DISCLAIMER: Star Trek Voyager and all its characters are the property of Paramount. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Ensign Tina LaMarch sat down on the floor waiting for the Turbo lift. "What's taking so frigging long?" she mumbled to herself.
"It's because the turbo lift systems are designed for only two things. Breaking down, and having sex in!"
"What about transporting people from one deck to another?" Tina replied, adding a "sir" when she realized who was sitting next to her.
"Call me Michael," I replied, polishing my new Lt pips. "We have transporters and Jeffries tubes for that."
Tina scratched her head in confusion. "That's stupid!"
"I know, but we seem to enjoy crawling around in dirty tubes, in a Starfleet tank top, with a compression riffle strapped to our backs!"
"What day is it?" I asked innocently.
"How should I know we are stuck in the middle of Deep Space Nothing!"
I looked at her compassionately. "What's the matter?" I asked, in my most caring voice.
Tina let out a sigh "I'm just bored, there's nothing going on!"
"But you just wrote a couple of fics; very good by the way!"
"Thanks, but that was just to break the tedium!"
"But it did that?"
"Yeah I suppose so!"
"Look you've got to realise that the land of reality intrudes into the land of fiction a lot."
"The land of reality?"
"Yeah you know next door to the land of the giants!"
Tina still looked blank.
"You know the place where people go to work, pay bills, have relationships!"
"Oh you mean every day life!"
"Yeah, for example being an international man of mystery – (well that's what Kris says when she wants something!) I haven't got time to write fan fiction everyday, so occasionally we get a calm spot, where nothing is written then we get days like these, where you get two or three fics, to keep you entertained!"
"Why did you want to know what day it was?" Tina enquired changing the subject.
"Well," I replied. "If it's a Tuesday, then Janeway has brought us up against the alien of the week, so the turbo lifts are one of the first things to go wrong. If it is a Friday, it's sex day."
"Sex day?"
"Yeah haven't you heard the old adage that Friday nights is shagging nights!"
I shrug my shoulders, when Tina doesn't laugh at my joke (well I found it funny!), and continued with the explanation.
"Every Friday, around 20.00 hrs, a random Turbo lift breaks down, and the occupants are allowed to fornicate, to relive the stress, agoraphobia, whatever! The worst is when Tom and the Captain are stuck together, cause they keep leaving super evolved Salamander dung all over the place!"
Just then the Turbo lift doors finally open, and a dishevelled Seven and B'Elanna come out, while adjusting their respective uniforms and bio-suits.
I wiggle my eyebrows and smirk, earning a glower from the feisty chief, and a cocked implant from Seven.
Tina and I step into the Turbo lift, and I stick my hand out to stop the doors from shutting.
"Hey girls," I call out down the corridor, "come around tomorrow, I've set up the Wii!"
"What time?" B'Elanna asks.
"Around 8."
"Yeah, we'll be there VJB, want to kick you arse on the FIFA world series football again."
B'Elanna and Seven continue towards B'Elanna's quarters, and the doors hiss shut, as I take my hand away.
We travel a little way, when we are joined by a couple of Salamanders, causing the lift to shudder to a halt
'Oh crap!' I think.
The End