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Title: Problem
Author: Venom_69
Category: Romance, angst, humor
Pairing: Janeway/Chakotay
Rating: R
Archive:
Anywhere
Disclaimer: Don’t own them, never will. Promise to put them back in the state I found them.
Feedback:
Hell yeah! Don’t make me beg, hit reply and stroke my ego please.
Dedication: As always, for LEW. For DJ, who didn’t
get the smut she asked for, but liked the fic anyway.
Date: 22-4-04
Copyright © to Venom, 2003
***
You’re
on the bridge when you realize that you’re in love with him.
It’s odd, you’re not doing anything
unusual. You’re sitting in your chair, on your Bridge, on your ship and you’re reading the PADD that he passed
to you a few moments earlier. You remember that your fingers brushed against each other lightly, and you felt the small tingle
that ran through your body. That was to be expected. You’ve been alone in the Delta Quadrant for several years now,
and any contact is welcome contact.
Especially from him.
But still…one little touch and then your mind
went walking. Quite pathetic, really. He touches you every day, but there was something about today that really made you think.
And this line of thinking makes you cranky because you’ve just realized that you’re in love with him and there
isn’t a damn thing you can do about it.
You’re the Captain; Captain’s don’t get cranky when
they need to get laid.
Perhaps you’re ovulating.
But maybe you’ve contracted a disease that makes
you react this way. Recalling the mission on Stardate 50537.2, you pray that it isn’t Pon Farr. You don’t think
you could handle being obsessed with mating, like B’Elanna was. There has to be a medical reason to explain what’s
wrong with you; why you’re acting this way… why you’re responding this way.
He reaches over and touches
you gently on the arm, and there’s the spark again. “Are you ok, Captain?”
You look up from your
PADD that you had been staring at. “Fine.” Your response is terse and you accompany it with a smile to take the
sting from your words. “Actually,” you begin, standing, “I think I may go and visit the Doctor. The Bridge
is yours Commander.”
He nods and you walk to the turbolift.
Sickbay is, thankfully, empty when you arrive,
and the Doctor is listening to Mozart. He doesn’t see you, sitting in his chair using a Hypospray as his mock conductor’s
wand. You’d be amused if there wasn’t an irritatingly good wetness between your legs.
“Doctor.”
He’s
startled, and he drops the Hypospray as he turns to face you. “Captain….is there something I can do for you?”
You
hide your smirk as best you can, but you know that he sees it. “I’d like you to examine me.”
“Is
something wrong?”
“Let’s just say I’m feeling…off.”
“’Off’?”
Obviously they didn’t cover ‘off’ as an adequate list of symptoms in the Doctor’s sub-routines.
“Just examine me.”
***
An hour later you’re getting re-dressed and the Doctor is examining
your scans. You don’t really expect him to find anything wrong, but you’re hoping for a medically sound reason
to explain your problem.
“Well?” You finally ask, after a painfully long silence.
“Captain,
your endorphin levels are elevated, as is your heart and blood rate. I don’t think we need to be too concerned.”
You
resist the urge to roll your eyes at him. “Which means what, exactly?”
You don’t think that you’ve
ever seen the Doctor’s look uncomfortable before. “I believe that you are in a state of sexual arousal.”
Oh.
“Oh.”
Well…..
“I
believe that I have something that would help you with you, ahem, problem.” He offers. And, if nothing else, your curiosity
is piqued.
“I’m open to suggestions.”
The Doctor turns back to the console in front of him
and you can see him accessing files, and inputting commands, but he is blocking your sight. Now your curiosity is definitely
provoked. What could he possibly be doing?
“Computer, activate site to site transport.”
You don’t
get the chance to ask him what he’s up to before you feel your molecules pulled apart in the transported beam. When
you re-materialize, you find yourself in a dimmed room.
Candles are scattered strategically around the room and there
is a large four-poster bed in the center. You can see satin sheets poking out from underneath the comforter.
You yourself
have lost your uniform. It’s been replaced with a long black number; lace and silk. Something that is clearly not meant
to be worn for long. You hair has been pulled from its usual tight bun to cascade down your back.
It’s the ultimate
in clichéd romantic setting.
“Kathryn.”
At the sound of your name you spin around to see…
one very naked, very holographic Chakotay standing before you wearing nothing but a smile.
You’re going to kill
the Doctor.
***
End.
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