The Joke War
by Michelle Paquette
Part Seven
Tom and Harry arrived at Tom's quarters and entered inside. Harry immediately set to work opening the back of Tom's television set, preparing to integrate the newly replicated "Seinfeld" data. He glanced over at Paris, who was watching him work with only mild interest. "Hey, Tom," began Harry, "how about rustling us up some snacks for the marathon while I finish here?"
Tom nodded in his easy-going way. "I'll get right on it." He left for the mess hall, mumbling to himself as he went. "Let's see, we'll need popcorn... Oh, definitely pork rinds. They were such a hit at my Monster Movie Marathon last year…"
Harry shook his head in amusement. Then he continued to work on the television. He had almost finished when a buzz sounded from the door and he heard a voice outside. "Harry! Open the door, would ya?"
Harry recognized the voice to be Tom's. "Come in," he said aloud, so the computer would slide the doors open. The open doors revealed Tom Paris in the doorway. Harry saw immediately why he could not press the buttons to let himself in. Both of his hands were unavailable to do the task, as they were occupied with holding up two enormous trays laden with food.
Kim's eyes widened at the sight. "Did you buy out the entire mess hall?" he asked, only half-jokingly.
Tom smirked. "Very funny. We needed variety. How about giving me a hand?"
They managed to place the contents of the trays onto Tom's coffee table. The small car models he kept there had to be moved, and still the food barely fit. Harry lunged for a tubular enchilada as it threatened to roll off the table and onto the floor. Besides the plate of enchiladas, there was an enormous bowl of popcorn, one almost as huge of pork rinds, a plate of nachos with melted cheese and salsa, and twenty or so small hot dogs encased in dough. ("Pigs in a blanket," Tom pointed out as Harry looked at them questionably.)
Tom seemed unfazed by the amount of snacks he had acquired. "Want something to drink?" he asked Harry casually, and ambled over to his own personal replicator. "Personally, I could go for a nice cold brewsky."
"Um, just a crème soda for me," Harry put in.
"Alright, two beers coming right up."
Harry began to protest and then gave up passively. There was no point in arguing with Tom. "I have a shift tomorrow; I don't want a hangover," he mumbled, just loud enough for Paris to hear.
"You can't get drunk from one beer, silly," Tom admonished him. "It's obvious you're a real party animal."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Can we just get started, please."
"Okaayyy! Don't get your panties in a bunch." But they did not get started right away, because Tom insisted on enlightening his friend with the highlight of his experience in the mess hall. "You know, at first Neelix refused to let me replicate so much, but when I told him how rich I'd become, he was more than happy to accommodate me." He then handed one of the drinks to Harry, who accepted with a wary look.
Just then, the door sounded again. "Come on in," Tom announced cheerily, and in stepped Neelix, bearing a large, steaming pizza with the works. Harry’s mouth fell open. He couldn’t believe Tom had ordered even more food.
"Your pizza, Mr. Paris," Neelix said aloud with a small bow.
"Neelix, we were just talking about you," replied Tom. Then, to Harry, he said, "I told him to deliver our pizza when it had baked to perfection."
"And perfect it is!" Neelix said gleefully. "I topped it with a whopping seven types of cheese, from the traditional cheddar and mozzarella to more daring varieties like Haro and Ladersteind. And don't get me started on the meats! The violet and grey one, there, is a rare Doegariesian mountain hare. It is believed that if you eat the meat of this animal, you will---"
"Thanks, Neelix," Tom interrupted him. "But when I eat food, I prefer to leave something to the imagination."
"Fair enough," Neelix chuckled, and went on his way.
During the Talaxian's unsequestered speech, Harry had walked back over to Tom's television and finished tinkering with it. Now he began playing the first episode.
"You know why we're here? To be out, this is out..." Tom heard Jerry Seinfeld's disembodied voice blaring out from his TV set. "Hey, wait for me, would you?" he scolded Harry as he plopped himself onto the couch and grabbed for a handful of pork rinds. They watched the rest of Seinfeld's monologue in rapt silence.
When it was over, Tom motioned for Harry to pause the program. Then he shook his head. "I can't use that bit."
Harry resumed playing the episode. The scene had changed from the comedy club to a small café in New York. Jerry was talking to a friend.
"Seems to me, that button is in the worst possible spot. The second button literally makes or breaks the shirt. Look at it; it's too high! It's in no-man's land. You look like you live with your mother."
"Are you through?" The short, balding man with glasses who was sitting across the table from Seinfeld looked irritated.
At this, Tom laughed. "George is my favorite!" he explained to Harry.
* * * * *
Claire Jenkins glanced at herself in the full-length mirror in her quarters. Her appearance was 'sufficient', as Voyager's resident Borg, Seven, would say. But she could use a little more… Panache. A touch more flair. The short powder-blue dress she had donned was flirty to say the least, and flattering in all the right places, but still it seemed as if something was missing.
Then Claire gasped as she thought of the perfect addition to her outfit. Her great-grandmother's pearls! They would be sure to make a wonderful impression on The Doctor. And she desperately wanted to impress him.
Jenkins raced over to her bureau and opened the bottom drawer, where she kept the pearl necklace and earrings. Her great-grandmother had given them to her grandmother, who had in turn given them to her mother, who gave them to Claire when she was a young girl. They were a family heirloom, and she had only worn the set on very special occasions, such as her first date and her graduation ceremony when she completed high school. The pearls meant a lot to her, coming from her female ancestors. She took them with her whenever she was to be away from home for a period of time, and Voyager had now become her home. Claire pulled the velour box out from behind a small holo-imaging device in the drawer. As always, the sight of the pearls took her breath away. They were genuine pearls, from real oysters, not the kind of replicated pearls that were now found in quantity on earth.
She raced back over to the mirror and held the delicate ivory strands up to her neck. Stunning. Quickly, she threaded the metal hooks on the earrings into the holes in her ears and clasped the necklace closure around her neck. Then she took one last appraising glance in the mirror. The reflection was more than sufficient. She looked fabulous.
* * * * *
The pearls seemed to do the trick. Claire walked into the holodeck, fashionably late, and was delighted to see The Doctor’s eyes widen as he caught sight of her. She couldn’t have asked for a better reaction. Jenkins flashed the hot hologram her most flirtatious smile and quickened her pace. The holodeck had not yet been activated, and in a way this surprised Claire. She had expected a program like Sandrine’s Bar or Neelix’s resort program to be running.
"I thought I’d wait for you before we got started," The Doctor told her, as if in response to her unvoiced thought. "By the way, you look very nice."
"Thank you. You look quite dashing yourself."
The hologram glanced down at his outfit. It was his same old medical uniform; Starfleet issue. Nothing new. He smiled anyway. "Thank you. By the way, I apologize for being so vague in our conversation earlier. I meant to tell you why I requested your company."
Claire looked up at him through her lashes. "I think I already know," she said breathily, summoning up her most seductive tone.
He averted his eyes for a moment. "I... I’m not sure you do. I was hoping you could assist me. You see, I told Neelix that I would perform in a duet for his talent show, and I was hoping you might consider being my partner. I mean, our conversation in the turbolift the other day..." he trailed off.
It wasn’t quite what Claire expected. She had thought that this would be an actual date, but still, singing a duet with The Doctor would require hours of practice together, and the more time she could spend with him, the better. "Wow; I’m flattered," she answered. "I would love to be your partner."
"Great." The Doctor seemed relieved. "Shall we start by picking a suitable song?"
Jenkins agreed and they got started.
* * * * *
"You know, I think I finally figured out who George reminds me of. It’s been bugging me all night." Harry told Tom. They were on the last episode of the marathon, and both young men were very drowsy.
"Who?"
"Do you remember that alien we dealt with a while back, that really smart one who would solve problems? The captain called him and his friends a think tank. Kuros, I think his name was."
"Yeah, what about him?" Tom asked, his eyes drifting closed.
"That’s who George reminds me of! Don’t you see the similarity?" Harry asked his sleepy friend.
"No... I don’t... you’re crazy...” Tom’s eyelids fluttered shut and he began to snore softly.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Computer, what time is it?" he asked aloud. A reply was given to him, and he gasped when he realized how late it was. His duty shift was scheduled to begin in less than ten minutes. "Oh no oh no oh no!" he said to himself as he rushed around Tom’s quarters, trying to find his uniform jacket. Finally he spied it lying in a crumpled heap in one corner. Tom must have thrown it there. Kim snatched it up and began pulling his arms through the sleeves. Suddenly a sharp stomach pain hit him, no doubt caused by the types of food he had ingested. He collapsed to the floor. "Ohh… maybe Tom should have replicated some antacid…" he groaned, clutching his abdomen. Soon the pain subsided, and he headed to the bridge.
He arrived at the door, breathless, and burst in. Immediately several curious faces turned toward him. "Ensign?" Tuvok asked.
"I’m on time... right?" Harry asked worriedly.
"I believe your duty shift is in Astrometrics this morning." When he noticed Harry’s hesitation, the Vulcan added, "Do you need assistance?"
"Uh, no. I'm just a little confused." Kim muttered and backed out into the corridor. His cheeks were flushed beet red. He had never felt more embarrassed in his life. Of course his duty shift was in Astrometrics! How could he have forgotten? He had been working that shift once a week for more than three years!
He raised a cooling hand to his flaming cheeks and scurried off in the direction of the Astrometrics lab.
* * * * *
Seven was working on decoding a complex algorithm in Astrometrics when a panting Harry Kim trotted into the room. "You’re late," she announced in a matter-of-fact tone.
"I know; I’m sorry," Harry answered, hanging his head.
"Were you in a fight?" Seven asked, pointing to his uniform.
Kim looked down at his clothing and remembered his rumpled jacket. "No... It’s a long story," he sighed. "And it really doesn’t matter; there’s no one for me to impress."
"That is not an excuse for poor hygiene."
"I know," he mumbled.
"You can begin by bringing this data to B’Elanna in Engineering," Seven ordered, changing the subject. She handed Harry a PADD.
He gave a brisk nod and left the room. Seven watched him leave and then turned back to her console. Something Ensign Kim had said had made her think. He said he had no one to impress, but that was inaccurate. She was there. Harry's behavior had been uncharacteristic. Humans seemed to care a great deal about their outer appearances, especially if a member of the opposite sex was present. She recalled when she had been preparing for her date with Lieutenant Chapman, The Doctor had come into Cargo Bay Two and suggested that she do something different with her hair and clothing.
Perhaps she was not putting enough effort into her appearance. That could be part of the reason The Doctor failed to acknowledge her as a possible mate.
It was far from out of the question.
* * * * *
Harry winced as another wave of nausea hit him. He leaned heavily against the corridor wall outside of Engineering. Kim took a long, deep breath, and attempted to swallow the large lump that was threatening to slide up his esophagus. Finally the feeling passed, and he continued into Engineering.
B'Elanna seemed to be quite busy. When she saw him, she snapped, "What is it?"
Harry suddenly felt very dizzy. He got a strange expression on his face and thrust out his hand to give her the PADD. "Here-- take this. It's for you," he said quickly, and then added, "I--I think I'm going to be sick…" He dropped down to the floor as the nausea overcame him, and threw up, mostly on B'Elanna's boots. He stood up awkwardly. "Oh, gosh… I--I'm really sorry…"
"I don't have time for this!" B'Elanna said impatiently. "I'll bet it was Tom who put you up to it, right?"
Harry felt weak and confused. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh, come on. I've been to the joke booth. I've seen this stuff there. Tom told me the fake vomit was one of his biggest sellers." She pointed down at her feet. "It doesn't even look real."
"No, B'Elanna, you don't understand…" Harry started, but she cut him off.
"I understand well enough. It's just an infantile prank, just like the rubber banana peel in the hallway this morning. I slipped on it and nearly broke my neck. Now I'm very busy, so please collect your toy. I need to be getting back to work. Tell Tom his joke didn't work."
Harry's skin was beginning to take on a greenish tone. "B'Elanna--"
She let out a loud huff and reached down to pick up what she believed to be just a piece of brown rubber. The moment her hand came in contact with the substance, however, she retracted quickly. "Oh!" It was warm and sticky, and indeed real.
"I tried to tell you," Harry said. "I'm really sick…"
"Maybe you should get down to Sickbay," B'Elanna said more softly. "I'll clean this--" She shook her head as she changed her mind. "I'll get someone to clean this up."
"Okay," Harry replied weakly and left for Sickbay.
* * * * *
Tom, B'Elanna and Harry almost didn't recognize the mess hall as they arrived there for the talent show. It was decorated with colorful streamers and balloons and the room glowed in a soft purple light. "Boy, Neelix really outdid himself this time," Harry commented.
Most of Voyager's crewmembers were also present, including all nine of Voyager's senior officers, even Janeway herself. Everyone was milling around and speaking with friends. Tom, B'Elanna and Harry walked from table to table, glancing at the names that indicated where everyone was to sit. Finally they approached a table near the front and saw their names. It was a table for eight, and they noticed that they were to be joined by The Doctor, Claire Jenkins, Seven, John Phillips, and Tal Celes. The trio took their seats.
"Great; we're stuck at the loser table," Tom joked.
B'Elanna gave him a Look and turned to Harry. "So, are you sure you're feeling better?" she asked him. "Maybe you should get some more rest." B'Elanna felt guilty for being so rude to him the day before.
"No, I'm fine," he answered. "The Doctor gave me a shot of something with a hypospray and I was better than new in no time at all. But he insisted I take the rest of the day off. So I caught up on my sleep. Now I'm ready to party!" He grinned.
Tom looked again at the nametags and realized that The Doctor and Jenkins were seated next to one another. "So he decided to take my advice after all," he said under his breath.
Just then Ensign Phillips sauntered up to the table. "Neelix told me we're sitting with you guys," he said.
"We?" B'Elanna asked.
"Yeah, me and my date, Seven."
B'Elanna and Harry looked surprised, but Tom smiled. It was obvious to him what Seven was trying to do. She was trying to turn the tables and make The Doctor jealous. Either that or she actually liked this dufus Phillips.
* * * * *
"Phillips? I'm surprised to see you again," The Doctor called out as he neared the table, arm in arm with Claire Jenkins. He did not look happy to see the young man, since he knew he was there with Seven.
Phillips' expression mirrored that of The Doctor's. It was obvious that there was no love lost between the two of them. "I see you found yourself a date," he pointed out.
"Yes. Claire, this is Ensign John Phillips, Harry Kim, B'Elanna Torres, and Tom Paris."
Jenkins laughed. "I know them all, Doctor. I've worked shifts with them before."
The Doctor flushed. "Well, in that case, let's go look for our seats."
Harry spoke up. "Actually, I think you're here at this table with us."
"Great," the hologram replied half-heartedly. "Who else is at this table? Besides Seven, of course."
"Ensign Celes."
"I wonder how Seven will like that," B'Elanna put in. "I know she's not very fond of her."
"Ask her yourself," Tom said, looking toward the door. "Here she comes." He let out a low whistle, and they all turned to stare.
Seven was clad in a floor-length, slinky, scarlet gown. She looked the picture of perfection. Her hair fell loosely around her face in soft waves and it appeared that she had done something new with her makeup. The result was a more dramatic, sexy look. She was stunning.
Harry found he couldn't take her eyes off of her. It was as if she were a magnet, drawing him to her. Tom noticed this and elbowed him sharply in the ribs. Kim finally looked away.
Tom's rude action didn't help avert The Doctor's eyes, however. He stared openmouthed at the woman of his dreams. She looked more beautiful than he ever could have imagined.
Jenkins was watching Seven's entrance also, but when she turned away and saw the awed look on her date's face, she knew she had to act fast. "Doctor," she began, distracting him, "perhaps we should go through one more practice for our duet. We did only have one day to prepare."
Her diversion seemed to have broken him from his trance-like state. "Uh, I don't think that's necessary," he told her. She nodded and changed the subject, trying to keep his attention away from the beautiful Seven for as long as possible.
* * * * *
Seven spotted her date, John Phillips, at a table across the room. She was a bit startled to see The Doctor seated there with a young blonde woman. She felt disturbed and angry, but she remembered why she had agreed to go with Phillips in the first place. She wanted to make The Doctor jealous. She just hoped it would work.
Seven walked over to the table and John stood to greet her. They hugged, and for a split second, she thought she saw a hint of emotion in The Doctor's eyes before he looked away. Then she sat down, voicing a polite 'hello' to the others at the table.
"Seven, you look wonderful," B'Elanna told her. The invitation Neelix had given her had stated that the soiree was to be formal, but she herself had opted for a blue knee-length skirt with a plain white blouse. Tom, The Doctor, Ensign Phillips and Harry were all dressed in black tuxedos, and Claire Jenkins wore a sparkling ivory dress.
"Thank you," Seven answered simply. She darted a quick glance around the table, and saw that The Doctor was looking at her. When she made eye contact, he again looked away.
Jenkins introduced herself to Seven and then resumed her conversation with The Doctor.
Not to be outdone, Seven turned to Phillips and initiated 'small talk' with him. She tried to appear confident and as if she were having the best time of her life with her date.
From time to time, Seven glanced over at the hologram to see if he was looking her way. Desperately she searched for any sign that might indicate he was interested in her. But The Doctor didn't seem to be feeling one bit jealous. In fact, he seemed to be having a perfectly lovely time with Claire Jenkins. Seven felt foolish for ever believing Captain Janeway's strategy might work. It was obvious The Doctor didn't care about her romantically. Sure, he had seemed captivated by her appearance at first, but now he was back to chatting amicably with his date. Seven felt as if someone had reached into her chest and yanked her heart out.
* * * * *
The Doctor listened patiently as Claire Jenkins chatted with him about everything under the sun. It was obvious that she was infatuated with him. The Doctor noticed out of the corner of his eye that Seven kept glancing over. 'Could she possibly be jealous?' he thought to himself excitedly. Seven sure seemed to be bothered by seeing him with Jenkins. He couldn't get over the fact that a piece of Tom Paris' advice actually seemed to be working.
* * * * *
"Attention! Attention everyone!" Neelix clapped his hands together loudly and waited for the room to quiet down. When silence was achieved, he continued. "Please be seated, everyone. The first course is about to be served."
Everybody who had been standing made their way to their designated seats. At Harry's table, Tom was shifting restlessly in his seat. "What's with you?" Kim asked.
"Excuse me for a moment," Tom announced as he rose from his chair. He walked over to where Neelix was standing, taking a detour through the food area on his way. "Neelix! I just wanted to say thanks for letting me perform my stand-up routine tonight. I can't wait. I've got some killer material."
"My pleasure, Mr. Paris." Neelix beamed.
"The pleasure is all mine. I'm glad I can be a part of the show." Tom extended his hand for Neelix to shake.
The Talaxian's hand eagerly clasped Tom's. The smile on his face quickly changed into a look of shock as his hand suddenly felt numb. He felt a stinging sensation and yanked his hand quickly away. "What was that?" he yelped.
"A joy buzzer!" Tom exclaimed with glee. "Oh, you should have seen the look on your face..."
Captain Janeway heard the commotion from her table across the way and approached the area. "Gentlemen," she said, "What's the problem?"
Tom was laughing so hard he could barely speak. "I just used... a joy buzzer... on him!"
Janeway smiled and glanced over at Neelix, who was still recovering. "I see. Are you alright, Neelix?"
"Yes... I'm fine. Just surprised, that's all." To show he wasn't upset, he laughed a little.
"Well, as long as you're alright. I know those things can be pretty shocking."
Neelix nodded in response.
Janeway pulled Paris aside to speak with him. "Tom, try to keep your pranks to a minimum tonight, okay?"
"Okay," Tom answered resignedly. "I just have one more thing planned anyway. And it should happen any minute." He returned to his seat and waited.
Several crewmembers designated as waiters began bringing plates of food out from the kitchen area. Tom looked around excitedly. Soon after everyone was served, a scream rang out. It was a female ensign, who had stood up on her chair and was pointing fearfully at her dish of spaghetti. "Oh my God!" she cried out. "There-- There's a finger in my food!"
Paris burst out into uncontrollable laughter. His friends began to realize what was going on. Tom had shoved a rubber finger into the vat of spaghetti before it had been served.
Neelix rushed to the woman's aid, and soon she had calmed down. The experience had terrified her, however.
Several people at surrounding tables began picking gingerly through their own food. They looked as if they had lost their appetites. Neelix began feeling nervous. It seemed as if the evening had begun to turn into a disaster. He decided something needed to be done. He again called for attention. "Um, we're going to speed things along a bit," he announced. "I'd like you to put your hands together for our first act of the evening. Our good friend The Doctor will be performing a duet with Ensign Claire Jenkins!"
The Doctor was surprised that they were being called on so soon, but he understood the circumstances. He stood up and led Claire onto the raised platform that had been set up just for their song.
* * * * *
Seven heard Neelix's announcement and her mouth fell open. She couldn't believe what she had just heard. Not only had The Doctor invited Claire Jenkins to be his date for the evening, but he had also arranged for them to sing a love ballad together? Singing duets was something she had felt was special and unique between The Doctor and herself. She was crushed.
END OF PART SEVEN
