"Ten." Chakotay's expression was poised as usual, and his words, softly spoken. Only the slight twitch of one of Kathryn Janeway's fingers testified to the fact that he'd actually been heard. And though he punched dutifully at the central console, suggesting that he was running any number of diagnostic routines, the barely there hover of dimple suggested otherwise. 

"Six." This time his word was accompanied by a wicked side glance toward the captain, completely blowing his cover.  His eyes held gentle challenge. 

Kathryn returned his grin with one of her own; ruthlessly self-assured, confident of impending victory. The look was punctuated by the  swish of the turbo-lift's doors opening. "You owe me," she mouthed before smiling passed him toward her frazzled pilot. 

"Nice of you to grace us with your presence today, Mr. Paris," she said as he moved self-consciously toward his post. His expression of half-concealed confusion only added to her mirth. 

"Captain...I..." Tom stuttered, obviously missing something. He'd been certain he'd gotten to all the chronometers in his and B'Elanna's quarters that someone had mysteriously reset. Not to mention the various 'situations' that had arisen that morning. 

Kathryn Janeway laughed outright. "For the record," she glanced mildly toward the Talaxian who hovered near Ops on some esoteric mission involving morale and Mr. Kim, or so he said. "You had seconds to spare." Both Kim and Neelix had 'busted' written all of them. 

She turned in time to catch Tom's face light into a wide grin, cockiness back full-force. "Well, in that case, it is good to have me back, isn't it? Glad I could be of service," he tipped his head toward Ensign Kim. 

There was an abruptly aborted snicker, followed by the clearing of a throat somewhere near the aft section of the bridge that went largely ignored as the merriment was interrupted by the staccato beep of Voyager's warning system. 

"Report." Kathryn Janeway turned in her chair, command presence slid effortlessly to the fore. The abrupt changed was mirrored by the rest of the bridge crew. Duty called. Even Neelix made himself useful at one of the spare consoles. 

"It's a message beacon, Captain." Harry was the one who spoke. "The beacon appears to be damaged, but part of the message is salvageable. Audio-only." 

"Let's hear it," she ordered, spinning to face the view screen which displayed an ancient looking hunk of metal that had no doubt seen better days, none of them recent. It was obvious that something beyond the vacuum of space had gotten to the thing as tiny pock marks littered nearly every visible surface. 

Moments later static spilled onto the bridge, interrupting her visual study. Amidst the static a male voice could be heard. "...Come one, ..ome all....st... a great...illustri... Wat.......Trading post. Any and all of your ...eeds will be ...atisfied..."  A long series of beeps and squeals continued to pour from the speakers before the message began to repeat. 

"Could you get any more, Mr. Kim?" Janeway asked, wincing against one of the more piercing squeals. She waved a hand indicating that the volume be cut. Kim's hands fairly flew across his console as he manipulated his systems. Kathryn noted the way he suddenly perked up as if he'd found something interesting. 

"Don't keep us in suspense, Mr. Kim," she prompted. 

"I'm sorry, Captain. There was something encoded within the message. It took several cycles for the computer to get all of it. It's a series of co-ordinates. If this is correct, there should be a trading post .5 light years from our present position." 
 
"Are we picking up anything on sensors?" Kathryn turned toward the rest of her crew. 

"Those co-ordinates are on the outskirts of an asteroid field," Tuvok supplied. "There is no evidence that other vessels have passed along this route recently. As long range sensors have detected several inhabited planets within 20 light years beyond the asteroid field, may I suggest that this 'trading post' is perhaps situated on the outskirts of the territory?" 

"That's as reasonable a hypothesis as any, Mr. Tuvok," Janeway smiled. "Mr. Paris, set a course for the trading post."  She leaned toward her first officer. "You have the bridge." 

-- --

"Come in," she called, settling back in her chair. Her face spread into a wide grin at the figure that strolled into her ready room, obviously  working to maintain a stern expression. 

"I should have known," he said, handing her another PADD to add to the growing pile scattered over her desktop. 

"Should have known what?" she played along, laughing out loud when he rolled his eyes and headed for the replicator. 

"You should know the answer to that one," he tossed over his shoulder as he tapped in several codes. 

She went happily back to work, but couldn't hold back  one last barb. "If you're going to be cryptic, Commander, I'm afraid I'm going to have to --"  Her words were cut short by his startled exclamation. The tell-tell flashing indicator told the story. 

"Kathryn," Chakotay looked very sheepish. "Could I borrow a couple rations? It seems a certain lieutenant made it with seconds to spare." 

"Of course." She smiled sweetly and nodded her permission. Her eyes followed his motions as he punched in her code and waited for the food to appear. There was something missing. "Hey! Don't forget the other condition of the wager." Chakotay gave a long suffering sigh, but murmured softly into the replicator for the other item. 

Kathryn's smile lingered as she contemplated her desk and what to do with all those PADDs. She'd need them later, she decided and so slipped them into a lower drawer. When she looked up she was startled to find that not only had her first officer observed the stipulation that he serve her lunch wearing an apron, but he'd replicated one with the words 'Domestic Adonis' splashed across the front.  Kathryn barked with laughter as they sat down to eat. 

"So fill me in," she said, taking a bite of her sandwich. "What's the latest?" 

Chakotay grinned. "I think Neelix and Harry know that we know that they ran the Tardy Tom pool. Tom thinks Harry reset his clocks so he could win. Harry thinks it was Neelix. Neelix thinks it was Astley." 

"So did you find out who did it?" Kathryn asked. 

"Not yet," Chakotay said. "I'm closing in." 

"It was B'Elanna," Kathryn spilled the beans, laughing. "It was a complete accident!" 

"You're kidding!" Chakotay laughed. And so it went. 
 
Tuvok didn't interrupt for an entire fifteen minutes. 

"Janeway here." There was still a bit of laughter in her voice when she replied, as her first officer had taken the liberty of pointing out the fact. 

"Captain, we are approaching the trading post." 

"I'm on my way." 

Both senior officers entered the bridge and took their seats, sans apron. The view on the screen was at once arresting and serene. Along the outer edge of a large asteroid field sat a space station. It appeared to have been literally built into the rock of an asteroid that just hung in space, spinning slowly on an imaginary horizontal plane.  Smaller chunks of rock and dust floated around the dimly lit station, appearing to shimmer in an intricate dance. There was no way Voyager could get any closer to the post. 

Kathryn saw the immediate merit of the field -- it afforded an otherwise defenseless outpost a modicum of safety. No large ship would be able to enter the dancing asteroid field. And most smaller vessels would not have the capability to travel the necessary distance to mount an assault. As she watched the intricate dance of the flying boulders, she wondered if some of their motions weren't orchestrated by someone at the trading post. The boulders nearest Voyager appeared to be moving closer together in formation. 

"All stop." 

"Aye," Tom cut their forward momentum. 

"Hail them." 

"No response." 

Kathryn turned and gazed around the bridge. "That's a bit strange. A trading post that doesn't answer hails, and why aren't there any other ships here? What do our sensors tell us? Are there any lifesigns down there?" 

"There are 347 living organisms; insects, plants and creatures that appear to be pets not withstanding . That number is also comprised of 5 distinct varieties of humanoid. There is a sizable supply of dilithium as well as cardrillium, penterium and caskium. All are rare substances in this region of the delta quadrant." 

Kathryn rose to her feet as she contemplated how to proceed. Obviously Voyager wouldn't be making the trip beyond the asteroids. But the minerals and raw materials were too valuable to the ship's function to simply let pass, even in the face of sending members of her crew into such an uncertain situation. There was a reason first contact was said to be the most dangerous of space-faring situations. "Transporters?" 

"The asteroid field contains a substance that would make transporters unreliable," was Tuvok's dry reply. What else was new? she wondered. 

"Would this substance interfere with communicators?" Chakotay asked. 

"No, Commander," Tuvok replied. "Communications should be fully functional." 

Kathryn paced several more steps before coming to a stop near Chakotay. "Assemble your away team, Commander. I think it's time we say hello face to face. Our objective is trade, but be prepared for anything." She gave him a meaningful look before turning to face the view screen. 

 
---- 

"Take it easy, Mr. Paris." 

"What? I didn't scare you did I, Commander?" Tom's eyes remained fastened on the view screen, but there was definitely a smirk beneath his mask of concentration. 

"Not at all, Lieutenant. There are simply safer means of navigating an asteroid field." Chakotay shot the pilot a look. He knew that flying like this in an asteroid field was something many pilots longed to do, but it was his job to think about safety concerns -- even if he had complete faith in said pilot's abilities. 

Tom obviously saw things differently. "Since when did you get to be such a fuddy duddy?" His smile softened the words. 

"Since Captain Janeway will have my hide if I'm even remotely linked to another incident involving damage to her shuttle craft," Chakotay replied. "Not to mention a certain half Klingon who seems to be concerned for your welfare as well. No accounting for taste, I suppose." 

Tom chuckled. "Chakotay. You know what you need?" 

"Do I want to know?" Chakotay asked, almost afraid to ask. 

Tom smirked evilly. "A nice, long, slow, sweet -- " 

"Swim on the holodeck?" Chakotay filled in. He'd decided that he indeed didn't want to know what Paris had in mind. 

"Yes. That's exactly what I meant." Tom shot him a resigned glance. 

Chakotay cast a careful glance over his shoulder and hoped Ensigns Bluelock and Tanner had been as oblivious to the conversation as they appeared to be. Either way, the sensors beeped their proximity to the trading post asteroid making the point moot. The view screen was nearly filled with the image and details could be identified without the aid of magnification. Several biosphere's were scattered about the spinning asteroid, and what looked like docking bays were located all along the outer edges. 

"Take us in," Chakotay ordered, running another set of scans. Still nothing. This apparent lack of activity should have set all sorts of bells off in his mind, playing dead was not an usual tactical ploy; but it didn't. He wondered at that briefly and then pushed it aside. His gut had been known to be wrong. 

The docking bay was small and dark, and obviously had not received maintenance in the recent past. Bits of debris were scattered about the claustrophobic confines. There was barely room for the back hatch to swing open as four wrist lights cut through the darkness and fanned out. 

"There appears to be an opening here," Ensign Bluelock spoke. Chakotay could just make out the yellow of his uniform several yards away. Almost as if his breath had activated some mechanism, the 'door' swung open spilling pale yellow light into the bay. Only a drab corridor which extended in either direction lay beyond. 

"This way." Chakotay directed that they proceed in the general direction of the nearer biosphere. Tom followed, and the two security Ensigns brought up the rear. At the sound of rapid movement ahead, Chakotay raised a hand to signal a halt. He lifted his tricorder and extended it ahead of them, while the others searched behind and to the sides. Several minutes revealed nothing of concern. 

"Perhaps a small animal of some kind," he concluded. "Let's continue." 

The rest of the journey along the corridor was uneventful, but the readings of humanoid life forms grew nearer with each step. Finally they reached an entryway designed as a low arch. The mechanism that caused the door to slide completely shut was obviously jammed. A slim 3 inch section remained open, revealing an almost black surface beyond and what sounded suspiciously like music. 

Bluelock and Chakotay braced along one side of the wall and forced the doors apart. They discovered that the black surface was soft and thick, almost like wool and extended beyond the arch and along the wall. The humanoid figures appeared to still be several yards distant, so they spread out in search of the edge of the curtain, or at least an opening. 

Tom found it first; his find followed almost immediately by a scream. 

Chakotay was closer and arrived next. Security was fast on his heels. It seemed that they'd stumbled into the back-stage dressing room of what appeared to be this system's version of a burlesque show. One half-undressed, and completely angry alien female launched herself at Tom, meaty fists clenched for the attack. 

Chakotay quickly stepped between the pair, his hands raised, hoping to dilute the alien female's anger. Obviously quick stops weren't her forte, or grace for that matter. He saw her eyes register confusion and then surprise before first her fist and then her body slammed into him. They both went down in a clatter of tangled limbs, clothing and whatever female trappings happened to be in their path. 

The stunned woman came to her feet just as a crowd of other women rushed into the room. She babbled several words in quick, high-pitched succession before the universal translator caught up. The piercing shrieks were obviously an apology heavily intermingled with curses for being caught in J'grenda's dressing room. 

Chakotay gasped an apology of his own as his men helped him to his feet. He carefully removed the remainder of silky garments from his shoulders and introduced himself and his team and explained their mission. He found that he had to flex his jaw after speaking. That was really going to hurt later. 

J'grenda and the other women laughed among themselves. "There's another of those old beacons out there? I was sure the Craw had gotten to them all." 

"The Craw?" Chakotay asked. He was worried about the way they'd laughed. Could it be that this place was not a trading post after all? 

J'grenda bobbed her head in affirmation. "The Craw used to claim this sector - before they were defeated by  the Veiliens, that is.  Who, come to think of it I haven't seen for a while." J'grenda turned her bulky form and called to one of the other females. "Gertji? Have you seen that ambassador of yours lately?" 

"Not for at least 200 revolutions," was the call from the back of the room. Gertji, Chakotay noticed was changing from shimmering purple garb, to a translucent yellow garment. Several of the other females had gotten back to the business of dressing as well. He quickly averted his gaze. 

"Are your people open to trade?" Chakotay asked, eager to get out of the room. "We have a list materials that we'd find useful." 

J'grenda considered him for a moment. A look came over her face. "I'm sure something could be arranged. I'll take you to Tahill." She pulled on a floor-length cover up and led them toward a door. 

As Chakotay turned to urge his team to follow, he noticed that one of the women had sidled up to Tom. "Are you honor-bound?" he heard her softly spoken words. Tom lifted a hand to display the shiny gold band on his finger and explained its meaning. He then pointed toward the Commander. Chakotay couldn't make out his words, but the woman smiled broadly in his direction. Tom Paris was going to be very dead meat. 

---- 

"Chakotay to Janeway." 

"Go ahead, Commander." Kathryn Janeway sat up straighter in her seat. The commander was checking in, right on schedule. 

"I've spoken with a Tahill Gilagra who seems to be the mayor, for lack of a better word, of the people here. The main industry is entertainment, whole families are involved. They used to be a booming resort, but according to Gilagra, the majority of their clientele haven't visited in nearly a year and many of their systems have fallen into disrepair. He is willing to trade the ores we need for repair of their communications system, as well as the system that controlled the asteroid field. He feels that lack of advertisement will be the downfall of his 'town'." 

Kathryn could hear a bit of the suppressed humor in Chakotay's words. But she decided not to press. "Very good, Commander. Do I need to send B'Elanna down?" 

"No, Captain. That won't be necessary. It's a fairly simple system, I've got Paris on it now. I believe the two of us can probably take care of the problem. The broken link for the asteroid system is on one of the other stable asteroids in the field. You might want to put B'Elanna on that one. I'm sending the co-ordinates through now. Also, Captain, you should know that Gilagra suggested that we visit the Veilien home world. They seem to be the reigning power in this sector and have a large holding of mining operations that may suit our needs." 

"All right, Chakotay. Anything more?" 

"No, Ma'am. We should wrap this up as soon as we have the ores loaded on the shuttle. Chakotay out." 

---- 

Chakotay glanced at the chronometer readout on his tricorder. It was several hours into Beta shift, and though Kathryn had probably already had dinner, he decided to wait. B'Elanna had no doubt long completed the repairs on the asteroid system, but it was the people of what Tom had dubbed 'party town' that were slowing their progress. They broke into song and dance, as well as any other form of entertainment at the drop of a hat. That along with the fact that one purple-clad burlesque girl was after him led him to take a walk through one of the market areas with J'grenda while Tom finished the remaining communication panel in Tahill's personal control room. Bluelock and Tanner were enjoying a meal with said purple-clad lady. 

"That is an interesting marking," J'grenda commented making a gesture toward his face. He'd come to appreciate her brusque manner. She seemed to be one of the few on this rock who were willing to do anything in a reasonable amount of time. She handed him a drink from one of the stalls as she waited for his reply. 

"It is a mark of my people," he explained. She listened intently as he told the story behind it and of his father. When he was done she simply smiled and pointed to his other eye. 

"What of the other? Will it cause you trouble?" 

Chakotay frowned slightly, raising a hand gingerly to his face. He'd noticed the swelling earlier and dismissed it. After the way he'd fallen, it wasn't the only tender and/or swollen spot on his body. It had obviously darkened into a black eye.  "No," he said finally, offering a smile. No wonder Paris had smirked every time they were together. 

"Your honored-one will not mind?" she pressed. 

"I'm not honor-bound, J'grenda." He was sure she knew that from her associate's actions. 

"But you are intended?" she asked. "No one turns down Gr'rita. She is irresistible." She thought for a moment. "Unless you prefer... I could arrange...." 

Chakotay was hard pressed not to choke on his drink. "No," he said. "There is someone special." 

"Aaah," J'grenda smiled. "We get to the root of the matter. Tell me, Commander Chakotay, does she prefer delicate things?" 

"Pardon?" Chakotay wasn't sure what to make of that. Sure, the women here were all in excess of six feet, but he'd never have described himself as 'delicate'. 

"A gift for your someone special," J'grenda clarified. "Come, I will show you. But you must be able to give it to her within 2 and a half revolutions or it will no longer work completely. " 

Chakotay followed the towering woman and listened intently as she explained the workings of the device. She guaranteed it would draw him closer to his 'special someone'. 

When they returned, Tom had completed his assignment with Tahill. All that remained was to load the remainder of he ore. Many of the townspeople were very appreciative of the work that had been done in their behalf and so joined in the effort of loading the shuttle. That done, they insisted on seeing them off with a dance, a song and a round of a brewed beverage. Many followed them to the shuttle, singing loudly all the way. 

In spite of the prevalence of the party atmosphere, Chakotay was surprised to find that the landing bay lights were functioning, and that someone had even cleared away most of the debris. After many hugs and passing of the brew, they were on their way. Within minutes, thanks to a newly functioning asteroid control system, they were back onboard Voyager. 

Chakotay allowed the rest of the team to retire while he performed the post flight checks. He was sure Tanner and Bluelock would want some rest - Gr'rita was tiring just to look at, and no doubt Tom would want to be with his wife. That done, he moved stiffly along the corridor toward his quarters. 

Food was no longer a priority. It was near midnight. Kathryn was surely in bed, if not sleeping then pouring over some report or other. All his body craved was a steaming hot real-water shower. He peeled out of the shirt that seemed to be sticking to every painful point along his aching back, kicked off his boots and made a bee-line for the sink to splash cool water on his face. The 'shiner' over his right eyes was a doozy and by morning would only be worse. 

He sighed, he really should have the eye looked at. Pulling on a loose shirt, he headed out of the door. He'd taken several steps along the corridor when a flooding wave of exhaustion washed over him. The energy to confront the EMH evaporated. Maybe the black eye would keep till morning. He'd just have to go to sickbay before reporting to the bridge. Yeah, that was what he would do. It took his sluggish body several moments to actually get up the momentum to turn around and head back to his quarters. 
 
He was startled when someone suddenly stepped in his path. 

-- -- 

Kathryn Janeway was poised half out of her door. A quick smile flew into pace, but then died away as she got a good look at the man standing before her.  "Chakotay? What the hell happened down there?" 

Chakotay grinned weakly. "I was saving that part for the report." 

"Fascinating reading, I'm sure," Kathryn said with a wry grin. She pulled him into her quarters, he was obviously dead on his feet. "Sit," she ordered, moving several PADDs and her afghan out of the way. 

He obeyed, immediately sinking into the sofa with a bone-weary sigh. "You wouldn't believe these people Kathryn. Boundless energy for just about anything, and I do mean anything." 

"Oh, I want the story on that, Commander. But first tell me how my first officer ended up with a black eye on a routine trading mission. What did they do, wrestle you for it?" 

Chakotay laughed half-heartedly, then groaned. "Oh Kathryn, I hurt." 

"Tell Mama Janeway where," Kathryn said with a sympathetic tone. 

"Will you kiss it and make it all better?" he asked, shrugging the shirt off to show her the rest of his battle scars. 

"I think we should let the Doctor have that honor," she said, looking him over. A worried frown creased her brow and she looked at him more closely. "Chakotay?" 

Chakotay pouted in exaggerated disappointment as his eyes began to droop, he obviously hadn't heard her. He reached for a corner of her afghan and pulled it over himself like a small child. "Not leaving till you kiss it and make it better," he mumbled his voice had gone very soft, soft even for him. 

"Chakotay?" Kathryn called his name again, more firmly. "Maybe we should get you to sickbay." 

"Too tired," he slurred as his body began to slide sideways on her sofa. 

"Commander." No response. She sighed. "Janeway to Emergency Medical Hologram." 

"EMH here, how may I help you, Captain?" the Doctor's terse reply suggested that he had been otherwise occupied. 

"Doctor, report to my quarters. I'd like you to check on Commander Chakotay." 

"Of course, Captain." 

During the minute it took for the Doctor to arrive, she adjusted the commander's position on her sofa. The manner in which he'd slumped would probably only serve to exacerbate his injuries. 

The holographic doctor entered on her command and move immediately toward his patient. As she glanced around the room and noticed Chakotay's shirt on the floor near the sofa, and the way he lay beneath her afghan she felt doubly obliged to offer an explanation. "He's just returned from the away mission," she said. "I stepped out into the corridor and found him half-leaning against the wall and so brought him in here." 

The Doctor did not comment, but ran his tricorder over the unconscious figure. He made quick work of the black eye and other bruises along his back. "He's suffering from exhaustion and mild cranial trauma. I've injected him with a mild sedative, he should wake up with slight stiffness. Give him this," he handed her a hypo-spray. "He should be ready for duty in the morning." 

"Thank you, Doctor," Kathryn said. 

"Of course, Captain." He said and disappeared. 

It was all the things he hadn't said that told the story. If nothing else, the Doctor was the worse gossip on the ship. And as Tom Paris had a shift in sick-bay the next afternoon, she feared the worse. 

Looking back toward the sleeping man on her sofa she decided to leave him there. Alpha shift was coming very early in the morning unless she got some sleep. 

-- -- 

Chakotay opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was the coffee table. That wasn't his coffee table, or his pastel flower arrangement, or even his sofa for that matter, he thought, looking more closely at the surface beneath his face. He sat up quickly and caught sight of the shirt lying near his feet. The memory of precisely how he'd gotten there was a bit foggy, and the whir of the sonic shower was far from reassuring. He wondered if the prudent course of action would  be to just quietly leave. 

As he moved to stand, something poked into his leg. He shifted and reached into his pocket and pulled out a small rounded case. All of the memories flooded back. He almost chuckled as he realized he'd fallen asleep on the captain's sofa. He should have known better than to think anything else had occurred. 

"Good morning," a voice interrupted his contemplation of newfound memories. He startled slightly. 

"I'm sorry," Kathryn grinned, her robe wrapped tightly around her waist. "Here," she injected him with a hypo-spray. "The Doctor said that it will help the stiffness." 

Chakotay smiled his thanks. He had been a little stiff, although he might have attributed it more to sleeping on the sofa. He returned her morning greeting. 

"What do you have there?" Kathryn asked. 

He grinned. "It's a gift for you." 

"Oh really?"  Kathryn laughed. "What is it?" 

"Patience," Chakotay teased.  "First we have to imprint it. Make it yours." He smiled mischievously as he spoke. "Like this." He carefully placed the round case in the center of his palm. He then raised a brow questioningly as he reached for her hand. She offered it with a smile. He placed it over the case so that their hands completely enclosed the device. 

"Now, close your eyes. Breathe deeply." 

Kathryn looked at him mildly in askance but obeyed. 

There was a slight tingle in his palm. "It's done," he said. Kathryn took her palm away and rubbed it, she'd felt the tingle too. 

Chakotay smiled in reassurance. "That's just part of the imprint," he said. He gently separated the disk so that it formed two thinner disks and handed her one. "Blow on it. Like this." He demonstrated. As he did so a sparkling of lights appeared from the center of the disk and formed into the shape of a large winged butterfly. It's wings were colored in deep rich colors. The little visage flew before him, faint sparkles followed in its wake. 

"Oh, Chakotay," Kathryn breathed. "It's beautiful."  

Chakotay smiled. "Do yours." She did and another butterfly appeared, this one in gentler shades. Chakotay began to hum, and the little creatures appeared to move in time with the tune. Their butterflies danced and flitted around each other for several minutes before evaporating. 

Kathryn stood spellbound. "Chakotay, that was beautiful. I don't know what to say..." 

Chakotay didn't either. He suddenly felt self-conscious standing shirtless before his captain who herself was dressed only in a robe.  "You just blow on it to do it again," he stumbled slightly over the words as he slipped into his shirt and fumbled with the buttons. 

Kathryn smiled gently. "Thank you, Chakotay." 

"You're welcome." His hands stilled on the buttons. Their eyes locked briefly. "I should go," he said. 

"Yes," she nodded, then grinned wickedly. "If you hurry, I'll buy you breakfast. I know how ration-poor you are." 

"Has no one ever told you not to spend all your replicator rations in one place?" Chakotay asked. 

"If my calculations are correct, Commander, I seem to be spending them all on you." 

"And that's just as it should be," he smiled and moved through the door, laughing that he'd gotten the last word. 

He froze at the sound of a startled gasp. Ensign McNeill stood with both hands over her mouth as her eyes traveled over his sleep ruffled hair, the open shirt and his bare feet. One needed little imagination to know where her thoughts were going. Clearing his throat, he smiled a polite 'good morning', and headed for his quarters. He expected the worse. 

-- -- 

Kathryn Janeway sat hunched over her desk fiddling with the little disk Chakotay had given her. She'd run every analysis she could think of and still was no closer to figuring out how the thing worked. She wasn't sure whether to be perturbed or intrigued. Setting the index on the tricorder, she held the disk aloft and blew on it. Sure enough the little butterfly came out for a dance, its colors seemed slightly different each time. The tricorder registered nothing. 

"Come," she called at the chime at her door. It was time for her and Chakotay's daily lunch appointment. 

Chakotay came to an abrupt halt before continuing on into the room. "Less than one day and you're already trying to figure out what makes it tick?" His tone was mildly tolerant. 

"I'm a scientist Chakotay," she murmured. "It's what I do." 

"I'm a scientist, too, Kathryn," Chakotay said with a secretive smile. "But there are some things you can't see with the eyes of science." 

That got Kathryn's attention. "You know how it works, don't you?" she asked. 

"Guilty." 

"J'grenda told you didn't she?" Kathryn asked, her words accompanied a smirk. 

"That knowledge can be yours, for a price." He smiled, his eyes teasing unmercifully. 

"Name your price," Kathryn said. 

"Lunch. Apron of my choice." 

"You're far too easy, Commander," Kathryn shot back. "Okay, deal. Now spill it." 

Chakotay explained as he programmed the meal. "Have you ever blown soap bubbles?" 

"Of course," Kathryn nodded. She'd also analyzed why they remained intact, the ratio of pressures internal and external to the bubble and a hundred other details that would no doubt cause some to question her sanity. 

"The butterflies work on the same principle. There's a tiny device within the disk that has been imprinted with our DNA as well as a sample of our bio-chemical signatures. It uses those little bits of us and forms what for all intents and purposes equates to a bio-chemical soap bubble. When we blow on the surface, we provide the air. The sparkles represent the leaking air, our differing patterns provide the opposing charges to hold the form balanced enough to remain cohesive. When all of the air is spent, the image evaporates. That's why you weren't able to find anything with the tricorder, because all the materials the device uses are made up of molecular bits and pieces of you and I. It won't even work for anyone else." 

Kathryn sat back and crossed her arms. It was an incredibly simple principle, but how had they gotten  the bubble to remain cohesive with only air and bio-chemical substances? Where did it draw the energy from? How did it convert it? Did it convert it? Would it work for someone with a similar DNA pattern? She looked up as Chakotay cleared his throat, and gestured his head toward the finished replicator. 

Kathryn threw him a look but moved to get the food and the apron. "So fill me in, any news?" 

Chakotay shook his head, frustration creeping across his face. "Nothing. Not a whisper. It's almost as if it never happened." 

"Really?" Kathryn frowned placing the tray on the desk and going back for the apron. "How can that be with both the Doctor, Tom and Ensign McNeill in the know? It should have been all over the ship by the start of Alpha Shift." 

"I know," Chakotay agreed with a frown. "We were caught all but red-handed. I think this is going to take some more --" His frown spread into a wide grin when he caught sight of Kathryn Janeway in his apron. "May I?" he asked, nodding toward the words across the front. 

Kathryn looked down at the large black letters which read 'Kiss the Cook'. She grinned wickedly. "Be my guest, Commander. I'm of the belief that replicators are due affection, too."