DISCLAIMER: Star Trek is the property of Paramount, this story depicts a loving relationship between women...okay normal disclaimer done.
ADDED DISCLAIMER: I do not own the other writers on list, all my attempts to purchase were met with raised eyebrows and calls for straight jackets...which are actually quite comfortable...I hope those I have mentioned do not mind and if they do I'm sure blue will arrange my death in the next spoof :o) Also I've nothing against angst, well so long as I have tissues handy, otherwise I make a mess of my sleeve, it just happened to fit in with this semi-idea. If this fails to make any sense I blame the wine gums I was eating at the time, and unfortunately once again it's not funny...okay babble over.

OMG! Awards
By ralst

Seven rushed through the corridor until she reached the quarters of lieutenant's Torres and Paris.


"Yeah?" Tom rubbed his eyes blearily before focusing on his guest. "Oh, hi Seven, come on in, I'll tell B'Elanna you're here."

"Thank you." Walking into the darkened room Seven made a surreptitious survey of the area before reaching behind her head to remove the pin from her hair, allowing the blonde tresses to fall loosely around her shoulders, before sitting down on the couch.

It was at that moment B'Elanna appeared in the doorway to the bedroom, wearing nothing but a skimpy red silk night shirt. Walking over to Seven she leaned down and bestowed a leisurely kiss to the younger woman's waiting lips. "Good morning, I wasn't expecting you so early."

"There's been an emergency." Seven looked towards the bedroom, her brows furrowed with concern. "Where's Tom? He really should hear this."

"Hey! Helmrat, get your butt in here!" B'Elanna yelled into the other room, before taking her favourite seat, Seven's lap.

"You called, wifeypooh?" Tom greeted with a smile, before taking the seat opposite the snuggling couple.

"We have a problem, potentially a massive problem." Seven intoned, the fact her hand had actually stopped its journey underneath B'Elanna's robe a sure sign of the severity of the situation.

"What? It's not a spoof is it?" Tom gulped as memories of a certain round robin filled his mind.

"Oh my god! It's an unrequited love challenge isn't it? Or worse yet, VJB has turned into a C/7 shipper site." B'Elanna went an interesting shade of green as she contemplated those options.

"B'Elanna, breath." Seven started doing a strange form of chest compression, presumably in an effort to help the other woman regain her composure. It definitely had the effect of improving her colour, from green to a nice shade of red in three seconds flat. "VJB is and will always remain our little haven of T/7, although why I always get second billing in these sites is beyond me."

"So what is this problem?" Tom blurted.

"They've decided to run an awards type deal for the stories." Seven's serious expression was met by confused looks from her friends. "There is an angst category."

"Makes sense." Tom still looked confused. "I mean I remember having to bring you both cocoa and Toby the targ after the last one from that Xakana person, so they're bound to have a category for that stuff."

"Yes, but don't you see? Now there's an award up for grabs they're going to start writing more of those types of stories." Seven's eyes started to fill with tears as she remembered a particularly trying day, when she'd died about five times in one story, while also having her love rebuffed. "It's already started."

"How do you mean?"

"Don't Seven, please." B'Elanna hid her face in Seven's hair, still too traumatised to hear more of the blue woman's latest story.

Tightening her hold on B'Elanna, Seven whispered a few words of comfort to her love before turning to a now very concerned Tom Paris. "I won't go into details Tom, but I've had nightmares over that story during my last two regenerations."

Tom visibly shivered, before reaching out a hand to comfort his two friends. "Are there any other categories in this awards thing? Maybe we could divert their attention to them?"

B'Elanna valiantly fought down her tears and tried putting on a brave face. "Is there more than one category Seven?"

"Yes, there are six others." Seven searched her eidetic memory for the classifications. "Incomplete story, for which there are the most contenders, plus best short, comic, serial, NC-17 and overall stories."

"Well then, why are you getting so worked up?" Tom offered cheerfully, trying his best to brighten the mood. "I mean what's to say they won't try out for one of those other categories instead? I mean there're six others to choose from."

"Unfortunately the closing date for story nomination is tomorrow, hardly enough time for anyone to post either an overall, serial or incomplete story of enough imagination and vigour to win the vote, as it takes time and constant demands for updates for the VJB crowd to get worked up about a long story. That leaves us with the smaller finished stories." Seven explained.

"But that's still three other categories." Tom all but got out his Federation commemorative pom-poms and started a cheer, in order to raise the two women's morale.

"And one of them is NC-17." B'Elanna joined in with a beaming smile.

"Unfortunately with the exception of Mr Wyldchilde, there seems to have been a lack of NC-17 activity on list recently." Seven's pout was adorable.

"But wait a minute, I definitely remember getting some action only a few days ago." The dreamy smile faltered slightly when B'Elanna recalled the seizure that overtook her during one of those occasions.

"Yes, but they were all part of longer stories, apart from the wave of turbolift stories a few weeks ago, there have been hardly any sexy stories." Seven let her hand wander further inside B'Elanna's skimpy night shirt to make up for her recent deprivation.

"God Seven, you make it sound as if you haven't had your way with my wife in aeons, its only been a day or so." Tom's face had taken on a grumpy expression.

"Well it feels like a lifetime ago." B'Elanna agreed, moving slightly to allow Seven's hand freer access. "So why can't we try and stimulate some interest in the NC-17 category? I've listened in on their chat room, those VJBers are a horny bunch."

"That's true." Seven nodded.

"Oh yeah." Tom's grimace turned to a wickedly mischievous leer.

"So that's sorted, we get the horny little devils to churn out a host of NC-17, and they won't have the time for angst." B'Elanna celebrated her decision by kissing her lover.

"Mhhmmmmhh." Seven managed from behind B'Elanna's lips.

"What was that?" Tom's leer had now become a permanent fixture.

"I said, no matter how horny, some of them don't actually like writing anything more than a lust filled kiss or two, something to do with blushing."

"Shit!" To make herself feel better B'Elanna started lowering the back fastening to Seven's biosuit. "Well that still leaves us comedy, or short story, maybe we could find out which of them are too chicken to write a sexy story and get them to try comedy?"

"Comedy?!?" Tom's leer faded along with his colour. "I'm not too sure that's a good idea, they tend to do rotten things to me in comedies."

"They do rotten things to you in all different types of stories." B'Elanna reasoned. "I like comedies."

"The aggregate number of unseemly, although not fatal, incidents involving Tom do seem to be highest in comedies though. " Seven calculated.

"Then how about we find out which of the writers are Paris lovers..." B'Elanna began.

"Wooohooooo, now you're talking." Tom interrupted, his leer back in place.

"Hold your britches flyboy, when I said Paris lovers all I meant was the ones that don't want to decapitate you on sight." B'Elanna tried to hold in her laughter as Tom's face fell. "Now as I was saying, we find the ones who don't hate Tom and encourage them to write comedies, the rest we give the urge to create a happy short story."

"We could get one of them to issue another fluff challenge." Seven suggested, her worry of earlier having declined greatly with the feel of B'Elanna's fingers trailing across her back.

"Fluff is good." B'Elanna agreed half-heartedly, her mind more concerned with making sure the zipper on Seven's biosuit had gone as far as possible.

"Wait a minute, didn't one of them have me lusting after Harry in one of those fluff things?" Tom asked desperately. "I can't go through that again, I'm sorry girls but that's asking too much."

"Don't worry Tom, that particular writer is blocked, she won't be any trouble until after the awards are long gone." Her sentence finished Seven dropped her lips to B'Elanna's for a deep slow kiss.

"Okay." The helmsman's relief was plain to see, or would have been if either of the women were paying him the slightest bit of attention. "Come one then, lets go influence these writer people."

B'Elanna and Seven continued kissing, hands wandering in erotic patterns beneath each others clothing.

"Hey guy's! The writers remember?" Tom waved his hands infront of them, but nothing happened. "Angst!"

"What?" Meeting his eyes B'Elanna took a moment for her mind to clear before rising from Seven's lap. "Right, how about Seven and I handle the NC-17 inspiration, while you work on the comedy?"

"I believe that would be termed a plan." Seven agreed, then standing abruptly she lifted B'Elanna in to her arms and carried the delighted women into the bedroom. "Goodbye Tom."

With a sigh Tom made his way to the door and out into the corridor, mumbling to himself about being trapped in a T/7 ship where he never got any action, before his mind started working on how to encourage a bunch of odd little writers to make up comic stories where he not only didn't die or make a fool of himself, but possibly got to go out with that nice blonde from security.

The End

Return to Spoofs

Return to Main Page