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Pond 40+ challenge: Write a drabble a day for a week based on an episode. I added this children's poem to give me a structure and a theme to work from.
Monday's child is fair of face,
Drabble 1:Blue Monday
Computer, activate program Torres Zeta-one. The holodeck doors whooshed open like the exhalation of one's last breath. The images of his friends lay strewn around, broken, bloody dolls at his feet. What had he told B'Elanna he'd felt? Sad? Angry? Guilty? All of those, yes, but he understood her numbness as well. He'd clung to all that he could feel in order not to feel this overwhelming emptiness. The massacre had obliterated his past. He had nothing to return to. His future was a black hole. No family, no friends and when they reached the Alpha Quadrant, no Kathryn. Drabble 2: Tuesday's Child By: Turtlewoman Rating: G Date: Tuesday, August 24, 1999 Episode reference: Coda Kathryn, wishing she had been more consistent about ballet practice, pulled at her uncomfortable leotard as she approached the holodoor. They opened in front of her and Chakotay charged through them and into her. They clutched at each other to regain balance, he looking at her as if she was simultaneously a life preserver and a fatal injection. He pushed her back out of her arms, apologizing and leaving before she had a chance to say a word. She watched him leave then entered the holodeck to devastation. He'd left the program running. "Oh Chakotay!" She turned, running after him.
Drabble 3: Woebegone
He stood, staring at the viewport, seeing nothing. She watched him. "Deje-vu." "Pardon?" "It wasn't too long ago I stood at that window," she said as she leaned against the sill. "You left the program running. It was B'Elanna's Maquis program wasn't it?" "Yes. I am sorry. I would never have inflicted that on you." "I know. You should have though. You've dealt with enough of my nightmares. Would you like to talk about it?" "I don't know where to start." "We could start with a hug." She slid her arms around him. He stiffened, then pulled her close.
Drabble 4: Traveling "More Biriyani?" "No, thanks." "Wine?" "No." "Would you like….. " "Kathryn, You're mothering me. He finally smiled, "I kind of like it." She returned his smile, "I kind of like it too." "Do you remember the last time you fed me biriyani?" Their eyes locked. "Yes, I do. The night before we tried the slipstream drive….. Funny, I've come back from the dead and you came back through time to awaken me, yet we are still so far apart." "Meaning?" She held up her hand. "Meaning, would you still be willing to renegotiate parameters?" He laced his fingers with hers. "Yes."
Drabble 5: Loving and Giving He settled her more securely in his arms, leaning back in contentment. "You are a patient man." He chuckled, "Not really. I just prefer not to take some things until they're offered." "You are a kind man … and sweet." "Oh?" "Well, you always bring me a rose." "Which you usually forget to stick in water." She laughed, "But you still bring it." He smiled, "You like flowers." "Yes, I do. But it's more than that. You make sure I eat, take extra duty shifts, you sidetrack Seven and B'Elanna …" "Kathryn." "Yes?" "Do me a kindness." "What?" "Stop talking and resume kissing."
Drabble 6: Working It
Kathryn stood inside the holodoor and watched as Chakotay finished sparing. "You're on my time, Commander, though I can see how you need it to work on those love handles." "You should talk, Queeny. That little number highlighted your matching set," he laughed, grabbing her to him. She pushed him away, "Ugh! Chakotay, you're sweaty!" "You don't like sweat?" "I like sweat as dessert, not as an appetizer….and I prefer to be involved in making it." "When?" "Tonight, my quarters. Wear those boxers, but lose the stupid shirt." "You coming as Arachnia?" "Can you guarantee that?" "Yes, ma'am."
Drabble 7: Blithe Spirits Chakotay sauntered into her quarters, dropping his robe as he entered. She was waiting for him. His eyes raked over her, from her tousled hair, to her wet, red lips, down her ivory throat to her sequined encircled cleavage, the hint of her own love handles, past slim hips, and down her shapely legs to the most blatant pair of 'fuck me' shoes he'd ever seen. His trunks tented in obvious appreciation. She smirked and slithered over to him, hooking a taloned finger in the apex of the tent, purring, "Come into my bedroom, said the spider to the fly."
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