She had always had a taste for the forbidden, the more complex and provocative the better. She tried to ignore the pull on her sense, willing it to go away but slowly losing the battle.
Reaching forward, she hesitated, glancing around her guiltily and let out a sigh of relief when she noticed there where no signs of her to wardens, with a crooked grin and a delighted laugh, her hands wrapped around her treasured prize. She held the tiny, metallic cup tenderly within her small hands as she breathed in deeply the rich aroma and brought it reverently to her lips for a cherished sip.
She froze and turned to look into the disapproving eyes of her first officers, panic flashing across her face before she quickly concealed it.
“Kathryn, what did the Doctor say?” Chakotay asked.
Kathryn scowled at him and hugged the precious cup against her chest, refusing to part with it. ‘It was hers; he could get his own damn cup!’
“Kathryn, you know the Doctor said that you can’t have coffee until the baby is born.” He chided, trying to pry her death grip away from the shiny cup.
“But Chakotay,“ she cajoled, smiling sweetly and batting her eyelashes innocently at him. “It’s not real coffee.”
“It looks like coffee and smells like coffee,” Chakotay replied exasperated, not falling for her act. “If it’s not coffee, what is it?”
“You don’t believe me,” she replied, pouting.
“Not where coffee is concerned.” He retorted, with a snort. “Give it up, Kathryn.”
With a haughty sniff and a level ten death glare, she passed the half filled cup into his out stretched hand and glared angrily at his retreating back as he made his way towards the replicator to place the treasured java upon its evil ledge.
Her blue eyes filled with unshed tears as the replicator erased the tiny cup but before it disappeared she cried out in a desperate plea for mercy, “It’s only made with leola root, Chakotay!”