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Dizzy Darts and Near Misses

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“You can't possibly think that this is all somehow my fault?” Tom crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking at his wife in disbelief.

“Isn’t it always your fault?” She paced outside the force field of cell 4.

“Maybe…most of the time, but I swear, this time I had nothing to do with it,” he said looking down, defeated.

“You did organize the party, and the party games and everything,” she said, eyeing him.

“Yes, I did, but this time I didn’t spike the punch, I didn’t force him to drink, nor did I force him to play dizzy darts, and certainly I wasn’t expecting for the captain to end up with a dart stuck in her head,” he finished with almost a whisper, looking at the point of his boot, fighting the laugh that was threatening to spill out.

A snort was heard coming from inside the cell. B’Elanna turned at the sound to see her husband shaking trying not to laugh, and she fumed in anger.

“P’TAK!! DON’T LAUGH, I think you are in big trouble this time, they will leave you here and throw away the code!”

“I can’t help it B’E! I can still picture Chakotay fainting when he saw the captain with that dart stuck in her forehead,” he said laughing.

“And the ‘X’ Band-Aids on the captain’s forehead?” B’Elanna pointed out between snorts, “I wish I hadn’t scheduled the sickbay’s dermal regenerators’ maintenance for last night, I wish I had known!”

“Well more than spending time here, I am rather worried about Chakotay’s punishment B’E,” Tom stopped laughing and rubbed his chin.

“You are on your own there darling, I will make sure the dermal regenerators are working properly, I know you will need them, I’ve heard he has been working all day on his boxing program and the 6 p.m. slot is reserved for him for a month,” she finished, whispering.

Tom thought he was going to sweat blood, scratch that, he KNEW he was going to sweat blood, and end up with a few broken bones.


Two days later, it was evening; B’Elanna heard the hiss of the door opening in her and Tom’s quarters.

“How was your day?” she asked to a very tired Tom that was entering dragging his feet over the carpet.

“I just wish Chakotay would have stuck to the time in the brig or sparring with him in his boxing program, but helping him learn how to be a knife thrower is bordering on sadism,” he complained.

“Today he missed my arm by millimeters and I had several cuts on my legs that the doctor fixed,” he finished, sighing.

B’Elanna wondered if she should tell him that Chakotay was known in the Maquis for his skill with the knives. Something he learned in his tribe as a child. Once more she decided against it, this would help Tom to think twice next time before organizing any party games.



Le fin!