Disclaimer: the characters are obviously not mine.
AN: Today is northernexposure's birthday, and I would love to make her smile on her special day... But, since she is trying hard to kick the escapist JC habit, any supportive friend would obviously help her in her endeavour, rather than write more JC stories dedicated to her, deviously undermining her attempts to quit. So - this isn't for northenexposure and even if it was (which it like so isn't) J and C aren't in it much at all;)
Massive Thank You to Photogirl1890 for the beta read and for supplying the idea for this story when I begged her for inspiration. When she suggested it, I wasn't 100% sure she was being serious or that she thought I'd actually write it - but I thought it was a totally trek idea. It's done - so here's the whole thing.
This starts immediately after Janeway says, 'Two to beam up', not far from the end of 'Resolutions'
Chapter one
Voyager had just arrived back in orbit of the planet where they had been forced to leave Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay, when B'Elanna Torres's combadge chirped.
"Hogan to Torres."
B'Elanna could hear loud cursing in the background of her friend's call, but she couldn't quite place the voice. "Torres here."
"I need you in transporter room one, now! And bring Harry Kim. Fast!"
"What is it?"
"Just…" more swearing, as well as a strangled yelp accompanied Hogan's plea this time. "Just get here fast. OK?"
"All right. Keep your hair on. I'm on my way."
On her way to the transporter room, B'Elanna almost ran into Harry as she rounded a corner at speed.
"Any idea why he called us?" she asked Kim.
"We just heard from Captain Janeway. She gave the order to beam them up. Maybe they need help carrying something they've brought back from the planet."
B'Elanna frowned.
"I remember you said Chakotay likes to carve things out of natural materials," Harry went on. "They've been down there nearly three months – maybe he made something pretty big."
B'Elanna remained sceptical. "You don't need the chief engineer and the operations officer for that."
"True. But maybe you're the first person Chakotay wanted to see," Kim suggested encouragingly.
"And what, Janeway's been missing you, Starfleet?" she countered.
Harry pursed his lips in response as they entered the transporter room and further speculation became redundant.
B'Elanna gasped as she took in the impossibility that stood on the transporter pad and Harry Kim swore. Harry. Swore.
"Kahless in stockings! Hogan, what did you do?" B'Elanna exclaimed.
Hogan, his face as white as a sheet and his hands trembling in mid-air over the transporter controls, appeared to have lost the power of speech.
"Again? Seriously?" B'Elanna queried in disbelief.
Harry joined the unfortunate Hogan in staring, open-mouthed at the apparition before them.
The tall redhead on the transporter pad was in the process of pulling off the tattered remains of a uniform jacket. Once the worst of it had fallen onto the pad, honey coloured skin was clearly visible where a pair of broad shoulders had caused the seams of the turtleneck underneath to split. What remained of the turtleneck was stretched taut across the outline of the surprisingly noticeable breasts that were just barely contained within what was left of the undergarment. Something about this person's posture seemed to push their breasts up and forwards.
Then the mesmerising being began turning over their large, lightly tanned hands and examining their long fingers and immaculately manicured fingernails.
A moment later, the apparition looked up to take in Harry and B'Elanna.
"Get him away from that console, now, B'Elanna," the apparition ordered, pointing towards Hogan.
"Right… um… Right," B'Elanna managed eventually.
Pushing the mass of Jell-O that was Hogan out of the way, her stalling brain tried to make sense of the astonishing new reality standing before her.
Immediately, the figure began firing out orders, while shaking each foot in turn and leaving behind the remains of a pair of ripped standard issue women's boots and some thin material – presumably socks.
"B'Elanna, take all the transporters off-line immediately and find out what went wrong. Harry, I need you to access the program the Doctor devised to separate Tuvix."
A flash of crimson toenail polish caught B'Elanna's eye as she took in the large bare feet descending the steps from the transporter pad.
The engineer's gaze moved up to see the tatters of what must have been Janeway's uniform pants. Large strips of material hung down in shreds from the waistband, which was now stretched to its limits. B'Elanna dreaded to think what the back must look like. The uniform pants were already tight across the butt on most people – before they'd swallowed a colleague whole, that was.
Through the large gaps between the remaining strips of black material, a pair of long, tanned, muscular legs were clearly visible. Legs with surprisingly shapely, hairless calves. The front of the pants had ripped wide open, but, mercifully, Janeway must have been wearing panties made of a fabric with plenty of give in it, because they hadn't split. They were now stretched over a sizeable bulge. This seemed to confirm without much room for doubt - if anyone present hadn't already worked it out - that the figure standing before them was the result of another Tuvix-style transporter accident, this time involving a fusing together of the Captain and her first officer.
Harry was still standing next to the hapless Hogan, mirroring his posture, gawping dumbstruck. B'Elanna wasn't surprised. The vision before them was enough to reduce even the most seasoned Starfleet officer to a pool of plasma.
It was impossible to say immediately if there was more of Janeway or of Chakotay in the amalgamation before them, but it was also impossible not to stare like a fool, trying to work it out.
The new person was tall, but noticeably slimmer than Chakotay, as the torso tapered dramatically from the undeniably broad shoulders down into a trim waist, which then curved out to form slim but shapely hips.
B'Elanna's gaze moved up to take in the honeyed complexion and the facial features. Chakotay's tattoo was still there, although the lines were paler, but the auburn hair was all Janeway – most of it still secured in a thick braid. The delicate ears, the shape of the eyes, the curve of the cheeks and the chin were clearly courtesy of the Captain, but the jawline, the slight kink in the nose and that mouth? Unmistakably Chakotay. The fuller lips still somehow managed to carry off Janeway's trademark red lipstick, and as B'Elanna watched, they began issuing orders again.
"The program. Now, Harry!"
As if the vision before them wasn't already enough to stop traffic, the immobilisation of the three young officers was compounded by the absolutely mesmerising low voice that came out of the succulent red mouth. Forthright and commanding, lower in pitch than pure Janeway, resounding and melodious, with only the occasional gravely rasp, it was also strikingly seductive. It was a voice that demanded attention, and got it, instantly.
B'Elanna tried to force herself to focus, since she had yet to begin taking the transporters off-line. Harry hadn't lifted a finger towards the control panel yet either.
"Lieutenant Torres, Ensign Kim! Do I need to remind you I'm still your commanding officer?" the apparition demanded, clearly irritated by their inaction.
"Sorry, I.. um..." Harry floundered. "I… I can't access that program- Not here. You'll need to be in sickbay."
"Fine," the new arrival harrumphed, a long elegant finger and thumb coming up to pinch the bridge of the strong nose. "You'd better tell Tuvok to join us there."
B'Elanna caught Harry's eye for the first time since they'd entered the room, and his mouth moved, but no sounds came out.
"I'll need you to run the separation program, B'Elanna," the alluring voice went on. "I'm not listening to the Doctor go through his objections to performing the procedure again. Not while I'm forced to stand there looking like... this." A sweeping, yet graceful hand-gesture accompanied the remark.
Finding her voice again, B'Elanna nodded. "Right." Immediately, she contacted the bridge to request Tuvok meet them in sickbay.
"This situation can't be allowed to continue any longer than is absolutely necessary," their new leader declared as soon as B'Elanna had closed the channel. "Let's go."
Forcing her gaze not to stray from her new commanding officer's face, the young engineer spoke up. "It's clear we can't risk a site-to-site, but are you sure you want to walk there? Like that?"
B'Elanna held the gaze of her interlocutor and found herself fixed by the searchlight-strength glare of a pair of truly striking eyes - deep blue, with streaks of chestnut that radiated out from the centre of each iris like bolts of lightning. Entranced by these bewitchingly beautiful eyes, B'Elanna momentarily forgot what she was supposed to be doing.
Luckily, Harry finally found his voice. "Maybe you could try a larger uniform?" he suggested tentatively.
Looking down, the owner of the hypnotic eyes seemed to become aware for the first time of the demands of modesty. "Fine. Harry, replicate me one now. Better make it an extra large."
Harry seemed to have recovered enough to make himself properly useful and moved to the replicator to pull up the uniform specs.
As B'Elanna watched, the new arrival shoved a hand rather indelicately up under the remnants of the turtleneck and grappled with something. After some hasty fumbling, the hand reappeared with scraps of what must have once been Janeway's bra. As the scraps were discarded onto the floor, B'Elanna found it impossible to keep her eyes from drifting down to take in the newly visible pert nipples, straining against the stretched grey fabric of the turtleneck.
"This should be a better fit," Harry remarked with nervous cheerfulness as he handed over the newly replicated uniform.
After shouldering into the jacket, the new arrival ripped off the over-stretched waistband of the old pants with one forceful yank and tossed it aside, the remaining tatters of Janeway's uniform trailing with it like macabre black bunting. Then the figure bent to pull on the new larger pants while the three young officers completely failed not to stare openly.
Once dressed, the new person before them stood tall and tugged on each cuff in turn, trying to adjust how the jacket sat over their broad shoulders.
"Right. That'll do."
The trio opposite recovered themselves enough to finally stop gawping and descend from behind the control panel.
"Let's go," their new leader ordered, the bar of command red on the uniform picking out quite nicely the crimson of the toenail polish as bare feet led the way out into the corridor.