Star Trek: Voyager
"Voyages of the Soul"
Episode VIII: Touching Souls
by
Disclaimer: Star Trek: Voyager and the Star Trek backstory and universe is owned by Paramount etc. I'm just borrowing the characters for a while.
If You Don't Know By Now: Women who love women appear in detail in this story. If you are underage or this material is illegal where you live, or if this kind of story is not what you're interested in, please read something else.
As always, any comments are welcome at: shaych3@yahoo.com. Flames will be recycled as litterbox liner.
To my beta readers: thank you, thank you, thank you.
Naomi Wildman, daughter of Ensign Samantha Wildman and the only child in residence aboard the Federation starship Voyager, raced through the ship's hallways at top speed, tears streaking down her cheeks and hands curled into white-knuckled fists. She rounded a corner and raced into one of the two holodecks, shouting, "Computer, run program Wildman-73." Instantly the gridlines of the hologenerators vanished, to be replaced by a fairy tale-like forest, complete with a babbling brook. The child, a half-human, half-K'tarian girl of 5, collapsed in a heap against a hollow log, sobbing. A blue, scaled being rose from the brook, a look of tender concern pulling his comical features down in a frown.
"Naomi! What ever is the matter?" The blue being asked in a high-toned voice.
"S..ss..s..even dd.d..died." Naomi blubbered between tears.
"Died?" A deep voice asked, from above them. A bark and leaf covered creature stuck its head out of a crook in a tree, looking down at Naomi and the blue being. "Was there a fire?"
"No, mulch-brain! Seven is her friend on the outside, remember?"
"Huh?" The barkman said dumbly. "Outside? What is outside?"
"Oh never mind Treevis, Naomi's unhappy and we have to cheer her up!"
"But Flotter, what's outside?" Treevis demanded.
"Nothing." Naomi said hoarsely, her tears having been used up.
"Naomi, what happened?" Flotter asked softly, sitting next to the girl and pulling her into his lap. She didn't answer right away, just buried her face into his soft blue chest and clung to him for all she was worth. Finally, she drew a deep, shuddering breath and scrubbed the tear smudges from her cheeks.
"My friend Seven died yesterday and no one told me!" She shouted, with all the anger a 5 year old could muster. Which, in Naomi Wildman's case, was enough to make Treevis jump back worriedly.
"Whoa, my friend, hold the fire breath in. You're scaring poor Treevis." Flotter patted Naomi's back sympathetically, shooting a worried grimace at Treevis.
"Why didn't anyone tell you about your friend, Naomi?" Treevis asked, sitting on the log behind Naomi and Flotter.
"I don't know. I don't think I'm supposed to know." Her lower lip began to quiver again. "All I wanted to do was to play Kadis-kot with her, like we always do. But when I went to look for her in the cargo bay, she wasn't there. So, I ... I... I asked the computer w..where..." tears rimmed the girl's eyes again, and she snuffled, then scrubbed vainly at her eyes, "where she was and the computer s..said that s..she was in the, the .." Naomi buried her face in Flotter's chest again, bawling. "I can't say it. I can't."
"There, there." Flotter continued to pat her back, humming a silly lullaby, hoping that it would somehow ease the child's grief. Eventually, Naomi fell asleep. Flotter and Treevis were not programmed to deal with the aftermath of death, but they were quite familiar with the grief it brought, as they "remembered" when Samantha had been thought lost. They were however, programmed to care for Naomi in the event that she fell asleep on the holodeck, which is what they did; Flotter cradling the child against his chest protectively, while Treevis skittered up to his tree-home to retrieve a blanket made of holographic leaves. Treevis covered Naomi, and sighed, whistling softly and shaking his head.
"What're we gonna do, Flotter?" he asked while attempting to gently wipe away the tearstains on Naomi's face.
"I don't know Treevis." Naomi shifted in his arms, and he loosened his grip to allow her to get comfortable once again. "But Naomi needs us to be here right now, and that's what I'm gonna do: be here."
"Okay. I'll be here too." Treevis sat down on the forest floor and quietly began running his fingers through the dark green grass.
Two hours later, Naomi's comm badge chirped, sending Treevis skittering up to his tree home. "Sam to Naomi -- honey, are you there?" Naomi didn't answer, just shifted her position in Flotter's arms. Flotter had been programmed for this situation; carefully, he turned Naomi over so that he could see the gold and silver shape of the comm badge on her tunic. He tapped the gold surface, nearly dropping Naomi when it clicked at him. Steeling himself, he spoke clearly into the air above it.
"Samantha! How nice to hear your voice. This is Flotter. Naomi is currently asleep, can I help you?"
"Oh, hi, Flotter." The blue man could hear the smile in her voice. "No, I was just going to tell her that it was supper time. I guess I'll be down to get her shortly. Thank you."
Sam Wildman appeared within minutes of her communication. Quietly, she took Naomi from Flotter's arms. She frowned when she saw the tearstains on her daughter's face and tunic. "Is something wrong with Naomi, Flotter?" she asked, cradling Naomi against her shoulder. Flotter shuffled his feet in the dirt, not wanting to betray his friend's trust, but desperately worried about her as well.
Finally, he gave in to his desire to help and blurted, "She's sad because her friend died."
"What?" Sam asked, incredulously. Naomi didn't have very many friends -- there weren't many on Voyager who spent time with the child. In fact, the only "friend" Sam really knew about was... Seven of Nine.
"Yeah, she came in here crying about her 'outside' friend Seven." Treevis called out helpfully from his treetop home. Sam's frown grew deeper. She hadn't heard of any trouble involving Seven of Nine recently. In fact, she didn't even think that the woman was a part of the away team that had been sent out to study one of the many spatial phenomena that seemed to pebble the Delta quadrant.
"Ensign Wildman to Seven of Nine," she said into her comm badge, hoping that the Borg would come and solve the trouble.
"Seven of Nine is unavailable at this time."
"Computer, where is Seven of Nine?" Samantha asked, curious now.
"Seven of Nine is in the morgue." The ensign's eyes grew as wide as saucers. What the hell was going on? She cuddled Naomi closer. If her too-smart-for-her tunic child had asked that very same question...
Samantha Wildman realized sadly that she had a very long night ahead of her. A night that she'd hoped to postpone just a little while longer. "Computer, run program Wildman 882." The scene around them changed, becoming a much more overgrown forest, the brook was now a small lake and Flotter giddily jumped into his new home. A large, overstuffed rocking chair sculpted to look like a part of the forest grew up behind Sam. She sat down and began to slowly rock her child, singing a lullaby softy.
***
Captain Kathryn Janeway stood in her ready room, hands clasped behind her back, watching a series of small explosions race across a gaseous nebula that Voyager had stopped to investigate. The blasts lit up across the cloud like an old fashioned string of Christmas lights, each one occurring at a timed, regular interval. The phenomena failed to excite her though, as her thoughts were focused on one thing. Seven of Nine, the woman she'd given her heart to, was lying in sickbay, recovering from a terrifying experience with a rogue implant.
What frustrated the captain was that they still didn't know what really had happened. Oh, they had hypothesized that when the Borg Queen had taken Seven away from Voyager, she had, among the other new implants, placed the device into Seven. It frightened Kathryn that they didn't know how the implant had been activated. The crew of Voyager was almost certain that the Queen had been destroyed with her ship, so if she wasn't responsible for activating the implant, then who -- or what -- was? Were they still a danger to Seven? Janeway leaned her forehead against the transparent aluminum window and closed her eyes as more questions chased themselves around in her mind.
Had it been a time bomb? Were there other, more insidious devices that would go off without a moment's notice? The scientist in her was frustrated by the lack of answers; the captain, angered; and the lover, well the lover just wanted to don some kind of modern armor and protect her beloved no matter what the cost. She straightened and began pacing the room, furiously rubbing her temples, fighting the urge to race down to sickbay and order the doctor to go over every micrometer of Seven, again.
For a moment, she struggled with herself, trying to figure out which side of her psyche would win out, and finally, she managed to combine a little of each. The scientist was content with the knowledge that B'Elanna Torres and Harry Kim would be tearing apart the inert implant and going over each molecule of it with a fine toothed comb. The captain was satisfied knowing that her crew had been capable of dealing with even this latest threat from the Borg and the lover, well, the lover was given the most leeway as Kathryn logged herself off duty early.
"You have the bridge." She nodded to Chakotay on her way out of her ready room, not even bothering to stay for his response as she stepped onto the turbolift.
***
Sam and Naomi stayed in the holodeck for another hour before the ensign realized that others might well want to make use of the facilities. She took her daughter home, woke her long enough to change her into her pj's, and tucked her into bed. Then she contacted Neelix and asked him to come and watch over Naomi. The Talaxian readily agreed, as he loved to spend time with his goddaughter.
Once Neelix was there, comfortably settled into the couch and reading a padd, Sam left her quarters and went in search of answers. She stepped off of the turbolift and was almost at the sickbay doors when she saw the captain.
"Ensign," Janeway inclined her head. Samantha wasn't certain Janeway knew who she was, other than just Naomi's mother. She knew that the captain was more familiar with her daughter, as the girl had aspirations of being the ship's Bridge Officer, but she herself had only spent a few moments in Janeway's presence, and most of that was when she'd told the captain that she was pregnant.
"Captain," she returned the greeting. Hmm... wonder what's up with the captain? Is she sick, or... or is Seven of Nine really... dead? Deactivated? Just how do you classify a nonfunctioning former Borg, anyway? Well, there's one for the eggheads in medical. Mentally, she shrugged and told herself, you'll find out soon enough. "After you, Captain," Sam indicated the doors. The captain entered the room, and Sam followed behind, noting that the lights were down, indicating that the room was occupied by a sleeper. The EMH materialized.
"Please state the nature of the medical emergency," he said softly, in deference to his patient. Sam looked around the room, and there on a biobed against the far wall was Seven, sleeping peacefully.
Sleeping. Not dead. What the hell is going on here? Sam could make out the regular rise and fall of the Borg's chest. It struck her that Seven slept like Naomi, curled in a near fetal position, back to the sickbay doors. Ensign Samantha Wildman, Starfleet officer, and head of Exobiology on Voyager nearly kicked herself through the hull as snippets of her own prejudicial thoughts regarding the Borg came back to haunt her.
She's nothing more than a machine, given the form of humanity.
She's just a tool. No feelings or morals. Why, she's nothing more than a well dressed robot!
She regretted those thoughts now, as she could see now that no matter what Seven had been when they found her, the young woman had begun life as a human being. She noticed several different readouts displayed on the wall above her head and immediately, her curiosity was piqued.
"What's wrong with Seven, doc?" she asked, having enough sense of propriety not to go over and start perusing the various data displays. She also noticed that the captain was rather pointedly avoiding the biobed containing the astrometrics officer, and Sam wondered why. Naomi had indicated to her more than once that Janeway had more than a passing interest in the well-being of her "pet Borg", as Lieutenant Torres often called the younger woman.
"Seven of Nine is gravely ill, but should recover quite nicely." It was obviously a programmed reply. "Now, is there anything that I can help you with?"
"Well, no. I was actually concerned about Seven. Earlier, I tried to contact her and was told she was unavailable. When I asked where she was, I was informed that she was in the morgue. Apparently Naomi heard this same information, because she told Flotter that Seven was dead. I think you can understand my concerns." During the hushed conversation, the captain had come up behind them.
"My apologies, Ensign. I suppose I should have done this earlier. Doctor, I will handle this. Please look after Seven." Janeway took Sam by the elbow and led her into the office. She motioned for the ensign to sit, which she did. The captain sat across from her, steepling her fingers thoughtfully. She paused, gathering her thoughts.
"What's this about, Captain?" Sam started nervously, hoping to get some answers.
"You are of course, aware that we had to rescue Seven from the Borg, and that when we got her back, there were new implants that the doctor had to remove."
"Yes, of course, I am part of the team that is studying the modifications to Seven's ocular implant."
"All right, an implant was missed. One that was very devious in its construction and function. Approximately 77 hours ago, that implant was activated and in the process, killed Seven of Nine. She was clinically dead for 68 hours before we were able to determine how to deactivate and remove the device and revive her using her nanoprobes." Janeway's voice was devoid of emotion.
"Oh." Sam didn't know what to say. Deep lines of exhaustion creased the captain's red-rimmed and bloodshot eyes. Unconsciously, Janeway pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, as if attempting to stave off a headache. Sam realized that she should end this meeting so that the captain could get some much needed rest. "Can I bring Naomi by tomorrow to see Seven, to reassure her that she's okay?" Janeway nodded.
"I am truly sorry that I didn't take the time to tell Naomi, or the rest of the crew, but we honestly didn't want to alarm anyone. Of course, once we had found what we hoped was a cure, we didn't want to raise any impossible hopes." She inhaled, sitting back, then smiled faintly, "I think it would be a good idea to bring Naomi by tomorrow, I'm sure that Seven would love to see her."
"Thank you, Captain. If I may, I'd like to pay my respects to Seven now." Somewhere along the way, Sam's fear of the Borg had vanished, replaced with a feeling of kinship that warmed her heart when she remembered her daughter and the arrogant young woman rolling around on the floor giggling and laughing as they engaged in a tickle fight.
The captain smiled a real smile, one that made the corners of her eyes crinkle upwards and she nodded, indicating with her hand the still-sleeping form on the biobed in the other room. "I think she'd like that, too."
Sam stood and went into the other room, over to where the doctor was standing, quietly scanning some read outs. Seven was now lying on her back and Sam noticed that the Borg looked years younger with her hair falling out of its usual bun, and her face smoothed in sleep. Seeing this, Sam's maternal instinct rushed out from inside of her, took possession of her hands, and before she realized what she was doing, she'd brushed the young woman's hair away from her face. In her sleep, Seven smiled, and the sweetness of the expression caused Sam to return the smile.
"Get well soon, Seven," she whispered, then turned to go.
As she walked to the sickbay doors, she turned once more to look at Seven's sleeping form, and saw something incredible. Captain Janeway was kneeling by the biobed, holding Seven's hand in hers and softly talking to the sleeping Borg. Sam watched in stunned amazement as the captain finished speaking, then stood, and bent over to brush Seven's lips with a kiss that was definitely not chaste.
Well, now I know why Seven was after Patrick about all that romantic stuff. This most assuredly falls into the "keep it to myself" category, unfortunately. Too bad, because B'Elanna would pay good ration slips for this bit of gossip. Then she sighed, smiling wistfully. It is terribly sweet though -- who would have thought that a starship captain and an ex-Borg could fall in love?
***
The next morning, Sam fed her daughter a good breakfast, encouraging her to eat, even though the girl claimed she wasn't hungry.
"Did you sleep well, honey?" Sam asked her daughter, as they recycled the remains of their meal.
"No. I kept having dreams that Seven was wandering around Voyager all alone and lost, calling out for the captain to come and find her. Only, the captain couldn't hear her -- just me, but when I tried to do something, no one would listen!"
"Oh sweetie, you know that's not true. It was just a dream. Anyway, I have a surprise for you."
"I like surprises!" The child wiggled with glee, then grew silent. "But not if I can't share them with Seven."
"What makes you say that?" Sam had decided that the best thing to do would be to get Naomi to tell her exactly what she knew of the difficulties facing Seven of Nine.
"Because Seven's dead!" Naomi burst into tears. Samantha raced to her daughter, gathering her up into her arms.
"Shh. Honey, I have something to tell you." Sam snuggled Naomi for a few minutes, then pulled her back and wiped away the girl's tears. Naomi snuffled, and bravely tried to stop crying. Sam smiled at her daughter's courage and continued, "Seven isn't dead. But, she is very, very sick."
"N...not dead?" Naomi stuttered, grasping the important part of Sam's statement. "B..but the computer said that she was in the m...morgue and the ddd...doctor told me that's where the d...dead people go."
"Well, I'm sure there's a good reason why she was there Naomi, but now she's fine, in fact, I saw her myself last night, sleeping peacefully. I even spoke to the captain and she told me," Sam grinned at Naomi, tickling the child's nose, "that Seven would love to see you today."
"Really?" Naomi's eyes grew as wide as trade coins.
"Yes, really. I thought I'd take you by before I left for my shift. Would you like that?"
"Would I? Oh, yes! Please, mommy?" Naomi pleaded.
"Let's go then."
Naomi leaped off her mother's lap and danced around the room, singing, "Seven's alive, Seven's alive!" at the top of her lungs.
***
Seven of Nine woke to the sounds of shushing noises. She looked around, realizing almost immediately that her movement was extremely limited from below her breasts to her knees. Remembering that humans were often body shy, she carefully lifted the silver-toned blanket that had been draped over her and peeked under it, amazed to see a heap of bio-regenerative gelpacks piled over her abdominal area. The dressings were heavy, squishy and all together unpleasant. They also kept her from sitting up.
"Seven!" Naomi Wildman's excited greeting refocused Seven's attention.
"Naomi Wildman," Seven replied, somewhat hoarsely. Suddenly, Naomi's tiny form was lifted up and set on the edge of the bed, where she perched precariously.
"Oh Seven I'msogladtoseeyouIthoughtyouweredead!" The child babbled happily, tears streaming freely down her cheeks.
Something inside of Seven of Nine shifted at the sight of those tears and she recognized that she wanted to comfort Naomi, to hold the child close and reassure her in some fashion; actions that confused the normally stoic Borg. She furrowed her brow, unable to find the appropriate phrase among the "all-purpose" list the doctor had given her so long ago, and finally settled for, "I am functioning, Naomi. It will be... all right." The soothing words trickled out hesitantly. She wished she could hug the child, but didn't know how to achieve the embrace without disturbing the gelpacks.
Naomi smiled and wiped away her tears. "I know. The doctor told me all about it. The evil Queen put a bad implant in you and you died," her voice dropped to a low hush. "But then Lieutenant Torres and Ensign Kim and Captain Janeway figured out how to fix it and they did and the doctor brought you back and now you're gonna be okay!"
"Now Naomi, I didn't say she would be 'okay', I said that given time, she will completely recover from her ordeal." The doctor piped up, coming out of his office. He picked up a tricorder and scanned Seven, then pressed a hypospray to her neck.
Seven smiled at Naomi, moved beyond words by the child's concern. Then she yawned and stretched as best she could. A perplexed expression captured her face and Naomi giggled.
"What's the matter, Seven? Haven't you ever yawned before?" Naomi asked between giggles.
"No, I do not believe I have experienced that particular phenomenon. What does it mean?" Seven yawned again, causing Naomi to nearly fall off of the biobed in a fit of giggles.
"It means, young lady, that the triaxiline I injected is working. Now scoot Naomi, it's been much longer than the 'few minutes' you asked for," the EMH said dryly.
Naomi sobered immediately. "Of course, Doctor. Seven, I'll be back to see you later. Please get well soon, I want to play Kadis-kot with you." The child leaned over and gently hugged the prone Borg, kissed a surprised Seven's cheek, then with her mother's help, jumped down from the biobed.
"Good bye, Naomi. Ensign. Thank you for coming." Seven waved at the departing Wildmans, and stifled more yawns. After they had gone, she turned her head to look at the Doctor. "Why am I unable to move? When I woke before, I was not confined so."
"I know, I had to perform emergency surgery on you. Your abdominal implant failed as a result of damage sustained from the spinal device we removed. I'm sorry. You will be immobile for some time." Seven grimaced, disliking the sound of the doctor's words.
"Does the captain know of my status?" She asked.
"Yes, she was here for the operation." He replied. Then, very casually, he remarked, "You know, she stayed with you until she had to leave for her shift."
The hologram chuckled quietly as a brilliant smile spread across Seven's features, causing her eyes to sparkle happily. Shortly her customary mask of dispassion settled in its place and she inquired, "What are the consequences of the surgery?"
The doctor nodded, knowing that the question had been coming. "I'm afraid that you will no longer be able to synthesize energy directly from the ship's warp core. Nor will you be able to work for days at a time without sleep or food. You're a little more Human than you used to be, Seven."
Seven took the news gravely and said, "Thank you, Doctor," then curled back up to sleep.
***
Captain Janeway sat on the couch in her ready room, reading over Neelix's monthly supply request list, chewing on her lower lip and frowning slightly. If they didn't find a decent planet soon, they'd have to cut back on rations, and she hated taking away what small luxuries the crew did have. Perhaps she'd send an away team out in the Delta Flyer to scout ahead while Seven recovered from her ordeal with the rogue implant.
The captain sneered disgustedly, just thinking about the implant and all that Seven had undergone so far. B'Elanna had come by earlier to drop off the report of the preliminary findings regarding the device and it hadn't been heartening. According to what B'Elanna and Harry had been able to discover, the Queen had placed the implant into Seven when the young woman had regenerated at the Unicomplex. Janeway ground her teeth, furious at the thought of someone harming Seven when she was defenseless. The only other bit of information that her officers had been able to retrieve had been a small, partially broken tubule containing millions of strange retrovirus bearing nanoprobes.
Late the night before, she'd been rudely awakened by the alarms of half a dozen monitors. The doctor had activated immediately, shooing her away while he first ascertained what was wrong, then performed a radical surgical procedure to remove large portions of Seven's abdominal implant. Something was causing Seven's body to violently reject the device. The operation was successful, but it left the young woman with large areas of exposed muscle and tissue, forcing the doctor to cover Seven with several bio-regenerative gelpacks.
Once Janeway had been assured that nothing more could be done for Seven, she ordered Lieutenant Torres and Ensign Kim to keep digging through the streams of code they'd extracted from the spinal implant's central processing core. She could only hope they'd find something to use to combat the retrovirus before it spread to another, even more vital implant.
Until then, she'd ordered the doctor not to mention the virus to Seven, hoping the younger woman would take the opportunity to sleep and heal, rather than spend hours pouring over padds, trying to help. Janeway set the padd on the couch beside her and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She had a horrid headache, but she did not want to deal with the EMH's patronizing attitude. Instead, she desperately wanted to visit Seven, to hold her close and assure her that everything was fine. But she'd already set aside too many of her duties, allotted Seven more time than she could afford.
She had to stay right where she was, giving everything she could to both her ship and crew. Starfleet -- and her own personal ethics -- demanded nothing less of her. She got up, replicated a cup of hot coffee loaded with cream and sugar, then picked up the padd and began highlighting the most important items on the list.
***
Ensign Harry Kim snapped his stylus in two. He was sitting at a table in the mess hall, absently chewing on a bite of his ration bar and running calculations with the aid of a padd. He wished that he could go to sickbay and ask Seven for some help -- Borg algorithms were her thing, not his. He stared at the broken writing implement and ground his teeth in frustration. That was the fourth one in as many hours. At this rate, he'd have to use a charcoal stub. But damnit, this was hellish. Just when he thought he'd unwound one string of code and punched in the parameters, the whole thing would morph on him and present him with yet another string of unintelligible code. He was beginning to wish a stray Cube would come along and assimilate him, just so he could finally understand.
Tom Paris, Voyager's hot-shot helmsman and part time nurse plopped down across from him. "Hiya Harry, whatcha up to?"
"Chewing Borg code. You?" Harry muttered, not quite amiably.
"Oh boring stuff. Harry, Harry, Harry, you've just got to get out more," replied Tom affably. Then he took a bite of his meal and coughed. "Well, I see why you chose the Starfleet over the home cooked."
Harry chuckled. It had only taken one sniff of Neelix's latest attempt at pepperoni pizza with extra cheese to tell him that the Talaxian's ideas of what was palatable and his own were far afield. "Yeah. Actually, I've kinda grown fond of the ration bars."
Tom bestowed a look on his friend that clearly said, "Are you out of your blinkin' mind?"
Harry laughed this time and set aside his padd to stretch. "Aw, you know what I mean. Someday, we'll all look back on our adventures out here in the Delta quadrant and wish we were back here, being chased by Meilon, Kazon and Borg."
"Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!" Tom retorted in a falsetto. Harry laughed with him, remembering a recent double date where they had watched an old 2-D version of "The Wizard of Oz" on the holodeck.
"Hey guys, what's up?" B'Elanna Torres, Voyager's chief engineer slid into the seat next to Tom setting her plate down with a thunk.
"Nothing, in space." They all replied together, sharing a laugh over an ancient Academy joke.
"So Starfleet, have you got anything for me on those codes yet?" B'Elanna asked after taking a few bites of her meal.
"No. I wish I did. I wish I could go talk to Seven about this, but the captain asked me not to." Harry replied grimly.
"Hmm." The half-Klingon engineer grunted, chewing. She swallowed and said, "Have you thought about talking to Sam Wildman? Exobiology isn't the only thing she's good at, and I know that she's worked with Seven before. Maybe the Ice Queen clued Sam in on a Borg code cracker?"
"Sam? No, I'd never even thought about it. Think the captain would mind?"
"I say, what Janeway doesn't know, won't hurt her." Tom interjected softly, giving Harry a pointed look. "It's not like you're going to Seven and asking her for help, right? And it is Seven whose not supposed to know, right? Well, I've never known Sam Wildman to carry tales. I'm sure if you approached her nicely, she'd be happy to go over the equations with you Harry." He gently kicked the younger ensign under the table and waggled his eyebrows lasciviously.
"Tom Paris, you are a pig." B'Elanna stated, elbowing her lover in the side sharply.
"Hey, I've got a reputation to uphold!" He teased, winking at Harry, who only chuckled.
"Uh huh. Sure, Tom. Whatever you say." B'Elanna mock-growled. At least Tom hoped it was a mock growl.
"So, what do you say we all get back to work?" He said, after a few moments of icy silence.
"Yeah, I think that's a good idea." Harry echoed him.
"See you later, Helm Boy." B'Elanna purred, discreetly pinching his bottom. Tom's eyes bugged out a bit and he raced off to his next post.
***
Sam was more than willing to help Harry with his research and had no trouble signing herself off duty to help him. When Harry showed her the project, she was even more eager to help. He gave her a copy of his files and she went to work.
Two hours later, she looked up and asked him, "Rather than trying to fight the virus from within Seven, have you thought about fighting it from without?"
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, rubbing his eyes.
"Well, when Naomi got that strange flu virus last year, the doctor did some tests and decided that the best way to get rid of the bug was to immerse her in an anti-viral bath, rather than giving her a hypo."
Harry thought about what she was saying. "You mean, like expose Seven to something that might shut down the virus carriers?"
"Yes, exactly. I mean, look at this nanoprobe I've analyzed..." They put their heads together over the padd as Samantha described what she saw.
***
Janeway was elated. They had a possible cure! She wasn't even particularly angry that Harry had gone to another crewmember, since it had produced results. He and Ensign Wildman had broken enough of the code to realize that the strange nanoprobes weren't powered by Seven's cortical implant, which meant that there was a good chance that they could "shock" them inert. Once the foreign probes were nonfunctional, Seven's own body would either slough them as waste products, or absorb them. Now all that remained was to determine how much current Seven could withstand and remain unharmed.
Leaving the bridge in the capable hands of her first officer, the captain went to sickbay to observe the process, hoping that her presence might help comfort Seven.
***
Seven had been rather rudely awakened when Ensigns Kim and Wildman had burst into sickbay shouting, "We've got it!" This annoyed her. She was even more irritated when she was told that what the two officers "had" was a cure for a malfunction she wasn't aware of having. When she inquired as to why she had not been informed, Harry had looked away and mumbled something about, "Captain's orders," and then flushed. While she may have appreciated the sentiment behind the captain's order of silence, she still didn't like it. She turned to listen to the report, making a mental note to "have a talk" with Kathryn, soon.
Both she and the doctor listened quietly as Sam and Harry explained their discovery. Seven studied their findings carefully, going over the code herself, decrypting what they hadn't and providing the exact amount of current it would take to render the invading probes inert -- nine hundred megawatts. However, she did not know how long it would take to disable the foreign nanoprobes. Applied too long, that much undiluted power could shut down Seven's cortical implant, which would then cause her heart, lungs, kidneys and other major organs to shut down as well. Not long enough, and the virus bearers would just shake off the charge and continue their destructive work. However, if she didn't undergo the procedure, the virus would eventually spread to all of her implants, causing them to fail. The young woman felt the stirrings of fear as she considered what to do.
She was at an impasse. Should she do it, and risk a quick, painful death? Or should she wait, and risk a lingering, even more painful demise? She was considering both options when the captain walked in.
"Captain, I require your advice." Seven said calmly as Janeway approached the biobed.
The captain noticed the deep lines creased around Seven's eyes, and gave the Borg a smile meant for Seven's heart alone. "All right, shoot." She leaned on the biobed, inclining her head toward Seven intently.
The doctor and Ensign Wildman turned away, allowing the lovers a private moment. Harry looked confused, but also turned away when the hologram poked him in the ribs.
Seven outlined the problem for the captain, finishing with, "I do not know whether it is better to wait, and see if we can find another cure, or to go ahead and attempt the electrocution."
Janeway sighed and frowned in concentration. "Seven, I can't tell you what to do. I can only say that I would very much like to have my astrometrics officer up and running again." Then she smiled again and whispered, "and I'd very much like for us to keep that appointment in my quarters." Please let her be all right, I don't want to lose her again, Kathryn silently prayed.
Seven's eyes sparkled merrily. "I understand. I will comply, Captain." She turned her head and called out, "Doctor, I will undergo the procedure. You will succeed in curing this drone." The last was said with a wistful smile. The EMH nodded and turned to prepare.
Ensign Kim asked, "Is there anything that Sam or I can do?" Each ensign was assigned a duty.
The doctor returned to the biobed, with a pair of cardiac stimulators and a hypospray in his hands. "These should generate enough energy. Any last words before I put you under?"
"No."
Just before she closed her eyes, Seven saw the captain mouth "I love you."
***
A sterile drape was placed over Seven's chest, exposing only the amount of skin necessary to attach the stimulator pads. A generous smear of conductive jelly was daubed on the pale flesh, then the stimulators were applied. Captain Janeway took Seven's hand in hers, squeezed it once, then stepped away as the doctor injected an anesthetic. Seven's eyes fluttered shut and soon the EMH nodded. It was time to begin.
"I will begin by administering the charge for 30 seconds. Then, I will take a tissue sample and determine if the procedure was successful."
"Before you begin Doctor, I have one question," Janeway interrupted. The EMH frowned at her as he was calibrating the cardiac stimulators.
"Make it quick."
"Won't the shocks cause her normal nanoprobes to fail as well?" It was a question the captain had wanted to ask earlier, but she had withheld it to keep from worrying Seven. Not that she seemed worried. God, I hope this works!
"No. Seven's own nanoprobes are made of sterner stuff. They were designed for the long haul, whereas these new probes have a very short life span. I postulate that when they had finished their job, they would have self destructed." He gave the captain a droll look. "I don't think we want to wait that long, however."
Janeway nearly stuck her tongue out at him, but restrained herself. That action would be suited to Naomi and even then, it would still be childish. "Of course not, please proceed, Doctor."
The EMH smiled briefly, then said, "Clear," and administered the first charge. Thirty seconds seemed a small eternity. Then, he was done and taking a bio-sample. He passed the slide under the micro-analyzer and frowned. "Not enough. How are those vitals, Mr. Kim?"
"Steady as she goes, Doc." Harry replied from his position at the wall monitor.
"How about the cortical readouts, Ms. Wildman?"
"Still within normal parameters, Doctor." Sam replied crisply. Janeway paced around the end of the room, well away from the small team.
"Okay, charging again. 45 seconds this time. Clear." Everybody held their breath, except the doctor, who did not need to breathe at all. The seconds ticked away and he took a sample. "Damn. Vitals and cortical readouts?"
"Vitals are a little chancy, but they appear to be stabilizing." Ensign Kim reported.
"Cortical readouts are still normal, sir." Ensign Wildman chimed in.
"All right Ladies and Gentlemen, once more. 60 seconds. Clear." A full minute passed. The captain watched Seven's back arch and her breathing cease as the charge took hold of her. Janeway nearly bit through her own lip to keep from crying out her beloved's name. Then it was over and the doctor took a third sample.
Seconds passed as he scanned it several times, then took another sample. Janeway began to nurse a small hope that maybe it was over. "Well, it appears that the third time was the charm," the doctor proclaimed, then invited Janeway over to look. She peered into the analyzer and nearly broke into a jig of victory at the sight of hundreds of immobile rogue nanoprobes rapidly being picked apart by Seven's regular ones.
"Doctor!" Sam Wildman's worried voice broke through her glee. Everything went into slow motion then, as the captain turned to watch the doctor nearly leap to Seven's bedside, calling for a cortical stimulator. She didn't realize that she herself became his impromptu nurse as he slapped the small device onto Seven's temple and charged it. Once, twice, and they waited. Kathryn nearly fell to her knees in supplication. Annika! Come back to me! She cried out silently, allowing her command mask to slip only a bit as she closed her eyes and mouthed Seven's name over and over. Finally, a low groan coming from the direction of the biobed let them know they'd succeeded.
"Did someone record the designation of the Meilon vessel that incapacitated me?" came Seven's raggedly voiced question, showing a rare display of her humor. They all laughed, the tension in the room dissipating rapidly. The captain smiled down at Seven, chuckling slightly.
"Glad to have you back, Seven. How are you feeling?" Janeway felt her knees begin to sag, and she quickly drew upon the steel of command, locking them in place. Can't fall apart now, Captain. You've got to be strong for her. But what she wanted to do was run up and down the corridors of Voyager, cavorting wildly and dancing with unrestrained glee. Seven was alive!
Seven contemplated Janeway, one eye open and one eye closed in concentration. "I feel as though I've attempted to assimilate a functioning power conduit," she replied weakly.
"I see you've gained a sense of humor since wrestling with death," the doctor quipped, removing the bio-regenerative gelpacks from around her abdomen and scanning the tissue with a tricorder. Satisfied with the results, he passed a dermal regenerator over the raw flesh, closing over the wounds. There were still a few external implants marring the smooth flesh, but not nearly the corset-style cage that she'd once worn.
Seven did not reply, as she'd already fallen asleep.
"Will she be all right now, Doctor?" Janeway asked as she gently covered the sleeping Borg.
"Well, I'd like to keep her another day or two for observation, but as far as I can tell, yes, she'll be just fine. Of course, there will have to be some changes made for her. Since the virus destroyed much of her abdominal implant, she will no longer be able to draw energy directly from the ship's warp engines. I think maybe settling her into crew quarters might help her get used to not being tied to her alcove." He lowered his voice so that only the captain could hear him. "Unless of course, you plan for her to move in with you..." He left the question hanging as he tossed the gelpacks into the recycler.
"I..." Janeway stumbled. "I hadn't really thought of anything like that. Of course she'll need her own quarters now. I would have given them to her ages ago, but she requested to stay in the cargo bay."
"Well, given the size of her alcove, I can understand that she wouldn't have wanted to be crammed into a tiny cabin with it. Now, however, she will only have to use it once every 48 hours." He paused, deep in thought. "Unless, I can figure out how to ..." the hologram pondered, rubbing his chin.
"How to what, doctor?" Janeway asked, nodding dismissals at the two ensigns. She put her hands on her hips, and stood waiting for the EMH to answer.
After a few minutes of silence, punctuated only by the soft beeps of the various sickbay monitors, he answered, "While Seven must eat solid food to get her specific nutritional requirements, she will still have to use the alcove's waste removal function, unless I remove those implants as well. But I really don't want to do that just yet, so I was trying to figure out a way to put a smaller device into a cabin that would do the same thing as her alcove."
The captain sighed. Even in the 24th century, no one wanted to talk about going to the bathroom. Especially in space, with all the wonderful inventions that have tried to make that facet of life as hidden as possible. "Would it help if I asked B'Elanna to come up here and talk to you?"
"Oh, you don't have to disturb the lieutenant, any engineer will do just fine, Captain." The doc replied absently as he continued to rub his chin.
"Understood, Doctor. Janeway to Torres."
"Torres here, Captain."
"Can you send someone up to sickbay, the doctor has need of a decent engineer."
"Make it someone who's had experience with Borg technology and Voyager's plumbing, please." The hologram chimed in.
"Borg technology and ship's plumbing? All right, I'll send someone. Torres out."
Five minutes later, Ensign Ara Lerano walked through the door, a mildly annoyed expression on her face. "You sent for me, Captain?"
"No, actually I did." The doctor said. "Please come with me, Ensign. I have something I'd like to discuss with you." The hologram and the ensign disappeared into the doctor's office. Janeway wandered back over to Seven's side, pleased to have some private time with the young woman.
Kathryn watched Seven sleep and fell in love with the smoothly vulnerable face all over again, then a bolt of fear sear through her. Just what the hell do you think you're doing, Katie? If you allow this... this farce of love to happen, you will rob this beautiful creature of her youth! her inner voice mocked. Then Seven, perhaps unconsciously sensing Janeway's presence, rolled over, opened her eyes and smiled up at the captain. Suddenly, all of Kathryn's reservations dissolved into the depths of the Borg's sapphire blue gaze.
"Kathryn," she rumbled, voice thick and dry from sleep. Janeway returned the smile, reaching out to brush away stray bits of blonde hair that were matted to Seven's face.
"Seven, darling. You should be asleep." Kathryn said softly, continuing to caress the Borg's face.
"Mm. How can I sleep when you are so close, Kathryn?" Seven rumbled, attempting to sit up. Janeway assisted her, then helped her to stand and wobble over to the bathroom, where the young woman emptied her bladder. She grimaced at the captain. "This is a most inefficient means of performing this function, Kathryn." Janeway chuckled. Seven had said something similar to her several months ago when the doctor had first informed her of his intention of "weaning" her away from the use of her alcove. Until the virus had totally destroyed her abdominal implant, she had gotten to where she only needed the alcove for the removal of solid waste and to provide the energy requirements for her implants. Hopefully, Ensign Ara and the doctor could come up with something that could do both jobs and be much smaller.
"Get used to it dear, it's only human." Seven pursed her lips in what could only be described as a "peeved" expression.
"I will adapt," she said facetiously, sticking her tongue out at Janeway, mimicking a gesture she'd seen Naomi do more than once.
Kathryn chuckled, amused by Seven's irritation and knowing that it would pass as the young Borg attacked the problem with her single-minded will. When Seven was finished, she helped her back over to the biobed.
"Well Seven, I believe it's time for you to get some more sleep. I, unfortunately, must return to duty."
"Captain, I do not enjoy all this sleeping I must do to recover. When will I be allowed to return to duty?" Seven asked petulantly as she lay back down.
"Now, now Seven. Don't be a pismire." The EMH, followed by the ensign, returned to the main sickbay room. "After all, it isn't everyone who can say that the captain was their personal nurse." The hologram winked at Janeway, whose eyebrows rose nearly to her hairline in surprise. He's in a good mood. I guess things must have worked out.
"I take it that the ensign was able to provide you the assistance you required, Doctor?" Janeway asked.
"Yes. She was a most excellent choice on the part of Lieutenant Torres. We foresee having a device ready in three to four days."
"I'm impressed, Ensign." Janeway praised Lerano. Strange, I don't really know this young woman. Yet, she's obviously good at what she does... Janeway took a second to consider the tall, thin Bajoran with the shoulder length blue-black hair. Ah well, I suppose she is yet another one of the ex-Maquis who have managed to weave themselves into our family.
"Thank you, Captain." The ensign muttered in reply.
"Well, I must get back to the bridge. Doctor, please keep me apprised of any new developments." Janeway nodded at the hologram and the ensign, exchanged a fond glance with Seven and left.
***
Seven stared down at the captain. "Captain, I can recover just as well in cargo bay two as I can in sickbay." They were standing face to face, engaged in a serious battle of wills. It was two days after the virus-bearing nanoprobes had been eradicated and the doctor had called Janeway down to sickbay to try and stop his impatient charge from getting away from him.
"Unacceptable. You need someone to help you around." Janeway demonstrated her point by glancing down at her hands, which were locked onto Seven's elbows, holding the Borg upright. Seven struggled to stand on her own, jerking her arms out of Janeway's hands roughly.
"I am completely capable of functioning, Captain," she said through gritted teeth. Kathryn sighed. She did not want to do this. She did not want to fight with Seven, but it was clear the young woman was showing her stubborn streak. She let go of Seven's arms. Seven's flagging muscles put up a valiant fight against the ship's artificial gravity, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out as her knees shook with the strain of keeping her upright. Proudly, she raised her chin, and said, "I wish to return to the cargo bay, Captain."
The captain ground her teeth. Who knew keeping secrets would be so hard? The cargo bay and particularly the alcove that Seven wished so dearly to return to were currently undergoing intense study by Ensign Ara Lerano. The ensign was preparing to create a device capable of performing the waste extraction function of the alcove, while being small enough to keep in the ensuite of an officer's quarters. Janeway had decided that it was long passed time for Seven to be granted the basic right to privacy, and she had wanted to surprise the young woman with the idea. However, Seven wasn't cooperating, and finally, she said, exasperatedly, "Seven, you are the most impossible person I've ever dealt with!"
Seven reeled back as if struck. Then, her eyes narrowed and she said mechanically, "I will comply." The Borg slowly turned and staggered back to the biobed, carefully laid down, then shut her eyes, pretending to sleep.
The EMH, witnessing this, raised one eyebrow, coughed indelicately and murmured, "Shall I replicate you a bone?"
"I'm in the doghouse, you mean, Doc?" Janeway grumbled back, already knowing the answer. She rubbed her temples fiercely. "Oh Seven..." she whispered, watching the young woman appear to sleep, though tears of frustration betrayed her, spilling from the corners of her eyes and wetting the fabric of the biobed.
All right Kath, you've made your point, now go kiss and make up, her inner voice, which either sounded like her mother, her younger sister Phoebe, or, of all people, Hobbes Johnson, said. This one was Hobbes, through and through. Great, she thought, just what I need, my ex-fiance giving me advice about my new girlfriend.
Oh Kath, the voice chuckled at her, I could be Ambassador Spock and I'd still be right.
Oh shut up! she told herself firmly, then walked over to Seven's biobed. Without preamble, without fear of being seen, Kathryn leaned over and deeply kissed the not-so-asleep Seven. A faint moan of appreciation was the only vocal response the captain got as she twined her fingers into Seven's golden blonde hair.
"Ahem. Breathing is a good practice, for humans." The doctor interrupted as he went about cleaning the sickbay. Seven growled; Janeway blushed.
"Darling, I have a compromise to offer."
"And that would be?" Seven asked archly, raising her eyebrow.
"Instead of going to the cargo bay, come to my quarters -- stay the night." Kathryn kissed Seven again, nipping at her lower lip teasingly.
"I." Kiss. "Will." Kiss. "Comply." Kiss.
"Ladies?" The EMH rumbled.
"Yes, Doctor?" Seven asked, turning to face him as she sat up.
"Get out of my sickbay, you're scrambling my program!" Janeway laughed, long and loud. Seven, confused, only fought to stand, then totter over to Kathryn's side. The captain, once her laughter had ceased, placed her arm around Seven's waist and smiled.
"Ready, Annika?"
"Yes." With Janeway supporting Seven, the two made their way to the captain's quarters. Several of the crew gawked, others stopped and offered to help, but no one seemed overtly curious as to why the Captain was carrying their resident Borg to parts unknown. It appeared to be accepted that wherever one was, the other would follow.
***
It took them nearly fifteen minutes to reach Kathryn's cabin, and when they did, they stopped outside the doorway, both afraid to take another step.
"Kathryn, is it customary to experience intense apprehension just before consummating a relationship?" Seven asked softly.
Flashes of memory flickered briefly in the captain's mind, bits of half-forgotten feelings ranging from trepidation to sheer terror. She nodded, answering, "Yes. It is," her voice just as quiet as Seven's. "But I'm not about to back down now. Are you?" Of course, the captain refused to acknowledge the fact that her throat was dry, her knees were knocking, and there was a distinct iciness to her toes. Nope, she wasn't going to let her own nerves get in the way any longer.
"I am Borg." Seven smirked. "I do not 'back down'." Kathryn chuckled.
"No, I suppose you don't. Shall we?" She indicated her door.
"Yes, we shall." They went inside, allowing the doors to close, then locking them with the "do not disturb" code encrypted into the exterior panel.
Once inside the captain's cabin, Seven hobbled over to the couch and gingerly lowered herself, perching awkwardly on the edge of the seat. The cushions were softer than she expected, rolling her back against the couch with a soft whoosh.
"I see you're getting used to sitting." Kathryn commented, grinning in amusement at Seven's ungraceful flop, as she went over to the replicator and keyed in requests for coffee and tea.
"I have done nothing but sit or lay for nearly a week, I have had ample time to study the position," Seven replied acidly as she righted herself, then accepted the offered cup of tea from the captain.
"Well darling, I hate to burst your bubble, but that's all you'll be doing for the rest of the night, as well." Kathryn smiled mischeviously. She brought the cup of coffee up to her nose and inhaled, rolling her eyes in ecstasy over the aroma. She took a sip and sighed contentedly. I have really got to thank Seven again for fixing the replicator.
"That is different. Tonight, my position will be by choice, not by medical constraint." Seven retorted.
Janeway inclined her head, toasting the Borg with her cup, "to choices, then."
"Choices." Seven nodded back, raising her own cup, then sipping at the hot liquid. As she drank, Seven glanced around the captain's cabin, noting the changes. Her gaze fell on the table, still decorated with candles and dishware. Kathryn noticed and smiled sadly.
"They were for you. That night. When you... died. I had planned such an evening..." She sighed wistfully. "I guess I just haven't had the time to recycle them."
"They are beautiful, Kathryn. I am honored that you would make them for me." Seven got up and cautiously tottered over to the table, sliding out a chair and sitting as soon as she could. Curiously, she examined each of the dishes, noting the weight, color and pattern design stenciled on the borders. Then, she looked over each of the utensils noting absently, "Three forks, Kathryn? Isn't that a bit excessive?"
"Well, normally yes. But I was feeling extravagent, and I did have a rather special dessert planned, and I didn't want to have to use my dinner fork for it."
"Dessert? I like desserts. What was it?" There was a child-like plea in Seven's voice that Kathryn found utterly charming.
"Let me show you." She returned to the replicator, refreshing her coffee and requesting two servings of cherry covered cheesecake. Booty in hand, she went over to the table and pulled up a chair next to Seven. Setting both plates in front of her and taking the fork Seven had been studying, she cut off a small bite of the sweet. "Open your mouth, dear," she said huskily, waving the fork in front of the young woman's face enticingly.
"I am capable of feeding myself, Kathryn." Seven said, amused. However, she opened her mouth and accepted the tiny bite of the creamy dessert. The Borg's eyes bulged as she rolled the cheesecake around in her mouth.
"That is..."
"Don't even bother, Annika. I completely understand." Kathryn winked, taking a bite of her own. Between them, they polished off both pieces. Mournfully, Seven stared at the empty plate, then at the captain. "No love, just one piece. Trust me, any more and you'd be ill."
Seven sighed, but nodded her acquiescence. "You are correct," she frowned. "But I wish you weren't."
"There will be other days for cheesecake, darling." Janeway said as she began clearing the table, placing the dishes into the recycling unit. The candles she kept, carefully stowing them away in a desk drawer for use at another time. Seven had also stood, more steady now on her feet, the sugar and caffeine having given her a quick boost of strength.
Kathryn was just sliding the drawer holding the candles shut when hands slid around her waist from behind her, cupping her breasts through her tunic. Lips nibbled at sensitive earlobes and her heart threatened to reach maximum warp when Seven murmured, "I want to love you, Kathryn." Involuntarily, the captain's fingers dug into the wood of the cabinet as she leaned into the caress.
Janeway couldn't answer, she was too busy moaning in sweet delight over the way Seven's fingers alternated between teasing her nipples and unzipping her tunic. The heavy fabric slithered free and was tossed aside casually, where it landed in a crumpled heap on the couch. Kathryn slowly rotated in Seven's arms, tilting her head up to kiss the Borg. She found the fastening for Seven's uniform, unclipped it and began the process of peeling away the blue and grey fabric. Bit by bit, the smoothly pale skin of Seven's back was revealed.
Seven made a small noise of appreciation as Kathryn's fingers skidded over the Borg's flesh, raising goosebumps. Janeway grinned, then removed the biosuit completely. Small, star-shaped implants glinted in the dim light, but to Kathryn's eyes they were diamonds, studding the surface of Seven's body. She caressed each one, kissing those she could reach until Seven was nude before her.
Kathryn carefully reached out and touched the pale, fragile looking areas of Seven's newly healed abdomen, lightly gliding her fingers over the pink flesh where steel gray bands of Borg technology had once merged with her lover's flesh. Seven hissed, an explosive outburst that penetrated the silence.
"Is this too painful? We can wait, darling." Kathryn backed up a step, only to be stopped by Seven's hands reaching for her.
"No, it -- it is sensitive, but not painful. Ticklish, I believe would correctly describe the sensation." The captain quirked a wry grin, filing away the information for later. "Please, touch me," Seven whispered, drawing Kathryn's hands back to her body, back to her abdomen. Slowly, lazily, Janeway caressed the skin beneath her fingertips, trying to tantalize and not tickle. By the ragged gasps coming from Seven, Kathryn knew she was at least partially successful.
Kathryn Janeway, are you searching for buried treasure or are you going to make love to her? Her "Gretchen Janeway" voice prodded her. Kathryn blinked, then nearly injured herself in her haste to undress.
"May I assist you, Captain?" Seven asked, voice husky with desire, hands covering Kathryn's and moving them out of the way so the Borg could remove the standard issue bra Janeway always wore.
"Be my guest," Janeway responded, dropping her hands away and allowing Seven to finish undressing her.
Somehow, they made it to the bedroom, kissing and touching and caressing each other nonstop, not even pausing as they tumbled into the captain's bed, just kicking away the bedding and curling around each other. It seemed so natural for Seven to prop herself up beside Kathryn, and just look down into the captain's eyes while running her fingertips in a gentle caress from one shoulder to the other. Her fingers followed the curve of Janeway's neck, up the side of her face to cup her cheek.
"Kathryn," she said, then bent her head down to kiss the captain slowly, lovingly. She didn't linger on Janeway's lips though, slowly painting a path of delicate butterfly touches down Kathryn's chin, neck and chest.
"Annika..." Kathryn whispered, running her fingers through Seven's hair as the young woman began to gently nip and suck the area around her nipple, causing the flesh to crinkle almost painfully. "Oh... My, Annika." She cried out when Seven opened her mouth to cover the nipple, sucking in and quickly flicking her tongue over the tip. Only a very small, small part of her wondered where Seven had learned about this, and that part of her was quickly consumed by a wave of passion as her lover moved down her body to kiss and nibble her way to the top of the soft thatch of dark red hair between her legs.
Kathryn's legs naturally parted to allow Seven to settle between them, but the Borg did not stay, only planting a promissory kiss on the side of one leg as she worked her way back up the captain's now completely sensitized body to suckle the other breast as she had the first. Just as Kathryn thought she could take no more of the overwhelming pleasure, Seven pulled back, sitting up.
Janeway's breath came in short gasps as Seven lifted her hand to her mouth and kissed each finger. Then, she slowly drew the captain's hand over her chin, down her throat and let it come to rest between her breasts. Kathryn could feel Seven's heartbeat, strong and sure, against her fingertips.
"This is my soul." Seven said calmly. Then, she reached out and touched Kathryn's chest, right above her heart. "This is your soul." The Borg then moved and ended up hovering over Janeway. Smiling, she lowered herself down until their naked bodies touched. Kathryn could feel their hearts beating against one and other and the delicious symphony of skin on skin took her breath away. "And this," Seven murmured into Janeway's ear, "is my soul, touching yours."
"Oh." Kathryn sighed, tears gathering in her eyes. "Annika..."
"I love you, Kathryn Janeway." Seven said, kissing her softly. "I require no other proof of perfection than your smile."
Janeway smiled and said huskily, "Annika, darling, I love you so much. So very much." Kathryn kissed her lover and ran her hands down the implant dappled back, surprised at how smooth the warm metal was. She was even more amazed at how soft it was as she reached the dimple in in Seven's lower back where two larger, starfish shaped implants nestled. Carefully, she caressed the skin around the implants, loving the way Seven writhed into her at the touch.
Then, Kathryn felt Seven shift, slip a hand between them and suddenly, she wasn't thinking, she was diving off of the highest peak of Olympus Mons and surfacing, feeling rivulets of passion drip off her body as her lover did marvelous things with her fingers and tongue. She came back to Voyager curled in Seven's arms, panting weakly, muscles like jelly against her bones.
"Well, I'll say this: You're a damn quick study." Seven laughed, a genuine sound of mirth.
"I've had plenty of opportunity to conduct research. Combined with my own database of assimilated knowledge, it was quite simple to design an efficient form of lovemaking."
"Oh. Really?" Janeway asked archly, pushing herself up to stare down at her new lover.
They held gazes for four point oh six seven seconds. Then Seven looked away, and whispered, "I was afraid I would not be adequate."
"Darling, you were so beyond adequate, I'm not sure a word has been invented to describe it." Kathryn responded, kissing the curve of Seven's jaw. She followed the line of the younger woman's face, nipping and kissing until she reached Seven's lips, kissing her firmly, enticingly. The captain pulled away and smiled, then said, "I believe it is my turn to love you."
As soon as the words were spoken, Seven began to tremble. Kathryn noticed and gathered the young woman into her arms. "Are you nervous, my love?"
"Yes. A little." Seven replied in a small voice.
"I am too" The captain's admission served to chase away all of Seven's apprehension and she relaxed in Kathryn's arms. Janeway was also comforted by Seven's trust and allowed herself the pleasure of stroking Seven from shoulder to navel, eliciting a near purr of pleasure from the Borg. "Like that, mm?"
"Yes, very much." Seven answered, then gasped as Kathryn cupped her breast, rolling the nipple around between her finger and her thumb. Kathryn pulled a bit, loving the way Seven arched to follow her. She lowered her head, covering the same nipple with her lips and sucking hard, causing Seven to cry out.
"Kathryn!" The Borg flung her left hand out, groping around until she grabbed the polyalloy frame of the captain's bed. Janeway suckled and nipped the sensitive skin of Seven's breasts, then covered her ribs and abdomen with a trail of kisses, stopping only to flutter her tongue around Seven's newly revealed navel. Again, the young woman cried out, an incoherent moan of pure pleasure, and Kathryn continued her exploration of Seven's body, traveling down until she came to the thin patch of light blonde hair between the Borg's legs. She paused, considering her next move, twirling her fingers through the fine hairs, marveling at the softness.
A strangled groan from above her brought her out of her musings and she slid two fingers through the hair to touch the skin beneath. "Kathryn?" Seven called out uncertainly, as Janeway's fingers slipped in deeper.
Kathryn moved back up to lay beside Seven, wrapping her free arm around her lover, while her other hand was still intimately caressing the younger woman. "It's all right, my darling. Do you need me to stop?"
"No. No. I just wanted you to hold me Kathryn." Seven tilted her head down and kissed Kathryn as the captain grew bolder and slid her fingers deeper, causing Seven to moan into the kiss. Seven curled her right arm around Janeway as the captain established a gentle motion, driving away all ability to think rationally for the Borg.
Then, Seven was Omega. She was perfection; shattered and fractured into thousands of tiny fragments, each one burning nova-bright in intensity, and Kathryn Janeway was the heart of all of them.
***
Kathryn glanced through the doorway out into the living area. Numbers on the wall clock illuminated the shadows, casting an eerie reddish glow over what part of the room she could see. Curled on top of her slept Annika, head pillowed on both the captain's breast and her own mesh-covered hand.
The younger woman snored softly, exhaustion from their lovemaking holding her in sleep longer than normal. As she watched the numerals tick over, Kathryn marveled at her luck, at how she, of all the humans in the universe, had been stuck in the Delta Quadrant at just the right time to encounter Seven of Nine, and at how, in some mysterious fashion, she had had the glorious opportunity to fall in love with her.
Then Seven stirred, opening her eyes and smiling at Kathryn and suddenly, it didn't matter why, because it would always be this way, her soul touching Annika's. For better, or for worse.
fin
07/15/99