Title: Katie in Beige 
Author: Cait N. 
Contact: caitn at mindspring dot com 
Series: VOY 
Codes: J/C
Rating: PG, for sexual innuendo
Archive: Sure, what the heck!
Feedback: Oh, please, please, please, puhhhhleeeze!

Disclaimer: Paramount owns the characters, I just take 'em
out for a spin every once in a while. And besides, with their
new fascination for C/7 (gag! ack!), they wouldn't touch
this with a ten foot pole.

Summary: While attending a reception, Janeway falls prey
to the evil green monster.

Beta: Thanks to Mariel, who keeps me in line and lets me know
when something does (or doesn't) work.  Also thanks to
Cheile and Robin for helping me smooth out the rough spots on
this one. Any mistakes are mine, not theirs.

***

"Katie in Beige" 
copyright May 2001 by Cait N.


"Whoa!" Tom Paris exclaimed under his breath.  His wife,
B'Elanna, turned to see what had claimed his attention.

"Well, that's certainly a change from her usual Starfleet
drab," she said dryly.

The object of their attention, Captain Kathryn Janeway,
had entered the mess hall. Made over into a reception area,
the room was already full with off-duty crewman and honored
dignitaries. The K'ndarii ambassador had stopped Kathryn
near the doorway, where they were no doubt exchanging
pleasantries. 

It was not the captain herself who had garnered such a
response from Tom, but rather her attire.  She was dressed
in a floor length beige sheath. Her arms were bare, as was
most of her back, and a wide row of beige-colored sequins
adorned the hem. The dress seemed to caress the captain's
curves rather than hug them, only adding to the sexy appeal
of the dress . . . and the wearer.  It was definitely *not*
something they'd ever seen her wear before.

Tom continued to stare until a well-placed elbow in his
side convinced him it would be wise to pay more attention
to his wife than his captain.

"Why do you think the K'ndarii insisted on this
reception?" he speculated.

"It's probably written somewhere in their `codes'," Harry
Kim answered as he joined them.  "I heard that their laws
number over fourteen thousand.  And that's not counting the
list of their customs."  

"Whatever the reason for this get together, I'm just glad
it includes dancing for once, instead of just standing
around stuffing our faces with some god-awful alien food,
and hashing over the same old stale gossip."  B'Elanna took
Tom's hand and led him toward the makeshift dance floor in
one corner of the room.  A trio of K'ndarii musicians were
playing nearby, a tune that was slow and sensuous.

The gentle swell of B'Elanna's abdomen pressing lightly
against him, Tom started moving slowly to the music,
indulging in his wife's wish to dance.  He'd much rather be
trying out the new addition to his Captain Proton program,
but he'd never let her know that.

Things were running smoothly - more crewman and K'ndarii
joined in the dancing and the buffet table was a success
(thanks to the captain forbidding Neelix to even think of
using Leola root in any of the dishes).  Tom was beginning
to actually enjoy himself.

He was out for another turn on the dance floor, when his
eyes widened. "Houston, we have a problem," he muttered.

"What?" B'Elanna asked, not getting the reference right
away.

He nodded to a corner of the dance floor where Chakotay
had been talking to a couple of the former Maquis crewmen
earlier. Now he stood alone, save one person - Jenny
Delaney, to be exact.

"Whoa!" B'Elanna echoed her husband's words of earlier.
"Someone's dressed for sex tonight."  She was commenting on
the fire engine red slip dress that fit Jenny like a second
skin. "Well, I won't deny that she's dressed like a two-bit
hooker, but where's the problem?"

"To put it bluntly, Jenny's recently started becoming
quite the female gigolo."

"Well, I knew she liked male company from things you've
told me, but I didn't realize she liked _that_ much company."

"The rumor among the guys is that `the girl gets around',"
Tom said, craning his neck as they danced so he could keep
an eye on the First Officer and the Delaney twin.  "Not
that she's a slut. She doesn't choose that often, but when
she does, she's never been told `no.' And tonight she's set
her eyes on Chakotay."

"They're two consenting adults, Tom, I still don't see a
problem." 

"Then you haven't seen our captain in the last five
minutes," Tom said. He twirled B'Elanna so that their
positions were reversed.

"Oh," she said, finally understanding what Tom was getting
at. Janeway was standing on the opposite side of the room
from Chakotay but she had an unobstructed view of him.  And
if looks could kill, Chakotay would be cold, and six feet
under by now.

B'Elanna looked back toward Chakotay and Jenny.  Jenny had
coaxed him out onto the dance floor and was using the
dancing as an excuse to rub her body suggestively against
him. Every crack and crevice on her body was delineated by
the skimpy dress. Chakotay seemed to be amused and possibly
flattered rather than offended.

Tom was watching Janeway.  The anger in her blue-gray eyes
darkened them to a stormy hue.  She squared her shoulders
and headed across the room . .. straight for Chakotay and
Jenny.

"Oh oh," Tom said. "Chakotay's either going to get flayed
or laid."

B'Elanna stepped on his foot.

"Hey! You don't have to work with them as closely as I do.
Sometimes the sexual tension between them is so thick you
can cut it with knife.  It's past time they acknowledged
it."  He maneuvered them as close to Chakotay's position as
he could without being too obvious about it.  He wanted a
front row seat on the action.

Janeway reached Jenny and Chakotay, and tapped Jenny on
the shoulder. "I'm cutting in," she said, in a voice
usually reserved for the bridge. Jenny looked indignant. 
She looked at Chakotay for support, but he just smiled and
shrugged.  "Well!" she huffed, turning and making for the
drink table.

"Captain," Chakotay said, clearing not understanding the
position he was in.

Janeway stepped in close, her beige dress showing in stark
relief against Chakotay's black turtleneck and matching
trousers. "Chakotay," she said, "please tell me you weren't
seriously considering sleeping with Jenny Delaney."

"Sleeping with Jenny?  She just asked me to dance."  He
was clearly confused.  

Tom wondered how Chakotay could have missed all the
signals that Jenny had been sending out.  Even he'd seen
them, and he was a happily married man.

"Chakotay," the captain was continuing, "if you have
certain -" She trailed off as she realized that they were
starting to draw a fair amount of attention.  She
straightened up.  "Commander, follow me." She pivoted on a
heel and headed out the door. A bemused expression on his
face, Chakotay followed.

"Damn," Tom muttered.  "Just as it was about to get good."
He stopped dancing and tugged on B'Elanna's hand.  "Come
on, you need some fresh air."

"Huh?" 

They were out in the corridor now and Tom looked around,
trying to figure out where the captain and first officer
might have gone. Her quarters? The ready room? He headed
toward the captain's quarters, hand clasped with B'Elanna's.

"I'm gonna get you," she said, her low voice laced with
the promise of dire consequences.

"For what?" he whispered back.

"For dragging me along on this stupid spying -"

"Shhhhh," he warned, slowing down and pressing his back
against the wall.  "I think I hear them."

He crept along, B'Elanna letting out an exasperated sigh
behind him.

Tom peeked around a corner, then ducked back quickly. He
put his finger to his lips just to make sure B'Elanna would
stay quiet. The last thing he wanted was to be caught
playing "Peeping Tom."

"Kathryn," Chakotay was saying,  "I still don't understand
what this is all about.  Jenny asked me to dance -- I was
dancing. End of story."

"Chakotay, have I imagined the sexual tension between us
all these years?  Tell me that if a cure hadn't been found
five years ago, and we were still on that planet - you, me,
the bathtub - you wouldn't have given in to the feelings
inside of you.  Tell me."

"Why this change? Why now?"  He was struggling to
understand.

Janeway ran a hand through her hair.  "I'm not blind,
Chakotay, though some of my crew might think so.  I see the
way Seven has been looking and acting toward you.  I didn't
want to admit it, not even to myself, but it made me so
jealous sometimes I couldn't see straight. Having to watch
you with her, and not being able to let myself say anything
has been torture. And then tonight, watching Jenny rub
herself all over you.  I just . . ." She gave a rueful
smile.  "The green eyed monster had had enough, I guess."

Chakotay's face softened, but his eyes were still guarded.
After so long, it was almost too much to hope for, that she
would finally give in to the feelings he knew she had for
him. "Okay, Kathryn, what do you want me to tell you?  That
I love you?  That I've loved you from almost the first
moment I put that Starfleet uniform back on and sat by your
side. That it killed me inside to think of you and Mark
together. Tell you that I fall asleep with your name on my
lips, and I wake up in the morning touching the empty space
beside me, hoping that one day you'll fill that emptiness. 
Tell you that the moment you walked into the room tonight
you took my breath away.  That beige dress practically begs
my fingers to peel it slowly off you, until all that
caresses your skin is my breath.  Is that what you want to
hear?"

Her eyes glistened with tears.  "Have I been that stupid,
Chakotay? That stubborn in thinking that all there was for
me was this ship, getting this crew home, and to indulge in
my feelings for you would be taking away from my
responsibilities to Starfleet."

Chakotay chuckled, knowing that she really didn't expect
an answer.  He brushed the back of his hand against her
cheek.   "I remember you telling me one time that if you
ever had any questions about `mating behavior' you'd know
who to ask.  Are you finally asking?"  The last was
whispered - a cross between a question and a plea.

"Chakotay," Kathryn said, leaning her body against him
suggestively. She brushed her fingers against his lips.
"Just say `yes'."

"Yes!" Paris exclaimed in a loud whisper, punching the air
near his head.  B'Elanna quickly clasped a hand over his
mouth, and pulled him behind her, making a beeline for the
mess hall.

Kathryn and Chakotay, engaged in a long-anticipated kiss,
were oblivious to everything but each other.


THE END

