DISCLAIMERS: The concept and crew of Star Trek: Voyager belong to Paramount, Jeri Taylor et al. I am doing this for fun, not profit. This stories includes spoofery on real life people - none of it is meant to cause offence. If I do offend someone with something in this story, please, please tell me as that is definitely not my intention.
EXTRA DISCLAIMER: I don't own the assorted members of VJB - they own themselves, I assume. They are represented here purely for a laugh.
NOTE: An answer to the spoof challenge set on Voq_Je_Bang

The Helping Hand of VJB

By Quew

Part One

pan in to conference room

Everything was business as usual during the senior staff meeting. Most of the meeting had passed and everyone was awaiting the end of the first officer's report. Harry was about to sprain something with unbridled kiss-up-boy enthusiasm. The EMH was having naughty photonic fantasies (he could access all the female crewmembers medical records through his portable emitter after all) while grinning. Neelix was wondering what the hell had possessed him to join this sorry lot… he hadn't had sex in years and he always had to be sucking up in order to get in a scene. Tom looked like a horny teenager, leering goofily at B'Elanna, who was trying to ignore him, occasionally toweling up his puddle of drool when it threatened to come her way. Seven was… (man does she have a body!)… she was not showing much expression at all, competing with Tuvok for deadpan character of the week with extra points thrown in for expressive eyebrow maneuvers. Finally the Captain couldn't wipe the command mask off her face… she was irritable… after all forced celibacy cramped a Starship Captain's style.

"I am happy to report I have been practicing new facial expressions and I believe I have successfully mastered a smile!" Chakotay finished, in his all about me way.

Janeway resisted rolling her eyes, deciding to give the good puppy, uh first officer his bone. "That's wonderful Chuckle's I mean Chakotay… Let's see it."

Everyone turned to the wooden man and waited. Harry wondered if someone had put a dime store Indian in his chair.

"This is it!" Chakotay cried.

Janeway sighed. `I'm so glad they got us off New Earth,' "Ah yes, of course… very good." Everyone hastened to agree, although none could see any change, simply because they knew he juggled their schedules.

Suddenly the command staff was surround by a motley bunch of people. Some held compression rifles, but most held things not nearly that lethal (like slinkys and PADDs) and Janeway was incredulous. They weren't scheduled for the `Alien-of-the-week' for two days!

"Who are you and How did you get onto MY" (well she is possessive) "ship!?" she began to throw random glares around the room, beginning at glare level 3… no need to put much effort into it yet you know. However the diverse group surrounding them had already donned protective eyewear before she finished her sentence. One of the Captain's glares bounced too quickly off of a taller man's glasses ricocheting around the room. At that precise moment an unfortunate anonymous ensign entered the room (bringing Janeway more coffee) and he intercepted the stray glare. He fell to the floor a screaming mess.

"Damn! My coffee! I mean… Doctor do something!"

The hologram was running a tricorder over the fallen man already and his head popped up. He looked at Janeway, and with better deliver than he had had in many years he said "I'm a hologram not a writer Janey!"

Everyone in the room blinked… even Tuvok and Seven, who raced each other for raised eyebrows. (Seven won this round)

Janeway sighed and rolled her eyes. She was supposed to have the fun lines. "Fine. I want some answers. Who is the leader of this bunch and what do you want from us?"

A cute British woman stepped forward and answered in that delicious English accent (what can I say, it is a sexy accent) "Well, none of us are really the leader ma'am. First of all it would be foolish to bring our leader here to you… you'd either seduce her, glare at her, or trick her then blow her up." There generally murmurs of agreement around the table and Janeway could've sworn she heard B'Elanna say `Well, she knows you.' "However more than that, we evolved beyond the need to have anyone in charge… although she left a few of us responsible for the lot... you know... just in case the keggers get out of hand or what not."

"Well since you spoke up first I could always direct my energies focusing on you…" the redhead answered.

"Then I'd just create a farcical-plottwist-inversion, changing your hairstyle once every 10 seconds and hiding all the coffee" (One of the intruders, a tall blonde, shuddered at this last comment, looking upset by the mention of hiding coffee) "until you gave up. Now really, we are all familiar at dealing with you Captain. Wyld… will you take over? My anti-glare glasses are fogging up."

A handsome man stepped forward from behind part of the crowd. "Ah yes, thank you RalSt." (A few of the invaders (saviors actually) hung on his every word… still harboring the futile hope that he'd accidentally start spewing more chapters to FFF) "We represent a group known as VJB. We have taken it upon ourselves to heal each universe from the harm caused by an evil group known as TPTB." (The invading group collective look uncomfortable at the mention of the enemy… some shuddering, a few of the more feminine women hanging onto the strong shoulders of other nearby women, and more than a few more growling, pulling Bat'leths out of thin air looking like Klingons ready for battle.) "They are more powerful than Q, and they have infected your crew in almost every universe we've encountered… denying your sexual natures… rerouting healthy attractions into ridiculous ones for sport…" he lowered his glasses to make eye contact with the Captain daringly. "Do the terms `Gothic Novel' and `Fairhaven' mean anything to you Captain Janeway?"

Janeway blanched. Chakotay finally moved his head. (I think.) B'Elanna giggled. Harry looked terrified of the idea that he may actually lose his virginity. Tom was… just Tom. And so it went around the table.

"I am curious, what do you intend to do about the situation if this group, "TPTB", are so powerful? How will you combat their methods?" Tuvok asked.

"We have our ways dear Vulcan. First we will need to alter the timeline somewhat so we can get Voyager home sooner… TPTB plan on leaving you out here to deal with your plaktow without your wife… you'll end up using a hologram that Tom creates."

"Captain, I believe we should listen to this group," Tuvok said a little too quickly.

"Do I ever get to fall in love? Have sex?" the EMH piped up.

cue cricket chirp

A few of the VJB group talked amongst themselves, and a little heated debate a Texan in the back finally answered (fairly unenthusiastically) "Yeah, we'll work on it… but ya' gotta' be reasonable Doc'... an' Keep those beady eyes of yours off'a Seven, ya' hear?"

The Doctor nodded happily, very content to know he'd get /anything/ at all.

The little redheaded captain stood and dramatically paced behind her chair, while using strange hand movements (well, they were strange since she wasn't talking yet!). Finally she looked around the invaders and asked, "So what do you propose to do?"

Cue commercial music

(Begin Story)

While the captain glared and the assembled VJBers thanked their tech-heads for the glare-proof shades, no one noticed RalSt's discreet nod to the Texan at the back of the group. The dark haired woman acknowledged the pre-arranged signal and tapped three other women, who then followed her silently out of the room and into a turbo lift whilst Wyld kept the bridge crews attention away from them by saying,

'With your permission, Captain, we'd like to work with your crew to set up an inverse spatial anomaly, which we'd then use to sling-shot you through the warp ten barrier. From our previous experiences with you, we know this technique will work, but we'll need to make very complicated adjustments to your structure and shielding.'

'Damn right!' Tom Paris blurted. 'I'm not going to be a lizard again…even if I did get to shtoop the captain,' he added under his breath.

Janeway, however, looked extremely skeptical. 'Are you saying you want full access to ships systems?'

'No ma'am,' a tall, well-spoken man said, stepping forward. 'What we will need is full co-operation. And access to your computer to allow us to work on our calculations.'

'This is our lead science, astrometics and technology officer, Lieutenant BT,' RalSt said. 'He'll be the one you talk to most about this project. It's mostly his calculations that get us through, because frankly the author doesn't have a clue what she's talking about.'

'The author?' Janeway asked, and RalSt found herself being stared at by the Voyager crew.

'The…the…oh, never mind, it's not important,' she said. 'What's important is that we get you home before TBTP know we are here!'

Whilst the VJBer's nodded seriously and the Voyager crew looked perplexed, Seven spoke up. 'I do not understand something. There is a discrepancy in your explanation,' She stated, looking at the assembled VJBer's, who did there very best not to swoon under the blonde beauties' gaze. Unfortunately, a few at the back were not strong enough and fainted dead away, a happy smile plastered on their features.

'What do you mean?' A flushed woman asked while the woman next to her fanned her frantically to keep her brain from imploding under the ex-Borgs' baby-blue gaze.

'You say you have done this many times before, but yet you request stations at which to work on your calculations. This implies that the calculations are unfinished or flawed, which they would not be if you have performed this procedure before.'

BT smiled charmingly. 'I'm sorry, perhaps it was not clear. We like to check the calculations each time, to make sure there are no refinements we can make. It is logical to do so, is it not?'

'Indeed,' Another VJBer stepped forward, nodding slightly in BT's direction. 'I'm Lieutenant Rebelgirl and this is Lieutenant Bethany. I'm VJB's Communications officer. I'll be your liaison between BT's team,' a group of studious looking men and women nodded and waved, 'and Voyagers command staff.'

'I'm VJB's Operations Chief,' Bethany said, smiling at the command staff. 'We're all lieutenants because the author can't remember any other rank that she's not sure she didn't make up.'

Despite her confusion over this strange 'author' entity, Janeway couldn't help but be impressed with the efficient manner in which the VJB personnel introduced themselves. It seemed that they certainly knew what they were doing and-

"#Fire Alert! Fire Alert!#' The computer wailed, making everyone in the briefing room start in surprise.

'What's going on?' The Captain demanded, her nerves suddenly twanging - a fire alert was one of the worst possible things you could hear on a starship.

'It appears as if we have a fire alarm, deck eleven, section nine,' Tuvok replied after he worked the console in the wall, his easy, even tones not hinting at the gravity of the situation and soothing the Captains nerves somewhat.

'Tuvok, you're with me, have an engineering team meet us down there,' The Captain barked, pulling a phaser from some hidden recess of her chair.

'Aye, Captain,' the security chief replied.

'Wait!' RalSt called. 'Where did you say that fire was again?'

'Deck eleven, section nine.'

'Oh,' RalSt said, shuffling her feet a little. 'Right.'

The captain, had she been more on the ball, might have picked up on RalSt's almost hidden distress, but as it was she was much more worried about having a fire on her ship.

'Lets go!' She ordered, and the command staff headed out of the briefing room. Harry immediately went to his post to better monitor the situation, and Chakotay was carefully led to his chair, where some kind soul tried to put some semblance of an expression on his dour features, failing miserably.

The Captain, Tom, Tuvok and the Doc piled into the turbo-lift. Seven and B'Elanna were about to follow them when RalSt and the VJBer's dived forward, taking up the available space by spreading their arms and legs whilst trying to make it look casual. They ended up looking like they were trying to perform the dance for 'Vogue' and the Hokey Cokey at the same time.

'Perhaps you two ought to take…another turbo-lift. Together. Alone,' the woman said, waving her arms to encourage them not to enter.

The Voyager crewmembers shared a perplexed look and then looked at their Captain, who was aiming a low-level glare at the back of RalSt's head and thinking about coffee, and so was too busy to comment.

By the time they thought to argue, the turbo-lift doors were closing, and the last thing they saw was RalSt's encouraging grin.

'I wonder what that was about?' B'Elanna murmured as they waited for the next turbo-lift.

Part Two

Deck eleven was reached with no problems, apart from a few mechanical moans and groans from the turbo-lift on the way there - at one point The Captain could've sworn it jolted to a stop for a microsecond, and she caught several VJBers sharing looks - and she made a mental note to get B'Elanna to check it out the next chance she had.

Soon they were stalking down identical corridors, joined by various security and engineering personnel with fire fighting equipment along the way. The VJB group stayed together, staring around them as if they couldn't believe they were really there, but maintaining their professional demeanor and keeping their weapons a good way away from the grabbing hands of Voyagers security.

The klaxons were starting to get on Janeways' nerves, and with one sharp verbal command she shut them off. They had served their purpose, and now all she wanted to do was to make sure her ship was not in serious danger.

Tuvok walked one step ahead of her, his eyes locked on his tri-corder. 'We had trouble scanning the area where the fire is supposed to originate, Captain, and the readings from the tri-corder are no less ill-defined.'

'Why is that?' Janeway asked.

'I am not sure,' Tuvok replied.

Finally, he stopped. He waved the scanning device around for a few moments, and then silently directed his security team into position; their focus being a large, bulky hatch set into the ceiling - an emergency jefferies tube exit. The engineering staff readied their fire fighting equipment, but they all became aware of a steady, thumping beat that permeated the air.

'The fire appears to be directly above this hatch,' he said quietly. Then he opened a panel of Voyagers wall plating, reached inside, manipulated a small control and the hatch popped open with a loud /Whump!/

Janeway nearly fired her extinguisher in surprise as a large shape fell upside-down out of the hatch, its downward motion only arrested by the fact it was tangled in some of Voyager's circuitry. One of the engineers was slightly less prepared and let fly a large quantity of fire retardant foam, leaving the hanging figure covered in a layer of the clinging, white fire dampener.

Light spilled from the open hatch, accompanied by the sounds of music and laughter, and the light chink of glasses. The VJBer's shared a look as smoke rolled out of the hatch.

Janeway stood slowly and waited until the figure had stopped struggling to cautiously put out a hand and spin it round, carefully wiping away the foam that had gathered on its face. She jumped as she came face to upside-down face with a nervously grinning human woman -obviously aware that she'd been caught - who had a bent, soggy cigarette hanging limply from the corner of her mouth.

'Uh...nice weather we're having?' The woman said. Then her gaze went past the captain and alighted on the VJB team, and her face fell. 'Oh…Hi RalSt…' She added, looking sheepish.

'I send your team on one mission and you…party??' RalSt said, her tone conveying professional embarrassment.

'The muses made us do it!' The woman said.

'Alright, get down please,' Janeway snapped. 'And someone better explain just what the hell is going on here.'

After being helped down, the woman looked up at the hatch and whistled twice. The music stopped abruptly, and after a few moments of embarrassed silence the rest of the team climbed down.

'Now…' RalSt said, marching up and down the sheepish looking rank. 'Do you have anything to say for yourselves?'

'We were just lettin' our hair down,' the fiery Texan drawled, 'Ya don' hafta get yer undies in a bunch.'

The woman next to her snickered. 'Unless you wanted to,' she said, winking.

'I'm sorry,' the third woman said. 'I shouldn't have let them get this far.'

'No, it's my fault,' The first woman said, still wiping fire retardant foam from her clothes. She sighed and absently ran a hand through her hair, making the foam slick back her hair in a very impressive Elvis-like quiff. 'I should've known those muses were up to no good.'

'Will someone please tell me what's going on here??!' Janeway bellowed, eyeing the four women and the rest of the VJB team.

An attractive man stepped forward and nodded to the captain, his bearing and poise nearly matching Tuvoks'. 'We apologise, Captain,' he said. 'These four are a special operational branch of VJB.'

'What kind of special work do they do??' B'Elanna asked, eyeing the four incredulously.

'Well…they're our mission specialists; they deal with things no-one else wants to,' Bethany said, stepping forward from the main group. 'Nicole is the brains; Wyrdy there is the brawn; Tori is the personnel officer…and we're not really sure what the other one does…'

The 'other one' opened her mouth to retort but was silenced by a pretty good Janeway-glare from RalSt.

'We're sorry,' the first woman said, shuffling her feet like a disgraced child. After a few moments of silence, the other three added their apologies.

'Enough!' Janeway roared. 'Enough! What the hell were your people doing in there in the first place?'

'Ya mean apart from setting this quadrant on fire, baby?' Wryd asked, a smile gracing her features. 'There ain't no party like a VJB party!'

Waiting for the calls of assent to die down from the main VJB team and the waved bottles to be hidden once again, Janeway put her hands on her hips and glared at the Texan, who ducked quickly and watched the glare melt a hole in the bulkhead. The other three followed the glare too, and, after swallowing heavily, the first woman spoke.

'We were…altering circuits,' the first woman admitted.

'What??' B'Elanna roared, leaping forward and grabbing the woman by her clothes. 'WHY??'

'W-w-w-w-w-w-w-' She said, having difficulty replying as she was being shaken hard enough to make her teeth rattle.

Two of Voyagers team and two of VJB's security detachment leapt forward and separated the two of them, pulling them away to their respective sides.

'I'd like to see you try that again!' The VJBer B'Elanna had shaken shouted. 'If I were bigger and had a rifle!'

'I'm going to rip your head off and feed it to my Targ, you P'taQ!' B'Elanna yelled, struggling against her restrainers, at which point the VJBer went and hid behind Wyrd, cowering slightly as B'Elanna raged.

'What the hell were you doing tinkering with my ship!' The engineer continued, calming down enough that the security personnel let her go.

'I wouldn't call it tinkering, exactly,' Nicole said, stepping forward a little. 'What quew here-'

'Wait! Did you say Q??' The entire crew of Voyager present took a step back from the disheveled woman and Tom Paris leapt into the Captain's arms, squealing in fright. Several of Voyagers' security staff dived into the nearest quarters, and only B'Elanna and Seven looked unimpressed.

'No, no!' RalSt stepped forward. 'Not Q…q.u.e.w.'

'Oh,' Janeway said, blinking and trying to maintain her self-assured coolness, which was hard when she had a quaking Paris in her arms. She dropped him without preamble and straightened her jacket, clearing her throat importantly as the rest of the Voyager crew shuffled their feet and regained their composure.

'You were altering circuits? What for?' Janeway asked, on edge.

For a moment, the entire VJB team looked sheepish, and then quew muttered something under her breath.

'What did you say?' Janeway asked, with such a growl in her tone that quew actually flinched.

'She said, Captain,' Seven stepped forward, having heard the comment thanks to her enhanced hearing. 'That it was 'all RalSt's fault.''

'What?' Janeway and RalSt said simultaneously.

'If you didn't have this turbo-lift fascination, we never would have had to go there to play around with the circuits, and the muses never would have corrupted us,' quew clarified.

'Muses? What the hell are you babbling about??' Torres spat. 'The way I see it, you were told to do something, and instead you were goofing off!'

'Well, yeah…I mean, no!' Wyrd said vehemently. 'Usually, hell yeah we'd be goofin' off, but this time the muses really did start it! Ah'm tellin' ya the truth, ah swear!'

'Captain, I believe it would be prudent to liase with VJBs' security chief and question these people,' Tuvok said, stepping forward. Janeway opened her mouth to reply and then noticed that every single one of the VJBers present was staring at Tuvoks' eyebrows and humming what sounded like a waltz under their breath. He noticed their strange behaiviour and raised his right eyebrow in question. This had an even stranger effect - all of them grinned widely, and he lowered the eyebrow…they stopped grinning, and went back to humming.

'May I ask,' he said, 'why you seem to have some sort of preoccupation with my eyebrows?'

Every one of them pointed to Nicole and said in unison, 'It's her fault.'

'RalSt,' Janeway said, breaking the spell that fabulous eyebrow had cast over the VJBers. The leader of the VJB team had to snap her glare-proof goggles down fast as Janeway turned on her. 'What the hell are your people rambling about? What are these 'muses'?'

'Well…you see…Oh, is that the time? I left the oven on…must dash!' quew said, and then took off down the corridor as fast as she could run. The rest of the Special team took one look at an angry Captain Janeway and then followed the woman, and soon the only sign that they'd been there was a lone party streamer, lying forlornly on the floor.

Part Three

'What're we going to do? What're we going to do??' quew asked, turning to the other three for help.

'We should've have stayed with the others; they have more resources,' Nicole said.

Wyrd shook her head. 'Look, they think we're a buncha layabouts! The only way ta clear our names is ta find those damn muses and *censored* the living *censored* outta them and then maybe *censored**censored* their *censored* if we can find a *censored* large enough!'

'I can see exactly what you're saying there, Wyrdy,' quew said, nodding seriously. 'But were would you find a *censored* that *censored*? I left the catalogue on the ship.' Everyone slowed and looked at her, and quew felt a blush start. 'Not that I own one of those *censored* things or anything,' she amended quickly.

'Er, guys?' Nicole asked. 'Why can't we say *censored*?'

The others paused and rewound the conversation they'd just had in their heads, and one by one their faces went pale.

'Oh /*censored*/!!' quew yelled. 'That means the TPTB are close!'

Wyrd reached into her belt and pulled out something that looked a lot like the modern version of two cups on a string. Adjusting the little antenna on the bottom, she pointed it roughly in the direction that RalSt and the others were and spoke into the hole in front of her.

'Wryd ta RalSt! Come in, RalSt!'

They waited a moment, and then RalSt's voice floated out through the metal cup, sounding slightly tinny. 'Wyrd! Where the hell are you?'

'Never mind that, Captain,' Nicole said, leaning forward to talk into the cup. 'TBTP are coming!'

'How do you know?'

'Try saying something rude, ma'am.'

'What? Now?'

'Yes.'

'Okay…*censored*!…What the hell! You're right!'

'The first stage is the strange censorship of swearing. Soon, we won't be able to say anything that could pertain to any part of the lower body at all, then it gets worse - no flirting, no inappropriate humour, /nothing/. The affects that have been dogging you these past seven years are nothing compared to what will happen if we let them get full control of the ship. You see, they send their…well, we call them 'Legal Storm Troopers'….to shut down the fandom, leaving the ship and all of you solely in their possession,' RalSt explained.

'You said we can't say anything to do with body-parts…Like…' Tom looked incredulous. 'Like toes?'

'Try saying you want to suck them.'

'Excuse me??' Tom said, looking around at Voyagers crew, who were all looking slightly shocked.

'Just try it.'

'Ok…' He shrugged and then put on his best 'You want to get to know me face', sidling up to a VJB team member.

'Hey cutie,' He said, leaning forward. She leant back correspondingly, and he leant forward again until she was nearly bent back at right angles. 'I'd love to suck your *censored*.'

The Voyager crew started as the censorship came into affect, and no one looked more shaken than Tom himself. 'Oh my…! I can't flirt! I can't sweet talk people! I'm finished!' Then he burst into tears and ran off down the corridor. The last they heard of him, he was pulling aside random crewmembers and screaming, 'I want to *censored* your *censored*! For the love of *censored* why can't I *censored*!!? Waahahahahargrgrghhh!'

'Harry…' Janeway sighed, hitting her com-badge. 'Tom's having an episode, please find him and try and calm him down before he does something stupid.'

'#Yes ma'am!#' Harry the eternal ensign replied enthusiastically.

The poor VJBer he'd hit on had to be helped upright, and RalSt put a comforting arm around her shoulders as she shook. 'It's okay,' she said soothingly. 'That must have been terrible for you, it's okay.' She handed her to two sympathetic VJBers and then turned back to the captain, shaking her head.

'…We need to talk, Captain….'

'What're we going to do??' quew asked again, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet nervously.

'Tori?' Wyrd asked, turning to the forth member of their team. 'What do you think?'

'I think we should have some fun,' Tori said, smiling. 'Lets party!'

'That's a good plan,' quew said, nodding appreciatively at Tori.

Wyrd rolled her eyes. 'What exactly do you do anyway, quew?'

'Well……errr…' quew said, scratching her nose thoughtfully and slightly desperately.

Just as quew was about to try to define what it was she gave to VJB, they heard the sounds of laughter and violent fighting.

'Quick!' Nicole said, pushing the other three into an alcove that was barely big enough for one. With the four of them in there, it became difficult to tell who's hands and legs were who's.

'Who has their hand on my *censored*?' quew asked.

'Shush!'

The four of them froze in awkward tableau as a gaggle of people and Klingons stumbled past, passing bottles around the group and alternating between fighting and…well, something that would've been *censored*.

After much embarrassed fumbling and rubbing of numb limbs, the four of them re-grouped in the corridor. Their communicators crackled into life and they heard that TPTB's troops had boarded the vessel. RalSt was leading the charge Captain-Janeway-in-Macrocosm style and BT had nearly finished helping the engineers of Voyager to recalibrate their ship for warp ten, and so, the renegade faction of VJB decided to deal with the muses themselves.

'Should we tie something round our heads and strip down to our vests? It always seems to work on films,' quew suggested.

'Anything's worth a try at this point,' Tori said.

'Y'all wear vests?' Wyrdy asked, raising an eyebrow.

'Who, us? No, only old men wear vests,' quew snorted, wrapping her arms round her midriff and trying to look like someone who wouldn't wear a vest if you paid her, 'What're we going to do about the muses?'

'Good question,' Nicole said. 'I think I know just what to do…'

Part Four

The muses were well on the way to inebriation, stumbling along and alternately fighting and destroying the ship one corridor at a time. Someone in their group was carrying a boom box, and the cloying mixed scent of alcohol, cigarette smoke and the occasional whiff of weed followed them wherever they went. Thankfully, none of them were paying enough attention to their surroundings to hear the conversation that went on at the junction they had just past.

'I don't understand why /I/ have to be the decoy!' Someone whined. 'And why do I have to wear this ridiculous outfit? How am I going to explain it?'

Someone else sighed. 'Look, I'll explain it again - You go out there, and you lead them into our trap. And the clothes are because…well, would you expect someone dressed like this to be dangerous in any way?'

'Only if they didn't take their medicine.'

'Right.'

'There's no way I'm doing this on my own though. No way, no how.'

'C'mon…who else is gonna dress up like that? You were the only one gulli…I mean brave enough ta do it!'

'Right…' For a few moments, the sounds of a desperate and heated struggle were heard, and then an angry silence descended.

'You have got ta be kiddin' me!'

'I think you two look…' *cough* 'very…pretty…'

'There's no way we're going to do this!'

'You have to!'

'Why!'

'Because someone has to lead them into the trap.'

'Why us?'

'Because.'

'Why because?'

'/Because/ because. Now get out there!'

Two figures stumbled out into the corridor and after making rude gestures to those hidden, they looked at each other, cleared their throats and called out,

'Urm, hello? Yes, you there! Hello. I mean, hey!'

The muses stopped. They turned around. They did double takes and someone at the back giggled.

Quew shifted uncomfortably in the red-one piece pajamas, adjusted the underwear on her head and tried to ignore the fact that she had pencils up her nose whilst Wyrd shifted uncomfortably in the Transformers costume that was made mostly out of old cardboard boxes and toilet rolls, a la Blue Peter.

'There you guys are!' quew said, running forward and tripping over her big, chicken shaped slippers. 'I've been looking for you everywhere!'

'Just who the hell are you?' One of the Klingons growled.

'I'm…I'm quews' new muse…er…Jayne, that's who I am.'

'And the other?'

'She's…my friend…Silent Barbara. She doesn't talk much,' quew said.

They looked her up and down and then shrugged. 'You're quews' muses? Figures,' one of them said.

'What do you want?' Another Klingon asked between kisses with a dominatrix styled human.

'Um. There's this great party. Um. Down the hall. Um.' Quew managed, feeling her face grow hot. She felt like the band geek turning up at the frat house to invite the football players to her place for chess and nibbles.

'Oh yeah?'

'Yeah.'

The muses mumbled amongst themselves for a moment, then collectively shrugged.

'Party!' A tall, black-haired woman at the back called, jumping up and down, a stick of dynamite visible in her fist. quew's eyes widened and she pulled the underpants down a little further, stooping slightly and whirling on her heel.

'Well c'mon then! We don't got all day!' quew called.

Aware that they were following right behind her, quew moved as fast as she could in the chicken slippers, having to kick her legs out to the side to avoid getting the wings trapped under her feet. Behind her, the boom box kicked into another track.

Finally, after a few false starts and back tracks she and Wyrd found the right room, and, praying everything would be ready, she keyed in the door code. The doors swished open and music washed over them, drawing them inside where strobe lights swirled and streamers tickled their faces. The muses took to it immediately, spreading through out the quarters and getting down and *censored* as quickly as the removal of clothes would allow.

Just as she was about to give the signal to spring the trap, one of the muses cried out, 'Holy *censored*! What in the *censored* is going on in the *censored*?!' A ruffled, half un-dressed Klingon came storming out of the bedroom, picking up a lamp on the way and throwing it viciously at another muse apparently at random.

'Someone better tell me just what is going on here!' She warned, her voice a low growl and her bat-leth suddenly in her hand. 'Why can't I *censored* my *censored*?'

'What?' One of the others asked, cocking her head to one side.

'I'm saying that I can't *censored*!!' The Klingon roared, slamming her bat-leth into a bulkhead. 'We get as far as taking off our clothes and then… nothing!!'

'Are you sure you're doin' it right?' One of the others asked.

'Who SAID THAT!' The Klingon huffed. 'Of course I know how to do it right!'

'Throw the switch! Throw the switch!' quew hissed frantically into her communicator. 'They're getting restless!'

Wyrd and quew shared a despairing glance as the muses wound each other up, their shouting becoming increasingly wild. 'Nicole, Tori…now would be a good time ta spring that damn trap!' Wyrd whispered, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

'You two!' One of the muses screeched suddenly. 'What do you think we should do?!'

quew shrugged desperately as she saw her black-haired muse peering at her thoughtfully in the poor light, and then looked at Wyrd, who's mouth was working soundlessly until she said, 'We should…go and start a riot?' carefully. The muses seemed to like this idea, and a wave of raucous shouting washed over them.

'Wyrdy…I think my muse is onto to me,' quew whispered from the corner of her mouth, watching the muse sidle closer. 'Why haven't they flipped the switch and thrown the trap yet?'

As if in answer to her question, the bathroom door flew open and two Klingon muses bundled out, dragging Nicole and Tori behind them.

'Crap, crap, crap!' Wyrdy swore. 'This has gone too far…we need back-up!'

'You're right,' quew conceded. 'But who's gonna come and help us now? They think we're a bunch of raving loonies and we'd need an armored car to get out of here in one piece!'

'Hmm…armored car…' Wyrd murmured.

Quew looked at her. 'Don't even think it, Wyrdy,' she said. 'We'd never fit one down the corridors, for a start!'

'Hmm…a small armored car…Don't worry about it!' Wyrd said. 'I'll get the back up, you try and keep them busy long enough for Nicole to think of something!'

'Me? What am I supposed to do?' but by the time she'd looked around, Wyrd had snuck out of the room and had gone to find help.

Sighing, quew shook her head, adjusted her pencils and set the underpants on her head at a rakish angle. She pushed through the crowd of muses now surrounding the two authors, careful to keep away from her own muse, and stopped at the inner edge of the group.

Nicole and Tori were looking defiantly at the muses, sitting with their backs together and their heads high. Nicole caught quews' eye and mouthed 'Create a diversion, we'll try and get out of here.'

/Diversion…diversion…I need a diversion…/ quew thought desperately. /What the hell am I going to do????/

Part Five

Tori and Nicole shared look as the muses crowded them, enjoying the fact they had two authors at their mercy. Suddenly, they became aware of a light, quiet giggling coming from somewhere behind them. Peering through the legs of their captors, they made out a red shape sitting on the floor, hiding something protectively in her hands and hunching over it as the muses tried to peer over her shoulders.

Quew opened her hands a fraction, peered inside and giggled, closing them with a snap as a Klingon tried to see between her latticed fingers.

'What have you got there, little muse?' She growled, poking quew with one long finger.

'It's mine!' quew replied, scowling. 'It's mine and you can't have it!' and then she peered through her fingers again, giggling slightly. As the last of the muses turned to quew, Tori and Nicole stood quietly and started edging toward the exit.

'What is it?' Another muse asked.

'It's a surprise,' quew replied, holding her hands close to her body and frowning at the muses. 'I found it. You can't have it.'

'If we want it, little muse…' The first Klingon picked her up by the front of her pajamas and lifted her easily out of her sitting position. 'Then we'll take it.'

Quew swallowed hard, aware that some of the muses' attention was waning, and also aware she was supposed to distract them long enough for Wyrdy to get back with backup.

'No!' She cried, as strongly as she dared, looking the Klingon in the eyes and wishing she could be anywhere else. 'You can't have it!' She pulled her hands in as close to her chest as they'd go and, not knowing what else to do, stuck her tongue out at the Klingon.

'Wait a minute…' someone called. Quew's eyes widened in horror as her muse pushed through the crowds. 'I know that voice…'

Quew struggled uselessly in the Klingon's grip as her muse lifted the underpants from her head and the woman grinned, the underpants hanging from one long-tapered finger.

'I thought I'd seen these somewhere before,' She said, waving the underpants idly.

Quew blushed but managed, 'Don't be daft - we replicated them from Chakotays clothes specifications.'

Her muse looked at them and raised an eyebrow, 'Well, that would explain the lace.'

'What is going on? You know this little muse?' The Klingon snarled.

'No', 'Yes' quew and her muse said in unison. 'And why do you keep calling me little? I'm taller than you! See, my feet are still on the floo-' quew gulped as the Klingon lifted her higher. 'Ok-ay. Look. I feel this isn't quite going the way I envisioned. Never mind her for a moment,' quew waved an elbow in the direction of her muse, keeping her hands together. 'I have something in my hands, a surprise, that is mine, and I don't want you to have it, so this is the point where you decide that you want it simply because I don't want you to have it, right?'

'No, we already established that,' a muse at the back called out. 'Now move this story along will you?'

'Ah, yes, sorry!' quew said. 'Okay, so we're up to the unexpected development?'

'Nope,' quew's muse grinned and swung the underpants again, wiggling her eyebrows. 'Done that.'

'Ri-ight…so what comes next?'

'How about the painful beating??' The Klingon holding quew growled, shaking her slightly and obviously impatient.

'Um, no. But thanks. No, I think we'll have my desperate last attempt to keep your attention, if you don't mind.' Quew waved a desperate elbow at Tori and Nicole to hurry, and then cleared her throat, trying to remember where they were in the story. 'Right. Oh, yeah, here we are…it's your line.'

The Klingon rolled her eyes, her temper dangerously thin. 'Will you just let me see what's in your hands?!' She roared.

'No?' quew replied, just as a faint rumbling started to pervade the room, at the edge of hearing. Several of the Klingons looked around, their hearing better than their human counterparts, and started to look worried.

'Fine!' The Klingon holding quew roared, dropping the woman unexpectedly and grabbing her wrists. There ensued a desperate but short struggle where the Klingon pried quews' hands apart.

'There's…There's /nothing there!/' She screeched.

'I know,' quew said, waggling her eyebrows. 'Surprise!'

Just as the Klingon drew her hand back to strike, the roaring reached painfully audible levels and the more sensitive muses clapped their hands to their ears. Suddenly, the door to the quarters exploding inward, showering everybody in durianium alloy.

A small car flew into the quarters, heavily armored and revving frantically. Tori, Nicole and quew looked at each other just as two motorcyclists drove in and started rounding up the muses, driving skillfully and prodding them with electric shock sticks.

Wyrdy popped out of the little cars window and yelled, 'Get in!' And the three VJBer's leapt into action. Tori held out a hand and one of the motorcyclists grabbed her wrist, allowing her to swing into the saddle behind her and handing her the shock stick. Nicole did an impressive leapfrog over two perplexed muses and landed on the other bike, whilst quew took a running jump up the cars bonnet, diving headfirst into the sunroof.

She got stuck halfway, her legs flailing madly as the car maneuvered through the rapidly angering muses, and suddenly quew felt something grab hold of her leg. She looked across to see her muse balancing on the bonnet and gripping her leg tightly.

'Do something Gizzmo!' quew implored the driver of the armored Mini.

'Hang on!' The driver with the faint Klingon ridges cried, performing some top-level stunt driving. Finally, after a particularly good one-eighty, the muse slid off sideways with an aggrieved screech.

'Wasn't that yer muse, quew? The one with tha weird Bruce Willis obsession?' Wyrdy asked.

'Yeah,' quew nodded morosely. 'She keeps saying he has nice vests.'

Suddenly the back doors of the Mini flew open and Tori and Nicole piled in, one on either side of the upside-down quew and the three of them became a strange tangle of arms and legs in the back of the small car.

'Go! Go! Go!' Nicole said as the muses were herded together by the motorcyclists. A few tried to break away from the rest but the motorcycling pair soon bought them back into line.

'Who are those guys?!' quew yelled over the noise of the Mini engine performing another feat of stunt driving.

'That's Kyanite and DeeJay!' Wyrdy called, watching as they expertly gathered up the muses and started escorting them back to their rightful owners.

Everyone sighed with relief as Gizzmo expertly handled the tiny car down Voyagers corridors, except quew who was still hanging upside-down, half-in, half-out of the small car through the sunroof in her red one piece pajamas.

'So what now we've dealt with the muses?' Nicole asked.

'We'd better check in and see how the fight against TPTB is going...'

Part Six

Gizzmo stopped the mini with a screech, and after five minutes frantic pushing and pulling to get quew out of the sunroof, everyone headed toward the nearest turbo-lift.

When the doors opened, they found a member of VJB slumped against the wall while a man dressed in the most boring suit any of them had ever seen read at her from a big sheaf of papers he had pulled out of his briefcase.

'And so, due to paragraphs two, fifteen and thirty-six A, all of which I have explained to you in minute and excruciating detail…' The man was saying, and the group winced - he had the most monotone and expressionless voice they could have ever imagined. He was devoid of expression in face and movement, his every trait designed to melt the most inventive mind to mush with the shear overpowering air of boredom he projected.

The poor VJBer in the lift had already started to drool, having passed the screaming and whimpering phases many minutes beforehand, and Nicole pointed out scratches down the walls where the poor woman had tried to claw out of the confined space.

Sticking their fingers in their ears, the group pounced on the enemy. Unfortunately, it was extremely difficult to hold him down using only their elbows and since taking their fingers out wasn't an option, they had to be content to awkwardly drag the almost comatose woman out of earshot and send the 'lift on its way. The man didn't move as they did so, he simply seemed to content to drone on and on and on…

Wyrd shook her head to dispel his influence and tapped the VJBers cheek. 'It's no good…' She said. 'We're gonna haft ta take her ta sickbay.'

'It doesn't look like things are going too well,' quew said as they carried the poor women toward the medical facilities.

They got to sickbay in record time, piling through the doors and putting the woman down on the nearest bio-bed.

'Michael!' quew called, espying the man at the back of the room hunched over a bio-containment cylinder. 'Could you help us?'

'Sure, sure,' Michael agreed, smiling and tucking the cylinder under his arm. 'What seems to be the problem?'

'She got cornered by one of TPTB's troopers,' Nicole explained.

After he'd bustled out to find an antidote, an attractive woman wearing the VJB uniform - I.E whatever you wanted to wear - strode into the sickbay and put her hands on her hips.

'Michael, have you managed to get the doctor online yet?' She called.

'Not yet BT!' He called back.

'BT?' quew gasped. 'What happened to you?'

'Someone else discovered my feminine side,' BT said.

After Michael had fixed the woman they'd bought in, the group left to find RalSt and the others. A few static ridden transmissions told them that the main group of VJB were planning a final assault and were going to stage it in engineering.

They found Gizzmo's mini where they'd left it, with one worrying addition - a TPTB Trooper stood before it, reading from his papers.

'And as you are parked illegally as defined in footnotes forty-seven beta and chapters three hundred…'

The mini gave a metallic groan and Gizzmo and Wyrd gasped. 'They can't be /that/ strong, can they?'

The mini screeched again, the alarm half-heartedly turning itself on in a last ditch effort to drown out the droning man.

'Quick!' Gizzmo called. The five of them dived forward, quew and Tori tackling the man, Gizzmo and Wyrd sprinting for the car while Nicole started to babble loudly and valiantly, managing to match the monotone man word for word. She kept the balance even for a few moments, but then the shear weight of his dullness began to press heavily on the three not in the vehicle.

'This…is…so…blah…' quew managed, her eyes glazing over as he went into a detailed description of paragraphs four, fifteen and twenty-five, including footnotes and sub-clauses and…

Tori was looking shaky and Nicole was swaying by the time Gizzmo had backed the car off to a safe distance. The driver kept her hand on the horn, managing to blot out the man for the few seconds quew and the others needed to get to the mini-vehicle.

'To engineering!' Wyrdy cried when they were all inside.

When they arrived, they were astounded at the packed ranks of VJBers assembled at one end of the engineering room.

'Where on Earth have you lot been?' RalSt asked as Michael and BT appeared through the doors. 'And what are you two /wearing/?' She said, pointing at Wyrdy and quew, who looked at each other's attire - they were still wearing their muses' outfits, having forgotten to change in all the excitement.

'The muses…' quew began.

'Never mind,' RalSt said, waving at the collected ranks of readers and writers. 'Are you guys ready?'

quew and the others looked around them - whichever way they looked, VJBers stood ready to defend the fandom against the encroaching PTB

To their left stood several VJBers standing ready, armed with padds full of stories designed to confound the best droning of TPTB's troopers, and past that Michael was readying his insect army, backed by RalSt's personal hornets. AP was next to Michael, fully armed with stories, and next to them, Kyanite and DeeJay were at the head of an entire regiment of biker chicks, revving their engines and readying their shock-sticks.

To their right, BT stood with Bethany, working on some complicated looking machinery designed to fire compacted stories at the troopers. Beyond them stood a women holding several snarling beasts on very thin leashes.

'Excuse me,' quew hazarded, 'but are those…porcupines?'

The women nodded proudly and smiled. 'Yes, ninja porcupines.'

Quew grinned, 'Very cool.'

'Nice pajamas, by the way,' the woman said before bending down and turning her attention to her porcupines once more.

At the other side of engineering, they could see TPTB's troopers gathering, readying their papers and clearing their throats.

'Are we ready?' RalSt roared, now wearing Robin Hood's clothes, carrying a rather snazzy longbow and working the VJBers into a frenzy. 'Readers!'

And the readers roared, 'Ready!'

'Writers!'

'Ready!'

'Lurkers!'

This cheer was the loudest yet, seeming to come from the walls and shadows themselves. 'Ready!'

'I didn't know they were there,' quew whispered to Wyrdy.

'That's tha thing with lurkers,' Wyrdy replied. 'You can never see 'em, but they're always there when you need 'em.'

With an almost slow motion sense of momentum, the two sides began to converge, crashing together around the warp core. The tide flowed back and forth - sometimes, gray suits were prevalent, swamping the multi-coloured ranks of the fans. At other times, the VJBers pushed them back until they were nearly fighting in the corridors.

'It's not working!' RalSt cried as she readied another arrow. 'They're overpowering us!'

quew glanced around - Kyanite, Deejay and their team were making short work of the Troopers they encountered, but they could not be everywhere at once. The woman with the porcupines was holding her own, ordering her animals with military precision, and Gizzmo and Wyrdy were sailing round engineering in the Mini, a woman quew didn't recognize hanging out of the sunroof and throwing books with enviable precision. She leant across and asked watched as Rebelgirl hefted a white, ball-shaped object and lobbed it into the fray. quew watched as it hit a Trooper in the chest and he toppled over; a few moments later she saw him pop up and wave at them, a big grin bisecting his usually dour face. 'When does the next chapter get posted?!' He called.

'What are you doing?' quew asked as Rebelgirl threw another, with the same effect.

'Throwing 'Snow' balls,' Rebelgirl replied.

Suddenly, quew saw a VJBer being overwhelmed by a gray suited attacker, her hands pressed over her ears and her face clearly showing her torment as he educated her on the finer points of copy write litigation, up to and including doodles and post-it notes.

She grabbed a padd off the nearest console and sprinted over, reading as she ran and hollering the first few paragraphs of an Odon spoof as she did. The gray-suit backed away, the humour making him scrunch his face and cover his ears. Pulling the woman upright upright, quew helped her to the sidelines and sat her down, giving her the padd entitled 'The Madness of Odon.'

'That'll keep you safe,' quew said, 'they won't dare fight against something that good.'

BT and Bethany's gun was also a success - they were firing chapters of Weejee's stories and the Troopers didn't know what hit them…soon they were crawling around the base, transformed from emotionless robots and begging for more, willing to renownce their emotionless existence forever if they could just have the rest of the story.

Still, with the gray-suits clocking in at nearly three thouand, the VJBers were still losing by sheer force of numbers…

Part Seven

Watching the tide turn toward the enemy, RalSt lifted her chin, and a never-say-die glint came into her eye.'It's time to pull out the big guns!' She cried, fumbling in her Robin Hood type jerkin.

'You want us to run around topless?' quew asked, perplexed.

'Not exactly,' Nicole said, making her way over. 'She's going to call in…you know…/Them/.'

'Not…/Them/…' quew gasped.

'/Them/,' Nicole confirmed.

'/Them/…really?'

'Yes, really /Them/,' RalSt said.

'She really is.'

'Really.'

And with that, RalSt pulled out what looked like a remote control from somewhere about her person and pressed the big red button in the center.

From somewhere above, smoke started to roil, providing the necessary dramatic backdrop for the moving platform that started to descend. Slowly, all the fighting stopped and all eyes turned skyward. Even the troopers were stunned into immobility for a few seconds, unable to capitalize on the opportunity to gain the upper hand.

Suddenly spotlights started to follow the platform, lighting the figures that were descending strongly and giving them great profiles. One was jogging on the spot, the others were still and silent.

'/Them…/' quew breathed.

Slowly the VJBers retreated from battle, filing out of the doors and into the near-by corridors.

'Why are we leaving?? I want to hear them!' quew said, trying to pull back into engineering.

'Are ya nuts?' Wyrdy said, grabbing her arm. 'It's one thing reading their stories through yer screen…it's another to hear 'em without no protective barrier between you an' the emotion. You'd either never stop laughin' or never stop cryin'.'

'You're right, you're right,' quew conceded. 'So that's it, we win?'

Wyrdy didn't answer, instead waiting a few minutes and then pointing to the opening doors. They joined the ranks of curious, getting there just in time to see the platform disappear back into the shadows of the ceiling.

Before them stood all the Troopers, chatting happily amongst themselves.

'Why aren't they all laughing or crying?' quew asked, a tad reproachfully.

'Because they were so dull ta begin with,' Wyrdy explained. 'The extreme emotions evened 'em out.'

They went in further, hearing snatches of conversation as they passed through the room.

'…Oh my god! Could you believe that scene in the lift?!'

'No! What about the one in the temple??'

'Oo, oo, what about when she nearly got killed in that fight?'

'No, the best bit was when they went to…'

'Excuse me, Miss,' one of the men said, grabbing her arm lightly as she passed. 'Can you tell us where to find more fiction? We have to read the next chapters!'

'Uh…yeah…uh,' quew managed, feeling the three thousand eager gazes keenly. 'T-t-try Perfect Misfits…or RalSt's site…'

'Thank you!' The man trilled, and all of TPTB's Troopers disappear back to their own ship, talking frantically about the stories they wanted to see finished. Soon after that, VJB's membership leapt from five hundred to three thousand five hundred, and the list became famous as the busiest list on the 'net.

'Well, that's our job done,' RalSt said triumphantly to the captain as she appeared in the packed corridor. Slowly the VJBers started to disperse and head back to their ship. 'The power of Fan-Fiction has triumphed once again!'

'What about Earth?' Janeway asked carefully.

'Checked your sensors recently?' RalSt asked innocently. 'Didn't you feel that jolt during the fighting? Do you think we can't multi-task? Some of us have can write two stories at a time, you know!' She said, grinning.

Puzzled, Janeway went and tapped the controls on the nearest wall-mounted panel. A few moments later, she was sitting on the floor with her head between her knees, hyperventilating whilst trying to laugh joyfully.

'Guess we should head back then, hey?' Nicole said, smiling as she watched the Captain rolling around on the floor, hooting with laughter.

'Not quite yet…' quew said. 'There's one more thing we have to do…'

'Seven,' B'Elanna said, nodding politely in greeting as she entered the turbo-lift.

'Lieutenant,' Seven returned, inclining her head.

They rode in silence until, with a screech, the turbo-lift ground to a halt.

'What the hell?' B'Elanna grimaced, tapping at the control panel with next to the door. There didn't appear to be anything wrong…until the panel sparked, and the electro-readings went off the scale.

'It looks like we will be stuck here for a while, Lieutenant,' Seven said calmly, putting her hands behind her back.

Before B'Elanna could retort, someone starting banging a simple rhythm on the roof, while someone else pretended they were a trumpet playing a romantic tune …and a few moments after that, a rather off-key voice began…

'You are so beautiful…to me,' the voice sang, and B'Elanna and Seven winced slightly.

'You are so…beautiful, to me,' it repeated, and then the emergency hatch in the roof popped open and a shower of rose petals fell through. B'Elanna couldn't help but smile even as she motioned for Seven to give her a hand up.

'You are so beautif- Urk!'

'What are you doing?' B'Elanna asked, shaking the woman by the shoulders.

'I couldn't remember the rest of the words,' quew said as Tori and Wyrd stopped drumming and Nicole stopped playing the hand trumpet. The four of them were sat around the hatch on the top of the turbo-lift, and quew had another handful of replicated rose petals ready to toss into the turbo-lift.

'No, I mean: /what are you doing/? Here? Now?'

'We're…trying to set up a romantic mood,' quew admitted, gasping as B'Elanna jerked her jacket again.

'In a turbo-lift??' B'Elanna snapped.

'You'd be surprised,' Nicole said, 'at what can happen in a turbo-lift.'

'So I guess you don't want the champagne?' quew asked.

'We're just going to beam out,' B'Elanna said, ignoring the question and looking bemusedly at the woman she had a hold on.

'Actually…' Nicole said. 'We disabled the transporters. Engineering was informed when the lift went offline, but it's going be a while before they get here.'

'Great!' B'Elanna rolled her eyes. 'Just great.'

'Oh, will you look at the time?' quew said, glancing at her empty wrist and sharing a look with the others. 'We'll leave you to it, shall we?'

And with that, the four of them beamed out in a shower of unfamiliar, purple sparkles. B'Elanna sighed and climbed back into the turbo-lift, Seven helping her by guiding her feet, then supporting her waist. She dropped the last foot or so and shook her head, before realizing that instinctively she'd put her hands on Seven's shoulders. She stared into those blue eyes for what seemed like an eternity before a noise to her right made her look away.

In the middle of the floor, there had appeared an ice bucket, complete with a bottle of champagne.

She and Seven smiled.

The End

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