Paramount owns all things Star Trek Voyager. I don't. Only borrowing them. Etc. Etc. Etc.
A short, silly moment between Kathryn and Chakotay. Entered in Picnic Prose 2004.


by Kat Lady

Chakotay and Kathryn were standing in a cave.

Chakotay called over to Kathryn.

"Kathryn, come over here quickly and look at this." She nodded towards him but continued to pack away their gear. He called again. "Kathryn, hurry up."

She gave a heavy sigh as she came over to him. "What is it? I'm trying to sort through our equipment."

He pointed in front of them. "Look at that stalactite there. See the tiny lizard like creature inside it?"

Kathryn squinted and leaned forward. "That yellow piece there?"

Chakotay nodded. "It's probably been in there for thousands of years. Maybe longer. That was resin or tree sap and the creature was caught in it. It's amber now."

Kathryn continued to stare at it.

Chakotay nodded and then moved away, pulling her with him. "Kathryn, come on. We have to go."

Kathryn shook him off. "No, wait. It's so tiny. This is fascinating…"

Chakotay kept pulling her. "Yes, it is. That's why I showed it to you but we have to leave now. We have to hurry."

Kathryn turned to look at him, her irritation showing. "What's the big rush?"

Chakotay shook his head in exasperation. "Look…it's very simple. The writer of this story has a deadline. She's one of those JC lot. She has half a page and twenty minutes to get this tale finished. In that time, I have to get you back to the ship, prepare a romantic dinner for you and woo you. I then have to declare my love for you, which you have to reciprocate, telling me that 'protocols be damned'. We also have to get the ship home, fighting many hostile aliens on the way, get through debriefings, see our crew settled and then get married, have two perfect kids and live happily ever after."

Kathryn sighed and shook her head. "Well, why didn't you just say so?"

Chakotay laughed and slipped an arm around her shoulder. "Look, if it helps, we can call our first daughter Amber in memory of this moment. The writer needs a title for the story and that will help her."

Kathryn smiled at that. "That sounds OK." She sighed. "God, Chakotay, the things these writers put us through."