Disclaimer: ST: VOY is not mine.

Author's Note: I always liked writing humor better than angst. Been drowning in angst since I started Inevitable. Hope you don't mind if I write this multi-chapter nonsense on the side. Not sure how many "hours" this will be. xD Oh yeah, this is unbetaed so pardon me. Please bring any punctuation, spelling or grammar errors to my attention. :)

Atypical

By mistress amethyst une

The 1st Hour

They should have figured that they'd have a turbolift interlude unlike any other. Over the past few weeks, rumors swirled of a curse surrounding Voyager's turbolifts. A man and a woman would go in, the thing would break down, a new couple would emerge. The captain and commander? No such luck. They were waiting outside a stalled turbolift. Yes, outside. Trapped on deck three, unable to get to the bridge because transporters were down. Jeffries tubes? The recent power overload would leave them fried if they tried crawling through them.

So here they were... just the two of them because everyone else on the deck ran into the lift before they could. Yes, there were some trapped crewmen in there.

"They deserved it," she couldn't help but think. "Should have given due respect to their superiors and let us on first."

He noted the peeved look on her face. Of all the decks to be trapped on... deck three. Must be the dullest deck on the ship. What exactly was on deck three? His quarters, her quarters, crew quarters, crew quarters, and did he forget to mention crew quarters? Everyone on the deck was either asleep in their respective abodes, on duty, or trapped in the stalled lift. They were the only two in the corridor... great. Well, this was... unique.

He slumped with his back against the turbolift doors, before sliding down to puddle and sit on the floor. She arched an eyebrow at him.

He shrugged. "We're going to be here awhile. Might as well get comfortable."

With an exasperated sigh, she knelt and sat next to him. "It's only been five minutes. Wonder if any of those crewmen are claustrophobic."

"I know Neelix is. Those ensigns should be glad he didn't end up with them."

"You're sure they're all ensigns?"

"I counted a pack of nine when they pushed past us. They weren't really paying attention to who they were bumping into. They seemed to be running late. All yellow uniforms. Judging by their fear, I'd say they're B'Elanna's. Engineers. I didn't see more than one pip on any of them."

"Sharp eyes, Commander. Well, B'Elanna's going to have a tough time fixing this then. She'll be short-handed. Wonder how Harry's going to manage if he has to take the bridge for an extra shift..."

"He'll be fine."

"I don't think so. Baytart's at the helm."

"Ensign Baytart? The one who filed a report against Harry's clarinet playing?"

"The one and only."

"Well, the current tactical officer should be able to keep the peace."

"That would be Brooks..."

"The one who's always doing impressions of you?" he guffawed. "I love how she made the 'bun of doom' her own after you hacked your hair off."

"Bun of doom?"

"Never mind."

"Commander," she said in a warning tone. "Tell me about Brooks. Now."

He opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a sound coming from within a turbolift. Sounded like screaming. They both pressed their ears against the door until the screaming was muffled. If they interpreted what they heard correctly, it appeared that one male ensign had begun panicking. One of his comrades had somehow subdued him and covered his mouth, muffling his screams. The muffled screaming soon stopped.

The captain and commander exchanged confused looks before resuming their old positions, sitting on the floor, side by side, backs against the turbolift doors.

"Do you think they're killing each other off in there?" asked Chakotay.

"After they pushed past us, would it be wrong to hope so?"

"Come on," he said jovially, trying to take the edge of her temper. "They did us a favor. If they hadn't pushed past us, we'd be trapped in there with them. We still wouldn't be able to get to the bridge. Nice and cool out here. They're probably burning up in there. All that body heat unable to escape, the smell of sweat and body odor in a closed confined dark space, nine of them packed in there like sardines... I'd hate for us to have been number ten and eleven."

She sighed. "Still, pushing past your superiors just isn't proper. Anyway, what were we talking about before the shrieking? Brooks? She's been doing impressions of me? I'd like to hear about this."

"You sure?"

"Try me. How accurate is she?"

"You'd be surprised," he laughed. "She can copy your voice exactly. Have you say ridiculous things..."

Her eyes widened. "Like what?"

He cleared his throat, and tried his best to ape an imitation of her voice.

"I am Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager. Cower under my death glare and surrender all your coffee."

It sounded like he'd swallowed a chipmunk who'd been smoking tobacco. He thought it was hilarious.

"It sounded just like you whenever Brooks did it," he added.

She was not amused.

"I do not have a death glare," she remarked, just as she gave him the expression she was so vehemently denying the existence of.

"There it is! She can do all your moods too."

He then went on to demonstrate by pinching the bridge of his nose and posing in the style of Rodin's "The Thinker." She thought he looked constipated.

"She called that one, 'I'm thinking too hard and my head hurts because of it, but I'll keep thinking too hard anyway.' And then there's when you have your hands on your hips. Your superhero pose..."

He broke down laughing.

"Oh ha, you block of wood. Ever think that you have some quirks that the crew might have noticed?"

"Quirks? Me?" he said, as he absentmindedly tugged on his ear.

"There! Right now! Tugging on your ear when you don't know what to say or what's going on."

He looked confusedly at her and continued tugging on his ear before realizing what he was doing and hastily putting a stop to it.

"Ok, you got me," he admitted. "Still, that's just one quirk. And why the hell did you call me a block of wood?"

"Oh, I don't know... you give me that vibe on the bridge. When you're in your chair, staring into nothingness while we're in a particularly peaceful region of space... it's like your mind's gone on holiday. And then, there's that annoying smile..."

"What's annoying about my smile?"

She grinned at him. "I've developed an immunity. Don't think I haven't seen you using that smile to get what you want out of anything and everything on this ship with a va-"

"I get it!" he interrupted, not daring to believe his captain would say something so inappropriate.

She laughed. "And that pout you get when you're flustered-"

"All right. So I have just as many quirks as you. Call it even?"

"Sure," she sighed. "Now what do we talk about?"

"Well, it's been awfully quiet in that lift these past few minutes."

"You think they're dead?"

They pressed their ears against the doors again. It was hard to make out, but there were conversations going on in there. The ensigns were trying to keep each other calm.

"One of them just keeps repeating 'we're gonna die in here,' over and over," she observed. "Male... must have been the screamer from earlier."

"Well, the others are trying to comfort him." Chakotay paused. "One of them's singing to calm him... and it sounds horrible."

"That's a Klingon drinking song... why would she sing him a Klingon drinking song?"

They backed away from the door as screams emanated from the turbolift again. When the screaming stopped, they resumed their listening.

"Well, that put a stop to the singing," she mused.

And the rest of the first hour was spent listening to the suffering of the ensigns who had, though not purposely, shoved their commanding officers out of harm's way and spared them from the hell within the turbolift.

lll--lll--lll--lll--lll--lll--lll--lll--lll--lll--lll--lll--lll--lll--lll--lll--lll--lll

Hopefully, B'Elanna and my plot bunnies resolve this. Don't want the command team stuck there for twenty-four hours... or do I? Well, surely some crewmen would wake up and join them sooner or later. That'd spoil it. Then again, B'Elanna's short nine engineers... how long can I keep this going while still making some sense? xD And I do have an explanation as to why they're just sitting there instead of going off to their quarters... you'll see. :)