Title: I Thing, You Jane
Author: Ky (venom69)
Fandom: Star Trek: Voyager
Rating: Mature People
Summary: She had a job to do. Damnit.
Character/Pairing: Janeway/Chakotay
Spoilers: None… the show’s ended!
Warnings: Language.
Prompt Number for fic101: 41 - Job
Author’s Notes: Song belongs to Jenny Morris.
Disclaimer: Usual guff. Not mine, promise to put them back where I found them.
Date: 04/03/07

***

I need a break in the weather
Trying to take a breath

***

Kathryn eyed the glass in front of her.

The glass itself was tall and square and it was full to almost the top with some kind of brown liquid.

A thin layer of foam along the top was somewhat disconcerting, but their hosts for the evening were watching her and she didn't think it would serve them well in diplomatic relations if she pulled a face or made any kind of 'eww' sounds.

She had a job to do.

Damnit.

Tentatively picking the glass up, she raised it to her lips and took a small sip.

The foam tickled at her taste buds and then her esophagus as they slid down her throat. The liquid itself was slightly bitter, but it had a sweet aftertaste.

It certainly wasn't coffee, but it wasn't all that bad either.

She smiled at her host, nodding her approval.

The host grinned. "You like?"

Kathryn nodded again and took a larger sip. "It's good."

"Most excellent!"

When another equally full glass was placed in front of her, Kathryn wondered where the nearest bathroom was.

Are they serious?

***

It was only after her fifth - or sixth? Maybe seventh. Possibly eighth. - glass of the brown liquid that Kathryn realized she may very well be drunk.

Or something like it, anyway.

Her skin had started tingling not long after the third glass, a pleasant buzz that radiated throughout her entire body.

The fourth glass had brought about a slight spinning sensation that made her wonder exactly how well she would achieve the task of standing up.

The fifth glass had turned her world into Technicolor and Kathryn had been getting several painful reminders from her bladder that she hadn't used the amenities in a while.

Nodding at her host - who was now a bright shade of purple in her eyes - she mad her way towards where the facilities were kept.

When she finally made it into the small room, she was dismayed to find that the entire room was covered in mirrors.

Floor to ceiling mirrors.

Oh you've got to be kidding me.

***

She doesn't know how she managed it, but Kathryn blinked and she found herself seated at the table again.

Her bladder was no longer complaining so she considered her bathroom mission a successful one.

Now, if only she could remember any of it.

How she was feeling now - the buzzing and the Technicolor and the humming of her blood as it raced through her - wasn't like being drunk on cider or wine.

She'd done that before and it had always resulted in slurred speech, the loss of motor functions and, on one memorable occasion, the removal of her clothes in public.

This was different though.

When she heard herself speak, each word came out exactly as she had intended. When she stood and walked around the table, waving her hands madly, every step was completely normal.

It was just that she felt really, really good.

Not that feeling good was a bad thing - quite the opposite, actually - it was just that there was a part of her that knew she wasn't in complete control any more and that was one thing that she had never liked.

She hadn't known that the drink would do this to her.

Tuvok had scanned the glass discreetly before she took a sip, nodding to her that she wasn't going to turn green and die if she drank it - he had very descriptive nods - and diplomacy dictated that she not upset the aliens with the really big guns.

Guns that she wanted and had subsequently ended up something akin to drunk for.

Starfleet doesn't pay me enough for this.

***

People were talking to her - and she really hoped that this wasn't the main part of their negotiations or Voyager may well be screwed - and Kathryn found that every word floated across to her on a wave of music.

The sentences bounced around in her brain for a bit and she replied intelligently - at least, she assumed it was intelligent since no one was shooting at her - but by the time she'd finished speaking, she had no idea what the original conversation starter had been.

It left her with a disturbing feeling that she could trade off half of deck twelve and she would only care for thirty seconds.

"You wish for deuterium?"

Kathryn blinked, letting the words soak into her brain as she tried to formulate a response.

Did they want deuterium?

What would they use it for?

Was it pretty?

Before she could actually contemplate asking about its aesthetic qualities, Kathryn heard someone else answering for her and she nodded along willingly.

This is ridiculous!

***

"Chakotay." She hissed to her left.

Her only saving grace for this meeting was that her sensible, reliable First Officer was sitting next to her and, to Kathryn's knowledge, he hadn't been required to drink anything in order for the talks to get underway.

Apparently, the custom here was to share a drink - or eight, possibly nine - between the leaders of the party and then everyone got down to work.

Since Chakotay wasn't a leader of the Voyager party, he wouldn't have been asked to have a drink - or ten - and thus would be sober and able to get her out of this mess without her making an ass of herself.

She hoped.

Chakotay leaned closer to her and somehow ended up with his head resting on her shoulder. "Yes?"

"I think I'm a little under the weather."

It was a tactful way of putting it, but Kathryn thought saying "I'm as pissed as a newt" would raise some eyebrows.

"I thing that you're a lot under the weather."

"You thing?"

"Think."

"What?"

"I think."

"You said thing."

"I meant think."

"Are you sure?"

"No."

"Chakotay?"

"Yes?"

"Are you drunk?"

"Possibly."

Great.

Her First Officer was drunk and leaning on her shoulder - and just where were his eyes directed? - and her body was buzzing with the hum of something foreign in her system.

Perfect.

How the hell do I get out of this now?

***

End