Title: Decontamination
Rating: T
Fandom: Voyager
Pairing: Midly Janeway/Chakotay
Summary: “The procedures and protocols clearly state no one can leave the bridge without going through the decontamination procedure.” Kathryn stifles her groan and eyes the small cubicle and pile of gowns that have appeared in the centre of the bridge.
Notes: 1862 words. The thought process that lead me to this was: NCIS, how many times they had Kate in the shower, the SWALK episode, Janeway/Chakotay. I don’t really understand how we got here either.
“I’m sorry, Captain, there’s nothing else for it.”
The Doctor’s face is larger than it really needs to be as he uses the viewscreen to talk to them from sickbay. On days like these, she doesn’t want to decompile his programme, she wants to strangle him. But it’s not going to hurt him so she thinks about strangling Zimmerman when she gets home. As it is the man may already be dead by the time she actually gets there and there’s not much comfort in that either.
“The procedures and protocols clearly state no one can leave the bridge without going through the decontamination procedure.”
Kathryn stifles her groan and eyes the small cubicle and pile of gowns that have appeared in the centre of the bridge.
“All uniforms need to be recycled, including underwear, and all officers on the bridge need to be decontaminated and administer a hypospray before they can leave the bridge,” he repeats, “I don’t know why this is so difficult, it’s for your own health and the safety of both you and the rest of the crew.”
She can feel a headache coming on and she doesn’t dare look at any of her senior staff and keeps her eyes on the EMH.
“The combination of the radiation and gases are quite dangerous,” he continues. “The sooner you are all treated the better.”
She knows this, they all know this, she doesn’t really want to have to strip in front of her senior staff and have a sonic shower while the EMH watches on from the viewscreen.
But she’s locked on the bridge until she does. The spacial anomaly they hit had come with no warning, not even a sensor glitch and while Tom had skilfully piloted them through it and to a stop, the damage had released gases on the bridge and exposed them to radiation at the same time. She could feel B’Lanna itching to get down to Engineering to assess the damage.
“Very well,” she says.
“If I may Captain,” B’Lanna says, stepping forward, “I can go first and then I can get working on repairs.”
“I’m afraid you will still need to come to sickbay to be assessed by me.”
B’Lanna does not stifle her groan, though, in her case, it comes out more like a growl.
“I’ll go first anyway,” she grumbles, stepping down to the centre of the bridge, already pulling off her jacket and turtleneck. She drops them to the side of the little cubicle and pulls her boots off with more grace than Kathryn expected. She disappeared into the cubicle – which thankfully had a tall door and continued to throw the rest of her clothes over the top. It would be quite comical if it weren’t for the fact that she has to do the same thing in a minute and the burning sensation across her skin.
When had that started?
Tom was fiddling with the case of hyposprays when the sonic shower started. The sound made Kathryn’s head buzz.
“Captain?”
She looked across at Chakotay, B’Lanna was already out of the sonic shower and in a gown, frowning at the pile of clothes as Tom administers the hypospray. With the Doctor’s permission, she’s off the bridge and off to Engineering.
“Are you okay?” he asks softly. She nods, but the motion hurts her head, and she winces. She tries to smile.
“I think so,” she says, her voice sounds rough, and Chakotay reaches out to squeeze her hand.
“Maybe you should go next, so you can get down to sickbay.”
She nods, winces, stands and promptly hits the deck.
“Captain!” Chokotay’s voice is a dim panicked plea as he drops to his knees beside her and Tom looms over her with a hypospray and a tricorder.
“It’s the radiation,” he says, “this will help.”
The hiss of the hypospray hurts her ears. She feels Chakotay pulling her upright into his arms and she really doesn’t have the energy or ability to fight the desire to snuggle into his chest. She doesn’t get the chance though, as Chakotay helps her back into her seat.
“Just sit there for a moment Captain,” Tom is saying while stripping off in front of her. “We’ll get you decontaminated and transported to sickbay.” He’s down to just his trousers and if she wasn’t feeling so very dizzy she might’ve appreciated it. Instead, she closes her eyes and he disappears into the cubical for a sonic shower.
“We’ll go last,” Chakotay says, but not to her. “I’ll help her and get her transported to sickbay.”
“Very well Commander,” Tuvok is saying and she opens her eyes to see him removing his clothes as well and now she definitely needs to keep her eyes closed.
The hum stops and the hiss of a hypospray tells her Tom is done and back by her side with a tricorder when she opens her eyes again.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“Better,” she lies. The pattern on his gown is moving independently of the fabric.
Soon Tuvok is done, followed by Harry, and Ensign Carter who was working on something with Tuvok on the bridge. The three of them leave. She’s not watching, she’s trying not to, mostly because it hurts. though she wants to raise an eyebrow at the shocking pink underwear Carter drops into the pile, and the orange pair Harry Kim adds. This is really more than she needs to know about her crew and she’s already mourning the loss of her favourite bra.
“You go,” Tom says, and she feels Chakotay hesitate before standing.
She forces her eyes open. Though, it’s suddenly easier when it’s him apparently, because she can’t help herself. Tom is standing next to her in the moving pattern, looking at his tricorder with that hint of a smirk she knows far too well.
“Feeling better?” he asks, not daring to actually meet her eyes. Kathryn decides not to answer and simply watches as Chakotay strips down in front of her. Jacket, turtle next, no vest, boots, socks and she’s disappointed when he then slips into the cubicle. His trousers are thrown over the top to the growing pile, covering the pink and orange. She waits for his underwear and is rewarded by some black boxer briefs that follow. The hum of the sonic shower hurts her head so she closes her eyes again and only opens them when she hears the hiss of the hypospray right next to her. He’s back, in the gown and this one thankfully, is plain.
“Can you stand?” Chakotay asks, and his voice is so soft it’s like a blanket over her frayed nerves.
“Maybe,” she says, and with some help, she gets to her feet.
She realises, at some point, someone has removed her boots and socks. The bridge carpet is rough and it hurts but she isn’t sure why.
“Hurts,” she says.
“I know,” he tells her, walking her slowly over to the cubicle. “You can leave now Paris,” he says.
“Are you sure? I think I should stay.”
She can feel Chakotay tense up, just slightly, his arms tightening around her.
“You can leave now Paris,” he repeats.
“I am still here to supervise,” the Doctor chimes in from the view screen. Tom takes another look at his tricorder before nodding and leaving the bridge.
“Computer cut the connection to sickbay,” he says. The computer follows his command, the Doctor disappearing before he can protest.
“Thank you,” Kathryn says.
“Can you undress yourself?”
She nods, regretting it, whatever was in the hypospray is barely touching the sides and she still feels dizzy and burny and she’s not even sure that is a word. She tries to unzip her jacket but can’t quite coordinate both of her hands and huffs in annoyance.
“At least get me down to my underwear,” she says, and he nods, helping her out of the jacket.
“Sure.”
He smiles at her, reassuring her as best he can she supposes, but it doesn’t help. Not as his hands run up beneath her tank to pull it and the turtleneck off in one go. They skim her sides, slightly rough and she gasps not because it hurts but because it’s nice.
“Hurts,” she says, hoping it explains it.
“Sorry,” he says. He drops to her knees before her and she wants to groan at that mental image and it’s going to stay with her for years. He unzips her trousers, pulls them down and helps her raise each foot to step out of them.
Kathryn is suddenly aware that she’s standing in the middle of her bridge, in a matching set of midnight blue lace underwear with her stupidly handsome first officer.
“Nice underwear,” he mutters, then adds quickly, “Sorry.”
“My favourite,” she laments and he chuckles.
“I’m going to undo the catch at the back, and then you can do the rest yourself, okay?”
She wants to say no. She wants him to finish the job. Instead, she turns so he can unclip her bra before stepping into the cubicle.
Without Chakotay holding her up she wobbles and spins and falls into the side of the cubicle hitting on the start button as she does so. The sonic shower starts and she manages to hold her arms up for a few seconds and hold herself upright for a few more before slumping back against the wall of the cubicle for the rest of the cycle as it drums in her head.
When it’s done, a gown appears through the door, held by Chakotay and she manages to get it on and wrap it around her. She steps out and into his arms, without hesitation because she needs it. Needs him.
“Computer, two to beam directly to sickbay,” Chakotay says and Janeway manages to lean into his embrace and thank him before they’re transported to the Doctor.
Later, when repairs are complete and Kathryn is fully recovered from what the Doctor described as an exceptionally high dose of radiation and toxins – she was the closest to the breach she surmised – she’s finally able to get some rest. She’s skipped a couple of meals and running on adrenaline alone and is more than ready to sleep for at least 8 of the 24 hours the Doctor insisted she have off.
She manages a sandwich, well, half a sandwich and half a cup of coffee before she heads into her bedroom. She’s half asleep already, and her eyes are barely open but awake enough to notice the package on her bed.
It’s something wrapped in light blue tissue paper and white ribbon. She’s suspicious of things appearing in her quarters ever since Q appeared wanting to mate with her not long ago. Still, it doesn’t look dangerous and she opens it up to find a matching pair of midnight blue lace lingerie.
It’s almost an exact match.
She smiles, even as she knows she’s blushing bright red and picks up the note that’s fallen from the package.
“Feel free to model these properly for me – C.”
Still smiling, and a little more awake, she thinks she’ll take him up on his offer.