Bedtime Stories
by Melissa

Author's Note: This story is in answer to the very first JetC17 challenge—to write a story involving J, C, and a book of some kind.

Rating: PG

For Jen and Patti, who had probably given up on me ever writing again. Unfortunately for all three of us I don't think this is precisely what they had in mind.

~*~

"Could you very sweetly pass me the salt, Chakotay?"

The low growl from her first officer at her chief engineer's request and the subsequent laughter from the rest of his table had Janeway looking up from her PADD for the third time in as many minutes. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen anyone enjoy Neelix's breakfast so much—or laugh so much before 0800. What are they talking about? She wondered. From the bits of conversation she'd managed to overhear, Torres was teasing Chakotay about something, with Paris and Kim backing her up and Ayala, Wildman and Saunders providing the accompanying laughter. He's taking it rather well,she thought as she watched him pass the half-Klingon the salt.

"More coffee, Captain?"

"Hmmm?" Janeway looked up distractedly to see Neelix standing over her, his smile wide, a steaming carafe in his hand. "Oh…certainly, Neelix. Thank you." As he filled her cup, her eyes wandered back over the small group that was still laughing. She watched as they all stood up, save Chakotay, and walked their trays to the recycler.

"You'd better hurry up, Commander; alpha starts in five minutes," Wildman called over her shoulder on her way out the door.

Torres laughed. "He won't be late, Sam. He's That Sort of First Officer." She darted through the open door as Chakotay halfheartedly pelted a napkin at her back, grinning the entire time, and then followed the group out into the corridor.

Janeway looked after them for a long moment before turning back to the PADD and staring down at it unseeing, a bemused look settling over her face. The mood on Voyager had been a light one the last few weeks; they had been traveling through an unremarkable expanse of space and thanks to the hospitality of the last planet they had passed, most of the crew had enjoyed extended shore leave. Janeway herself had spent two days relaxing beachside, soaking in the sun and wandering through a street bazaar with Tuvok during the four hours she'd managed to lure him off the ship. Even Vulcans needed vacation, she'd insisted, and had made it a condition of her leaving the ship.

Since the end of shore leave, Neelix had been kept busy planning various crew activities on the holodeck. She knew several people had been involved in writing a new murder mystery holoprogram, and she was looking forward to trying it out in a few days. There had been pool tournaments and storytelling circles, and Paris had programmed a rollicking Irish pub band in Sandrine's the night before.

Apparently the lightness had permeated through her senior staff in a way she hadn't seen in months. Janeway sipped at her coffee, wondering exactly what Torres had meant by her last statement. Chakotay was what sort of first officer? The kind that wouldn't be late for his shift? That was no secret. He'd been at the concert last night with everyone else, and he'd still been there when she had left well after 0100. There had to be more to it than that.

"Janeway to Paris."

"Go ahead, Captain."

"I'd like to see you in my ready room in fifteen minutes."

There was a long pause before Paris said, "Yes, ma'am."

She stood up, taking a last sip of her coffee before picking up the remnants of breakfast and dumping them in the recycler. She would do a little spying, courtesy of Lieutenant Tom Paris. Captain's privilege, after all.

. . .

"Damn!" Paris swore under his breath. "Paris to Torres."

"Torres here."

"I told you that you were too loud at breakfast but you wouldn't listen to me."

"Just a moment, Lieutenant; I'll be right with you." There was a brief pause before Torres spoke again, her tone colder. "I was standing in front of the warp core with Vorik, Tom; could you be a little more subtle next time? What the hell is going on?"

"The Captain wants to see me in her ready room."

"So? Should I be jealous?"

Paris let out an exasperated sigh. "No—you should wonder what the hell I'm going to say when she asks me what we were all laughing about this morning."

"Actually I should wonder why you're calling me. Call Chakotay! He's the one who caused the problem. Now I'm going to get back to my diagnostic, Tom. Torres out!"

Paris stood stupidly in the middle of his quarters for a long moment before letting out another sigh and calling up Chakotay on his comm badge.

. . .

*BWEE-DOOP*

"Come in," Janeway called out.

The doors to her ready room opened and Paris stepped forward, a PADD in his hand.

"Ah, Lieutenant Paris. If I might have—"

"Captain," Paris said swiftly, cutting off the rest of her sentence, "if you don't mind my interrupting—I think I have the answers you're looking for." He reached out and handed her the PADD.

She raised an eyebrow slightly, but brought up the contents on the screen with the touch of a finger. Paris watched as she scrolled through the words quickly, watched her expression change from confused to even more confused. After a few minutes she looked up and met his gaze evenly. "Very well, Lieutenant. I'll go along with whatever this is. Please tell the Commander that 2200 hours is fine."

Paris took the PADD from her extended fingers and stifled his grin as he backed out of the room.

. . .

The time is 2158.

The computer reminded her of the time, counting down the last five minutes as she had requested. She felt ridiculous, but the PADD's instructions had been very specific about her attire and location for the evening. She still had no idea what was going on really, but had no reason not to trust her staff. After all, it was Chakotay, and if anyone was trustworthy, it was him.

The time is 2159.

God forbid he not be exactly on time, she thought irritably. Her remarkably prompt, remarkably perfect First Officer. She had no doubt that he would show up precisely when he said he would, without a second to spare in either direction of the clock. Usually she found this to be a desirable element but at moments like this it only served to annoy her.

The time is 2200.

And the door chime sounded.

Predictable, she thought, smoothing the cloth over her legs. "Come in," she called, feeling absurd listening to her voice echo off the walls. She heard the doors open and shut, and then suddenly Chakotay was standing in the doorway of her bedroom, a book tucked under his arm.

"Good evening, Captain," he said, his smile a little self-deprecating.

"This isn't our usual meeting place—or attire, Commander," she said, taking in his casual pants and shirt and then glancing down at her flannel pajamas.

"No. It certainly isn't." He walked into the room and knelt down beside the bed. "I suppose you'd like to know what this is all about now?"

"Actually, I wanted to know hours ago," Janeway said wryly, "but I'd settle for now."

Chakotay sighed. "It's all been completely blown out of proportion. See, I babysat for Naomi last week."

"Okay…nothing unusual in that."

"I brought a book with me to read to her before she went to sleep. Right before I read to her, Torres called me to ask me a question about the next day's duty roster. And I forgot to turn off my comm badge afterwards."

Comprehension began to dawn in Janeway's eyes.

"So," Chakotay continued, "Torres and the people she was playing cards with—Paris, Kim, Wildman, Saunders, and Ayala—were all treated to my rendition of 'The House At Pooh Corner'."

"Embarrassing," Janeway said, the edges of her mouth lifting in a smile.

"Tell me about it," Chakotay laughed. "They haven't let me hear the end of it all week."

She joined his laughter, and eventually it faded away into a comfortable silence. "So…" she said after a minute or two. "Why are you here? And why the elaborate list of instructions?"

Chakotay raised an eyebrow, and the light in his eyes turned a little wicked. "I thought a story might help you sleep better—it certainly worked for Naomi. Plus," he added, his expression turning sly, "I figured it was the only way I'd get to be in your bedroom."

Janeway closed her eyes briefly as a thousand sensations slammed into her at once. Decisions made and discarded ran through her mind at warp speed, until an inevitable truth pushed its way to the forefront of her mind.

"Maybe you should just try asking me very sweetly," she said, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

She would never forget how quickly his mouth fell open—or how quickly the book fell unnoticed to the floor.

FINIS

'What about a story?' said Christopher Robin.
'What about a story?' I said.
'Could you very sweetly tell Winnie-the-Pooh one?'
'I suppose I could,' I said. `What sort of stories does he like?'
'About himself. Because he's that sort of Bear.'
'Oh, I see.'
'So could you very sweetly?'
'I'll try.' I said.

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