Priorities

Summary: In which Janeway goes to great lengths for a decent cup of coffee, and Chakotay gets dragged along for the ride.

Disclaimer: The good people at Paramount own all the characters appearing within this piece. The author of this silly little piece owns approximately nothing.

It was a beautiful, sunshiney day in the capital city of the southern province of Planet of the Week.

More than one crewmember of the Federation starship Voyager had shaken their heads and noted that this was quite possibly the strangest name they'd seen on a planet since they'd ended up on that Unexpected and Deeply Horrifying Plot Twist place not too long ago, but there was certainly nothing wrong with the weather patterns. Planet of the Week, it had been previously determined through extensive meteorological scanning and was now being determined through extensive sunbathing, boasted a warm, sunny climate.

It was a shame, Chakotay thought wistfully, that instead of enjoying the rare opportunity for real sunshine in some appropriately relaxing manner, he had spent the vast majority of the day in this austere, cavernous room, waiting for the city officials to tire of explaining in minute detail the entire forty thousand year history of their race up to this point, so that something approaching a trade negotiation could get underway.

At first, it had been reasonably entertaining, watching his captain trying desperately to keep a lid on any outward sign of impatience. The tapping foot, twitching eye, and periodic fidgeting were at least making the time pass, and the vein protruding from her forehead was kind of adorable.

That had been the first three hours.

After that, he found himself possessed of a strong desire to grab the two nearest heads and knock them together until he was allowed to leave.

From the faint but definite sound of grinding teeth, he wasn't alone in his head-knocking urges. Soon after, he carefully repositioned his chair to put him at least three heads away from her.

However, even the longest of days must eventually come to a close, and so too did this one. Finally, finally, Kathryn managed to casually slip in the idea of organizing a trade, and things had progressed shockingly quickly after that.

And not a moment too soon, if the wisps of smoke curling up from her ears were any indication.

"That was fun, wasn't it?" he said conversationally once they were a safe distance from their gracious hosts.

Her reply, a combination between a groan and a growl, was cut off abruptly when she stopped short with a start, as though jolted by an electric current.

"Uh…" he began, rather bewildered, as she took off in the direction of two locals carrying massive cups.

"Excuse me," she called, verging on desperate. "Can you tell me where they sell that beverage?"

The two women recovered quickly from their bemusement and indicated the direction, and with a beaming smile of thanks, Kathryn scurried back to his side.

"We have to go get some."

He blinked.

"Uh…"

"The shop is about three blocks from here; we can get some coffee and still have at least a couple of hours to see the sights."

He frowned. "Coffee? They have coffee here?"

"Well, it's not coffee exactly," she admitted with an absent wave. "It's like espresso, only stronger, and you saw the size of those cups – they're bigger than my head. Come on, let's go."

With a heavy sigh, he trudged after her.

Of course, the day needn't have been a complete write-off – they could well have acquired their lovely beverages and spent the rest of the day half-naked and semi-comatose in the sun somewhere.

However, the presence of his current companion, in addition to making the half-naked bit all the more appealing and most likely explaining why he had continued to stick with this doomed venture instead of leaving her to it and striking out on his own, automatically excluded the possibility of anything being simple, or easy, or convenient, or even not potentially fatal about 90% of the time.

They had, therefore, arrived at the location that the soon-to-be-maimed local had specified, only to find the building abandoned, the legendary vendor of coffee or things very much like it completely sold out.

(This had given Chakotay a moment of pause, and he had been a second away from inquiring as to whether Kathryn had already been here today. She had, after all, been behind many a coffee shortage in her day. Just getting her caffeinated enough to start the day could probably put a family of ten through college. It was enough to make a man's heart swell with pride.)

Still, if he'd had even a little backbone, or not been so preoccupied with the various other parts that she could cause to swell with next to no effort, they could have moved on to have a nice day. He could have consoled her, assuring her that they'd probably come across another one in the course of doing something that two normal people might actually do while on holiday.

Unfortunately, Kathryn had chosen that moment to prove once again that while he might venture a few centimeters away on occasion, he was still more or less wrapped around her little finger. It had only taken one look at her crestfallen expression, complete with huge wobbly eyes and trembling lip before, without any idea of how it had happened, he found himself inquiring instead where they might find another coffee-or-something-similar shop.

The nearest shop, it had transpired, was only a block away, but Kathryn had taken over the conversation at that point, and asked how the coffee-esque substance at that place actually was. The man behind the counter (who Chakotay was rapidly acquiring a strong desire to punch) had made a Planet of the Week equivalent of a grimace before confessing that it was okay, but if they were after really GOOD coffee-esque substance, there was really nowhere like his second-favourite establishment – conveniently located clear across town from their current position.

It was another one of those moments when, looking back on the day, he could have gotten things back on track by telling his captain firmly that they'd spent enough time on this already, and that decent coffee-esque substance was better than no coffee-esque substance, although he'd certainly let her choose which of those two options she'd prefer.

Instead, he'd taken one look at her wide, starry eyes and found himself asking for the fastest route there.

Yes, he was relatively certain that this wasn't healthy.

And so, close to two hours and a grueling mass transit ride later, they had found themselves staring, in varying degrees of disappointment and annoyance, at the sign proclaiming that the location was "Now under new management", and had been converted into a flower shop.

"Why doesn't anyone in this damn city know when their favourite coffee shops shut down?" Kathryn had demanded of the universe at large, wandering off in search of a directory before he could answer on behalf of the universe that maybe not everyone kept in closer contact with their baristas than their families, and she should consider the possibility that perhaps she was the oddity in this equation.

Luckily, the urge to say this out loud had passed by the time she returned, and so when she produced from seemingly nowhere a list of five more places to try, he was able to smile and nod without voicing any thoughts that might have prematurely ended his life.

The first place on her list turned out to be closed that day; the second and third similarly.

The fourth…well, to call the stuff they had been served a beverage would have been doing it a great kindness. Kathryn had muttered something about how she'd be better off swilling raw sewage. When he had voiced his disbelief that this place actually had customers recommending it, the young man behind the counter had asked for the description of the woman to recommend it, and had exclaimed joyfully,

"Oh, that's our owner!"

It was telling, Chakotay and Kathryn had decided as they trudged back into the baking sun, that even the owner couldn't in good conscience put the place in her own Top Three.

And so it was that with increasing desperation (to get some damn coffee-esque substance in Kathryn's case, and to see the end of this day-long coffee-esque substance break in Chakotay's) that they were currently weaving through the throngs of people towards their last hope.

"This is the last one we're trying, Kathryn," he said sternly. "If they're closed, or out of business, or serve paint thinner under the guise of a beverage, we'll just have to deal with it and make our own coffee, okay?"

There was no response, which was so absolutely contrary to the impassioned speech he was expecting that he stopped short – only to find himself alone.

He blinked, then looked to his other side, then scanned up ahead. After all, Kathryn had been known to execute some pretty superhuman feats when there was coffee on the horizon. For all he knew, she could already be inside, on her third cup.

"Chakotay!"

He winced at the shout from behind him. Okay, maybe not, he admitted as he turned and caught sight of her, sitting in a disheveled heap at the base of the stone staircase leading from the park, attempting to vaporize her broken shoe with a glare.

"The heel snapped right off," she called as he jogged back to her. "I've only HAD these shoes for ten years!"

"Are you okay?" he demanded, taking her arm and attempting to lift her to her feet. "Can you stand?"

"Yes, I'm fi—ACK!"

She collapsed back to the ground, clutching her ankle and swearing profusely.

"It doesn't look broken," he announced after a quick examination. "But I think it might be sprained."

"What was your first clue?" she huffed, staring pointedly at her ankle, which had already managed to swell impressively, and was in the process of turning an interesting combination of blue, purple, and a just a little bit of yellow.

"Let me contact the ship, and we'll get you to Sickbay."

She waved him off impatiently, before shoving a handful of money at him.

"Never mind that! Go get the coffee!"

With a sigh, he reached for her again and started to lift her from the ground.

"Okay, let's just get you to that bench, and—"

"I'll get there just fine on my own," she interrupted. "Go get the coffee!"

He made a noise of exasperation.

"Kathryn, I'm not going to leave you sitting in the middle of the street—"

"Chakotay!" she barked. "Coffee!"

Reflexively, he dropped her back to the ground and backed up, gesturing his surrender.

"Okay, okay, coffee."

"Please hurry!" she called desperately after him as he ran.

Once alone, she picked up the now detached heel of her shoe and pouted.

"Useless, poorly constructed piece of garbage…"

"Okay, universe, I don't like you, and you don't like me, but if this place is closed too, there's a woman back there who's going to rain fiery vengeance down upon both of us, so let's just call a truce for a minute and get some damn coffee."

More than one passer-by stopped and stared curiously as he strode by, muttering fervently to himself. As he approached the shop and noted the bustle of activity and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee-esque substance, he breathed a quick prayer of thanksgiving to the aforementioned universe, and hurried to join the line-up.

"Hi," he greeted several minutes later, once the customers in front of him had dwindled. "I don't quite know what I'm looking for; it's called 'coffee' where I'm from, and someone told me there's something here that's a lot like it: it's dark and bitter, and it promotes alertness, and—"

"Hot or iced?" the frazzled woman behind the counter broke in impatiently.

He frowned, pondering this issue. Somewhere over the course of the day, the pleasantly drowsy warmth had turned into unbearable, crushing heat, and he was willing to bet that Kathryn, either dodging foot traffic in the middle of the street where he'd left her, or attempting to drag herself to the nearest bench, was feeling it too.

And hey, if nothing else, they were going to need something to use as an ice pack, because he was fairly certain that he wasn't getting her anywhere near the doctor while there was still anything even remotely resembling coffee to be enjoyed.

"Iced," he finally said decisively. "Two. The biggest size you have."

With a swiftness that made his head spin a little, the woman produced two massive cups – jugs, he thought in astonishment – of something that indeed looked and smelled very much like coffee, over a heap of finely crushed ice.

Once the beverages had been paid for – and quickly tested for any resemblance to raw sewage – he hurried back across the street to his fallen captain.

"I got the coffee," he announced. "I hope iced is o-GACK!"

This rather bizarre statement was not the beginning of Chakotay's rapid descent into insanity. Rather, it was an expression of his vehement disapproval of his lot in life, as his foot caught on something, and he found himself pitching towards the ground at an alarming rate. As he fell, his wild flailing to right himself resulted in two very large vessels being flung directly up in the air, where they proceeded to send a gentle rain of well iced coffee down upon him.

Refreshing, he noted.

While he was attempting to get his bearings and wipe the lovely beverage from his eyes, Kathryn inched surreptitiously around him and snatched up her broken shoe before he could realize what had precipitated his fall. Once the evidence had been tucked safely away, she scrambled back to her coffee-soaked companion.

"Are you alright?" she demanded, already checking for broken bones.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, pulling away from her none-too-gentle prodding. With a look at the now empty cups, he sighed. "Damn. It looked really good, too."

She regarded him solemnly, dripping with coffee, his clothes clinging wetly to his broad, muscled frame, and noted silently that it still looked awfully good to her.

Catching her gaze and following it to somewhere around his midsection – the cups, he surmised – he sighed again.

"I'll go get some more."

She caught his hand.

"I'm happy with what we have here. Waste not, want not, you know."

He blinked, rather bewildered, and his eyes widened abruptly and dramatically as she shifted closer, tongue darting out to catch a drop as it rolled down his earlobe.

"You were right," she announced happily. "It's really good."

Chakotay looked from her, to the nearly empty cups in his hand, and back to her. Then, before she could do more than blink, he tossed the remainder of both drinks at her.

"Ack!" she noted curiously, throwing her hands up a second too late as the icy beverage hit her and dripped down her front.

"What can I say?" he shrugged in response to her outraged glare, eyeing the tempting little pool settling at her collarbone. "I wanted some too."

Notes: Based (very) loosely on an adventure I had with the coffee fanatic in my life. I tried to plug our staunch heroes straight into the scenario, but it sort of grew tentacles and went shippy on me.