Thumbelina: Day Two

cheile:

rawkfemme:

Day two of Kathryn Janeway’s predicament started with both a
bang and a whimper.  The early morning
status update that Chakotay had requested found him still asleep after night of
tossing and turning. He had awoken several times in the night to check on the
tiny Janeway, asleep in her tiny bed.  When
his combadge chirped, Chakotay was deep in a much needed REM cycle. The jarring
and unwelcome sound caused him to reflexively throw his hand across to the
badge sitting on his nightstand. Sitting inches away from his diminutive
commanding officer.

“Torres to Chakotay.  Torres to Commander Chakotay.”  The only immediate response B’Elanna received
was the sound of muffled swearing.

“Chakotay here.  B’Elanna, come quick. And bring tricorders. I
think I’ve lost her.”

“Lost her, sir?”

When B’Elanna enters the room with the security team moments
later, she sees a very shaken Chakotay seated on the floor of his bedroom, in
deep remorse, being dressed down.

“If it hadn’t been for
that damn lucky pile of laundry on the floor. And then that failing around
trying to find me.”

“I’m so sorry. I truly
didn’t mean to sweep you away like that.
I mean, off, sweep you off.”

B’Elanna knew she had to get everyone out of the room, as the
situation was clearly under control. But as she turned to go, she couldn’t help
but blush as she caught a glimpse of the smallest captain in all of Starfleet stomping
around, wearing only panties and an undershirt.

“You could have
squashed me!”

Later that morning, the command team arrives on the bridge,
with the captain riding in Chakotay’s custom pocket. The day proceeds quietly,
with Janeway reading padds as Chakotay holds them up for her. Luckily, the
computer is able to recognize her miniature thumb print as authorization.

Shortly, the need to feed a certain caffeine habit makes
itself known, in the form of one heck of a headache.  Drinking water from a full-to-the brim
demi-tasse hadn’t been a problem, but that technique wouldn’t work so well for
coffee.

“I’ll scald my face
off!”

Soon the entire crew was trying to fashion the world’s
smallest coffee cup.  Vorik was able to triumph
with the end cap of a tritanium alloy siphon rod, soldered to a small bit of
black wire for a handle. It looked exactly like a mess hall mug. Janeway placed
a commendation in his file for creativity and ingenuity under pressure.  A clean medicine dropper was secured from sick
bay…

“I’m not sure she
should be drinking coffee until I can run more tests. She shrank. The caffeine
molecules didn’t.”

…and Chakotay was able to keep her tiny cup full all day.

When lunch time rolled around, Janeway dismissed Chakotay to
the mess hall.

“I’m just going to sit
in my chair on the bridge. I’ll be fine.”

“Sure, until Tom
decides to take a hard turn.”

“Worry wart.  Go eat. Spend an hour not thinking about me.
Tuvok is at his station to keep watch. I’ll be fine.”

The mid-day reports start to drift in.  As the ensigns tasked with bringing the padds
to the bridge exit the turbolift, they turn to present the reports to Tuvok.
His quirked eyebrow and subtle nod inform them of what they missed, that the
captain is indeed on the bridge. They cross to her chair and kneel down in
front of her, like serfs paying homage to their ruler. All except Chell.  The large Bolian loses his balance at the
awkward position and surprise of seeing his larger-than-life leader’s current
form.  He delivers his report seated on
the floor. While summarizing the morning activities, more than one ensign has
to struggle to keep eye contact, and not stare at the tiny boots dangling an absurd
distance from the floor, or the miniscule fingers, tapping out a rhythm of
annoyance and impatience.

When Chakotay has returned from lunch, he reveals that he
disobeyed a direct order. Instead of sitting in the mess hall thinking of
anything except Janeway, he spent it in the hydroponics bay, crafting woody
clippings into a ladder. One just the right height to help his captain descend
from her command chair.

“I really didn’t care
for the idea of you trying to hop down. And I know how you feel about asking
for help.”

Regaining even this tiny, purely symbolic amount of
independence warms Kathryn’s heart.  She’s
been asking for regular updates from engineering and sciences on how this happened
and how they can fix it, fix her, but progress is slow and frustrating.  The interference that they passed through at
the time of the transport was unknown to the sensors, and the team hasn’t been
able to replicate it. Kathryn and Chakotay finish the shift in the ready room;
him reading reports on the couch and her jumping from key to key on her desktop
station, trying to assist in cracking open the secrets of the interference in
any way she can.

On the walk back to Chakotay’s quarters, Janeway snugs down
in the pocket. Today’s adventure in typing while tiny was surprisingly physical,
and the pocket is warm and cozy.  The
sway of his step, the darkness of the fabric, and the gentle rhythm of his
heartbeat soon lull Janeway into an easy sleep. Noticing this, Chakotay slips
his hand inside the pocket, and leans to the side, so that she rolls naturally
onto his fingers. After carefully extracting her, still sound asleep, he places
her on the doll bed and lightly draws the comforter up to her chin.  Then carefully, very carefully, he moves her
and the bed to the ledge of his view port, a safe distance away from his reach.
As he calls for the lights to be lowered and leaves the room, Janeway creeps
one eye open and rolls over. She sees the vista of stars above and all around
her. They look the same as they always have. They are the one thing that hasn’t
changed, that isn’t an obstacle sixteen times larger than it was a few days
ago.  Looking at the stars, at her stars,
Kathryn Janeway feels something resembling normalcy for the first time in too
long a time. 

OMGGGGG.  THAT ENDING.  

once again, you do a wonderful mix of believable humor and general plot and dashes of adorable.  and some hysterically funny humor (i can just see Chell on his butt and her jumping from key to key on the desktop console haha)

Waking up to @rawkfemme‘s magical brain having turned yet another piece of this epic post into this wonderful piece of fiction for us to enjoy – best morning routine I’ve ever had.

I am loving this beyond words.

Agree with @cheile, I can clearly envision her jumping around on her computer or her sitting on the edge of her huge Commmand Chair, tapping her fingers. I couldn’t keep a straight face.

from Tumblr http://ift.tt/2oKrD15

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