Thumbelina: Day Two
Day two of Kathryn Janeway’s predicament started with both a bang and a whimper. The early morning status update that Chakotay had requested found him still asleep after night of tossing and turning. He had awoken several times in the night to check on the tiny Janeway, asleep in her tiny bed. When his combadge chirped, Chakotay was deep in a much needed REM cycle. The jarring and unwelcome sound caused him to reflexively throw his hand across to the badge sitting on his nightstand. Sitting inches away from his diminutive commanding officer.
“Torres to Chakotay. Torres to Commander Chakotay.” The only immediate response B’Elanna received was the sound of muffled swearing.
“Chakotay here. B’Elanna, come quick. And bring tricorders. I think I’ve lost her.”
“Lost her, sir?”
When B’Elanna enters the room with the security team moments later, she sees a very shaken Chakotay seated on the floor of his bedroom, in deep remorse, being dressed down.
“If it hadn’t been for that damn lucky pile of laundry on the floor. And then that failing around trying to find me.”
“I’m so sorry. I truly didn’t mean to sweep you away like that. I mean, off, sweep you off.”
B’Elanna knew she had to get everyone out of the room, as the situation was clearly under control. But as she turned to go, she couldn’t help but blush as she caught a glimpse of the smallest captain in all of Starfleet stomping around, wearing only panties and an undershirt.
“You could have squashed me!”
Later that morning, the command team arrives on the bridge, with the captain riding in Chakotay’s custom pocket. The day proceeds quietly, with Janeway reading padds as Chakotay holds them up for her. Luckily, the computer is able to recognize her miniature thumb print as authorization.
Shortly, the need to feed a certain caffeine habit makes itself known, in the form of one heck of a headache. Drinking water from a full-to-the brim demi-tasse hadn’t been a problem, but that technique wouldn’t work so well for coffee.
“I’ll scald my face off!”
Soon the entire crew was trying to fashion the world’s smallest coffee cup. Vorik was able to triumph with the end cap of a tritanium alloy siphon rod, soldered to a small bit of black wire for a handle. It looked exactly like a mess hall mug. Janeway placed a commendation in his file for creativity and ingenuity under pressure. A clean medicine dropper was secured from sick bay…
“I’m not sure she should be drinking coffee until I can run more tests. She shrank. The caffeine molecules didn’t.”
…and Chakotay was able to keep her tiny cup full all day.
When lunch time rolled around, Janeway dismissed Chakotay to the mess hall.
“I’m just going to sit in my chair on the bridge. I’ll be fine.”
“Sure, until Tom decides to take a hard turn.”
“Worry wart. Go eat. Spend an hour not thinking about me. Tuvok is at his station to keep watch. I’ll be fine.”
The mid-day reports start to drift in. As the ensigns tasked with bringing the padds to the bridge exit the turbolift, they turn to present the reports to Tuvok. His quirked eyebrow and subtle nod inform them of what they missed, that the captain is indeed on the bridge. They cross to her chair and kneel down in front of her, like serfs paying homage to their ruler. All except Chell. The large Bolian loses his balance at the awkward position and surprise of seeing his larger-than-life leader’s current form. He delivers his report seated on the floor. While summarizing the morning activities, more than one ensign has to struggle to keep eye contact, and not stare at the tiny boots dangling an absurd distance from the floor, or the miniscule fingers, tapping out a rhythm of annoyance and impatience.
When Chakotay has returned from lunch, he reveals that he disobeyed a direct order. Instead of sitting in the mess hall thinking of anything except Janeway, he spent it in the hydroponics bay, crafting woody clippings into a ladder. One just the right height to help his captain descend from her command chair.
“I really didn’t care for the idea of you trying to hop down. And I know how you feel about asking for help.”
Regaining even this tiny, purely symbolic amount of independence warms Kathryn’s heart. She’s been asking for regular updates from engineering and sciences on how this happened and how they can fix it, fix her, but progress is slow and frustrating. The interference that they passed through at the time of the transport was unknown to the sensors, and the team hasn’t been able to replicate it. Kathryn and Chakotay finish the shift in the ready room; him reading reports on the couch and her jumping from key to key on her desktop station, trying to assist in cracking open the secrets of the interference in any way she can.
On the walk back to Chakotay’s quarters, Janeway snugs down in the pocket. Today’s adventure in typing while tiny was surprisingly physical, and the pocket is warm and cozy. The sway of his step, the darkness of the fabric, and the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat soon lull Janeway into an easy sleep. Noticing this, Chakotay slips his hand inside the pocket, and leans to the side, so that she rolls naturally onto his fingers. After carefully extracting her, still sound asleep, he places her on the doll bed and lightly draws the comforter up to her chin. Then carefully, very carefully, he moves her and the bed to the ledge of his view port, a safe distance away from his reach. As he calls for the lights to be lowered and leaves the room, Janeway creeps one eye open and rolls over. She sees the vista of stars above and all around her. They look the same as they always have. They are the one thing that hasn’t changed, that isn’t an obstacle sixteen times larger than it was a few days ago. Looking at the stars, at her stars, Kathryn Janeway feels something resembling normalcy for the first time in too long a time.
OMGGGGG. THAT ENDING.
once again, you do a wonderful mix of believable humor and general plot and dashes of adorable. and some hysterically funny humor (i can just see Chell on his butt and her jumping from key to key on the desktop console haha)
Waking up to @rawkfemme‘s magical brain having turned yet another piece of this epic post into this wonderful piece of fiction for us to enjoy - best morning routine I’ve ever had.
I am loving this beyond words.
Agree with @cheile, I can clearly envision her jumping around on her computer or her sitting on the edge of her huge Commmand Chair, tapping her fingers. I couldn’t keep a straight face.
reallyndacarter
