The promenade outside Hawkins’ suite was alive with the vibrant chaos that defined Xandaria at night time. Neon lights from hovering signs and holoprojectors danced across the polished stone pathways, casting a kaleidoscope of colours over the eclectic mix of people bustling through the space. Traders bellowed about rare finds or exotic foods, entertainers dazzled small crowds with impossible tricks or dance moves, and the hum of alien languages filled the air like a symphony of the unknown. 

Hawkins stood in front of the reflective surface of the promenade’s sleek, metallic walls, adjusting the crisp lines of his attire with practised precision. The tuxedo he wore was tailored to perfection, a modern design that combined timeless elegance with a subtle hint of sophistication. The black jacket hugged his frame, its lapels gleaming faintly under the ambient light. Beneath it, a pristine white dress shirt complemented the dark ensemble, its collar perfectly framing the slender black bow tie at his neck.

The trousers matched the jacket, their sharp creases falling flawlessly down to his polished black shoes, which caught the glint of neon lights from the bustling promenade. A sleek silver bracelet adorned his wrist, an accessory that blended seamlessly with his suave appearance. His short and neatly styled hair gave him a clean-cut look, while a faint shadow of stubble on his jawline added a touch of rugged charm.

Hawkins then moved through the crowd with a practised ease, his posture relaxed and unassuming. Every detail of his Starfleet discipline was masked beneath the guise of a casual visitor. He had done this routine too many times in the past, especially with Radcliffe around. So, tonight, he was mixing it up a bit. He would use his usual wit and charm but also let Radcliffe see the real him. 

Yet his mind was anything but casual. Torvak’s warning lingered in his thoughts, a persistent whisper of doubt that refused to fade. Her cryptic remarks about Radcliffe tugged at the edges of his resolve, gnawing at the lines he’d drawn between his mission and his emotions.

Is she trying to warn me or manipulate me? Does she know something more that he didn’t? Or was she being friendly for the sake of Radcliffe? Was there something more going on, not just with the mission but with his former lover?

Hawkins shook the multiple thoughts and questions away. He had no time to dwell on her motives or the numerous ‘what ifs’. The stolen data from the control room was safe, encrypted in his concealed scanner. That was the priority. The mission came first, as it always did. He had already sent it to his contact among Starfleet Intelligence, and once McPhearson had it, she would relay further orders. In the meantime, he would continue to gather as much intelligence about the operations of the Orion Syndicate here on Xandaria as possible. 

A flash of dark fabric caught his eye, and he turned to see Radcliffe emerging effortlessly from the crowd. Dressed in a sleek, dark emerald jacket tailored to perfection, Radcliffe exuded the charisma that could command a room—or a planet. The lamplight from a nearby vendor’s stall caught the subtle shimmer of his clothing, and his confident stride seemed to part the crowd like a natural force.

“Hey, you!” Radcliffe called, his voice warm and inviting. His smile, genuine and wide, was a disarming contrast to the cold calculations racing through Hawkins’ mind. He closed the distance between them, slipping effortlessly into Hawkins’ personal space. Placing both hands on either cheek, Radcliffe pulled Hawkins in for a soft kiss that only lasted for a minute or so.

“I was starting to think you’d gotten lost,” Radcliffe teased as he pulled back. His tone was light yet edged with something genuine.

Hawkins smirked, slipping quickly into the banter. “Hardly. Just taking in the unique atmosphere of this place.” His gaze flicked briefly to the crowd around them, constantly scanning, constantly aware.

Radcliffe chuckled, the sound rich and unguarded. With a natural familiarity, he slid an arm around Hawkins’ waist, drawing him closer. “Well, let’s make sure you see the best of it,” he said, his voice dropping slightly, just enough to suggest more than sightseeing. “I’ve arranged a private dinner for us tonight at one of Xandaria’s finest restaurants. Think you can tear yourself away from your ‘collector meetings’ for an evening?”

Hawkins hesitated momentarily before nodding, his smirk softening into something more genuine. “I wouldn’t miss it. Lead the way.”

Hours later, Hawkins sat at an elegantly set table perched in a private dining room overlooking Xandaria’s sprawling cityscape. The walls were transparent crystalline panels, allowing an unobstructed view of the skyline’s glowing spires and the never-ending stream of airborne traffic weaving through the starry night. The city’s lights reflected across the polished black table, creating a hypnotic play of charm that matched the ambience.

Radcliffe had indeed spared no expense. A soft, melodic tune played from hidden speakers, and the gentle aroma of the exotic dishes before them filled the air. Hawkins couldn’t help but be impressed despite his usual wariness. The food was exquisite, and every bite was a testament to the culinary artistry of the chefs. Chefs who Radcliffe knew on a first-name basis, too. The moment they entered the restaurant, Radcliffe was greeted like an old friend by almost everyone there. Hawkins felt out of place, but all the staff were warm and welcoming when he was introduced. They all held huge grins on their faces, just like Radcliffe had when they met earlier. Were they members of the Orion Syndicate or just an over-friendly bunch? 

Radcliffe had taken him to, as he had described it, the only Italian restaurant on Xandaria that was one of the finest places he had eaten Earth cuisine. Named Capriccio’s, it served mixed classic Italian sentiments with a modern Xandaria twist with its food and how it was laid out. They had been shown to a private table, away from prying eyes from the other customers. The entire setup was very intimate and very romantic. Radcliffe ordered everything for them, something that Hawkins let him do. It was a routine they did back when they served on Deep Space Nineteen and would have date night weekly. Radcliffe was good when it came to food choice, especially since he had learned to cook real food after leaving Starfleet.  

As they dined, Radcliffe leaned in slightly, his expression shifting to something more serious. “Tom,” he began, his voice softer now, “I’ve been meaning to ask, how long are you planning to stay here?”

Hawkins set his fork down carefully before he picked up more of the contents of the carbonara he had been enjoying. His eyes meet Radcliffe’s across the intimate glow of the table. “That depends,” he said, choosing his words with care. “Is there something more for me here to stay longer?” He picked up his fork and twisted the spaghetti onto it. 

Radcliffe smirked at that suggestion and raised his eyebrows as he leaned forward to grab a glass of white wine. Before the glass touched his lips, he paused and looked at Hawkins. “Do you want something more to make you stay here longer?”

Finishing the mouthful he had just taken, Hawkins picked up his napkin and dabbed the sides of his mouth before reaching for his glass. “There’s nothing wrong in having something to make you want to stay longer.” He toyed with Radcliffe, knowing how far he could tease him. He took a sip from his wine. 

Placing his glass down gently on the white satin tablecloth, Radcliffe smiled at Hawkins in an almost innocent, charm-like way. “I’d like to think there’s something more here for you. Something we could build.”

“That sounds nice,” Hawkins said, placing his own glass down and looking at Radcliffe. At that moment, he could see the man he had fallen in love with years ago at the academy. The endless shared memories he had poured to the forefront of his mind. It made him feel warm inside as he took in a deep breath. “What do you have in mind, Starshine?” Using his old nickname from their time at the academy, he hoped it evoked similar memories in Radcliffe. 

Reaching across the table, intertwining his fingers with Hawkins, Radcliffe smiled even more. “Stay with me, Tommy,” He pleaded. “Waking up with you beside me this morning was the best thing that’s happened to me in years. Having you so close has made me realise what a fool I’ve been, and I should have never left you.”

“It’s been nice,” Hawkins admitted with a small smile.

“Then stay,” Radcliffe almost begged in a low whisper. “Or we could leave and start a life elsewhere, just the two of us.”

“Will your new boss like that?” Hawkins asked in a similar low tone.

Radcliffe let go of Hawkins’ hand at this point. “Is this what this is about?” His expression changed. “Briasyraa?”

Hawkins immediately shook his head. He was doing his best to appear confused. Had he just spoiled it in one motion? “No.” He added.

Radcliffe’s brow furrowed, a flicker of concern breaking through his usual charm. “You’re always so cryptic,” he said, his tone tinged with frustration. “Are you still working for S-I? Is this a covert mission?”

“No,” Hawkins lied. Leaning forward, Hawkins knew if he was going to convince Radcliffe, he had to make this real. “I want you, now more than ever.”

“Then marry me.” 

Hawkins blinked several times. “Come again?”

“You heard.”

“Orlando, don’t you think that’s a bit too quick?”

Shaking his head, Radcliffe refuted the claim. “Absolutely not. I don’t want to wait. I need you, Tom. Please.”

Taking a breath, Hawkins looked at the soft reflection of the candle in Radcliffe’s eyes and nodded. “You know I will.”

Radcliffe beamed excitedly as he got up, got around the table, knelt down on one knee, pulled out a small box, and opened it. “Thomas James Hawkins, I’ve asked you before, and I’m asking you again. Will you be my husband?”

Looking down at the silver ring with intertwined patterns, Hawkins couldn’t believe he was doing this for the sake of the mission. Or was he? That’s what he was telling himself for now. “Yes, of course I will.”

Radcliffe’s grin widened as he pulled out the ring and slid it over Hawkins’ left fourth finger before pulling him close to kiss him. This time, it was much longer, and the happiness coming from Radcliffe was radiant. 

Before they could fully revel in the moment, the sound of a deliberate cough interrupted them. Turning, they saw Briasyraa approaching with an exaggerated grin, her emerald eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Ah, there you are,” she purred, her voice thick with delight. “Well? Did he say yes?”

Radcliffe turned to her, still beaming. “He did.”

Briasyraa clapped her hands together, her excitement almost childlike. “This is perfect! Absolutely perfect! Congratulations to you both!” She leaned closer, her gaze darting between them. “Now, leave everything to me. I will plan the entire wedding aboard my luxury yacht. It will be the event of the century and nothing less for my right-hand man and his beloved.”

Hawkins chuckled, shaking his head slightly at her enthusiasm. “That’s very kind of you, but—”

“Nonsense,” Briasyraa interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “This is as much a joyous occasion for me as it is for you. A time for celebration…and opportunity.”

Her tone shifted ever so slightly at the last word, her expression cryptic and layered with meaning. Hawkins caught the subtle exchange of looks between her and Radcliffe, a flicker of something unsaid passing between them.

Radcliffe, still riding the high of the proposal, nodded. “We’ll leave it in your capable hands.”

“Splendid,” Briasyraa said, her grin widening. “This is going to be unforgettable.” She placed a hand on Radcliffe’s shoulder, squeezing it affectionately, before sauntering off into the restaurant, humming to herself.

As Radcliffe turned back to Hawkins, his joy undiminished, he pulled him into another kiss, murmuring against his lips, “I can’t wait for us to start this new chapter together.”

Hawkins kissed him back, his smile genuine, but his mind lingered on the peculiar interaction with Briasyraa. There was more to this celebration than met the eye, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that their engagement was now tied to something far more significant and potentially dangerous.

As they pulled away from each other and champagne was brought over to them, Hawkins turned to Radcliffe. “Orlando, why did Briasyraa know about this?”

“I told her.” He answered flatly as he took his flute of champagne and passed one to Hawkins. “I am her right-hand man. She tells me everything, and I tell her everything, too.”

“Yeah, I know that, but I thought you said about it just being us two and getting away from all of this,” Hawkins remarked as he swirled his glass flute around. 

“And it will, baby,” Radcliffe purred softly. “We just need to settle a few things here.”

“I just hope whatever you’re doing doesn’t get you into trouble.” Hawkins retorted, concern now etched into his tone.

“Never, not with you by my side,” Radcliffe remarked. 

The words hung in the air, heavier than they should have been. Hawkins opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, his concealed scanner vibrated faintly in his pocket. The subtle signal was a reminder that the mission couldn’t wait. He was needed, and he needed to take a moment for himself. 

Maintaining his composure, Hawkins kissed Radcliffe before offering him an apologetic smile as he rose from his seat. “Excuse me for a moment,” he said smoothly. “I need to use the little boys’ room.”

“You’re not feeling sick, are you?” Radcliffe probed.

Hawkins chuckled faintly as he shook his head, reassured Radcliffe he was fine, and blamed it all on the champagne. Once Radcliffe was calm, Hawkins turned away, slipped into a nearby corridor, and entered the nearest restroom. Once alone, his demeanour shifted. Before he did anything else, he made sure he was alone. He then activated the scanner, ensuring no apparent bugs were listening to him. Satisfied he was okay, he pressed another button to see what was awaiting him. His eyes scanned the small screen as it displayed the encrypted alert: a signal from the Formidable. 

His mind went to red alert, and his focus returned to the mission. Whatever this signal meant, he had to be careful. Quickly, he closed the scanner and used the facilities before returning to the table. Keeping up appearances, Hawkins approached the table and leaned over to kiss Radcliffe before taking his seat. 

“So when shall we set a date?” Hawkins asked as he put his napkin over his lap. “A month, two months?”

Radcliffe picked up his champagne flute and took a long sip. As he placed it down, he smiled at Hawkins. “I don’t see why we should wait. Let’s get married now!”