"Kathryn, why did you always have dogs instead of cats?"
It takes her a moment to come back, her mind still flooded of memories of Kes. "There were always barn cats having kittens. Bear used to mother the kittens of the cats who would let her near." She shifts in the bed to face me. Her eyes glint in the darkness. "Then when I was about 10, I fell in love with a particular kitten -- a beautiful little calico with green eyes -- and convinced my mother to let her live in the house with me. That only lasted until she started bringing home presents -- Phoebe couldn't bear finding maimed birds on the dining room floor....."
Her voice drifts off. All she can find tonight are the disappointments, and maybe that is my fault. Right now, though, she has given me enough for a story. Perhaps with this one, I can make her smile.
"Kathryn, did I ever tell you about the time Neelix found a mouse hole in his kitchen?"
Seven paused just inside the entrance to the Mess Hall. Her adopted
culture never failed to surprise her, but she had a feeling that the
scene before her was unique, even for humans.
"Get it!"
"Where'd it go?"
"There, there! Under the table."
Megan and Jenny Delaney huddled on top of one of the mess hall's
tables, one letting out a shriek the minute the other stopped to gasp
for more shriekable air. They seemed to be complementing each other
quite well. Neelix had a huge colander, and was making life much more
dangerous for the surrounding humans than he was for whatever had
just run under a table on the far side of the room. Various other
members of the crew were wielding brooms, large pots and a creative
variety of other weapons, as they converged on their prey.
Tom Paris leaned against the serving counter, laughing outright at
the antics of his fellow crewmembers. He slapped his com badge,
"Paris to Security. We've been boarded by aliens. Please report to
the Mess Hall." His delighted chortle brought a pained look to the
face of the impassive Security Officer whose morning had just been
irretrievably corrupted.
Meanwhile, the Captain was just entering her Ready Room for the start
of her shift. In spite of the nearly empty coffee mug in her hand,
alertness was not her foremost attribute. She blearily rubbed a hand
across an aching forehead and crossed towards the replicator, which
was located on the far side of a small coffee table. Halfway around
the table, her foot hit something unexpected and soft. Slightly
slippery, too. Her legs went flying out from under her, her coffee
cup, suddenly minus it's contents, took a flying leap across the
room, and her left hand came in contact with what she'd slipped on.
Looking down, her startled cry became a shriek that rivaled that of
the Delaneys', two decks below.
Chakotay, ever protective of the diminutive (and Adorable) redhead
who had captured his heart, heard her scream as he exited the
turbolift. Without stopping to announce his entrance, he barged into
the Ready Room to find his Courageous, Steadfast (and Adorable)
captain huddled in her desk chair. She'd gone completely pale, and
one hand covered her mouth in horror while she regarded the other
with something approaching revulsion. She didn't seem able to speak;
when she saw her Large, and Masculine First Officer, she simply
pointed with the damaged hand towards the coffee table.
Because this pale and shaken woman was, after all, his Steadfast and
Courageous Captain, Chakotay fully expected to find a naked,
pompadoured Kazon reclining on the Ready Room couch. All he could
find, however, was a rather wet coffee-colored carpet stain, and the
half-eaten carcass of a very small, very dead ....... mouse.
Surmising, that this very small, very dead mouse was no longer a
danger, he turned his attention to his Bold and Steadfast Captain.
She looked like she might be going into shock; at any rate it was a
grand excuse to hold and comfort her. He grabbed a quilt from the
back of the couch and reached for a small pillow that was resting
next to the quilt.
"Meeeerrroooooowwwww!" said the pillow.
Why, oh, why hadn't she replicated some Klingon coffee this morning?
The faint blush that crept up her cheeks when she remembered the
exact reason distracted her from her aching knees for several meters.
Thus, she was brought rather rudely back to the present when one knee
contacted something…. squishy. The headless carcass that appeared in
her headlamp slammed her back into her coffeeless funk.
"Bleeeeaaahhh," she muttered with feeling. "Torres to Security.
Evidence of alien invasion in Jeffries tube #17G. "
Skirting the small carcass with a squeamishness she'd never have
admitted to in public, she crawled the few remaining meters to the
gelpack access she needed. When something small ran across her hand,
she cursed Tom Paris murderously.
"Whhaaaaat?" He sat bolt upright in bed, rubbing his eyes, as the
furry warmth made for distant and dusky corners.
"Aaaaa---- ahhhhh - CHOOOOO!" Definitely a cat. On Voyager? In the
Delta Quadrant?
"Smmmmiiiirffffttttt" Harry strangled the next sneeze and blearily
wondered if he could get to Sick Bay before his eyes ...
"Aaaaachooo!" ... swelled closed. He'd 'thought' "sneefffffetttttt"
he was safe from this problem ... 'choo' ... on a freakin' starship,
for ... AAAAA, AAAAAA, AAAA, chooooooo! ... Pete's sake.
Pete was probably related to Murphy...
"Okay, mister, you've had your fun. Now it's my turn." I will do
anything for the twinkle in those eyes. I nod my acquiescence.
* * *
"Attention, Senior Officers. Please report to an emergency staff
meeting at 0800 hours in the Bridge Conference Room." The Captain's
voice came over the commlink, it's usual precision slightly marred by
a low rumble in the background. Her attention diverted, she
inadvertently left her finger on the commlink microphone long enough
for her next sentence to float throughout the ship. "Chakotay, it's
only a scratch - don't be such a baby."
Tom Paris allowed his attention to be briefly diverted from the live
entertainment being provided in the mess hall. He needed a moment to
consider the ramifications that the Captain's comment might have on
the most popular betting pool. Clearly, emphasizing the romantic
aspects of the Commander's relationship with Janeway (Virile and
Handsome though the First Officer might be), was not going to win
Paris any replicator rations tonight.
B'Elanna snorted, "I'm glad someone else is having a bad morning."
She fit the access panel back into place and turned to retrace her
journey, carefully avoiding the carcass she'd met so pleasantly a few
minutes before. Maybe, if she hurried, she'd have time to grab a cup
of Ractijino out of the replicator in her office.
"AAAAAAAH . . . ahhhhhh" Harry took a cautious breath and nodded at the
Doctor, whose supercilious smirk was just visible to his slowly
opening left eye. "Well, Mr. Kim, I recommend you not pursue intimacy
with any more aliens, at least until the antihistamine takes
affect." Harry wondered if said aliens could be persuaded to knead
the doctor's holographic knee or give him holographic hives.
Neelix took a flying leap reminiscent of Vince Lombardi and slapped
the colander down with a crash. The small gray alien left behind a quarter centimeter of tail and dashed for the nearest air duct. Mr. Paris
could still be heard chuckling from his comfortable perch atop the
buffet counter.
Seven of Nine took her seat, still contemplating why the Borg would
ever have wanted to assimilate a Talaxian, let alone the Delaney
sisters. Her aural implants desperately needed a mute button.
* * *
Kathryn pauses as I laugh, and I raise myself from the bed to sit
beside her. Giving me a satisfied smirk, she lifts herself over my
leg to settle in my lap, and leans back against my chest. She wraps
my arms around herself and snuggles down. I make a silent bet with
myself that this story will be our last tonight. The demons have been
banished by a small, multi-colored kitten.
* * *
Neelix arrived, still clutching his colander and limping slightly.
Harry Kim seemed to find a new place to scratch every time Paris
looked at him. He looked a little the worse for wear. Paris was just
about to ask him about it when his attention was distracted by a
rather lovely half-Klingon who bore a coffee mug the size of a 1937
Chevy's gas tank and a scowl that rivaled it. Gods, she was beautiful
when she was angry!
"Alright, people, please come to order." The Captain's voice was
gentler than usual, and the softness in her face, as she found the
best places to scratch her companion, belied her usual business-like
persona.
"We seem to be dealing with a rather unusual phenomenon here this
morning. While the feline half of this invasion seems amiable
enough," she glanced at Chakotay and smothered a grin, "mice are
vermin. We'll need to deal with them before they cause more problems
than they already have. Mr. Tuvok, where have the mice and cats shown
up, so far? Can we assume this is a ship-wide problem?"
"Yes, Captain. I have teams checking the entire ship. The infestation
appears to have originated in Cargo Bay 2 and spread throughout the
ship."
Neelix spoke up, "Captain, my entire store of leola root was in Cargo
Bay 2 and can be considered a total loss!.."
Paris murmured, "Clearly, this invasion must be stopped before we
lose anything more."
The Captain hid a grin, as did several other people around the table.
Even Ensign Kim and Chakotay forgot their personal miseries in light
of this encouraging information.
"On twentieth-century Earth, rodent invasions were often controlled
with the use of mouse traps. They were simply a flat wooden plate
with a spring-controlled mechanism that decapitated or killed the
mouse when it stepped onto the plate to retrieve bait such as a piece
of cheese," Tom continued.
"Do we know these creatures are not sentient?" Chakotay asked.
"They do not appear to be, Commander," replied Tuvok. "As the Captain
has noted, the felines do have some characteristics that are pleasing
to humans." His eyebrow seemed to inch up his forehead as he
delivered this last statement.
"I have tested the corpses that have been found," contributed The
Doctor. "There is no evidence of disease that will seriously affect
the ship's crew. However, I recommend gassing Cargo Bay 2, as there
does seem to be an added infestation of fleas, a small insect known
to cause itching in both humans and felines on Earth."
Newly inspired, Harry resumed his scratching. It was going to be a
very long week.....
* * *
The soft snore of my captain resembles the purr of a well-fed and
contented cat. I lay her down against the pillows and slide down in
the bed beside her, ready for sleep myself.
Cat and Mouse Games
by Aspen Mountjoy
B'Elanna was NOT interested in dealing with a localized power outage
that required her to crawl through Jeffries tubes at 0700 hours. Even
Klingon knees didn't appreciate the punishment. Her headlamp sent
shadows scurrying to the far depths of the long tube she was
advancing through. This particular passage smelled somewhat musty,
she thought, and she kept imagining the skittering of small
creatures.
Harry Kim mumbled in his sleep and groggily stroked the purring
warmth against his chest.
* * *
I've watched her smile at some of my more outrageous descriptions,
but this final dry comment finally earns me a full-fledged grin.
Kathryn shifts herself so she is sitting up against the pillows, and
playfully slaps the air above my head.
As the Senior Officers trailed bedraggledly into the conference room,
the Captain entered carrying a loudly purring Calico. Her usually
loyal (and still Handsome) First Officer, nursing a hand still
bleeding from his confrontation with the pillow, gave the Captain a
wide berth and settled into a chair two places down from his usual
position at her side.
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