The BLTS Archive-My Hero by monkee (wiecek@earthlink.net) --- Archive: ASC or BLTS Disclaimers: Paramount owns Star Trek Voyager and all of it's characters. --- Chaotica was looming over her, cackling maniacally. Was there, she wondered absently, any other way to cackle? He was breathing right into her face. Ugh. Couldn't Paris have programmed better breath into the evil guy? "You could have had it all, my Queen," he said, sorrowfully. "But you turned on me." He sighed melodramatically. "They ALWAYS turn on me in the end," he observed, to no one in particular. "Now," he said, turning his attention back to his captive, "You will PAY for your insolence!" She was strapped onto some kind of table, having been foiled by Chaotica's 'fiendish cleverness' once again. A blade on a pendulum was swishing closer and closer to her. She rolled her eyes. If Paris didn't get his sorry butt in here soon, he was a dead man. She'd put him in the brig for so long that his... Her fantasy was interrupted as someone kicked in the door to Chaotica's torture chamber. "Captain Proton to the rescue!" the intruder shouted, triumphantly. He fired his blaster at Chaotica, who put the back of his hand on his forehead and whirled around a few times before theatrically slumping to the ground. Swiftly, his cape flashing behind him, Proton moved to the controls and shut off the pendulum. He looked expectantly at his Captain, AKA Arachnia, Queen of the Spider People. "It's about damned time!" she snapped. "Captain..." he said, in a warning tone. "And why didn't my pheromones work this time?" she demanded. "This program isn't even consistent!" Captain Proton dug in his heels, and folded his arms across his chest. "You PROMISED!" he said, accusingly. "Tom..." she said, switching tactics, hoping to appeal to his sense of mercy. "A deal is a deal," he said, firmly. "You have to say it!" Sighing, she rolled her eyes, but she knew she'd been defeated. And, really, she had no one to blame but herself. It had been her own idea to start wagering on the pool games. As Captain, she couldn't very well wager replicator rations -- after all, that was against official ship's policy. But SHE had been the one to suggest more 'creative' alternatives. And SHE was the one who'd lost the stupid game. "All right," she sulked. She took a deep breath, steeling herself, then gazed sappily at Captain Proton and fluttered her extra-long eyelashes. "My hero!" she exclaimed, with feeling. She knew she had to do it right, or it wouldn't count. He smiled broadly, unfastened her bindings, and helped her up. "See?" he crowed. "That wasn't so bad, now, was it." "We are EVEN now," she grumped. "You've got nothing on me, now." "A deal is a deal," he agreed, happily. He called for the arch and shut down the program. He offered her his arm, and, laughing despite herself, she took it and they left the holodeck together. --- The eight ball headed straight for the corner pocket -- his aim had been true. Unfortunately, he'd put just a little too much spin on the ball. It careened off the edge of the bumper and finally came to rest a dozen centimeters from its intended goal. "Damn!" Paris hissed. His Captain smirked on the other side of the table. Then, casually, she brushed by him, set up her shot and sank her last stripe. Then she sank the eight ball as well, making it look effortless. "Lucky," he said, glumly. "Nope. Fiendishly clever," she said, with a big, evil grin. He groaned. --- Paris writhed in anguish on the torture table. He almost wished that Chaotica COULD kill him, and put him out of his misery. He made a mental note to alter the programming, and give the evil guy better breath. Ugh. Repulsive. And where the hell WAS she? She was purposely and maliciously making him wait until the absolute last instant. Well, she'd pay for this. Somehow. Someway. Someday. She was bound to lose another game...eventually. And when she did... His fantasy was interrupted as someone kicked in the door to Chaotica's torture chamber. "Captain Proton to the rescue!" From his prone and vulnerable position on the slab, he scowled at his Captain. She was wearing HIS tight super-hero pants. HIS cool cape. HIS rocket pack. She shot Chaotica with HIS blaster, and he slumped to the ground, after prancing around in a most annoying way. Then she looked over at him, expectantly. "My hero," he grumped, begrudgingly. With yet another big, evil grin, she sauntered over to him. She took the tip of her blaster -- no, HIS blaster, Dammit -- and ran it slowly across his cheek, over his neck and down his 'cleavage'. "Oh, you're going to have to do a whole lot better than THAT, my insolent Queen," she purred. "My hero," he said, trying to sound like he meant it. She just shook her head in disdain. He sighed, and fluttered his extra-long eyelashes. "My HERO!" he exclaimed. She grinned. Then she unfastened his bindings, and offered her hand to help him up. "Much better!" she said, patting his arm indulgently. He had to hold onto her for support as he wobbled his way across the room. He couldn't walk in these shoes at all, and even if he could, he was afraid to walk in this tight skirt. He'd already ripped it twice and the slit was moving higher and higher up his leg. If he ripped it again, he would be pretty close to indecent. Before they reached the arch, he tugged off the wig. It was GHASTLY, and he'd be damned if he'd be seen wearing it in the corridors. --- Neelix stood waiting for the turbolift, bouncing on the balls of his feet cheerfully. At the sound of voices coming down the corridor, he turned and was greeted by an amazing spectacle. It was Captain Janeway, but she seemed to be wearing Tom Paris' Proton outfit. It suited her, he noticed absently. But what rendered him utterly speechless, a rare phenomena, was Tom Paris. He was slinking unsteadily along in a long, tight, black evening gown, which seemed to be accessorized with...spiders, of all things. His face was painted elaborately, and his lips were blood red, a startling contrast to the pale skin near his hairline. His hair was slicked back and he appeared to be holding a wig. Unable to speak, he nodded to them as they passed. Just before they rounded a corner, he heard Paris ask, "Does this dress make me look fat? Tell the truth!" Janeway burst out laughing, and then they were gone. The lift arrived and he stepped on, shaking his head -- even happier now than he had been before. He just loved this ship. There was never a dull moment... --- The End?