AUTHOR'S NOTE:

For my dearest Runawaymetaphor - in sickness and in health. Get well soon, babe, and I will try to do the same.

This chapter is rated M for mention of certain …. activities (nothing graphic); apologies to followers who are restricted to T. Additional apologies to C/7 fans around the planet – I'm afraid that is one "pairing" I will never get. If you do, read no further. ;-)

Of Inconvenient Implants

From: Cdr. Thomas E. Paris, U.S.S. Voyager

To: Adm. Kathryn E. Janeway, SFHQ

Stardate: 666012.3

Subject: URGENT – HELP!

I'm in Sickbay again. Can you believe it? And it's not as a medic. I'm a fucking patient. Although the Doc keeps informing me that "the word patient is highly inappropriate in your case, Mr. Paris". No idea what he's on about there. None.

Anyway, so I'm stuck here on my back on a biobed, waiting for the Doc to take out that shiny extra uterus the mild-mannered and obviously very devout Xlovt bestowed on me in the name of "The Great Equalization." God, I hate diplomacy. Timing is critical – I can't afford for B'Elanna to find out and get ideas.

Frankly, I think the Doc enjoys this a little too much. Any suggestions how I can get him to put a move on, and his mouth shut? I tried telling him what a fantastic challenge to his epic medical abilities this whole thing was, but he isn't biting. You dealt with him in the role of Commanding Officer before, right? Why doesn't he obey a direct order? Isn't that subordination? I got thrown in the brig for that, as I recall.

Please? Help? I promise to buy the first round when we next get to McKinley, and tell you the latest gossip on Seven and Chakotay. If you want, that is.

From: Adm. Kathryn E. Janeway, SFHQ

To: Cdr. Thomas E. Paris, U.S.S. Voyager

Stardate: 666012.4

Subject: Re: URGENT – HELP!

Xcvsbshgdiuwe!

Sorry. Had a little giggle fit there just as I put my hands on the keyboard. Must remember to tell Nacheyev about your little adventure – that Great Equalization is one way to get the estrogen level in command ranks up a notch, huh?

Okay. I'm serious now. But first - stop whining, Tom, it doesn't become you. And stop harping on your brig time. We went over that several times – just find a way of acknowledging that you were wrong and I was right, and move on.

As for the Doc, I always found that blackmail worked well, as did extortion. Guilt trips are good in a pinch - but do you have the goods for that? You were almost as much a pain in the ass as he was.

Ah, the joys of Sickbay. Did I ever tell you about the time I spent in recovery, after that little Unimatrix Zero adventure? Probably not, because you would have used it to win some kind of bet. I remember there were a lot of pools relating to my relationship to Seven in those days, for some obscure reason, and she kept popping in and out, regaling me with her observations when all I wanted to do was puke out Borg implants. I'm sure that whole perfect storm of issues impeded my recovery by at least twelve hours and I didn't speak to Seven for days.

PS: One of these days I WILL find out who ran the Voyager betting pool after you dropped it, you know. I always suspected Harry. Any hints?

PPSS: Count your lucky star(s) that the Great Equalization did not result in removal of any valuables. I hear they're a bitch to restore.

From: Cdr. Thomas E. Paris, U.S.S. Voyager

To: Adm. Kathryn E. Janeway, SFHQ

Stardate: 666012.5

Subject: Re: Re:URGENT – HELP!

Thanks! And – nice try on that blackmail thing. Or is it extortion when a superior officer tries to get me to rat on my friends, and help you conduct an ex post facto witch hunt in exchange for my silence? Ha. (Nicely done, by the way. Subtle. Very subtle. I put a copy of this exchange on an isolinear chip for posterity, though, just in case. After all, I've learned from the best!)

I tried the direct approach with the Doc – "do the procedure now or I'll decompile your matrix and send the codes into the bowels of a Neutron Star" – but all I got was a huffy, "And who will look after Miral when she gets sick? You?" Bastard.

Guilt ended up being a much more promising approach, as it turned out. I started with Lieutenant Marseilles, and when he didn't twitch I raised him the month I ran this fucking place so he could go play saviour to Dr. Zimmermann. But he didn't actually pick up the detronal scanner until I called him on the Kidnapping Of My Pregnant Wife (okay, we didn't know it then yet, but she was.)

So I got rid of the extra bits just in time, too, because Chell came in with a GI thing this morning. Have you ever been forced to breathe in a Bolian fart? Over and over again? I'd ask B'Elanna to up the environmental controls, but then I'd have to explain to her why I was in Sickbay to begin with.

As for the pool, you may actually not want to shoot it down; it's still live. The clock on Chakotay and Seven hasn't run out, and betting is getting pretty heavy. I'd be happy to put in a sliver of latinum on your behalf. (My gut tells me they won't make it past this mission. You see, I know for a fact that the Doc couldn't take out that particular implant without causing irreparable harm to Seven's cortical nodes – don't ask how those things are linked, but apparently they are.)

From: Adm. Kathryn E. Janeway, SFHQ

To: Cdr. Thomas E. Paris, U.S.S. Voyager

Stardate: 666015.7

Subject: Business ventures

Glad you got your estrogen levels sorted. And yes, put in a quarter of a bar for me – max 6 weeks. If there's a range, make it 4-6.

PS: Any special medic's tricks for projectile vomiting and a dorsal rash that don't involve an actual trip to Sickbay? Speaking hypothetically, of course.

From: Cdr. Thomas E. Paris, U.S.S. Voyager

To: Adm. Kathryn E. Janeway, SFHQ

Stardate: 666016.4

Subject: URGENT Re: Business ventures

I can't make a diagnosis without seeing you in person, but the symptoms sound like the Imolean flu. If that's what it is, a brief immersion in a thalaron particle shower should do the trick; the virus is very susceptible to the radiation. But you should really have yourself diagnosed by a competent physician. The cure isn't foolproof either.

GO TO SICKBAY. This bug can turn nasty inside twenty-four hours. And for the record, I am only telling you this stuff because my Hippocratic Oath requires me to help, and I just know you won't go see a real doctor.

PS: Do you have any inside information to share re C/7? The pot is at 10 bars. Five apiece wouldn't be bad. Since I assume you're expecting me to front you the entry fee?

From: Adm. Kathryn E. Janeway, SFHQ

To: Cdr. Thomas E. Paris, U.S.S. Voyager

Stardate: 666017.1

Subject: Re: URGENT Re: Business ventures

What makes you think this whole Imolean flu thing is about me? I was speaking purely hypothetically. As I told you, Commander. Have some faith.

In a completely unrelated event, my shuttle ran into a recently exploded supernova that was emitting a considerable amount of thalaron particles. Did you know that one of the side effects of thalaron irradiation is immediate hair loss? You might have mentioned it. Luckily, unlike Picard, I have follicles to stimulate and managed to convince the Ardovian Ambassador that I got a drastic haircut in the name of protocol. (Oh, by the way, apparently the warranty on Vash was still good. Q returned her and recouped Jean-Luc's hair. That poor man. Now he's bald AND has to hide from his ex-girlfriend.)

So anyway, fine. You win. This time. Fund my way into this pool and we'll split the proceeds. Here's the deal: C sent me a long-winded comm the other day, which mentioned that the unremovable Problematic Implant has had a serious … chilling effect on their relationship. He also noted, in passing, the danger inherent in giving blowjobs to a woman who can snap your neck and crush your skull with her thighs when she spasms.

I think there are trust issues in that relationship. And surely they must be running out of things to talk to each other about by now. Lord knows I did.

From: Cdr. Thomas E. Paris, U.S.S. Voyager

To: Adm. Kathryn E. Janeway, SFHQ

Stardate: 666026.0

Subject: URGENT Re: Business ventures

Bingo!

You and I are on for some serious partying at McKinley next week – woohoo! Five and a half bars of latinum each! I'm contemplating buying a new shuttle.

Too bad B'Elanna can't join us in the drinking – we're having another baby! She's about three months gone, and getting cranky.

Chakotay and Seven have assured everybody that they'll stay friends, and that none of this will affect their ability to work together. To tell you the truth, they both seem kind of relieved, in an odd way. Like a spell was lifted, or something. I ran into Seven in Sandrine's last night, and she told me she had no idea what came over her in those last couple of weeks in the DQ. She suspects the Borg Queen, or other Unseen Powers. But that's just nonsense, right? As if someone was pulling our strings out there.

From: Adm. Kathryn E. Janeway, SFHQ

To: Cdr. Thomas E. Paris, U.S.S. Voyager

Stardate: 666027.8

Subject: The Great Equalization

Congratulations, on all fronts! Delightful news. De-lightful.

BUT. My dear Thomas Eugene.

I am SO telling B'Elanna about your recent adventures in Sickbay. (And here I thought male chauvinism had died out with Jim Kirk. Hmpf.)

Who did you say ran the betting pool again?