Title:  One Of Those Days
Author:  Shayney
E-mail:  ShayneyL@aol.com
Size: 9K
Rating:  G
Codes: H; K, P
Summary:  It's one of those days for Harry.


ONE OF THOSE DAYS

by Shayney


     Harry was running late.  He wasn't sure if the
computer had malfunctioned or he'd just slept through
his wakeup alarm, but he had only a few minutes to
shower, dress, and get to the bridge.  He hurried to the
bathroom, shedding clothes as he went.

     Drat.  The sonic shower wasn't working this
morning.  Maybe there *was* something wrong with
the computer.  He'd call it into Engineering once he got
to the bridge.  He got into water shower instead.  It
seemed to be working fine, thank heaven, spraying him
with warm suds.  It was only when he tried to rinse off
that things went wrong.  Instead of clear, clean water,
the rinse was...brownish.  And fragrant.  He yelled in
disgust, which of course meant some of the brown
water got in his mouth.  No, it wasn't sewage, he
realized.  It was...soup.  Chicken bouillon, by the taste.

     He recognized the prank immediately.  It was a
popular one at the Academy: programming someone's
shower to deliver soup instead of water.  Well, better
soupy than soapy.  He rinsed off in the soup shower,
then stepped out.   He could try to shower somewhere
else, but he didn't have time.  Maybe he could just
report in late...no, today was the weekly staff meeting,
first thing in the morning.  He couldn't miss that. 
There was nothing to do but dry off and get dressed. 
Hopefully no one would notice he'd been souped.

# # # # # #

     "Rough night, Ensign Kim?" the captain asked as
he entered the briefing room.  He was the last one to
arrive, and he knew he looked a bit bedraggled.  The
soup had matted his hair, and he couldn't quite get it
combed right.

     "No, ma'am," Harry said.  He didn't want the
captain to know someone had been playing pranks on
him.  She'd think he couldn't get along with his
shipmates.

     Harry took the nearest seat, next to Tom, and
tried to concentrate on the meeting.  B'Elanna gave him
a funny look, wrinkling her nose.  Yikes, could she
smell him from across the table?  Probably; she was
half-Klingon.  Harry felt his face grow hot.  

     Tom leaned toward him, sniffing.  "New
cologne, Harry?" he asked softly.

     "No," Harry said, looking at Tom suspiciously. 
The man *was* inordinately fond of practical jokes.  
      
     "You smell like...."  Tom sniffed again. 
"Chicken soup."  He grinned.  "Just like mom used to
make."

     Harry scowled.  Either Tom was responsible, or
he knew who was.  Harry did his best to ignore his
supposed best friend for the rest of the briefing.  

     After the staff meeting ended, Harry took his
station at Ops.  The previous shift had been perfectly
routine, as this one looked to be.  They were traveling
through a phenomenally boring section of space.  He
squirmed, feeling uncomfortably sticky.  The pungent,
spicy odor of the soup rose from his skin and hair,
tickling his nose.  He'd have to use his lunch break to
get a real shower somewhere.  The tickle in his nose
grew stronger, and Harry realized he was going to
sneeze.  He tried to stifle it, but it was too late.

     Tuvok noticed, of course.  "Ensign Kim.  Your
failure to control such trivial reflexes shows a lack of
discipline which is most regrettable in an officer of your
rank."

     "Yes, sir," Harry said, through gritted teeth.  He
wanted to sneeze again, but ruthlessly suppressed the
urge, biting hard on his tongue.  It was going to be a
long morning.

# # # # # #

     Harry practically bolted for the turbolift when it
was time for lunch break.  Tom followed, sticking to
him like glue.  "Aren't you coming to the mess hall,
Harry?" he asked when the lift stopped on deck two.

     "No."

     "Aw, come on."

     "No."

     Tom persisted.  "I hear Neelix has made a
*lovely* soup."

     At that point, Harry gave in to his undisciplined
reflexes and sneezed explosively.  Serve Tom right if he
got sprayed.  

     Tom wasn't at all fazed, though.  He leaned even
closer, putting his arm around Harry solicitously. 
"What's the matter?  Too much pepper in the soup?"

     Harry elbowed him sharply in the ribs, forgoing
any pretense of civility.  Tom backed off, laughing. 
"Grumpy, aren't we?"

     He gave Tom a withering glare and shoved him
out of the turbolift.  Harry  continued to deck four,
heading for Tom's quarters.  He'd use his friend's
shower, until he had a chance to de-soup his own. 

     Suspicious, he ran the water for awhile.  It looked
and smelled like ordinary water.  He threw his uniform
in the fresher, then got in the shower.  God, but it felt
good to wash the soup residue away, to finally feel
clean again.  He stood under pounding spray, eyes shut,
reveling in the sensation.  What a morning.  Though
now that it was over, he could see the funny side of
it....

     He was just starting to relax when he opened his
eyes -- and got the shock of his life.  Everything was
green.  Bright, fluorescent, eye-searing green.  For a
brief, terrifying moment, he thought it was a coolant
leak.  But it didn't smell like coolant, and he realized it
was just dye in the shower water.  Probably the very
same dye they used to color coolant, as a toxicity
warning.  He shut the water off as quickly as possible,
but it was too late.  His skin was noticeably green.
        
     Tom's sonic shower worked, but it didn't do
much to subdue the green color.  Harry peered into the
bathroom mirror unhappily.  The Doctor could
probably give him some kind of solvent that would take
off the color, but he didn't have time to go to sick bay. 
He could call in sick, he supposed, but he really wasn't
sick.  He was just the victim of a practical joker who
knew him all too well.  

     Sighing, Harry got dressed.  At least he was clean
now.

     The bridge was unusually crowded when Harry
got there.  Just his luck.  Even B'Elanna was there, at
the Engineering station.  She giggled like a schoolgirl
when she caught sight of him.  He'd have found it
charming if it had been someone else she was laughing
at.  

     And it got better.  Tom was leaning against the
Ops console, waiting for him.  "Harry, you okay?" he
said with mock concern.  "You, uh, look a little green
around the gills."  

     "Funny, Tom," Harry whispered.  "What did I
ever do to you anyway?"

     Tom ignored the question.  "You know, Har, I
think green's your color."

     Captain Janeway turned around before he could
answer.  Her eyes widened.  "Mr. Kim."

     "Yes, ma'am."

     "My ready room.  Now."

     Harry went, noticing with trepidation that
Chakotay was coming, too.  Man, he was really in
trouble.      

     Chakotay and Janeway sat at the table.  Harry
stood at attention in front of them.

     "What do you have to say for yourself, Mr.
Kim?" Janeway asked.

     "Nothing, Captain," Harry replied.  There was no
way he would rat on his best friend Tom, no matter
how tempting it was.

     "Nothing, Ensign?" Chakotay pressed.

     "No, sir."

     There was a long silence.  "Well," Janeway said
finally.  "I was going to say that you're no longer the
green young ensign you once were, but..."  She broke
off, laughing.

     "Harry," the commander said.  "At ease.  You got
off light, as promotional pranks go."

     "Wh-what?"

     Janeway smiled.  "The prank is supposed to wait
until after the official announcement, but Ensign Paris
is ever the nonconformist."  She held out a PADD. 
Confused, Harry took it.

     =....effective stardate 53351.2, Harry S.L. Kim is
promoted to the rank of lieutenant junior grade....=  

     He read it again, and it finally sunk in.  He
was...being promoted? "Captain!"

     "You've done a fine job, Harry," Janeway said. 
"Keep up the good work.  Now go back to your
station...Lieutenant."

     "Yes, ma'am.  Thank you, ma'am."

     In a daze, Harry went back out onto the bridge --
and got a standing ovation.  Obviously, they'd all been
waiting for this.  Even Tuvok looked...well, less grim
than usual.  Harry just stood there, grinning like an
idiot. 

     Tom rushed up to him, vaulting the railing in his
enthusiasm.  Unable to find any words, Harry showed
him the PADD he still held.  Tom gave it a cursory
glance, plainly already knowing what it said.  "It's about
time," he said, beaming with pride and delight.  He
grabbed Harry and ruffled his hair.  "Congratulations...sir."



-- Shayney

This is where I keep my fanfic:
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