Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager and all of its characters are the property of Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: "I'm sure there's some Starfleet regulation about captains making the worst patients."

Author's Note: As usual, I'm pinning this one on Seema, or rather on a stray comment she made. Regardless, it's her fault. Many thanks for that, as well as for her usual excellent beta.
Impatient
By Rocky

The sickbay doors parted dramatically as Chakotay dashed inside--and promptly collided with a small wheeled cart. Various gleaming medical instruments went flying, but Chakotay's progress was not impeded or slowed down in any way. Indeed, it was impossible to tell if he'd even noticed. "There's something wrong with the Captain!" he exclaimed.

The Doctor raised one eyebrow, a trick he'd picked up--literally as well as figuratively--from Tuvok during his last matrix overhaul. "What do you mean, Commander?"

"Paris told me that she--" Chakotay broke off sharply. "You're joking, right? Tell me you have no idea what's going on!"

"I can assure you," the Doctor said, rising to his feet and coming out from behind his desk, "that the Captain's condition is stable." He waited for Chakotay to apologize for the havoc he'd wreaked, or at the very least start cleaning up the mess. When neither action was forthcoming, the Doctor sighed and proceeded to take care of it himself--as usual. "The operation went well: there were no complications--not that you'd expect any, it's a pretty routine procedure though granted, even with medical transporters and dermal regenerators it's still surgery--and with proper rest and nutrition, she should be back on her feet in approximately one week."

"One week," Chakotay said, stabbing with his finger in the air. "That's the recovery time for normal people, correct?"

"Seven to ten days is the recommended convalescence period, yes." The Doctor paused momentarily from in his task and looked up at Chakotay quizzically. "During that time, the patient should refrain from lifting heavy objects or being on her feet for prolonged periods, but barring any bleeding or other untoward symptoms---"

"Has the Captain returned to active duty yet?"

The Doctor shoved the last of the fallen instruments back into the sterilizing chamber and wondered if he should include a hearing recheck at the Commander's next physical. "Of course not. As I was saying, one week is the--"

"Has she badgered you to allow her to return to duty already? Said anything about how she has to get back to the Bridge?"

"What exactly has Mr. Paris been telling you? The Captain has done none of those things."

"Aha!" A grim smile of triumph appeared on Chakotay's face. "Did she demand to be released from Sickbay immediately after she woke up from surgery? No? How about the next day? You're telling me she lay meekly in the biobed until you told her she could go back to her own quarters?"

"The Captain underwent a major abdominal procedure--any normal person would require at least a few days' recovery period, and in Sickbay the monitoring process is better--"

"This is Captain Janeway we're talking about, remember?" Chakotay cut in. "The woman who hates being in Sickbay--hates being ill, for that matter--and never admits to any weakness even when she's more than half dead?"

"Now that you put it that way--"

"And you're telling me that Captain Janeway has been docilely spending time in Sickbay, and now her quarters without once setting foot--or attempting to--on the Bridge? She's following medical advice without any complaint whatsoever, and we don't have a problem?"

Any reply the Doctor would have made was lost as Chakotay stormed out of Sickbay, looking like a man with a (validated) mission.


Chakotay punched in the emergency access code and barreled over the threshold of the Captain's cabin. He stopped abruptly--reaching out to steady a small ornamental table that for some reason was wobbling precariously--and scanned the room rapidly.

"Why don't you come in and make yourself at home, Commander?" Janeway said mildly as she looked up from her PADD, seemingly unperturbed at this unexpected invasion of her privacy.

Chakotay didn't reply, as he was too busy nodding to himself. Just as he'd suspected, the Captain was not in bed. At her desk doing work, of course! He opened his mouth to chastise her. Until he realized she was on the sofa, in a half sitting, half reclining position.

He quickly rallied, however. It didn't make a difference where she was--the point was that she was doing work. Against medical advice. He strode over and snatched the PADD out of her hand.

"You know you shouldn't be reading this," he admonished. "This isn't going to help your recovery. Instead, you should have left it for me or Tuvok. One of us would have been glad to give you a brief summary."

Janeway inexplicably looked amused. "Granted it's not the most enlightening or deepest thing I've ever read, but it is diverting. And while I can't speak for your reading preferences, Commander, I'm fairly sure Tuvok's tastes don't run toward the romance genre."

He glanced down at the PADD in his hand. "'Roderick strode through the doorway, his naked sword in hand, bracing himself for the sight that would confirm his worst fears,'" he read aloud. "'Instead, a small feminine form--still ravishingly lovely despite the hardships of her long captivity--flung itself into his arms. "My love," he said wonderingly. "You're alive." "I swore that nothing would keep us apart," Esmerelda declared passionately, "not war nor pestilence nor even Death himself--'" Chakotay broke off, unable to continue. "What in the name of the spirits is this?"

He scrolled to the title page. Instead of a report on the recycling efficiency of the solid-waste converters he was expecting, in ornate purple and gold script he saw "Krill Warriors of Kalandan." He hastily put it down.

"May I have my book back, please? B'Elanna had promised to lend it to Jenny Delaney, and I had to pull rank to get it first. And only if I promised I'd be done with it by mid-week."

Silently, he handed it over, not missing the smug smile on her face. He hurriedly switched gears. "Well, I'm glad you're not wearing yourself out over reports, but what about eating and taking care of yourself properly? You know the body needs the right fuel to--" He broke off when he noticed the lunch tray sitting on the coffee table. "Uh, you've eaten. Good. But," he waggled a finger at her, "did you get up yourself to get it? You know you're supposed to be resting! And standing on your feet, wrestling with a replicator is not the way to do it!"

Janeway let out a long-suffering sigh, but kept her eyes on her novel. "I'm not prohibited from walking around a bit, Chakotay. But as it happens, Seven brought me the meal from the Mess Hall, prepared with special care by Neelix, and watched to make sure I ate it." Her lips twitched. "It appears I have no shortage of people looking out for my best interests." She looked up. "That's what this is about, right? You're here to check up on me, and see that I'm behaving myself?"

"Yes," he blurted out. "I mean, no. I mean…" He gestured futilely with his hands. "I'm just concerned that you're behaving a little too well, that it's not like you to not be on the Bridge already."

"I did just have surgery, Chakotay."

"That never stopped you before!"

Janeway laid her PADD down. "Now you're contradicting yourself. You're upset I'm not acting like myself in terms of demanding to be up and about, but at the same time you came in here all hell-bent for leather, ready to yell at me if I was, Heaven forbid, doing any work instead of concentrating on my recovery. And you seem disappointed to find out that I am, in fact, 'behaving.'" She shook her head, seemingly more curious than angry. "You can't have it both ways, you know."

"Don't try and confuse the issue by changing the subject. I'm sure there's some Starfleet regulation about captains making the worst patients."

"Well, you're always telling me I shouldn't be so slavishly devoted to Starfleet regulations." Janeway patted the sofa next to her. "Are you ready to sit down and tell me what's really bothering you?"

Only slightly mollified, he took the proffered seat. "You can't really blame me, based on your track record. And I am concerned about you." Quickly, he added, "We all are."

"I know." Janeway sighed. "Yes, normally I would have been rarin' to go but it's occurred to me I should take this time to get completely well. That I should listen, for a change, to what my body is saying. After all, there are many challenges ahead. I won't always have the luxury of taking the time to make a full recovery before the next crisis erupts." She put a hand on his arm. "I'm touched by your concern, Chakotay. Really. But stop hovering. I've been getting enough of that from Seven. And Tuvok. Not to mention Neelix and his 'special creations to tempt my appetite.'"

Chakotay repressed a shudder. "Now that's a fate I wouldn't wish on anybody." He looked down at her arm, still resting on his sleeve, and covered it with his own. "So you're saying I shouldn't be worried."

"I'm feeling fine, Chakotay, or as fine as can be expected." Janeway smiled. "I'm actually enjoying myself, if you want to know the truth. Just reading, resting, not having any responsibilities. I wouldn't want to do this on a permanent basis, but it does make for a nice change at the moment."

"You do look pretty good. Uh, that is, the bags under your eyes have started to disappear."

"That's what happens when you get two naps a day, in addition to a full night's sleep. You should try it sometime, well, maybe not the naps but the part about getting more sleep." Janeway paused, and he knew she was making note of the rumpled uniform, the additional lines in his face that hadn't been there last week. "You look pretty rundown yourself."

"It's not easy carrying the burden of two roles," he said defensively.

"I know, and I'm sorry," Janeway said. "I also know I've left my ship in pretty capable hands. In the meantime, though, you can make it easier on yourself. No sense in trying to be a martyr."

"Oh, really, Kathryn? Did I ever tell you about this ancient legend of my people, about a pot calling a kettle black?"

"It takes one to know one," she shot back. "Now, I do have some suggestions for you, if you're willing to listen."

"You're the captain."

"I'll take that as a yes. First of all, there is no need to 'assist' Tuvok in determining new security protocols and deal with past breaches. You don't have to add 'security chief' to your current list of duties. He's fully capable of handling it on his own."

"All right. Anything else?"

"Stop breathing down Tom's neck on the bridge. Let Harry sit in the center seat more often, and not just on the occasional 'night shift.'"

"You've got it all thought out, apparently."

Janeway smiled. "It's amazing how adequate rest and relaxation can improve one's clarity of thought." She picked up her PADD once more. "I'm glad we've got that settled."

He recognized a dismissal when he heard one, but he was strangely reluctant to leave. "Is there anything I can do for you? Maybe get you a drink of water?"

"No, I think I'm just going to read a bit more and then go to sleep."

"In that case, I'll hang a 'do not disturb' sign on your door." He rose and took a step, then turned back. "What if the Borg attack?"

Janeway yawned. "Oh, just tell them we'll give Seven back if they go away and leave us alone."

"What?"

Janeway laughed. "Don't look so shocked, I was only joking. Honest."

Chakotay shook his head and proceeded to the door.

"But don't tell me the thought hasn't crossed your mind at least once."

"I'm not going to dignify that with a response." Chakotay paused. "I'll see you back on duty in three more days. That's a minimum, you understand. "

"Goodnight, Chakotay. And thank you. I really do appreciate your concern."

He turned back to see her smile. "You know, if you want, I could tuck you in…"

She gave him a sharp look. "There's a limit to my gratitude, Commander." Her look softened. "But you could stop by and see me tomorrow."

"I'll be here," he promised.

"I know you will."

FINIS

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