by Suz suzvoy@tesco.net

Disclaimer - Paramount own the names.

This is an entirely different story than the one I meant to write. Oh, well.


Chakotay had just discovered the most amazing fact of his life: Kathryn Janeway squealed.

A lot.

When he pressed his fingers into very specific points on her feet.

He was so utterly delighted by her reaction that he refused to relax his hold on her feet no matter how hard she struggled or tried to kick him.

They'd been going over fuel consumption reports when Kathryn had started moaning about the state of feet. Chakotay - ever wanting to rush to her aid, not to mention get his hands on any part of her anatomy - had gallantly volunteered to help her with a foot rub.

She had pondered his offer for a while. A foot rub didn't necessarily fit under the list of things a First Officer was supposed to do for his Captain. Then, all of five seconds later, she eagerly said "Okay," ripped off her shoes and threw her feet up into his lap.

Smiling, he settled a little further back into the couch and began to work.

And now she was squealing.

Kathryn Janeway was ticklish.

The information instantly pushed itself into his mind and he came to a single conclusion: there was no way he could stop. Absolutely no way at all.

He had known her for seven years. On different days he admired, loved, detested and questioned her. But he had never seen her react so emotionally to anything.

A mixture of profanities in a wide range of languages escaped her lips, between genuine laughter and pleas of "Please, stop..." which were so half-hearted that she had wasted her own time by even uttering them.

And there was a part of him that still couldn't quite believe this was happening. He remembered all too well their vehement disagreements, his belief that too often she crossed a line he would never even have contemplated looking at. He knew, also, that because of his own past he shouldn't judge anyone.

But she was laughing, now. And despite all her writhing, pleading, kicking and swearing, she wasn't trying to move off the couch.

Until she fell off.

Landing with a painful "Oof," she still had her legs over the edge of couch because Chakotay - in his shock at watching her fall - hadn't removed his hands at all and still had them locked around her ankles. Suddenly realising he released them, then continued watching as they awkwardly but quickly slithered off the sofa. Hearing them softly make contact with the carpet, he peered over the edge of the seat.

She was lying in a position that would not be considering particularly comfortable nor flattering. She was blinking heavily, a wide-eyed expression on her face.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

Somehow, she managed to shake her head.


The Doctor peered down at her. "Well, well, Captain. And how did you manage to get into this position, hmm?"

Chakotay stood next to her head and the Doctor stood at the other end, scanning her with his tricorder.

"I...fell off."

Frowning, the Doctor paused his scanning and looked at her, then Chakotay, then back again. "Just what were you doing at the time?" He continued frowning, genuinely having no comprehension of just quite what would have caused her to fall off.

Closing her eyes, she sighed. "Being tickled, okay?"

The EMH shrugged. "Okay."

"Yes," She continued, not really paying attention. "My First Officer was tickling my feet. Is there something you'd like to say about that?"

Contemplating an answer, he eventually produced one. "Just that I'm glad, I suppose." After her eyes snapped open he continued. "Being tickled is very good for you. It makes you laugh, raises your mood and your endorphin levels. In fact..." Snapping the tricorder shut he stood to his full height. "I'm going to prescribe it as part of your weekly exercise regime."

Chakotay interrupted. "She has an exercise regime?"

"Well," The Doctor conceded "Until now it consisted of world record attempts of ingesting the largest amount of caffeine in seven days, but...yes. Now she has an officially sanctioned exercise regime. And I trust that you'll enforce it, Commander? We both know that she'll try to avoid it."

Kathryn glared.

Knowing full well that his life was in danger, Chakotay happily agreed anyway.

"Good. Well, I'll be off. Nothing to worry about, Captain. A few bruises and pulled muscles. Just be more careful next time." With that, he swivelled away and walked out of her quarters.

Chakotay spoke immediately. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Hot chocolate? Coffee?"

"You can *get* me off this floor!"

Bending down he extended a hand to assist her, only to feel one of her hands tripping him up. Swearing, he fell backwards noisily, landing with a disturbing thump.

Within a matter of seconds - he decided later that she couldn't have been injured at all - she was up, had torn off his shoes, and was attacking his feet with her hands quite maliciously.

Sighing, wincing, he half-sat, resting the weight of his body on his forearms.

She was still working on his feet feverishly.

"Kathryn, do you have any idea of how ridiculous this looks?"

She stopped and sighed, still looking at his feet. "You're not ticklish."

"It's supposed to be *your* exercise regime, not mine. So...when do you want to schedule our next session of tickling?"

Looking at him she studied his face closely, and must have seen that he was going to enforce the Doctor's orders, as requested. She resisted anyway. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Come on, Kathryn," He encouraged. "I'll let you tickle me. Just because my feet aren't ticklish, it doesn't mean that all of me isn't-"

Too late he realised the tool he had given her. The power he had transferred.

Within six seconds Kathryn Janeway had located the exact spot on his body that made him howl.

Except he wasn't ticklish there.


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