Just Between Truth & Lies 
G. L. Dartt

Seven of Nine, USS Voyager's astrometrics officer, returned to the captain's quarters after the traditional, post-class discussion in the messhall, her arms full of padds. It was late, almost midnight and the onset of the gamma shift. As she dropped the stack on her workstation, she became aware that, aside from the Irish Setter, Jake, there were no other lifeforms in the quarters. Frowning, she checked the bedroom and the ensuite, and then lifted her chin slightly.
"Computer, locate Captain Janeway."
"Captain Janeway is in her ready room."
Seven frowned, wondering why her spouse was working so late since the ship was traveling through a relatively quiet area of space. Then, the Borg realized that Kathryn had probably just chosen to spend time in her ready room while Seven had been in class. Though Janeway had always been very encouraging to the young woman in pursuing her studies of Starfleet, Seven thought that perhaps her spouse was finding it difficult to be by herself during those long hours in the evening when the Borg was gone. After all, Janeway was the sort that needed to fill every moment with activity and it was only at Seven's urging that she had learned to slow down a little. With Seven staying even longer in the messhall after class as she became a full participant in the discussions with her classmates, it was possible that Janeway was actually a bit lonely and was trying to channel it into work.
Seven wished she could speak to her friend, Lt. B'Elanna Torres, about it, but the chief engineer had not been available recently. The Klingon had originally attended the classes with Seven, but she had switched over to the beta shift and was now on duty when the classes were held. Seven missed her friend, but she appreciated why the engineer had switched shifts ... that B'Elanna wanted to spend more time with her new lover, Lt. Ro Laren, who also worked the beta shift.
Seven stripped off her biometric suit, showered, brushed out her hair and returned to the bedroom where the empty expanse of the bed waited. She found it unappealing and took a deep breath as a sudden thought struck her.
"Computer, is the captain still in her ready room?"
"Captain Janeway remains in her ready room."
"Is she alone?"
"There are no lifesigns other than Captain Janeway present in the ready room."
Seven considered it for a moment. Could she? Did she dare?
"Computer, seal the door to the ready room, Borg encryption code 75349," she said, reaching over to the night stand by the bed and opening the top drawer where she removed a plain, wooden box. The door command would not hold up to the captain's override of course, but it would keep anyone out of the ready room for the time being and hopefully, no one would question why it was suddenly sealed.
"Door to ready room is secure."
The ship of course, did not require explanations about why something was demanded of it. It would simply do whatever was asked unless it was a request that was directly countermanded by something else in its programming. Apparently, there was nothing that would keep it from sealing the ready room door at the request of the ship's astrometric officer. Seven pulled a brief, black robe on over her nude form and tucked the wooden box under her arm.
"Computer, site to site transport," Seven instructed. "Authorization, Seven, alpha nine. One to beam into the ready room. Place me directly behind the captain's chair."
She felt the mildly disconcerting sensation of dematerialization, and then the silver and teal decor of the captain's inner sanctum appeared around her. Janeway's back was to her, half risen out of her chair, her hands flat on the desk surface. Seven could not see her face, but by the set of the woman's shoulders, she was aware that she had surprised the captain, though whether that was a good thing, remained to be seen.
"I can't believe you did this," Janeway said in a low, dangerous voice, not turning her head.
Seven hesitated, judging which way this would go. Not long ago, the captain had related a fantasy to her spouse, which included the Borg suddenly showing up naked in the ready room, along with the couple's accessory, and involved a sexual encounter on the ready room desk. But fantasies turned into reality were not always appreciated and carefully, Seven reached out to run her fingertips down the back of Janeway's neck, just above the collar of her uniform, stroking lightly.
"Sit," she commanded quietly.
If the captain was prepared to accept this particular foray of Seven's, she would comply with the request. Otherwise, she would turn around to face the Borg and Seven was not completely sure how it would go in that event, but she suspected it wouldn't be pleasant. There was a pause, all the possibilities of how the next few moments would go, poised keenly on a knife's edge for what seemed like an eternity. Then exhaling audibly, Janeway sank back into her chair, her hands still resting limply on the desktop.
"Computer," Janeway said in a voice that was not entirely steady. "Seal the ready room, authorization, Janeway delta blue, three, three, red, seven."
Seven heaved a silent sigh of relief and relaxed marginally. She slipped off her robe and tossed it over the nearby console, before placing the box gently on top of it. Then she leaned over the chair and placed her hands on the captain's shoulders, massaging lightly.
"Seven, we can't---" Janeway began.
"Be silent," Seven said, her eidetic memory replaying the details of the captain's fantasy, determined to make the scenario work even if it was not exactly as Janeway had described. She did know that the captain had envisioned Seven as being very authoritative in her description, demanding rather than requesting.
The young woman heard Janeway swallow then, a convulsive sort of gulp, but the captain did not speak anymore. Seven discovered the emotions flashing through her were quite intriguing. There was something quite thrilling about being able to command the commander, to make demands of the captain and know that she would follow them. She wondered if Janeway was feeling the same way, that no longer being in charge of the situation was providing a sort of illicit pleasure for her?
Seven moved around the chair, finding that the high back made it difficult to access her partner easily. Janeway's smoky blue-grey eyes widened as she finally caught sight of the nude, six-foot form of her partner, but she still did not speak and Seven found that was also exciting in some strange way. She pushed Janeway back from the desk slightly, enough so that she could get between the captain and the furniture, slipping her long leg over her spouse's knees until she was half straddling her. She leaned back against the desk and looked imperiously down at her spouse, who was languidly looking Seven up and down with obvious interest. Deliberately, Seven spread her legs as her buttocks rested on the edge of the desk.
"Use your mouth," she demanded arrogantly. She had heard the same words used in a provocative manner recently while eavesdropping on something that she perhaps should not have been. She had been impressed with the power implied in them and wondered if they would affect Janeway the same way that they had affected her.
Startled, Janeway's eyes rose to meet hers, then, with a quirk of her eyebrow, the captain obligingly leaned forward. Seven jerked involuntarily as she felt the warm breath of her spouse wash over her, but Janeway did not touch her right away, proving that there was still a measure of control in her hands. Seven's grip tightened on the lip of the desk as she waited. After what seemed like an eternity, she felt Janeway's tongue dart out to delicately flick the little bundle of nerves situated at the top of her crease. The Borg closed her eyes, her head going back as she moaned softly, her weight shifting more to her buttocks and off her heels.
Janeway moved closer, hooking her arms under Seven's thighs and lifting them so that the young woman was better angled for the attention she was paying to her. However, this forced the young woman to fall back onto the desktop, barely catching herself on her elbows. Several small items were brushed aside, skidding off the desktop to fall to the carpeted deck with muffled thumps. Fortunately, it did not sound like there was any form of breakage, though Janeway's computer did give an offended chirp as the Borg's hip knocked it over without shutting it down or logging off.
The flat, smooth surface of the desk was hard and cold beneath the small of Seven's back, but the probing tongue of her spouse was so marvelously soft and hot against her intimate region that the Borg did not really notice any discomfort. The caress felt amazingly good, exciting in a way that it normally did not and Seven wondered if it was the location that was providing an additional stimulation. She felt the tip of the captain's tongue swirl firmly around the tender nub which was swollen and achingly sensitive, then arched as Janeway's mouth slipped lower, penetrating her as far as she could manage. Seven shuddered as Janeway then returned to her previous caress, capturing the tiny ridge between her lips and sucking on it gently. Breathing was quickly growing difficult for the Borg and tremors began to make themselves felt as she pressed herself up against the maddening sensations.
"Kathryn," she moaned. "Oh, Kathryn."
Janeway intensified her oral caress, becoming more localized, more deliberate and Seven felt herself reach a peak, spasming beneath the lips of her beloved. Janeway continued to pleasure the Borg, gradually becoming slower, gentler before finally withdrawing, kissing along the tender skin of Seven's inner thigh. Seven took a moment to slow her pounding heart after her partner had released her, and then sat up on the desk to regard Janeway who was looking entirely too smug as she leaned back against her chair, arms crossed, a crooked grin on her softly smeared lips. 
Seven shifted her weight to her feet and reached out, grasping the front of Janeway's tunic, pulling her up into her arms. "You," she noted against the lips which still held the young woman's own flavor, "are incorrigible."
Janeway wrapped her arms around the naked Borg, and kissed her back, hard.
"And you my dear, are far too presumptuous to come in here like this," Janeway murmured as soon as they parted. "But I love it. And I love you." She kissed her again, more gently. "Go home. I'll see you in a few minutes."
"No," Seven objected immediately. "I came here with a purpose, and I have yet to carry it out."
"Seven," Janeway began, hesitated, then tried again, in a softer, more amused tone. "Darling, you didn't---"
"Yes," Seven interrupted, reaching past the captain to retrieve the box lying on her robe. "I did bring it."
Janeway stared at it, than at her, a muscle twitching briefly in her jaw. "Annika," she began warningly, "I don't think..."
"Be silent," Seven repeated, leaning forward to punctuate it with as intense a kiss as she could manage while placing the box on the nearby console.
Janeway melted into the Borg's arms and Seven thought that she had won this argument rather handily ... even as she suspected that some of the captain's protests were more for show than anything else. She began to unfasten the captain's tunic, peeling it off Janeway's shoulders and dropping it onto the desk behind her. Then, with a few, quick tugs, she freed Janeway's sweater from where it was tucked into the black trousers, running her hands underneath it and touching warm, soft flesh which made the captain gasp. Seven captured the sound in her throat as they kissed again, exploring her partner's warm mouth with passionate intent, her hands slipping up to cover the soft swells of the captain's breasts, feeling the nipples poking hard against her palms through the thin material of Janeway's undergarment. Carefully, the Borg squeezed the soft handfuls, chafing the little protrusions teasingly, feeling them grow even harder against her skin. Wanting suddenly to taste the firm little points, she pushed the restrictive garments up over Janeway's head and dropped them behind her next to the tunic. Then she fell upon the firm little breasts, covering the near nipple with her lips as she rolled the other between her forefinger and thumb.
"Oh, god, Annika," Janeway moaned, wrapping her arms warmly about the Borg's head, holding her close to her. "Do you know what you do to me?"
Seven was sure she did, and happily continued to do so, alternating back and forth between the velvet-soft nipples with her mouth before she finally trailed up the captain's chest, to her throat and finally to her lips.
"Lay down on the desk," she instructed, once she was able to free her mouth from the captain's hungry kisses.
Janeway hesitated a moment, breathing harshly, then uttered a startled gasp when her partner did not wait. Gently, but firmly Seven positioned Janeway face down on the desktop where, unlike the Borg, the captain's body was protected from the cold surface by the pile of clothing placed there earlier. Because of that, Seven decided that the noise her partner made next was purely from surprise rather than any complaint about the surface she was on. Certainly, the captain did not give voice to any further protests when Seven dropped her hands to the captain's waist, slipping beneath the elasticized band and pushing the uniform trousers down over her hips, leaving Janeway's buttocks hiked high and exposed in the cool air. Seven regarded this tableau for a long moment, intrigued by how appealing it looked, then placed her hands on the full cheeks, massaging each of the soft swells playfully.
The captain groaned loudly, though she was obviously trying to remain quiet, and was forced to bury her face in her arms to muffle any further noise. Seven blinked, realizing that her partner was truly caught up in the fantasy now, completely accepting what her partner was attempting to do. Carefully, the Borg dipped her fingers in the heat and moisture waiting for her ... so much moisture that it was actually spreading down the inside of Kathryn's thighs ... and the captain quivered at her touch. Seven fondled the region thoroughly, impressed by how hard the little nub was beneath her fingertips, Janeway jerking spastically every time she brushed over it. Then Seven's fingers slipped inside the captain with amazing ease and there was another subdued cry from Janeway, a sound of demand and impatience.
The captain swallowed and tried to speak.
"Yes, Kathryn?" Seven inquired, bending over her to hear the hoarse whisper.
"Now," the captain urged. "Please, do it now, Annika. I don't want to wait any longer."
Seven kissed the captain's ear. "Yes, my Kathryn," she promised and Janeway shuddered once more, this time with anticipation. Seven quickly opened the box next to her and withdrew the artificial penile device, using the small remote to adjust the wand's settings so that it resembled the shape, size and coloration approximating the genitalia of the average Terran male. Then she attached it to herself firmly before moving to a position directly behind Janeway.
She wrapped her fingers around the wand in order to guide it to the right place and slowly ran the fat, mushroom head up and down the swollen crease, lubricating it liberally with the copious moisture even as the action further stimulated the captain. Seven never felt in a hurry to do this, always wanting to prolong the actual penetration for as long as possible. The device, when activated, was not merely an inanimate extension of the Borg; it had sensors which returned signals back to where it was attached to Seven's body, making it seem as if the young woman's natural little erection was actually extended to a length of approximately 15 centimeters. The sensation of entering Kathryn was a unique and provocative experience for Seven, the sensation of the warm, wet walls drawing her in served to excite her in a way she did not entirely understand, but always appreciated. She lingered over the process, stroking the captain's intimate flesh with the head lingeringly, making Janeway cry out more than once in her desire and need. Occasionally, Seven wondered if Human males performed in this manner or if they had an entirely different approach to the process.
Finally, the young woman found Janeway's opening and she pressed the tip of her simulated penis against it. There was always a faint resistance at this point, no matter how ready the captain was and Seven had learned to penetrate past it in a way that pleasured Kathryn rather than caused her any discomfort. Then slowly, very slowly, she eased into her partner, the heat and wetness seeming to surround her, squeezing with familiar intimacy. She moaned softly, echoed by Janeway who arched back to meet the slow, steady thrust until finally, Seven was completely buried inside her.
"Oh, Annika," Janeway mumbled, "Oh, darling, can you ... I want to make it a bit larger."
Surprised, Seven quirked an eyebrow and obligingly pressed the tiny remote control into Janeway's hand when she reached back for it.  The captain fumbled with the controls for a moment as Seven remained still within her, then finally returned it to the Borg.  Astounded at the new settings, Seven slowly withdrew, noting that the parameters were significantly larger than what had been used previously, but she accepted that the captain knew what she was doing and what she could accommodate comfortably. It was a bit ... disconcerting however.
"Now, Annika," Janeway demanded.  "Do it."
"Yes, Kathryn," Seven responded obediently, running her hands over the captain's back, down over her buttocks and up her ribs as she pressed into Janeway carefully, then just as slowly, withdrew. She had never made love with the accessory in this position before. It was fascinating to be able to look down and see the artificial penis reappear, particularly in its increased dimensions, glistening from Janeway's moisture, before disappearing again into her partner's body as the Borg thrust her hips forward. Seven found this arousing in some strange way, particularly how Kathryn's buttocks felt against her groin and she leaned over the captain, pressing down on her, her breasts flattening against Janeway's back, the skin velvet against the hard points of her nipples.
"Oh, yes, Annika," Janeway cried softly, huskily, rocking beneath her. "Oh, god ... yes, take me, darling ... faster ... it's so good..."
Seven gradually increased the speed of her motion, tempering it to a steady rhythm as she reached down to the front of her partner, her fingers finding that hard little organ and fondling it as she thrust, making Janeway lurch back against her. Their coupling continued for several delicious moments, encouraged by the increasingly profane, intense urging of the captain, and then abruptly, Janeway was bucking beneath the Borg in that amazing spasm of pleasure and delight that squeezed Seven, milking around her hardness. In that brief instant of her partner's climax, Seven was able to forget that it was a device attached to her, able to believe that it was indeed a natural extension of herself which felt Kathryn drawing her in deeper, triggering the Borg's own spasm of ecstasy.
"Kathryn, oh, Kathryn," Seven breathed, shuddering as the climax overwhelmed her before finally letting her go. She remained over Janeway, her body warming her as they both caught their breath, the Borg nuzzling her spouse lovingly on her neck and cheek.
After a moment or so, she sensed Janeway shifting uncomfortably beneath her and she quickly, but gently withdrew, knowing that Kathryn did not wish the device inside her past a certain point. She used the remote control to detach it and placed both items on the desk before wrapping her arms around Kathryn, gathering her up and pulling her back into the chair where she could curl up on the Borg's lap. Janeway seemed unusually vulnerable at the moment, snuggling in her arms as if seeking comfort, obviously needing to be held and the young woman draped her robe around them, both for warmth and the implied protection, hugging her tightly. 
"That was incredible," Janeway said finally, her face pressed against Seven's throat. "But now I have to clean up a bit and get dressed."
"Yes," Seven agreed wryly. "So that you may leave the ready room and return to our quarters for the night where you shall undress again for bed."
The captain chuckled softly. "I don't have a choice, I'm afraid," she said. "People know I'm in here. You can always beam back without anyone being the wiser ... at least, I hope no one finds out you were here."
"I masked the initial transport using Borg encryption codes which I set up some time ago," Seven admitted. "So no one will be aware of it unless they check the transporter record sub-routines. The only person who would do that is Tuvok." Seven kissed Janeway's temple. "He would be extremely indifferent about the purpose of this even if he speculated about the reasoning behind it."
"Yes, thank god for Vulcan disinterest in Human romance."
"Did you find this romantic, Kathryn?" Seven asked curiously and, she admitted to herself, somewhat anxiously. "Was it all you anticipated it to be?"
Janeway raised her face, finding Seven's lips and kissing her lovingly. "I'm not sure 'romantic' is the word," she allowed slowly. "But it was incredibly provocative, darling, and amazingly stimulating. I didn't know if the reality of such a fantasy would be as ... acceptable as it was in my imagination, but I find I'm able to trust you in a way I've never trusted anyone else, Annika. I can surrender to you and know that you will never take advantage of it, or me. Thank you for making yet another of my fantasies come true."
"You are welcome," Seven remarked, even as she realized she didn't quite understand all that the captain was referring to. She took a breath. "I should return to our quarters now," she added, releasing her partner reluctantly.
"I think that's probably wise," Janeway agreed as she stood up. "Hmm, I don't think I've ever done anything like this with my boots still on." She started to pull up her pants, colored faintly and glanced at Seven. "Uh..."
Seven was already on her way to the ensuite where she found a few clean cloths, wet them with warm water and returned to the ready room where she handed one to her spouse. As Janeway utilized it, Seven discreetly turned away and straightened out Janeway's sweater and bra, instinctively understanding that the captain would be uncomfortable with Seven watching her wipe away the excess moisture generated by their encounter, though why that was, she wasn't entirely sure. Kathryn being 'Human' again, the Borg decided indulgently.
After drawing on her robe, Seven retrieved the wonder wand, wiping it down with the cloth and replacing it in the box. The device looked a bit forlorn in its velvet cradle now that its task was complete and Seven smiled faintly as she shut the lid. With a certain amount of dismay, she suddenly realized that she had left her communicator in her quarters. Though she could access the computer there without it because the comm system in that area was attuned to her, she could not request transport in the ready room which was set to accept commands of this sort only in the captain's voice.
"Kathryn?" she asked shyly and Janeway who was pulling on her tunic, paused to smile at her.
"Yes, darling?" she asked quizzically.
Seven gestured to her left breast.  "I ... uh, forgot..." she said hesitantly.
The captain laughed. "And I thought you were always prepared," she teased as she came over and attached her own comm badge to Seven's robe. She kissed the Borg sweetly, then tapped the insignia lightly. "Computer, site to site transport, one to beam directly from ready room to the captain's quarters."
The last thing Seven saw was Kathryn's face observing her fondly before being replaced by the familiar bulkheads of their home. Smiling with satisfied contentment, the Borg carried the wonder wand into the ensuite to clean it completely, hoping that the captain would not be very long. She was tired and she could think of nothing better than to wrap herself around Kathryn's warm body as she drifted off to sleep.
 
Janeway took a deep breath, feeling wicked and wonderfully wanton, wondering how Seven managed to come up with all her various ideas, especially considering the Borg's interest in sexuality hadn't existed until two years earlier. Certainly, Seven's developing desire to experiment was liable to get them both into trouble some day. Fortunately, it was the sort of trouble that Janeway rather enjoyed. Smiling, the captain knelt down and began to pick up all the items her partner had scattered when she had been spread across the desk; the small bronze bust of da Vinci, Janeway's lucky coffee cup which luckily, had landed unscathed, a vase of flowers which had not, spreading its contents over the floor which took a few moments to clean up. Then, there was her computer, which had continued to record the log she had been in the middle of when Seven had so abruptly appeared. 
Janeway picked it up, pausing as she regarded the screen, then gingerly touched the replay. The visual display of the log had continued to record even when Seven had knocked it over to the side and from the sideways angle of where it had fallen, it had captured quite a good image of the couple as they made love on the desk. Janeway stared, drymouthed, at the image of her partner's nude form covering her supine partner from behind as she thrust into her with authority, the artificial genitalia clearly visible as it was utilized with tender and efficient skill. The audio was full of the most inelegant, profane remarks from the captain. Janeway was only able to watch and listen to the playback for so long before she had to stop it, profoundly shocked at the sheer vulgarity of her language. Blushing furiously, she carefully removed the log entry past the point Seven had materialized in her ready room and hid the selected cut away in a high-level, classified, for her-eyes-only, high security folder before replacing the computer console on her desk. She should probably erase the file entirely, she thought, but there was a part of her that was titillated at the aspect of having a permanent record of their encounter. She just had to be sure no one else would ever be able to access it. It also made her realize that she and Seven had taken this particular fantasy as absolutely far as it was possible to take it for both their comfort levels. She suspected that she would not need to fantasize about a similiar situation ever again and once more, she gave thanks for finding such a wonderful, adaptable, loving and giving spouse with which to share her life.
There were a few padds that had fallen beneath the desk and she dug those out, and then found a pip embedded in the carpet that she hadn't even realized she was missing. She gingerly picked up the cloths that the couple had used earlier and carried them into the bathroom where she disposed of both before washing her hands and face. Her hair was still slightly disarrayed, but a quick pass with her brush did a presentable job. She reattached her pip and returned to her ready room. After logging off and shutting down her board, she took another quick glance around to make sure she hadn't missed anything. There was a faint aroma in the air which she hoped would dissipate quickly, and a wet spot from the vase still marred the carpet, but otherwise, there was no indication that Voyager's astrometrics officer had so completely and thoroughly ravished the captain on her ready room desk.
Janeway felt the heat rise in her cheeks once more, knowing her color was unnaturally high, so she waited a few more moments, trying to compose herself. The flashbacks of how it had felt to be taken from behind so forcefully continued to dance across her mind and she wondered how long it would be before she would be able to work at her desk with any sort of equanimity at all. Remembering the way the young woman had filled her so deeply, thrusting with firm ability even as her hand played so tenderly with the ridge of flesh between the captain's legs, Janeway felt a responsive throb from the body parts in question. She forced herself to breathe slowly, putting her fingers to her neck where she felt the flutter of a pulse that was going far too fast. It had been tremendously exciting, the Borg so commanding, powerful, and there was a part of Janeway that was wildly attracted to that, even as she knew another part of her would resist strongly if exposed to it for very long.
"Enough," she mumbled out loud, forcing the memories back to where they belonged. She hoped Seven would be still awake when she returned to her quarters. That was the only problem with using the wonder wand, she thought ... it always left her wanting more. She suspected that neither woman would be getting much sleep for the rest of the night. It was just a matter of composing herself enough to walk out through the bridge and into the turbolift without anyone noticing how ... aroused she was.
She took a few more deep breaths, and then unsealed the ready room door, surprised when she also had to get by a Borg encryption code before strolling briskly out onto the bridge.
"Captain," Tuvok said, forestalling her exit as he got to his feet. The Vulcan security chief was manning the conn at the moment and he looked at her expectantly. "May I see you privately?"
Janeway hesitated. "Of course," she said smoothly. "In my re--- in the conference room."
The door slid shut behind them and she turned. For a moment she was shocked, getting her first really good look at the Vulcan under lights that tended to be brighter than the evening watch illumination on the bridge. Tuvok actually looked a bit haggard, weary beyond measure, and there were lines in his face that she had never noticed before.
"My god," she blurted.
He quirked an eyebrow, a faint ghost of his normal, impassive demeanor.
"I was unaware my appearance required the invocation of a deity," he remarked. 
"Talk to me, Tuvok. What's this about?"
He inhaled slowly and she realized just how unusual that was. Then, it came to her in a burst of enlightenment and fear. "It's time, isn't it?" she said, mouth drying. "We need to contact the Doctor."
"No." He reached out to forestall her hand which had raised to touch the comm badge she had forgotten she no longer had and raised his head, seeking a dignity that he needed more now, than at any other time in his dealings with her. "He can do nothing. We both know it." His eyes demanded her compliance in this and despite the emotion roiling through her, she lowered her hand slowly. "It would be prudent for you to promote Lt. Ro Laren to the alpha shift by the end of the week, and install her as your new chief of security."
She stared at him, then drew away to pace about the room in agitation. "Damn it, Tuvok," she said quietly, almost angrily. "There must be something we can do."
"There is not." His voice was carefully controlled. "Captain, we both knew this day would come."
"What about drugs or meditation..." she tried, her mind whirling furiously.
"I have already delayed the onset for almost a year," he explained softly. "I can hold it off no longer. I am formally requesting that I be relieved of my duties. I will brief Lt. Ro and explain her new responsibilities to her as soon as possible."
"Tuvok," she said, stopping to look at him, spreading her hands out in intense plea. "You can't just expect me to accept this without a fight."
He opened his mouth, stopped, then started again. "Captain," he said, in a voice far gentler than she had ever heard from him before. "You may not wish to accept this, you are certainly entitled not to like it, but you must respect this. Not only because of our long friendship, but because it is what it is." His dark gaze pinned her in place. "Not even you can alter nature."
She felt tears sting her eyes and she blinked them back, not wanting them to fall where he could see them.
"There must be another option," she said huskily.
He looked bleak. "Not for me," he said quietly. "Unlike Vorik, who's biological drive could be channeled into an encounter of violence, I am bonded, Captain. The time of Pon farr is upon me and can no longer be denied. I must mate or die, and since my wife remains in the Alpha Quadrant, I must die. Now I will retire to my quarters and seal them in preparation for the inevitable outcome. There is no other choice." He took a step closer, his angular features softening with uncharacteristic affection. "I have, and always shall be your friend, Kathryn Janeway. I have been proud to serve with you. Allow me to meet my end with some semblance of dignity and honor. Do not put me on display in sickbay in a failed attempt to delay the inevitable, do not allow others in the crew to know how ... illogical and emotional the end shall be. Grant me the right to die in peace and isolation."
"Oh, Tuvok," she said. She put her hands on his forearms, knowing he could pick up her emotion through his psychic sensitivity but simply not caring. Now, at least, she wanted him to know how much she loved him. "I'm going to miss you, so much."
He dipped his head in acknowledgment of her statement, the implication that although she hated this with every fiber of her being, she was going to respect his choice. "Thank you, Kathryn," he said. He swallowed. "Regarding my katra..."
"I'll do it," she said immediately, knowing he referred to the Vulcan concept of the soul, his living spirit. Just before death, it was his people's custom to mind-meld with a friend who would be entrusted with the duty of returning it to Vulcan. Janeway felt that it would be the final gesture she could do for him, her heart aching as she contemplated this final act of an honored demise.
Impossibly, he smiled faintly. "You cannot, Kathryn. A Human, without the proper preparation, would be driven mad by the synaptic pattern displacement," he said. "Vorik has agreed to return it to our home. He will monitor my last hours so that he knows when it is ... time. You must arrange to allow his release from his duties at the proper time, as discretely as possible."
"Consider it done." Her eyes searched his face. "Tuvok ... my friend ... how am I going to do this without you?"

"You will return to the Alpha Quadrant," he said with surety. "One day. And when my katra is released, know that I will be there with you."
"I have to do something, Tuvok," she insisted weakly.
"You will. You will see that this is handled with respect and decency, just as you have conducted yourself for as long as I have known you. I am relying on you for this."
She stared at him, imprinting his face in her mind. "I ... there's so much I want to say to you, tell you what your friendship has meant to me all these years."
"There is no need. I know. I have always known."
She swallowed. "Seven will be devastated. She loves you, too."
"She is like a daughter to me. I call on you, as her chosen one, to guide her through this difficult time."
She closed her eyes, bending her head. "Damn, Tuvok."
He quirked an eyebrow. "I believe that is a succinct summation of the situation," he noted dryly. "Captain, it would be wise to restrict your site-to-site transports once I am gone. Ro Laren may not be as ... understanding or as discrete as I am."
His dry humor made her laugh, and then cry because he had always make her laugh so easily. Despite the fact he was Vulcan, and all the protocols which had been established over two centuries between their peoples, she hugged him tightly. He allowed it and even put his arms gingerly around her, hugging her back.
"Good night, Captain," he said softly.
Janeway nodded, biting her bottom lip as he carefully released her and left the conference room. Once he was gone, she covered her face with her hands and made a concentrated effort to center herself, even as her mind darted desperately from one idea to another, trying to find a way around this, attempting to come up with a way to fix it.
Except she couldn't. This was not something she could conquer or defeat. And if she tried, the chances were that not only would she fail miserably, she would end up denying Tuvok his final wish of dying with dignity. She owed him far better than that.
She took a breath and straightened, bringing the command mask down over her features through sheer willpower. As she left the conference room and moved quickly through the bridge, she noticed that Tuvok had already left, turning over command to his replacement, Lt. Harry Kim. The young man nodded at the captain, a bit of surprise in his eyes that she was still on duty, but he did not speak to her as she entered the turbolift and instructed it to take her to deck three. As it descended, she tried to come up with a way to tell Seven in a way that would not hurt the young woman any more than she absolutely had to. It was futile, however.
This is such a difficult thing to have to break to her, the captain thought, her heart hurting in her chest. How can I possibly tell her that the man she considers her surrogate father is going to die? She took a deep breath as she exited the lift, walking purposefully down the corridor to her quarters.
Inside, she patted Jake who greeted her with a sloppy swipe of his tongue, and then went into the bedroom where she found her partner curled up in the bed, apparently asleep. She looked like a rather self-satisfied angel with her hands tucked neatly in a prayer position beneath her cheek. Janeway knew she was not about to disturb such peace with her news so she went into the ensuite, moving as quietly as she could as she stripped off her uniform, removed her pips and insignia, and then tossed the clothing in the recycler. The fresh uniform was placed carefully on the sink counter for morning.
She cleaned her teeth, ran the brush through her hair, and left the bathroom. The slender arms that automatically went around her as soon as she crawled into bed were like a shelter in the coldest of nights, and gratefully, Janeway turned into the embrace, pressing her face against her partner's throat. She should tell her now, she thought.
She couldn't.
"Hold me," she whispered urgently. "Please, hold me tight, darling."
Seven obligingly hugged her spouse close, somehow understanding in that mysterious way of hers that Janeway was upset, but sensing that now was simply not the time to ask why. And because of that, Janeway was able to bury her tears in the crook of her spouse's neck and feel some measure of comfort in the loving embrace, though she knew it was only a temporary haven.
 
B'Elanna Torres lay on her back in the middle of her bed, looking up at her lover who undulated forcefully against her, feeling the wetness of the Bajoran's desire spread over her. Ro Laren was slender, dark of eyes and hair, a crinkled ridge at the bridge of her nose which denoted her Bajoran heritage. Her trim body was firm and flexible, her skin gleaming golden with perspiration in the lowered illumination as she moved and B'Elanna was mesmerized by her untamed, unrestrained beauty. Other anatomical differences of the woman's body, also indicative of the woman's species, beckoned to the Klingon and B'Elanna reached up, covering the small, firm breasts, stroking her fingers over the ripples which radiated from the pinkish nipples. Ro gasped and moaned, quivering as she dragged her f'lar ridges over the coarse hair of B'Elanna's triangle in a steady rocking motion, stimulating herself even as she supported her weight on her hands that were placed over the Klingon's generous chest. B'Elanna arched, pushing her pelvis harder against the moist flesh of the Bajoran, feeling vaguely pinned down in this position, but in the most pleasant of ways, so she was able to restrain her urge to fight it. 
Instead, she grinned, lips drawing back over her slightly pointed teeth, eyes fixated on the other woman as she strived for her climax. Ro cried out, arching abruptly as her head went back and her hands squeezed B'Elanna's full breasts almost painfully, the sudden rush of moisture dampening the Klingon's groin and sending a pleasant chill through her. B'Elanna had peaked earlier, of course, but watching her lover reach orgasm served to arouse her once more. As Ro slumped onto her, B'Elanna took the Bajoran's hand and guided it down between her legs. 
Ro laughed and kissed her passionately, obligingly rubbing hard with her fingers over B'Elanna's dual clitori, moving back and forth between them, quickly bringing the Klingon to a lusty, and loud climax, her fourth in the past hour. Finally, both women lay in a sated tangle, arms and legs entwined, the Bajoran's head resting on B'Elanna's shoulder.
The chief engineer swallowed and reached up, stroking the short dark hair of her companion lovingly.
"Anyone ever tell you how damned good you are at this?" she murmured huskily.
Ro nuzzled the Klingon's jaw. "I've had no complaints. You're pretty terrific yourself, you know."
"I want to do this every day."
"We already do it everyday," Ro pointed out. "Several times a day, as a matter of fact."
"I thought..." B'Elanna began, hesitated and trailed off.
"What?" Ro rose up on her elbow, looking down at the Klingon with a faint smile.
"I thought," B'Elanna tried again, slowly. "That it would start getting ... repetitive by now. It's not. I want you now more than ever."
"You just haven't had the right lover before." Ro rubbed her hand over B'Elanna's muscular stomach as she eyed her. "Besides, I'm making up for lost time so I have a lot of ... variety to offer at the moment."
B'Elanna laughed. "I suppose you do," she said, remembering that the Bajoran had not allowed anyone close to her for the past six years, and possibly even longer than that. In fact, Ro Laren had not even revealed herself as a prior Starfleet officer off the USS Enterprise until only a few months earlier. B'Elanna wondered if Ro's status had really made so much of a difference, and then decided it must. Even though Ro had been in the Maquis with the engineer and they had served on the same ship for years, she hadn't really taken notice of the Bajoran until her true identity was revealed. B'Elanna now knew she was completely in love with her.
She reached up, touching the Bajoran's cheek, feeling a sudden rush of tenderness. "I am so crazy about you."
Ro quirked an eyebrow. "I'm glad because I'm pretty crazy about you, too." She bent down and covered the Klingon's mouth with her own, kissing her deeply. "Now, however, I need to slip back to my quarters and get ready for my shift," she added quietly against the other woman's lips.
B'Elanna slipped her arms around the Bajoran. "No," she whispered. "Stay here."
Ro bit lightly at the Klingon's lower lip. "I can't," she said with regret. "All my work padds are there." She grinned. "You know I would never be able to get any work done when I'm visiting you."
B'Elanna took a breath. "You would if you lived here," she said. She looked directly into the Bajoran's dark eyes. "Move in with me. These are far better quarters than the ones you have and frankly, I think I'm a little better roommate than Dorado is."
Ro pulled back a little, her face sobering. "That's a pretty big step, Lanna," she said softly, leaning back against the pillows. "This wouldn't be a matter of just changing roommates." She paused. "I'm not in love with Dorado, after all."
B'Elanna took a breath, feeling quite vulnerable at the moment though she tried to cover it up with humor. "I should hope not." She rested her head on her hand, propped up by her elbow as she rolled to face the other woman. "We already spend as much off duty time together as we can. By sharing quarters, you won't have to keep going back to change or pick up personal items." She paused. "I guess I don't see what the difference would be other than it would be more convenient."
Ro brought her hand up to her face, rubbing the ridges at the bridge of her nose. "I think you know better than that," she said in a low voice. "It means making a real commitment between us."
B'Elanna felt her heart twinge. "And you're not ready for a commitment," she said evenly, hiding her hurt.
"No, I'm not," Ro said honestly. She brought her hand down and looked at B'Elanna, her eyes softening perceptibly. "And frankly, I don't think you are, either. We've been together such a short time and I think you're getting caught up in the whole 'new love' stage of things. Yes, I want to be with you, all the time. But I don't want to move in here, if three months down the road, I only have to move out. That's not good for you, that's not good for me, and it doesn't do the ship much good either. You know what it's like when things don't work out, B'Elanna. The ship's community is so small, we're in such close quarters here on the lower decks, that any little thing can disrupt the whole atmosphere."
B'Elanna controlled her temper with an effort. "This is not spur of the moment for me," she responded coolly. "I've thought about it a lot. And it's not something I just ask anyone. Kahless, you didn't see Tom or Chakotay moving in here, or me with them, did you?"
Ro stared at her. "No," she said softly, after a moment's consideration. "I didn't. I'm sorry if I thought you were taking it lightly, B'Elanna. That was an assumption I shouldn't have made. But I also know that I'm not ready for this step." She paused, sighing softly. " I'm not trying to hurt you," she added gently. "I'm just trying to be as honest as I can with you. I don't want to lie to you, even if I think telling you the truth might not be what you want to hear."
B'Elanna nodded, not happy, but acknowledging the Bajoran's words. "Okay," she said, trying for a casual tone she didn't feel. "I respect that and I appreciate your honesty. The offer's on the table. You know where I live."
Ro studied her for a few minutes more, then leaned over and kissed her. "I have to go," she said. "I'm sorry."
B'Elanna forced a smile. "Will you come by after your duty shift?"
"I'll try." Ro rolled out of bed and bent over to scoop up her clothes that had been hastily discarded the night before. She dressed quickly as B'Elanna watched, and then favored the Klingon with a parting smile before exiting.
The engineer lay in bed a while longer, feeling abandoned and annoyed even as she realized that Ro was doing her best to be completely honest in the relationship. But what happened when they didn't agree on what the next step for the couple was? B'Elanna wanted Ro to be there every evening when she went to sleep, be there every day when she got up, and most certainly to be there when she reached out in the night, at anytime in between. Obviously, Ro didn't feel that way, or if she did, she wasn't yet ready to act on it.
B'Elanna guessed she was just going to have to live with that fact.
Sighing softly, she got up and gathered up the clothes she had left on the floor from the night before, tossing them into the recycler. She quickly made up the bed, then padded naked into the ensuite where she took a quick sonic shower. She took a few moments more to brush out her hair that she had allowed to go back to a natural Klingon waviness rather than the curled, smooth bob that she had forced it into most of her time on Voyager, and returned to the main living area where she moved over to the replicator.
She materialized a new uniform, dressed quickly and left her quarters, supposing that she should stop by the messhall and have something to eat before her shift, even though she didn't feel particularly hungry. She discovered that the messhall was crowded this time of afternoon, with other people preparing for the beta shift by grabbing an early meal while some of the alpha shift crew who were working extra duty, were having a dinner break.
She nodded at the people she knew well, grabbed some alien fruit from the counter and keyed the large replicator to make herself some soup. She found an empty table off in the corner and started to eat, intending to finish her meal quickly and get to engineering. A shadow fell over her table ten minutes later and she glanced up, annoyance seeping through her as the fair-haired helmsman, Tom Paris dropped into the chair opposite her, placing his tray on the table.
"You don't mind, do you?" he said, picking up his fork and poking at his casserole. "It's pretty crowded."
She took a breath. "Not at all," she said, lying through her teeth. She reminded herself that they were both professionals and even if they had once shared a romantic alliance that had ended badly, there was no point in creating a scene over it. And she allowed that the messhall was very busy at the moment, with seats being in short supply.
They ate in silence for a few moments before Tom looked at her from beneath lowered eyes.
"Uh, B'Elanna," he said. "Can I tell you something?"
"If you must," the Klingon said shortly, concentrating on her soup.
His smile was bittersweet. "I just wanted to say that, I hope you and Ro ... well, work out a lot better than you and I did. I wish you all the best."
She stopped her motion, her spoon midway between her soup and her mouth, staring at him in astonishment. "What?"
He flushed, his fair skin glowing ruddy. "I know that we had a lot of problems," he said, his pale blue eyes intent and sincere. "And that I caused a lot of them ... I wanted to you to know that I feel badly about that. I think you and Ro make a really good couple and I suspect you'll be a lot happier with her than you ever were with me. No matter what else has gone on, I do want you to be happy, B'Elanna."
She took a deep breath, trying to absorb this as she lowered her utensil back to the bowl. "Well, maybe it wasn't all your fault," she allowed grudgingly after a few moments. She toyed with her spoon uncomfortably. "The truth is, I'm not the easiest person to be with." She paused. "I know that when I was with you, I tried too hard to be something I wasn't. That wasn't fair to either of us."
He sighed sadly. "I never meant to make you into something you weren't, B'Elanna. I'm sorry if you felt you couldn't be yourself with me."
She reached over and covered his hand with her own. "Tom, it was my choice. I wanted to blame you at the time, but honestly, it was my own doing. It's up to me to find my own path ... not let myself think other people have better ones for me to follow." She managed a brief smile. "It wasn't all bad times, you know. There were some good ones, too and maybe in the end, it was just a matter of it being a relationship that happened at the wrong time in our lives." 
He nodded. "Maybe you're right." He hesitated. "Yet, I look at Harry and I see all he has now, with Megan and his son, and I think, you and I could have had that. If only I had tried harder, had been a little more attentive, had known what really mattered the most." He paused, obviously looking for the right words. "I know that what I did with Jennifer hurt you deeply and I regret that. But I've also come to understand that you might have been able to forgive it if only I hadn't done so many other stupid things in our relationship. All those obsessions with cars and ships, the way I always took you for granted, the times when you needed me and I wasn't there for you ... all that gave you nothing to believe in when I screwed up for the last time. You had nothing to fall back on when you searched for a reason to give me a second chance. You could only find that I had used up countless second chances already." His eyes met hers. "I'm sorry," he added simply.
She nodded, not knowing if she entirely agreed with his assessment of the situation, but not prepared to argue about it, either. "I am, too," she said. She took a breath. "I wish you all the best, too, Tom. I really hope you find someone who can love all the things you love, so maybe the two of you can share in them rather than feel left out by them."
"Maybe I'll get that lucky," he said, regarding her with an expression of mingled regret and tenderness. "Take care of yourself, B'Elanna. Be happy. And maybe one day, we'll even be able to be friends again."
She smiled faintly. "Maybe," she allowed. She looked down at her unfinished soup. "I have to go. I have duty now."
She scooped up her tray and carried it over to the disposal slot, dumping it all into the recycling unit where everything would be broken down into its component elements and reused as needed. Then she exited the messhall, feeling a trifle confused by the conversation and wondering what had possessed the helmsman to approach her like that. Of course, she allowed to herself, maybe she was finally at a place where he could, and somehow he recognized that. After all, before there would have been a good chance of his getting a slap across the head if he said something that triggered her contrary nature.
Shaking her head, she crossed her arms over her chest and waited for the turbolift to carry her down to engineering, interrupting the descent when a call came in for her from the bridge.