A/N: I guess here is where I tell you that there are 13 chapters in this story, in case you were wondering how much longer I could prolong this. However, this chapter, Ch. 8, is my favorite one in the entire bunch.

CHAPTER 8

Shran entered the private mess and immediately made a beeline toward the person he believed was the captain.

"I've been studying your culture, Captain Archer," Shran said, thrusting his hand toward Hoshi with a smirk on his blue-tinged lips. "Put it there, pink skin!"

Hoshi stared mutely at the extended appendage and then gave the real captain a desperate glance.

"Shran," Jon said, drawing the Andorian's attention to the petite female figure seated at the head of the captain's table.

"That's Commander Shran to you! And I don't believe we've had the pleasure of being introduced," Shran said, his irritation at being interrupted by a subordinate making his antennae stand straight up.

"Shran," Jon said again, rising to his feet and getting a shock when he realized he had to look up to the Andorian, even when he drew himself up to Hoshi's full height. "I'm Jonathan Archer."

Shran studied him for a moment, then threw back his head and laughed. "Oh, yes. I've come across references to 'practical jokes' in my study of your culture." He turned back to Hoshi. "Nice try, Captain Archer, but I'm not that easy to fool. Really, I would have expected better from you."

"I'm not the captain," Hoshi said, rising from her chair. "I'm Ensign Hoshi Sato, the communications officer."

"Your insignia says you're an ensign, but you look like Archer to me," Shran said, impatience at the perceived charade creeping into his voice.

"Shran!" Jon said yet again, and Hoshi could see the effort it took Jon to keep his temper in check. "The ensign and I have switched bodies."

Shran's scowling gaze went from one to the other and back again. "You've had your fun. Now please do me the courtesy of acting like yourselves."

"It's not funny!" Jon said. "We've aren't who we seem."

"That much is obvious from the reception I've gotten. You're out of your little pink-skinned minds," Shran said sourly. Switching his attention back to Hoshi, he added, "Now, I suggest you end your little joke and you and I can talk without underlings around."

"Maybe Doctor Phlox can convince him?" Hoshi asked Jon meekly.

"Better yet, let's ask T'Pol to explain it to him," Jon said devilishly. Sarcasm dripped from his next words. "I know how much Shran appreciates her company."

Shran glared at Jon, the slightest narrowing of his eyes and the curling of his antennae betraying displeasure as well as the first inkling of doubt. "You wouldn't dare have that Vulcan 'explain' something to me like I'm a dim-witted child!"

"Try me," Jon shot back.

Shran's gaze lingered on the four pips on the collar of the woman claiming to be captain of Enterprise.

"Your attitude certainly reminds me of Captain Archer," Shran conceded, seating himself at the table without invitation and gesturing for the others to retake their seats. "Explain how this situation occurred."

Over lunch, Jon detailed how the switch had come about. Shran listened avidly, his interruptions and snide comments coming less frequently as the tale unfolded. By the time Jon had finished, Shran had a thoughtful look on his face. That is, Hoshi thought with disgust, when he wasn't leering at Jon in her body.

During a lull in the conversation, she took the opportunity to excuse herself. This interval with Shran was just another distraction. What she really wanted was to get back to work on deciphering the inscriptions.

She crossed through the main mess hall, feeling the curious stares of the crewmen eating lunch. She avoided eye contact with everyone, intent on making it to her quarters without another embarrassing or awkward meeting. Other than the senior staff, she hadn't talked to anyone about what had happened, and she wasn't sure she wanted to.

But -- damn it! -- why did Jon have to be so tall? It was hard to be inconspicuous when you towered over everyone else.

She unconsciously adopted Jon's arm-swinging, fast-paced stride that was a clear sign he was pissed off, and the few crewmen she passed in the corridors gave her a wide berth.

Entering her cabin, she heaved a heartfelt sigh and sat down at her desk to call up the inscriptions. She caught herself staring at the unfamiliar fingers on the keyboard as she entered commands.

She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself, and took several deep breaths. It worked until she swallowed and Jon's Adam's apple bobbed up and down. Even when she wasn't looking at herself, she was aware of the differences.

With a grimace, she forced herself to concentrate. Soon she was immersed in the inscriptions, comparing common symbols and their placement in the language's structure.

Some time later, the door chime startled her out of her study and breaking her train of thought.

"Come in!" she called out.

The door slid back to reveal Malcolm. She gave him a smile and inclined her head, indicating he should enter.

"How's it going?" he asked. "Making any headway on the translation?"

Hoshi rubbed her tired eyes. "Not as much as I'd like. I thought I was on to something there for a moment, but I'm not sure."

He came to stand next to her and, after only a slight hesitation, placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "I'm sure you'll figure it out."

She smiled, both at his reassurance and the fact that he had actually touched her in a gesture of support while she was in this body. That must have been hard for him to do.

"I checked sickbay when I took my lunch break," Malcolm said. "I was surprised not to find you or the captain there."

"I needed some place quiet to work."

Malcolm leaned toward her. "I heard Shran showed up and had lunch with you two."

"I left as soon as I could," Hoshi said. "The captain's probably still tied up with Shran."

"You left the captain -- in your body -- alone with Shran?" Malcolm asked in alarm.

"You have a problem with that?"

"No. ... Well, yes. Bloody hell! I'm going to go check on him -- them."

A small part of Jon was amused by the change that came over Shran after Hoshi left. The Andorian was charmed by his communications officer's appearance, despite the fact that it was occupied by Jon, and was turning on the charisma like crazy.

A larger part of Jon was royally ticked. Wasn't it just like Shran to seek some sort of advantage from the dilemma an opponent was in? Jon didn't kid himself -- he and Shran had butted heads on more than one occasion, and the blue-skinned antennaed-alien was more apt to look at him as an adversary than as a friend.

But just because Jon looked like a woman didn't mean he'd lost any of his powers of reasoning. Or his sense of decorum, for that matter. He suppressed a sigh as Shran scooted his chair closer for the third time in less than five minutes.

"I may have some information that could shed some light on what's happened to you," Shran purred in that silky voice he used when he wanted something.

"And that is...?" Jon asked warily, edging away from the encroaching Andorian as far as he could while still seated.

"There have been stories back on Andor," Shran began, eyeing Jon up and down. "I have it on good authority that some Imperial Guard forces visited the same planet where you claim this 'body switch' was initiated."

Despite Shran's increasingly lascivious attitude, Jon looked with interest at the Andorian. "Oh?"

"Several members of the Guard were consequently relieved of duty." Shran paused for effect. "Their claims of being in the wrong bodies were thought to be symptomatic of a mental disorder."

"Didn't anyone take them seriously?" Jon asked.

"Oh, they were checked out. A ship was even sent to that planet to investigate, and more members of the Imperial Guard came down with whatever strange malady had affected the other victims. They're in a facility now where they can't hurt themselves. I mean, where they can be taken care of properly."

Shran leaned back in his chair with an air of satisfaction.

"That's it?" Jon asked.

"Yes. But all Andorian ships are now under strict orders not to make landfall on that planet."

Jon pondered Shran's words. Andorians had been subjected to the same body-switching as he and Hoshi had been but they hadn't figured out the actual process. No wonder the Imperial Guard had issued the order for its ships to stay away from the planet. That they'd tried to pass off the aberration as a mental disorder rather than find a solution struck Jon as irresponsible as well as immoral.

He was certain the Andorians hadn't figured out how to reverse the procedure because Shran would have said so. He wouldn't hesitate to boast about something like that and, in typical Shran fashion, offer the solution to Jon but with a price attached.

Jon moved to get up so that he could pace. He did his best thinking when he was in motion. The switch in bodies hadn't changed that aspect of him.

A blue hand on his arm stopped him. He looked from the hand to Shran's face and didn't like what he saw there.

"Really, Captain," Shran said, all but purring, "if there was a way to change you back, don't you think I'd let you know? Not that I don't like the way you look now. It opens up a whole new set of possibilities for our...professional...relationship."

Jon shook off Shran's hand and stood up. "Get the hell away from me, Shran!" he said, indignation in every muscle of Hoshi's body.

Jon wondered if this all-consuming rage was what Hoshi felt when some guy she didn't like made a crude pass at her. Deep down, he also felt the cold fingers of fear touch him. In his true body, he wouldn't have any qualms about a physical confrontation with Shran. Now, in Hoshi's body, he had serious doubts.

The Andorian got to his feet as well. Jon's sudden flare of temper hadn't dissuaded him. If anything, it seemed only to encourage Shran, and he began stalking Jon.

Trying to keep the table between them, Jon had several opportunities to run for an exit, but he didn't. What would the crew think of their captain running from another ship's commander simply because there were sexual politics involved?

Jon realized Shran must know what he was thinking as the Andorian deliberately followed him around the table, leaving the way clear to the door.

"Why don't we sit down and talk about this like civilized beings?" Shran asked, unknowingly using Jon's earlier words to Hoshi.

"Shut up!" Jon spat out. "If you think simply because I look like a female right now that you can try--"

"I am trying," Shran said. "I find your new appearance, coupled with your authority over the finest ship in Starfleet, to be incredibly provocative. This could turn out to be a first for Andorian-human relations."

"Shran, I'm warning you--"

Shran lunged, narrowly missing as Jon scrambled away.

His back to the main door, Jon didn't see it slide open. He was too preoccupied with keeping out of Shran's clutches.

Therefore, the entire mess hall -- including a concerned Malcolm Reed who had opened the door when his request for entrance went unanswered -- heard Jon's enraged bellow in Hoshi's shrill voice.

"Damn it, Shran! KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF!"