Marooned by Mandy
Summary: One more time they were marooned on some mudball of a planet. They never crashed anywhere with pristine beaches and swaying palm trees. It was always either deserts, rocks or mud, separately or in combination, and this one was muddy to the extreme. Written for Darksusie for her birthday
Categories: Chakotay/Paris Fanfiction Characters: None
Genres: none
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 1 Completed: Yes Word count: 881 Read: 2496 Published: 06/03/09 Updated: 06/03/09

1. Marooned by Mandy

Marooned by Mandy
One more time they were marooned on some mudball of a planet. They never crashed anywhere with pristine beaches and swaying palm trees. It was always either deserts, rocks or mud, separately or in combination, and this one was muddy to the extreme.

They couldn't stay in the shuttle - no, the commander decided they had to get out and explore. The path, it might have been a path although what used it Tom wasn't sure, was clear of obstructions and the sensors indicated a deposit of ore that Engineering would positively weep over somewhere not too far ahead. So that was enough for Chakotay. They would investigate the ore deposits while they waited for Voyager to answer their distress call and retrieve them sometime soon.

It must have been raining heavily within the past few hours as the ground was particularly slippery. Tom's arms circled wildly for a few frantic moments as he strove to keep his balance after stepping on a hidden rock. It did him no good and he fell, landing awkwardly on his left hip. He colored the air with a litany of curses. Chakotay's laugh rumbled over the top as he made his way carefully back to Tom.

Tom grasped the outstretched hand extended toward him after Chakotay steadied himself on the most solid pieces of ground he could find. His mud-covered boots couldn't seem to get a purchase on the slippery ground. He dug in his heels again. At the same time, he felt his hand, also decorated with the grey-brown mud, begin to slide through Chakotay's fingers and reflexively he pulled back harder.

He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing as the commander flailed alongside him on the ground, thoughtlessly decorating his forehead with a muddy hand. By the time they'd managed to regain their footing, little could be seen of their black and red of Starfleet uniforms.

“Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea,” acknowledged Chakotay ruefully. “We should return to the shuttle.”

Tom shook his head. “We'd never get properly cleaned up in there; the replicator is off line. Not enough water.” He held up his tricorder he'd managed to keep hold of although it was now most likely permanently inoperable. “This had indicated running water only a few hundred yards away. Maybe we can clean up there. We'd just have to be careful getting back,” he offered uncertainly.

Chakotay shook his head. “We didn't even get fifty yards from the shuttle. We'll just have go back, try and make the best of it.”

“I still think if we cleaned the worst of the mud off and cut some poles to test the ground...”

They may have debated for some time, but the clouds opened and heavy raindrops fell, lightly at first, landing with loud plopping noises on the mud. Both men looked up to the sky and then turned each other. White teeth gleamed in smiling faces as the rain grew heavier.

“Problem solved,” said Tom, and without waiting for orders he began stripping off his uniform jacket as he headed carefully for the shuttle. He ignored Chakotay's comments regarding the amount of mud he tracked into Cochrane and quickly appeared back with a couple of storage containers. Already bare-chested with his muddy clothing in the top container, he set them on the ground to catch the now steadily pelting rain. His boots ended up next to the container rather than inside, carefully tipped to keep the insides from filling with water. Pants, sock and briefs landed in the tub to join his jacket and turtleneck, and then Tom stood arms akimbo, his face tilted up to sky.

Eyes closed, he revelled for a moment in the cool water, then began wiping his fingers over his face. He wished he'd thought to bring a face cloth out with him. His musings came to an abrupt halt when a startled 'oof' sounded in his ear and he found himself face first in the mud, pinned there by the weight of the first officer.

“Chakotay,” he wheezed.

“Sorry, Tom. I slipped.”

The slippery mud actually aided Tom for once as he tried to twist out from under Chakotay. He planted a muddy hand on Chakotay's chest - his relatively clean, unclothed chest – at the same time as one of Chakotay's knees bumped his hip. He didn't bother to conceal the smirk that covered his features as he drew a breath, tensed his muscles, flipped Chakotay onto his back and promptly subdued him with one of Tuvok's fancier hand-to-hand combat holds. He took advantage of the few seconds he knew he'd have before Chakotay retaliated to smear a handful of mud on his torso.

Tom held his breath as he waited for Chakotay’s reaction. The positively feral grin reassured him and then it was no holds barred as they wrestled in the mud.

They never crashed on a planet with pristine beaches and swaying palm trees, but Tom decided there was now a certain mudball planet that had good points of its own if you had to choose somewhere to be marooned for a while.

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