Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager and all of its characters are the property of Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Based on a Real Life news story; even the names have not been changed (go here to see a reproduction of the original Yahoo article).  Naturally, Seema is the one who drew this to my attention.
Frogs
By Rocky
"And the river shall swarm with frogs, which shall go up and shall come into thy house, and into thy bedchamber, and upon thy bed, and into the house of thy servants, and upon thy people, and into thine ovens, and into thy kneading-troughs. Both upon thee, and upon thy people, and upon all thy servants shall the frogs come up."
Exodus 7:28-29

Commander Tom Paris felt the heat of the sun even before the transporter effect had finished. He smiled as he surveyed the lush tropical scenery. Off to his right, turquoise waves tumbled into shore, breaking into dazzling lazy patterns against the gleaming white sand. Verdant trees grew close to the water's edge, their branches laden with luscious-looking fruit. Flowers of every color and size seemed to be all over. The warm breeze carried their scents toward him, along with the calls of the exotic birds he could see against the deeply blue sky.

A shout echoed in the distance. "Tom!"

The commander's smile grew wider as he caught sight of the man hurrying toward him. "Harry!" He tapped his comm badge. "Paris to Atlantis."

"Go ahead, sir," said the Chief of Ops.

"Everything looks good planetside. Tell the Captain to proceed with the shore leave rotations. Paris out."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than Paris felt himself enveloped in  huge bear hug.

"Great to see you, Tom!" Harry Kim said, beaming. Although a little stockier than he'd been during his years in Starfleet, Harry looked very much the same as Tom remembered him. His smooth face was unlined, his dark hair untouched by any gray. The twinkle in his eyes, not to mention the excitement in his voice, were still those of the eager and enthusiastic ensign.

"And it's great to see you, too," Tom said, as a dark-haired beauty--whose sarong-style dress seemed to consist mostly of ropes of flowers--slipped a lei over his head. He hastily smoothed down his own thinning hair and took a healthy swig of the fruity drink a second woman pressed into his hand. "Whoa, that's got some kick!"

"Sorry," Harry said with an unrepentant grin. "I forgot you're still on duty."

"For another eighteen minutes, at any rate," Tom said, casting an appreciative glance at the rest of Harry's (entirely female) entourage and feeling sneakily grateful that B'Elanna hadn't beamed down with him. "You look like you're working pretty hard yourself, Mr. Mayor. I can see the stresses of leadership are really wearing you down."

Harry's smile wavered slightly. "Come on," he said, clapping his old friend on the shoulder. "Let's go back to the office and then we can talk."

Harry kept up a steady stream of conversation as they walked, pointing out various landmarks. "Ahead is the Tourist Information Center, right next to the gift shop. As you can see, we're in the process of expanding it. As it is, we were having trouble handling the volume of visitors..."

Tom craned his neck, but didn't notice any crowds. In fact, except for himself and Harry, the only other people appeared to be employees, dressed in what Tom quickly recognized as variations on the Mayor's floral print tunic (but skimpier in the case of the women). Even the pristine beaches had seemed pretty empty, now that he thought about it. Tom shrugged and emptied his glass. Most likely, everyone was indoors at this time of day--either to get out of the midday heat or to enjoy some more private forms of recreation.

Harry continued, "And do you see that mountain peak on your left? Projected site of the Annual Himalayan Giant Slalom Race."

"Uh, slalom as in skiing?" Tom wondered if he'd heard Harry correctly.

"That's right."

"Harry, do you think the climate is exactly conducive to--"

"Artificial snow," Harry said immediately.

Tom nodded. "I see." He opened his uniform jacket, cursing the Thermakeep (tm) fabric which, contrary to the manufacturer's claims, was not "equally suited to temperature ranges from 0 to 50C."

Tom breathed a sigh of relief when they entered the main administration building. It was good to be out of the sun, he thought, as he tossed his jacket onto the nearest surface and sank into an overstuffed sofa, luxuriating in the cool, conditioned air. As his eyes adjusted to the lower light, he accepted another one of those fruity drinks (this one a bright magenta instead of blue) and sighed in contentment.

"You've certainly done well for yourself, Harry," he said appreciatively, gesturing at the opulent surroundings, the lavish furnishings. A beautiful woven rug covered the marble floor. Exquisitely carved statues and elegant paintings graced the walls. "Some office--more like a palace, I'd say!" Tom closed his eyes for a moment and breathed deeply. Even indoors, he still could smell the flowers. He thought he could also detect a faint chiming sound, almost a hum in the background. It reminded him of a cross between windchimes and crickets, but more melodious.

"Will you or your guest require anything else, Mr. Mayor?"

"No, that will be all," Harry said. "Uh, on second thought, maybe something to eat."

The woman bowed her head, then glided gracefully out of the room. She was back almost immediately, along with another woman, both of them bearing large trays of finger sandwiches, little cakes and fruit. The servants deposited their burdens on the table and then retreated respectfully to a corner of the room.

"It's pretty ironic, when you think about it," Tom said, pouring himself another drink from the large frosted pitcher.

"What is?"

"That I'm the one who's stayed in Starfleet after all, while you opted for civilian life." Tom smiled fondly at an old memory. "Not quite how I would've pictured us ending up, back when we first met." He took another sip from his glass. "Well,  your career choice obviously agrees with you. You look great! I have to admit, I envy you, Harry, living in paradise all the time."

"It seemed like the right thing to do at the time--leaving Starfleet, I mean. After all, how much longer was I supposed to wait to finally be promoted?"

Tom had to admit his friend had a point.

"And I wouldn't quite call this paradise," Harry said as he perched somewhat uncomfortably on the arm of a chair. "There are certain difficul--"

"Harry, Harry, Harry," Tom said, shaking his head in disbelief. "What  kind of problems can you really have? Great climate, great scenery, great employees--" he winked suggestively. "Do you have any idea how lucky you are?"

Harry shifted uneasily. "And what about your life, Tom? You don't exactly have cause to complain. After all, you and B'Elanna are serving together on the same ship, first officer and chief engineer, it can't get much better than that."

Tom laughed. "You've got a point, but it's still nice to visit paradise occasionally. I can't tell you how glad  I was to get your 'distress call'--I guess old habits die hard, you still feel compelled to do things by the book--but it's really nice of you to figure out a way to get me here with such an excuse." Tom stretched luxuriously and took another drink. A pleasant buzz was already going through his limbs and he felt great. "Yeah, I think Captain Sayars did see through the ruse. He wasn't averse to his crew getting a little R&R on a beautiful planet, though. I see what you mean now when you described it as similar to Risa. I really hope the word doesn't get out because then everyone will know about it and this paradise will be spoiled--"

Harry interrupted. "R & R?"

Tom gave him a puzzled look as he reached for a piece of fruit that resembled a cross between a mango and a strawberry. "Sure. As we speak, the crew of the Atlantis is beaming down for shore leave."

Harry grabbed Tom's arm. "You've got to contact them right away," he said, his tone panicky. "Tell them not to come!"

"Relax, Harry," Tom said, attempting to disentangle himself from Harry's grasp. "It's okay, no one's going to get into any trouble--"

"You don't understand," Harry said in a strangled voice. "I really did request help from Starfleet, this is no ruse."

"Really?" Tom said in surprise.

One of the women had moved closer during Harry's last speech and begun rubbing the Mayor's shoulders. "Yes," Tom said dryly, "I can see how much you're suffering here."

Harry waved the woman off with a quick jerk of his head. "Tom," he said earnestly, "I need your help. I called you specifically because you've got a ship at your disposal."

"If it's official Starfleet help you wanted," Tom said, not bothering to keep the sarcastic tone out of his voice, "why didn't you just contact Admiral Janeway?"

"The Admiral is on her honeymoon and I didn't want to disturb her."

"Seems to me like Janeway wouldn't have minded combining business and pleasure," Tom muttered. Aloud, he said, "OK, what's the problem?"

Harry pointed at the floor. "There."

Tom craned his neck but didn't see anything on the painted tiles at first. After a few seconds, he noticed a tiny frog, its irridescent skin a greenish gold. It wasn't much bigger than Tom's pinkie finger. "You mean that?"

"Yes, that," Harry said flatly.  "The entire planet of Tropicana has been overrun with those shrieking frogs."

 "Shrieking? Uh, I don't hear anything," Tom said, staring hard at the frog and feeling foolish. The only sound was the chimes in the distance he'd noted before. "Wait, you mean that faint humming sound?"

"During the day it's a background hum, rather pleasant on the whole, but as the sun goes down the volume increases," Harry said, wincing at the memory. "The biologists think it's their mating call. The frogs are not native species to this planet and have quickly increased in number and now they're everywhere! Inside pots, under the table, beds, cushions -- you name it. We can't keep them from getting indoors. Not only is the noise getting absolutely unbearable, but they are a menace as well."

Tom couldn't help but think Harry was overreacting, at least a little. "They're actually kind of cute." Tom leaned forward and poked at the frog, then yelped as it suddenly leaped up into his face. "Ow! It bit me!"

"Yeah, they do that, too," Harry said. "I told you they were a menace!"

Rubbing his nose gingerly, Tom looked around carefully and noticed more frogs nearby, on the floor, the table (one was munching away at the fruit Tom had dropped) and some on the cushion. All of them made a steady chirping sound as they stared at him with their beady little eyes. He hastily stood. "Uh, I guess I can see your point."

Harry sighed. "You don't know the half of it.  Wait until sunset. That's when their volume really increases."

Tom, now recovered, smiled. "Come on, Harry, I'm sure it can't be as bad as you say"

"It's worse."

"You always did have a tendency to exaggerate."

Harry made an exasperated sound deep in his throat. "Well, regardless, I need your help! These frogs are making life unbearable for everyone!"

"Have you tried trapping them?"

"Yes."

"And what about--"

"Did that."

"Or--"

"We did that, too," Harry said, sounding more desperate than before. "Believe me, we've tried everything we can think of, but there are just too many of them. They breed rapidly, worse than tribbles. No sooner do we manage to get rid of one, than it seems another ten take its place!"

"Well, what do you expect me to do?" Tom said in his most reasonable voice.

"You've got a starship, Tom. Resources that a planet, especially one as non-industrial as Tropicana, can't even begin to imagine."

"What did you have in mind?" Tom said with a sigh.

Harry leaned forward intently. "How about a photon torpedo?"

"A pho--that would make your city uninhabitable, Harry."

"I've got news for you, Tom, it already is uninhabitable because of these stupid frogs!"

"I don't think Captain Sayars would approve the use of photon torpedoes," Tom said. He couldn't help thinking that Janeway on the other hand...Aloud, he hastily added, "Look, I'll let him know the situation, OK? But I'm not making any promises."

Harry nodded, clearly relieved. "And don't forget to tell him about canceling shore leave, too."

"No problemo," Tom reassured him. "I'll get on that right away. Uh, Harry?"

The Mayor was absorbed in looking out the window. "The sun is beginning to set," Harry announced in a voice that would not have been inappropriate for an impending Borg invasion. "We're doomed."

"Doomed?" Tom asked.

"You'll see," Harry said. "Any minute now."

"Maybe I should return to the ship--"

"No!" Harry grabbed Tom again. "Please don't abandon me, Tom! I need you!" At Tom's pointed look, Harry let go. "Please," Harry said again, more calmly this time. "Send the rest of your crew back, but you have to stay and help me."

How could he resist such a heartfelt entreaty? "All right," Tom said with another sigh. "I guess it's the least I can do."

"Thanks, Tom. I owe you one."

"What are friends for?" Tom said with a smile, and sincerely hoped Harry had been exaggerating the extent of the problem.

Unfortunately, Harry's pronouncement of doom turned out to be an understatement. In the time it took to walk to his guest quarters, the noise had risen to such a crescendo Tom couldn't  hear himself think. He clapped his hands over his ears.

On the bright side, the crew members who had beamed down earlier in the day returned to the ship without complaint. Tom breathed a sigh of relief at his orders being obeyed; he'd been expecting at least a little resistance. His relief was short-lived, however.

"What do you mean, no one wanted to stay on the planet surface overnight anyway?" he demanded indignantly.

"Sorry, Commander," Lieutenant Sheppard, of the beta shift, said. "That's what I was told. And, Captain Sayars would like to speak to you."

Tom's heart was instantly in his throat, but he strove to keep his voice steady. "Yes, Captain?"

Sayars wasted no time beating around the bush. "Commander Paris, what the hell is going on down there? What's this I hear about freaking hogs?"

"It's frogs, sir," Tom began, steeling himself. "Shrieking alien frogs who appear to have invaded the native ecosystem, and uh, are making life miserable for everyone here--"

The Captain was not amused. "I thought you said everything was under control!"

"It is! I mean, it was! There was no indication of any problem whatsoever when I beamed down--"

"Despite the fact that the ship was allegedly responding to a distress call?"

Tom groaned. "Yes, sir. You see--"

"Never mind," Sayars cut in sharply. "You handle it from your end, and we'll see what we can do from ours. And Commander," he paused ominously.

"Yes, sir?"

"When you return to the ship tomorrow morning, I want to see you in my Ready Room. Immediately. Understood?"

Tom gulped. "Yes, sir."

"Sayars out."

His comm badge immediately chirped again. "Paris here," he said, wondering if the Captain had changed his mind and decided to chew him out sooner rather than later. Belatedly, he realized it wasn't his badge, but the console on the side table. Fumbling a bit, he closed the contact.

"Well?" said Harry, speaking loudly to be heard over the frogs. "Did you talk to your ship? What did your captain say?"

"All of the other crew members have returned to Atlantis," Tom said, figuring he'd give Harry the good news first. "Except me. Captain Sayars agreed to let me stay and assist you and your people."

"And your ship?"

"They're working on coming up with a solution as well."

"Good. What about the torpedo?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Uh, I didn't ask."

"Why not?" demanded Harry.

Tom held up his hands. "It just didn't seem like the right time, OK? I promise you, Harry, we will come up with a solution."

Harry eyed him dubiously. "I hope so." He ended the transmission abruptly.

Tom collapsed on the satin coverlet of the king size bed (disturbing an indignant frog or two in the process) and cursed the day he was born.

Midway through a very long and miserable night, Tom had given up any attempt at sleep. He'd tried pulling his pillow over his head, tried turning up the fan to create white noise, tried playing music full blast. Nothing helped. The persistent shrieking could not be drowned out. The thought of beaming back up to the ship--and his very quiet cabin--was an attractive one, but was cancelled out by the thought of running into Captain Sayars. Somehow, Tom didn't think his commanding officer would be very happy to see him. And anyway, he couldn't abandon Harry; he'd given his word he'd help.

Sighing wearily, Tom swung his legs out of bed and then stopped short. Carefully, he picked up his slippers and then shook each one vigorously. When no frogs came tumbling out, he put them on, and made his way over to the computer, thinking to pass the time by doing a little research. Kill two birds--or amphibians--with one stone.

But it was no use. He scrolled through page after page of news reports and data dealing with the frogs, which had appeared suddenly on Tropicana a few short weeks ago. Harry hadn't been kidding--he and his people really had tried just about everything short of lethal force to remove the pests or at least get them to be quiet. Contraceptive sprays, recorded predator growls...Tom rubbed his eyes and stared at the screen; he could have sworn the words ran together fuzzily and began to hop around the screen. But it was no use. Either the noise was interfering with his powers of concentration, or he was just too sleepy.

He was very glad when the first streaks of pink appeared in the sky, heralding the beginning of a new day. Almost immediately, the noise of the frogs began to recede into the background. Tom gave thanks to every deity he could think of. He ran his hand over the stubble on his chin. First order of business was clearly to shave and shower and make himself presentable, then meet with some of the scientists assigned to the problem.

He sat down on the edge of the bed preparatory to shedding his pajamas. The fluffy pillows and mattress looked incredibly inviting...Tom felt himself slumping over. Must get up, he thought. But he was so exhausted. Maybe he'd just lie there for a few minutes...

The native serving woman reached over and stroked Tom's face. "Tom," she said softly. "I want you."

Tom sighed pleasurably at her touch. "Oh, yes, baby, do that again." He inhaled her sweet perfume, saw the promise in her dark eyes as she leaned even closer, felt her warm breath on his neck. Her full voluptuous lips parted...

"TOM!"

Tom came suddenly awake at the ear-splitting shriek, a bit disconcerted to see the serving woman's features replaced by his wife's. "B'Elanna! What are you doing here?"

B'Elanna folded her arms across her chest. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Uh, nothing," Tom said. "I mean, I'm glad you were able to join me for leave after all."

"For your information," B'Elanna said, "All shore leave has been suspended because of the situation."

Tom leaped up, heedless of any frogs underfoot. "Why wasn't I informed, what's going on--"

"Relax," B'Elanna said, holding up her hand. "All communications with Atlantis have been disrupted. It appears some frogs beamed back up with returning crew members yesterday and got into the ship's systems via the ventilation shafts and Jefferies tubes. And because it's always 'night' on the ship--biosciences think they're sensitive to certain wavelengths or amounts of light--the little p'taqs have been shrieking non-stop."

Tom groaned and began struggling into his clothes. "Sayars is going to have my head for this! I'd better beam up right away. Say goodbye to Harry for me, all right?"

"You don't understand. The transporters have also been affected. Which is why," B'Elanna continued, "I'm also stuck on the planet now--in fact, it was when I was trying to beam back up after the initial reports of problems that they discovered just how widespread it is."

Tom finished pulling on his boots. "What about shuttlecraft?"

"The captain has ordered all transport to and from the planet, of any kind, suspended as well because he doesn't want to bring any more frogs on board."

Tom frowned. "Then what are we supposed to do?"

B'Elanna's frustration clearly matched his own. "According to the captain," B'Elanna said with an edge in her voice, "you're supposed to come up with a solution. And the sooner the better."

Eight hours later, Tom felt as though he had plumbed the depths of frustration like they had never been plumbed before. A quick glance at his companions told him he was far from the only one.

Harry had not stopped pacing. His hair stood up in odd peaks, from his incessant clutching at it. Tom had at first been fascinated, having never seen anyone literally tear their hair out before, and then horrified. He patted his own ever-receding blond locks anxiously, to reassure himself there was still plenty left.

B'Elanna had long since run out of Klingon invectives and had switched to other languages. Apparently, K'Pasa, the Tropicanian Minister of Science, understood Rigellian, as he winced every time B'Elanna muttered under her breath.

"I think maybe we should take a little break," Tom said finally. "We've been at this most of the day and it's obvious we're not getting anywhere."

"Break? Are you kidding?" Harry said.

"Don't you see what time it is?" demanded B'Elanna, sweeping her arm toward the sky, clearly visible from the open veranda.

"Uh, late afternoon?"

"Exactly," B'Elanna said. "Which means it will be sunset in a little over two hours." She turned to the Minister for confirmation. K'Pasa shrank away but nodded vigorously.

"So?"

"So that means it will be dark." At Tom's blank stare, she added, "Do you want to spend another night here with those frogs?"

Tom shuddered involuntarily. "You've got a point."

B'Elanna suddenly gasped. "I just had an idea. What if you tried generating a wavelength of light energy that matches--"

"Did that," Harry said.

"And what happened?"

"It only made things worse," K'Pasa said timidly. "The change made the frogs think it was nighttime."

B'Elanna looked disappointed.

"We've tried everything," Harry said. "Even stunning them with phasers."

"And?"

"No dice. It doesn't knock them out, just makes them hum louder and more frantically," Harry said with a sigh. "Besides, there are just too many of them to do one at a time without being swarmed by the others."

"What about a wide dispersal beam?" B'Elanna said. "To cover a specific area?"

"That just knocked out any nearby people as well." Harry buried his face in his hands. "We're desperate, I tell you. Nothing seems to work."

Tom stood up. "Desperate times call for desperate measures." He paused, aware of the serious ramifications of what he was about to say. "What about killing them?"

"Tom," B'Elanna said sharply. "A wide dispersal killing beam is a really bad idea."

"I know that!" Tom shouted. Forcing himself to calm down, he said, "What about poison?"

"Poison," B'Elanna said in disbelief. "Kahless, it sounds like a military campaign."

"Well, isn't it?" Tom asked.

"Let me remind you these problematic species are accidental tourists stranded in a strange land," B'Elanna said. She made another sweeping gesture. "We're the ones who carry them around and dump them where they can cause problems. Frogs do not plot invasions."

"Look around you, sweetheart," Tom said, not bothering to keep the sarcasm out of his voice as he brushed a frog off his chair before sitting down once more. "We've been invaded all right."
 
K'Pasa cleared his throat. "Why can't you just beam them into space?"

"There's an idea," Harry said excitedly. "Our transporter technology is too limited to handle such a large volume at once, but it would be easy for a starship!"

"Starfleet specifically prohibits that type of action," B'Elanna pointed out. "I can't believe you've forgotten that, Harry."

Harry looked disappointed. "It does?"

"Ever since the Dispossessed Lifeforms Act of 2267."

"The what?" Tom and Harry said together.

B'Elanna sighed. "A little more than one hundred years ago, a Klingon vessel under Koloth's command spaced an entire shipload of tribbles in a sector near Federation Station K-7. The animal rights activists got into the act and a big stink ensued...it nearly derailed the entire Organian-brokered peace treaty between the Federation and the Klingon Empire."

"So that's out," Tom said. A quick look at the horizon showed the sun was rapidly sinking. "Maybe we can  use the transporter to round them all up in a confined space?"

"Where would you put them?" Harry asked. "The local jail? I don't think we've got anything that would be capable of holding them."

"It's a moot point," B'Elanna said. "We haven't been able to communicate with the Atlantis all day, and last we heard, the ship's transporters weren't functioning anyway."

"Too bad we can't just communicate with the frogs and ask them nicely to go away and stop bothering us," Tom muttered.

"Say that again," B'Elanna said urgently.

"Huh? I said, uh, too bad we can't just communicate with the frogs--"

"That's it!" B'Elanna yelled. "Tom, you're a genius!"

"I am?"

"What do you mean, communicate with them?" asked Harry. "B'Elanna, they're frogs."

"We can still try," she said stubbornly.

"How?"

"Tom, give me your comm badge," B'Elanna said, already pulling off her own.

"But you just said we can't raise the ship--" Harry said.

"The subspace radio doesn't work, but these comm units have another function as well." B'Elanna had eased the casings off and was manipulating the delicate circuitry inside.

"The Universal Translator," Harry said. "I got it."

"Well, I don't get it," said Tom. "Could somebody please explain?"

"Haven't you noticed that in their more quiescent phase, the frogs' call sounds like a musical instrument?" B'Elanna said.

"I thought it was windchimes, when I first beamed down," Tom said, nodding.

"Well, the frequency of their call, when treated like musical notes and run through the Universal Translator, should turn into intelligibile words." B'Elanna straightened up, and aimed her makeshift device at the nearest frog. "Can you understand me?"

"Yes," said the frog. "More to the point, can you understand me?"

"I think it's working!" Tom said, excitedly.

"Of course it's working," Harry said, punching him in the arm. "Now, shh."

B'Elanna and the frog were engaged in a rapid-fire conversation, with another frog or two occasionally chiming in. "Amazing!" she said.

"What's amazing?" Tom asked. "Have they told you why they're driving us crazy--I mean, what their problem is?"

"The frogs--they call themselves Caecilians--are actually a sentient, humanoid species who have undergone a radical change when they were subjected to this planet's atmosphere," B'Elanna said excitedly.

"It could have been the space flight," said the frog.

"Or perhaps it was caused by a superior being as a punishment or a test," said another.

"Either way," Harry said hastily, "if you know the cause, do you also know the remedy?"

"Of course," said first frog. "It's simple."

"And?" said Harry, scarcely able to contain his excitement. "What is it?"

"A kiss," said the frog.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding!" Tom blurted out. "A kiss? Seriously? And that will restore you to your original form?"

"Yes," said the frog. "But not just by anyone." He turned to B'Elanna expectantly.

"Oh no, you don't," she said, backing away. "Find someone else."

"Come on, B'Elanna, you're a member of Starfleet," Harry pleaded. "You've had to do lots of unpleasant things in the line of duty."

"That doesn't mean I want to do this one!" B'Elanna shot back. "Why does it have to be me?"

"You're a female," said the frog.

"See?" said Harry, as if that settled the matter.

"This planet is absolutely crawling with half-naked females!" B'Elanna said angrily. "Call one of them to come in here and do it!"

"But you're here now," Harry said. "In the time it would take to have someone else brought in, the sun will have set!"

"Time is of the essence," agreed K'Pasa.

"Be quiet, you!" B'Elanna said and turned to her husband. "Tom, surely you don't expect me to kiss a slimy frog?"

"I can't say I'm crazy about the idea," Tom said slowly, "but I don't see another way out of this."

"Fine. I'm doing this under protest, have I made myself clear?"

"Perfectly," said Harry. "Now kiss the frog!"

Her face screwed up in distaste, B'Elanna lifted the frog near her face.

"Just think of it as another First Contact situation. Or maybe as just another variety of gagh," whispered Tom helpfully.

Suddenly, there was a flash of light. When their dazzled vision cleared, a tall, golden-skinned, golden-haired man was standing before them. A tall, golden-skinned naked man, who was breathtakingly handsome. "Thank you," he said.

"It worked!" Harry said delightedly. "It really worked!"

Tom strode forward and grabbed B'Elanna's shoulders. "Are you all right?" he asked his wife, who had a somewhat dazed look on her face.

"I...think so," she said, somewhat dreamily, as she stared at the golden man.

"B'Elanna?" Tom said, worried at the blank expression on her face. He turned toward K'Pasa. "Have you got a tricorder?"

K'Pasa held up the instrument and cocked it toward the former frog. "Interesting," he said. "I would have thought you'd turn out to be reptilian, but you're definitely humanoid--closely related to the Salamandrians of Eryops Prime, unless I miss my guess."

"They're close cousins," the golden man told him. "And by the way, my name is Bufo."

"What about B'Elanna?" Tom demanded. "It's like she's in a trance or something. What's wrong with her?"

"I think it was the, uh, slime, coating the frog epidermis," K'Pasa said. "It's a complicated protein-based--"

"Poison?" asked Tom, fearing the worse.

"No, actually, it's an aphrodisiac," Bufo said. He took B'Elanna's hands in his and looked deeply into her eyes. "Thank you, once more, for saving me--and by extension, my people. Your heroic act will never be forgotten."

"My pleasure," B'Elanna said, clearly smitten.

"Hey!" Tom said, feeling faintly jealous. He pulled her away.

"What about the rest of your people?" Harry asked. "Do we have to kiss each one of them, too? There must be millions of them!"

"Four point thirty six million, at last count," K'Pasa said helpfully.

"No need," said Bufo. "We'll be able to take care of the rest of our people ourselves." He paused. "Well, perhaps one of your males could kiss a female. Just to get the whole thing jump-started."

"OK," Tom said, squaring his shoulders. "I'm ready."

"Tom," said Harry, "you don't have to--"

"No, no, Harry," Tom said firmly. "It's my duty as a Starfleet officer." He bent down and picked up a frog. "Shall I?"

"That's Ramses--he's male," Bufo said.

"Sorry." Tom picked up another frog, and at Bufo's nod, puckered up. One blinding flash of light later, and an equally beautiful golden-haired, golden skinned (and nude) woman stood where the frog had been.

"Whoa," Tom said, feeling unexpectedly dizzy.

The golden woman smiled at him. "I'm Gila," she said in a throaty whisper. Tom smiled back, a sudden warmth cascading through his body.

"Tom!" said B'Elanna, clearly fully recovered from her ordeal. She looped her arm possessively through his. "Are you all right?"

"Come on," said Harry, ushering them inside. "Let's give our guests a little space while they finish their transformations." Behind them, a series of flashing lights indicated the procedure was rapidly occurring.

"I'm so glad we managed to have a few days of shore leave after all," B'Elanna said as they were settling back into their cabin aboard the Atlantis.

"Especially you--you deserved it for all the hard work you put in," Tom said, putting his arms around her.

"I hardly did anything," B'Elanna protested. "All the repairs to the ship's systems occurred while I was down on the planet." She gave a self-deprecating laugh. "Some chief engineer, lazing on the beach while my staff was working round the clock."

"You put in plenty of time with your engines," Tom said. "Ever since we took this posting you've been working such long hours, I hardly get a chance to see you."

"Like you don't work equally hard? It sometimes seems like the first officer never goes off duty; there's always a crisis for you to deal with."

"But that's why they pay me the big bucks," Tom said with a smile. "Besides, I was referring to the hard work you did down on the planet, with the Caecilians."

"That was nothing," B'Elanna said. "Once it occurred to me to try the Universal Translator, the rest was easy." She gave him a sidelong glance. "Unless you're referring to my kissing Bufo."

"That was going above and beyond the call of duty, wouldn't you say?"

"Believe me, it was no hardship."

"I was afraid you'd say that," Tom grumbled.

B'Elanna swatted his arm none too lightly. "I'd say the grounds for jealousy work both way, FlyBoy."

Tom had the grace to look embarrassed.

"Besides," B'Elanna continued. "I really was the most qualified for the job."

"How so?"

"Well," B'Elanna said softly. "I certainly kissed my share of frogs before I found my prince."

"You certainly did," Tom said, as he took her in his arms once more. "I'd say it's a happy ending all around."
FINIS

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