Men of Trek: VOY Photoshoot

VOY
Location: The Garage

Artistic Direction: Kathryn Janeway
Camera: B'Elanna Torres
Models: Harry Kim, Tom Paris, Chakotay, Tuvok, Neelix, Holodoc
Client: Seven Of Nine
 

************************************* *

`Captain, why will posing the men and taking photos of them, make them more attractive sexually?'

Janeway planted a kiss in the small hollow at the base of Seven's throat, feeling the purr of her voice tingle against her lips. `I don't know, Seven. I just does. Even quite ordinary looking men can be made to look, well, sexy, when they're shot properly.'

`But why do it to the crew?'

Janeway grinned up at Seven, smoothing her blonde hair back over her forehead. `No real reason. Except that I can.'

**************

Tom Paris took a deep breath and smiled at the harsh fumes of diesel and thinners, and the stained and oil smeared concrete. His short black sleeveless t shirt was tight against his body, and his black denim jeans sat low on his hips. He reached up to stroke the fender of the shiny, red convertible that rested high on the hard stand; this action exposing a glimpse of flat, hard stomach and a soft trail of downy blond curls. `Beautiful. Just beautiful.'

`Excuse me?' Harry wandered over, trying to avoid the grimy work bench and the rolling trolley of power tools. His blue work singlet, and blue denim shorts showed his hard earned muscles to good advantage. Muscles that were normally hidden by an unflattering Starfleet uniform. His work boots were still shiny. `This place is a mess! Why couldn't we be on some beach somewhere if the Captain's so keen on team building?'

`Because that would be too easy, Mr Kim.' Janeway walked into the holodeck accompanied by her Chief Engineer. B'Elanna was wearing a video recording headpiece and carrying a small, still frame camera.

`Where's Tuvok? And Chakotay?'

`Here Captain.' The latecomers arrived; Chakotay, Tuvok, Neelix and the Holodoc. Janeway gave then half a "look".

`Have trouble with our outfits, gentlemen?'

Chakotay squirmed and fidgeted with his ancient and ripped King Gee overalls over his bare chest, and large steel capped work boots. He hated it. The only thing he did like were the large, black leather wrist bands on both arms. They felt nice.

Tuvok wore a white t shirt and an old denim jacket. His straight leg blue jeans had a rip under the back pocket, and the frayed cuffs hung loosely over his black boots. He fingered a red bandanna, holding it up to the Captain. `Do I have to?'

`Yes, Tuvok.'

Tuvok tied the bandanna around his head, adjusting it slightly

`That's better,' smiled B'Elanna.

`Better than what?'

`You'll see.'

`How about me, Captain? Is this what you wanted?' Neelix grinned nervously, in his khaki full length work overalls. Janeway studied him closely, shook her head, and reached for the welding mask.

`Here. Put this on,' she ordered throwing it to him.

`I fail to see the point of this exercise,' quipped the Holodoc. He wore a pale blue, neatly pressed, short sleeved, collared shirt with "Doc" printed in a red oval on his left chest pocket. His pants were navy blue with a thin red stripe down the leg. He wore a pair of white cotton gloves.

`You would,' muttered Janeway under her breath. `Ok, Doctor, it's like this. I know you people can service and maintain a warp engine and impulse drive, but can you do the same thing to a more primitive machine? Think of it as a team building exercise. Mr Paris has the technical ability and will direct the work. B'Elanna will record your progress. I get to watch.

`We need the engine removed, cleaned up, serviced and replaced. I want the paint work to shine and a full lube job. Can you do it?' Janeway smiled confidently.

`You bet, Captain!' Neelix enthused and Tom nodded as well. The others looked less than happy.

`Then get to it.'

Janeway found a slightly clean empty oil drum to sit on and waved B'Elanna over as the men started work. She whispered to her engineer.

`You know what to do?'

`Yes Captain. Damn! It's going to be great!'

`Shooosh! Just make sure Harry gets dirty. That boy is just too damn fussy. Hand him the lube gun. That'll fix him. And make sure you get some sweat in the picture. I want to see muscles, dirt and sweat. And watch out for Tom losing his temper at Tuvok. He looks so good when he's angry. And if you can get a shot of Tuvok smiling, there's another weeks worth of replicator rations in it for you.'

`No worries, Captain. It's as good as done.' B'Elanna nodded and went to work.

*****************

Janeway and Seven sat close together on the lounge. A large white screen was lowered from the ceiling in front of them in the darkened room. Janeway sipped her drink, enjoying the feel of Seven's thigh pressing against her and the hard, lean tone of her shoulder under her hand. She turned her head and spoke into the woman's soft hair.

`Ready?'

Seven shrugged. `Convince me.'

`As you wish.' Janeway clicked a button on a small black remote control. The screen showed the first photo.

A pair of legs showed poking out from under the car, one leg raised, lifting the hips up onto the castored dolly as the man struggled to adjust a shock absorber.

`Neelix?'

`Ah huh.'

`They're in black and white?'

`Colour is often a distraction.'

Seven nodded. Janeway clicked onto the next slide.

Chakotay sat crossed legged on the bench holding the carburettor and the air gun, gently blowing the part free of lint and grime. His back was hunched over the delicate operation, and his large bare arms were tensed as if the effort of being careful was too much. One of the straps of his overalls had popped off, and hung loosely down his back, unnoticed.

Seven's shoulder twitched beneath Janeway's hand.

`Seven? Thoughts?'

`It's like power, restrained. Who took these photographs?'

`B'Elanna. She's good, eh?'

Seven didn't reply. Janeway pressed the remote.

Two men were leaning over the open hood of the car; only their legs and backsides visible as they worked to adjust the fan belt. Tom's knee was raised to rest a foot against the shiny chrome bumper, stretching the tough, black denim tight against his butt. Tuvok's rip in his jeans was gaping open as he strained to reach a connection, showing a slice of dark skin between the pale, frayed material.

Seven crossed her legs. Janeway smiled.

The doctor rubbed a polishing rag hard against the chrome rim of the side mirror. The extreme close up showed him in the act of blowing a speck of dust from the mirrored surface, so it reflected his moist pursed lips and slightly puffed cheeks, and also caught the fine mist of condensation on the cold surface.

`The doctor.' Seven shook her head.

`Ah huh.'

`Hmmm.'

Harry Kim stood reaching up to a tyre with a power tool in both hands, intent on unscrewing the wheel nuts. His greasy hands clenched the tool, and he leaned into the job, his face frowning in concentration, a smudge of grease on his cheek. His bare shoulders were streaked with sweat and grime and his blue singlet had turned dark blue on his back and under his arms.

`Have you got the idea yet?'

`I'm getting there Captain. Any more?'

`A couple.' Janeway shifted her grip on Seven and ran a hand through the thick blonde hair, dragging fingernails over her scalp. She felt Seven take a deep breath and push back against her.

Chakotay, Tom and Harry all pulling on a length of chain to lift the engine block out. Their hands mixed and grasping hard on the thick black chain, the strain of lifting showing in their shoulders and faces. Harry was dirty now.

Tuvok standing at the workbench opening a new pack of brake pads, and caught in the act of turning as Chakotay lays a hand on his shoulder. He almost smiles.

And finally, the car is finished and needs fuelling. The last shot is Tom Paris, running one hand over his sweaty, tousled hair the other , holding the end of the petrol pump. The hand gripping the nozzle is smeared and black with grease, the handle droops downwards and a thin trickle of gas drips onto the stained concrete floor.

Janeway finally clicks the slide off, and the room is dark and quiet for a moment.

`Captain?'

`Yes Seven.'

`I understand now.'

`I thought you might. Come to bed?'

`Yes! But . . .'

`But what?'

`Um, does it work for women, too? The photos, taking them, being photographed. . . like, *that*.'

Janeway kissed her and felt the eagerness behind the kiss.

`I'll speak to B'Elanna in the morning.'

`Good. Thank you Captain.'

`My pleasure, Seven. My pleasure.'