"Where's Paris? Is he late for his shift again?" Janeway rolled her eyes. "All right Culhane you're free to go. Chakotay take the helm until Paris gets here. He shouldn't be too long."

"Me, Captain?" Chakotay hesitated.

"Do you see any other Chakotays on the bridge Commander?" she asked glancing around. Harry Kim and Tuvok pretended to be very busy at their consoles.

"All right," Chakotay shrugged and moved himself from his usual seat down to the conn. He shuffled in the seat. It wasn't nearly as comfortable as his first officer chair next to the Captain. You couldn't slouch at all when manning the helm. The chair simply didn't allow it. "Okay," he said to himself, running his hands across the console. "We are currently cruising at warp 7.5." Suddenly the ship lurched and jolted, causing the bridge crew to grab their consoles. "Oops, sorry," Chakotay apologised quickly, chuckling. "Didn't mean to press that button."

Janeway rolled her eyes again. She had not meant for anyone to see her rolling her eyes at her first officer, but Tuvok gave her a stern look. Tuvok always noticed everything. "No harm done, Commander," she frowned. "I just hope Paris gets here soon!"

He did. Even though he was only five minutes late, it felt like the longest five minutes ever because Janeway had to sit and watch Chakotay piloting Voyager. It was almost painful. When Paris finally strolled onto the bridge, casually giving some feeble, vague excuse for his lateness, she was very relieved. "Mr Paris, in my ready room," she told him sternly. "We need to talk!"

"Captain?" Chakotay glanced up at her.

"You have the bridge Commander. I hope this won't take long," she told him as she left.

"Look I'm really sorry, Captain." Tom repeated in the privacy of the Captain's ready room. "Like I said, I got caught up on the holodeck and…"

"Whatever," Janeway brushed off his excuse. "Tom, right now I couldn't care less why you're late."

"It wont happen again, I swear" Tom promised.

Janeway was pacing. "I don't care if it does, as long as I don't have to watch Chakotay piloting my ship like that again!"

"I beg your pardon?" Paris was surprised to realise that her irritation did not seem to be directed at him after all.

"At ease, Tom. The truth is I didn't ask you in here to reprimand you - although it makes a nice ruse," she confessed. "I simply want your opinion."

"On?" Tom prompted cautiously.

"On Chakotay's piloting." She lowered her voice despite the soundproof walls. "Tom, you are our best, most experienced pilot. I need your advice. How would you describe the Commander's piloting skills?"

"Seriously?" Tom was surprised and dismayed. "You want me to tell you what I really think?"

"The truth Tom," she nodded. "It's important."

"Okay." Tom thought quickly. "I'd describe Chakotay's piloting skills as… adequate."

"Adequate?" Janeway's eyebrow rose.

"… for a pizza delivery shuttle." Tom finished.

There was an awkward moment of silence, and then Janeway burst out laughing until tears were running in her eyes and she had to lean against the table.

"I was just joking." Paris assured her uncomfortably. "I didn't mean it. Honest."

"Relax, Tom. I'm inclined to agree with you." She wiped her eyes and took a seat. "The next question is, what is to be done about it? I'm sure Chakotay used to be a better pilot."

"He did," Tom agreed. "Especially in the Marquis days. He was formidable," Tom reminisced, casually taking a seat opposite the Captain. He made himself comfortable, putting his feet up on another chair, and stretching his arms behind his head. He rather enjoyed these occasional conspiratory chats in the Captain's ready room, despite the fact that they usually led to one of Janeway's devious schemes that inevitably put him in some sort of compromising position. "Chakotay's just out of practice I guess," he shrugged. "It happens. After all, practice makes perfect."

"So they say." Janeway mused. "Your own piloting, Mr Paris, comes very close to perfection."

"High praise. Thank you Captain," he glanced at her. Where was she going with this?

"Not at all," she smiled affectionately, almost flirting with him. "Which begs the question, how much do you practice?" she asked in a low voice, leaning towards him in confidence.

"We're still talking about flying, right?" Tom asked.

The Captain nodded.

"Just checking." She was after information. There was always something she wanted to know, and Tom could never lie to her when she fixed him with that gaze. "The truth Captain?"

"The truth," she insisted.

"Okay. The truth." He took a deep breath. "Aside from my natural talent, and the hours I spend at the helm, I guess the reason I'm a brilliant pilot is that…"

"Yes?"

"…I run a lot of piloting simulations on the holodeck," he admitted. "I always have, whenever I get the chance."

"I thought so," Janeway smiled smugly. "That's what you were doing just now?"

Paris was embarrassed that she'd figured out his secret so easily. "It's pretty dull on the bridge today," he explained. "I have to get my fix somehow."

"Your fix?" she asked in interest.

"That's right, Captain. I'm Thomas Eugene Paris and I'm addicted to flying," he grinned ruefully.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of Tom," Janeway assured him. "I just wish Chakotay had a more addictive personality. I doubt he's ever been addicted to anything, certainly not flying!" she said sighing in frustration. "But seriously Tom, I'm intrigued that you run simulations. Last time I checked, the standard Starfleet flight simulations were horribly dull. Surely a brilliant pilot like yourself needs a bit more of a challenge to 'get your fix' as you put it! So tell me Tom: what programs do you run exactly?" She waited for his response.

Paris took his feet off the chair and placed his hands on the table warily. "Captain, you want all my secrets," he accused.

"Not at all," she assured him innocently. "I'll be satisfied with just this one. For now."

"Okay," he hesitated. "I'll tell you - as long as I don't get in any trouble for it."

"Let's find out," she demanded, her voice turning cold all of a sudden.

Paris took a deep breath and explained. "The truth is, I do use the official Starfleet simulations, but I've made some… ah… modifications."

"Really? Such as?"

"I've changed the location to the delta quadrant. I've made the whole thing a lot more realistic and a lot more challenging. I've taken some of the safety protocols offline so that it feels more authentic. I've done quite a lot of modifications over the years," Tom admitted. "When I get bored, I think of something new to modify. That's what I was doing this morning, Captain. The latest modifications are ready to run," his eyes lit up. "It's gonna be a hell of a ride!"

She still said nothing and he couldn't read her expression.

"Look Captain, I know it's against protocol to modify those Starfleet simulations, but there you have it. You wanted to know my secret. That's it."

She paused. "It certainly is a breach in protocols Tom," she admitted. "You've told me all I need to hear." she grinned an evil grin. "You've given yourself away."

"Boy, you sure know how to play me Captain," Paris winced. "I can't believe I just told you. All I ask is that you let me run this latest simulation before you throw me in the brig."

"Tom!" Janeway was amazed he would think that, "I don't want to throw you in the brig. I want you to run your simulation!"

"You do?" Paris was surprised and confused.

"For Chakotay," Janeway explained.

"So he can throw me in the brig instead?"

"I certainly hope not!" Janeway exclaimed. "He can't very well practice his piloting in your simulations if he bans them! We did both agree that the Commander needs practice, right?"

"True," Paris admitted.

"He needs to be told," Janeway decided with a firm nod. "We have too many damaged shuttles as it is."

"Good luck," Paris told her. He was guessing Chakotay would be less than pleased at his Captain ordering his to brush up his piloting skills on the holodeck. Paris had seem the Commander when he was angry and was in no rush to see it again.

"Oh, I'm not the one who will be making the suggestion. That's your job Tom."

"What?" Tom paled.

"Be casual about it. Wait for the right moment. Pose it as a challenge. That'll get him in. Chakotay won't ban your simulations, Tom. He's Marquis after all. And who knows, maybe he'll find a new passion, or at least a hobby. He could certainly use one." She stood up and walked over to squeeze the lieutenant's shoulder. "I'm leaving this up to you. I trust you'll do what needs to be done. Good luck Tom."

"I think I'm gonna need it." Paris said to himself.

"One more thing." Janeway turned back. "As a Starfleet Captain, I cannot endorse your modified simulations, so this conversation never happened, are we clear?"

"Yes, Captain."

"And I don't want to see you late for another shift again, no matter what the reason. Is that also clear?"

"Yes, Captain."

Suddenly the ship lurched sideways, pushing Janeway into Tom's arms. "I think we need you at the helm, Tom," she told him, steadying herself quickly.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Let's go!"

He followed his Captain back to the bridge, and took the helm from Chakotay.