Disclaimer: I own nothing from Star Trek and I make no money from these stories either, believe me, I couldn't even if I tried.

Rating: Some cursing so I'm going with a 15+ (ish), nothing too bad though.
Warnings: Light cursing, relationship between two women and suggestive adults
themes, as well as being un-beta'd (which is probably the worst one out of all
of it honestly)

Well my fellows, attempt to enjoy…Another Murphy's Law Day!

Ch 1: A Beginners Guide to Communication

Kathryn Janeway had rather suspected that today was going to be a bad day. The first indicator had been when her replicator had refused to make any coffee. The next had definitely been when she couldn't find her fourth pip which, it turned out, had somehow fallen behind her dresser. She had used her ceremonial sword to coach the little golden pip out. It had all just seemed to go downhill from there.

She had expected a major alien attack. She had expected the Borg to come and demand Seven of Nine…again. She had even considered Seska somehow trying to kill them all from the grave for a second time. What she had not expected was to sit down in her captain's chair, only to have her bottom come into contact with a warm human body. With a strangled yelp, Captain Janeway had leapt from her seat and turned mid-air to face whoever it was.

Why she never expected Q was something she couldn't answer, and had a feeling she didn't really care to know.

"My dear," Q began, "I can't help but wonder why you allow yourself to be bothered with all these little people, I think you need a vacation!"

Kathryn rolled her eyes before responding, "Oh, with who? You? That would get me a vacation, but I'd still have to `deal' with a little person."

Q looked rather surprised and annoyed at her response. "I wasn't talking to you Kathy; I was talking to that hunk of a man over there with the tattoo!" Q waved his hand slightly at her now rather disturbed first officer.

Chakotay had opted to not call today a bad day, but a challenge from the spirits. He had found himself constantly being stuck with meat filled breakfasts this morning from his replicator, and that had honestly only been the beginning. He'd cut himself while shaving, tripped into the turbo lift (which had decided to stop a full two inches above its designated stop) and had managed to make it to the mess hall only to remember that he was still wearing his pajamas. After a quick change he'd returned to find leola root scramble on the menu, it turned out something was wrong with the replicator system ship wide.

The last thing he wanted was to have what appeared to be an amorous Q trying to jump his bones. After glancing at his shocked captain Chakotay refocused on Q, who was fluttering his eyes in what Chakotay assumed was supposed to be an enticing way. "Well," he began, "you flatter me Q, but I'm rather happy to not go on any sort of…trip with you. I'm rather fond of these little people." Chakotay gave what he hoped came across as a friendly smile. If there was one thing that would really make this day bad, it would be an insulted and angry Q.

Q rolled his eyes, very typical human behavior. "Why do you Starfleet types always have to assume that I have some sort of hidden agenda? Besides what would a few weeks in the sun do that would be so horrible?" Q snapped his fingers and he reappeared in the Commanders lap. "I just want to be helpful." Q tapped Chakotay's nose once with his index finger.

Chakotay tried to not gag. It wasn't so much that Q was a man; it was that the man in his lap was Q. He attempted to disengage from the volatile man only to have his arms pinned down to his chair. Clearing his throat Chakotay responded, "Well, I'm not so sure you do want to be helpful, and every time you come onboard you always have a hidden agenda. Is it so strange that we know what you've done in the past and have decided that you're motivations appear…less than helpful?"

Q frowned before placing a hand over his heart, "I'm a changed man Chuckles, changed!"

Chakotay sighed heavily, "Of course, all you have to do is prove it to us and I'm sure we'll give you the benefit of the doubt."

Q thought for a moment before smiling. "I know just the way to do it!" With a snap of his fingers Q disappeared entirely, and Janeway found herself seated in her chair.

There was a moment of confused silence on the bridge as everyone began to see what Q had done.

Tom Paris had decided that the day was going badly when his alarm had gone off at 02:00 hours that morning, and had continued to blare at him in five minuet intervals. He'd only found relief when he'd finally given up and gone to the mess hall, where he'd promptly fallen asleep on one of the couches. Neelix had woken him up about an hour later while preparing breakfast for the crew. Tom then found himself stuck behind the counter with the constantly bubbly man, chopping up leola roots for what Neelix promised to be the best leola scramble they'd ever tasted. Finally Tom had become the unhappy taste tester, and had finally given it a thumbs up when he didn't feel like his innards were being melted.

And now this whole thing with Q, Tom shook his head slightly before rechecking their position and heading. Nothing had changed apparently, and Tom suddenly felt like he had to talk. Not that he wanted to, or that he should, but that he had to say something. Turning in his chair to face his commanding officers Tom Paris blurted out the last thing he'd meant to say. "I can't believe anyone would be that childish." Clapping a hand over his mouth Tom swallowed before trying to crack a joke, "Nothing's been changed on the navigation end of things, so I wonder what Q is doing. He's behaving in an annoying and unhelpful way. It's bothersome." Tom hit his chest a few times before giving it one more
try, "What I'm trying to say, isn't what I am saying at all. This is slightly worrisome."

Kathryn stared with worry at her helmsman before deciding that something was terribly wrong with him. Sickbay sounded like a good idea to her, but instead of ordering him down there she found herself saying, "Well, it is rather nice to not get a stupid wise crack from you Mr. Paris, now if only Q has gotten the Doctor I would really have several less headaches." Her mouth slammed shut as she stared at Tom in surprised horror. That was no way to address her crew. "I see what you're saying about the speaking without the ability to control what is said. What do you think Tuvok?"

The Vulcan officer had been spending every free moment he had meditating, and Q had severely tested his emotional control. As a Vulcan he did not believe in luck, everything came about by a logical means. That had been his mantra since his replicator had refused to create some spice tea for him this morning after being subjected to several hours of heavy metal rock music, which he had not requested the computer to play for him. He had made the sound decision to avoid the mess hall and instead had gone to work early, and even here he'd been having trouble with security officers being late, malfunctioning equipment, and a note from Lt. Torres warning him that for some reason their phaser banks and torpedo tubes seemed to be jammed up. The last thing the stoic man had wanted was Q to come into the picture. There had to be a reason, he was sure there was something Q was trying to accomplish but what was a mystery.

Turning to face his long time friend Tuvok attempted to answer her only to find a single word torn from his lips, "Boooooooooooring." Blinking several times Tuvok tilted his head before attempting to enunciate that they should all report to sickbay, instead he found himself saying, "And my headaches would be solved if every time you made a dumb decision I was allowed to flog you." After another pause Tuvok looked over at Ayala. "Mr. Ayala, please take my post, I think we're all going to take a trip to sick bay. Although I can not promise I will not attempt to wrench the Doctor apart photon by photon if he insists upon singing annoying `trail songs' today."

Tuvok decided that that was close enough to what he had meant to say, and simply walked over to the turbo lift. Just as he was about to press the request button, a ship wide announcement was made.

"Attention, this is the EMH, please stop sending me people. I am well aware that no one seems to have control over their speech patterns, although I'm not sure how that is too much different than usual. Kes and I are working on a solution, and no, I don't know how Kes got on board. I'm just glad we didn't get a second Tom Paris."

As the communication died, Tuvok found himself saying, "If we had received another Tom Paris, I would be forced to hurt someone."

Tom frowned slightly before turning back to the conn, "You know…if you don't like me all you have to do is ask me to leave you alone. You didn't have to be a total jerk about it."

Chakotay nodded his head slightly before taking a deep breath, "It's true, but my people have a story about that. There once was a bird who liked to sing. He would sing all day, and all night. He would sing when he walked down the street, when he soared over the hills, and even when he slept. He simply loved to sing. The other birds did not like his singing. They tried everything they could to stop him from singing. One tied his break shut when he sang in his sleep, but the string simply broke from his desire to sing. Another fed him honey infused with spices to ruin his throat, but his love of singing kept him going. Another tried to get other animals to simply eat the bird and end their misery, but none would enter their valley. No matter what they did, the damn bird sang and so they eventually learned to ignore him and imagine his slow death; the end."

Janeway rubbed her forehead before saying, "Well, that is certainly what we feel like when you tell one of your stupid stories Chakotay."

The broad man smiled sheepishly, "The next time I go on like that just hit me in the head. Seriously, I mean it; the next time I try to tell you a boring story that you can already guess the ending to, just hit me over the head with something. Telling boring stories seems to be a genetic trait in my family. It's why I don't talk too much anymore, if I do I just launch into these stupid stories no one wants to hear. It all started back with my great-great-grandfather, Singing Bird, who enjoyed talking and singing about the most-OW!" Chakotay gently rubbed his head before looking at his padd wielding captain. "Thank you, I was getting carried away."

Janeway shrugged her shoulders before putting the padd down. "Don't thank me, I acted out of self preservation, thanks for the warning though."

"You're welcome," Chakotay smiled before focusing back on his duties.

Janeway nodded slightly before turning back to face the view screen. She knew that Q had to have done this to the crew, but there was something odd about the whole mess. It seemed like they had all tapped slightly more into what their truthful feelings were, it just wasn't the whole truth. She did find Tom annoying, but not every day, and she honestly felt mostly positive feelings towards the young man. So why in the world was she letting on to her annoyance, but not to her good feelings? Then she realized she had a major problem.

If everyone seemed to be tapping into their unhappy or more aggressive feelings, who in the world was going to save the ship from B'Elanna Torres?