DISCLAIMER: Star Trek belongs to Paramount (no copyright
infringement intended, no money made) - the story and original characters do
belong to me.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: A little peace of madness written in response to Halloween Challenge.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
"AAAARRRRRGGGG" She ran screaming from Cargo Bay 2, pounding hell for leather the length of the corridors. The only thought in her mind was safety from the thing following her. It rather closely resembled a zombie from the old horror movie genre. All grey and gory and ewww, she couldn't really think of another way to put it. It really was ewww. *I really have to stop thinking in NaomiWildman-speak* she thought as she ran full tilt towards the turbo-lift her chest heaving with exertion.
As soon as the lift doors opened, she dived inside. Only to be confronted by another nightmare. Janeway. Wearing nothing but a short, silk nightie, she leered at Seven with undisguised lust as she breathed closer to her.
"Oh Seven, I was just coming " She smirked. " to find you. I had a thought or two on how to further your quest for humanity."
*I can imagine just what you are thinking. I may be innocent but I am not stupid.*
"Captain, I would love to hear what you have in mind but there is a zombie chasing me and I have to find a place of safety."
"Well, my arms would be the safest place for you." Old Janey smiled her sexy, sultry smile.
(Oh God, did I just write that? Forgive me? Please?)
"I do not think so captain. Yours are not the safest arms on the ship." Seven informed her coolly, as she flexed her Borg-enhanced fingers. *But I do know who's are and that is where I am going now*
"Seven, we really should have a 'philosophical discussion' about dating and your love-life." Janeway edged closer so that she could wrap her hand around Seven's bicep.
*oh should we now? And what would you say if I told you I have a perfectly perfect love life and you do not fit any where in the equation?*
"Captain, I am sorry, but I really do not have time for this. The Zombies will have taken the next lift and followed me to my ultimate destination. Please forgive me?" Seven tried to look repentant (or whatever the right words is, insert your own if you can think of a better one) as she called out to the computer for a site-to-site transport.
Seven tried not to smile as she thought of where she had just sent the captain. She knew from a previous discussion with Chakotay that he would be in the holo-deck communing with nature; probably in a loincloth and not much else.
(Why do I write such things am I trying to make my readers ill?)
The turbo-lift finally let her off on Deck nine, section twelve. She raced along the corridor, chest heaving, trying desperately not to think of the horrors following her. She knew she would only have a few minutes to spare before they caught her. She belted the door chime with her human hand muttering to herself about the inefficiency of doors being locked while she was scared and needing entrance.
A rather grumpy, sleep-tousled Torres opened the door and growled at her "Vat do you vant? I vas schleeping; and you haf vakened me. Dis had better be good Borg or I am gonna rip your arms off and beat you vif them over de head."
"B'Elanna, why do you have a bad German accent?"
"Because it is in the challenge, stupid Borg. I must play the part I am assigned. Even if it means I haf to use a very bad, very fake German accent." Her accent really was terrible. "Vot do you vant anyway?"
"There are zombies chasing me. I need protecting." Seven almost pouted at the engineer. "I am scared."
"So you came to the half Klingon vif a bad accent and vorse temper for protection? You really are a stupid Borg!"
"Not so stupid. I sent Janeway to commune with Chakotay instead of accepting her not so subtle sexual advances."
Torres smirked and pulled the blonde into her quarters. "Vell, you may not be so stupid but "
The rest of her sentence was cut off as Seven captured her lips with her own.
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