The BLTS Archive- This Pillow That I'm Huggin' and I'm Kissin'
by monkee (wiecek@earthlink.net)

---

For nanda, who TRIPLE dog dared me. . .

---

Kathryn Janeway worked quickly and with no hesitation.  She was
inputting commands into the computer via a PADD from her quarters. She
could go through the shuttlecraft Sacajawea's transporter system.  A
few command codes and false signals and she'd be in, with no one the
wiser.

Under the circumstances, she knew that she really ought to be having
some second thoughts about this.  After all, it wasn't everyday that
she secretly beamed herself into the guest quarters with the intention
of seducing someone.  But she had no qualms about it at all.  She
freely acknowledged to herself that she was thinking about sex, and
had been for the better part of a week now.

She hadn't had sex for five years. Five YEARS.  And she wanted it. 
And she wanted it with him.  Kashyk.  He was perfect.  Perfect because
he wouldn't be staying – she knew this.  And perfect because he was
sexy as hell, and quite attractive.  And perfect because he wanted
her, too.  She knew that his desire for her was genuine, just as she
knew that he planned to betray them in the end.  She wanted him –
wanted to feel his touch on her skin, wanted to smell him, taste him,
wanted to feel him penetrate her, and move inside her.  She was only
human, after all.

She tried to imagine the look on his face when she appeared in his
quarters. He wouldn't act surprised, although he probably would be. 
He would smile at her – that arrogant smile that both annoyed the hell
out of her and turned her on.  He would probably try to speak.  She
wouldn't let him.

There. That should do it. With one quiet command, she felt the tingle
of the transporter beam, and her quarters slowly faded away.

---

She materialized in his darkened quarters and looked around.  She felt
a flash of disappointment. Already things were not going as she'd
planned. Where was he?

Then she heard the hiss of a water shower coming from his bathroom. 
She smiled.  This would work.  She would just take off her clothes and
join him. She couldn't wait to see the look on his face. . .

She started across the room as she unfastened her jacket.  Then she
froze. Music was playing.  And it wasn't Mahler.

And it wasn't Tschaikovsky either.

At first, hearing a harpsichord, she feared it might be Baroque music. 
And that would have been bad enough.  But it was worse.

It was the Partridge Family.

The Partridge Family.  Bad music from the worst decade of music in the
late twentieth century.  Insipid lyrics.  Ghastly back-up vocals. 
Tinny accompaniment.  A real man would not be listening to it.

She shuddered as she heard a baritone voice from the bathroom – he was
singing along.  With the Partridge Family!

"I woke up in love this morning," he crooned, "I woke up in love this
morning, Went to sleep with YOU on my mi-i-ind. . ."

She had to stay calm, she decided.  It may be nothing.  Perhaps it was
a joke.  Yes, that must be it.  He'd stumbled upon the music in their
database and just wanted a good laugh.  Moving over to his computer
panel, she entered a few commands and looked at the display in dismay. 
According to the audio logs for the room, for the last forty-eight
hours he'd been listening to ALL of the Partridge Family songs in the
database.  One or two, she could understand.  But for two straight
days?

Her eyes stung with tears of anger.  He'd only been pretending to like
Mahler.  She could understand him plotting to betray her, take the
telepaths and commandeer her vessel.  That was just business.  But to
fake a shared love of Mahler?  That was low.

The door to the bathroom was ajar, and in the reflection of the mirror
she could just make out his form through the clouded door of the
shower.  What struck her was that she didn't even spare a glance at
his slim, powerful silhouette.  Instead she stared in morbid
fascination at what he was doing. He was dancing, waggling his hips
back and forth to the beat.  And he seemed to be singing to a bar of
soap.  Enthusiastically.

"Hello girl? Yes it's five o'clock, I know, but you just listen,
There's something that I've got to let you know. This is you. This
pillow that I'm huggin' and I'm kissin', And one more thing before I
let you go. . ."

Sagging against the bulkhead, she felt the cold chill of
disillusionment. She hadn't been this disappointed since she'd seen
Chakotay nude on New Earth when he wasn't looking.  Damn.  She wasn't
in the mood at all now.

That realization spurred her to action. She had to get out of here! 
It was somewhat more complicated to beam BACK to her quarters.  She
hadn't figured on being rushed.  He couldn't stay in the shower
forever.

She hurried over to the computer and began hurriedly reinstating the
functions that she needed to access the Sacajawea's transporters. 
She'd locked him out of just about everything – it was a time
consuming process. As she worked, he continued serenading the bath
bar.

"Do dreams come true? Well, if they do, I'll have you. Not just for a
night, but for my whole life THROU-OO-OUGH. . ."

God. What a sap.  She finished the manipulations just as the water
shut off. Damn.  She hurriedly whispered some time-delayed commands to
the shuttle, then replaced all the lockouts.

"Is anyone there?" he asked, from the bathroom.  She heard him open
the door and rustle around, presumably looking for a towel.

HURRY. She tried to will the transporter system to work faster. 
Mercifully, she felt herself beam away just as she heard him say,
"Hello? Is there someone. . ."

---

She actually groaned with relief as she sat down on the floor of her
quarters.  Safe at last.  That had been too close.

Well, at least she wasn't thinking about sex anymore.  There was no
way that she'd screw someone who liked the Partridge Family.  She had
to have SOME standards, after all.  And hell, it had only been five
years.  She could wait a while longer.  Another decent prospect would
come along soon, she was sure of it.  And if one didn't, there was
always the holodeck. . .

The End