DISCLAIMER: Star Trek: Voyager and all its characters belong to Paramount Pictures; no infringement of copyright is intended. The story however belongs to me.

As always, I yell a heartfelt "Thank you!" to my trusted beta Eydie Munroe for her quick and thorough work. All remaining mistakes are my own.

Written April 2016 for VAMB's Secret Drabble Exchange 2016, which allowed for a maximum of 1100 words. This story is for Joywriter, who provided the first line and choice of characters.


A Pirate's Booty
by Hester (hester4418)

She knew me and her sister had something going on. I saw it in her eyes when we shook hands at Voyager's homecoming party. There's no hiding anything from a Janeway.

Introducing herself as Phoebe, she asked after my boys, who'd just rejoined my ex-wife and her new husband to find some ice cream. Satisfied with my recital of names and ages, her next words were more blunt. "So you're one of the Maquis Kathryn was sent after. Looks like she captured you alright." Her smirk left no doubt as to her meaning.

"One could argue that the capture was mutual," I ventured, purposely baiting her.

Phoebe gave me an appraising look and laughed. "If you want to delude yourself, fine by me. But no Janeway has ever been mistaken for prey. We're a hunting species."

I could have told her about the Hirogen, but I couldn't argue a certain truth to Phoebe's claim. Kathryn Janeway never surrendered. I think that was one of the reasons why being brainwashed on Quarra had had such a profound influence on her.

Everyone had been subdued at Neelix' 'Welcome Home' party, still struggling with separating false memories from the real ones and coming to terms with how we'd been manipulated. The captain's relationship with Jaffen being common knowledge, many of us had commiserated with similar stories. More than a few sorrows had been drowned in pitchers of ale that night.

In the weeks following our departure, Janeway had begun to change. The differences had been subtle at first, but it didn't take us long to notice. More and more often, she'd join groups for off-duty activities, ranging from the ship-wide poker tournament or a deep-sea diving excursion to the book club. We'd all enjoyed getting to know her better.

Some of the male crew became bold enough to try flirting with her, and to everyone's surprise, she'd responded. Her subtle signals had indicated a newly-realized need for companionship, and there were those who would've been only too happy to oblige her in any way she desired.

Then Chell had started pursuing her. Nobody knew how he managed it, but he'd convinced her to perform a scene from a well-known Bolian play with him on talent night. It was a little like Romeo and Juliet, but with less pathos and more spunk. The audience had howled with laughter, and Chell had been beaming with pride. After they'd bowed to us, he'd turned and hugged her hard, visibly catching her by surprise. Later, when drinks had been served and the performers mingled with their audience, he'd stuck to her side, a beatific smile on his face. I'll admit to feeling jealous of his mettle, but that feeling turned to sympathy when, at the end of the evening, I accidentally overheard her taking him aside and gently explaining that although she valued his company and that she'd had a good time preparing the performance, he shouldn't harbor any hopes of seeing her socially. Poor Chell deflated like a punctured balloon.

I thought she'd handled the situation well, and with a minimum of ridicule for our resident Bolian. In any case he was back to his cheerful self the next day, chatting up Sue Nicoletti at breakfast.

Several of my friends had been waiting for Chakotay to make a move on the captain in reaction to her new lighthearted attitude. Only I, as his erstwhile wingman and confidant of many a sleepless night, knew that the feelings he'd once worn on his sleeve had mellowed over time, morphing into a friendship more solid than any lovers' bond. For his romantic pursuits, he was setting his sights elsewhere now.

More and more often, I'd found myself assigned to bridge duty those days, filling in for Tuvok at tactical and occasionally manning the conn. I preferred tactical for the simple reason that the post afforded a view of the whole bridge − and of the captain. Watching her became my new favorite pastime, but it wasn't until B'Elanna jokingly accused me of having a crush on Janeway that I'd realized the truth behind the joke.

About that time, Neelix had suggested having a theme party. Tom and Harry programmed a pirate hideout complete with chests of gold and rubies, and I donned an eye patch to go with my old Maquis leathers.

Janeway had chosen a pair of over knee black boots, which tantalizingly peeked through the slit in her long red skirt. A matching top, tightly laced, completed the roguish outfit. She'd been dangerously beautiful to behold, a blazing ember ready to flare. All through the night, she was constantly in motion. I happened to be standing close when Chakotay refused another dance.

"Sorry, Kathryn, I'm beat," he panted, wiping sweat from his brow. Grabbing my arm, he pushed me in her direction. "But Mike here still looks pretty fresh. Maybe he can wear you out."

She eyed me up and down, laughter dancing in her eyes. "Are you up to the task, Mr. Ayala?"

Hiding a smirk, I managed a straight-faced answer. "I believe I am, Captain."

That was the last time I called her 'Captain' off-duty.

I guess Phoebe's right after all. I've been captured hook, line and sinker. Our dancing that night was wild and uninhibited, just like everybody else's. When we stopped for a break and a drink at the bar, breathless and flushed, I noticed that her makeup had become smudged. Feeling bold, I reached over and gently rubbed away the black streak. Her eyes were like glittering pools of sapphire flames threatening to engulf me, but I felt no fear.

"Thank you, Mike," she'd breathed, moistening her lips.

"You're welcome, Kathryn," I'd replied with a wink before downing the remains of my drink.

Less than half an hour later, she had me pinned on my back in her starlit bedroom, ripping at the fastenings of my vest as we raced to free each other of our outfits. This was a different kind of dance, but it was no less wild than our turns on the pirate dance floor earlier.

My thoughts abruptly returned to the homecoming party when a slender arm looped itself through mine and Kathryn smiled up at me. "I see you found my sister."

"On the contrary," I replied. "She hunted me down."

She shrugged, smiling in that lopsided way of hers. "She's a Janeway. It's in our genes."

Too true.

I may have fallen prey to her, but I've been rewarded many times over. And sometimes I still don the eye patch, turn the tables, and capture her anew.

-==/ The End. \==-