Disclaimer: ST: VOY needs someone to take it away from TPTB. Sadly, that won't be me since I don't own any of it.
Dedication: For SV and Coco. Yes, again. Let's hope this one's better.
Volatile
By mistress amethyst une
Part 1: Ambizine Coffee
On the bridge, the captain wheezed and coughed. Once in awhile, she'd attempt to bark out an order, and the unfortunate crewman she was speaking to would do his best to follow the almost whispered command. She did her best to stand but it was apparent that she was having difficulties getting to her feet, let alone maintaining the position on her high-heeled boots. When she finally did manage to get out of her seat, she nearly toppled to the floor. Chakotay immediately rose to catch her. Being so close to her, he clearly heard the crackly rasp that had once been her voice cursing the inertial dampeners. He shook his head. She wasn't even going to admit to being ill.
Depositing her back into her command chair, he could feel her glare on him. They definitely needed to talk later.
Without further mishap, the shift ended. Kathryn remained seated in her command chair. She would sooner take an extra shift than admit that her head was spinning, and that she was almost too weak to get on her feet. Chakotay held his hand out to her, making it look like a friendly gesture rather than what it really was: an act of pity. If anyone knew how bad her condition was, it was most probably Chakotay. Yes, the same Chakotay who clucked like a mother hen while she went about her ready room like a chicken with its head cut off, who scolded her about caffeine intake even when she was on her first cup of the day, who looked at her with disapproval whenever he caught her in the Mess Hall at 0300 hours drowning herself in reports. The very same man who was now looking at her with immense...disapproval was definitely an understatement for that expression.
She took his hand, hoping this small act of surrender would help her avoid a scolding. She wasn't sick. She just felt a bit weak. That was it. Lethargy wasn't unusual in their profession. So what if she'd lost her voice? It was sure to come back soon enough. Her chest ached a bit with each little cough but it was nothing really. Oh sure, she'd spent most of the shift being disgusted with herself for swallowing her own phlegm. What could she do? It would be unbecoming to spit on the bridge. And she couldn't exactly excuse herself with her legs suddenly acting like two useless tentacles with no water to propel them...
"Ready room," she rasped, as she got up with his help. She put immense effort in focusing her strength on her legs, doing her best not to use him as a crutch even as she found her arm in his. To an onlooker, it would have looked like the captain was really cozying up to her first officer. In reality, she was trying her best not to fall on him as they walked.
The ready room doors hissed open. She pointed to her replicator. Upon reaching it, she tried to order coffee and cordrazine. Chakotay was amused to note that it wouldn't take her voice commands. Her voice was so unintelligible that even the computer's universal translator couldn't make heads or tails of it. Despite her mouthed protests, he deposited her on the couch. Even if he knew the coffee would be bad for her, he replicated her a cup and took it out of his own alloted rations. Decaffeinated, of course. He was going to indulge her vice but not to her own detriment. He didn't replicate her any cordrazine. What was she thinking? Twenty milligrams of cordrazine was enough to revive the dead. And in tandem with the caffeine fix she had intended to gulp down...she wasn't thinking clearly, that was for sure. He didn't turn from the replicator even as the coffee shimmered into existence. She would hate him for this.
"Ten milligrams of ambizine, diluted," he whispered.
The tiny sealed test tube materialized next to the coffee. He immediately opened it and dumped the contents into the hot black beverage. She would sleep for a good long time, and he was beaming her to Sickbay while she was incapacitated. She could throw him in the brig for this later. He knew this needed to be done. If he didn't intercede now, he'd regret it. The cordrazine she'd just tried to replicate was enough of a warning bell.
He pocketed the empty test tube and approached her with the coffee. He felt strange drugging her like this but it was essential to her well-being. She looked at him and smiled weakly, taking the mug from him. So trusting...
"Just drink it, Kathryn," he mentally urged. "Drink before I change my mind and knock it out of your hands."
She drank deeply. The effect of the ambizine was immediate. Her eyes snapped shut and the mug slipped from her hands, staining her uniform with the remaining coffee as it hit the carpeted floor. She didn't even respond to the hot liquid hitting her. He ordered a site-to-site transport to Sickbay. She was going to hate him. Really hate him...
Yes, I'm aware this wasn't the plot bunny we discussed SV. Who knows? Might drift to that soon enough. My mind loves to change... :)
