Seven of Nine stepped onto the bridge and was astounded at the situation she found. Everybody, everybody, currently on the bridge was involved in some kind of laughter. Seven was familiar with laughter, but this was different, it seemed out of control. The Captain was doubled up on the floor, Chakotay seemed to be in some sort of stomach pain, Ensign Kim had tears running down his cheeks and so forth. Something was most definitely wrong.

"Forty seven!" Harry Kim squeaked and a new outburst of this absurd laughter rippled through the bridge. Seven raised her hand to slap her combadge and alert the Doctor, but was interrupted by Tuvok, who noted dryly, "Thirty-two," after which everybody was acutely quiet.

Chakotay straightened his tunic, Captain Janeway crawled back on her chair, Ensign Paris steered the vessel away from an asteroid and Seven heaved an audible sigh of relief. Whatever is was that had been wrong with her colleagues, apparently the spell had been broken by Tuvok's number thirty-two. Whatever that may have meant.

"Oh, oh, oh!" came Tom Paris' voice from the comm. Everybody turned in his direction. "One hundred six!" he said enthused and the whole ordeal started over again. Loud cries and hysterical screams erupted from the crew as they once again toppled over with laughter. Seven was truly alarmed now. The laughter was even louder than it had been before.

"Seven of Nine to the Doctor," she said as she hit her commbadge.

"Sickbay here, what is it Seven?"

"Please report to the bridge, immediately."

Moments later the Doctor entered the bridge and regarded the situation around him. "What seems to be the problem, Seven?" he asked as his lips curled up in an apparent chuckle.

Captain Janeway, alarmed by the Doctor's arrival and Seven's confusion had neared their location. She seemed to have regained control somewhat although she was still audibly snickering.

"We are quite alright, Seven" she said as she nodded at the Doctor. "We're just having some fun."

"It seemed more than some fun," Seven noted defensively.

"Okay," the Captain allowed, "we were having a lot of fun."

"I fail to see the humour in the number forty-seven," Seven responded.

"It's much more than just a number, Seven." the Captain elaborated. "You see, our duties leave us with little time for entertainment. But everybody needs a good laugh now and again. So instead of having to tell jokes, we decided to number them so we just have to say the number and everybody knows the joke."

Seven arched her brow and contemplated that information. "The number thirty-two is not a funny joke then?" she asked uncertainly.

The Captain giggled. "Thirty-two is extremely funny," she said and giggled again.

"I am confused," Seven said. "When Mr. Tuvok said thirty-two nobody laughed."

"He's Vulcan, Seven, he doesn't know how to tell a joke properly!"

Seven blinked. "What of one hundred-six then? You seem to find that one funnier? Is Mr. Paris good at telling jokes?"

The Captain wrapped her arm around Seven's shoulder. "Ah, number one hundred-six," she mused, "we had never heard that one before!"

The End ;)