Title: Vis a Vis Alt.  Ending
Author: Judy
Series: VOY
Part: REP 1/1
Rating: NC-17
Codes: P/T; J(P)/C

Repost:  I'm reposting this because I have produced a sequel and this story
should be read before the sequel.  This version contains minor editing,
mainly for clarity, from the previously posted version.

Summary: Vis a Vis ended with several unresolved plot issues: What
happened if Janeway woke up looking like Tom Paris?  Why was Tom
acting so badly before the alien took him over?  This story shows that
there are very good reasons why we didn't see the former and no good
reason at all why we didn't see the latter.  It's an alternative ending to the
episode.  Very alternative.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns 'em.  The story is mine.  Copyright 1998.

Warning: Chakotay and Janeway have explicit sex but Janeway's body
looks like Tom's.  No one under 18 better read this and if the description
of this story doesn't appeal to you, please read elsewhere.  The story
assumes a prior sexual relationship between Janeway and Chakotay.

An R version of this story is now on my web page.  The R stands for
"reneged on the explicit sex!"

Comments are welcome!  jlf@door.net.


Archive: ASC/ASCEM.   Please leave all disclaimers and warnings intact.


Vis a Vis: Alternative Ending
by Judy

The last thing I remember before the phaser beam zapped me was me
choking me.  When I woke up in sickbay it was only natural that I felt
confused by that last image.  For some reason I didn't open my eyes right
away.  Perhaps I suspected what I would find when I opened them.

When I put my hand to my forehead, I was startled by the size of the hand:
large, wide, long fingers.  That got my attention and my eyes flew open.
The first thing I saw was blond hair on my forearms, lots of blond hair!
Undeniably, a terrible disorder had befallen me while I was out cold.

Then I felt my throat, it was a little sore to the touch.  Funny, I thought I
was the one who did the throttling.  But my distress increased when I felt
the size and shape of the neck.  There was an Adam's apple and the
roughness of a late-in-the-day beard as my hand moved up to my chin.

"Ah-h!" I screamed.  And it was not my voice.  I put my hands to my head
and found that my hair had been butchered.

It was time to explore the rest of my body, but I was tense with
apprehension.  It took a moment to gain the courage to conduct that
investigation.  It was as bad as I feared.  No breasts to speak of.  A very
long distance from there to my groin.  And, oh, dear no.  Absolutely not
my body.  This body had a penis!!!  I couldn't look.  I closed my eyes tight.

The doctor had heard my scream and stood over me.  I was finally able to
open my eyes when he called me Lt. Paris!

"No!"  I said and then stopped, absolutely silenced by the sound of my
own voice, or rather someone's voice, but not mine.  The voice I heard
coming out of my mouth was that of Tom Paris!

"I see you've decided to rejoin us, Lt."  The doctor had that smug smirk on
his face that made me want to deactivate his program immediately.  But he
was my only source of information at this point.  When I felt my chest,
there was no comm badge there (no breast either, but I guess I said that).
"Doctor, what happened?"

"Don't you remember?  You were doing your best to choke the captain.  I
realize your inferiority complex has led to displaced aggression, but really,
Lt. . . ."

"No!"  I protested.  "I *am* the captain!"

"Of course you are.  Hm-m.  The tricorder showed no signs of serious
injury, but you were unconscious for a considerable period of time.
Perhaps . . . "

"Doctor," I grated out as best as I could using Tom's tenor, "I am Captain

Sitting up was an interesting experience.  My weight was in all the wrong
places and the doctor had to help me.  "I need to see a mirror."

"Follow me, Lt."

"Captain," I insisted stubbornly.

"As you wish."

This time he didn't use any rank at all.  I stared at this body in the mirror.
Dear gods.  Taller, heavier, male, younger, much younger.  Tom Paris.
"Thank you very much for this cosmic joke.  Given Tom's behavior lately,
I wouldn't put it past him to create this illusion.  Now," I demanded in my
best command voice, "I want my body back.  Game's over."

"There is no game," he said with surprising gentleness for the doctor.

"You're right about that," I said grimly.  How strange to continue to hear
Tom's voice say my words.  I touched my hair as I gazed into the mirror.
Awful.  Didn't that man know anything about fixing his hair?  This would
never do, but until I could get my body back I figured I was stuck with this
monstrosity of a hair cut.

I was about to ask the doctor to get Chakotay down here when B'Elanna
Torres stormed into sickbay.  The woman seemed so tiny from the
advantage of my newfound height.

"Tom Paris, what the hell did you think you were doing!  You acted like a
total jerk in the transporter room and now I hear you tried to choke the
captain!  If I didn't know you any better I'd say you'd lost your mind.  But
then we both know it's not your mind that's been doing your thinking

"Lt.," I interrupted her tirade.  She was one furious woman.

"I'm not finished yet!"

I used that command voice they'd taught us and fixed the 'Death Glare' on
her.  I hoped Paris' baby blue eyes could carry it off.  "Lt!"  She finally
subside in shocked silence.  "I am not Tom Paris.  I am Kathryn Janeway."

"Yeah, sure.  This isn't funny, Tom.  If I wasn't so mad at you, I'd . . ."

The doctor had been scanning me, but directed his comments at B'Elanna.
"Lt.  He could be right.  I'll have to do some further genetic tests, but an
earlier scan found the presence of DNA from two people."

"Doctor, I hope you're not in on this with Tom," she warned.

While they sparred I was forced to pay attention to this body.  I felt a
distinct discomfort in the body's *equipment*.  Apparently, proximity to
an angry half-Klingon was an arousing stimulus to Tom Paris' body.  Gods
knows how he developed such reactions.  I had absolutely no desire to
know.  (All right, honesty compels me to admit that I did have
considerable curiosity about this phenomenon, but I was not about to let
the doctor know that.  He was far too smug as it was.)  I felt a certain
tightness to my uniform pants.  This was exquisitely embarrassing.  Did
men's bodies really react like this?  No thought what-so-ever, just

I turned away and whispered to the doctor, "I need something for *this*."
I really didn't want to have to spell it out in front of B'Elanna.

"You mean for your erection?" the doctor asked merrily.  The man was a
sadist.  My appreciation for Tom's dissatisfaction with his sickbay
assignment grew considerably.  The doctor continued fatuously, "It will
disappear when Lt. Torres leaves."  Pointedly, he looked at her.  "Lt."

I blushed.  I could feel it.  This hot flush spread up from my neck through
my cheeks and inflamed my entire face.  I cursed Tom's fair complexion.
For her part, Torres smirked.

"Nice going, Tom.  Whenever you want to stop thinking with your
hormones, let me know,"  she teased.  "Helmboy."

So she still thought I was Paris and she was still angry with him.  Given
the betrayal of Tom's body, about which I wished to hear nothing further, I
let her go.  The blush cooled down, the erection subsided, and I wanted to
crawl into the nearest Jeffries tube and never emerge.  Al least not until I
had my body back.

"Where's my body?" I demanded but my voice cracked and my authority
faded as fast as Tom's erection.  (That's right, I was going to blame all that
on Tom, after all, it was his body.)

The doctor beeped for Chakotay and asked him for Janeway's
whereabouts.  Chakotay's calm voice replied, "She's here on the bridge.  Is
she needed in sickbay?"

"Perhaps not, Commander, but I believe you are."

The commander was there in record time.  Something in the doctor's voice
must have clued him in that he was really needed.  Although I realized he
probably thought it involved Tom Paris, I was glad to see him.  If I'd had
my own body, I'm sure there would have been a physiological reaction that
the doctor could have commented upon.

When Chakotay saw me standing up, he barked, "See here, Paris, if you're
awake you're going to the brig.  You've caused enough problems for
yourself.  I'd like to throttle you myself."

Oh-h.  Chakotay, my (Janeway's) protector?  From the perspective of Tom's
height, he wasn't quite as tall as I remembered, but he certainly looked . .
.  fierce.  On my behalf.  I was touched.  I watched as he checked that
security was still inside the sick bay doors.  Grabbing my arm roughly . . .
oh-h-h, I think I liked that . . . he growled (yes, he growled), "Let's go,

"Chakotay.  It's me.  Kathryn."

He said the same thing B'Elanna had said.  "This isn't funny, Tom."

And once again the doctor intervened to talk about the dual patterns of
DNA.  Apparently, the doctor had time to run some tests.  "Commander.
I've run a thorough analysis.  This appears to be Paris' body.  But this is
Captain Janeway."

I moved closer to him, putting up my hand to touch him as I often did.  He
blanched and started to back away.  "Chakotay?"

"Hold it, please.  That's Tom's hand touching me."

I stopped in mid caress.  I decided to play up to his protector mode.  "Oh,
Chakotay.  That's not him.   It's me.  I feel so disoriented right now.  I
could use a hug?"  I put the question in my voice in hopes that he would
find me in need of his manly strength.

He looked shocked and sputtered, "Uh . . .  K--Ka . . . uh, maybe another

"Please, Chakotay," I put abject begging into Tom's voice.  "I feel so

Carefully, I took a step closer and he stood rigidly still, hands pressed to
his sides.  No hug there, obviously.  I wasn't sure if his lack of response
was because I was in a male body or because I was in Tom Paris' male
body.  I almost cried.  "So.  That's how it is."

He did look torn, but about what I couldn't be sure.  I think it was revenge
for his nonresponsiveness that made me do it.  Or maybe some
mischievous residue of Tom was responsible.  Solemnly, I said,  "I need
your help with something."

"Yes?"  It was clear he didn't know what to call me, Captain, Kathryn, or
Tom or what.

"I've never used this body before. . . "

"Yes?"  What a delicious look of dread appeared on his stern face.

"Could you show me how to make it urinate?"

I thought he was going to hit me.  He sputtered a few times and then I saw
a glint in his eyes and a dimple that played hide and seek on his face.  The
commander was recovering rather quickly from his initial shock.  "Now I
know you're Tom Paris.  No one else who was in so much trouble would
dig himself in so much deeper.  Doctor, are you finished with this
charade?  I have better things to do than to help Tom play with himself."

Oh, my.  I laughed.  "Chakotay, it really is me."

"Prove it."

With no levity at all I used a word from a story that he had told only me.

"Oh, no," he breathed in sharply as the truth hit him.

I closed the distance that had built up between us and put my hand on his
cheek.  "It is me."

Clearly he wasn't sure if my touch was welcome, not if it came from the
rough hand of Tom Paris.  I asked, "Is the problem Paris?  Or any male?"

In response, he pulled me to him and kissed me roughly.  This was very
strange.  Here we were on almost the same level, I was even slightly taller.
I didn't have to lean upwards as I usually did.  And my mouth was wider
than usual and my nose longer and this seemed a little awkward and
incredibly exciting.

The doctor cleared his throat.  "Ahem.  I suggest you take this to your
quarters.  Chakotay's would suffice until we decide who belongs in the
Captain's quarters and who belongs in Paris' quarters."  He raised his
tricorder on us and firmly suggested, "Your physiological levels indicate
the need to engage the ship to ship transport now."

Safely in Chakotay's quarters, we picked up where we left off in sick bay.
Chakotay's mouth was all over mine, his hands were all over my body as if
feeling it for the first time.  Considering it was Tom's body, and Chakotay
was supposed to be in love with *me*,  I hoped it was for the first time.
He told me, "This is so exciting, Kathryn.  To have you here and Tom's
body under my hands."

He was breathless with excitement and I felt his erection pressed against
me.  Against my own erection.  "Yes," I moaned under his hands when he
gave my mouth a chance to breathe.  "Yes."

We undressed each other with a speed I wouldn't have thought possible.  I
gasped when I looked down and saw my naked body, the flat chest, the
red-blonde curls, the shaft of vibrant flesh that waved up towards my
belly.  Our only sounds were moans and groans of lust.  Dizzy, I leaned
into Chakotay.  He caught my arms and led me to his bed.  It was a
familiar bed.  We'd lain there often, had sex there, slept there spooned
together.  But now my body took up all this space and Chakotay looked so
different through Tom's eyes, through Tom's reactions.  A clitoris was
wonderful, but a penis could throb so incredibly and, when touched, could
send electric sparks throughout my body.

Fire burned through him as if he needed a consummation before common
sense or reality or whatever doused the flames.  He fumbled at the bedside
table and pulled out a tube of lubricant, one he'd used many times before
when he put his fingers inside my vagina, when I'd had one.  Now, I felt
my eyes grow wide as I realized where those fingers were going to go.  His
mouth was once again on mine and he was moaning my name and Tom's
as if we had one name between us.

His hands pressed between my legs as my thighs burned from his touch.
He pushed the legs roughly apart and pulled a pillow under my hips, hips
that were twitching with desire.  My legs fell apart as far as I could spread
them.  One slick finger insistently pushed its way inside my rectum and
then pulled out partway.  I think I groaned and I know I wriggled my hips
to bring him back.  Two fingers returned and put pressure inside that tight
opening.  As his fingers hit something inside me I almost exploded and
bucked up under him at the intense sensation of his strokes.  All the while
Chakotay kissed me and said "KathrynTom" when he could.  I moaned
under his mouth and said, "Do it, do it, Chakotay."

"Oh, Gods," he breathed.  "Making love to Kathryn and fucking Tom
Paris.  Oh, yes, oh yes.  KathrynTom."

He raised my legs, long, long legs, over his wide shoulders and positioned
himself.  When he thrust inside, it was painful and hot and exquisite.  I
wanted more, lots more.  All I could say was "Chakotay, Chakotay . .

Then he plunged in and he filled me, wide and deep.  His body was hot
and heavy and his cock pounded with lust, a lust that was familiar, but
with sensations that were otherwordly.  And I sensed an uncontrolled fury
that sent him inside my body as if he wanted to pound it into submission.
Or pound Tom Paris into submission.  But that was my last even semi-
rational thought as my own cock strained against the friction of his body.

As my nails dug into his back, one of his hands reached between us and
grabbed my cock in a slick embrace.  I shuddered with the power of that
strong hand on this unfamiliar part of my body.  His hand pulled in time
with the rhythm of his thrusts into my ass.  My muscles clenched around
his cock and my head fell back.  His kisses followed me and what I
experienced was as intense as a warp core breach.   I screamed out loud as
I felt the contractions of my body in orgasm and the sticky spray that
spurted between us.  Then I felt his body convulse.

His engorged penis pulsed and pulsed inside my spasming muscles and I
heard his echoing scream.  He fell on my body,  still inside me, our sweat
and semen-slicked bodies stuck together.

His hands trailed across my hair and light kisses feathered my rough
cheeks.  Softly, he murmured, "Kathryn, Tom, Kathryn."

"Chakotay.  That was . . . " I had no words to describe the sensations that
had gone through me.  He slowly pulled out in delicious torture and I
shuddered again.

Normally, I would want to talk after sex, but this time my body felt so
drained and depleted I couldn't find any strength to speak.  I let my eyes
close and plopped a languid arm across his back.  I didn't want to move,
even if it meant remaining in the wet spot.  My other hand fell across a
part of my chest not covered by his body.  Once again, I startled at the
sprinkling of hair and the small breast and large nipple I found there.  I
had almost forgotten about this body in the heat of its final coupling with

Chakotay moved slowly onto his side, his arm across my chest, his hand
on top of mine, the still sticky fingers weaving slow patterns on the hair he
found on the back of my hand.  Those hairs would be disturbing if I didn't
feel so wonderful.

It felt great, a total depletion of the body in sex.  My thoughts idled as I
considered the ramifications of sex in this body.  Since I was no longer in
a female body I could do to Chakotay what he had just done to me.  Maybe
not right now, but very soon I would broach the topic with him.

As my thoughts played with the idea of my being inside Chakotay, I could
feel a stirring in that organ that had so recently given its all.  I regarded
him from under hooded eyes.  He looked so satisfied, so sated.  I trailed
fingers across his face, down his chest, down and down.

I'm not sure at what point he caught on that I was doing my best to arouse
him once again, but his hand landed on mine as if to keep it still.  "What
are you doing?" he grinned.

"I have plans for your body," I told him.

"Hmm, what kind of plans?"

I leaned over him and whispered in his ear, "I want to be inside you."

He froze, his body went absolutely rigid and I thought I had perhaps gone
too quickly.  But then his cock poked me in the belly and apparently spoke
for him in a voiceless language all its own.  Chakotay told me, "I'm too old
for this. . . "

"Oh-h, I don't think so," I challenged him back.

"But . . ." he spluttered.


"Dammit, you look like Tom Paris!  You sound like him.  I don't know if I
can . . . " He cast about for another reason.  "Besides, I should be on the

"Oh, Chakotay, let me get this straight.  It's okay for you to fuck Tom Paris
up the ass but it's not okay for his body to return the favor?  My, my
Chakotay, I thought better of you," I purred.  "Besides, Tuvok's on the
bridge keeping an eye on the alien."  I swear I don't know what possessed
me to forsake duty for sex.   The novelty?  The exquisite physical
sensations?  But I wasn't thinking then with my brain.  I rubbed against
him and he seemed to lose all powers of speech.

I concentrated on keeping him that way.  With Tom's strength I was able to
roll him onto his back, not that he put up any resistence.  Before too long
all I heard from him were moans and sounds of encouragement.  I found
that tube of lubricant and generously applied some to my fingers.  I slid
one inside of him easily and moved the finger in and out and around and
around until I felt his whole body move back into my hand as if trying to
capture it.  Another finger and finally another and I felt his opening stretch
for me, loose and hot.

Chakotay was moaning and telling me to do it, do it, his ass moving back
and back, his legs spread widely.  I slapped his bottom sharply and heard a
sharp hiss as I pulled his hips up so that his rounded butt was a beacon in
the cabin drawing me in.   My own erection demanded entry and I slicked
it up with generous amounts of the gel.  Then I placed the tip of my penis
at the puckered entrance to his body.  Oh, dear gods, this felt unbelievable.
And then I plunged inside and lost myself in the sensations that traveled
up my cock and into my abdomen and short-circuited my brain in ecstacy.

Only a few thrusts and I was gone, throbbing as I became one with a hot
organ that emptied itself into a slick, tight, welcoming channel.  I groaned
aloud at the intense pleasure of it all and pulled out only when I was so
soft I could stay inside no longer.

If Tom didn't get his body back, maybe it would not be so terrible.  From
the look of bliss on Chakotay's face he might have been thinking the same
thing.  Although I'm not sure that a tricorder would actually detect
measurable levels of thought in either of our brains.

Before either of us could fall asleep or say anything he was beeped to the
bridge.  We listened together as Tuvok told him that the Captain had said
she was going to sick bay but instead had taken the shuttle with the newly
installed coaxial warp drive.  Chakotay groaned as his spent body
protested the necessity of moving and thinking.  Finally, he asked Tuvok,
"What does she say?"

"She is not answering our hail just now."  Tuvok's voice was muffled as he
was called away.  When he returned he said, "Steth's ship has just
approached.  Steth claims to be Tom Paris."

"I'll be right up," Chakotay said.  He went to the bathroom and brought
each of us a warm, wet cloth to clean off with.

"I need to be there," I told him as we both dressed hurriedly.

He looked at me as if realizing I was Kathryn after all, not his fantasy
lover that somehow combined Tom and me.  It was something we would
both need to talk about when I regained my own body.  I wondered what
Tom would think if he knew.  Actually, I intended to keep this our secret
and I hoped that Chakotay felt the same way.

But there was no time for further speculation as we sped to the bridge.  I
found myself swinging my arms as I usually did, but the motion felt wrong
with Tom's long arms and I almost stumbled as I momentarily thought
about walking.  It was almost impossible to walk in this body and think
about walking at the same time.

Well, in true Voyager fashion, Tom, in Steth's body, caught Steth in
Janeway's body.  Of course, it turned out it wasn't really Steth.  The real
Steth was a woman.  Fortunately, the doctor was able to restore us all to
our rightful bodies.  He said he beamed out the DNA that was not ours and
put it in the person that it belonged to.

A few days later, Tom Paris was in my ready room.  He looked sheepish and a
little afraid. I tried not to think about making love to Chakotay in his
body but it was very difficult to keep an impassive look on my face.

"Yes, Tom."

"Uh. . . Captain.  I need to apologize."

"Yes?"  I wasn't going to make this easy for him.  After all, he'd been
acting out well before Steth ever arrived in ways that had been noticed by
just about everyone, including me.  He shuffled his feet and looked a little
green as he stood there.  Given the sick look on his face, I finally relented
a little and invited him to sit down.

"I want to explain.  I've already apologized to B'Elanna . . . " his voice
trailed off and he looked off to the side.  "I know I was screwing up before
Steth arrived on the scene and made things worse.  But I . . ."

I softened my voice, "You were on your way to undoing a lot of your good
work of the past four years."

"I know.  Something happened, something that I had a hard time with."

I looked into the blue eyes I had so recently looked out of and wondered
what he was talking about.  He seemed pale and sweat had popped out on
his forehead.  "Tom?"

"It's nothing. I just have to get this out.  And it's hard, 'cause you knew
. . . you worked with . . . my father."

"This is about your father?"

He nodded.  "It was awhile back.  At first, when everyone was getting
letters, I didn't want to hear from him.  I was afraid of what he would say."

This was a very vulnerable Tom Paris, one with no trace of the bravado
with which he often tried to meet the world.  Softly, I remembered, "But
you didn't hear from him."

He looked away again, then returned his gaze to my face.  This was
difficult for him and I no longer wanted to make him pay for the acting out
we'd seen not so long before.  "It's all right, Tom."

"Thanks, Captain.  But I'm not sure it is.  You see, there was a letter from
the Admiral.  B'Elanna hid it from me.  She didn't want me to see it."  He
sighed and looked miserable.  "Harry found it when he ran a check on his
communications back-ups.  Harry didn't even look at it, just got all excited
as if it had been from his parents, and gave it to me."

"I take it that it wasn't good news."

He snorted.  "That's an understatement.  He . . . my father . . . holds
everything against me.  All my mistakes, the effects on the family, on
him."  Taking a deep breath he continued, "And B'Elanna didn't tell me.  I .
.. . I just wanted to run away and hide.  I couldn't face her, I couldn't tell
anyone what it said.  Harry just assumed it was good news and I let him
think it.  I didn't want to disappoint him.  I didn't want B'Elanna to know
that I knew."

His eyes had filled with tears, magnifying the pain in them.  "Oh, Tom.  I
am so sorry."

"So am I, Captain.  I'm disappointed in myself.  I thought . . . I thought I
had grown up, that I could deal with things, with him.  I let you down, I let
the ship down.  I let myself down.  I am so sorry, Captain."

He wiped the perspiration off his forehead but, if anything, his face turned
whiter than it had been.  I wanted to reassure him but I was concerned
about how he looked.  "Are you all right, Tom?"

He seemed to choke and put his hand up to his mouth.  He whirled and ran
to the sink, vomiting into it.  I came up behind him as he rinsed out his
mouth.  He looked as ill as he'd sounded.  I was puzzled, but before he
could say anything I had us beamed to sick bay.

The doctor wanted me, Chakotay, and B'Elanna to join him around the
biobed where Tom lay still.  His color had returned but he didn't look well
at all.

He asked the doctor, "What's wrong?"

Smiling widely, the doctor said, "As I told you all, restoring your DNA
was done by taking out of you the DNA that was not your own and then
putting that DNA into the appropriate body.  Then your body returned to
its normal state when its own DNA was restored to it.  However, there was
a small glitch. I should have more carefully checked what I removed and
more carefully noted Steth's abilities to get around security arrangements."

After that speech, all eyes were on the doctor.

"I don't understand," Tom said, trying awkwardly to sit up.  Chakotay gave
him a hand and I raised an eyebrow over the length of time his hand
lingered on Tom's arm.  Was it just a millisecond too long?  Tom,
however, seemed oblivious to such subtleties.  In fact, the act of sitting up
seemed to drain Tom and he looked ill once again.

"Lt. Paris?"  The doctor waved the tricorder at Tom and said, "You're all
right, Lt."

"All right?"  Tom protested.  "I feel like shit."

B'Elanna gave the doctor her own version of the Death Glare.  Maybe she
had forgiven Tom.

"You are all right, Lt.," the doctor reassured him.  "However, you are

At that point all hell broke loose.

The end.