by Dakota

Chakotay had nearly finished making breakfast when Kathryn walked stiffly out of the bedroom. She winced with every step.

"Still sore?" His concern was evident in his voice but was rewarded by a glare.  He shrugged and picked up her plate and cup and took them to her at the table, then gathered his own breakfast and joined her.

"It's your fault I'm so sore."

"Mine? You're the one who insists the fit is perfect day after day." Kathryn just glared.

"It is too your fault. If you weren't so big and tall, I wouldn't have to go through this."

"Why do you think you need such high heels anyway?"

"I'm the captain of this ship. I should command respect and authority."

"You do, Kathryn. Your boots have nothing to it."

"Tell me then, how can I command respect or authority if I can't even see over the shoulder of my first officer, and have to peek out under his arm like a little kid when I'm dealing with a new species?"

"Look, Kathryn, sooner or later you're going to have to go to the doctor and get that corn removed, and then get some new boots with lower heels."