DISCLAIMER: Yadda, yadda, yadda . . . Paramount owns the characters. They own the ship, the replicators, the synthehol, the uniform turtlenecks, and Starfleet-issue pillows. And anything else I might have missed. But, the story is mine. I'm not making any money, sadly enough.
RATING: R
CODES: P/T, K/7 (finally, something slightly normal . . . or is it?)
EDITOR'S NOTE: This one is somewhat cleaner than the last one, despite the rating. It's been a long time coming, and it's been fun to write. But, I don't think Tom and B'Elanna have a relationship quite this dysfunctional.
ONE MORE THING: This takes place after "Unimatrix Zero," sometime in the 7th season. I say this only because it references one early 6th season episode and it portrays Tom as a Lieutenant - the way things should be.
Practical Practicality
by Surel and Harley
edited by Harley
"Tom," B'Elanna yelled. He was completely unresponsive. "Tom!" She tried again. Finally, she physically dragged him away from the television and shook him. "Tom Paris, you look at me right now!"
He looked up, dazed and confused. "Lanna? Wha'd I do?"
"Tom," she said in a reproachful voice, "Your duty shift started two minutes ago!"
Looking dazed, Tom asked, "What time is it?"
"It is 1602, Paris. You were watching that damned television when I came in, and I tried to get you away from it 5 minutes ago!"
Taking one last glance at the flickering box, Tom dashed into his room, threw on a uniform, and grabbed breakfast from the replicator. He gave B'Elanna a quick kiss goodbye and dashed out the door.
B'Elanna sighed. She never should have made him that television. He liked it, she knew, but maybe he liked it too much. She frowned. Oh, she had a good idea. She leaned over the box and began to tinker with a few of the wires.
* * * * *
Tom rushed onto the bridge breathing heavily and sat down in his seat at the helm. He could feel Janeway's glare on the back of his head and didn't dare turn around. Janeway spoke: "Mister Paris. Care to tell me why you're late?"
Tom grimaced. "Well, Captain. It's like this: I seem to have forgotten to set my alarm last night, so I overslept."
She didn't buy it, of course, but she let it go . . . this time.
* * * * *
Back in Tom's quarters, B'Elanna put the finishing touches on the television. Now, when Tom played it - on any "channel" he would see her. And only her. Maybe this would remind him that they hardly ever did anything together anymore. Hell, they barely even talked!
B'Elanna grinned and wandered into the other room to get some sleep. Tom was in for a surprise when he got back. A big surprise.
* * * * *
Some time later, in the mess hall, Neelix was teaching Naomi Wildman the secrets of the kitchen. The little girl was eager for anything new, so he thought he might teach her something useful. "Okay, Naomi. this is leola root. It has many purpose - and many uses. For example, it can be used for cooking. It is also good for stopping plasma leaks. Also, you can use it for hitting annoying helmsmen over the head."
Naomi pulled at his pant leg. "But Neelix, nobody likes leola root! It's icky!"
Neelix looked down on her. "What do you mean, Naomi? Everyone loves leola root." Naomi looked at him like he was crazy. "But even Seven of Nine doesn't eat it."
Quickly moving on to something else before the situation got even messier, Neelix asked, "Do you like chocolate, Naomi?"
Naomi shook her head. "Not really. Mommy says it's cause of my Ktarian genes. They don't go with chocolate too well."
Neelix looked down at her. "Alright then, how about Kaldorian pie?" Neelix asked enticingly. The little girl shook her head. "There must be something you like. What's your favorite food?"
Naomi considered for a minute. "I like gagh," she said emphatically. "Cause it wiggles!"
Neelix looked at her with wide eyes. "You might want to talk to Lieutenant Torres about that," he said.
*****
Lieutenant Torres was running a systems diagnostic in Engineering when she heard Tom over the comm system. "Torres! what did you do to my television?!"
Smiling, she replied, "Oh, nothing, Paris. Nothing at all. Isn't it always like that?" She smiled as her subordinates in Engineering looked at her strangely, and with more than a little amusement.
"B'Elanna!" Tom said. "I'm going to kill you when you get back here!"
"Who says I'm coming back?" she asked playfully. "I could just find someone else's quarters to sleep in"
Silence over the comm. Then, "B'Elanna."
She answered, still laughing, "Yes?"
"You're toast, Torres. Absolutely toast."
She giggled, and Sue Nicoletti stared.
*****
Tom used all of his 20th Century engineering skills to figure out what she had done to his television, but with no success. She was too good for him. But he would get her back!
*****
B'Elanna laughed and returned to the diagnostic. She knew how his mind worked. He would try something. She would just have to be one step ahead of him.
*****
Tom plotted quickly and quietly. He needed something good. And big. Very big. What if he filled her room with leola root? That would work! And, he could enlist Neelix's help - Neelix always enjoyed a good prank. Scheming, he hit his commbadge, "Paris to Neelix. I need lots of leola root."
Disheartened by his recent experience with Naomi and leola root, Neelix suspiciously asked, "Why?"
"Well," Tom replied, "it's like this. B'Elanna reprogrammed my television so I could only see - so I couldn't watch any of my shows. So, I have to retaliate."
Neelix nodded. He sighed. Knowing Tom and B'Elanna this would get out of hand, but he was always ready for a little fun. And besides, he had plenty of extra leola root lying around.
*****
Two hours later, B'Elanna's quarters were covered in a blanket of leola root and Tom was smiling. He planned to be safely away from there - on the bridge, perhaps - when she arrived here. Maybe Harry was right - night shifts did have their merits.
"TOM!!!!!!!" Everyone on Deck Nine heard B'Elanna's scream, and then the sound of several large objects falling over as she ran through the door to look for the perpetrator of this . . . this . . . this . . . oh, whatever it was! That man was going to pay. He was going to pay big.
"Computer," she hissed, "locate Tom Paris and beam all this leola root to his location. Authorization Torres Omega-One-Six-Six-Seven"
*****
Tom was making a course correction from his seat on the bridge when suddenly he heard the shimmer of a transporter . . . right above his head. Less than a second later, to his surprise and the amusement of everyone else on the bridge, he was covered in the foul-smelling root!
Suffice it to say, Tom was not amused. Somehow fingering his combadge, he hailed his errant girlfriend. "B'Elanna, the captain won't be happy - you've just covered her chair with leola root."
B'Elanna paled, but steeled herself. "You know you deserved it, Tom."
Tom muttered something about revenge under his breath and started the long job of cleaning up the leola root off the bridge before the captain found it.
The others on the bridge - ensigns assigned rather permanently - snickered behind their hands at the sight of a senior officer reduced to cleaning up leola root. And had he said Lieutenant Torres had done this? Oh, it would make good gossip!
By the next morning Tom was sure that it would be all over the ship, and magnified to gigantic proportions as well. he had to get B'Elanna back for this. Somehow . . .
After transporting all of the leola root to the cargo bay (he would let Seven deal with it) and wiping the transporter record, he sat back in the captain's chair and schemed. What would be a good way to get back at B'Elanna?
*****
Meanwhile, B'Elanna had returned to Engineering - she wasn't going to be getting much sleep in her quarters - and was still chuckling to herself. She could just imagine the look on Tom's face when he found himself covered with leola root. She laughed out loud, and a few crew members looked at her rather strangely. She busied herself making imaginary repairs to a conduit.
*****
Meanwhile, Neelix was a little befuddled. He had given all that leola root to Tom - and Tom had promised to return it. Of course, it had gone missing. He frowned. "Neelix to Paris."
"Tom here. What is it?"
"Tom, where's my leola root? I was planning on making soup tonight."
Tom thought quickly. "Uh, Neelix, its in the cargo bay. Seven said she wanted it for something . . ."
Neelix signed off in a huff. So now Seven of Nine was after his leola root? He really had to do something about this! Abandoning that night's dinner, he stormed down to the cargo bay, where he found a veritable mountain of leola root, and a very perturbed Borg.
"If you wished to use my living quarters as a storage bay for your leola root, you should have informed me!"
"What?" Neelix sputtered. "You're the one who wanted it all here!" Seven of Nine stared at him.
"I believe you have been misinformed."
Neelix glared. "TOM!" he roared. The pilot was going to pay . . . dearly . . . .
*****
Captain Janeway picked up her black coffee from the replicator and settled down in the big chair for another early morning duty shift. Actually, it wasn't all that early, almost 0900 hours in fact, but it was way too early for her. She felt a rather large bump under the cushion of her chair as she settled in. She reached under the cushion and sighed. Leola root? It was going to be that kind of morning, wasn't it?
She sipped her coffee, and prepared for the morning briefing, stopping herself from rubbing her eyes. She watched as the senior staff came to their posts before heading into the briefing. No one seemed to notice the leola root she was holding.
Except for Tom. He blushed slightly and lowered his eyes.
Tom? Tom Paris was responsible for leola root on the bridge. Why was she not surprised? She turned to face him. "Mister Paris, would you care to explain this, please?"
He stuttered. "Uh, Captain, uh, do you really want to know, sir?"
She sighed again and shook her head. Some things were better left unknown.
He heaved another sigh and hoped the rest of the day would be normal - or the semblance of normal that called itself normal. She stood from her chair and stalked to the briefing room.
Tom turned to face B'Elanna.
B'Elanna grinned wickedly at his smile. Oh, he thought he had the upper hand, did he? Was he ever in for a surprise!
(She and Neelix were conspiring behind his back to get revenge.)
But, little did B'Elanna know, Seven was also plotting to get Tom back for his stunt with the leola root. Seven had enlisted the help of Harry Kim to repay Tom for his antics. After all, Harry knew Tom almost as well as B'Elanna did - and she couldn't ask B'Elanna to help her!
Tom, completely unaware of the conspiracies developing around him, made his way into the conference room whistling a happy tune.
Chakotay looked at him a little oddly when he came in, but Tom didn't care. This was perfect. B'Elanna was going to get it for her little joke, and then all would be well.
Eventually, the entire senior staff made it into the briefing room. Before the meeting was called to order, Tom stood up at his seat and cleared his throat. "I have an announcement to make. I am not in any way responsible for the leola root on the bridge." There was shocked silence. "You see B'Elanna beamed it all there. I disavow any responsibility. It was all B'Elanna."
B'Elanna exploded. "Simply because it was all over my quarters, Paris! And if you think it's funny, you have something coming!" She stood and stormed out of the room.
Harry broke the silence that followed. "Oops," he said.
Tom gulped. That wasn't the reaction he had been going for. But, it served her right. After all, he had spent three hours cleaning the Bridge, trying to get rid of the last traces of the leola root's horrid stench.
But, he had to agree with Harry. "Ooops" was right. Beyond belief.
The senior staff was still staring at the door B'Elanna had so unceremoniously charged through. Janeway recovered first and said, "Thank you for the clarification, Mister Paris, as unnecessary as it was."
Tom sighed. It was going to be a very, very long couple of days. So much for repaying her for a bad joke - now he would have to work on apologizing.
*****
B'Elanna stormed off to her quarters. Tom was going to PAY! She settled down to plan a way to get him back. She had to humiliate him, like he did to her.
Or did she? This had all started as a practical joke to get him to pay more attention to her . . . she had an idea!
*****
Meanwhile, Seven was plotting her own revenge while listening to the day's briefing. Tom was going to pay for that leola root. She had yet to get the leola juice stains off the deck, but she figured that would be only another 7.4 hours of scrubbing by the cleanup crew.
She knew Harry could help her.
Just how could she get him to do so without him suspecting false motives? What was that human thing called? She remembered . . . it was seduction. That would work.
As the meeting continued, she gradually moved a little closer to Harry.
By the time the meeting was over, she was right next to him. She asked him if he wished to help her with a new project that she was conducting.
After all, humans often needed a pretense . . . .
Harry, of course, was oblivious. "Of course, Seven?" he said. "When would you like to meet?"
Seven considered. "Perhaps this evening at 1900 in Cargo Bay Two," she said.
"All right then, Seven. I'll meet you there."
*****
That evening, promptly at 1900, Harry was standing outside the cargo bay. When Seven opened the door, she was wearing that evening, promptly at 1900, a reduced version of her jumpsuit, cut to reveal her implants.
He blinked. Seven motioned for him to enter, and when he did, he found dinner waiting for them, complete with candles and champagne. Harry started. "Seven, what exactly is this project?" he croaked.
Seven blinked at him. "Human mating rituals, of course. Now that I have learned more about the process, I wish to experience it for myself!"
Harry almost dashed out of the cargo bay, but Seven's hand, firmly wrapped around his waist, prevented that.
"Please be seated so that we can eat," Seven said to him. and Harry, struck completely dumb, followed her and sat down.
The food did look wonderful. But, why was she doing this? His head spun. The second he got out of here he had to talk to Tom or B'Elanna - a problem, because he was quite sure they weren't on speaking terms, but hey - he could still talk to them.
Suddenly, Seven ordered the computer to turn the lights off and play "romantic music." She started to eat the replicated dinner, and Harry followed her lead, chewing and swallowing in silence. It really WAS good. He choked down the last bite and stared across the table at the beautiful woman before him.
"Seven?" he asked softly. "Would you like to, uh, dance?"
Judging from her last, unsuccessful, experience with dates and dancing, Seven replied, "I do not know how to dance."
Harry stopped. "Okay. What would you like to do?"
Seven moved closer to Harry and, in a seductive voice, said, "We could watch the stars in your quarters."
Harry nodded, not trusting his voice. Though he didn't know where this whole thing had come from, he was beginning to think it was nice. "Yeah," he said finally.
So, they walked to his quarters, her arm around his shoulders and his around her waist.
When they finally reached his quarters, after what seemed like an eternity, Harry queried, "Would you like to come in?"
Seven stared for a second - that was a pointless question, but nodded. She entered behind him, and locked the door. He replicated them both bowls of chocolate ice cream. After all, who didn't like chocolate?
Seven stared at him. "Ensign Kim, what are you doing?"
"Chocolate, Seven," he replied. "You have had it, haven't you?"
"I do not believe so."
Harry stared at her in amazement. "Then, this will be your first time! Well, enjoy!" he said as he handed her the bowl of ice cream.
She lifted the ice-cream filled spoon to her mouth and took a bite. Some dribbled down her chin and Harry reached out a hand and started to wipe it away when he looked into her eyes. He sat transfixed.
Then Seven leaned forwards and kissed him on the mouth. She had never actually been kissed - hallucinations didn't count - and found it to be an interesting experience - and quite pleasureful.
Harry did, too. It took him a few seconds to respond, but respond he did. He put his arms around her waist and drew her body closer to his.
She flinched, but gave into his touch, trying desperately to remember her mission. She was seducing him for help dealing with Tom! But, oh, his hands were so gentle and yet so strong.
*****
Meanwhile, Tom had just entered his quarters, only to find a rather irate half-Klingon there. She stood up and yelled, "What the hell were you thinking, Paris?"
He tried to smile, but it fell flat. "I wasn't?" he answered and questioned at the same time.
"Damn straight," she said.
He sheepishly looked at the floor. "What can I do to make it up to you, B'Elanna?"
Still fuming, she responded, "I have yet to figure that out," and stormed off, leaving Tom to stand in his empty quarters and think about whether or not he had damaged their relationship forever.
He sighed and flopped onto his couch. Tapping his combadge, he said, "Paris to Kim."
Harry untangled his hands from Seven's hair and tapped his combadge. "I'm here."
"Harry, what have you been doing? You sound out of breath."
Harry blushed. "Nothing. Just getting some exercise."
Seven of Nine regarded Harry thoughtfully. "Exercise?" she whispered. Tom heard this over the comm.
"Harry? Who IS that?" he said with more than a little annoyance in his voice. He didn't have time for another one of Harry's weird flings.
"Who?" Harry tried to ask innocently. "What are you talking about, Paris?"
Tom groaned. He had a pretty good idea of what was going on and it was getting redundant.
Seven of Nine stared at Harry. This was not nice of him! "Ensign Kim," she commanded. "Why do you refuse to acknowledge me?" Harry's face reddened, and on the other end of the comm link, Tom's face whitened.
Seven of NINE? He knew Harry had a thing for her, but this? And that seven would ever have wanted to . . . he gagged.
"What do you want, Tom?" Harry asked, annoyed that Tom had interrupted him and Seven and annoyed that Tom now knew about him and Seven and simply annoyed in general.
Tom sighed. "I wanted to talk to you, Harry, but if you're otherwise occupied, I won't intrude. Paris out."
Harry sighed. It had been going so well. And now Seven was mad at him. He looked back at her, expecting to see another frowning face. Instead, it looked as if she had completely forgotten she was angry at him. She was staring up at him with almost a rapt expression!
"Harry," she whispered, incredibly out of character. "You really can help me!" Harry started. What the heck did she mean by that?!
Mouth agape at the strangeness of this whole situation, he started to ask her what she meant. She put a finger over his mouth to keep him silent, and then kissed him again.
*****
Meanwhile, B'Elanna Torres stormed the corridors. She had tried the holodeck, but it was occupied, and going into Engineering meant she would have to act like the "chief" and she wasn't feeling very chief-like right now. She hit the wall with her fist. "Torres to Chakotay," she growled.
"Chakotay here," came the cautious voice over the comm system.
"I can't take this anymore, Chakotay!!" she almost yelled.
He took a deep breath. "Take what?" he asked, sliding easily into the role of ship's counselor.
"This - this - this - this THING!" she moaned.
Chakotay stifled a smile, even though he knew she couldn't see him. "Care to elaborate on that?" he said. She growled. Chakotay relented. "B'Elanna, I'll meet you in my quarters in ten minutes, okay?"
She growled assent.
She spent the next ten minutes wandering the ship, banging her fists against the bulkheads, and trying to restrain herself from throwing large objects. When she finally made it to Chakotay's quarters she was panting.
He raised an eyebrow and she glared at his expression. "This is not funny," she hissed, and he shook his head in denial. She collapsed in a chair with an annoyed growl, but was pacing within three seconds.
Chakotay finally had to ask, "Okay, B'Elanna, what's wrong?"
She glowered at him, and then sat down again. "Well, Chakotay, it's like this: that petaQ of a human decided to humiliate me in front of the entire bridge crew for something that was entirely his fault. Not to mention that - " she trailed off and glared. Chakotay nodded for her to continue. "Not to mention that that petaQ left leola root all over my bedroom, and it still smells. and the captain probably thinks I wanted to beam it all onto the bridge, but I didn't think Tom would be on night shift because he's never on night shift and it's not my fault he spends all his time with that stupid television!"
Chakotay blinked. "All right, B'Elanna. so what are you going to do to him? I suggest you not kill him because he happens to be our best helm officer, but other than that, I really have no particular feelings on the matter. It wouldn't be much of a personal affront if he dropped dead."
He said this to provoke her - and it worked. Later, he felt that it worked a little too well.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean, Chakotay?" she demanded in a voice Chakotay hadn't heard in a very long time. "I thought you liked helm-boy. And besides, I don't want to kill him . . . ." She trailed off, lost in thought.
Chakotay cringed. "I didn't mean that, exactly, B'Elanna."
She glared, coming out of her brief reverie. "Really? It wouldn't be a personal affront. I get it. It really doesn't matter to you at all! You hate that you owe him your life, and you hate that he's actually not a horrible person and you just hate him, don't you?" Chakotay was silent. "You do, Chakotay! Don't you! Don't you?!"
He paused again and then said, "B'Elanna, I don't see what this has to do with anything."
She glared. He glared back, and then cracked a smile. He started laughing, and she nearly jumped up and ran out. "What?!" she demanded.
Chakotay chuckled. "You. You're not mad at Tom anymore, are you?"
"Well, I . . . " She stuttered, "I . . . I guess I'm not. After all, he's the one who had to clean up the whole bridge." B'Elanna smirked at the mental image but quickly wiped the smile from her face. "That was not funny, Chakotay!" she said, though she wasn't nearly as angry as before. "You made me think that - wait, all that stuff! It's not TRUE, is it?"
Chakotay just smiled.
B'Elanna growled. She glared at him, but she couldn't really be mad. After all, she wasn't angry with Tom anymore and that was all Chakotay's doing. It still hadn't been too kind. "That still wasn't funny," she said. He continued to grin at her, and she had to crack a smile. "Fine, fine," she said. "I overreacted. What else is new?"
He nodded. "Apology accepted. Now, go to your quarters and get some sleep. It's almost 2300 hours."
She sighed. "Okay, I'll see you at the staff meeting tomorrow morning," she said and stood to leave. She left deep in thought. She couldn't go back to sleep just yet - maybe she'd drop in on Harry. He would be good for a little sane conversation before she dropped off.
B'Elanna headed down to Harry's quarters and stood in front of his door. After a minute, she touched the control pad, thinking the chime wasn't working and entered her code. It opened all the doors on the ship - there were advantages to being chief engineer.
She stepped inside and saw absolutely nothing. The room was dark, and it looked like no one was home. She was just about to leave when she heard an interesting noise coming from the bedroom. She walked over and looked in and saw Harry sitting in the bed with - - with Seven of Nine?! Blessed be Kahless, she did not need THAT image in her mind for the rest of the night! She scrambled backwards hopefully before they noticed. However, with her wonderful sense of hearing, Seven did.
"Lieutenant? May we help you?"
Still walking backwards, B'Elanna made up a lame excuse about checking a reported environmental systems problem and ran out the door.
Harry stared after her. He climbed out of bed and followed for a second, before Seven called after him. "Harry? Where are you going?"
"Uh, nowhere," he replied, and then got back into the warm, cozy bed.
*****
B'Elanna, meanwhile, was standing outside Harry's now-shut door and laughing. Harry and Seven? That was too preposterous for words. Harry and Seven . . . ! Oh, Tom had to hear about this!
Oh, that brought up a bad thought. Tom was probably off somewhere either feeling stupid or fuming at her. She should probably find him, she thought.
She turned and addressed the computer, asking for Tom's location. "Tom Paris is on Deck 4." B'Elanna sighed in relief. He was in his quarters. Probably feeling sorry for himself. She should go talk to him.
She hopped over to the turbolift, still repulsed by seeing Harry Kim with Seven of Nine. She ordered the lift to Deck 4 and leaned against the wall. She shouldn't have overreacted in the briefing room like that. She shouldn't have accused Chakotay of wanting Tom dead. There were lots of things she shouldn't have done today.
There was one thing she should do, though. And that was to talk to Tom. And make up. Hopefully, she hadn't screwed up too badly!
She set her jaw and stepped off the turbolift when it stopped at the correct deck. With purpose to her stride she marched up to Tom's quarters and pressed the chime - hard. And pressed it again. She was about to walk away when the door finally opened.
There was no one in sight, but Tom was in there somewhere.
She stepped in, with a bit more caution this time, and called out. "Tom?" No answer. "Tom?" she repeated, more urgently, a little louder. There was still no answer. She stepped further into the darkened room.
Tom appeared from the shadows. He looked at her warily and nodded towards a seat.
B'Elanna stepped forward, but didn't sit down. Rather, she slowly approached him, hoping she had a look of forgiveness on her face. It was rare for her to be the one trying to make peace between them, for that usually fell to Tom. It was awkward.
Tom was incredulous! After what B'Elanna had done that morning, he didn't trust her further than he could throw her. But, he would at least listen. It was the least he could do.
She swallowed. "Hi," she said, stalling for time. What was she supposed to say? Just "I'm sorry?" From the look on Tom's face, that wasn't going to cut it.
"Hi," he echoed, still entrenched in the shadows of the darkened room.
"Tom, I wanted to apologize . . . ." He was still glowering at her. She wanted to crawl into a hole. But, she had to continue. She took a shaky breath. "I didn't mean to hurt you or offend you. I was just angry." She thought he smiled at that remark - she did, after all, get angry a great deal. "And I'm sorry for all the leola root on the bridge. Though I imagine that Seven had fun with it."
Tom sighed. It sounded like she was sincere. He approached her and sat in a chair across from her. It was his turn to apologize, he supposed. "B'Elanna. . . I'm sorry about the leola root, too. But, the captain did deserve an explanation as to why she was sitting on leola root - when she was on the bridge."
B'Elanna nodded. there was a long pause, before she said, "We have to stop doing this to each other, Tom."
He nodded. This was defiantly not a good thing for the relationship. "Yeah. I promise I'll never transport two tons of leola root into your bedroom ever again," he said with a small smirk.
She couldn't help it - she smiled. "See that you don't, Lieutenant," she said, placing a little bit too much emphasis on his rank. "Or you could find yourself in some very big trouble." She moved closer.
Tom leaned forward. "Oh, really now?" he asked. "Exactly what kind of trouble would that be?"
B'Elanna punched him on the shoulder. "Why don't you try it and find out?"
Tom backed away in mock terror as she came closer, looking a little too much like a cat stalking its prey. He leaned into the couch, enjoying the game. "Well," he said, "Neelix might object." He grinned at her.
She made a leap for him, but he dodged, grabbing a pillow from the couch on his way down and as she brought her head up from where she landed on the couch, she found her face filled with Starfleet-issue pillow. "Tom," she growled, and grabbed at the other pillow, only to be whacked over the head once again.
She fought back ferociously and whacked him on the head a few times before he wrestled her to the ground, simply laying down on top of her to keep her from moving. After a second, he said breathlessly, "Gotcha!"
She smiled and pushed him off of her. Then she jumped on top of him and said, "I think not, Paris." He struggled to free himself, but to no avail as B'Elanna grinned at him. "I think I've got you now," she said devilishly. Propping her head on her hand she said in a thoughtful tone, "Now. What should I do with you?"
Tom whined. "You could get off me."
She smiled even wider. "Guess again." She leaned over him, letting her hair fall across his face. He stared up at her, rapt. She grinned. "What, no guesses, Tom?"
He mumbled something about Klingon mating behavior and pushed against her. "So, that's what you want, fly-boy? Ha!"
She continued to grin at him, and Tom was a little dazed. No more than ten minutes ago, he had been quite ready to tell her to get out of his quarters and stay away - and now, here they were, on the floor in a sweaty heap.
B'Elanna finally rolled off Tom and lay down on the floor next to him and giggled.
Tom did a double- take. B'Elanna . . . giggle. He smiled and reached out a hand to smooth away her errant curls. Without knowing he was saying anything, he said, "How did I get so lucky in life?"
Her only response was to snuggle up against him and take his hand in hers. Then she looked into his eyes and said, "I got lucky too."
There was a long silence between them as they simply stared at each other, lost in thought. It was lucky, though. To come through yet another disagreement in tact, their relationship closer than before.
*****
As Tom and B'Elanna were speaking and making up, Seven was explaining her plans to Harry. By now he was so dazed that he would have done anything she said even though this plan seemed to include a fair bit of pilot-torture. He could live with that - especially if this kind of treatment was his reward. Harry sighed in contentment. She was so beautiful, and she was his.
Seven continued explaining her plot to the bedazzled ensign. "I need your help, Harry. "Lieutenant Paris expects no retribution for his latest prank, but I believe it is only appropriate to retaliate for this. My cargo bay was covered with leola root. Mister Neelix was not pleased. Therefore, our only choice is to strike back. I shall summon Neelix so that we can continue planning."
The furry Talaxian arrived in a few minutes as Harry struggled to get dressed. He noticed, with a little annoyance, that Seven had no trouble with her catsuit. He had just finished zipping his uniform jacket when the annunciator chimed.
Seven ushered Neelix into the room and locked the door behind him. Then she got out schematics of the ship. Specifically, schematics of a certain lieutenant's quarters.
Neelix piped up. "What exactly should we do? I think it should involve leola root!" he said.
Seven and Harry looked at each other. "Actually, Neelix," Harry said, "we had something else planned."
Neelix looked sad for a second. He had had a good idea! But then, as Harry explained the plan, Neelix cheered up immensely. This was going to be fun!
*****
Doc sat in a meeting with Commander Chakotay, despite the lateness of the hour. "I think this crew needs more relaxation," Doc said.
"I agree," Chakotay said. "We haven't had shore leave in eight months. I think we should ask the captain to find us a nice M-Class planet to relax on for a few weeks."
"Well," Doc said, "I was thinking of something different entirely."
Chakotay looked at him, and Doc stared back. "What do you mean, Doctor?" he asked.
"Well, I was thinking more of some sort of party. Or maybe a carnival! Yes, that's it!" Doc used his authoritative tone. "In my professional opinion, this crew would benefit greatly from a carnival," he said.
Chakotay stared at the Doctor - as he had been doing all day, it seemed. "Okay. A carnival. What kind of carnival?"
The Doctor thought hard. "Well, I'm not really experienced in carnivals. I've accessed the computer databanks, but they aren't too helpful. What kind of carnival do you think would be appropriate?"
Chakotay swallowed. "Well, we can't have any exotic animals - they're not in great supply here." He considered the question, though. Something everyone - even the captain - could participate in . . . .
The Doctor cut into Chakotay's thoughts. "How about a Mardi Gras Carnival? The computer has a lot of details about Mardi Gras! It sounds like a good opportunity for the crew to relieve a little stress!"
Chakotay didn't know much about Earth holidays - especially obscure ones like Mardi Gras. So, he said, "Sure, Doctor. Sounds like the perfect thing." Little did he know!
*****
Captain Janeway was sitting in her chair about ready to doze off when her first officer approached her - and she noticed that it was around 0007 hours and she really should get off the bridge. "Captain, may I see you in your ready room?" Chakotay asked.
She jolted awake as quietly as she could and walked to the ready room. "May I help you, Commander?"
He cleared his throat and nodded towards the ready room. Janeway blinked and followed him in. "Yes, Commander?"
"The Doctor wants to organize a Mardi Gras party," he said.
Janeway stared at him. "A Mardi Gras party," she stated, repeating him incredulously. "Yes," Chakotay said, a little put out.
Grinning, Janeway asked, "Are you serious, Commander? Mardi Gras?"
Chakotay nodded, wondering why she found this so amusing. Chakotay was confused. "Yes, Captain," he responded. "A Mardi Gras party." Still confused, he asked, "Is there a problem?"
The captain grinned even wider at his confusion. She said, "Only that Mardi Gras parties have reputations for getting a little, em, wild. Will there be uh . . . alcohol or synthehol?"
"Well, I haven't asked Neelix about catering the party yet," Chakotay said, beginning to comprehend. "But I'll personally make sure that the crew doesn't get too rowdy."
Janeway just smiled, and Chakotay got even more worried. Well, he thought, the Doctor wanted the crew to relax . . . maybe this would be the key. "So, Captain, do I have your permission?"
She nodded, still grinning. "Just so long as you have everything under control, Commander." He nodded and walked out. Janeway let out a snicker. He had no idea what he had gotten himself into. She recalled the last time the crew had been let loose - on that odd space station. Tom and Harry and bars . . . she chuckled. Chakotay would have fun with this.
*****
Meanwhile, in Harry's quarters, Seven, Neelix and Harry were putting the finishing touches on the best practical joke the ship had ever seen. They were going to get Tom back for everything he had ever done to all three of them, and more. They were planning to embarrass him like nothing ever before. Of course, Doc would have to be in on it . . . and probably Commander Chakotay, when both Tom and B'Elanna were late for their shifts after a rather disturbing discovery.
They were going to discover the lack of a rather significant piece of equipment . . . their dermal regenerator! And if they could get the Doc's help then not only would their personal medkit be gone - how Tom managed to swipe it, Harry didn't know - but Sickbay would also be devoid of that key device.
Harry giggled, Neelix giggled, and Seven raised a slightly malicious eyebrow. She said, "We will inform the Doctor of our plans. Please accompany me to Sickbay."
So, they trooped down to Sickbay, and found that the Doctor was all too willing to help.
His eyes lit up as Harry explained the plan. Interrupting, he said, "In the medical supply cabinet! Yes, yes . . . I can change the lock for the day - to be returned to normal in the case of a medical emergency, of course - how do you plan to get the medkit out of their quarters?" He stopped suddenly, remembering the most important question.
"We have that covered," Neelix said. "Don't worry about that. All you have to do is take care of the regenerators in Sickbay."
The doctor nodded and smiled. He couldn't wait to see the look on Tom's face when he couldn't find any regenerators!
His grin subsided slightly. He wasn't looking forward to seeing the look on B'Elanna's face when she coudn't find any regenerators! But, he wiped that thought from his mind. After all, if the Lieutenants started a prank war that got out of hand - it was her fault, too.
Doc whistled as he worked.
*****
Meanwhile, Seven, Harry, and Neelix went to tell Chakotay about their plan. The computer informed them that he was in the messhall, so they decided to wait a bit until he was somewhere less public.
Tapping her commbadge, Seven of Nine called, "Commander Chakotay, please report to Cargo Bay 2."
Chakotay, who was still a bit confused over the Mardi Gras party, grumbled as he stood, especially because it was getting late, but walked towards the door.
Popping his head inside the cargo bay, he asked quietly, "Seven?" she motioned him over to where the three conspirators were sitting, and explained the plan to him.
Chakotay nodded along, and when the group explanation (well, Neelix and Harry, punctuated by "it would be the most logical way to go about things") was finished, he asked, "This will be tonight?"
Harry and Neelix nodded vigorously while Seven merely raised and eyebrow. "So, Commander," Harry said, "what do you think?"
Chakotay thought about that. Maybe - just maybe - this would get around and the crew would laugh hard enough that he could cancel that damn Mardi Gras carnival. And, as great a friend B'Elanna was, he couldn't wait for her reaction - or Tom's. "I love it," he said simply.
Surprised, Neelix responded, "Really, Commander? Then you'll go along with us?"
"Well, I'm not looking forwards to seeing B'Elanna after . . . well, you know. But I'll play along."
Neelix and Harry grinned, and Chakotay thought he detected a hint of a smile from Seven of Nine. "Okay," Harry said. "Time to put this operation in motion. Seven, you know where to start."
Seven nodded and proceeded to the nearest console, and tapped a button that would carry an electrical short to her regeneration alcove. As soon as it flowed, she tapped her commbadge. "Seven of Nine to Lieutenant Torres."
B'Elanna responded tiredly. "Yes, Seven. What is it?"
"There seems to be a problem with the computer core, Lieutenant. it requires a level seven security clearance."
B'Elanna groaned and replied. "All right. I'll be right there."
She pulled on her uniform and started towards the cargo bay.
Harry raced to Sickbay, where he was greeted exuberantly by the Doc. A little bit of medical magic later, there was a minor emergency. Harry raced out of Sickbay and towards Deck Four.
Doc hailed Tom. "Doctor to Lieutenant Paris, please report to sickbay."
Tom yawned. "On my way, Doc."
Seven tapped her commbadge. "Seven to Kim. They're on their way out."
Harry raced to Tom's quarters - though he supposed they weren't actually Tom's anymore, considering that he and B'Elanna simply switched rooms whenever they felt like it - where he was met by Commander Chakotay.
Chakotay entered his command override into the door. It slid aside, and they entered.
Harry's mouth opened wide when he saw what was left of Tom's quarters. The room was a mess!
There was broken glass and other objects everywhere, and what seemed to be shreds of Starfleet-issue pillow stuffing. He walked over to the medkit, being sure not to tip over any precariously balanced objects and picked it up. Chakotay was still standing where Harry had left him, gaping. "Commander?" Harry whispered. Chakotay blinked.
*****
Meanwhile, Neelix frantically stored away medkits in sickbay, while Doc was on the lookout for Tom. The door slid aside and Tom stepped in, only to witness Neelix step away from the supply cabinet. He looked around for the Doc and then asked, "You needed me?"
Doc looked up. "I did?" he asked, pulling a befuddled look over his grin.
Tom sighed. "Yes, Doc, you did."
Doc shrugged. "You could check the communications log," he said.
*****
And in Cargo Bay 2, Seven was denying that she ever called B'Elanna.
Confused and rather annoyed, a tired B'Elanna went back to Tom's quarters where things were exactly as she left them - except for Tom's absence, of course. She assumed he'd been called away, and collapsed into bed, making a mental note to clean things up in the morning.
Tom finished checking the communications logs - maybe Doc hadn't called him after all - and returned to his quarters. He thought nothing of Neelix's presence in sickbay. The cook had probably burnt his hand or something.
Tom groggily walked back to his quarters where he found B'Elanna sprawled on his bed. He climbed in beside her.
*****
Neelix, Chakotay, Seven, Harry, and Doc congregated in sickbay, all a little fatigued, but completely satisfied with themselves. "So," Harry said, "how long do we have until, well, you know?"
The rest of them blinked at him. "Well, we don't really know, Harry," Chakotay told him. "It could be an hour or it could be a day."
Harry blushed. "Oh." He stared at his shoes. "Yeah."
Seven of Nine raised an eyebrow. "Ensign Kim, we should retire to your quarters. In the even that the outcome of our prank is sooner felt, I wish to be sufficiently rested to revel in the aftermath."
Chakotay gawked. Seven had just invited herself to Harry's quarters? And used a word like "revel"? He was left speechless as the two walked out the Sickbay door towards Harry's quarters.
The Doc and Neelix blinked and then continued. "I'd better go sleep too," Neelix said. "Tomorrow should be . . . exciting."
Chakotay would certainly concede that point. Interesting. Interesting, indeed.
*****
The day dawned bright. Well, as bright as artificial light could be, anyways. Neelix had already been up for hours decorating the mess hall for the carnival, while Harry and Seven slept and Chakotay meditated.
On Deck 4, Tom woke up with a moan. A huge bruise had developed on his arm from the pillow fight the night before, not to mention that he had more than one bite mark in a few strategic (and obvious) places from the fun that had followed their return from their phantom repair jobs. He slapped at the alarm, and leaned over to wake B'Elanna, who was also a bit battered. She rolled over and covered her head with a pillow.
Tom walked over to his medkit to get the dermal regenerator disregarding the mess in the room. He opened the kit, and reached, still-half asleep, for the regenerator. He opened his eyes a bit wider, and looked again. Turning towards the bed, he asked, "B'Elanna, where did we put the regen?"
B'Elanna just mumbled something into her pillow and tried to go back to sleep. Tom was rather worried. He had to find the dermal regenerator! He couldn't go on duty with bite marks on his face! That would be . . . well, that would be disproportionately embarrassing. "B'Elanna!" he said a little louder, walking over to the bed. "Where is the regenerator? I can't find it."
B'Elanna dragged the pillow away from her face. "What do you mean, you can't find it?" she growled. "Isn't it in the medkit?"
Tom shook his head. "It must be somewhere in this mess," he said, looking at the mounds of furniture and pillow stuffing littering the floor.
B'Elanna shook her head, clearing the sleep from her eyes. "No . . . " she said. "We didn't touch it. I'm sure of it."
Tom sighed, and dropped onto the bed beside her. "It has to be somewhere," he insisted, looking down at his mate. "Dermal regenerators don't just vanish into thin air."
He tugged at her arm until she got up. They both searched every square inch of the room at least a dozen times.
Tom groaned. "I guess we'll have to go to Sickbay."
"Like THIS?" B'Elanna asked, gesturing to her rather unkempt appearance and then pointing to Tom.
Rather reluctantly, Tom nodded. "Unless you have a better idea," he challenged.
She replied, "Well, you could go to Sickbay and bring a regenerator back to the cabin."
Tom glared at her. "Or, you could go."
B'Elanna flopped back down on the bed. "Or we could just not go!" she growled, though she almost had to smile at the incredulity of the situation. It really was hilarious, in a rather sadistic sort of way. She sighed. "Fine. We go to sickbay." She paused. "AFTER we get dressed."
*****
Seven minutes later, Tom cautiously opened the door and stuck his head into the corridor. He looked around and then whispered, "Coast is clear. Let's go."
They ran to the turbolift, thankfully not running into any hapless ensigns (who would have to be bound and gagged and threatened with years of cleaning the transporter pads with their toothbrush to keep quiet), and ordered it to Sickbay.
Unfortunately, the turbolift stopped at the deck below Sickbay. B'Elanna muttered a curse and was ready to take apart the entire lift and put it back together with her bare hands if it meant getting to Sickbay without being noticed.
Then the doors opened and Captain Janeway walked in. She entered and said "Deck One," seemingly without noticing her two officers. She faced the turbolift doors and tapped her PADD, muttering about something or another. Then, she cocked her head to the side and turned around, seeing Tom and B'Elanna for the first time. Her mouth dropped open and she was about to speak when the turbolift stopped again and the two lieutenants hurried out of the lift.
Captain Janeway blinked, and blinked again. She finally had to grin as the turbolift doors closed, and the grin developed into a full-blown laugh. There was one thing she could say for Voyager, and the Delta Quadrant: life was never boring!
*****
Tom and B'Elanna snuck into Sickbay, and B'Elanna hoped that no one had activated the Doc yet this morning. They were lucky. The Doctor wasn't in Sickbay. So, Tom snuck over to the supply cabinet and opened it.
To his horror, there was not a single dermal regenerator in sight.
And, as B'Elanna fidgeted beside him, full realization hit Tom. They had been set up. He had been set up. And then, another epiphany. There was one other person on board the entire ship that knew where they kept their medkit. Clenching his jaw, he tapped his commbadge. "HARRY!"
Harry frantically ignored his commbadge. He had to find somewhere to hide! Tom knew it was him! And Tom sounded very angry.
Harry threw on his uniform - he didn't notice that it had stains from last night's dinner on it - and raced out of his quarters, leaving a rather befuddled Seven of Nine behind. Harry launched himself, shoeless, into the turbolift and ordered it to the bridge, where he was met by Commander Chakotay and Captain Janeway. Chakotay was trying to stifle a smile and the captain looked rather befuddled.
Harry raced to his station and shoved a crewman out of his way. Chakotay nearly choked in an effort not to laugh, and the captain, now intrigued, asked "Mister Kim, is there something wrong?"
Harry's eyes widened, and he swallowed. "No, ma'am, I mean Captain, no there is nothing wrong. Should there be?"
"You're out of uniform, Ensign."
Harry blushed and looked down at his feet. He mumbled an apology and raced off the bridge to look for a safer place to hide.
Janeway looked at Chakotay, and Chakotay nearly went into convulsions from not laughing. Janeway was concerned, but not overly - odd things were happening every day.
Meanwhile, Harry raced back into the turbolift, when his commbadge chirped again. It was another shout of "HARRY!" and he sighed. Having B'Elanna try to kill him was not the ideal way to start the day.
*****
Seven was getting dressed in Harry's quarters and wondering where he had run off to. Suddenly, the cabin doors opened and an infuriated B'Elanna rushed in. Not noticing Seven of Nine's half dressed state, she roared, "WHERE THE HELL IS HARRY KIM?"
Seven, displaying no modesty whatsoever, stood and said, "I believe he ran out of here after Mister Paris called."
B'Elanna glared at her. "YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS?" she demanded.
Seven nodded. "Of course. As does Commander Chakotay, Mister Neelix, the Doctor, and Ensign Kim."
The furious engineer tapped her commbadge and said, as calmly as she could, "Torres to Chakotay."
A second of silence, and then Chakotay responded, Chakotay here, can I help you, Lieutenant?"
He was so calm that B'Elanna exploded. "HELP ME, Chakotay?! You can call off this damned prank of yours!"
Chakotay grinned. "Prank," he said. "I know nothing about a prank."
"LIKE HELL YOU DON'T!" B'Elanna roared.
Captain Janeway looked at her first officer and wondered if this had anything to do with the carnival he was planning.
Chakotay merely smiled calmly and closed the comm channel.
B'Elanna growled and stormed out of the cabin to look for the other co-conspirators. Seven merely watched her leave and then resumed dressing.
*****
Meanwhile, in Sickbay, Tom Paris was frantic. B'Elanna was out to kill people (a bad thing, he mused) and he was standing in the middle of Sickbay - which was sure to have some visitors relatively soon - looking for a dermal regenerator. He was worse for the wear than his mate, after all.
Much to his dismay, the Doctor chose that exact moment to activate himself. He looked rather shocked at the lieutenant's appearance, but asked, "Can I help you, Mister Paris?"
Tom Paris was sick of remaining calm. "Does it look like you can help me, Doc?" he demanded through clenched teeth. "Where the hell have you put the damned dermal regenerators! They're not in the first supply closet and the other one won't respond to my codes!!"
Trying to looked surprised rather than bursting out laughing, the Doctor walked over to the cabinet and searched through the supplies. "How odd," he muttered to his captive audience. "I'm sure I put a new supply in here just last week."
Tom started to consider letting B'Elanna reprogram Doc two feet tall and carrying a pitchfork. And, he thought, horns wouldn't hurt. "I don't care," he moaned, scratching at the bite on his face. "Just find one before we have to go on duty!"
"Don't be so hasty, Lieutenant. I think we may have a problem on out hands. Someone has been taking dermal regenerators out of the supply cabinet. And there are only a few people who have access to them." He looked pointedly at Tom.
Tom raised his hands in defense! "I have ONE!" he all but shouted. Doc raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Doc!" Tom pleaded. "This isn't funny!"
Doc grinned. "Yes, Mister Paris," he said, "it is."
B'Elanna Torres chose that particular moment to storm into sickbay. "You!" she yelled at the Doctor. "Give me a dermal regenerator or I will decompile you!!!"
The Doctor merely grinned.
B'Elanna walked over to the Sickbay control panel and started tapping in commands. Doc started to fritz. "You know, Lieutenant," he said, "I'm the only one with the code to the supply cabinet where the regen units are kept."
B'Elanna's hands stopped moving. "So," she said, her voice dangerously quiet, "you admit to being a part of this." Doc nodded, looking warily at the control panel. "And," B'Elanna said, "it is supposed to be funny?!" B'Elanna pushed a button and walked toward the Doc.
The Doctor tried to back away from the seething Klingon, but he was unable to move. "What did you do to me?" he asked frantically.
"I asked you a question," she said. "I wanted to know if you thought this 'joke' of yours is funny. Because I hate to break it to you, and to Harry and whoever else happened to be in on the scheme, that it is anything but funny." She paused for a breath, but held up a hand to keep the doctor from interrupting. "Let me tell you, Doctor, this is not only embarrassing, it's demeaning. On a ship this small, we work our hardest to stay circumspect and then you decide that it would be fun to put us on display!"
The Doctor looked down at his feet, which were glued to the floor. He took a breath and said, "Computer, open Medical Supply Cabinet 2, Authorization Emergency Medical Hologram 4247."
The door to the cabinet opened slowly and Tom grabbed a regenerator. Slowly, he brought it to B'Elanna's face, healing the marks there. He handed it to her and she reciprocated the gesture - while they were still a little sore, and there were other bruises to be taken care of later, they were at least presentable. They turned to look at the Doctor, who was still staring at the floor.
The door suddenly burst open and Neelix and Chakotay ran in. They were rather surprised at the scene in Sickbay. Neelix spluttered, "Doctor! You . . . you gave them the - the -the -"
He trailed off as Doc sighed. "Yes, Mister Neelix, I did."
Neelix gaped. "But WHY?" he demanded.
Doc sighed again. "Firstly, I was in danger of being deleted and am glued to the floor," he said, "but mostly it's because Lieutenant Torres threw quite a marvelous tirade." He paused for effect. "Gentlemen," he said, "it is time for this to end. Here and now. Practical jokes are just not, well, practical on a ship this size."
What?" Neelix sputtered. "Why? This is easily the best joke ever pulled!" He glared at the Doctor, who glared right back at him.
"Mister Neelix," Doc said, "as B'Elanna made me realize, this joke wasn't funny. It was merely humiliating. And if we are going to get our kicks from humiliating each other, this crew isn't going to last very long."
Neelix had started to get very angry, but he stopped and turned and looked at the rest of the conspirators. "What do you think?" he demanded. Harry shrugged, sure Tom would never speak to him again. Chakotay said nothing.
Seven of Nine spoke up, "I agree with the Doctor." Turning to B'Elanna, she continued, "I do not know much about human interaction. However, I believe the correct term to use in this situation is, 'I am sorry.'"
B'Elanna gaped, the dermal regenerator falling from her hand. Tom blinked, just as amazed as his mate. Had Seven of Nine, Borg extrordinaire, just apologized for something? After that incident when she had been following them around and showed no guilt at all, he had been certain it wasn't a possibility.
Neelix huffed and puffed and then finally gave in. "Well," he said, "I guess it wasn't the nicest thing to do."
"No," B'Elanna chimed in, somehow tearing her gaze from Seven. "It wasn't." She looked around. "How the hell did this damned prank war get started?" she demanded, hands on her hips glaring at the chagrined pranksters - most of the senior staff.
They all looked at each other.
Then Chakotay spoke up. "I don't even remember." Everyone else murmured the same thing. "But, as the Doctor said, it has got to stop. Not only is it simply not nice, but we are also senior officers, and we are supposed to set a good example for the rest of the crew."
There was a general nodding of heads.
Then, Neelix spoke up. "I remember!" he said animatedly. "It had to do with the leola root in Seven's cargo bay," he said.
Tom sighed. "Which was there because I beamed it off the bridge."
"It was in my quarters, flyboy," B'Elanna reminded.
"You reprogrammed my television!" Tom said.
B'Elanna's eyes widened. "Oh, Kahless," she said, laughing. "Does it come back to that?" she asked, looking around. Everyone looked at her. "Gods!" she exclaimed. "I thought we had left the problems of television in the 21st century!"
"What do you mean?" Chakotay asked, butting into her tirade.
B'Elanna shook her head, trying and failing to hide a Cheshire-cat grin. "I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."
Chakotay grinned, and the tension was broken in the room. Suddenly, Captain Janeway's voice was heard over the comm system. "Janeway to Chakotay."
Chakotay tapped his commbadge. "Chakotay here."
"Is there a reason my entire senior staff is late for duty?" Janeway demanded, and Chakotay looked around the room at the different faces and expressions.
Taking them all in, he said, "Captain, most of us will be along shortly. However, I owe - we owe - an apology to a few people. If you could remove Lieutenants Paris and Torres from today's duty roster . . . ."
Janeway, who was finally beginning to understand what had been happening, smiled and said, "All right, Commander. Oh, your carnival is scheduled to start today, isn't it?"
Chakotay grimaced as the rest of the group dispersed. "Yes, Captain. It's in the final steps of preparation. Chakotay out."
*****
Later that day, having not cleaned up Tom's quarters, Tom and B'Elanna went back to start the long process. They were almost done putting the furniture in order when B'Elanna looked up. She glanced at the television, which had started this whole thing. "You know why I reprogrammed the television, don't you, Tom?" she asked quietly, fluffing a pillow on the couch.
Tom stopped what he was doing. "Something about us not talking, was it?"
B'Elanna smiled sadly. "Something like that," she agreed, stopping work to approach Tom. "I always thought dragging someone away from something was a figure of speech, Tom."
He raised his eyebrows. "That happened once!" he protested. "And, you're the one who dragged me away!"
She grinned at him stepping ever closer. "Would you have wanted Captain Janeway to call and have me explain that you weren't coming to the bridge today because the cartoons were too interesting?" She grinned as he blushed.
"It wasn't cartoons!" he said, but continued. "Okay, I see what you are getting at. I promise to stop watching the television so much, . . . if you will please put it back to normal!"
B'Elanna decided not to be offended, but had to ask, "Do you have problems with the picture on the screen, Tom?" She continued her slow march towards him, coming within a foot.
He looked down at her. "Of course I don't have a problem with the picture on the screen!" He backed up as she got closer and tripped over the couch as that very image loomed over him.
She leaned over him, that grin still plastered in place. "That's nice to know," she said, voice still questioning. "Prove it."
He grinned. "You asked for it . . . " he said, as he reached up for her waist. B'Elanna tried to jump out of the way but tripped over Tom's outstretched leg and fell flat on top of him His arms went around her waist and held her there. She didn't really struggle, putting her arms around his neck. "Let me see," Tom said.
B'Elanna growled and struggled to get up. Tom, however, held her down. then he rolled on top of her, grinning madly. "I have to prove this to you, do I?" At once, he leaned down and kissed her.
He felt her smiling, even as she struggled against him. Tom continued kissing her, and grabbed her arms so she couldn't do too much damage with her nails pressing her into the couch. "How to prove that I think you're the most amazing, wonderful, perfect thing ever to happen to me?" he asked as he lifted his head, glancing at her with a quizzical grin.
She just shrugged. "You'll have to think of something new, Paris."
Tom grinned at her. "I like a challenge."
B'Elanna grinned, turning her sultry, amused gaze at Tom. "I've noticed, Paris," she said.
Tom let go of B'Elanna's wrists for a minute to think. Then, he grinned at her and found himself flat on his back, B'Elanna grinning down at him. "But, you were doing just fine, actually, helmboy," she said. "In fact, I think I just might believe you. But you're still going to have to prove it."
Tom lunged at her, but she ducked, leaving him sprawled rather unceremoniously on the couch. "Well," Tom said, "there's one thing that's usually worked in the past."
"What's that?" B'Elanna asked, knowing exactly what he meant. She grinned.
"This!" Tom yelled as he caught B'Elanna around the waist and pulled her to the floor with him kissing her as he did so. B'Elanna grinned and quite happily submitted herself to his quite pleasing ministrations.
*****
Meanwhile, the party was just getting started in the mess hall. Neelix had finally finished decorating and was in the middle of setting out the food and drinks when Commander Chakotay walked in, looking perplexed. "Did you get everything straight, Neelix?" he asked looking around warily.
"Oh, of course, Commander!" Neelix replied breezily, setting out the last glass of syntheholic wine. "Now all we need are guests!"
"They're coming, don't worry. I hear the captain is even making an appearance."
*****
Over the course of the next half hour, crewmen trickled into the mess hall in twos and threes, eagerly sampling the champagne - which Tuvok eyed suspiciously. He wasn't sure it was Federation standard. He considered informing Mr. Neelix of this infraction when the captain appeared behind him.
"Let them have their fun, Tuvok," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder.
Tuvok nodded slightly and picked up a glass of the not-quite-synthehol and offered it to the captain. She grinned at him and he raised an eyebrow. "Surely, you can not deny your own 'fun,' Captain," he said sardonically, pushing the glass into her hand before pointedly not picking one up for himself.
Janeway shook her head. "I suppose not, old friend," Janeway said, glancing around at her crew.
Her gaze fell on Harry, who was eagerly chatting with Seven of Nine and drinking his champagne perhaps a little too quickly. Janeway started to walk over, but decided not to spoil the moment.
So, instead, she went over to Chakotay to congratulate him on the party's success. "Commander," she said smoothly, insinuating herself between him and the food. "Wonderful job on this carnival."
Chakotay glanced around. "I suppose," he said.
Janeway eyed him suspiciously. "Something wrong?" she asked.
He shook his head. "It's nothing, Captain."
She pressed further. "Chakotay, I know something is going on. It's not every day that Harry reports for duty with out shoes on. Or that Tom and B'Elanna have bite marks on their faces."
Chakotay blushed. "Let's just call it a practical joke gone horribly awry," he said, wishing his blush would go away. It hadn't been his idea, after all.
Janeway raised her eyebrows but only said, "I hope Tom and B'Elanna enjoyed their day off." Looking over Chakotay's shoulder, she saw Harry and Seven still talking intensely and wondered what those two could possibly find to talk about.
*****
On the other side of the room, unaware of the captain's harsh gaze, Seven said, "Harry, what exactly is this drink composed of?"
Harry responded, "It's synthehol, Seven. It has all the properties of alcohol except for its stimulating nature. Thus, you don't get the ‘buzz' that accompanies alcohol."
Seven regarded him with what Harry found was a funny look. "I disagree, Harry," she said, swaying a little on her high-heeled feet.
Harry put out a hand to steady her. "Do you want to go back to your cabin, Seven?"
"No, no. I am unaffected," Seven replied slowly, letting her quite obviously affected gaze travel down Harry's form.
"Seven," he said warily, watching as she meandered towards him at a snail's pace. "I really think we should go back to my cabin!"
"No, Harry. I wish to stay for the party," Seven said. Then she walked purposefully towards the snack table and tripped over her own foot.
Harry helped her to her feet, while many of the crew snickered behind their hands. "Seven," Harry said, "either we go to my quarters or to sickbay!"
Seven looked at him, her eyes a little hazy. "But there is nothing wrong with me, Harry darling!"
Harry's eyebrows shot up and he took Seven firmly by the arm. "My quarters. Now."
Seven whined and tried unsuccessfully to pull her arm free as Harry dragged her out of the messhall. Not noticing the snickers, the raised eyebrows, and a very shocked command team, Harry led Seven into the corridor and to the turbolift.
Janeway looked away from the messhall doors and back toward Chakotay. She raised an eyebrow, but he just shrugged. "I'm not going to worry yet, Captain," he said. "Just keep me away from practical jokers." Janeway laughed.
*****
Meanwhile, Neelix was fluttering around the room making sure everyone had full drinks and full stomachs. When the room was sufficiently crowded, he ordered the computer to turn on some music and dim the lights. Then, the ambiance would be just perfect for a great party. Of course, what could have been the life of the party had just been shoved out the door. Seven of Nine drunk? Neelix was beginning to wonder if his parties inspired odd behavior.
He shrugged and started dancing along to the music until Chakotay came up to him. "Everything okay, Commander?"
Just fine," Chakotay said, nodding to the beat of the music.
"Oh," said Neelix, and there was a brief period of silence between the two. Neelix continued, "should we do something to make up for our stupidity this morning?" he asked.
"Probably," replied Chakotay, "but for now it seems that B'Elanna and Tom have . . . other business to attend to. They haven't made an appearance at the party yet, and something tells me they aren't going to."
Neelix chuckled. "Those two are a pair, aren't they?" he asked, looking conspiratorially at the commander, who grinned.
"I suppose so," he said. "I suppose so." Chakotay patted Neelix on the back and walked back towards the captain, his thoughts wandering.
*****
Harry pulled Seven into his quarters and hurriedly locked the door before anyone else could notice the drunken Borg he had in tow.
She staggered to the bed. "Harry!" she called, "Now that we're here, what should we do?"
Harry mumbled under his breath, "Get you a detox hypo?" but said out loud, "You need to sleep, Seven."
Seven sleepily smiled, murmuring "Okay, Harry," and tried to drag him into his bedroom. "No, Seven. You need SLEEP. Really!"
But Seven would have none of it. As her hands found his turtleneck, Harry mused that there were worse ways to end a party - and a day.
*****
Meanwhile, B'Elanna snuggled sleepily against Tom.
Tom put his arm around her and buried his face in her hair. He murmured, "Goodnight, B'Elanna," and they both fell asleep, completely comfortable, and completely oblivious to everything but each other.
Of course, they were completely oblivious to some of the repercussions of the prank war, too.
In sickbay, the Doctor looked around, but remained rooted to the floor. Reaching his hand to his commbadge he said, "Doctor to Commander Chakotay!"
In the messhall, Chakotay sighed, smiled, and went to help the Doctor - and hoped, sincerely, that there would be no hard feelings. He could do without another prank war. One was more than enough for him.
*END*