Seven gazed in wonder at the small, compact form in the black and gray uniform who was bending over the stricken Voyager captain. She felt curiously detached, as if this was only a dream and the only reality she could hold on to was the promise that somehow, these other versions of herself and Kathryn had a cure for what was destroying her wife. 
"Katie, you're one hell of a mess," Captain Johnson said dryly, looking down into the ravaged face. "But with any luck, we'll have you up and around in no time."
"What's going on here?" the Doctor asked for the tenth time. He and Sek were completely at a loss, watching as these people took over their sickbay, staring at the odd machinery Hansen had wheeled in on a small trolley. Two security guards, looking profoundly confused, took up a position at the doors, obviously wondering what the hell they were supposed to be securing.
"We're going to reprogram the nanoprobes that are causing this," Dr. Hansen told the EMH, smiling at him. "Just like we did in our own universe. It's a piece of cake."
Seven thought the young woman sounded unnaturally cheerful, and she wondered if it had anything to do with the profoundly horrified expression that had come over Hansen's face when she first viewed Janeway's misshapen form lying on the biobed. The scientist had immediately covered it up, and now it seemed like she was almost trying to convince herself more than the Doctor. The Borg drifted over to the bed and looked down at her partner, her heart breaking when she saw the eyes looking back at her, full of confusion and not a little fear.
Seven bent over. "I know you cannot speak, Kathryn," she said softly so that only her partner could hear. "If you can understand me, will you blink once?"
The eyelids trembled, then closed. Seven felt a tiny bit of relief at that. "Can you blink twice? I will use that as a negative response." 
To her gratification, the eyelids closed and opened twice, and she knew that despite the appearance of her partner, Kathryn was still in there, her mind was still functioning. The Borg rested her fingertips on Janeway's forehead, possibly the only part of the smaller woman not yet assimilated.
"Can you feel that?" Seven asked softly.
Again, a slow, single blink, and the Borg tried her best to come up with an encouraging expression. "Try to be patient, Kathryn." She straightened and regarded the Vice Admiral ... the captain, she corrected, even though the insignia adorning the gray collar of the shirt beneath the new style tunic was still that of the higher rank. But Johnson had been quite specific about how she wished to be addressed.
"What must we do?"
"You're going to assimilate her," Hansen interjected, attaching sensor probes to the Borg, the small, clear circles sticking to Seven's temples and neck.
The Borg glanced at the other two in shock, and the young scientist grinned. Across the biobed, Johnson spread out her hands.
"It's beyond me," the Vice Admiral admitted. "This is purely Dr. Hansen's show."
"See, it's simple, Seven," Hansen explained. "Janeway's nanoprobes are trying to restore the quantum signature of her own universe to her. She doesn't have a cranial implant to inform them that she's already there, so we're going to have to use yours to reformat them."
Seven blinked. "How?"
"I'm going to make an adjustment in your cortical node," Annika said, bringing up a probe to adjust Seven's eyepiece. When the Borg flinched away, Hansen held up her hands and waited, gentling her tone. "Seven, it's going to create a small amount of assimilation nanoprobes so that they can be used on Janeway. They'll reformat her current nanoprobes and reverse the changes they've made to her organic components." She glanced down at the malformed lump on the bed, and shuddered slightly. "If you'd like, I'll even code a series of commands to make Janeway's nanoprobes go completely dormant afterward, and eventually they'll be passed out of her system as her Human immunity takes over."
Seven looked down into her partner's face, seeing the expression in the eyes, the frustration.
"She will return to her normal functionality?" she asked the question that the captain could not, knowing that was what Janeway needed to know. "And appearance?"
"She should." Annika looked over at Captain Johnson. "I mean, it worked on the rifle casings with the Borg cranial implant we salvaged from that cube, right? They all looked and worked pretty much like rifles afterward."
The Doctor groaned.
"I do not believe we have much choice," Seven said, keeping her voice from shaking with an effort. She bent over Janeway once more. "Do you wish to try? It sounds very ... unfeasible."
A single blink, firm and definite. Seven took a slow breath. "Do you wish them to deactivate the nanoprobes altogether? You will no longer have your healing ability."
Another blink, more slowly this time but there was only one, and Seven tried not to be dismayed by this, straightening up and regarding her counterpart steadily.
"Proceed."
Annika brought the microfilament up to probe Seven's eyepiece once more, and the Borg forced herself not to cringe as a stream of data abruptly flowed into her implant, the scientist prodding the necessary nodules to enter several commands. Seven's assimilation tubules suddenly erupted from the back of her wrist, and immediately she brought them to Janeway's neck where they darted against the mottled skin, ejecting the load of the new assimilation nanoprobes. Seven understood now what they would do, how they would act as a virus, spreading through Janeway's systems, and passing on their new format to the defective ones, changing their objectives.
"Seven, the uncontrolled growth is ceasing," Sek said excitedly from where she was monitoring the captain's condition. "The implants are no longer expanding into her remaining organic tissue. In fact, they're starting to reverse completely and her organic cells are beginning to reproduce at an astounding rate."
"Hook up a couple of IV's," the Doctor said abruptly. "I don't know where those other nanoprobes got their energy, but her organic cells will need food."
Johnson and Hansen were shoved aside as the Doctor and Sek were suddenly scrambling around the biobed, trying to find a place to insert the tubes for the IV unit. Seven remained where she was, looking down into the eyes of her partner as her assimilation tubules, their load delivered, returned to her wrist. She kept the fingertips of her right hand pressed against the Janeway's forehead, and she felt an incredible joy flow through her as she saw the silver sheen slowly dissipate, leaving only the blue gray irises that were full of amazement and gratitude.
 So easy, Seven thought distantly.  The cure had been so obvious. How could I have overlooked it?
"You know, Seven," Annika remarked from where she and Johnson were looking on. "I don't have to change your cranial assimilation programming back. If you keep that sub-routine, you could do this for any Borg in the future ... unassimilate them. You've just, in essence, became the anti-Borg."
Startled, Seven stared at her, the concept hitting her with the force of a phaser beam. She could not even begin to grasp the implications of that. She looked back down at her partner who had obviously heard this and wished she could get the captain's opinion ... but that would have to wait until more of the implants had receded.
"I must confer with Kathryn on this," Seven said faintly. "When she is again able to talk."
Annika shrugged, apparently unaware of what a bomb she had dropped on her counterpart. "Don't wait too long. I don't think we can stay here for much longer."
Johnson glanced at her and something undefinable passed between them. "My science officer is quite correct," the older woman said finally. "We do need to return to our own universe soon."
Seven was abruptly aware of Janeway's eyelids fluttering rapidly, trying to get her attention and she raised an eyebrow, frowning as she tried to figure out what Janeway was trying to convey. It was difficult to determine but still, she and Kathryn had been together for quite some time, she thought. Surely she had a certain amount of insight into her partner's thought processes.
"Will you stay at least until Kathryn can speak?" she asked the other captain. "I know she will want to thank you personally."
Johnson frowned. "Perhaps a few days. No more."
Hansen seemed to be about to say something, then pressed her lips together, looking a little disagreeable but not so much that a casual onlooker would notice.
Seven glanced down, gratified as the eyelids blinked once, and she knew she had guessed correctly what Janeway had wanted her to communicate, feeling an elation spread through her. It pleased her to know that she was this much in empathy with her partner and she hoped the warmth of her touch on Janeway's forehead could translate into the embrace she really wanted to give her. As she stood there, communing silently with Janeway, Seven discovered that it was becoming difficult to concentrate, the many emotions swirling around within her making it hard to think. It was as if there was an expanding bubble of gaseous compound within her abdomen, expanding to fill her with happiness and relief, yet also bringing with it a sort of dizziness, a draining in her extremities. She trembled, aware of the Doctor looking up at her, a certain amount of alarm on his face.
"Sek," he barked.
Abruptly, Seven toppled, vaguely aware of Sek leaping over to catch her before she hit the deck.The Emergency Medical Assistant bore her weight easily as darkness overcame the Borg.
 
Johnson took an involuntary step forward as Seven swayed, falling over. Fortunately the other woman, the slender, blonde haired female dressed in medical garb was closer, and she caught the Borg, bearing her weight easily as she carried her over to another biobed. Johnson was impressed, wondering who she was, knowing that she was probably someone Janeway had picked up on this journey in the Delta Quadrant. A journey that had been extended considerably as a result of certain decisions in this universe which had been different than Johnson's choices. The Vice Admiral tilted her head, studying the stranger. In a odd sort of way, she reminded her of Kes, the Ocampa who had joined Voyager early in her journey, but this woman was Human and appeared much older. 
"What's wrong?" Hansen asked anxiously. The scientist was standing nearby, watching her counterpart with a definite expression of concern.
Sek looked back over her shoulder. "Seven has not been eating or sleeping with any sort of regularity the past two weeks," she explained calmly, pulling a sheet over the supine blonde. "I suspect it has finally caught up to her."
Annika seemed to accept this, looking a little relieved, and she glanced over at Johnson. "We need to talk," she said in a much lower tone.
Johnson didn't like the sound of that, but realized it was probably inevitable. She resisted the urge to sigh, and nodded briefly. "We're returning to our vessel," she told the Doctor. "We'll maintain station keeping for another three days, taking scientific scans, but then we really must return to our own universe."
"I understand."
Johnson cast a quick glance over at the metallic and flesh lump on the biobed, trying to hide her revulsion. Though in a way, the mutations were so extreme that she could barely recognize her other self as the entity being transformed. She supposed she should be grateful for that ... it might keep her from having nightmares for the next ten years. She touched her comm badge.
"Janeway to Voyager," she said. "Two to beam up."
"Understood," Nog's voice responded.
The last thing Johnson saw was the dark eyes centered on her, and she wondered what her counterpart was thinking. Of course, if the woman managed to recover in time to speak before they left, she'd probably find out. She wasn't surprised to find that the need to find out what had happened to Janeway and Seven had left her, but she was surprised by how ... distant she now felt toward her counterpart. She wondered how much of it had to do with the shock of the whole situation ... that Janeway was not necessarily a person to her at the moment, but merely a problem to be solved, which was the only way she could handle seeing what unregulated nanoprobes could do to a human being. 
Once on board her own vessel, she stepped off the dais, nodding formally at the transporter operator, and headed for the door, aware of Annika close on her heels. They did not speak as they strode through the corridor or during the entire trip in the turbolift to the bridge. Only when they were in the privacy of Johnson's ready room, did her lover give voice to her feelings.
"Kathryn, are you insane?" Hansen said, flinging her arms up in the air, her face a study in incredulity. "We've accomplished what we came for. Now let's get back before Starfleet notices we're gone."
Johnson settled into her chair behind the desk and tried not to smile. "I'm afraid it wouldn't be that simple," she said dryly, leaning back as she watched the other woman pace about in agitation. "The logs of this entire mission will be gone over with a fine-toothed comb. Starfleet will know exactly what I did."
"What we did, you mean," Annika responded, eyeing her narrowly.
Johnson shook her head. "What I did," she insisted. "I'm the captain. I'm totally responsible."
Hansen crossed her arms over her chest, looking at her moodily. The only thing that was missing was the young woman tapping her foot, the captain thought with idle amusement.
"No," Johnson added before Hansen could offer such a suggestion, "we're not going to tamper with the logs. That would be grounds for me to be summarily be court martialed." She leaned forward, folding her hands on the desk in front of her. "Trust me, darling," she said in a more soothing tone, "Starfleet might not like what I've done, but if I can get up on my hind legs and state that it was a command decision, then they'll find a way to handle it. If I try to hide it, or make it seem like I knew I was doing something wrong, they'll have to assume it was, and react accordingly."
Hansen looked astounded. "So you just pretend that you thought you had every right to do this, and they'll let it go?"
"Not let it go, necessarily," Johnson explained patiently. "Find a way to balance it with all the rest of the accomplishments we've managed on this mission. Just as they did when I first returned from the Delta Quadrant. Don't fool yourself, the accomplishments we've made on this shakedown mission have been considerable indeed." She pursed her lips slightly. "In any event, no one else on this ship will be held responsible. It was purely my call and I made it. I'll stand by it to the death."
Hansen exhaled audibly in frustration and collapsed in the chair facing the desk. "I don't think I'll ever understand you 'Fleet types."
Johnson smiled faintly. "No, you probably won't, but I'm glad you keep trying anyway."
She held Hansen's gaze, the blonde finally blushing and dropping her eyes.
"You are such an infuriating woman."
Johnson's smile widened. "But I'm cute."
"Not at all," Hansen responded tartly. "You're too ... devious to ever be considered cute."
"Devious?" Johnson tasted the word carefully. "I like it."
Hansen just snorted and Johnson leaned back in her chair. "In any event, I don't think it will hurt to remain here a day or so," the Vice Admiral added casually. "For one thing, it will give the science labs time to gather some fascinating data. Our Voyager never mapped this part of the Delta Quadrant. Plus, their Voyager is still undergoing repairs from the attack. It clearly falls under the category of encountering a vessel in distress ... for which the regulations regarding our actions are very clear. We are required to assist."
"Were you always this much of a space lawyer?"
Johnson's gaze grew heavy lidded, a bit of regret coloring her tone. "I believe it is a skill I've acquired only in the past couple of years. Running a science facility with civilians, required me to know just how to balance Federation law and Starfleet regulations, not to mention the fine art of diplomacy and actual outright manipulation at times." She shivered a bit. "Believe me, I find the command chair a great deal more straightforward ... and comfortable."
Hansen nodded somberly. "You're not going to give it up this time, are you," she said, a statement rather than a question. "Your command, I mean. You're going to fight for it."
"With everything I am." Johnson paused. "I wouldn't mind some support in that department."
Hansen was obviously surprised, either at the words or that Johnson would be open enough with her to request the assistance, the Vice Admiral wasn't sure. "I'll help you all I can," the young woman said quietly. "You can count on it, Kathryn."
Johnson felt herself soften inside. Such a marshmallow you are, Katie, she scoffed to herself.
"Thank you," she responded with sincere gratitude.
"But I'm not sure how well I'll do on any ship you might get. I mean, it's one thing to pretend to be a Starfleet officer on this mission where your crew is half civilian scientists, and the rest are either working their way back to active duty, are not trusted for regular duty, or are being hauled out of retirement. It's quite another to try to fit into an elite Starfleet crew with years of experience. Certain decisions on my part will have to be made."
Johnson nodded. "Point taken. Why not wait to cross that bridge when we come to it?"
"All right," Hansen agreed in the sort of tone that let Johnson know she wasn't going to be forgetting this anytime soon. The captain suppressed a sigh. She'd just have to worry about it when the time came.
"In the meantime..." Johnson said.
"In the meantime?" Hansen repeated questioningly.
"Shall we retire to my quarters for some further scientific consulting on this? After I debrief the crew, of course."
"Is that an order?" Hansen said cagily.
Johnson stood up, coming around the desk, heading for the door. As she passed Hansen, she trailed her hand along the young woman's cheek.
"Yes," she said. "It was."
Behind her, she heard another snort and she was smiling as she left her ready room. "All senior officers to the conference room," she said, not pausing as she crossed the lower level to the door on the other side of the bridge.
She took a seat at the head of the conference table, waited until her senior staff had trailed in, and began to debrief them ... on a need to know basis only. As far as they were concerned, this was just one more test, and that was pretty much what she wanted them to think. The only one who might have suspected different was Tuvok, and he would maintain his own counsel.
After that was finished, she and Hansen logged off duty and made their way to the captain's quarters where Johnson dug out a bottle of champagne.
"What's the occasion?" Hansen asked, having taken off her tunic, leaving her in the undershirt with the sleeves rolled up. She accepted the glass the Vice Admiral gave her, and regarded her companion curiously.
Johnson raised her glass. "To us. In a multitude of dimensions, we always seem to find a way to accomplish the impossible."
Hansen grinned. "Well, if you consider the whole concept of the relationship itself being impossible, then everything else is a cakewalk."
Johnson returned the grin. "Good point." She tilted her head and tried again. "To achieving the impossible."
"Hear, hear," Hansen said and they sipped at the bubbly liquid.
Then Johnson took Annika's hand and drew her over to the sofa. "Do you know, I didn't even get a chance to ask how the dog is doing?" the Vice Admiral said as they settled onto the cushions.
"The dog?"
"I gave Seven a puppy just before they left our universe. I wonder if they still have it."
"I'm sure they do. Besides, you may get the chance to speak with Janeway and Seven again when they're not so concerned with other things ... like survival."
"Trivialities do go by the wayside in that event," Johnson allowed with a smile. She looked over at the young woman who had slipped an arm around her shoulders, leaning back against her. "I'm going to keep contact between the two ships to a minimum. No need to clutter the issue."
"I guess," Hansen said, obviously not caring much. She leaned closer, nuzzling the Vice Admiral's ear and Johnson realized the scientist's mind wasn't really on the conversation.
"Are you listening to me?"
"Oh yes," Hansen murmured and Johnson shivered as she felt the lips trace down her neck. "Do you know how attractive you were today?" Hansen added in a purr. "You were so forceful, all that battle station excitement ... I think it turned me on."
"It did?" Johnson hesitated. "Honestly, it did me as well," she admitted, blushing slightly. "It always does. I don't know how many times I came back to these quarters after a particularly dangerous encounter and was just ... at loose ends."
Hansen pulled away, looking at her. "You were really alone during those years, weren't you?" She placed her glass of champagne on the coffee table and drew her fingers down the other woman's face and neck. "You're not alone now."
"No," Johnson said, swallowing hard. "I don't suppose I am."
"It would be a real shame to waste all those ... loose ends," Hansen remarked, nuzzling the older woman's ear once more. "Since I am so very good at ... tying them up."
"Oh, you are?" Johnson placed her glass on the coffee table and turned to her companion, wrapping her arms around her. "Show me."
Hansen did, bending her head to kiss Johnson deeply, her tongue tracing along the Vice Admiral's lips before gently slipping between them. Johnson felt a tingle go through her, the desire rising like a inexorable tide and she slid her hands down from Hansen's shoulders to her chest, running down the slope of her chest to cover the full breasts through the slate gray sweater.
Hansen muttered something inaudible and pressed closer into the caresses, using her own hands to tug at Johnson's tunic. "Let's go into the bedroom."
Johnson thought that was a wonderful idea, and immediately rose from the couch, reaching down to take Hansen's hands in her own, using them to lead her into the bedroom. They finished undressing each other with languid caresses, kissing deeply and passionately by the bed, their uniforms tossed negligently onto the lounger. Over Hansen's shoulder, Johnson could see the other 
Voyager through the hull window, hanging like a jewel against the backdrop of space, and she caught her breath at the sheer loveliness of the vision.
"How exquisite," she murmured.
"Thank you," Hansen said and blushed, abruptly self conscious in her nakedness.
Johnson decided it would not be a wise idea to try to explain what she really meant. Instead, she just kissed the young woman again and together, they sank to the bed where she focused her full concentration on her partner, forgetting her starship for the moment. She knew it was something that she would have to maintain a constant vigilance against. Hansen truly deserved better, and while Johnson had not always been able to provide a significant part of herself to her previous lovers, she was determined to accomplish it now.
For as long as she could.
 
Kathryn's eyes flew open, and she stared up at the ceiling of sickbay. The lights were lowered, indicating night watch, and though her sense of time had been severely tested the past few weeks, she guessed that it was about 0300 hours in the morning. She swallowed, pleased that she now had saliva, and tried to assess how she was feeling. The terrible immobility was gone from most of her body, and she thought that she could even wiggle her toes. But there was still an uncomfortable weight on her abdomen, and it seemed that her right side and arm continued to be numb. 
Steeling herself, she looked down toward her middle, startled to see Seven in a raised chair by the side of the bed, leaning over onto the captain, her head resting heavily on Janeway's stomach, fast asleep. Janeway's right arm was trapped beneath the Borg's chest and carefully, the captain tried to pull it out, gratified to feel the pins and needles of restored circulation lance up and down the limb that she held up, gazing in wonder at her reformed hand, wholly human, not the metal claw it had been before. She flexed it, moving each individual finger, feeling a sensation that was beyond relief, knowing only that somehow, she had been completely restored.
She glanced down at Seven again, seeing the weariness and stress in the young woman's face, the tightness around the eyepiece that framed her left eye. The captain gently placed her hand against the cheek, cupping it in the palm, and felt a wave of tenderness flow through her as the warmth of the smooth skin penetrated to her bones.
Seven did not stir, obviously exhausted, and Janeway spend several moments simply staring at her partner, loving her with all her heart and wanting nothing more than to gather her up in her arms and hold her forever. Instead, she tried to make do with the soft touch on Seven's face as she watched her sleep.
She became aware of someone moving closer and she glanced over, identifying the Doctor who drifted to the side of the bed opposite to where Seven was perched.
"She never gave up," he said quietly. "Not once."
"No," Janeway replied softly. "She wouldn't let me give up, either. My poor darling. I put her through so much."
The Doctor quirked an eyebrow briefly. "Honestly, Captain, I think it's a pretty even exchange. She provides her fair share of aggravation to you."
Janeway smiled. "I guess that's why we're so well suited. We're the only ones strong enough to put up with each other."
"Something like that." He moved closer, using his medical sensor to scan the captain as he studied the screen of his tricorder. "You seem to be coming along quite nicely. The last of the implants have completely dissolved, and the number of nanoprobes are decreasing every hour."
"It's happening so quickly."
"Well, don't forget how fast assimilation initially takes place. The Borg are nothing, if not efficient."
Self-consciously, Janeway reached up with her other hand and touched her head, feeling the scalp which bristled with a fine layer of new growth. "What about my hair?"
He looked a trifle annoyed. "Captain, I appreciate that you want to return to your normal appearance as quickly as possible, but I am resisting the idea of tampering with your body any more than is absolutely necessary at the moment. It's undergone a massive transformation, and I consider using medical techniques to stimulate follicle growth as ... unwise at this point."
"So I'm bald," she said, cutting to the chase.
"For the time being," the balding hologram sighed. "It will have to grow in naturally." He raised an eyebrow sardonically. "At least, you have that option. One might be a little more grateful for the big miracles."
"I am, Doctor," she said meekly. "Thank you." She must be on the road to recovery, she decided. His abrasive nature generally increased in direct proportion to the health of his patients.
His dark eyes softened. "Be patient, Captain. In the meantime, might I suggest a new dress code, one that includes hats as part of the uniform?"
So it was when she walked onto the bridge a day or so later, a jaunty red beret perched on her head. She looked around to find every single member of the bridge crew sporting head gear of some fashion in quiet support. Chakotay boasted a black, flared Stetson, while Tom Paris had a wrinkled, dusty fedora pulled low over his baby blue eyes. Harry Kim wore a baseball cap twisted so that the rim was at the back, and even Tuvok wore a colorful bandanna, very similar to the one he had used to disguise himself during the mission to the past on Earth to stop a 20th century entrepreneur from exploiting 29th century technology.
Janeway paused, looking back over her shoulder at her partner who had accompanied her on this brief visit to the command center after leaving sickbay, only to see that Seven had somehow acquired a beret herself, blue to match her outfit. Janeway blinked rapidly against the tears welling in her eyes, and she smiled tremulously at all her senior staff.
"As you were," she ordered huskily, and they grinned back at her with unrepentant affection, though the Vulcan's expression was considerably more subdued. But in his dark eyes, she could read his gratitude at seeing her on her feet once more. "Status?"
"Maintaining station keeping off the other Voyager's port bow," Chakotay responded.
Janeway nodded. "Vice Admiral Johnson and Dr. Hansen will be dining in my quarters this evening. Afterward, as soon as they beam off and their vessel has cleared our universe, resume course for the Alpha Quadrant."
"Understood," Chakotay said, reaching up to tip his hat in salute. "Ma'am."
She made a brief face at him, and smiled. "You have the bridge, Commander."
She was silent on the short descent to the deck containing her quarters, very aware of her partner hovering close by though Seven did not actually touch her. Janeway supposed it was something she would just have to get used to over the next few days. After all, this had frightened her partner tremendously, and she remembered clearly, when Seven had been thought dead ... though she had actually transported to the Alpha Quadrant ... Janeway had made a point of visiting astrometrics approximately fifty-three times a duty shift for the entire week following the Borg's return.
She was fully cognizant of the fact that little tidbit hadn't been in the logs, personal or mission, and she realized suddenly she hadn't told anyone that her memories had returned in full. She wasn't sure exactly why she was keeping it to herself.  She supposed that she wanted to make sure they would remain permanently, rather than turn out to be some temporary side effect of the experience she had undergone.  She was afraid they would vanish once she was fully recovered.
When the turbolift doors opened, she was not shy about reaching over to rest her hand on Seven's forearm, leaning a little on her spouse as they walked down the corridor toward their cabin. Janeway was still fairly fragile, and it occurred to her that she had gotten used to feeling at the top of her game all the time. She had to remember that even when she regained her full health, she still wouldn't be as strong as she had been in the months leading up to the final collapse.
Ruefully, she wondered how long she could hold off the people wanting to play Velocity with her. She had rather enjoyed her undefeated streak, and understood that it was unlikely that she would be able to maintain it now. She glanced over at her partner as they entered their quarters. Perhaps she would just retire from the game altogether, Janeway decided, and take up something else. Like Parcheesi or billiards. Heck, it had been awhile since she had gotten out the old pool cue and scratched the table at Sandrines. She knew she could whip everyone's ass in that, and she wondered how long it would take to teach Seven how to play.
The Borg made the captain comfortable in the chair in the living area and went over to her kitchenette, tossing the beret onto a stand in the corner. Janeway quirked an eyebrow as she saw the slender piece of furniture, obviously newly replicated, and counted three more very stylish hats hanging from the wooden hooks.  From his doggy bed, Jake came over tentatively, as if he knew she was still weak and gently lay his head on her knee. She patted him, stroking the silky red hair with true enjoyment.
"Hey, boy," she crooned as she scratched behind his ears, his tail wagging so hard, his hind quarters swayed. She grinned faintly, and looked up at her spouse who was pulling out her utensils.  "So, what are we serving this evening?"
Seven looked up and smiled brightly. Janeway's heart caught at the absolute joy radiating from it.
"I believe I shall go with the chicken and vegetable stirfry," Seven told her, already laying out the ingredients from beneath the counter where she must have replicated them earlier. "It is quickly made and seems to be accepted by a wide variety of tastes."
Janeway nodded and glanced over at a wine bottle chilling in the ice bucket on the coffee table, realizing the Borg had everything well in hand. Such a perfect hostess Seven had turned into, she noted with wry amusement. A domestic goddess of formidable proportions, which was fortunate because Janeway tended to be hopeless at such things. 
Her comm badge chirped and she touched it. "Janeway here."
"Captain Johnson and Dr. Hansen have requested permission to beam over," Chakotay told her.
"Give them the tour, Commander. Then, escort them here."
"Will do," he said and signed off.
"Seven, quickly. Time got away from me."
The Borg came around the counter and helped the captain to her feet, supporting her as she went into the ensuite where the captain showered quickly and dressed in a midnight blue shirt and cream-colored skirt. Janeway wrapped a silk blue and silver scarf around her head like a turban, and then leaned on her partner as they returned to the living area just as the door chime sounded.
"As always, darling," Janeway murmured. "Your timing is impeccable."
"And yours is improving," Seven responded lightly, brushing her lips gently over Janeway's cheek before going to the door to admit their guests.
 
Dr. Hansen looked around the captain's cabin surreptitiously. She was consumed with curiosity about how a Borg and a Starfleet captain would cohabitant, and she was surprised to find it quite ... homey. There was even a little kitchenette, and the delicious aroma of their meal that filled the air was underlain with a more subtle, sweetish chocolate odor.  She wondered if Seven had the same appreciation for sweets that she did. 
The place was also spotless ... surprising since they had a long haired Irish Setter living with them named Jake. Johnson was clearly pleased to see it, exclaiming over how well trained it was ... Seven's doing according to Janeway ... and how big it had gotten ... Janeway's habit of feeding it unnecessary snacks, according to Seven. Annika, on the other hand, was horrified to find out it had yet to reach its mature growth, and she eyed Johnson warily as she patted and fawned over the animal.  She certainly hoped that she wasn't expected to accept such a big, hairy animal into her life anytime soon.
In any event, the quarters gave no indication of pet hair or odor, not even by the line of hedge like plants cordoning off a corner by the bedroom that clearly belonged to the dog. Hansen also noticed that there were no padds or coffee mugs left lying around the work stations, a distinct difference from her own cabin which Johnson continually threatened to declare a disaster zone. As they sat at the dinner table, the scientist's eyes kept trailing to the odd collection of knickknacks cluttering the shelves, strange ornaments and artwork, obviously gathered from a variety of planets and cultures. Some of them actually made her head ache to look at them for very long, and she wondered who had picked them out. Then her eye was taken by a holo-image sitting on the work station ... Janeway and Seven standing together, the captain in dress whites, the Borg in what appeared to be ... a wedding dress?
"Are you two married?"
Seven looked oddly at her. "Yes, for three months," she responded, as if it should have been obvious.  Hansen saw Janeway shoot her spouse a soft look, all shy and pleased, and the young scientist felt a pang in her heart, wondering if she and Johnson would ever achieve that level of closeness.
She took another bite of her rice and vegetables, amazed at the flavor of it. She had thought the chef in Frisco's had been an artist, but this was incredible. She glanced over at Seven, wondering why a Borg would decide to acquire a skill that had, for the most part, become obsolete.
"This is wonderful," Johnson said, raising an eyebrow at the captain. "It's just like Mother used to make. How did you program the replicator to reproduce all the subtleties of the flavor?"
Janeway smiled briefly at her and nodded at Seven. "Don't look at me. Seven's developed into quite the Traditionalist, and learned all these recipes from the source, herself." At Johnson's confounded look, she held up a hand. "It's a long story."
One that Hansen knew, having heard the whole tale from Seven during the last universe-switching encounter, and she made a mental note to tell Johnson about it later.
Johnson regarded Seven with surprise, then glanced at Hansen with a speculative look in her eyes. The scientist sat up abruptly, frowning.
"Oh, no," Hansen responded warningly. "I'm not going to learn to cook from scratch if that's what you have in mind."
Obviously, that had been exactly what the Vice Admiral had in mind, and her disappointed expression made the other three smile, even Seven who had apparently detected the subtle nuances of the exchange. Johnson smiled ruefully, and glanced at Janeway.
"Wanna trade?"
Startled, Janeway laughed out loud, a husky, full-bodied laugh. "Sorry," she said, shooting an affectionate look at Seven. "I've almost finished developing my Annika into exactly what I want her to be."
Seven and Hansen exchanged significant looks at this bit of hyperbole.
"Does yours drink far too much coffee?" Seven asked in a long suffering tone.
"Oh yes," Hansen said in a similar, much put-upon voice. "Also, she never calls to say she'll be late, or worse, when she's not coming by for dinner at all."
Seven leaned over. "I have dissuaded mine of that particular flaw. You throw dishes at her until she apologizes."
Hansen laughed, and glanced at Johnson who was looking at the captain in commiseration.
"Only the once," Janeway protested.
"It was my birthday," Seven noted gravely, causing her spouse to blush.
Johnson also sank in her chair, and Hansen looked back at Seven. "She missed mine completely. She didn't realize for a month and a half."
Seven winced in sympathy and together, they regarded the two older women accusingly.  Johnson and Janeway exchanged glances.
"I believe we've lost this one," Janeway noted.
"I do think a strategic retreat is in order," Johnson agreed.
"I've found that roses sometimes turn the tide in my favor," Janeway offered helpfully.
"Hmm, I find ice cream works as well. Cherry Vanilla."
"No, I don't think so," Janeway objected, wincing at the thought. "Seven became violently ill the last time she tried ice cream. Of course, she had about half a pint, in addition to a huge piece of chocolate cake, five hot dogs loaded with chilli, and a stack of potato chips."
"I did not understand the concept of 'junk' food," Seven explained to her counterpart. She brightened. "It was Naomi's birthday, and she wished for me to experience the full effect."
Janeway sighed. "That you did ... all over the ensuite floor."
Seven blushed. "I did not quite make it to the waste disposal unit. Vomiting is a human condition of which I am not particularly fond."
"None of us are, darling," Janeway said with a gentle smile, reaching over to pat her partner's hand lovingly.
Hansen thought this was so unbearable cute, she wondered if she could possibly survive it. It occurred to her that the four were sharing a bond of unusual intimacy, talking easily as if they had known each other for years and years. She supposed that might be the case whenever counterparts from any universe got together ... not that it would happen often enough to make a concrete analysis of it.
"Who's Naomi?" she asked, trying to get off the subject of regurgitation.
"The ship's youngest crewmember," Janeway explained. "She's the only child born on Voyager in the Delta Quadrant to date."
"She is my friend," Seven added, launching into an explanation about the girl who had made such an impact on her life, and their many adventures. Hansen listened in fascination, amazed at how animated her normally cool and restrained counterpart had become.
"She's sounds like a good kid," Hansen said finally when Seven finished. She glanced over at Johnson. "Not that I would ever want any, of course," she added with a laugh.
Immediately, she knew she had said something wrong, a shadow passing over both Janeway and Seven's faces. Johnson picked up on it as well, and promptly changed the subject, directing the conversation to the trials she had faced trying to get the various people together to crew this experimental transwarp mission of Voyager. She soon had the couple smiling again with her anecdote of her first meeting with Montgomery Scott, and how the pair of them, along with Dr. Pulaski, had spent a rather interesting evening the night before their departure in a bar at Marsport Station.
Hansen joined in with her story of how she had to help the Vice Admiral recover in time to take command the next day, even as she mentally filed away the expressions her earlier words had provoked. The conversation eventually moved from the table and into the living area, where Seven served sweets and coffee.  Coffee that Johnson not only offered to trade Hansen for again, but also seemed willing to toss in all her extra credits and the new sauna she had installed in her quarters back on Mars. To which Janeway refused outright, and Hansen had the feeling that she was going to have to learn to make this particular blend. The four talked and laughed like old friends, and Hansen was struck again by how very gently Seven treated the captain, and in turn, how Janeway treated her spouse with the utmost respect and tenderness. The pair were obviously more comfortable with each other than during the last universe transversing, and the scientist hoped that one day soon, she and Johnson would achieve that same level of profound love and commitment.
Hansen was the first to notice that Janeway was starting to lag, and she nudged Johnson quietly. They made their excuses and said their good-byes, embracing the other two tightly, knowing how unlikely it was they would ever see each other again. As Johnson and Hansen stepped into the turbolift, the scientist surprised her companion by speaking up and giving an alternate destination than the transporter room they had arrived in.
"What are you doing?" Johnson asked, staring at her.
"I need to find something out," Hansen told her in a thoughtful tone. "It shouldn't take too long."
 
Epilogue

The next evening, with the other Voyager having departed for their own universe and their own
Voyager resuming its course to the Alpha Quadrant, Seven of Nine sat on the couch with the captain cradled lovingly in her arms. She rested her chin on the soft auburn fuzz covering the warm scalp, and felt the ragged parts of her begin to slowly knit together inside.
"Do you know," she asked softly, "how very, very precious you are to me?"
"As precious as you are to me," Janeway responded quietly, snuggled up against Seven, her face pressed against the slope of the Borg's chest, her hand resting on her shoulder. The captain's legs were tucked up under her and most of her weight was leaning against the young woman, which Seven gratefully and joyfully accepted.
"This was ... a very difficult experience," the Borg admitted. "Despite the hope the transwarp coil schematics may give us for the future. It was good of them to leave them behind."
"I know, Annika, but we made it through. We always manage to find a way ... even if sometimes it's our other selves that end up fixing it. Who knows, maybe we'll even be able to use those schematics someday, though for now, it looks like it would be easier to steal another coil from the Borg rather than attempt to build one ourselves."
Seven brushed her lips against the top of Janeway's head and hugged her lightly, not wanting to think about ship's business, or transwarp coil schematics, or anything other than the woman in her arms. "I love you, my Kathryn. I believe I understand now what you have been trying to teach me about the need to fight for life. Even if it is not for yourself, there are other people whose lives would be lessened if one was simply ... to give up."
Janeway shifted, leaning back so she could look up into her partner's face. "Funny, I was thinking how much I now understand your view that life could sometimes be so horrific, it would be impossible to want to survive it, let alone live it." She smiled wistfully. "I guess, if we both keep learning, eventually we'll meet in the middle somewhere."
"That would be acceptable," Seven agreed with a hint of humor and bent her head, kissing her partner with careful tenderness.
When they parted finally, Janeway sighed and snuggled back into Seven's arms. "I love you, too, my darling," the captain murmured, her face pressed against the hollow of the Borg's throat. "In case I haven't said it in a while."
Seven smiled, knowing that Janeway was being facetious. The captain told her how she felt more now, than at any other time in their relationship, and it granted the young woman a sense of security and love that served as a solid foundation for her continued existence. The Borg glanced at the large, antique grandfather clock that had just altered its readout, noting the lateness of the hour.
"I believe it is time for bed."
"That sounds like a good idea," Janeway agreed.
But neither of them moved from this warm corner of the couch, holding on to each other as if afraid to let go. It was finally the chime at the door that forced them to get up, Seven untangling from her partner to go answer it.
"Who'd be stopping by at this hour?" Janeway asked with a mix of bafflement and annoyance, leaning back against the cushions.
Seven keyed the door to open, and blinked as she saw the Doctor standing there. He had an odd expression on his face, and she knew how unusual it was for him to visit. The only previous times he had been in their quarters, it had been of a medical nature, and he had beamed his matrix directly into the cabin itself. She noted that he was holding a metal cylinder, not too large but with the unmistakable markings of cryogenic suspension on the labeling.
"Doctor?" she said, eyeing him curiously.
"Sorry to stop by so late," he said, brushing past her to enter the quarters, nodding formally at Janeway who quirked an eyebrow at him. Seven returned to the sofa beside the captain as he took a seat in the chair, and set the container on the coffee table.
"I was going to save this for your next checkup, but Sek convinced me that you should know about it as soon as possible. Now that the other Voyager has returned to its universe, I'm granted leave to pass this information along."
Janeway held up a hand. "A moment, Doctor," she instructed. "Start from the beginning."
He regarded them gravely. "Dr. Hansen came to me last night and asked me some questions that normally I would not have responded to. Except for the fact that she is essentially Seven herself."
"What sort of questions?" Seven asked, puzzled.
"About your medical history." The Doctor hesitated. "I thought I saw where she was going so I answered them. Otherwise, I assure you, I would not. Patient confidentiality is very important to me ... as you both know."
Janeway raised her head suddenly, and Seven got the impression that her partner had just formed a tentative conclusion, one that caused the blood to drain from her face, and her eyes to shade to gray. Concerned, she reached over and took her hand, holding onto it tightly.
"Go on," Seven instructed evenly, requiring more data, and hoping that it would give her enough to make her own conclusion.
"I told her that you were incapable of reproducing genetically, that the Borg had removed all trace of your reproductive organs. She wanted to know if you wished to have children, and I don't believe I was being presumptuous in saying that it was exceptionally important to you." A tiny smile quirked the corner of his mouth. "We agreed that this was an unfortunate state of affairs so with her cooperation, I harvested several eggs from her ovaries. They will have to be matured, of course, but they are Annika Hansen, right down to the smallest genetic strand." He patted the container, indicating exactly where those eggs were at the moment.
Seven didn't quite understand what that meant at first. Then it began to sink in, and she looked over at Janeway to verify what she was thinking. Janeway's face was soft and shy, a pleased expression as she looked back at Seven, smiling warmly.
"When we choose to have children," the captain confirmed, "genetically, they can be as much a part of you as they will be of me ... if that's what you want."
Seven did not know what she was feeling as the Doctor finally made his exit, bearing the precious container back to sickbay where it would be stored until needed. Until, Seven realized, she and Kathryn decided to create offspring. She found it hard to breathe suddenly, her heart filling her chest that seemed far too small to contain it.
"How do I thank my counterpart for this?" she asked softly as Janeway resumed her seat beside her. She was leaning forward, staring blankly at the opposite work space. "It is a gift of such magnitude."
"You can't really," Janeway said with a small smile as she wrapped her arm around Seven's waist. "You just accept it as graciously as you can, and hold that person in your heart forever. You also hope that somehow, they understand exactly what it was that they have given you, and take the same joy from it."
Seven searched for the words that seemed so lacking in the ability to convey the emotion she was experiencing. Finally she just shook her head.
"I hope they visit again, someday."
Janeway leaned over and kissed her.
"So do I, my love," she whispered. "So do I." 
 
One Universe Over

The Golden Gate bridge of San Francisco seemed to glow in the bright light of the Californian sunshine, the water of the bay sparkling like a thousand jewels. Johnson stared out at the scene through the huge plexiglass windows, standing at easy attention in the office of Admiral Nechayev. The insignia on her collar was still that of a Vice Admiral, but Johnson had four gold pips tucked away safely in the inner pocket of her tunic.  She wanted to be wearing them when she left here, though she knew that might prove to be a faint hope at best.  She had yet to judge the mood of the other woman who suddenly entered, moving briskly.
"Vice Admiral," Necheyev greeted gravely, taking a seat behind the huge desk which dwarfed the tiny frame of the blonde officer. "Difficult mission?"
Kathryn turned, raising an eyebrow. "Admiral," she returned the greeting politely. "Not at all."
The small woman's eyes narrowed. "If I remember correctly, when you came to me with that wild scheme to open a rift into the other universe, I told you no.  Now I find that you've gone off and done it anyway."
Kathryn took a breath, straightening her spine. "Admiral, your refusal was based on lack of resources to create such a rift. That was solved by my science officer.  Your other concern regarding the lack of tangible benefit from such an experiment was resolved by the astrometric charts and the data we returned with."
Necheyev glared at her, then snorted, leaning back in her chair. "All right, Johnson, I understand what you're saying. I'm not stupid, but that leaves us with a bit of a problem. You're not willingly going to return to being the administrator of the Olympia facility, are you?"
A muscle in Kathryn's jaw twitched. "No," she said quietly, but firmly. "I'm going to hang onto my ship with everything I've got."
Necheyev studied her keenly for long moments, the silence stretching on to the point of breaking before she finally spoke.  "It's about time."
Startled, Kathryn blinked, not understanding.  "Admiral?"
The small woman's head came up.  "The worst thing you ever did was marry that Johnson fellow, and accept that promotion. I told you then it was a mistake, and it didn't take long to discover how big."
Kathryn flushed.  "I remember," she said uncomfortably.  She took a  breath.  "Then why didn't you give me back a ship when I requested it."
Necheyev smiled faintly.  "It wasn't our place. We don't need administrators out there, Johnson, we need leaders, especially in a Federation that's still reeling from the Dominion war.  We weren't going to send out someone who didn't even know what they wanted to be.  We had to be sure you were ready to take command, not just be given it."
Kathryn felt a little faint.  "And now you are?" 
"Let's just say that someone who fights for something is a lot more useful to us than someone who just  politely asks for it with nothing more than the properly filled out paperwork," Necheyev noted slowly. Then her jaw firmed, and her eyes glinted.
"Johnson, your fate is mine to decide. Consider yourself demoted one rank as of this moment." She held a hand up as  Kathryn's eyes brightened perceptibly. "Don't start thinking of this as some sort of reward. You still went against my orders, and while you may have the only transwarp vessel at the moment, it's still some half-baked experimental mess of merged technologies.  Unless you can prove that the thing works over a certain period of time under real mission conditions, then it and your career are probably going to be dumped down the nearest black hole. Don't expect any help from Starfleet. Every screw-up we have, every officer who ever made a wrong decision, every clumsy incompetent working on his last chance, is gonna end up in your crew. Do we understand each other, Captain Johnson?"
"Yes, ma'am," Kathryn said smartly. "We do."
"Your orders for your next mission will be cut by the time you return to your ship," Nechayev said. "You also might want to inform that scientist of yours that her request for a field commission has been approved. Beginning immediately, Dr. Annika Hansen has been accorded the rank of full lieutenant, and is assigned as Voyager's senior science officer."
Kathryn stared at her, profoundly shocked.  Nechayev's smile widened appreciatively.  "Apparently, Johnson," the Admiral added with dry amusement.  "Your girlfriend decided she wants to be in Starfleet after all.  Which is fortunate, because Command is a lot more comfortable with her being one of us if she's tagging along to monitor that propulsion drive. Otherwise, we might have had to make you leave her behind.  She's made it a lot easier for everyone concerned."
"Understood, Admiral," Kathryn said faintly.  She hadn't even known the Nechayev was aware of her relationship with Annika.  Or that Annika had been planning this.
Nechayev motioned with her head towards the door.  "You're dismissed, Captain Johnson."
"Aye, ma'am," Kathryn said obediently as she turned and headed for the door. She paused briefly as it hissed open to allow her passage, and looked back over her shoulder. "Uh, Admiral?"
"Yes, Johnson?"
Kathryn smiled faintly. "The name is Janeway. Captain Kathryn Janeway of USS Voyager."
Nechayev shot her a wry look, and Kathryn laughed all the way to the transporter sector where she waited to be sent back to her ship, and to the woman she loved.   She had no way of knowing what the future held but she believed that it would prove to be ... quite interesting.

The End

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