Special

Title: Special
Author: Ky (venom69)
Fandom: Star Trek: Voyager
Rating: ADULT
Summary: "Have you even considered how deep Tuvok's eyebrows are?"
Character/Pairing: Janeway/Chakotay
Spoilers: None… the show’s ended!
Warnings: None, really.
Prompt Number for fic101: 68 - Laugh
Author’s Notes: Song belongs to Avenue Q. For

amandal557, who deserves it. Sequel to 'I Thing, You Jane.'
Disclaimer: Usual guff. Not mine, promise to put them back where I found them.
Date: 06/03/07

***

I can make you feel special
When it sucks to be you
Let me make you feel special
For an hour or two

***

It wasn't so much the fact that she was drunk that bothered her.

No, roughly three seconds after she had decided that she needed to get out of the meeting - and fast! - Kathryn realized that her biggest problem was namely the Vulcan contingent of their negotiations.

She shot a desperate look to Tuvok and tried to convey a thousand things into her look, but may have barely managed anything that went beyond the equivalent of 'Heeeeeeeeeey, how you doin'?.'

While her body buzzed happily after the ten - eleven? twelve? - drinks that she had consumed, her mind, or at least part of her mind, was zeroing in on the fact that she was extremely drunk and this was not the place for it.

The negotiations swirled around her and while Kathryn was relatively certain that Tuvok hadn't traded half of Deck twelve, she thought that he may very well have traded her; at least until the alcohol left her system.

She snorted in amusement and became extremely aware of the fact that Chakotay's head was still on her shoulder and her snort had jiggled him.

"Will you move?" She hissed quietly.

"Nope." He slurred. "View's good."

Well, that may have been so, but Tuvok's eyebrow had moved from questioning, passed concerned, and on to "I know exactly what you are considering."

Which was impressive, especially given that she didn't really know what she was considering.

Or if she was even considering anything at all.

Heh.

"What's funny?"

Kathryn couldn't help but think that it was only thanks to her own inebriated state - those twelve, possibly thirteen drinks really packed a punch - that she could understand what he was saying.

The reverse was probably true for him.

"Have you even considered how deep Tuvok's eyebrows are?"

He coughed. "Erm. Can't say I have."

"Look at him." She felt his head turn from a study of her uniformed cleavage to look across the table. "Look how deep that is."

Tuvok's look showed his disapproval clearly and Kathryn could almost - almost - read the Starfleet Protocols on them.

"It's deep." Chakotay agreed, before turning his attention back to what was, apparently, far more interesting.

Kathryn looked down at the top of his head and frowned. "They're just breasts."

And, unless alcohol gave him x-ray vision, he couldn't actually see them anyway.

"Mmm, but they're yours."

"That doesn't make them any more special."

"Sure it does. The look like they belong to you. They smell like you. They're on you. That makes them special."

Idly, she thought that they should get out of there before Chakotay decided to try and taste them.

Especially considering that Kathryn wasn't sure she'd stop him.

Tuvok appeared to agree with her mental thought - damn telepath - because it was only a split second later that he was standing and bowing at their hosts, exchanging Goodbye's.

Following his lead, Kathryn jumped to her feet - and ignored the indignant squawk from Chakotay as he hit the floor - and bowed her own Goodbye, smiling and nodding and keeping her mouth firmly shut in case she offended them when Voyager was on the home stretch.

Their hosts offered to send another round of beverages - And Tuvok declined, the bastard - before they turned and left.

Kathryn frowned across the table as Tuvok watched her. "Did we win?"

"It was not a competition." He replied seriously. "We were engaged in negotiations."

"I know." Kathryn nodded and watched as trails of light twisted and twirled in front of her eyes. "So did we win?"

"It was successful."

Turning her attention from Tuvok, Kathryn looked down at her feet. "They're just feet."

Chakotay looked up at her and grinned. "I know. They're not all that special."

She snorted again. "Ha! You haven't seen my sparkly toe nail polish yet."

"I believe now would be a wise time to depart."

Nodding - the colour, oh, the colour! - Kathryn moved her head round and round, making patters with the colours that followed her eyes as Tuvok called for a beam out.

***

When they materialized back on Voyager, for a good minute, at the least, she was certain that she was going to vomit all over the transporter pad.

Apparently Chakotay felt much the same way and they leaned on each other for support.

"Captain? Are you OK?"

Dimly, she heard the transporter operator calling to her but she couldn't bring herself to reply as the room spun in circles - in the bad way.

"Sleep." She muttered.

"Bed." Chakotay agreed, the word coming out on a moan.

"Sickbay." Tuvok countered.

With one hand firmly holding her arm and the other holding Chakotay's, Kathryn had no choice but to let herself be led out of the transporter room and down the hall, presumably to sickbay.

***

"How many drinks have you had?"

The Doctor was speaking to her but his words were coming out slowly.

Kathryn wondered if she was that drunk or if he was having some kind of malfunction. "Do you think deuterium is pretty?"

"Captain!"

"I think it would be pretty. And shiny."

"Captain."

"Hmm?" She raised an eyebrow - though it may have been an ear for all the control she had at this point - and tried to focus on him. "Did I ever tell you that I don't get laid enough?"

The Doctor coughed.

Tuvok raised another telling eyebrow.

Tom - hey, where had he come from? - grinned liked mad.

Chakotay looked like he would raise his hand if he could manage it.

The Doctor coughed again. "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm serious." She was.

"I don't think now is really the time to be discussing this..."

"I had to drink fourteen glasses of that stupid stuff. Fourteen."

"I see."

"And do I get paid enough for that? No!"

"Paid." The Doctor nodded. "You meant to say that you don't get paid enough."

"That's what I said."

"No it's not." Tom was still grinning. "Though I'm sure both are true."

"Both what?"

"Never mind." The Doctor glared and Kathryn considered that maybe he didn't get laid enough either. Or paid. Whatever. "Captain, I can't give you anything to counter the amount of alcohol you've drunk, it's too dangerous. Your system couldn't handle anything more at this point so you're going to have to sleep it off."

"So you don't think deuterium is shiny?"

The Doctor glared at her and Kathryn tried not to giggle at the purple cloud that surrounded him.

***

She was in uniform, lying on a bed, her boots and socks were missing, there was something solid and warm on top of her and that was the extent of her knowledge.

There were no colours behind her eyelids anymore, just the slight beginnings of a pounding in her head.

She imagined ten little monkeys in a line, playing on her brain like bongos and couldn't help but laugh when she added grass skirts to the mix.

Opening her eyes, she frowned when Chakotay stared down at her. "Why are you here?"

"Why are you here?"

"I sleep now."

He leant down to - presumably - nuzzle her neck but may have ended up drooling on her instead. "Here?"

"It's a bed."

"Mmm."

"And I sleep in beds."

"Not usually mine, though."

The mattress beneath her felt pretty damn familiar. The body above her, however... "This is your bed?"

"Yep. And you're in it." He grinned.

It was slightly disarming.

"Huh." She looked left, then right, and still couldn't say for certain that this wasn't her bed. "Huh."

"You said you didn't get laid enough."

"No I didn't."

"Did so."

"Did not."

"Yep."

"Nope."

"You really do have sparkly toenails." He pressed their bodies together. "And you're breasts are pretty special, too."

It was about that point that Kathryn realized her shirt and tank top were also missing.

Huh.

Well... OK then.

"You're feeling pretty special too." And he was, but there was something missing.

Chakotay moved his head to kiss her and it was all wrong - bad angle, too much tongue, teeth in the way - but it was still really, really good and Kathryn realized, a little later than he had, apparently, that the - fifteenth, sixteenth - drink had left her feeling ready to screw anything that moved.

She moaned into his mouth and silently marvelled at how easy it was to finally give in to what they both wanted for years after getting drunk with the locals, as it were.

Tugging at his uniform, she was dismayed to discover that her motor functions weren’t quite what she was used to and, no matter how much she tried, her fingers couldn’t grip enough of the fabric to actually get anywhere.

Pulling their bodies apart – and, hey, that kinda sucked – Chakotay pulled his own uniform off and grinned at her before setting to work on her pants.

Once they were both naked – and it took way too much effort for it to be sensual - he went straight for her right breast, easily finding a nipple and latching on.

Kathryn yelped when his teeth came into play. “They are attached.”

“Sorry.” He mumbled around her flesh.

She couldn’t really bring herself to be mad at him as his tongue found the right pressure and his hand trailed down her body to the juncture of her thighs.

Parting her legs in invitation, she moved her hips against his hand as he stroked her, learning her body and her likes and dislikes.

His finger found her clit and found a good rhythm and Kathryn thought that, despite the sixteen – seventeen? Eighteen? – drinks she’d been pressured into drinking, this was the best day she’d had in years.

“Want you.” She groaned.

Pulling his hands and lips from her skin – yeah, that kinda sucked as well – Chakotay moved to lay flush against her, their lower bodies making contact without the barrier of underwear or uniforms separating them.

Huh.

So much for the Maquis Stud she’d always imagined.

Chakotay frowned down at her, his eyes wide with embarrassment. “This has never happened before.”

Kathryn suspected that, drunk or not, all men said that.

“It’s OK.” She yawned. For as much as she was ‘in the mood’, she didn’t think she had the energy to participate in anything that would lead to an orgasm right now. “Sleep now.”

Nodding, he rolled to the side and she thought that she saw him frown down at the general direction of his groin before he closed his eyes and started snoring in all of four seconds, apparently well and truly over the shame.

Men.

Curling her body into his, Kathryn closed her eyes and silently vowed that there was always next time.

***

When she finally made it to the Bridge some twelve hours after her return to Voyager, Kathryn thought it quite possible that the lavatory system had taken up residence in her mouth while all the lower-deck personnel took turns in swinging something large and heavy at her head.

Her plan was to go and see the Doctor once she'd checked in with Tuvok and was sure that her hangover wouldn't be greeted with laughter.

She moved straight to tactical and smiled guiltily at her old friend. “Morning.”

“Afternoon.” He returned evenly. “Are you feeling better?”

She coughed, embarrassed, and heard Chakotay snicker behind her. “Yes, thank you. How many of those brown drinks did I have?”

Last count, in her mind, had been eighteen or nineteen.

“Two glasses.”

“Two?”

“Technically, one and a half.”

One and a half?

He had to be kidding, surely?

But his eyebrows were as serious as the rest of his face and she couldn’t even pretend that this was an example of the greatly sarcastic man that she knew lurked just beneath the calm exterior.

Still… only one and a half glasses to – all but literally – knock her onto her ass?

That was kind of pathetic.

“God… I must be getting easier as I get older.”

Tuvok’s eyebrow raised itself to new heights and she understood the meaning perfectly.

Chakotay – looking about as glamorous as she felt – wisely chose to stay silent.

***

End