B'Elanna was swiftly gathering up things in Kathryn Janeway's bathroom, "Oh and she'll probably need this, too." She handed an armful of articles to Kes who was shifting her weight trying to balance things.
"Do you think she'll ever forgive us?" Kes gave a quick glance at what was outside the bathroom interior.
"Well," B'Elanna sighed, she was tired and frustrated -- the Captain had fought them all the way. "At least she's sitting calmly and actually waiting for us to do her hair and replicate a new dress."
"Poor Doctor," Kes said glumly.
"Don't worry," B'Elanna tried not to grin, knowing that Kes had a sweet side for her mentor, "I'll delete his new, extra head from his image-programming before we leave." She had to hand it to the Captain, it was one of the more rather unique forms of vengeance she had seen any of the crew take out on the EMH.
They walked back out into the room and Kes continued packing Kathryn's things.
"Now then, Captain . . . er, would you mind if I called you 'Kathryn'?" The Captain's eyes shot daggers, and B'Elanna knew that she had already been compromised in several ways so she explained further, "Just since we'll be off-duty and amidst the crew."
Kathryn paused and thought for a moment, "I suppose that rank would only make me stand out more."
"That's one way of looking at it," B'Elanna said before turning Kathryn gently around, by the shoulders, to face her mirror's reflection at the vanity table. "Or, you might just want to be human tonight," she offered. She moved her hands up to start unpinning Kathryn's hair, but couldn't quite bring herself to touch the senior officer's tresses. "Uh, Captain . . . permission to . . . rearrange your hair?"
"Well, that's a first," Kathryn laughed. She threw up her hands, "I suppose so . . . . not like *I have an option here," she muttered calculating the amount of information she had for one of her personal private logs.
"Now, let's see what we have . . ." both Kes and B'Elanna gasped as Kathryn's hair unfolded out of the constraints of the bun, past her shoulders to the middle of her back.
"What!?" Kathryn was unnerved, she hadn't the faintest what was wrong with the two insubordinate women.
Kes rushed forward, "Captain! Your hair . . . it's . . ."
". . . Beautiful!" B'Elanna explained before grabbing a brush, noting that Kathryn was both fidgeting and blushing. 'Chakotay . . . you fool . . . you have no clue what you've gotten your heart into this time,' B'Elanna thought smugly to herself before combing Kathryn's long tresses into something that would make even Tom wish he had never been born to see Kathryn Janeway walk onto Barian Spacial Hub Three tonight.
Ten Minutes Later:
"What is it *now*?!" both of the Doctor's heads, that the Captain had 'given' him as repayment for her predicament, said in unison, as he came on the personal monitor's viewscreen. Both of the heads turned to look at each other, and said at the same time, "Shut up."
"She's locked herself in the bathroom," B'Elanna was pacing and growling. "All we did was put her in a dress . . ."
"I think it was the dress itself," Kes stated in the background.
"Well what was wrong with it," The Doctor was irritated by hearing his own voice -- wouldn't several of the crew members reveal in that tid-bit of a revelation. "Lieutenant can you PLEASE do something about," he raised both his arms and pointed at his two heads attached to his body, "THIS."
"Of course," B'Elanna was enjoying seeing the Doctor's 'humorous' condition but she understood that Kathryn Janeway was her first priority. A few minutes after taping into the EMH's programming she repaired the damage.
The Doctor sighed and patted around to make sure there was just the one head, "Thank you. Now . . . what was wrong with the clothes you replicated for the Captain that made her turn tail, run and seek refuge in her lavatory?"
"Captain . . .? Are you okay?" Kes questioned and gently knocked on the door in the background.
"I wouldn't really know. It's what any woman on this ship would die for," she ran her hand through her hair vigorously with frustration. "Here, I'll send you the schematics."
"The Captain is hardly 'any woman on this ship.'" The doctor's course of vision turned to a portable monitor sitting on his desk and his cheeks suddenly grew red, "Oh my." He cleared his throat and twiddled his fingers, "Well, I can't help you. Perhaps Mr. Tuvok would be the more - logical - solution. Goodnight!" And with that he disappeared.
"I want off . . . OFF this crazy Starfleet-house," B'Elanna growled.
CONTINUED IN PART 12!
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