Socks. Shoes. Star Trek.

Guess which I don't own!


Janeway sighed as she watched the bulky form of her least favorite command officer waddle out of her ready room with the satisfying swish of the doors. Pinching the bridge of her thin nose, she leaned back and kicked her gleaming booted feet up on the surface of the desk. Only three more hours before she was off duty. Three more hours before she could slip into the confines of her quarters and positively molest her favorite sultry ex-Borg until the simulated sun came up. She smiled to herself and scanned Chakotay's status report.

Crap crap blah blah whine whine fighting da da da Neelix vs. Torres messhall more crap blah blah blah whine cry problems warp core malfunction.

"Same old crap," she grumbled.

She flopped forward and slammed her fists on the desk. Only five minutes had passed since Tubby's departure. How was she going to survive the next 175 minutes?

Smirking slightly, she reached up under her desk and retrieved a half consumed bottle of Whiskey from a secret compartment. She filled her half-empty coffee cup with it and returned it to its hiding place behind an old bottle of plasmatic hairspray. Sipping her coffee, she briefly contemplated reviving the most fabulous bun in the universe, before slipping into her favorite past time.

Bum Plundering Banana Fiend

Kiddie Fiddling Nut Nabber

Ass Nibbling Ball Bumper

Dong Diddling Dick Slobber

Chief Blue Balls Little Wang

Tubby Tubby Kankle Keiser

Her attention was drawn from her mental compositions of pet names for Chakotay as the doors swished open, allowing a curvaceous six foot hunk of Borg to enter.

"Seven! Just who I wanted to see," Janeway said, sitting up brightly.

Seven stood several feet in front of Janeway's desk, feet planted firmly on the floor in her signature stance.

"Captain," She acknowledged the other woman with an arch of her brow. "I have a proposition."

"Ah," Janeway grinned, standing up and moving in front of the other woman. "What kind of proposition?" she husked.

Seven clenched her jaw. Like clockwork the captain's eyes traveled slowly down her neck line, settling on the two magnificently prominent orbs jutting out from her chest, a stupid lidded look upon her face. Forcing a lungful of air through her nostrils, she reached under Janeway's chin with the tip of her index finger, forcing the other woman's overly smug gaze to meet her own.

"A proposition that will ultimately further the efficiency of your command," she said, a faint twitch playing at the corner of her lips.

"Indeed," Janeway slipped closer to the Borg, placing her hand's on the young woman's narrow hips. "And what exactly is this proposition? Is it, perhaps, stress relieving?"

Seven mentally rolled her eyes at Janeway's implications. The woman was insatiable. She wrapped her hands around Janeway's dainty wrists, pulling the other woman's hands off of her.

"Perhaps so in the long term," She smiled softly.

"Ahhh," Janeway tried in vain to remove her arms from the Borg's superior grasp, before simply swinging her arms back, effectively bringing Seven closer to her. "You know I hate to wait, darling."

Seven twitched and let go of the other woman, allowing herself to be pulled against the smaller form. She couldn't control the tremor as Janeway nuzzled her throat, her breath wet and warm and all too teasing. A faint moan slipped forth from her lips as the captain's tongue darted out, slick and searing against her skin, sending rapid shockwaves of electrical heat emanating through her body.

"Captain," Seven groaned.

"Mmm," Janeway smiled against her throat, "you know I love it when you call me that." Her hands roamed over the young officer's back, stopping to firmly squeeze the Borg's supple ass.

"N-no," Seven shivered, summoning all of her might to pull herself from Janeway's embrace. "No, Captain."

"What?" Janeway grasped Seven's hands again.

"My proposition," Seven said.

"Ugh," Janeway whined, "You were serious?"

"Yes, I was serious," Seven raised her implant adorned brow at Janeway.

"What is it? Can't it wait?" Janeway moved closer to Seven again, like a wolf pursuing its prey.

"No," Seven frowned, "it can't wait."

"Then tell me. Hurry," Janeway sighed dramatically and slouched.

"I wish you to wear a shock collar," Seven said seriously.

"What?" Janeway stood at attention, blinking stupidly at her counterpart.

Seven rolled her eyes as Janeway's eyes briefly flicked at her chest.

"You need to stop doing that," Seven warned

"Doing what?" Janeway said defensively.

"Looking at my chest!" Seven placed her hand on Janway's cheek as the older woman did it again.

"I don't do it THAT often," Janeway pulled Seven's wrist away.

"Yes," Seven said, "You do. You do it constantly."

"No," Janeway retaliated, "I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do!" Seven said exasperatedly, "You aren't even aware you're doing it."

"I'm not aware," Janeway gave her best defensive glare, "Because I'm not doing it!"

"This week alone you've done it 9,884 times and it's only Wednesday!" Seven said.

"I-," Janeway dropped off.

"Would you care for me to recite the exact time that each incident occurred?"

"No," Janeway sighed, "Where does a shock collar come into this?"

"Every time you glance, you will be shocked," Seven held back a grin, "Eventually, you will learn not to do it."

"Like a dog?"

"Yes, essentially."

"No," Janeway said, "No, absolutely not. How is that even supposed to improve my command?"

Seven's brow was in danger of disappearing into her hair line.

"Well," She began, "first of all you'll be able to focus on actually commanding, rather than my mammary glands."

"I do focus on my command!" Janeway said.

"Really," Seven said, "Let's consider the ratio of thought spent on my breasts to that of Voyager."

"Whatever," Janeway ran a hand through her hair, "I'm not doing it. Nope. No way."

Seven sighed.

"And anyways, why are you focusing on me?" the Captain paced slowly, "It's not like I'm the only one. You're tits are the focal point of 98 percent of the crew's day."

"Be that as it may," Seven replied, "The rest of the crew are not the ones solely responsible for returning Voyager home."

She stepped closer to Janeway, brushing her knuckles against the smaller woman's cheek. She used her other hand to hoist Janeway onto her desk, leaning forward and possessing the captain's lips with her own. She felt the other woman's muscles shudder deliciously beneath her hands, and she moaned softly into her mouth.

"Do it for me," Seven brushed her lips over Janeway's cheek, "Captain."

"God," Janeway whimpered, "You're so unfair."

Seven smiled softly, "I love you." She kissed Janeway again, nipping at her lower lip, elicting a soft squeal from her.

"Alright," Janeway succumbed, "For a week. That's it."

Seven made a brief sound of acknowledgement before devouring the other woman's lips completely.

THE NEXT MORNING

"Why the hell did I agree to this?!" Janeway asked herself as she fastened a slim black band around the base of her neck.

She glared briefly in the mirror before grabbing a thermos of coffee and exiting her quarters, running smack into her corpulent first officer.

"Kathryn," He smiled, an unpleasant gesture which skewed his plank-like face grotesquely.

"Chakotay," Kathryn mentally rolled her eyes and began to walk at an extremely quick pace in hopes of losing the tubby Indian.

Her gait proved futile as Chakotay managed to waddle along with her, beads of sticky sweat birthing from his pores.

"How is your morning?" He asked, huffing and puffing.

"Just great," Janeway mumbled unhappily.

They arrived at the turbolift, the doors opening cheerily to reveal a picturesque young Borg.

"Seven!" Janeway smiled, her radiance an incredible relief after Chakotay. "Good mo-AAAAAAAAAH!"

Janeway shrieked, jerked backwards by an invisible force as the collar attached to her throat sent great bolts of electricity coursing through her veins. She swore malevolently as her legs gave out, sending her rushing to the floor.

"Kathryn!" Chakotay bent his great mass over her, belching "Are you okay?"

"No I'm not okay!" She shouted, "Jesus Christ that HURTS!" She clutched Chakotay's meaty shoulder and hoisted herself up, glaring dubiously at the highly amused Seven for a moment before being wracked by another shock, which returned her to the ground in a fit of violent seizures.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHH!" She shrieked. At that moment the lift doors decided to slam shut on her torso. "Aah! Help me! FUCK!"

Chakotay and Seven wedged the doors out of Janeway's sides and brought the irate captain back to her feet.

"Are you injured?" Seven said, a glint of mild concern in her otherwise calm voice.

"Am I injured?" Janeway threw her arms up, "Am I injured? What the f-AAAAH!" She grasped at the wall, her leg jerking erratically.

"What's going on?" Chakotay scratched his head stupidly.

"SHUT UP!" Janeway grimaced and stood facing the wall.

"Simply avert your gaze from them and it won't happen." Seven said, placing a hand on her captain's back.

"I can't! That's like telling me to stop breathing." Janeway glared at the reflective wall in front of her a moment, before shrieking again.

"Even if you don't look at them directly," Seven said, "It still works."

Kathryn was too caught up in a wave of seizures to reply.

She sat huddled at the base of the wall, seething, her eyes snapped shut. This is going to be a fun week.