TITLE: If a Prehensile Plant Falls On the Bridge and Tuvok Isn't There To Hear It, Does It Still Make a Noise?
AUTHOR: Sr. Mary Kathryn (SrMaryKath@aol.com)
WEB SITE: http://members.aol.com/SrMaryKath/smkjc.html
SERIES: Voyager
RATING: G
PAIRING: All
SUMMARY: See title.

WARNING: May contain spoilers for Dragon's Teeth.

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Disclaimers: In the end no one will care who owned them.
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If a Prehensile Plant Falls On the Bridge
And Tuvok Isn't There To Hear It
Does It Still Make a Noise?

By: Sr. Mary Kathryn

Captain Janeway was depressed and a tad on the cranky side and she had every right to be. She had, afer all neglected to make sure she'd beamed her security officer back onto the ship from the Vaadaurian home world before ordering Paris to take the ship into warp. Not only that, there was no way she could go back and correct her mistake. She'd barely been able to get Voyager off the planet without getting everyone onboard creamed in the process; she could hardly just turn around and say, 'oops, I forgot someone' to the Vaadaur. And so, leaving the bridge to Commander Chakotay, she retreated into her ready room.

Alas, she quickly found that her ready room was no longer suitable for wallowing in self pity and loathing. A certain prehensile plant she'd acquired some weeks earlier kept poking her in the ribs and pulling at her hair every time she tried to shed a tear for her long lost friend and counselor. Eventually, enough became more than enough and she summoned Paris to her ready room.

"I don't care what you do with it, Mr. Paris. Just get it out of here." She watched as her ready room doors swooshed open and Tom Paris dragged the plant out of her ready room and toward the turbolift.

While Kathryn Janeway wallowed gloriously in her gloom, Tom Paris tried in vain to find a new home for the prehensile plant. First he tried the mess hall, but that plan had been a dismal failure after the prehensile plant had stolen a scoop of Naomi's leola root cream leaving the child in tears. Next he'd tried the cargo bay, but Seven of Nine had quickly ushered him and the plant back into the corridor informing him in no uncertain terms that she had no plans to regenerate with a groping plant. The Doc had said something to the effect of over his crashed holoprogram when Tom'd entered sick bay with the plant. B'Elanna had told him it could only stay in engineering if today was a good day to die. And so, poor Tom, prehensile plant in tow headed back up to the bridge.

In the turbolift, which Tom couldn't see for the prehensile plant, he suddenly got a brilliant idea. There was one place he could put the plant where there was no one to complain. The turbolift doors opened, and hastily Tom dumped the plant in Tuvok's empty station behind the captain's chair then took his own seat at the helm, pride and relief fairly emanating from his face.

The plant grew fond its new home quickly. It ran its limbs over Tuvok's console and gently swayed to and fro as Harry played his clarinet on the bridge. Chakotay was too busy worrying over how to pull Kathryn out of yet another slump to be worried about a little prehensile plant quietly sitting behind him.

For a while all went well for Tom and the plant, but as is often the case, when things were too quiet on Voyager, disaster struck.

"We're being hailed," Kim dumped spit from his clarinet.

"On screen," Chakotay ordered.

There before them larger than life was a Vaadaur who insisted on speaking with Captain Janeway. In the blink of an eye, Janeway was out of her stupor and her ready room and standing behind Paris, staring into the view screen.

"We'll do anything," the Vaadaur begged, "just please, take this Vulcan you left on our planet back. He isn't aggressive. He sees no logic in conquering territory and he's driving us crazy. Please, Captain, please, anything you want. Just take him back."

The prehensile plant dropped a leaf or two in anger. It wasn't about to let it's spot on the bridge go so easily as this. For a moment a branch tickled the torpedo launching spot on the console, but then the plant realized that maybe, just maybe, there was an even better spot on the bridge for a prehensile plant the likes of this particular prehensile plant. Slowly, so as not to be noticed, the plant edged a limb around the rail behind the captain's chair, then ever so quietly it heaved itself over the rail, landing unceremoniously in the captain's chair.

"Beam Tuvok aboard, Mr. Kim," Captain Janeway ordered, not bothering to turn around as she unsuspectingly backed across the bridge to retake her seat.

The End