Cause & Effect

G. L. Dartt

The sleek form of the Delta Flyer swept through the star-dusted reaches of the Delta Quadrant, on its way back to its mother ship, USS Voyager. At the helm, Ensign Tom Paris made a minuscule course adjustment and glanced back into the cockpit of the shuttle he had designed to be much larger than the normal class four shuttles they normally took on missions. Ensign Harry Kim was concentrating on the operations station, his dark, handsome face serious as he studied his board.

Tom stifled a grin. There was no question that the other man was a lot more attentive than he would be in an ordinary mission. That was due, no doubt, to the presence of the third party in the small vessel. Captain Kathryn Janeway was not in the habit of leaving her ship on away missions, but the recent negotiations with an alien species had required her to leave the comfortable confines of her bridge, and accompany Tom and Harry to the planet. She left Voyager in the capable hands of her first officer, Commander Chakotay, sending them on ahead to the next system while she dealt with the aliens for the small supply of a heavy metal element, trillinium, that the larger ship needed in maintaining its replicator systems.

Now they were on their way home, and Tom wondered if the captain, studiously concentrating on the board at the tactical station, had developed any particular opinion toward his cherished Delta Flyer. It differed from the rest of the shuttles in not only was it much roomier, he had also added an archaic styling to the vessel, knobs and buttons rather than the customary touch plates of Federation engineering.

"So, Captain," he said casually. "What do you think of the old girl?"

Janeway glanced up at him. A compact woman with auburn hair and level blue-grey eyes, she radiated an authority and presence that intimidated more than a few of her crew. Harry was one of them, and though he tried never to show it, Tom was another. However, it seemed that she tolerated a certain amount of familiarity with him that she did not with most of her crew, possibly because of her previous relationship with Tom's father, Admiral Owen Paris. The admiral had been Janeway's mentor during her time at the Academy, and so she had a proprietary interest in Tom that another captain would not, particularly after Tom had been kicked out of Starfleet for conduct unbecoming an officer.

She favored him with a bit of a smile. "I assume you're referring to the Delta Flyer," she said dryly, and Tom felt his heart hit his shoes. She smiled, taking pity on his stricken expression. "It takes some getting used to," she admitted. "Chakotay mentioned that you had utilized a little of your 'Captain Proton' program for inspiration, and having been forced to participate in that scenario, I can readily see where you were influenced."

"Do you object?" he asked uncertainly.

She shook her head briefly. "As long as it doesn't interfere with efficiency, then I have no problem with your 'dressing' it up a little."

"Thank you, Captain," he replied with honest relief.

There was a minor jolt suddenly, and hastily he turned to his controls.

"Report," Janeway said crisply.

Harry hesitated. "I'm not sure, Captain," he said. "Our sensors aren't picking up anything."

"The same here," Tom said, frowning. "There was no reason for that other than maybe a bit of spatial turbulence." He didn't mention that for a second or two, he had felt disoriented, almost dizzy, but it quickly dissipated and since no one else brought it up, he didn't either. "Should we take a swing back, see if we can find out for sure?"

Janeway paused, considering it. "There's no indication of damage?" she asked.

"No damage," Harry confirmed. "All systems at optimal."  He hesitated.  "Still, even if it had been turbulence, our sensors should have recorded something," he added fretfully.

"It's a mystery," Tom said in an inviting tone, regarding Janeway hopefully.  He enjoyed showing off his vessel to the captain, and anything that would prolong that was something to be taken advantage of.

Janeway grinned at him. "I think it shall have to remain one, I'm afraid," she said. "I do want to rendezvous with Voyager as planned. If there's no damage nor any further indication of turbulence, then this doesn't seem to warrant changing those plans unless we run into it again."

"Aye Captain," Tom said with a certain amount of regret which he carefully kept from coloring his tone.

He turned back to his board and keyed the commands for resuming their course, noting that they hadn't even been thrown off course in the slightest of degrees. He hesitated as he flipped a toggle. Funny, he could have sworn that the small rubber bit at the end had always been red.

Rather than the blue it so clearly was.

​

Janeway Prime

Janeway had been glad to see the  end of this away mission, successful as it had been, and once more be back on her beloved ship. The trillinium would go a long way to help maintain their replicator system and it was with anticipation that she looked forward to the end result of such an arduous day ... a leisurely soak in a hot bubble bath. Preferably accompanied by scented candles and a glass of fine wine. Since she considered herself the one responsible for Voyager's current predicament, for the ship being stranded in the Delta Quadrant going on its fifth year, Janeway did not often think in terms of rewarding herself for a job well done, but in this instance, she thought she could afford this small luxury for herself.

She entered her quarters, unfastening her tunic as she passed through the living area into the bedroom. She shrugged out of the uniform jacket and tossed it on the double bed, reaching down for the hem of her slate blue sweater.  It was then she paused, realizing abruptly that something was wrong, and it was subconscious at first, a sense of something being different, of being out of place. She glanced around the room uncertainly, wondering what had triggered such a sensation, then she spotted it, the small holo-image on the night stand.

Bemused, she moved over to it and picked it up. During the first few years of their long journey back to the Federation, she had kept a small picture of herself, her dog, Maggie Malone and her fiancé, Mark Johnson there. She had hung onto the normalcy it had provided, the thought that possibly, everything would be all right if only she could find a way back home. When an encounter with an alien communications array had resulted in Voyager contacting Starfleet to let them know they still existed, the Federation was able to return several personal communiqués for the crew just before the array was destroyed. Janeway had been shaken and profoundly hurt to have gotten a 'Dear John' letter from Mark among them, telling her he had married someone else.

She had gotten rid of the image then, and had not replaced it with anything else. So it was with understandable confusion that she now gazed on an framed image of herself and Seven of Nine, Voyager's astrometrics officer; the same young woman who Janeway had severed from the Borg Collective a year and a half earlier.

Frowning, she examined the recording, wondering not only how it had come to be on her night stand, but where it had been taken in the first place. The background appeared to be that of the ship's mess hall with what seemed to be a party going on behind the figures. Janeway could distinctly see what appeared to be balloons and streamers, colorful and bright.  The two women were posed together, the Borg standing behind the captain, her long arms wrapped around Janeway's chest while the captain gazed into the lens with a small but sincere smile on her face. Seven had only the corners of her mouth upturned, but the narrow features of the imposing Borg seemed to emanate an uncharacteristic warmth even as the captain looked a great deal more relaxed than Janeway could remember feeling in years.

She frowned, and carefully put it back down, feeling confused and not a little disturbed. Suddenly, the low hum she had been hearing ever since she had come into the quarters stopped, and with a certain trepidation, she realized it had been originating in the ensuite, from the sonic shower. She turned as she heard someone move about inside, then abruptly, the door swished open and Seven of Nine strode into the bedroom.

Janeway's eyes widened. Not only was the Borg in the captain's quarters uninvited, she was wearing nothing but a slinky, silver robe which clung to her curvaceous figure as close as her customary skintight suits. The tall woman was brushing her long blond hair briskly, a task she abruptly ceased when she saw the captain. Her face, adorned with Borg implants which were constant reminders of her time as a drone, lit up with happiness that literally radiated from the pale eyes, something the captain was not accustomed to seeing at all.

"Kathryn," Seven said with obvious pleasure. "You have completed your mission. I have missed you."

Janeway barely had time to assimilate this astonishing statement when Seven moved closer, put her hand ... the right one, devoid of the Borg mesh that covered the left ... around the captain's neck, and drew the smaller woman to her, kissing her warmly and quite thoroughly.

Janeway froze in combined shock and dismay, unable to speak as the woman finally released her and strode out into the living area, continuing the one-sided conversation as if she was completely unaware of the captain's dumbfounded state.

"I had not anticipated you returning so quickly. May I replicate you some dinner?"

Her lips tingling, unable to formulate any sort of immediate response, Janeway staggered to the end of the bed, leaning over cautiously as she peered out through the door to where Seven was retrieving dishes and utensils from the recycler, setting the dining table with quick competence. The continued silence must have alerted the young woman that something was not right, and she turned, observing the captain with a brief frown, tilting her head slightly.

"Kathryn? Is there something wrong?" she asked in a concerned voice.

Janeway took a deep breath, her mind finally stirring into some sort of activity, shaking off the lingering effects of shock.

"Seven," she said in what she hoped fervently was a calm, rational tone. "What are you doing?"

The Borg raised her eyebrow. "I am preparing our dinner," she said in obvious confusion.

"Why?"

"Because you are hungry?" Seven suggested, plainly making a guess..

Janeway closed her eyes. "No, I mean, why are you making dinner for us?" she tried to clarify. "What are you doing in my quarters?"

Seven blinked. "I live here," she said.

Janeway's head went back as if she had just been struck. The astounded "Since when?" slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it.

Seven frowned. "Since shortly after the incident with Arturis*," she explained. She put the glasses she held in her hands carefully down on the table, and moved closer to Janeway, her face concerned.

"Kathryn, you are frightening me," she said. "Have you struck your head? Are you suffering from some form of amnesia? How could you not remember the last eight months?"

Janeway stared at her. She wondered if this was another of Seven's personalities making an appearance. Recently, a Borg device had caused Seven to suffer from an increasing plunge into her subconscious, where the personalities of all the people she had assimilated while a drone resided. They had taken over the young woman, displaying themselves in a variety of ways, and it had taken all the Doctor's skill as well as a Vulcan mind meld from Tuvok to finally restore the young woman's own personality. Seven had seemed to have made a full recovery, but the captain could think of no other reason that the Borg would suddenly believe they were involved in a personal relationship.

An intimate relationship, Janeway amended, touching her lips as she remembered the kiss. The captain had always been more tolerant of Seven than the rest of her crew and considered herself the young woman's mentor and guide back to humanity, but this kiss had been one of great familiarity, and had more than a little passion flavoring it. Abruptly Janeway dropped her hand and tapped her comm badge.

"Janeway to sickbay," she said.

"Go ahead," came the Doctor's welcome tones over the channel.

"Doctor, I need you in my quarters immediately," Janeway said urgently, watching Seven with a kind of wariness. "I think I have a medical emergency here."

"On my way," the Doctor remarked before signing off.

Janeway was aware of how startled Seven suddenly looked, then a hurt expression ghosted over her face and the captain reached out her hand, purposely gentling her voice.

"Seven, I assure you we'll get to the bottom of this," she told her in her most compassionate tone.

There was a hum as the Doctor abruptly materialized in the living area. He looked expectantly between the pair of women.

"Please state the nature of the medical emergency," he said pleasantly. He glanced at the Borg. "Hello Seven."

"Doctor," Seven responded evenly. She took a breath. "That captain appears to be having difficulty."

Kathryn was startled once more when the Doctor took this at face value, not hesitating at all at the sight of Seven in a robe in the captain's quarters. He whipped out his medical tricorder, aiming it at Janeway as he ran a small probe over the captain.

"Hey," Janeway protested indignantly. "It's Seven who's confused. She thinks we're ... well, that we're involved in a personal relationship."

The Doctor frowned. "You are," he said, staring at her as if he didn't know what she was talking about.

Rocked again, Janeway threw up her hands, walking away from both her crewmembers.

"Just hold on one moment here," she said. Once she had put some distance between herself and the other two, she turned and regarded them, hands on her hips. "Doctor, are you telling me that you believe that Seven and I are involved romantically."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Captain please, you really can't think that's still a secret," he said in a condescending manner. "Seriously, the entire ship knew the day after you two became intimate. It's hardly time to be trying to pretend otherwise.  Especially eight months after the fact."

Janeway stared at him, a sudden chill shivering through her.

"Doctor," she said sincerely. "I honestly have no idea what you are talking about. Seven and I have a professional relationship, nothing more. I am her captain. She is my crewmember."

If Seven had looked vaguely hurt before, now she looked devastated and Janeway wished that she could take back the blunt words though she really no idea how she could have said what she did any differently.

"Perhaps this is serious," the Doctor allowed finally, glancing at Seven. He looked back at the captain. "What's the last thing you remember, Captain?" he asked anxiously.

"I remember everything," she said peevishly. "I just don't remember any sort of personal relationship with Seven. Or the picture," she added abruptly. She darted back into the bedroom to retrieve the portrait which had started it all, returning to the living area where she held out the framed glass enclosed image. "I have no idea where and when this was taken."

"It was taken two months ago," the Doctor explained slowly, gazing at it. "At the party to celebrate your birthday, Captain. We held it in the mess hall. I do remember taking that picture."

"I don't," Janeway snapped, then let out her breath with exasperation. "I remember that party, though I didn't really want to have it," she added. "And believe me, at no time did Seven ever hug me like that.  Not for as long as I've known her."

"Doctor, what is happening?" Seven was very disturbed at this point, looking to the Emergency Medical Hologram for reassurance. "Why does she not remember?"

"I'm not sure," he said, patting the Borg gently on the shoulder. "But I assure you, we will get to the bottom of this." He turned to Janeway. "Captain, I think I should do an in-depth examination."

Janeway resisted. "Are you sure it's not you two that are remembering incorrectly," she said, trying not to sound hopeful.

He nodded at the holo-image she was still clutching. "What is it they say?" he noted.

"A picture is worth a thousand words."

Seven Prime

Her regeneration halted abruptly and Seven of Nine opened her eyes. She was briefly startled to see the captain standing there and she realized that Janeway had ended the cycle before its natural termination.

"Captain?" she said, raising an eyebrow. She wondered if Janeway wished to indulge in a 'philosophical' discussion and while she was not sure why it could not wait until her regeneration was fully complete, she was not adverse to such a thing. After all, it was hardly the first time she and the captain had discussed things at what could be considered inconvenient hours.

"Annika," Janeway said, her voice low. "I've been looking all over for you. Why were you regenerating?"

Seven blinked, not knowing which to address first; the use of her Human designation, something she had thought had been decided would not be used, or the fact that the captain apparently expected her to be elsewhere doing something entirely different than regenerating.  She wondered if she had somehow missed information regarding a meeting. She was equally confused when the captain gently took her hand into her own and drew her down from the dais until they were both standing on the deck but when Janeway slipped her arms around her neck and kissed her, Seven was more than confused. She was profoundly shocked.

Though rather pleasantly so, she decided after a few seconds of having the warm lips pressed lovingly against hers.

She knew what kissing was, of course, having an extensive memory of Human reproductive techniques from her time with the Collective but she did not have any practical experience and she was always eager to broaden her horizons.  She was intrigued by the emotional sensation that this purely physical action was producing within her, a tingling warmth that suffused her body from head to toe.

"I missed you, darling," Janeway murmured when they had parted, looking up at the Borg with an expression Seven could not remember ever seeing before. It was similar to the one that Janeway had offered during the incident with Arturis while they had been confined to the brig but not quite. This was very gentle, soft, almost vulnerable. Very unlike the captain's normal expression when regarding Seven.

"I have missed you as well," Seven offered, hoping that was the proper response for what the captain had just said.

Apparently it was since Janeway smiled and kissed her again, then rested her forehead against Seven's. "In fact, if you'll come home with me right now, I'll show you exactly how much I've missed you," the captain said in a very odd tone, husky and deep. It made Seven feel very strange, raising the hair on the back of her neck.

Seven considered that for all of a nanosecond. "Very well," she agreed.

Bemused, she followed as Janeway led her out of cargo bay two. She did note that the captain dropped her grip on her hand the instant they entered the corridor but she did not hesitate as Janeway headed for the turbolift. She eyed the captain speculatively from the corner of her eye as the lift ascended.

"Was your mission successful?" she asked, suddenly feeling the need to make conversation. She was not the best when it came to 'small talk' but she had been trying really hard to adapt to Human customs recently and that was part of the Doctor's many lessons.

It did occur to her that the captain was acting in an uncharacteristic manner, but Seven's lack of experience made it difficult for her to be sure, particularly with Janeway. Since the captain had always treated her in a fairly inconsistent manner at the best of times, Seven thought that it was entirely possible that Janeway had merely decided it was time to teach Seven more about humanity. And while it might not be considered proper among certain of the crew for the captain to be providing this type of lesson, it was at Janeway's initiation so Seven was certainly not going to object. Janeway had been her mentor in many things, why not this area as well?

She noted vaguely that before, where she was generally forced into learning such lessons, arguing every step of the way, she decided that this time, she would simply follow the captain's lead. She considered that to be a sign of maturity.  She wondered if Janeway would kiss her again and was a trifle surprised at how much she had enjoyed that, and how much she was anticipating a similar incident in the near future.

Janeway flashed her a smile. "They had a more than a sufficient store of trillinium to give us," she said. "We won't have to worry about running out for a good long while."

Seven nodded. "That is fortunate," she said. She eyed her again. "Captain, may I ask you a question?"

Janeway frowned slightly. "Why so formal, darling?" she said. "Even when we're outside our quarters, you can call me 'Kathryn', you know. It's just while we're on duty that you should stick to 'Captain'."

"I ... see," Seven said, with some surprise. She had not realized that. She was aware that Chakotay, on occasion, called the captain by her first name. To be accorded that same privilege seemed significant indeed.

"What was the question?" Janeway asked as the doors opened to deposit them on the deck three.

"I wish to ask about the word you keep using," Seven said as they went into Janeway's quarters. She was  aware of Chakotay coming from the other end of the corridor and that he had an odd expression on his face as Janeway and Seven went through the door, but since the captain did not mention it, she supposed she didn't need to either. "'Darling'. What is that?"

Janeway turned as the door closed behind them, a perplexed expression crossing her elegant features. "Don't you like it?" she asked.

"I do not know what it means," Seven said honestly.

Janeway smiled suddenly, shaking her head. "After all this time," she said in a gentle voice. "And you're only asking now?"

Seven did not know what that meant either, but things were confusing enough and she tried to stick with the point.

"Why do you use it when you refer to me?" she asked.

Janeway moved closer and Seven looked down as the captain slid her arms around her once more.

"It's a term of endearment, Annika," Janeway explained with a note of humor in her voice. "It is a word that lovers use when referring to each other. I'm only going to use it with you, believe me."

That, of course, just opened up a whole new area of questions for the Borg but she did not get the chance to voice any of them since Janeway was suddenly kissing her again. And oddly enough, fumbling at the back of the Borg's neck, unfastening the clasp that kept her blue and gray outfit intact. Seven was startled to feel cool air caress her back as the material parted neatly down to the base of her spine and then Janeway was slipping her hands beneath the mesh like material, peeling it off her shoulders and arms.

At this point, Seven realized that she should probably be objecting but the 'why' exactly escaped her for the moment and it was after pursuing that line of thought when she discovered the captain had rather neatly and efficiently finished undressing her. All the Borg was required to contribute was to raise one foot, then the other. Obligingly, Seven did so, curious but not especially alarmed as Janeway relieved the Borg completely of her outfit, tossing it with an adept casualness onto the sofa.

Seven allowed Janeway to lead her into the bedroom where the captain turned down the bedding, revealing crisp blue Starfleet issued linens. She carefully removed her comm badge and collar pips, placing the golden accouterments on the night stand, then turned back to the Borg who was standing there, not entirely sure what she was supposed to do next.

"Are you waiting for something?" Janeway asked in a slightly teasing tone, holding out her arms.

"Cap ... Kathryn?"

"Undress me," Janeway said, tilting her head slightly. She did not look confused exactly. Just vaguely perplexed at Seven's hesitation.

Seven blinked, then hastened to obey. This was turning into quite an interesting foray into human interaction and it appeared that the captain was far from done. It came to her suddenly that the captain wanted to copulate with her. Though how she came to that conclusion, she wasn't entirely sure.

"Are we about to copulate?" she asked carefully as she removed Janeway's tunic and sweater.

Janeway laughed, a short bark of amusement as she pulled away from the restrictive shirt, shaking her hair free. Strands of it stood out from the rest, stiffened by the static and Seven noted idly that they were the exact color of burnished copper.

"You haven't called it that in awhile," Janeway said wryly.

Seven thought about that. It was true that the last time she had actually used the word was the unfortunate incident with Ensign Kim shortly after her arrival on the vessel. She had not thought the captain would be aware of that conversation however and she was impressed with Janeway's omnipotent knowledge of every little thing that went on in her ship.

"What should I call it?" Seven asked curiously.

Janeway took off her own trousers and boots, tossing them onto the lounger across the room. Seven, who had been holding onto the tunic and sweater uncertainly, immediately followed suit.

"I've always preferred the term 'making love'," Janeway said as she crawled into bed. She stretched out on her back and looked up at Seven. "Did you have a better expression?"

Seven shook her head. "That is acceptable terminology," she said.

She regarded Janeway curiously, head tilted as she took in the length of that compact body, the firm little breasts and the swell of stomach, the thin patch of hair at the juncture of the captain's thighs, the muscular if thin arms and legs. She was suddenly very aware of her own appearance, the abdominal implants that bracketed her torso, that were embedded in her right bicep and just beneath her left collar bone, the mesh which tracked part way down her right leg. Compared to Janeway's perfection, she felt awkward, unsure but the captain did not seem to notice.

Janeway held out her hand. "Come here," she said, smiling faintly. "Or do you just want to look?"

Seven looked at her. "No," she said honestly. "I wish to do more than look."

Janeway Prime

"Are you quite sure," Janeway said, staring at the Doctor.

"No," he said a bit peevishly. "But it's the best explanation I can come up with examining you here in your quarters. I might be able to discover more if you would accompany me to sickbay."

"Not now, Doctor," she said firmly. "I have to call a staff meeting."

She glanced over at Seven who was standing a few feet away, an expression of distress on her narrow features. Janeway could not remember ever seeing such a vulnerable display from the young woman before and she felt her heart go out to her. As disturbing the possibility offered by the Doctor was to her, it was absolutely confounding to Seven. The Borg did not seem to know how to react suddenly.

"I think you should probably be in on this," Janeway added gently.

"I understand, Kath--- Captain," Seven said in a low voice.

"I hate to put a damper on things," the Doctor interjected at that moment. "But while I don't need any sleep, I should point out that it is 2300 hours."

Startled, Janeway looked at him, then her shoulders slumped. Was this something that could be immediately rectified or would it take a great deal of resources? She suspected the latter and in that event, she wanted her people to be at their best, well rested and ready to tackle the problem. She didn't think the time was necessarily an issue though location might be.

"You're correct," she told him. She glanced up. "Computer, locate Ensign Kim and Ensign Paris."

"Ensigns Kim and Paris are currently in their quarters," the computer's feminine tones noted calmly.

Asleep, no doubt she decided. Certainly they could wait until morning to hear the news. To discover that somehow, all three of them had been displaced. That this was not their universe at all but one with striking similarities. And certain differences.

Like my entire life, Janeway added to herself sourly. She made a second call to the bridge, ordering that Voyager be brought to a complete stop. The conn officer's voice was vaguely perplexed when he responded but he obediently followed her orders. A third request put a memo in the padds of the entire senior staff, noting that there was to be a meeting at 0700, just after the beginning of the alpha shift.

Those tasks complete, and now feeling totally at loose ends, she glanced at the other two.

"I guess this can wait for morning," she noted. "No point trying to tackle the problem half asleep."

The Doctor nodded. "I suspect that's a good idea," he said. His face softened perceptively. "Try to get some rest, Captain. I suspect this is only a temporary situation."

She nodded as he dematerialized, wanting to believe him. But what if it wasn't temporary? What if they were trapped here, to live out the rest of their natural lives in this universe? Involuntarily, her eyes slid over to where Seven stood, looking extremely uncertain in the soft glow from the windows which revealed stars no longer distorted by the warp field.

Janeway took a breath. "So we ... you and my counterpart ... live together," she ventured.

Seven nodded slowly. She had her arms crossed over her chest, almost as if she were chilled and was hugging herself. Janeway had to resist the urge to go over and comfort her. After all, it wasn't her that the young woman needed, it was that other Janeway, the one she loved and apparently, loved her back.

Feeling extremely fragile, as if the very deck beneath her was threatening to dissolve, Janeway turned to the one thing that had always been her lifeline in times of tribulation. She strode purposely over to the replicator and keyed in a request for coffee which came out steaming hot, a distinct aberration from how the replicator in her own quarters normally operated. She took a sip and was astounded at the deep roast flavor, the subtle hint of chicory and perhaps even a little trace of chocolate. It was undoubtedly the best cup of coffee she had ever experienced on Voyager.

"This is incredible," she noted, lingering over the dark fluid, sniffing delicately to enjoy the rich aroma.

"Kathryn relishes her coffee," Seven said distantly. "I was pleased to be able to refine the parameters of the replicator in order for her to experience a better 'blend'."

Janeway stared at her. "Hmm," she said idly, taking another sip, letting it sit on her tongue so that she could absorb the taste. "I think I'm going to have a chat with my Seven when I get back."

Seven tilted her head. "You do not love her, do you?" she asked pointedly. "My other self."

That laid it out rather flat on the table and Janeway decided that this Seven was as blunt and forthcoming as her counterpart. The captain hesitated, thinking about how to answer that. "I believe that in addition to being her captain, I am her friend," she admitted. "But the kind of feelings that you and my counterpart apparently share, no, we don't have that."

"Why not?" Seven tilted her head slightly.

Janeway took a large gulp of coffee, stalling for time. "I don't know," she admitted finally. "Lack of opportunity possibly or maybe we're just not each other's type.  I do know that it is not in my nature to become involved with a crewmember."

Seven smiled faintly. "It was not in Kathryn's nature either," she said. "Until I convinced her otherwise." She paused. "But it did take a great deal of effort on my part."

Janeway looked at her, felt her lips twitch in a wry grin. "I'll bet it did," she said.

She took her cup and went over to the chair, sitting down. Without being asked, Seven took a seat close to her on the couch. The captain affected not to notice when the Borg's robe fell open to reveal the long length of bronzed tinted legs which Seven crossed neatly. It occurred to Janeway that this Seven was a lot more ... 'human' than her counterpart, or at least, a lot more comfortable in how she handled herself, and interacted with others. She also seemed more confident and was even less intimidated by Janeway, something the Borg never really was in the first place. It made the captain realize that the two Sevens were really very different entities just as, she supposed, she and her own counterpart must be.

"How did you two get together?" she asked, before realizing that perhaps that was a little more information than she should perhaps being trying to find out.

Seven raised an eyebrow. "I fell in love with her," she said evenly. "But when I told her that, she responded by saying that she could not love me back. We went through a very difficult time before I realized that did not mean that she did not love me back. Only that she had concerns and misconceptions which I was required to allay before we could set the parameters of a romantic relationship."

Janeway regarded her coffee. "You must have been very persistent," she said softly.

Seven considered that. "I believe," she said slowly, "that Kathryn was ready to be loved. It was only a matter of helping her understand that." She eyed the captain speculatively. "Perhaps my counterpart shall be equally as convincing ... one day."

Janeway did not know what to think about that.

Only that it seemed ... intriguing.