Scientific Method Redux

A Star Trek: Voyager fanfiction

by

CanonAntithesis

Summary: A Paris/Janeway rewrite of the 4th season episode, Scientific Method.

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended. This fanfiction is based upon the UPN television series Star Trek: Voyager. All characters and situations other than my own are the sole property of Paramount.

Chapter 1

What's wrong with me? Kathryn Janeway wiped a shaky hand across her brow. There must be something wrong with the environmental controls. Environmental controls? That's a good one, Kathryn. Be honest with yourself. It's not that kind of heat you're feeling. She uncrossed and recrossed her legs … again, trying for all she was worth to look like the dignified starship captain she had always presented to her crew. And for God's sake, Kathryn, stop staring at your chief pilot.

She tried switching her legs around again. Well, that certainly didn't help. If anything, that inadequate friction only exacerbated the problem. She wiped her hand over her upper lip. It was sweaty too. This was too much. To her, sweaty upper lips were always a sign of older, out-of-shape women on the edge of menopause. And judging by the other things that were going on with her body at this moment, menopause was definitely the wrong diagnosis. Her eyes floated back to Tom Paris manning the helm. She had never noticed before how his blonde hair curled up at the base of his neck. One part of her mind, the more logical, noted that he needed a haircut. The other part, the one that seemed to be ruling the day, thought how wonderful it would feel to run her fingers through those precious curls and then wrap her hand around the nape of his neck, pull his head down to her level, and capture his lips in a smoldering kiss...

To distract herself from these decidedly uncaptain-like thoughts, Janeway tried to refocus on the PADD in her hand. It was another in a long line of excruciatingly detailed reports of Seven's. However, even the monotony of reading about the detailed step-by-boring-step instructions of how to calibrate stellar cartography instrumentation, couldn't distract her. Even the addition of first year Calculus equations, Good Lord, was that a math proof? … didn't help. Her mind still kept drifting to that damn handsome man sitting right in front of her.

Hearing a groan, Janeway was at first afraid it had been her, but quickly realized the noise came from her First Officer's seat. Chakotay was shifting uncomfortably in his chair and she had the fleeting thought that this might be some sort of alien virus affecting her entire bridge crew, turning them all into sex fiends. She quickly did a visual survey of the bridge and everyone else seemed to be acting normally. Although she did notice that Tom's hands had stopped their delicate ballet across the navigation panel. Chakotay permanently squelched her theory when he apologized to her.

"Sorry, Captain. I woke up with the worst crick in my back. I can't seem to find a comfortable position."

It was a silly idea anyway - like something out of a bad holonovel. Janeway nodded, but said nothing. She couldn't seem to get past the "comfortable position" comment that Chakotay made. Oh, she could definitely think of some comfortable positions she could get in and most of them seemed to involve being under the straining, muscular body of her chief pilot.

Her eyes were drawn back to the view screen. At least that's where she told herself she was looking. She watched as Paris' hands flew effortlessly across the control panel. Long, elegantly tapered fingers...Oh, how she imagined those fingers could …

Apparently, Chakotay wasn't finished with his malaise. He rolled his left shoulder awkwardly and groaned again. "I think I might have a touch of bursitis in my shoulder too."

At this statement, Lieutenant Paris surprised everyone by spinning around in his chair and facing his commanding officers. "Bursitis? Wow, Commander, I think my grandfather had bur-"

His voice faded off when he noticed how Captain Janeway was staring directly at him. At first he thought she was about to reprimand him for his outburst, but he quickly realized he was mistaken when he saw the blatantly lustful look in her eyes. Their eyes locked and all other activity on the bridge seemed to come to a halt.

Janeway broke the moment by springing to her feet, barely acknowledging Chakotay's look of surprise, as she passed by him. She strode directly to the turbo-lift, throwing a command over her shoulder, but not looking back. "You have the bridge, Mr. Chakotay. I'll be in my quarters." ...taking a cold shower.

\***/

Paris followed her with his eyes as the Captain almost ran across the bridge and entered the turbo-lift. She spun around as the doors began to close and she once again locked eyes with his. Tom watched with rapt attention as she ran a shaking hand over her own breast, pausing to circle around the nipple through the thick material of her uniform. Her eyes were locked on his. The doors closed.

Shit! Paris quickly looked around the bridge to see if anyone else had seen her little show. Chakotay was again groaning and complaining to no one in particular. Everyone else was busy at their positions, scattered around the bridge, doing their jobs. Relieved, Tom swung back around to try and concentrate on his job and to hide the rather obvious erection he now sported. He had been having decidedly wicked thoughts about his commanding officer during his entire shift and now he knew it was mutual. Captain Janeway had actually come on to him.

Damn, I can't concentrate. "Chakotay, I just remembered I was supposed to report to the Doctor half-an-hour ago to help him with some computer diagnostics."

"What?", Chakotay asked distractedly as he stared at a clump of hair in his hand. He looked up, but seemed to squint somewhat, as if he was having problems bringing Paris into focus. "Oh sure, Tom. Go on."

\***/

Kathryn Janeway was mortified. What in the Delta Quadrant has caused her to touch herself while the turbo-lift doors were still open? Of course, she knew the answer. The answer was Tom Paris. Tom Paris who she couldn't seem to get out of her mind and into her bed. Stop it, Kathryn!

She had stripped off her clothes as soon as she had entered her quarters and was now trying, unsuccessfully to relieve this sexual pressure she had been feeling all day. Nothing was working. Her tried and true fingers weren't working and they had been doing the job adequately for the last three and a half years. She even tried replicating a dildo, vibrating no less, and still nothing, but sore, reddened flesh.

Her door chime rang. Now was definitely not the time for visitors. Quickly, she pulled on her pink silk robe and headed to the door.

"Computer, who is outside Captain Janeway's quarters?"

The monotone female voice replied, "Lieutenant Thomas Eu-"

"Enter!" Janeway rushed to the door and pulled Paris in as soon as it opened wide enough.

TBC

Author's Notes: Voyager is my absolute favorite series of all-time and I love Janeway paired with any male except Nelix. This is my first time writing a Voyager fanfic, so if you could take the time to leave a review, I would greatly appreciate it.