DISCLAIMER: Star Trek is the property of Paramount, this story contains loving/sexual relationships between women.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

Voyager's First Purim
Or
A Damn Good Excuse to Get Rip-Roaring Drunk

By Melinda

Once again, the crew of Voyager finds itself travelling through unoccupied space. On this auspicious occasion, the captain has pulled the leola root out of her ass long enough to give in to the crew's demands for a little fun.

"If you'll all take your seats, we can get this meeting underway," Janeway began. "As you know, we've gotten requests from crewmembers to arrange some sort of R&R aboard ship. Any suggestions?" Boy, this seat is alot more comfortable since my leolarootectomy.

"Well, Captain," the Doctor answered. "I was speaking to Lt. Rabinowitz recently and he informed me that a very important Jewish holiday takes place in three days. It's called Purim."

"Isn't that the holiday where the Jews get drunk and dress up in costumes?" Chakotay asked. I know a lot about other cultures. I'm smaaaaart. Really, I am. My mama said so.

"Drunken dress up sounds like fun to me captain," Tom Paris interjected. Women like me better when they're drunk. I may actually get some. wooohooooo

Dumbasses! And Chakotay's supposed to be an anthropologist? "There's a lot more to it than that," the Doctor continued. "Purim commemorates a time in Jewish history when a woman named Queen Esther saved her people from an attempt to exterminate them. Jews celebrate by reading the Megillah, the story of Queen Esther, and dressing up in costumes. And, yes, this custom includes getting so inebriated that one cannot tell the difference between a blessing and a curse."

"That is illogical," Tuvok declared. "Why would anyone want to be unable to tell the difference between a blessing and a curse?" Dumbasses! I mean, that is a curious custom. Humans are quite illogical.

"I don't think it really matters, Tuvok," the captain said. "It's sounds like a good way for the crew to enjoy themselves." drunken wet T-shirt contest! yeahhhhh

"As morale officer, I agree with the captain," Neelix added. "We all need to let our hair down and this sounds like a great way to do it. Besides, it will also give the crew a chance to learn more about their crewmates' culture." leola root latkes, leola root matzo, leola root and gefilte fish

"Well, if noone has any further objections, we'll go into station keeping for the duration of this holiday so that all of the crew can participate." and I have just the T-shirt to show Ralst and AP Stacey that I do too have a nice rack!

"All of the crew, Captain?" Seven asked. Dumbasses! I am tired of these inefficient humans forcing me to go to their irrelevant parties just so they can stare at my mammary glands.

"All of the crew, Seven. You've got to learn to interact with your crewmates. It's an important step on your journey to humanity. " Plus, the wet T-shirt contest just wouldn't be the same without a little Borg boobie!

"Are costumes also required, Captain?" B'Elanna asked. Please say "no"! I've never lived down that cat costume from last year. Klingons do NOT purr! Dumbasses!

"For the senior staff, at least, I think it's a good idea, B'Elanna. We have to set a good example for the rest of the crew. So, that's it then. Voyager will be celebrating it's first Purim. Chakotay, set up a schedule so that everyone will get a chance to go to the party. Neelix, I'm sure I can trust you to arrange the festivities. Doctor, have hyposprays on standby for anyone who needs to sober up quickly in case of an emergency. If that's all, you're dismissed. I look forward to seeing the costumes you come up with for the occasion.

3 DAYS LATER ON HOLODECK 1

The Purim party was in full swing on holodeck 1 when the senior staff began arriving. They'd taken the first shift so that the rest of the crew could enjoy the reading of the Megillah. Chakotay, dressed as a native warrior, (except native warriors' breachcloths aren't generally obscured by huge guts) ended up wearing his Manischevitz when the captain walked in, dressed as a rack of lamb in a wet T-shirt.

"Nice rack, Kathryn!" Chakotay laughed. "Can I ask what the inspiration was for this particular costume?"

"It's a long story, Commander," the captain explained, looking over Chakotay's shoulder to spot AP Stacey and Ralst huddled in a corner, panting in relief. "Let's just say it's an inside joke and leave it at that." See, nice rack! And with that, the captain and her first officer mysteriously disappeared from the story.

Meanwhile, B'Elanna (dressed as Jane Bond) was finishing off her third mug of kosher bloodwine when she noticed Seven of Nine entering the holodeck in full Klingon battle armor and fake forehead ridges. Now that's a warrior! hummina!

Seven moved immediately to a dark corner to brood over how inefficient and irrelevant this whole exercise was. A few moments later, with courage born of Klingon DNA soaked in alcohol, B'Elanna approached the ex-drone carrying two drinks.

"Hey, Seven, it's about time you showed up. Nice costume, by the way." May Kahless bless whoever decided that a Klingon woman's breasts should be visible even in battle armor!

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Your attire is adequate as well." My eyes are up here, Lieutenant. I just knew I should have dressed as a Vulcan priestess.

"Come on, Seven. It's a party. Call me B'Elanna." Cause that's what you'll be screaming later if I'm lucky.

"Okay, B'Elanna."

"And have a drink," B'Elanna said, holding out a rather large glass of wine. "The whole point of this thing is to get drunk!"

"Alcohol interferes with my...."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just drink it, Seven. Your implants and human physiology are a lot more balanced than the last time you had synthehol. You should be fine." fine....how true

"If you insist, B'Elanna," Seven conceded. If I drink this, she will go away and stop interfering with my biological functions. Then, I can go to the doctor.

"Come on. Let's grab a table. Officers' privilege."

To Seven's surprise, B'Elanna did not just go away after she began drinking her wine. But they ended up in a very interesting conversation about possible conversions for the warp plasma manifold. zzzzzzzzz Until B'Elanna decided that a change of topic was long overdue.

"So, Seven, ever considered dating again?"

"No, I have discovered that males are irrelevant. I have no need to waste my time with them."

"Well, what about women?" Please, Kahless. I've been so honorable. I'll never ask for anything again!

"That is not possible. Humans do not engage in romantic affiliations with people of the same gender."

"Seven, I don't know who you've been talking to, but you're very wrong. Homosexuality is a quite natural part of human sexuality." Khaless, are you listening? Just a little bit more.

"Indeed. Then, perhaps humans are not as unintelligent as I believed. Do you engage in such relationships, B'Elanna?" Please, Omega! I have been very efficient. I will never request your assistance again.

"Yes, I do. Why do you ask?" I wonder if her implants have any undiscovered functions. At least, I know that THOSE aren't implants!

"It just seemed logical that you would be involved in such relationships."

"Why so, Seven?" Is it that obvious? OH.....I hope Tal Celes doesn't have a big mouth.

"Simple, you are ridged for her pleasure...bwahahahahahaha!" Suddenly, Seven fell off of her chair, rolling with laughter. It took a while for her to catch her breath, expecially when she saw the adorably shocked look on B'Elanna's face. "I am funny."

"You're drunk!" B'Elanna giggled, finally giving in to the humor of the situation.

"No, I am not. I am having fun," Seven protested, pulling herself up off the floor.

"Indeed?" B'Elanna asked, quirking an eyebrow in her best Seven impression.

"Yes, I assimilated an amusement park," Seven declared, sending B'Elanna into uncontrollable fits of laughter. "With these." Suddenly Seven's assimilation tubules appeared from her borg hand. "Look. I can make them dance. Borg, baby, Borg. Disco Unimatrix! Borg, baby, Borg."

"Seven, you should get something to eat. It'll cut down on the effects of the alcohol."

"I do not require..."

"Seven, don't make me call the doctor.."

"Okay, I will ingest nutritional supplements or something....remain here."

As Seven stumbled to the refreshments table, B'Elanna did her best to bring her raging libido under control. She's drunk. She doesn't know what she's doing. Patience, Torres. Your time will come.

Meanwhile, at the refreshments table, Seven grabbed a plate and began tossing food onto it haphazardly. This rather un-Borglike activity caught Neelix's attention.

"Seven, why the rush?"

"I am being efficient. Do not interfere."

"What, you're not going to have the chicken? Are you meshugenah or something?" Neelix asked, in his best impersonation of a Jewish grandmother.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing, Seven, enjoy yourself...." Neelix said at Seven's retreating back.

What's taking her so long? B'Elanna wondered. Maybe I should call the doctor. I shouldn't have convinced her to drink. Oh, there she is and there they are. whew Patience, Torres.

"See, I have nutritional supplements," Seven declared, holding up her plate for B'Elanna to see. "Now, let us continue our conversation."

"Okay, I believe we were talking about dating. Are you attracted to women, Seven?" Come on, baby. Say yes and you can come into engineering any time you want.

"Yes. I find females asthetically pleasing. And their aromas are quite intriguing."

"Anyone in particular?" I feel like a pre-pubescent boy out on his first date! My palms are sweating....

"In fact......" Seven's answer to that question was cut off by a disturbance on the dance floor. The doctor had started dancing around the holodeck with a bowl on his head singing "If I were a rich man...."

Seven giggled. "The doctor is drunk!"

"Seven, the doctor's a hologram. He can't get drunk." B'Elanna asserted, confused.

"He can if you alter his subroutines!" Seven declared, breaking into laughter.

"Seven! You didn't! I've got to see this. Come on." B'Elanna grabbed Seven's hand and dragged her accross the holodeck to watch the doctor's impromptu performance of "Fiddler on the Roof"

There's a hand on my ass. Wait, there's a Borg hand on my ass! Play it cool, Torres "Seven, not that I'm complaining or anything, but why is your hand on my ass?"

"If you are not complaining, why do you require that information?"

"Seven?"

"Implant malfunction?" Seven said, trying to look innocent.

"Seven?" B'Elanna growled playfully.

"You are pretty when I am drunk.....and I am pretty fucking drunk! bwahahahahahahaha"

"What?!!!"

"That is not correct. You are always pretty....especially when you are angry because I have begun work in engineering without requesting your permission."

"Are you saying that you piss me off because you think I'm cute when I'm angry?"

"Affirmative. Your heart rate increases. Your breathing becomes erratic. And your mammary glands move..."

"Indeed?" Today, I consider myself the luckiest Klingon in all the galaxy.

"Indeed. We will now initiate pre-copulation protocols."

"Excuse me? Pre-copulation protocols?"

"You are supposed to kiss me now, correct?"

"Wait, you tell me that you come into my department, interfere with my work, and piss me off just so you can stare at my tits and I'm supposed to kiss you?"

"Correct." Seven answered, leaning closer to B'Elanna to receive said kiss.

"Seven, you're drunk. In fact, you're so drunk right now you'd probably hit on the captain."

"That is not funny. Do you not wish to kiss me?" Seven pouted. "You do not wish to kiss me because I was Borg."

"Seven, I didn't say I didn't want to kiss you, but you're drunk! I don't want to take advantage."

"Remain here." Seven ordered, stomping off toward the doctor's impromptu medical station for an anti-alcohol hypospray. When she returned, she allowed B'Elanna to watch her press it to her neck. After a moment she spoke again.

"I am now sober. You will initiate pre-copulation protocols, now."

"Initiating away....mmmmmmm..." I'm kissing Seven! I am the man! or the woman! or the Klingon! oh, fuck it! I ROCK!!!!!

When the kiss ended, both were momentarily silent as they stared into each other's eyes. Suddenly, Seven grabbed B'Elanna's hand and began leading her out of the holodeck.

"Seven, where are we going?"

"To your quarters."

Yes! Yes! Yes! Qeplah!!! "Why?"

"I wish to initiate copulation protocol number 69."

"And where did you learn that?"

"I overheard Mr. Paris discussing it with Ensign Delaney. I have never attempted this maneuver, but I am certain that I will adapt."

"Oh, I'm sure you will, Seven. I'm sure you will."

Thanks, Kahless!

Thank you, Omega!

Later, B'Elanna Torres discovered that Klingons do, in fact, purr....if they're petted correctly.

The End

Return to Voyager Fiction

Return to Main Page