This story, like the episode that inspired it, is a sequel to Demon II: The Party's Over. You should probably read it first if you haven't already. Enjoy!
The afternoon sun approached the room with some trepidation. It suspected that light had never entered there before. Streaming cautiously around cigarette burned curtains, it swam through the thick, musty air to land on the olive green shag carpet. When it seemed that its appearance had not been noticed, the sun continued its nervous tour of the deathly quiet room, sliding soundlessly across drained beer bottles, empty cheesy poof bags, and the occasional unconscious body of one of the previous evening's revelers. Pausing briefly to glisten off a congealing pool of spilled beer, the sun considered its course carefully. In the dark recesses of the room, two figures sprawled awkwardly together on the broken down carcass of a large, orange chenille couch. Target acquired, the sun leapt across the remaining distance to land squarely in one of the prone figures' eyes.
"Uhhhh…" groaned B'Elanna, trying unsuccessfully to rub the light from her eyes. When it occurred to her that sunlight was not something that could be removed in that manner, she raised her head weakly from where it rested on Tom's chest to consider the light's source. Finding the offending open curtain, she growled, "If somebody doesn't close that curtain in the next ten seconds, somebody is going to get hurt. That somebody is you, Tuvok."
Crammed ungracefully into an armchair directly below the window, Tuvok listlessly reached one arm up and twitched the curtain shut forcing the sunlight to flee the room altogether. Tuvok massaged one throbbing temple, being careful not to move too quickly, and moaned quietly, "It's hard to believe you've become such a nag after less than 24 hours of marriage."
"Marriage!" B'Elanna shouted, only to grimace in pain at the volume of her own voice. Tuvok glared briefly at her and then closed his eyes to massage his other temple as well. Her eyes registered the fact that Tuvok was wearing a pink satin bridesmaid's gown but her brain refused to acknowledge it. Clutching her aching head, B'Elanna continued more quietly, "I'm not married, Tuvok."
"On the contrary," Tuvok countered, twisting around gingerly to prop his pounding head against the back of the chair. He demurely pulled the hem of his gown down to cover his slip. "You and Tom were married last night. I was the maid of honor."
"If I wasn't so hung over, I'd kick your ass," B'Elanna whimpered. Pushing her matted hair out of her eyes, she regarded Tom sleeping beside her on the couch. There was a cheesy poof ground into his hair and a bite mark on his cheek. That was suspicious. Sudden fear stabbed through her already queasy stomach as she looked at her own left hand and saw the dime store ring stamped "Reverend Bob's 24 Hour Chapel of Love". She grabbed Tom by the shoulder and shoved him bodily from the couch, shouting, "What have you done to me!"
"God, B'Elanna" Tom said, wincing in pain. He lay where he had fallen, one arm twisted excruciatingly under his torso, unable to move. "Is that any way to treat your old man when he's hanging?"
"Why would I want to get married?" B'Elanna had finally achieved a reasonably upright position. Limbs splayed out for balance, she leaned forward to glare at Tom. A sudden sensation of draftiness alerted her to yet another unusual situation. She quickly crossed her legs. Fighting her growing nausea, she said, "Tom, do you happen to know why I am not wearing any underwear?'
"You didn't have a garter," Tom groaned as he finally extricated his trapped arm from under his own body. The effort left him panting and weak. "So instead of a garter we tossed your panties."
Curled up under the coffee table, Vorik clutched a pair of black lace bikini underwear to his chest and muttered softly in his sleep. "I want to kiss the bride again..."
"Great, this is just great," B'Elanna snarled, clasping both hands to her head again. The room started to wobble precariously around her. Her stomach lurched unevenly as she stood and lunged toward the bathroom. "I think I'm going to be ill!"
"B'Elanna, don't be like that!" Tom called weakly after her from the floor. He stretched one hand out towards the bathroom but could not find the energy to pursue her any further. He said, "I've got a few bucks left, we can rent the Jungle Room at the Fantasy Inn for an hour. It'll be our honeymoon!"
Violent, guttural sounds came from behind the closed bathroom door. In the corner, a spotted scalp covered with thin tufts of fuzzy orange hair emerged slowly from under a giant pile of empty beverage cups. Blinking sluggishly, Neelix said, "You should try the Palace of Pleasure, the rates are better."
"Maybe we could get two hours...…" Tom's voice trailed off as he lapsed back into unconsciousness. Tuvok found his eyes closing as well. He kicked off his pointy-toed, high-heeled shoes and curled more comfortably into the armchair. Silence briefly encased the room again, only to be broken by the sound of arguing approaching from one of the back rooms.
"What do you mean you don't want to be my girlfriend?" Harry whined, stumbling at the heels of Seven of Nine. He was naked except for a couple of strategically placed pillows he was clutching to his body. Seven, dressed in last night's party dress, looked remarkably fresh despite a huge run in her pantyhose and a large hickey on her neck. Harry begged, "Didn't last night mean anything to you?"
"I fail to see the benefit of a monogamous relationship," Seven said, pausing briefly to apply lipstick in a small hand held mirror. She pursed her lips in discontent when she caught sight of the hickey before being distracted by the sight of Tuvok, "Are those my Cole Hahn pumps? You better not have stretched them out, Tuvok!"
Tuvok twitched slightly in his sleep and mumbled, "Always a bridesmaid, never a bride..." Gathering B'Elanna's bouquet to his chest, he started to snore.
"Seven, please, we have so much in common." Harry pleaded desperately, ignoring Tuvok.
"You know, pink is a good color for him." Seven said briefly. Then she shook her head as if to clear it and turned to regard Harry candidly, "Get a grip, Harry. Look at me. I'm a total babe. I could have any man I wanted. I would have to be an idiot to tie myself down to one guy."
"But, I really want to see you again." Harry whimpered, sagging visibly in the face of her logic.
"I didn't say we couldn't have sex again. I just don't want to be your girlfriend." Seven said in exasperation, rolling her eyes. She reached down to pull her coat from the pile by the door. As Seven swept out of the house, she chimed over one shoulder, "I'll call you. Really!"
"We can have sex again..." Harry said slowly, realization making it's torturously slow way into his brain. His eyes grew suddenly wide at the sound of her car pulling away. He dropped the pillows and rushed for the door. His voice drifted back into the house as he sprinted after her, "Wait! Seven! Maybe you should give me your number!"
"Thank god they're gone," Neelix muttered. Standing up in a rain of beverage cups and cheesy poofs, he wandered over to the now vacant couch and slumped down on it. After a brief search under the cushions, he located the remote control and snapped on the TV. He propped his feet up on Tom's prone body. As his head lolled back against the couch, he murmured, "Oh good, Jerry Springer is on."
By the time Janeway and Chakotay emerged from the kitchen, Neelix was completely oblivious to their presence. Leaning heavily against the wall, Janeway said feebly, "I can't believe all they have to eat in this house is ketchup and a half a fuzzy green bagel."
"It wasn't that great either," Chakotay said, grimacing slightly. The bagel wasn't sitting too easily on his stomach. "Even with the ketchup on it."
"I can't believe you didn't save me any," Janeway complained in a whisper. She locked her knees to keep herself from sliding down the wall. "We're going to have to go get some food. I can never beat a hangover on an empty stomach."
"Are you sure about that?" Chakotay said, staring longingly at the Jerry Springer show and the blank look on Neelix's face. "Maybe we should just stay here."
"Get your car keys." Janeway said tersely, closing her eyes briefly to stop the room from spinning. "We're going to MacDonald's."
Fifteen minutes later, Janeway and Chakotay pulled their ancient sedan into the drive-through at MacDonald's. Squeezing her eyes shut, Janeway put her head back against the head rest and said angrily, "I don't care what you say, Chakotay. That was Harry Kim we saw running naked up Franklin Boulevard!"
"Why would Harry- " Chakotay began only to be interrupted by a burst of static from the intercom.
"Welcome to MacDonald's. Like, can I take your order please?" a disinterested, adolescent female voice said quickly.
"Yeah, I'd like a quarter pounder with cheese, supersize fries, chocolate shake, and a cherry pie." Chakotay said, then glanced at Janeway. "Make that two quarter pounders with cheese."
"Get me a happy meal and a diet coke," she hissed. "Unless the toy sucks."
Their order complete, Chakotay drove up to the first window. A teenage Naomi Wildman slid the window open, her face fell when she saw them. Tugging at her itchy polyester uniform in annoyance, she groaned. "Oh, it's you two again. Great... Well, that will be like, $7.69."
"Kathryn?" Chakotay said expectantly, reaching out one palm to her. He was starting to feel lightheaded.
"I left my purse at the house," Janeway answered, leaning forward to rest her forehead on the dash. "I always pay. Why don't you pay for once."
"Somebody is going to have to pay for this," Naomi snapped in irritation. She squinted angrily at them from under her MacDonald's visor. "My manager told me not to let you two have any more credit."
"But, I don't have any money." Chakotay protested feebly. "And we're both really hungry."
"Why don't you go tell somebody who cares." Naomi fumed, slapping the window shut. She hated it when her Mom's friends showed up expecting a hand out.
Chakotay looked at Janeway. She had fallen asleep against the dashboard, only her seatbelt kept her from sliding down onto the floor. He sighed and drove slowly away from the window. His head felt so heavy. As he sat waiting for a break in traffic so he could get back on the road, he rested his head against the steering wheel. Before Chakotay knew it, his eyes were closed and even the sound of his own horn could not wake him.
Naomi pulled open the drive-through window and stuck her head out to observe the car stopped in the MacDonald's driveway. She could hear the horn blaring and vaguely see two figures slumped forward, totally motionless. With a sigh she pulled her head back in and shouted, "Could somebody call a tow truck? My Mom's friends have passed out in the drive-through again!"
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