I needed a break from building the K/Kes archive, and I wanted to celebrate completing my three finals. So I decided to finish this little ditty I've been promising for a while. It's that humor story that I mentioned over at the new JuPiter message board. It was inspired by a scene from a story over at one of the Jane Austen boards, and I HAD to turn it into a J/P scene! This story is completely insane, but somehow... this seems like something Tom *would* do...

Title: (A) Wet Performance
Series: "J/P PWP"
Author: Kendra Crispin
Parts: 1/1
TV Series: Voy
Pairing: J/P
Rating: PG-13 for... well, I'll let you find out.
Disclaimer: yadda, yadda, ya, TITB own Trek, I own this story. I don't own the song sung in this story, and I may have some of the lyrics wrong, but this is all in fun so please forgive me on that score.
Summary: If I gave this story the title of the song in here, I'd be giving too much away. This is one of those mental images that insists on being written. (Enjoy it, ladies!) ;-)

(A) WET PERFORMANCE

She'd put it off long enough. She had to talk to him. Hadn't Tuvok, ever since figuring out where her feelings were, been encouraging her to tell him?

Now, Kathryn thought, I hope my nerve doesn't fail me.

The possibility of losing her chance with him to another - B'Elanna appeared to be the prime candidate there - motivated her, but the fear of rejection - of him never being in love with her - was eating up her courage. So it seemed like now or never to her.

She arrived at his door and rang the chime. And waited...

And waited...

"Computer, locate Lieutenant Paris."

Lieutenant Paris is in his quarters.

A sigh. She tapped her badge. "Janeway to Paris."

She waited. She tried again. Still no answer. He turned off his badge? What is he doing?

She took a deep breath, and entered in the override code to let herself in. The little voice in the back of her head reminded her of the rules she might be breaking, but concern quieted them.

Her eyes scanned the room. No sign of him. Then she thought she heard a noise coming from the bathroom. She crept up to the bed area, and found the bathroom door was closed. He was humming some tune. No doubt from his favorite century. Then she heard the sounds of a water shower starting.

I'd better leave. But before she could move, he started singing.

*I'm too sexy for my love, too sexy for my love, love's going to leave me.*

Then there was several pounding noises in a row, as if he was pretending to be a drummer.

Kathryn gasped the moment he started signing and her eyes widened as her brain went into grid-lock. She froze right in front of the bathroom door. Then she heard the water's sound changed, telling her that he was now in the shower. Before she could begin to comprehend what she was hearing, Tom resumed the song.

*I'm too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt, so sexy it hurts.
And I'm too sexy for Milan, too sexy for Milan, New York and Japan.*

Her eyes went wide at the first line. Another gasp escaped her at the thought of Tom without a shirt, and she started feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with embarrassment. She had no idea what was with the second line, but the first was making it hard to think. It *had* been a long time for her... But it wasn't boding well for her situation.

As her thoughts were in turmoil, the singing continued.

*I am a model, you know what I mean, and I do my little turn on the catwalk.
Yeah, on the catwalk, on the catwalk, yeah, I do my little turn on the catwalk.*

That does *not* sound like something Tom would do, but the craziness of the song fits his sense of humor very well, she had to admit. And she knew just enough about the fashion world to get a few more odd mental images in her head.

*I'm too sexy for my car, too sexy for my car, too sexy by far.
And I'm too sexy for my hat, too sexy for my hat, what ya think about that!*

The word "car" threw Kathryn for a few seconds until she remembered one of Tom's little mentions of his knowledge of the twentieth century. But the hat part? Tom hates most hats. He said he generally hated how he looked when wearing one, but he did like... what did he call them? Oh, baseball caps...

*I am a model, you know what I mean, and I do my little turn on the catwalk.
Yeah, on the catwalk, on the catwalk, yeah, I shake my little tush on the catwalk.*

Then she couldn't make out the words for a while. But one word or phrase here or there was just clear enough to make out and would make her heart beat faster and the rest of her body tense. The mental images had expanded to him wet and naked, the state he was obviosly in at that moment. She tried to dispell them, but they just insisted on being at the forefront of her mind.

Suddenly, the song became audible again.

*I am a model, you know what I mean, and I do my little turn on the catwalk.
Yeah, on the catwalk, on the catwalk, yeah, I shake my little tush on the catwalk.*

Another two mental images joined to the forefront. That of him shaking his rear - one of him clothed and the other not. They weren't making it any easier to think straight. She wasn't sure if she should curse him for being so damn gorgeous, or herself for coming here and having her self-control tested like this.

The sound of the shower stopped, and she could hear the shower door open and close. Now the singing was completely clear.

"I'm too sexy for my cat, too sexy for my cat, poor pussy - poor pussy cat.
And I'm too sexy for my love, too sexy for my love, love's going to leave me.*

Kathryn knew she had to get out now, before he came out and discovered someone had been in his quarters without his knowledge. She made a quick move towards the door, but she didn't see the boot on the floor and nearly tripped over it. She barely kept her balance, but doing so forced her to turn back to face the bathroom door.

And at that very moment, the door opened...

*And I'm too sexy for this song!*

With a towel hanging from his neck and his eyes closed, Tom finished with a "tah-dah" movement as he came out. Kathryn's mental images were now replaced by the real thing, and her involuntary gasp let Tom know he had an audience. His eyes popped open, and he immediately went red.

"*Captain,*" he gasped as he pulled the towel off his shoulders and fumbled with wrapping it to cover his waist, too embarrassed to think about why he was covering himself up when she'd seen all that he had.

Kathryn wasn't much better off. She'd gone red too, but she was also mesmerized by the sight before her. And even with the lower half mostly covered, he was still a sight from heaven.

"Wh... Wha.... What are... you doing... h... here?" Tom's stammered words snapped Kathryn to reality. Then her brain fumbled for something to say.

"I... I had... something to talk to you about, but... you weren't answering my comm signals..." As hard as she tried to think clearly, her body and a good part of her mind had other ideas. "I'll... come back later... I'm so sorry..." She turned to hurry out, but she forgot about the boot right at her feet. She fell to the floor.

She was trying to get up - certain mental pictures were still hindering rational thought - when she felt him help her up. "You okay," he asked, voice a little hoarse. She nodded. Her voice was suddenly Missing In Action, and she was unable to raise an objection to his helping her up. But both - trying to keep minimal contact with each other - miscalculated and she lost her footing. He adjusted his grip on her arms and she got her feet firmly below her, but once she was standing, they found themselves staring right into each other's eyes.

"I.." both started, but neither could finish the thought - let alone the sentence. All they could do was stay there and stare at each other, their hands still on each other's arms.

Finally, it occurred to Tom that he had what he wanted right in front of him. That propelled him to do what he never would have had the guts to do in any other situation.

He pulled her against him and kissed her.

Kathryn's first thought was to pull away before things went out of hand, but she couldn't pull away. Her body wasn't listening to those thoughts. Then she thought, Oh, what the hell... and did something she would have never thought she would do.

She pulled his still wet body down to the floor with her, and instinct took over in a big way.

And sometime later, after a few confessions had been made after both had come down from the ceiling, Kathryn turned to him with a joking question she *had* to ask.

"Did you ever consider being a striper?"

THE END

Note: "I'm Too Sexy" is by Right Said Fred.

This story has been submitted to the Twelve Moons of JuPiter 2001 contest, and is up for Best Humor story, and Best Overall. Voting ends December 15!