Title: Absumption 3/5
Author: The Emu
Email: emu@zip.com.au
Size: 15K
Rating: R
Codes: Au of 'Timeless', A; J/P
Summary: 'Timeless' could have been worse. Someone might
have survived.

	=/\=

Janeway woke to a hand on her shoulder.

"Captain?"

"Tom?"

"It's Jenny. Tom's setting up the equipment."

Finally Janeway managed to wake well enough to focus on
the Ensign. "Shouldn't you be in sickbay?"

"I'm going to assist Tom. They'll be finishing up soon,
anyway. Vorik's not strong enough to work through, so
they're just insulating the packs to hold them overnight."

Janeway pushed away the coverlet as she realised how
damned hot it was. She could feel herself sweating. "But he's
retrievable?"

"We won't know until we attempt to download him." Delaney
showed her a damp cloth before laying it over her forehead.
"Sometimes the old methods are the best."

Janeway placed her hand over the cloth, glad when the young
woman drew back, respecting her space.

Tom dropped to his knees beside the bed and pressed a
hypospray to her neck. "This is a muscle relaxant. We're
going to drain three litres, so I'll need you to lie absolutely still.
I'll give you another anaesthetic to put you to sleep in a few
minutes, but I can't put you too deep without better
monitoring systems." He leaned forward to lift her and she
pushed him away.

"I can get to the table on my own, Tom."

"I didn't convince you to lie here only to have you walking
around, increasing your heart rate again." He pushed her
down and scooped her up. "The more relaxed you are, the
better."

There was a blanket on the table, but it still felt cold and hard
after the carpet-mattress. Delaney laid a second blanket over
her. "You'll be cold when we transfuse the new blood."

Tom reappeared, hypospray in hand. "See you in a few
hours."

	=/\=

Quiet murmuring and the click of cutlery drew Janeway to
consciousness. The others were sitting at the table, discussing
how much of the ship should be sealed off to live in for the
long term. She lay still and eavesdropped, too tired to do
more.

Dalby wanted to heat as wide an area as the damaged decks
would allow. Delaney was leaning in his favour. They would
need privacy, and there was no telling how much damage the
creeping frost might do. Tom wanted to start small, conserve
energy. There were no small rooms nearby that would serve
as private quarters anyway.

Harrison was content to listen, until he saw her move.
"Captain."

Tom was on his feet in an instant. "Don't sit up, yet." He
scooped up a tricorder and began to scan. "I overestimated
how much blood you could lose. Your body will need a few
more hours to recover from the shock. How do you feel?"

"Tired." Her voice was rusty, and she realised her mouth was
dry. "Heavy. A little dizzy. Apart from that, I feel fine."

He propped a couple of pillows behind her and put a glass of
water with a straw carefully into her hands. "I've given
everyone a check-up to see if I'd missed anything else. Dalby
has some mild internal bleeding I'd missed, so I think he
would be best left here tomorrow. We were thinking
Harrison could assist Vorik while Delaney starts scavenging
through the ship. Collect parts, phasers, tricorders - whatever
looks useful."

Janeway released the straw. "That sounds like a plan. Don't
go too far, though, Ensign. I'd prefer that we stay in pairs as
much as possible for now."

"Understood."

Tom started filling hyposprays. "Nutrients. You weren't
processing food properly anyway." He nodded at the next
bed, where the Vulcan was deep in sleep. "Vorik's spine isn't
healing well. He should be in a stasis field, pondering the
teachings of Surak, not shifting through circuits. At this rate
the damage may become permanent."

"There isn't much we can do until we have the Doctor back."

He sighed. "I know. Give yourself a few minutes to wake up
properly and then I'll help you to bed."

"Finish your dinner. I'm more comfortable up here while
everyone's awake, anyway."

He nodded, understanding, and contented himself with
refilling her glass. "Let me know if you need anything."

	=/\=

Janeway woke deep in the night. Breathing was heavy in the
still room, and there was a cracking sound that she slowly
identified as grinding teeth. She propped herself up slightly to
look around, but the room was set in shades of black, the
shapes of the other beds crude silhouettes against the deep
grey of the walls.

She was lying half-on Tom, her left leg between his, and her
chest had been pressed against his ribs. She settled down
again, searching for the comfortable spot she'd just
abandoned.

It eluded her, bumps and bones intruding wherever she
rested, seeming to follow her as she shifted back and forth.
His arm was lying where she wanted her shoulder, and his
chest was the wrong height to position her breasts. His thigh
was solid between hers, a cord of muscle lying past her
crotch, rubbing as she moved. Burning. She froze as she
realised what she was doing, and then a hand settled on her
lower back.

The hand nudged her up until she was lying on him, her
crotch pressed hard against the top of his thigh, the soft ridge
of his forming erection digging into the delicate flesh inside
her hip.

Janeway turned her head away so that his shoulder was
digging into her cheek, and for a long time they stayed there,
unmoving. Their breathing fell into counterpoint, Tom inhaling
as she exhaled, exhaling as she inhaled.

She began to wonder if he'd drifted off again, pressed her
hips against him. He pressed up to her, and their hips began
to rock, somehow absorbing a rhythm from the breathing of
their companions.

The tension of the past two days slowly contracted, sliding
though her body to settle in her hips and lower spine, licking
forward as Tom tilted his hips up to hers.

Friction burned through her body even as cold bit at
Janeway's cheeks and ears. The air dripped down her neck
like ice water, melting at her centre.

Hot fingers slipped up under her jacket, unzipping her
trousers and waiting only a moment for an objection she
didn't make before pushing them over her hips and down her
legs. When he'd reached as far as he could she wriggled
them the rest of the way off and lifted up so that he could
push down his own pants.

She rested against him and snapped back. He was flaming,
inhumanly hot. His hold loosened, and she forced herself
back against him. Tom's hands pulled her harder against him
so she twisted her hips, taking him inside, forcing herself
open, the moment marked only by his quick intake of breath.

The first contact she'd had with a man in four years, and it
was a stolen moment in a room full of sleeping crew. She
rocked for a long time, rhythm unchanging, until she felt Tom
stiffen against her, his twisted breaths pulling at her hips, and
she slowly, gently, came.

	=/\=

The clash of pans woke her. The room was already bright
and warm, the fire burning high. She'd set the tricorder to go
off more quietly this morning, but evidently too quietly. She'd
slept straight through it.

Tom and Harrison were working on a hot breakfast while
everyone else slept, leaving Janeway the privacy she needed
to retrieve her trousers from the bottom of the sleeping bag.

She climbed out and crept into the adjacent bathroom to clean
up. Someone had left a flask of hot water and a cloth for a
sponge bath, so she cleaned up as best she could. She put on
a new uniform - there was no way to wash the old one, but at
least it could air a little - and pulled her unwashed hair back
into a ponytail. She felt surprisingly human. Even if she was
still peeing dark.

Tom was setting the table when she went back into the mess
hall, while Harrison woke Dalby and Delaney.

Tom looked up, face grim. "Nozawa has taken a turn for the
worse. He had mild convulsions about forty minutes ago.
He'll probably have more."

Harrison joined them. "I've been telling Tom he needs to stay
here today."

"There's nothing I can do, Captain. Either the Doctor will be
repaired in time, or he won't. In the meantime, all I can do is
watch."

Janeway put her hands on her hips. "Then I guess we're
going shuttle-hunting. When will breakfast be ready?"

"Five minutes. The darlot fruit are steaming."

"Thank you, Mr Harrison. Is there anything I can do?"

He shook his head, so she made her way over to Nozawa's
bed. It was hard to tell if he looked any different from
yesterday; everyone looked pretty exhausted. He'd been this
pale, hadn't he? Powell looked no better. Whatever
happened, it was out of her control, now.

Tom came over and handed her a couple of hyposprays.
"Breakfast. You haven't been processing your meals
properly, so you'll have to keep taking nutrients this way until
the Doc can fix you up. You can have a little to eat, if you
want something in your stomach, but it won't make much
difference. How are you feeling?"

"Much better." Janeway injected herself. "I think my
temperature has finally evened out."

Tom scanned her. "It has. Not great, but you should be able
to travel."

"Breakfast is ready."

Since she couldn't eat, Janeway organised Vorik's breakfast,
a hypospray special much like her own, that the Vulcan could
take lying down.

Vorik hid the humiliation of being cared for by his Captain
quite well, though he didn't have a fraction of Tuvok's control.

As soon as Tom had cleaned his bowl, he joined Janeway at
the clothes rack. They pulled on an extra layer of clothing
before helping each other into the environmental suits. With a
simple nod to the rest of their companions, they put their
helmets under their arms and headed out into the corridor.

Janeway shivered as soon as she stepped into the frigid air,
noticing Tom did the same. They shared a glance, and then
Janeway led the way to the Jeffries tube. The skis were
stored two decks down: an annoying delay, particularly when
it meant climbing ladders in suits, but the skis would make all
the difference once they got off the ship.

The headed through deck four, pretending not to notice that
they were stepping over the bodies of their friends, already
aged with drawn grey faces and frosted hair. They would
have to decide at some point what to do with all the dead - if
anything - but it was a problem to deal with later.

They picked out skis and stocks, and made their way astern.

	=/\=
		=/\=
			=/\=

Spirits. It was like a ghost ship. Their flashlights bounced
strangely off the thick layer of white frost that covered
everything; a chunk out of his past, out of him, literally frozen
in the ice.

Chakotay pushed back his hood and goggles, felt Harry do
the same beside him.

"Not exactly the way I remember it."

They found their way to a wall-panel. Harry brushed the ice
off with his sleeve, and Chakotay clipped a power cell to the
surface. Felt a little of the tension ease when the panel
flickered to life.

Harry's fingers flew over the keypad, instant familiarity.
"Power grid's been destroyed. Neural gel packs frozen solid.
Decks nine through fourteen are now deck ten. They've been
compacted."

Chakotay watched the information flash by. "Looks like they
hit the ice at full impulse." He should feel more than this,
shouldn't he? "The EMH?"

"I'm trying to access sickbay. The relays aren't responding."
The panel began to flicker. "I'm losing the interface - reset
the powercell!"

Chakotay started tapping buttons, but the panel went blank.

Harry's fist hit the wall "C'mon!"

"Let's get moving." Chakotay had to keep him on the job;
Harry with time to think was always a problem. "Keep an
open comm link."

Harry shifted off, and Chakotay headed for the turbolift shaft
to the bridge.

	=/\=

Chakotay hauled himself up through the floor of the turbolift,
cursing the thick snowsuit. Better than cursing his old body.
The doors were open, giving him a full view of the bridge.

Welcome home, Chakotay.

Frosted bodies at their posts, white silhouettes he might never
have recognised if they'd been somewhere else. If he hadn't
assigned them to these very posts on their last day.

He walked slowly past Ops, needing to give some passage to
these people before he turned to business. It was a
graveyard, like they'd had centuries ago on Earth, but these
people didn't need stones to mark their places.

The abandoned conn, set in white; the empty command level.

Kathryn should have been right here. He played his torch
around the stairs, needing to see her, but she wasn't there.
He turned back to the conn. Tom wasn't here either. He
hurried around to finish his circuit of the bridge. Tuvok, too.

"Chakotay to Tessa. Run a scan for lifesigns."

"Lifesigns?"

"Do it!"

He could feel her frown. "There's still too much interference-
"

"Harry to Chakotay."

Chakotay felt something curl in his stomach at Harry's tone.
"Go ahead."

"I'm in sickbay. Someone's been here recently, and I can't
find the Doctor's holoemitter. I've gone back to the corridor,
and there's a Starfleet issue door clamp on the door in front
of me."

Chakotay was already heading for the shaft.

===
end 3/5

-- 
The Emu's Feathers
X-Files and ST:VOY fanfiction
http://www.zip.com.au/~emu/genfic.html