ugly bag of mostly voyager

“Computer, freeze program!”

As the computer chirped obligingly, she realised her mouth was hanging open and closed it with a snap. Her hands went automatically to her hips as she stared at the unbelievable sight before her.

“Well, Commander,” she muttered, fighting the blush that rose up from her collar, “there’d better be a damn good reason why you’re naked in my bed.”

All she’d wanted was a few hours of escapism on the holodeck. It had been weeks since she’d had any downtime, and when she’d overhead Harry and Neelix whispering in the mess hall about the mysterious new program B’Elanna had unearthed, her curiosity had got the better of her.

She’d played out the astonishing scenario – a Starfleet security ensign caught up in a Maquis mutiny; who on earth dreamed these things up? – and had really started to get into the spirit of it, defecting to the mutineers, dressing up in leathers and gleefully blasting a holo-phaser at her frowning, uniformed doppelganger.

But the story had taken an unexpected turn when she’d started fidgeting during a dull shift on the holo-bridge and decided to sneak around a little. The lure of her own quarters was irresistible – had the anonymous programmer of this little tale got them right? And if so, how did he or she know? – so she’d let herself into the darkened cabin and headed straight for her bedroom.

And that’s when she saw him.

Sprawled on her bed, one arm flung across his eyes, the sheet rumpled low enough on his hips that it was clear he wasn’t wearing a shred of clothing beneath it.

Her heart pounded as her gaze travelled over the well-defined arms, the smooth, broad expanse of chest, the flat stomach, the barely-visible V of his hips…

Horrified at herself, she ordered the holodeck to pause the program.

Then she got angry. So Chakotay had seen fit to commandeer her quarters, had he? How dare he! She was building up a full head of steam before she realised she was being ridiculous. The real Chakotay would never mutiny – he’d space himself first – and he’d certainly never make himself at home in her bed.

Ignoring the twinge of excitement at that thought, she refocused her anger. Whoever had programmed this appalling breach of propriety would have hell to pay! Just as soon as she figured out who it was.

And as yet, she didn’t have enough information to pinpoint the culprit. If she wanted to identify them, there was nothing else for it. She’d have to play out the whole scenario.

Gritting her teeth, Kathryn uttered, “Computer, resume.”

As soon as she spoke, the holo-Chakotay in her bed stirred. Kathryn cleared her throat.

His eyes shot open and his hand dived under the pillow, coming out clutching a phaser. Springing to his feet beside the bed, he growled, “What the hell are you doing in here?”

Despite herself she backed up a step, hands held up in appeasement as she tried desperately not to let her gaze drop below his face. “Whoa, easy there, Comm- er, Captain. I come in peace.”

He sized her up, clearly decided she wasn’t a threat and tossed the phaser on the bed, folding his arms. “You’ll forgive me for being suspicious. It wasn’t so long ago that you were on the wrong side, Ensign.”

“Yes, well,” she tried not to stammer, “I’ve seen the light.”

“Apparently so.” His gaze was raking her from head to foot. “The leathers suit you.”

She coughed nervously as he took another step toward her. “I’m going to need you to put on some clothes before you say anything else. Please. Sir,” she added hastily.

The real Chakotay’s smile had never been so dirty, she was sure, as he moved closer still. She tried to back up and found herself pressed against her closet door.

“What,” she swallowed, “what are you doing?”

His breath brushed her ear as he leaned in to whisper, “If you want me to get dressed, you’ll need to let me open that closet.”

“Huh?” He was so close she could feel the heat from his body. His very warm, very naked body, which was very close to coming into full, delicious contact with hers.

That grin split his face again. “My clothes are in the closet behind you.”

“Oh!” Mortified, she ducked under his arm. “Sorry.”

She turned her back until she heard him say, “All right, Ensign, I’m decent.”

“Barely,” she muttered as she turned to find that he’d pulled on a pair of low-slung sweat pants and nothing else.

“So.” He leaned a hip against her nightstand. “What’s so important that you had to come disturb me in my bed?”

“I was…” oh, hell, where was a good excuse when she needed one? “… doing the security rounds? Um, to check for Starfleet booby traps.”

“Very enterprising of you,” he said, his eyes narrowed with appreciation.

“I have my moments.”

“And did you find what you were looking for?”

The real Chakotay’s eyes would never burn into her like this. Oh, sure, she’d always known he was no stranger to flirtation. But this brazen interest was something new.

And the effect it had on her was disturbing. She found herself jutting out a hip, her voice dipping to a low purr. “That depends on what you’d consider a booby-trap.”

He gave her a slow, dimpled smile and pushed off the nightstand, his stride smooth as he stepped toward her. “Maybe we should conduct a thorough inspection.”

The backs of her knees came in contact with the bed. “Commander –”

“It’s Captain now, remember?” he said silkily, reaching for her hand. The pad of his thumb glided over her knuckles and along her wrist and she stared down at it, her lower lip caught between her teeth.

“Right,” she mumbled. “Captain.”

Because of course, this wasn’t the real Chakotay…

 He bent his head and she felt his lips move softly along her hairline and down over her temple, her cheekbone …

Oh, no, she thought as his mouth touched hers. No, no, no, this is wrong…

“Stop thinking,” he murmured against her lips.

He’s just a hologram, the devil whispered to her. The real Chakotay will never know. And it’s only for a moment…

She wound her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to his.

His hands stroked down her back, pulling her hips against him, and she choked back a sigh as she wound her fingers into his hair. God, the thrill of feeling his body against hers, even if it was only a simulation…

A very realistic, very arousing simulation, she realised, feeling the evidence of it pressing against her pubic bone. Perhaps a little too realistic…

Breaking the kiss, she pushed him backward and scooted out of his reach, running shaky fingers through her hair.

“Excuse me, Captain,” she said breathily, “but I think this inspection is over. Computer, exit!”

As she beat a hasty retreat out of the holodeck and into the corridor, she sent a silent thank you to the mysterious creator of this program, while simultaneously vowing to sentence them to a lifetime of cleaning the exhaust manifolds if ever she discovered their identity.

Left alone, the Maquis captain slumped onto the bed to catch his breath. After a minute he stood, shucked the sweat pants and pulled on the clothing he was more accustomed to.

With one last delighted, incredulous grin, he straightened his shoulders, smoothed his face into its customary impassivity, and called, “Computer, end program.”