Just Between Give & Take
G. L. Dartt
Captain Kathryn Janeway of USS Voyager opened her eyes, the bedroom dim in the depth of night watch. A quick glance at the chronometer above her head revealed that it was 0300 hours, early morning and well into the gamma shift. She should still be asleep. The compact woman sighed softly, stretching slightly. Beside her, the warm, lanky form of her spouse, Seven of Nine, slumbered peacefully, her respiration slow and deep, a most welcome sound to the Starfleet captain who knew what it indicated. Carefully, Janeway rolled over and pressed herself against her spouse, resting her head on the young woman's shoulder.
Seven stirred and embraced Janeway with her left arm, tucking the smaller woman up under her chin in an automatic response, but she did not wake and the captain smiled faintly as she listened to the easy, regular heartbeat beneath her ear. Finally, it seemed that Seven was able to sleep through the night. For far too many evenings in the recent past, that had been something tragically beyond the young woman's reach.
A month or so earlier, Seven had believed that she had found her mother, embracing the fact that she now had a blood relative on the ship ... only for the entire encounter to have turned out to be nothing more than a hurtful, if unintentionally malicious deception by an alien seeking refuge on Voyager. The deep pain and betrayal it had caused in the young woman still lingered, and Seven had spent many nights on the couch, staring out at the passing stars, seeking some form of peace, some sense of closure to the perceived betrayal. More often than not, Janeway had joined her in an effort to share in her partner's restlessness. The lack of sleep had grown progressively harder on the captain's mood, though she had done her utmost to control it, particularly in the presence of her spouse. But the rest of her crew were feeling it in the form of Janeway's increased lack of patience with incidents that she would have otherwise taken in stride. This new development in Seven's sleep patterns gave the captain cause for optimism.
Or perhaps it was what had happened two days earlier that directly contributed to her more positive mood.
Janeway stared into the night, watching the shadows play over the bulkhead across the room, cast by the stars passing by the large window above the head of the bed. The communique Voyager had received from Lt. Reginald Barclay of Starfleet Command still remained fresh and keenly sharp in her mind, every word, although distorted by distance and space, etched indelibly in her memory. Somehow, Earth had found a way to reach out to them and even if it was only a brief contact, there was a definite promise of more to come thanks to the specs that had been sent to reinitialize Voyager's communications array. The incident had completely electrified the ship, an atmosphere of great excitement and enthusiasm sweeping over the crew. Certainly, it had served to make Janeway feel less isolated. She understood intellectually, of course, that it had not closed the distance even one light-year between the ship and the Federation, but suddenly, all that space was meaningless, bridged by those few words from Lt. Barclay and Admiral Owen Paris.
The thought of her mother, Gretchen Janeway, crossed the captain's mind and she stifled a rueful sigh. Along with the ship's logs, Voyager had sent back any and all personal messages that the crew had stored in the computer for just this sort of opportunity, including several letters that she and Seven had written over recent months, addressed to Gretchen, and Kathryn's sister, Phoebe. The captain did not regret Harry Kim's initiative in sending that packet attached to the logs, but she fretted over what might be included in her own letters. It occurred to Janeway, that deep down, she had not anticipated ever having the chance to send the personal missives, and that her 'Letters to Home' had become more like a private diary rather than anything truly intended for her family's eyes. Knowing that she had touched on emotions and deeply personal thoughts while writing them, Janeway wished she could have had more time to do some editing before her mother had the opportunity to see them. What had she been thinking?
"Kathryn?"
Seven voice was slurred, but her arm tightened about the captain, pulling her closer.
"Sorry, darling," Janeway murmured with true regret, raising her head a little to kiss Seven's neck. "I didn't mean to wake you. Especially now, after all you've been through. You need your sleep."
"So do you." Seven nuzzled the captain's auburn hair. "What keeps you awake, my Kathryn?"
"The same thing as last night and the night before," Janeway admitted. "The knowledge that we're no longer so alone out here."
Seven made the faint sound in her throat, which Janeway had learned to recognize as amusement. "Considering how many times we have been attacked by everyone from the Hirogen to the Borg, I do not understand where you acquired this idea that we are 'alone' in the Delta Quadrant."
Janeway chuckled throatily, pleasantly surprised by the humor, and poked Seven gently in the stomach with her thumb. "You know what I mean." She sighed. "For the first time in six years, I feel like the end is in sight."
"The 'end'?"
"Home, Annika ... with all that entails. Even though we're still twenty years away, regular communication with Starfleet changes everything. We've gone from being 'lost' to simply being on the last leg of a long-term, deep-space mission."
"Yet, the distance between us and the Alpha Quadrant remains the same." Seven's tone was slightly puzzled. "I do not believe things will change so dramatically."
"Perhaps logically," Janeway admitted, "they shouldn't. After all, it's not as if we can call for help if we get into trouble. But, being in regular contact with Starfleet, able to exchange information and send in reports just as we would in the Alpha Quadrant, will change things, darling. The crew, in particular, will start thinking about the future in more concrete terms, about their careers and what it means to be a Starfleet crew serving in the Delta Quadrant as opposed to merely a group of people thrown together by circumstance, trying to get home."
She stroked Seven's upper chest idly, her fingertips light on the smooth skin. "Hell," she added quietly. "I might even start receiving orders again."
Seven stiffened next to her. "Indeed?"
Frowning, Janeway raised her head. "What's wrong?"
Seven was silent for long moments. "Has it occurred to you that I am Borg and will be treated as such by Starfleet Command? They may order you to confine me to the brig."
Janeway hugged her reassuringly. "Darling, that won't happen," she said, wondering why her partner had developed such a concern. "You're no longer a part of the Collective and besides, you're also my spouse."
"I do not think that will make a difference," Seven noted pessimistically.
"Of course it will," Janeway assured her. "Don't forget, when you, Chakotay and B'Elanna returned to the Alpha Quadrant for that brief period of time two years ago, you weren't treated as an enemy, then."
"Because the Federation was fully involved in a war with the Dominion. We do not even know yet how that was resolved, if indeed, it was."
"I'm sure it was," Janeway allowed, dismissing Seven's concern until they actually had more information, knowing such speculation would be futile. "Honestly, of all the things to think about regarding this communication, this is the last thing we should worry about, Annika. Please, don't give this a second thought." She smiled gently. "That's an order."
"Very well," Seven said quietly. She drew her fingertips down Janeway's spine, her face lost in internal musing, and then she blinked, smiling at her spouse. "I know that you are very pleased with this," she added in a more indulgent tone. "You have been quite energetic in the past two days."
"Probably why I can't sleep. Maybe I should get up and take a run around the ship. Tire myself out."
Seven took the captain's hand in her own and raised it to her lips, kissing the palm lingeringly. "Surely, you can think of another way to 'tire yourself out'."
Janeway's breath caught as the warm tingle shot along her nerve endings. The intimate implication in Seven's voice had been absent for far too long and it hinted that perhaps the young woman was truly recovering from the harsh blow she had received during the incident with the 'Mimic'. Seven would never fully return to the complete innocence she had once displayed, of course, and shadows still drifted across the pale eyes on occasion, but overall, the young woman had become stronger with every passing day. Now it seemed, she was ready to take yet another step, to resume more normalcy in her disrupted life, and the captain couldn't be more happy about it.
"I suppose I could," the captain admitted, her tone dropping to a husky trill. "Or did you have something specific in mind?"
"I believe you know what I have in mind," Seven told her, pulling her closer.
Ah, the resiliency of youth, Janeway thought as she felt Seven kiss along her jaw. Wasn't it wonderful?
Of course, what was most wonderful was her partner's obvious intent, the Borg's hands starting to roam over the captain's body, stroking her with familiar caresses and touches, knowing just where and how to arouse Janeway. The captain raised her face, Seven's lips covering hers in one of those achingly sweet, toe-curling, completely absorbing kisses that left the older woman absolutely breathless. Lately, Seven had been someone whom Janeway had needed to take care of, and while the captain did not regret one micro-second of the support and comfort she had provided her partner, there was also a part of her that now delighted in being held by her lover, of being desired and able to return that desire without reservation. Of being an equal and not the caretaker of her spouse.
"I have missed loving you, Kathryn," Seven whispered as she caressed her languidly. "I have missed holding you and touching you and needing you and wanting you."
"I've missed all that as well," Janeway admitted honestly, inhaling sharply as Seven covered her breast with a questing hand, kneading it tenderly, before moving over to the other to pay it equal attention. "You don't know how much."
"I regret that I allowed the incident with the alien to disrupt our togetherness to such an extent," Seven continued in a murmur, her mouth moving over Janeway with rising passion. "No longer."
"You needed to recover in your own way, darling," Janeway assured her, arching into the Borg's caresses. "That's to ... mmm ... be expected."
"I love you, Kathryn," Seven promised, between each shattering, sensual kiss. "I will never ... neglect you ... like this again."
Janeway felt dizzy, responding to her partner's ardor with all her senses. "I never felt ... neglected, my darling." She laughed huskily. "And I certainly ... ah ... don't feel neglected now."
"Still, I am sorry that I have needed to take so much from you lately." Seven eased Janeway over onto her back. "While giving so little to you in return."
"Don't be ... sorry, love," Janeway ran her hands over Seven's neck and shoulders, tangling in the long, blonde hair. Her breath was coming in gasps now, the pleasure rising with almost overpowering demand after so long. "That's what marriage ... oh ... is all about."
"Marriage is best when it is an equitable experience," Seven corrected quietly, reaching the juncture of her partner's legs, stroking luxuriously with fingers that touched deeply in the heat and wetness. "Tonight, we shall give and take in equal measure."
"Yes," Janeway agreed reverently, before ceasing all speech ... at least, all coherent speech. Seven was forceful, yet gentle, claiming her love for Janeway with firm command, leaving little doubt about how much she liked giving pleasure to her partner. Later, she took from Janeway joyfully, demanding, clinging to the smaller woman as she shuddered from pulsations which possessed her for long seconds before finally easing.
Afterward, they lay together in a sweet and sweaty tangle, Seven behind Janeway, knees tucked up under hers, her body pleasing and warm against her back. Janeway was very aware of Seven continuing to hold her intimately, palm cupping the captain's mound possessively. She smiled and reached down, covering Seven's hand with her own.
"Keeping it warm for me?"
"Keeping in contact," Seven told her with gentle humor. She squeezed gently, her middle finger pressing deliciously against Janeway's moist and still sensitive flesh, making the captain twitch in involuntary response to the stimulation. "So I know where it is in the event I wish to access it again."
Janeway laughed. "As if you ever had trouble accessing it."
Seven nipped at the captain's earlobe playfully. "Recently perhaps, but no longer." She squeezed again, enticingly, pressing her body against the captain's. "Indeed, I believe I should access it now."
Janeway quirked an eyebrow.
"Oh, my. Would it do any good to say, 'Access denied'?"
"No. Resistance is futile."
Janeway just laughed again, joyfully, and willingly surrendered to her partner, feeling as if all the universe was aligning in her favor. Finally.
Sickbay was quiet and the small, slender form of Sek, Voyager's Emergency Holographic Medical Assistant, worked intently at her work station. Activated only a year and a half earlier, Sek's holographic matrix had been programmed from a combination of crew profiles, most notably that of Kes, the Ocampa. During her time on Voyager, Kes had developed significant mental abilities and evolved into a higher lifeform, leaving the ship when it appeared that her transformation would damage it. As her final gift to the crew, she boosted the Federation starship 10,000 light-years closer to the Alpha Quadrant, allowing them to clear Borg space and unquestionably saving them from inevitable assimilation.
Approximately a year later, the Doctor had lobbied for an assistant, one whose help would be crucial in a particularly tricky surgery he was going to perform. Working feverishly, he, the captain, Lt. Harry Kim and Lt. B'Elanna Torres had created the hologram in one night, utilizing Kes's personal profile because of the Ocampa's medical knowledge. The result was an EHMA in the shape and form of the young woman, who could learn and theoretically achieve sentience, just as the Doctor had.
In the beginning, Sek had made an effort to distance herself from her namesake, going so far as to alter her appearance both in height and coloration, in addition to reversing the name. But recently, over a period of a few months, she had gradually returned to her original appearance until finally, once again, she looked very much as the diminutive Kes had appeared, blonde with elven ears and warm blue eyes. No one had seemed to notice, or at least made any comment about it to her. If pressed, she couldn't explain why she had felt the need to return to what she looked like when she had started out, but she did allow that perhaps as she grew into her own person, appearance had become less of a sore spot for her.
She scanned the text from the console in front of her, filing it in her memory. Of course, as a hologram tied into the ship's systems, she could access any part of the computer database in an instant. But part of the uniqueness of Voyager's medical holograms, was the ability to leave the ship's holo-emitters behind by utilizing tiny, portable ones. Both she and the Doctor could download their programs into small devices constructed from 29th Century technology, which allowed them to not only leave sickbay, but the ship itself. However, if she wanted to act on the information she was downloading in the future and learn from it as well, she had to 'memorize' it, make it a part of herself, just as regular Humans did when they were taught. She was much faster of course, but it still took more time than simply accessing the database would be. Plus, since the storage capacity of the portable emitters was limited, she needed to pick and choose carefully what she could file within her, thus requiring her to 'learn' from the information rather than simply storing it.
Learning and retaining what she learned had become very important because her ultimate goal was to become the ship's counselor.
Originally, the Doctor had been against it, citing his own failed attempt at incorporating psychiatric sub-routines into his holo-matrix. Sek had pointed out that she was going to learn how to be a ship's counselor the old fashioned way, via a two-stage program of study and hands-on practice under the supervision of certain master psychologists in the holodeck. She was not going to attempt any 'shortcuts' as he had tried. She had carefully researched and created a curriculum for herself and presented it to the captain, laying out the necessity for it.
Janeway, in contrast, had required little convincing. The captain had just spent a difficult time trying to assist a crewmember who had lost her baby in the eight month of her pregnancy, and Janeway was more than glad to have another resource created for any future incidents requiring emotional counseling. The captain overruled the Doctor's objections and granted Sek permission to pursue her studies. Now, only a few months later, Sek was already into the second phase. She was excited by it, and frightened as well, wondering if perhaps it would have been better if she had been programmed without emotions. Yet, she also knew it was the compassion and empathy that Kes had possessed ... passed on to her in liberal amounts ... that would make it possible for her to be a true ship's counselor as opposed to just a simulation of one. Just as the Doctor, in evolving his emotions and subconscious, had evolved into a real medical practitioner rather than just an Emergency Medical Hologram.
Sek looked up as the door to sickbay slid open and Seven of Nine entered. The hologram thought the Borg looked a little disturbed, totally unlike her normal, self-assured self. But then, perhaps that was to be expected after all the young woman had been through lately. Sek frowned and stood up, leaving the office to meet the statuesque blonde.
"Seven?" she asked gently. "May I help you?"
Seven regarded her with that direct, no nonsense stare. "I have been experiencing a certain emotional upheaval recently, as you are aware. That has intensified with the communication from Starfleet. I feel the need to address this immediately in order to resolve it before more time has passed and it continues to disrupt the functioning of my role on the ship."
Sek tilted her head. "Indeed?" she prompted curiously, not quite understanding what Seven was talking about. "And how do you think I can assist?"
"I understand that you are studying to become a ship's counselor," Seven said with her characteristic honesty. "Because of that, perhaps you could be more efficient in assisting me in what is obviously a psychological disturbance rather than a physical one; one I am unable to come to terms with on my own. Also, because you are an objective party, I will no longer have to distract the captain with it."
Sek was rocked and actually stepped back a pace. "Seven," she said, striving for calmness, "the operative word here is 'studying' to be a ship's counselor. I've just started phase two of my education. I don't actually have leave to practice yet."
Seven raised an eyebrow. "Are you refusing to help me?"
Sek opened her mouth to respond, hesitated and reconsidered. The first rule of medicine was: do no harm. Yet, it was clear that Seven needed something ... just the young woman coming to sickbay was significant in itself. And the fact was, if the Borg had come to her about this, perhaps others in the crew were also reacting to the communication from Starfleet in ways that were not readily apparent, yet could also be damaging. It occurred to Sek that perhaps she no longer had the luxury of time. She had to seriously consider what harm
not offering her help might do.
The hologram inhaled slowly, though she really had no need to breathe at all. "Can I think about this? Maybe consult with a few others before I give you a definite answer? I promise, I won't say why I need the advice, just what kind I need."
Seven frowned faintly. "How long would you require?"
Sek rubbed her temples. "About a year," she muttered. Unlike Kes, Sek also possessed a healthy dose of sarcastic wit, undoubtedly from the contribution to her personality matrix provided by both the Doctor and B'Elanna. She supposed that small portion of cynicism granted her a certain balance that Kes had lacked ... at least, she hoped it did. It wasn't as if she could get rid of it.
"I think I can find all my answers by the end of my shift," she added in a clearer voice. "I'll get back to you by this afternoon."
"That is acceptable." Seven paused. "Thank you."
Sek reached out and patted her on the arm. "Don't thank me yet. I haven't done anything."
"Nonetheless, the knowledge that you will try is acceptable." Seven nodded briefly and abruptly left.
Sek stared after her, curious as to why Seven didn't feel comfortable speaking with the captain about this. Then, she returned to the office and shut down her workstation, adding a note to the Doctor that she would be out for a while. He was currently in a dormant mode, 'resting' as he called it, and since she could transport back to sickbay instantly, it was not required that she remain to cover the area.
She picked up the small, triangular device that was kept in a very secure area in the office and strapped it to her arm, activating it with a touch. There was a slight disorientation, almost a sense of being compressed and reformatted, then it was gone, leaving her feeling much as she had before, only somewhat ... less. It was hard to explain, but she was keenly aware every time she put it on that she was no longer linked to the ship, no longer had the access to all the vast knowledge in the databanks. She felt ... less intelligent. She wondered if only she felt like this or if the Doctor experienced the same sense of displacement. Though, she did consider the fact, that if it was only her, it could be a functional defect of her portable emitter, which was only a copy of the original rather than actual 29th century technology.
Yet without it, she would have no freedom of movement. That in itself was worth any minor sense of isolation and lessened access to Voyager's computer core.
Her first stop after leaving sickbay was holodeck one, which fortunately, was unoccupied at the moment. She went inside and activated her Phase II program. Immediately, the large space, a deep matte black with glowing, yellow lines in a regular grid pattern, altered to an airy room bordered by looming windows through which, the breeze of Rissa entered, along with the soft calls of birds. Sitting at a table, three figures regarded her expectantly.
They were the triumvirate of masters, one Klingon, one Vulcan and one Human. Learning the psychology of one species inevitably assisted in granting deep insights into that of the other two, and ironically enough, most other alien species the Federation encountered. It was as if the three distinct species of intellect, emotion and physicality made the perfect balance for psychology to be studied. Certainly, between the three, every possible path that could be taken by an intelligent species had been.
The rangy Klingon on the right was Healer Karn, a most respected scholar in a culture of warriors. The proud ridges of his shaggy head protected a large braincase, and his dark eyes glittered with intelligence and no little humor. In the center, Dr. T'Var, a slender, darkly attractive Vulcan female who had literally written the book on understanding the stoic people ... which so few people wished to read because of its uncomfortable and unswerving truths about emotion and logic ... sat with complete composure. The third man, a bearded Human named Dr. David Sylvan, was one of the penultimate psychologists and teachers in history. By the time of his death some ten years earlier, he had completely revolutionized Starfleet Medical, implementing the entire concept of ship's counselors, and had also instituted the inclusion of families on vessels pursuing deep-space missions.
This triad acted as her supervisors in the second phase of her learning, and it was these three who would best know the correct course of action to take regarding Seven's request. Sek quietly laid it out for them and waited for their response. They would frequently argue amongst themselves for a certain period of time, which she always found far more enlightening than if they simply explained to her what they thought she should do. One advantage to programming her own mentors was that she was assured of a perfect fit for herself, though the Doctor had done the actual programming with Harry Kim.
Dr. Sylvan frowned, his snowy head shaking slightly as he considered the petition. "You realize, actual life experience is different from the simulated case studies we had decided you would experience, regardless of the fact that they would be based on real-life scenarios. This could lead to most unexpected consequences."
Karn spread his hands. "The child would have to start one day on real people," he objected, his voice a deep rumble. "Certainly in my day, we didn't have all this holographic nonsense. You always had to use actual case studies."
T'Var inclined her head elegantly. "I concur," she said in a finely modulated tone. "Reality-based case studies have always been used with junior psychologists at this stage, the more difficult, the better."
Sylvan regarded the other two. "That's the problem. Extreme cases are always more easy to handle than those of this apparent simplicity. One looks at it and says, 'help this crewmember deal with returning to a home that may have changed considerably.' That could result in far more difficulty than a junior should be facing at this stage."
"But Sek must face difficult cases sooner or later," Karn retorted, thumping his fist onto the desk. "I say, make it sooner. It is best to separate the weak from the strong before too much time is wasted on them."
T'Var quirked an eyebrow. "Emotionally stated, but logical. We must also take into account that this patient may only be the first of many. After all, this was a communiqué only, not a concrete way to return Voyager to the Alpha Quadrant. Others may have more difficulty dealing with the distance now than when there was a sense of being completely isolated from the Federation."
Sylvan nodded thoughtfully. "A good point. Should we allow our fears of possible consequences cause harm to the crewmembers of this vessel?"
"Can we do any further harm by offering assistance?" T'Var remarked pointedly.
"We shall keep a close eye to make sure that doesn't happen," Karn noted. "That is why we exist."
Sylvan looked back at Sek. "Agreed. I recommend you accept the case and prepare yourself for others."
"I too, recommend it," T'Var noted.
Karn thumped his fist on the table once more. "Yes," he thundered. "Go! Succeed! Quit wasting our time."
"Thank you," Sek replied politely and took her leave.
The comments of her masters did not necessarily quell the uncertainty residing within her, but there was also an anticipation rising at encountering a real case. There was also the fact that she genuinely liked Seven. If she could somehow help the Borg find enough peace with the future, to be able to embrace the eventual return to the Alpha Quadrant rather than be anxious about it, then Sek would have accomplished something both personally and professionally satisfying.
Sek remembered once telling the captain, when her very existence had been on the line, that unlike a living being, she did not strive to be more than what she was ... that she was content to be a Medical Assistant and nothing beyond. As she was allowed to evolve, that limitation changed and there developed within her a passionate desire to do all she could to help the crew of Voyager. At first, she had thought that had meant becoming another doctor, but after dealing with all the new mothers who had come through sickbay and realizing that most of what she was doing to help them was primarily listening and talking with them, she began to consider psychology. Then the incident with Ensign White occurred and Sek had been helpless, not knowing what to say or do to help the young woman come to terms with her loss. The hologram was prompted to begin researching counseling techniques and very quickly, she realized she had found her true calling.
It just felt so right in every aspect. She believed that somehow, fate had decreed that this was the real reason she had been created from light waves and isometric projections.
She touched her comm badge. "Sek to Captain Janeway."
"Janeway here," came the immediate response.
"Captain, I need to speak with you," Sek requested. "Would it be possible to confer with you this morning?"
Janeway hesitated, probably going over her schedule for the day.
"Not this morning," the captain remarked finally. "Why not stop by my ready room immediately after lunch? I can see you then. 0100 hours."
"Thank you, Captain. That would be fine." She cut the communication and headed for sickbay.
If this turned out as she hoped, she would have need of a counselor's office and it would be helpful to see how quickly Maintenance could construct one.
Captain Janeway meticulously filed the last departmental report into her console and wondered if she would have this much busywork if she were back in the Alpha Quadrant? She decided that she would, she just probably wouldn't be granting it this much personal attention, though she was aware that her commitment to the routine paperwork faced by Starfleet captains was merely a symptom of her hanging onto a sense of normalcy out here in the Delta Quadrant. Striving to have every file finished and properly submitted for Starfleet granted her a sense of being in control. Indeed, it was a matter of considerable pride to her that the logs Voyager transmitted back to the Federation had included every report required, complete to that very stardate. It would go a long way in showing that she had adhered to exacting standards as the ship returned home.
Since that communication, the Federation and Earth seemed to be closer than ever before. Though it might not make sense, she had a gut feeling that they would be returning soon, even as she allowed that it might just be the leftover euphoria of hearing directly from Starfleet Command.
There was also the knowledge that having everything shipshape might turn out to be important in the event that Starfleet Command took a long, hard look at any incidents where she hadn't been able to go by the book. She always remembered what Boothby had told her while she had been at the Academy. That one day, she would have to defy orders or go against protocol ... every commander did ... but the only way she would be able to justify it was to show that in all other ways, she had been the complete Starfleet officer. She could almost see him now, the San Francisco sunshine streaming down on the carefully manicured lawns of Starfleet Academy, the gnarled figure of the elderly man bent over his flower beds.
"Katie, always make sure you do the little things correct," he said, as he dug into the rich earth lining the pebbled path. "And you'll get away with screwing around with the big things every time. Otherwise, you won't have a leg to stand on when you're justifying a command decision to a Board of Inquiry." He looked up briefly, his pale blue eyes keen in the leathery face as he waved his trowel for emphasis. "Your adherence to duty in the past has to be as immaculate as possible, because there will come a day when that's all you'll have left to offer in defense."
She had taken that lesson to heart and hoped that her attention to protocol on Voyager would be enough to see her through to any board that might question her actions in the Delta Quadrant. She grinned with wry humor. In fact, it might be the only thing that could save her in the end, considering some of the things she had done out here in the final frontier. She wondered if any of them had been what Boothby had in mind?
She lifted her eyes as the chime to her door sounded. "Enter." A quick check of the chronometer told her who it should be and she was unsurprised when the tall, slender figure of Lt. Ro Laren entered the ready room.
The Bajoran woman was in her mid-thirties, tempered like a blade in the most searing of heat, her eyes dark and shuttered, hiding her personality from casual inspection. But if one dared to look very close, one could see the fire that burned within and Janeway was always aware that she had to handle this officer with care. For a great many people, she wouldn't bother, but the potential in the woman was not the sort of thing that Janeway liked to see wasted, particularly out here in the Delta Quadrant where they couldn't afford to discard anything.
Of course, she recognized that she was not the first Starfleet captain to think Ro Laren had promise. Jean-Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise had made the Bajoran a personal project and must have considered that project a failure when she deserted Starfleet to join the Maquis. Janeway had no intention of repeating his mistakes, either by taking Ro's loyalty for granted, or by trying to push her before she was ready. The captain also hoped that the older, more experienced lieutenant would be easier to reach than the young, hot-headed ensign revealed in the Bajoran's personnel records.
"Lieutenant," Janeway said, standing up. "Please, join me."
She skirted the desk and crossed in front of the younger woman, mounting the short flight of stairs and going to the sofa set beneath looming windows. The passing stars, distorted by the warp field, made an imposing backdrop as the captain took a seat.
"Would you like some tea?" she added, picking up the elegantly appointed teapot. "Or perhaps, coffee?"
"No, thank you, Captain," Ro responded shortly, linking her hands behind her back.
"Please, sit down," Janeway said, in an even tone that made it an order rather than a request. She replaced the teapot and picked up the silvery cylinder that was also sitting on the sterling tray.
Ro blinked, and inclined her head, sitting down in the chair that was offset to the sofa. She remained forward in the seat, hands folded neatly on her lap, body tense as if ready to take flight at an instant's notice.
Janeway stifled a smile and poured herself some coffee from her thermos. Leaning back against the sofa cushions, she sipped it quietly, waiting. Sure enough, after a moment, Ro began to twitch slightly.
"Captain?"
"Yes, Lieutenant?" Janeway responded politely.
"Did you wish to see me about something specific?"
Janeway gave every indication of considering the question carefully. "Actually, I did, but I'm also taking a moment to appreciate my coffee. Seven's version is quite remarkable. When I drink it, I always am keenly aware of the first five years when I had to live with the replicator issue or worse, Neelix's version."
Ro regarded her evenly, and almost, but not quite, sighed. "Permission to ask if this has a point, ma'am?"
Janeway smiled. "Just the fact that nothing remains the same, and very often, circumstances can improve if the right set of circumstances fall into place." She eyed Ro narrowly. "What about you, Lieutenant? Do you feel that things are falling into place with you since you revealed your true identity?"
Ro seemed vaguely surprised by the question.
"I ... believe so, Captain." She hesitated. "Certainly, you have treated me more than fairly considering ... ah, everything that's involved. I appreciate the chance you've given me to resume my role as a Starfleet officer."
"I haven't been disappointed," Janeway said quietly. "Which is why I think it's time that things progressed a little."
"Captain?"
"I want to transfer you to operations. Place you on the track for an eventual command of your own."
Whatever Ro had been expecting, it hadn't been this and the captain could see that she had rocked her. The Bajoran blinked and took a slow breath.
"I'm ... surprised. Even after we spoke, I never really considered it. Not seriously."
"It's time you did," Janeway said, firming her tone. "The fact is, you've gone as far as you can in security. Obviously if things had worked out a little differently with Tuvok, you might have ended up as my chief of security. As it stands, your qualifications remain the same and as one of the few, truly experienced Starfleet senior officers I have, I can't afford to have you being monopolized by the security department any longer." She paused. "I want you to begin training under Chakotay."
Once more, Ro was shook.
"Captain?"
"Oh, don't get me wrong," Janeway said casually. "You'll probably never be Voyager's first officer, but certainly, with our return to the Alpha Quadrant becoming more likely every day, I want you to be capable of assuming the role for another captain. I believe you deserve that chance. The question is, are you ready to accept that responsibility?"
Ro stared at her for a long moment, then looked away.
"Can I think about it?" she asked coolly, though the captain thought she could pick up a bit of uncertainty underneath. "Ask Chakotay some questions about what exactly might be involved?"
Janeway had expected that. Unlike a lot of less experienced crewmembers who would jump at the promotion before knowing all that came with it, Ro would find out as much as she could before she made her decision. It was a mark of a good officer at this stage of Ro's career and had she not made the request, Janeway would not only have been surprised, but a little disappointed in Ro's awareness of what was being asked of her.
"Of course. I'll also be glad to answer any questions you might have. But I don't want to be too long about this change in crew structure. I expect a response by this time next week."
"Understood, Captain," Ro said respectfully. She stood up. "If that's all?"
Janeway dipped her head. "Dismissed." Her eyes followed Ro's graceful form as she strode briskly from the ready room as she sipped her coffee. She wasn't sure how things would work out with the rigidly controlled, yet volatile, woman, but she hoped that she would be able to guide her to a better path, just as she had guided so many others.
Your problem, Katie, is that you always need a project, her little voice remarked ruefully. First Tom, then B'Elanna, then Seven and now Ro. You just like meddling in other people's lives.
Janeway couldn't deny it. In fact, there was a certain part of her that took pride in it, believing it to be a crucial part of being a good Starfleet captain. It wasn't enough to merely lead, she decided, she wanted to make a real difference, even if that meant getting involved personally with crewmembers. She did have the presence of mind to realize that she had been fortunate in her past successes so far. Tom Paris, a bitter convict drafted into helping Starfleet go after his Maquis conspirators, had recaptured his self-esteem and pride in his capabilities as a Starfleet officer. B'Elanna Torres, a Starfleet Academy dropout and adrift soul, had blossomed as chief of engineering under Janeway's command, able to finally challenge and test her vast talents to the ultimate limit. And Seven ... well, truthfully Seven had turned out to be far more than even the captain had expected. In the end, she had taught Janeway far more about her own Humanity than what the captain had hoped to teach her.
Janeway smiled faintly to herself, trusting that Ro would prove an equal success. Janeway relied absolutely on her instincts when it came to judging character, and they had never let her down. She didn't think that it was possible for a person to change into something they simply weren't, but if an individual already had the internal foundation, then any positive character traits could be nurtured into blossoming, overcoming any negative experiences that might have served to repress an individual's potential.
Swallowing the last of her coffee, Janeway stood up and carried her dirty cup over to the replicator which dematerialized it and returned it, bright and spotless. She placed the now clean china on the sterling silver tray and returned to the lower level, resuming the next round of paperwork until lunch interrupted her. The next scheduled appointment was immediately after her lunch break and she wiped her mouth with a napkin as she heard the soft chime from her door.
"Come in," she said, carrying her dirty dishes to the recycler and depositing them inside.
She turned around to greet Sek and it struck her suddenly, how much the hologram was once more looking like Kes. She hadn't even noticed the gradual alteration in the young female's appearance until now and she was puzzled as to why she hadn't.
"Sek, please, have a seat," she said, gesturing to the chair. "What can I do for you?"
The diminutive hologram politely took a seat in the chair where Ro had sat hours earlier, folding her hands in her lap in a similar fashion to the Bajoran. But unlike Ro's rigid body language, Sek was relaxed, leaning back against the cushions, patient in her attention to the captain. Janeway knew she would never be able to make the hologram twitch the way she could Ro and she smiled secretly to herself as she sat down on the sofa.
"Captain, I am here regarding Phase II of my studies," Sek remarked in her melodic voice. "At this stage, I would be participating in several case studies under the supervision of my mentor master psychologists."
"I see," Janeway said, nodding as she gave the young woman her full attention. She had gone over the various stages of Sek's curriculum with the Doctor, making sure that there would be no repeat of the incident he had been involved in. "You're progressing very quickly. I'm quite pleased."
"Thank you, Captain. As you know, were this the Alpha Quadrant, I would be using live case studies and it was only decided to go with the simulated option here on Voyager, because of the lack of viable patients."
Janeway eyed her keenly, studying the hologram's face. "That's changed."
Sek nodded. "A crewmember came to me today, requesting my services in a professional capacity." She paused, and Janeway wondered if she was searching for the best way to say what she had to say. "While it is a case that could be delayed for a month until I complete Phase II, there is also the possibility that it might do harm to the patient by making them wait. I'm also aware that the crew has been sharply reminded of home, yet we are really no closer to the Federation than we were before we received the communication. That is bound to start sinking in, with all the natural repercussions. I would like to be available to the crew when that happens in a full counselor capacity. I conferred with the masters, and they agreed that I should accept this case. But I would require your permission to accelerate my training in this manner."
"I see," Janeway said, leaning back against the cushions as she considered this seriously. "I would also need to clear this with the Doctor who is your immediate supervisor. Who's the crewmember?"
Sek stared at her unflinchingly. "I can't tell you that, Captain. It's a matter of the Doctor/Patient confidentiality that I will not violate in this instance."
Janeway returned the stare, wondering if it had been Ensign White who had requested Sek's help. But she acknowledged that Sek was well within her prerogative not to tell her, since the captain really didn't have the right to know unless a threat of some kind was posed, either to another crewmember or to the ship itself. She would just have to content herself with private speculation.
"Very well," she allowed graciously. She tapped her comm badge. "Janeway to sickbay. Doctor, I require your presence in my ready room immediately."
"On my way," came the immediate and brief response.
Janeway had barely closed the channel before the Doctor abruptly materialized in the room, his sparse, trim figure appearing in a haze of sparkles.
"Please state the nature of the medical emergency." Janeway realized that she should have mentioned this was an administrative request and not a medical one. He would have used the traditional method of walking to her ready room then, rather than use an emergency site-to-site transport.
She held up a hand, calming him. "It's about Sek's progress to become our ship's counselor. I need to consult with you about it." She explained the circumstances to him and he listened closely. She knew he had been against this in the beginning, but had since come to support Sek's intent. Janeway believed he would be able to give a fair and unbiased opinion. The care and well-being of the ship's crew was of primary importance to his programming ... as it was in Sek's matrix.
"I don't see any problem, Captain," he decided finally. "As Sek said, if this were the Alpha Quadrant, she would be dealing with real patients under the supervision of her mentors. This is really no different. If someone has asked for her assistance, it's obviously because they truly require it. It's hard to ask for such help."
Janeway nodded. "Fine, I'm more than willing to accede to your expertise on this." She smiled warmly at Sek. "Go ahead with your patient. I'll log my authorization immediately."
"Thank you, Captain," Sek responded. "I'll inform the crewmember in question and with any luck, we'll be able to hold an opening session this afternoon."
B'Elanna Torres, chief engineer of Voyager and its only Klingon crewmember, raked her fingers through her dark, wavy hair as she returned to her living quarters on deck nine. It had been a busy day in engineering and she was looking forward to having something to eat and settling in for the evening. Perhaps, she would even utilize some of her hard-earned replicator rations and have dinner in, rather than make the journey to the messhall. The room was dimly illuminated as she entered and she didn't bother to bring the lights up, able to easily navigate her way about the familiar surroundings.
She peeled off her uniform tunic and tossed it onto the bed, along with her sweater, leaving her in a brief tank top, her muscular arms bare as she strolled into the ensuite to wash her hands and face. The door chime greeted her as she finished and B'Elanna stifled a sigh as she went to answer it.
Ro Laren stood in the entrance and with a wordless gesture, B'Elanna motioned the Bajoran in. The two women were involved in a romantic relationship, one that had hit a snag in recent weeks. Lately, the pair had been carefully and somewhat painfully rebuilding a functioning interaction. The ease with which they had once talked to each other had been lost, but both women desperately wanted to rediscover the passion they had shared ... or at least, B'Elanna knew she did. They continued to see each other on a regular basis, hoping that they would once more find a way back to where they had been before the incident involving Tuvok's Pon farr. They had yet to resume any intimate physical interaction.
Despite her best effort, B'Elanna had a hard time reconciling Ro mating with Tuvok. Ro, in contrast, could not really understand the Klingon's objection to what she believed was nothing more than saving someone's life. While she was regretful that B'Elanna had been hurt by it, her empathy had rapidly reached its limit. Now, they simply tried not to talk about it very much, feeling as if they had completely exhausted the topic for the entire rest of their lives. B'Elanna had avoided the Vulcan chief of security like the plague whenever possible for the past month, unable to look at him in staff meetings, feeling a burning sense of jealousy and rage whenever she thought about Ro being with him, regardless of the circumstances.
"Hi" she said, forcing back the dull anger that rose within her, knowing it was an old friend that did not need to be introduced every time the two women were together. "What's up?"
"I'm sorry to bother you," Ro said quietly. "I wanted to talk to you about something, if you have time."
B'Elanna regarded the Bajoran for a moment, then spread her hands. "Sure, have a seat."
She gestured toward the glass table in the corner and the two women settled down opposite each other. The Klingon observed the Bajoran closely, noting that Ro seemed quite tense, as if she wanted to spring to her feet and pace about the room. B'Elanna had a sudden qualm that perhaps Ro had decided that things just weren't going to work out for them after all, and was about to tell her that they'd be better off ending it.
That caused an intensely sick feeling to rise within the young woman. The thought of being without Ro was like a dagger stabbing into her heart, no matter how much she wanted to hang onto her sense of betrayal like some flawed treasure.
"The captain called me into her ready room this morning," Ro said, completely forestalling the panic attack B'Elanna was busily working on. "She wants to transfer me from security to command operations."
B'Elanna raised an eyebrow. "That's really good news," she said, managing some honest enthusiasm. Even though she had never managed to graduate from the Academy, she knew what that meant in terms of career for the Bajoran. "Are you going to accept?"
Ro frowned. "I don't know. It's a major promotion, yet at the same time, because of the situation Voyager is in, it may just be a lot more responsibility and extra duty for a pip that might not be worth the time or trouble. I mean, Janeway can grant me all the promotions she wants, but that's not to say any of it would be applicable back in the Alpha Quadrant. Hell, as it stands, I'm probably looking at a full court martial for desertion waiting for me. Plus, I like working in security ... it's what I've trained for. I'm comfortable there."
B'Elanna considered that. "So, are there any advantages?" she asked, trying it from another angle.
Ro shrugged. "The extra duty might earn enough credit with Starfleet Command to lessen their inevitable court martial charges for me. It
would be more challenging than what I'm doing now ... learning something new always is. I also owe Janeway for what she's done for me and if this is where she thinks I'll work best, then I should, at the very least, give it a try for her sake, if not mine." She leaned back in her chair, obviously forcing herself to relax, or at least, look less rigid and tense. "It means working closely with Chakotay, though."
"Chakotay's a great teacher," B'Elanna assured her. "You'll learn a lot from him."
Ro stared at her blankly for a moment, then shook her head, offering a short bark of humorless laughter. "Maybe," she said, and B'Elanna frowned, trying to figure out what the Bajoran had against Voyager's first officer.
"So," the engineer offered tentatively, "do you want to stay? We can talk about this some more over dinner."
Ro hesitated. "Do you want to pick something up in the messhall and bring it back here?"
"Let's stay in," B'Elanna suggested hopefully. "That's what I was planning before you showed up anyway. My treat."
Ro nodded. "All right." She took a breath and studied her hands on the tabletop intently.
B'Elanna moved over to the replicator, acutely aware of the awkwardness between them and regretting it profoundly. She just didn't know how to bridge it. The whole communication aspect of a relationship seemed so easy for other couples but it was extremely difficult for her, not only with this enigmatic Bajoran, but in the Klingon's previous relationships with Tom Paris and Chakotay. In fact, B'Elanna thought morosely, she was able to talk with Tom far easier now that they weren't together, than she had ever managed when they were.
She glanced back over her shoulder. "Any preferences?"
Ro shook her head mutely and B'Elanna keyed in a program for some Bajoran hasperat, knowing it was the security officer's favorite. She programmed herself some pasta prima vera and brought both plates back to the table along with two glasses of red wine. Ro glanced at her when the food was placed before her.
"Thank you," she said with sincerity and what seemed a little surprise. "It looks great."
"Well, if you do accept the promotion, then this is a bit of a celebration, isn't it?" B'Elanna said, lighting some candles to give some ambiance to the meal.
Ro tilted her head, her dark eyes going thoughtful. "I suppose it is."
B'Elanna sat down, and proceeded to pick at her pasta, neither speaking as the meal progressed. Finally, she dropped the fork on the plate and folded her hands, resting her elbows on the table.
"I hate this," she said flatly, staring at the woman across from her.
Ro looked at her, not bothering to ask what she was talking about. After all, there was only one thing that had been occupying both of their attentions lately. She toyed with her hasperat, running her fork through it.
"I know. I do, too. But I can't undo what's been done, Lanna, nor would I if I had the chance. I do wish there had been a way to accomplish it so that you could understand why it had to be done and how it has nothing to do with us. I don't know what else to say or do to make that clear to you."
B'Elanna took a breath, controlling her anger with an effort. They had gone over all this before, in varied ways and the worst part was, she fully understood what had happened as well as the need for it. She just didn't understand why she continued to be so angry about it.
"You know," Ro tried again, tentatively. "I hear Sek has become the ship's counselor and is already taking crewmembers on as patients. Maybe talking to her..."
"You think counseling is the answer?" B'Elanna responded, immediately outraged that the security officer thought so little of her mental state, as if she were the one at fault here, as if she was the one who had gone behind Ro's back and...
"Well, our talking about it isn't getting us anywhere," Ro responded evenly, interrupting the head of steam the Klingon was working herself into. The Bajoran didn't even seem aware of her companion's rising temper. "Maybe if we talked to her instead of each other, we could..."
B'Elanna held up a hand. "Wait," she said, deflating like a balloon. "You mean you want us to see her together?"
Ro stared at her blankly, obviously not understanding her objection. "Why not?"
Not for the first time, B'Elanna was reminded of the fact that she and the Bajoran approached things completely differently. That indeed, their very thought processes were completely at right angles.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly, the apology coming difficult to her. "I thought you were implying that I was the one that needed therapy."
Ro blinked. "No," she said, almost but not quite sighing. "I'm not saying that, at all. I just think we both need a little objective help if we want to find a way to work through this. Sek would be a good choice, not to mention she'd keep it completely confidential." She paused, poking at her food without appetite. "You still want us to be together, don't you? I mean, this is still worth pursuing to you, right?"
"Yeah," B'Elanna said, relief sharp within her. "It is. More than anything."
"Then maybe she can help. I mean, at this point, it certainly couldn't hurt." Ro regarded B'Elanna with dark eyes. "I know we can't go on like this. It shouldn't have to hurt this much to be in each other's company."
"It shouldn't," B'Elanna agreed, swallowing hard. "I only know that it hurts worse when I'm not with you. Being without you is like acid in a wound."
"I know," Ro allowed softly. "If there was nothing between us worth fighting for, then it would be easy to walk away. But on my part, at least, I want to see if we can figure this out. Just so we don't look back years down the road and think, 'if only'."
"I feel the same," B'Elanna said, looking at her steadily.
The moment stretched on, both women lost in the eye contact, before, with an effort, B'Elanna broke it. "So," she said briskly, resuming her meal. "Do you want me to make the appointment?"
"I will. Tomorrow after our duty shifts, all right?"
"I should be able to get away." That settled, the Klingon returned to the original discussion which had brought Ro here in the first place. "Why do you think the captain is so anxious to promote you now? Do you think she believes we'll be suddenly returning home or something?"
Ro broke a piece of bread, holding the fluffy mass in her fingers as the butter on it melted. "I don't know," she allowed, obviously giving it some thought. "Certainly, if we're going to be in steady contact with Starfleet now, the odds of us getting back in a timely fashion have improved. After all, we can send any ideas we have to them and they can work them out with resources we simply don't have, not to mention the fact that they'll probably be able to come up with ideas that we might not have considered."
"But what if they don't?" B'Elanna asked pessimistically. "What if, after all this, it still takes decades to return to the Alpha Quadrant?"
Ro eyed her sardonically as she ate her bread. "I wouldn't bring that idea with too many of the crew at the moment. No one's choosing to remember that yet."
B'Elanna exhaled. "Yeah," she said ruefully, acknowledging the point. "Everyone's really excited, as if this suddenly shortened the distance between us, rather than just pointing out how far away we still are from the Federation."
Ro dipped her head in agreement. "That euphoria won't last."
"It's going to take the same amount of time to get to the Federation that it was before the communiqué," B'Elanna pointed out. "And I think the whole crew had kind of settled into the thought of it taking years unless we had some kind of breakthrough with the slipstream drive or the transwarp coil projects. Especially after the new babies arrived. I mean, those kids were going to be adults by the time we got back to Earth on our present course. Now, the comfort zone the crew has managed has been completely disrupted and the desire to go home will be constantly present, particularly if we continue to get regular messages from the Federation."
"Discontent will set in." She took another bite of her hasperat. "What about you? You don't seem to be that excited about it one way or the other."
B'Elanna shrugged. "I guess I'm not. I mean, assuming we do get home in a timely fashion, the best case scenario has the Maquis being pardoned and me allowed to stay in Starfleet as an engineer. So that's something to go home for. But the worst case is like yours; arrest and probably imprisonment for actions I took as a member of the Maquis. I'm better off here in the Delta Quadrant."
Ro dropped her fork as if she had lost her appetite. "I hadn't thought..." She swallowed. "I knew I would probably be in trouble, but I never realized you might be at risk. I figured Janeway would turn cartwheels to keep one of the best engineers on her ship, but now that I think about it, there's really no guarantee she'll be able to keep her command, herself."
B'Elanna bowed her head. "You know, even if you and I both ended up in prison, we wouldn't be in the same one."
"No, I'd be transferred to the Starfleet facility for Bajorans, probably on Jaros II again," Ro allowed glumly. "And you would most likely be in the civilian facility on Earth."
"In New Zealand, where Paris was incarcerated. We could both be looking at years."
They sat in silence, heads bowed, then, despite herself, B'Elanna started to laugh, realizing the absurdity of worrying about something that could still be twenty years away.
"Do I know how to provide dinner entertainment or what?" she explained as Ro looked at her blankly. Then, the Bajoran smiled, and finally, she started to laugh as well. Before long, they were both laughing so hard, they could barely remain in their seats and the more they tried to stop, the harder they laughed. Ro was bent over, her arms around her ribs as if to ease their aching while B'Elanna whooped and gasped and wondered how the couple could manage to find such humor when it seemed like things were as bad as they could get for them.
It never occurred to her that perhaps such an ability to laugh together could be something they could build on ... if only they would recognize it.
Seven of Nine woke, blinking as she realized the lights had already come up to signify morning watch. She sat up and looked around uncertainly, frowning as Janeway came out of the ensuite. The captain was fully dressed in her uniform and was affixing her comm badge to her left breast. She stopped as she saw Seven and smiled.
"Good morning, love," she said, her eyes warm. "Are you planning to get up today?"
"What time is it?" Seven was considerably disconcerted.
"0610." Janeway moved over to perch on the edge of the bed. She kissed Seven gently on the mouth, cupping the Borg's cheek in the palm of her hand. "You slept almost ten hours."
Seven inhaled slowly. "The last thing I remember is our making love before dinner," she said, thinking back to the night before. She could not remember ever sleeping through the morning call by the computer before. Not on a regular duty shift rotation, at least.
"You fell asleep immediately after we ... ah, finished," Janeway said dryly, "I'm beginning to think there's a definite correlation between our making love and your ability to sleep." She grinned slyly, running her hand lightly up and down Seven's leg through the blankets. "I may have my work cut out for me in the future as I make sure you get enough ... sleep."
Seven blushed faintly at the tone in her partner's voice even as it filled her with anticipation. "I have not slept for such long periods of time before. Yet I believe that I am benefiting from it."
The captain sobered. "I'm so glad, darling. I was beginning to worry. It'sobvious you've been operating with a 'sleep-debt' for a while and only now, are you starting to catch up on it." She reached over and poked Seven in the stomach with her forefinger. "But you'd better haul your lazy butt out of bed or you'll be late."
It had been some time since the captain had bantered with her in this playful manner, perhaps believing that Seven would not have been able to accept that sort of interaction. The Borg decided that the captain must now feel that Seven was once again able to participate fully in this give-and-take of humor, and it warmed her heart. Apparently, the sessions Sek was providing Seven had somehow altered the young woman's general attitude, enabling the captain to perceive her partner differently than she had in the past month. Seven considered that an acceptable signpost on her path to recovery.
Seven abruptly reached out and pulled the captain into her arms, tickling her lightly. "You are teasing me," she accused, but with pleasure as Janeway collapsed on top of her.
Janeway laughed and squirmed, trying to escape her partner's fingers. "I am, but maybe I shouldn't. I'd forgotten how you get even." She captured the Borg's hands firmly, kissing Seven once more, and drew away with a bit of reluctance. "What would you like for breakfast this morning? It's my turn to cook."
The two women had, over the course of their marriage, settled into an alternating pattern in making breakfast, though dinner was still primarily the purview of Seven who cooked ten or fifteen times to every one turn taken by the captain. The understanding for breakfast was that whoever was cooking had the right to program their favorite meal without objections. Because it cost less replicator rations to program two servings of the same dish than it did to program two separate and distinct meals, they usually both ate the same thing every morning.
Seven considered it. "Oatmeal," she said, knowing that Janeway absolutely detested the cereal. "With cinnamon and raisins."
Janeway hesitated. She had deferred the choice to her partner, after all. "Wouldn't you rather have Eggs Benedict?" she asked, so wistfully that Seven could not maintain her impassiveness, smiling impishly.
"Yes, Kathryn that would be acceptable."
Janeway returned the smile, obviously realizing that she'd been had by the Borg. "Good choice," she said wryly, poking the young woman in the ribs again with her thumb before getting up. She gazed down at her partner fondly. "Get ready for your duty shift and I'll have breakfast on the table by the time you're done."
"Yes, Kathryn," Seven replied obediently and rolled out of bed. She stretched luxuriously and noticed that the captain had paused in the doorway to look back appreciatively. "Yes?" she invited, eyeing her partner archly.
"Only that ... I think I'll enjoy helping you go to sleep tonight," Janeway replied huskily. "And if I had the time this morning, I'd be more than pleased to help you go back to sleep right now."
"Perhaps I shall stop by your ready room, this afternoon ... for a 'nap'."
Janeway laughed again, her eyes bright and blue. "You'd better not. I have a lot to go over with Chakotay today. In fact, I might be late finishing up this evening." She waved at her. "Go get ready for duty."
Seven smiled and went into the ensuite where she showered quickly and drew on her blue-and-grey biometrics outfit. Putting her hair up, she returned to the living area where Janeway was placing breakfast on the table. Jake, the couple's Irish Setter, was busily consuming his own breakfast, which was automatically dispensed by a device, but he did pause briefly to look up at her, wagging his tail. Seven petted him, and then moved over to the kitchenette counter where she quickly shoveled the proper mixture of coffee beans and the extra secret ingredient ... the key to Phoebe Janeway's special blend ... into the coffee maker, setting it to perk so that it would be ready by the time Janeway left for the bridge. She dropped a kiss on the back of the captain's neck before taking her seat, smiling as she started on her meal, feeling that just maybe, things were starting to return to some semblance of normalcy.
"Is there anything interesting in the logs?" she asked her partner, who was perusing her work padd that was set to automatically download the ship's logs throughout the beta and gamma shifts from the night before. It was a good way for the captain to update herself before she began her shift, normally reading it over breakfast, making for fairly quiet meals in the morning, but productive ones.
Janeway sipped her juice and shook her head. "No," she said. "Pretty quiet evening apparently. I guess everyone was tired." She flashed her blue-grey eyes at her partner and smiled. "Some even went to sleep before dinner."
"You are just annoyed because you had to make your own meal last night," Seven responded placidly.
Janeway waved the padd at her for emphasis. "You know what a hardship that is on me. A good wife would have taken care of that before jumping on me as soon as I walked through the door."
"I shall remember that in the future," Seven noted sagely. "Your limitations around a replicator is something no one should endure, particularly the woman I love."
Janeway laughed and held up her hand, obviously surrendering this round. "Would you like to have lunch with me, darling? I should be free at 1300."
"I will make a point of being free as well," Seven promised, even though she knew it would require a certain amount of negotiating with Jennifer Delaney to cover astrometrics. But the inflection in the captain's voice and the color of her eyes let the Borg know it was not an idle request on Janeway's part, but rather, a sincere desire to be with her spouse. She tried never to reject those sorts of requests. "Where?"
"I'll have Neelix make up a picnic basket. It's been awhile. Meet me in the arboretum."
Pleased by the suggestion, Seven smiled at her. "It is fortunate that the biometrics department did not think to add Formicinae Camponotus to the environment."
Janeway paused, no doubt tracking down the biological reference from her memories, and then grinned as she finally pinpointed the proper meaning of the Latin terms. "No, we wouldn't need ants," she said with warm humor. "Even if it is a picnic."
They finished breakfast and returned to the ensuite to complete their morning routine. They kissed farewell at the door, a bit more lingeringly than was normal for the average work day, before finally breaking apart to head for the turbolift, Janeway taking the first car to the bridge while Seven waited for the next one to take her down to astrometrics.
At 1300 hours, Seven decided that she wanted her entire family unit together for lunch and returned to deck three to retrieve Jake from their quarters. The couple's pet could not be more pleased to be accompanying his mistress and when he saw the captain setting up a picnic blanket under some trees, he was in absolute doggy heaven. Janeway patted him lavishly, praised him for being a good dog, and then sent him off with a few crewmembers who were delighted to spend their park time throwing a ball for the amiable animal.
"I'm glad you brought him," Janeway said as Seven sank to the blanket beside her.
Seven inhaled the fresh air scented with growing things and earth, drawing it deep into herself. "I have been neglecting him lately." Her eyes became thoughtful. "I think that being depressed is a particularly selfish state of mind."
"Perhaps," Janeway agreed as she set out the various containers from the wicker picnic basket next to her. "But when you're unable to take emotional comfort from anyone or anything else, including yourself, it's impossible to give anything emotional in return. Even with pets."
"His love is so unconditional," Seven said, her eyes following the red flash of the dog as he dashed across the lawns. "He gives it so willingly and takes nothing in return."
Janeway followed her gaze. "True, but he looks to us for attention and food. He probably thinks it's a more than fair exchange." She turned back to Seven and smiled. "So how was your morning?"
Seven considered the question. "Efficient, but time seems to move slowly today. I really would like to take a 'nap' this afternoon."
The captain's smile widened as she filled her plate from the various containers. "Sorry, darling," she said, honest regret coloring her tone. "But I'll probably be busy well into the beta shift, which is why I'm taking this long lunch break with you. Not to mention the fact that I wanted to make sure you have lunch. You need to catch up on your meals as well as your sleep."
"Is there a time limit in my recovery when you will cease being so concerned about my health?"
Janeway quirked an eyebrow. "I'm sure there is," she responded mildly. "Approximately the same time you stop commenting on my eating and sleeping habits."
Seven realized that since she had no intention of ever stopping the tender, loving care she gave Janeway, this was to be a life-long exchange between them. But perhaps that was also fair, she decided. There would be times when Janeway would require as much consideration as she had given Seven in the past month and the Borg wanted to be able to provide it. And more importantly, for Janeway to be able to accept it. Perhaps that was even what made their marriage work ... this equitable give and take between them. Seven was trying hard to understand that, even though she still felt quite guilty about demanding so much of Janeway's time and attention recently.
Ignoring the presence of other crewmembers wandering about the park, she leaned over and kissed Janeway soundly on the cheek.
"I love you," she told her with utter sincerity.
The blue-grey eyes sparkled. "I adore you, my darling," the captain replied, not seeming surprised or dismayed by the public display of affection. "Always."
They leisurely consumed the two types of salad and squares of sandwiches Neelix had prepared, all washed down with fruit juice. Cheese and grapes rounded out the meal and after they had gathered up the empty containers and replaced them in the picnic basket, Janeway leaned back against the trunk of the tree, patting her stomach.
"A nap doesn't sound too bad, right now," she admitted lazily. "A real nap, I mean."
"Your sleep has been interrupted often lately, as well," Seven agreed quietly. She was sitting cross-legged a few feet away, regarding her spouse steadily, wanting her with every fiber of her being. The very way Janeway looked in her captain's uniform was sometimes all that Seven required to be aroused and while she was a little surprised by the strength of it at the moment, it was not an unfamiliar sensation.
"Darling, if you don't stop looking at me like that, someone's bound to notice." Janeway's eyes were lidded, half closed and her head was not even turned in the young woman's direction, but Seven had learned not to underestimate her spouse's awareness.
"Like what?"
"As if you want to have me for dessert right here, under the tree."
Seven thought about it. "I do."
The corner of the captain's mouth turned up, a crooked grin ghosting across her lips. "It won't happen," she said with warning. "In such a public place."
"Then perhaps I am required to show you my alcove. It is only a few meters away ... and very private."
Janeway's lips twitched. "Ah, the Borg equivalent of offering to show me your etchings."
Seven, who knew what etchings were thanks to the brief time spent in daVinci holoprogram, but unfamiliar with what was obviously a saying of sorts, did not respond, waiting patiently for her spouse's decision. The captain did not give much sign she was even contemplating the Borg's suggestion, looking very much as if she were ready to go to sleep. But moisture suddenly beaded on Janeway's upper lip and Seven knew she was considering it very carefully, indeed.
"Very well," Janeway allowed finally, in quite a husky voice, "Perhaps a complete check of your Borg alcove is in order."
Quietly, Seven rose to her feet and reached down, offering a hand to the captain who was pulled to her feet. Together, they drifted over to the room containing the alcoves and as Janeway looked over the park to make sure no one was paying any particular attention to them, Seven accessed the touch-pad and they eased inside. Seven sealed the door behind them, using several encryption codes to enforce the lockout mechanism, then she looked at her spouse who had moved over to the alcoves, standing before them with her arms crossed over her chest as if she were cold.
Frowning faintly, Seven went over and hugged the smaller woman from behind, holding her close. "Is something wrong, Kathryn?"
Janeway shook her head. "It's silly," she murmured, eyes fixed on the Borg equipment. "It's just that I haven't really been in here very often since we closed the area off. That one time when I had to find you after the incident with ... when you were hurt, I had other concerns on my mind rather than paying attention to the decor. But today I'm very aware of the atmosphere of this place, how much it feels ... Borg, now."
"The confined space does resemble a Borg cube more than the openness of the cargo bay." Seven paused and kissed Janeway's temple. "Do you wish to leave?"
Janeway turned in her embrace and looked up with warm eyes, a hint of mischief coloring them. "Not at all, Making love in a Borg cube has to have its own form of appeal. Certainly, not many people can claim it in their romantic résumé."
Seven smiled. "I do not believe any entity in the history of the universe has ever coupled in a Borg alcove."
Janeway's grin widened, showing her teeth, which gleamed an unnatural white in the humid, greenish illumination. "Then, by all means; let us boldly go where no one has gone before, my darling."
She slipped out of Seven's arms and mounted the dais, inserting herself into the cubical, turning around to rest her arms on the two metal braces as she leaned back against the regeneration plate. She had a very challenging, almost territorial expression on her face, as if she was claiming this area, just as she had claimed Seven so long ago. Seven wondered if the captain had always looked like that when standing on the dais or if it was just today?
"What are you waiting for?" Janeway prompted huskily.
"I am merely contemplating logistics," Seven responded honestly. She stepped up onto the dais herself and eased herself between the metal braces, pressing against Janeway. "Tell me if it becomes uncomfortable."
"Oh, I'll let you know," Janeway promised, wrapping her arms around Seven's waist and raising her face to be kissed which Seven promptly did.
The lingering, thoroughly passionate kisses here in the shadows of circuitry and angular construction was a harsh counterpoint to the wonderful, sweet softness of her partner. Seven dropped her hands to the captain's buttocks, squeezing provocatively as she pulled Janeway closer to her, absorbed in the taste and touch of Kathryn. Their respiration increased as they continued to caress each other, hands roaming freely beneath Starfleet uniform and through biometric mesh, though neither was quite sure about how they were going to accomplish their goal. Of course, both were certainly content to keep up their passionate fondling until one of them figured it out, but several abortive attempts later, usually forestalled by extreme discomfort to various body parts, it was clear to both that making love in a Borg alcove ... like making love on a beach ... was far more exciting in concept than in actuality.
Finally, Janeway threw her head back and groaned loudly.
"Darling, I love you utterly and you can't believe how aroused I am right now, but this just isn't working. And it's taking far too long. I need to return to the bridge."
"I know," Seven said with disappointment as she ceased her attempt to arrange Janeway into a more receptive position, letting go of the captain's thigh that she had hiked into the air. "Perhaps if we lay on the deck?"
The captain laughed and kissed Seven on her nose. "Some things aren't worth that," she said with gentle humor that was unquestionably underlain with frustration. "Not when you consider that there's a very big and comfortable bed waiting for us after our duty shifts. Besides, my back wouldn't take that metal mesh and yours shouldn't have to."
"Very well." Seven sighed and released her partner, attempting to straighten her outfit as she stepped down from the dais. She helped Janeway tidy her clothes into some semblance of order, and then spent ten more minutes looking for a pip before finally finding it beneath the work console where it had rolled. The two women checked each other's appearance one last time, making sure they weren't too disheveled, and slunk out of the room, glad that the door ... and their less-than-triumphant exit ... was partially concealed by high, lush bushes.
"Now we know why no one's ever made love in a Borg alcove," Janeway muttered as they returned to their picnic site and gathered up the basket and blanket. Jake came tearing over to greet them ... if indeed, he had even noticed they had been gone ... and the captain scratched behind his ears. "It's completely impractical."
"It can be done," Seven insisted, her face thoughtful. "I shall simply have to think on it further."
Janeway raised an eyebrow. "If you're really that determined, I suppose I could be persuaded to make another attempt in the future. Maybe it's not completely impossible."
Seven shot her a look and smiled faintly. "Nothing is impossible."
She enfolded her spouse's hand in her own and together, they left the arboretum, Jake gamboling behind them in ecstatic doggy contentment.
Janeway and Ro left the ready room, the lieutenant strolling to the turbolift as the captain took over the command chair. Aware of her first officer regarding her with interest, Janeway inclined her head briefly, letting him know that the Bajoran had accepted the offer she had made to her earlier in the week. He raised an eyebrow and nodded in return, neither pleased nor displeased necessarily, but certainly feeling reservations. Since he had confided them all earlier to Janeway, there was no need to discuss them any further. It was his job to play devil's advocate for her, offering any objections he could think of so that she could approach her decisions with a balanced view. Now that it was settled, he would do whatever he needed to make sure Ro was properly educated as to everything a first officer was required to do.
But he couldn't say he was looking forward to it.
He stood up and with a nod to the captain, he made his way over to the lift where Ro was waiting, an impassive expression on her face. "Lieutenant," he said quietly, with what he hoped was a friendly tone.
"Commander," she responded evenly, with no particular inflection to her voice at all.
He offered her a tentative smile that didn't seem to dent the facade of almost Vulcan-like stoniness on her face. Stifling a sigh, he stared at the doors of the turbolift as it descended, wondering how well this was going to work out. The one thing he hadn't brought up with the captain was the fact that since both officers had been involved with B'Elanna ... Chakotay, shortly before Ro ... the personal chemistry between them might provide a certain amount of antagonism if they weren't careful. On the other hand, he expected that Ro would be a complete professional, just as he would make every attempt to be, but it was still a little bit of additional baggage, which was only going to make his task a little harder.
Or a lot harder, he thought as he glanced sideways at the woman. He studied her surreptitiously as the lift descended, thinking back over their history, such as it was.
The truth was, he could hardly remember the young woman who had joined his resistance cell so long ago, nor paid much attention to her at the time. She had been just another Bajoran, unwilling to let go of the antagonism toward the Cardassians and aided in her obscurity by keeping to herself, not letting on that she had Starfleet experience. He had picked up on little hints of it now and again, even mentioning it to B'Elanna on one occasion, but neither Maquis member had pursued it. Now, in retrospect, he remembered incidents that clearly indicated advanced tactical training ... in particular, the ability to pull the wool over his eyes.
He supposed the real problem he was having with her was that she had known from the beginning that Tuvok had been a Federation plant in his resistance cell, and never told him, enabling her to keep her own secret. He didn't think he would ever completely forgive her for that one or ever be able to trust her entirely. He also wondered if he would ever be able to ask her about B'Elanna. He darted another look at her stone-like face and decided that was something he was going to wait a considerable amount of time to bring up, if ever.
They stepped off the turbolift and straightening his shoulders, he led her to geophysics and her first lesson.
Seven of Nine frowned at her padd as she sat on the sofa in her quarters, studying the revamped specs for the integrity fields of the ship. If Voyager was ever to be able to utilize the modified slipstream drive, her crew would have to find a way to modify the shields so that the ship could survive the buffeting within the conduit. So far, that breakthrough had defied them, but Seven was sure it was only a matter of time. Perhaps an alternate power source, she considered as she entered some more data. Ironically, even though she had certain reservations about returning to the Alpha Quadrant, she still wanted to be able to solve this problem for Kathryn, as much as she had ever wanted anything in her life.
The door hissed open and she glanced up to see her partner enter, startled at how late it was. Janeway had been working well into the beta shift the past few evenings, covering for Chakotay who had undertaken a new training project, and Seven decided that she was starting to miss her partner profoundly. She wondered if she should say something, or just be patient for another week or so. After all, Chakotay would not be diverted from his primary duties forever.
"Hello, darling," Janeway greeted, smiling faintly. Seven stood up, leaving her padd on the coffee table, and enfolded the smaller woman into her arms. "Did you have a good day?"
"It was a productive afternoon," Seven told her, brushing her lips over the fine line of the captain's left brow. "Lt. Kim has provided new specs for the integrity field emitters that may prove useful in applying them to the slipstream project."
Janeway's gaze grew distant. "Sometimes it works that way," she allowed, thoughtfully. "You work on the slipstream drive and come up with ideas that won't work for your experiments, but will work for his restraining field project. In turn, he discovers techniques that may assist you. That's always been the appeal of science to me ... not that you find what you're looking for, but rather that you often discover what you aren't."
Seven nodded. "It is an intriguing phenomenon."
"What else happened today?" Janeway asked, changing the subject as she refocused her attention on her partner, her eyes shading to blue.
Seven brightened. "I saw Sek," she explained, remembering what had been quite an interesting session. She did not remember that she had yet to mention to her partner that she was taking sessions with Sek in the first place. "She has been assisting me with my fears about returning to the Alpha Quadrant and today's session was particularly enlightening."
Janeway blinked, obviously surprised by this and from her expression, not entirely pleased by it. "I see. I didn't know you were seeing Sek in a professional capacity. Why didn't you talk to me about this?"
"I no longer wish to distract you with concerns that I must learn to deal with on my own, Kathryn," Seven told her soberly. "As captain, you have much to worry about. I do not want to add to that burden."
"Oh, darling," Janeway protested quietly as she tightened her embrace, "you never add to my burden. If anything, you lighten it. Annika, if I've ever given you the impression that I'm the least bit unwilling to listen to you, then please believe me when I say that nothing could be further from the truth. I always want to know what's going on with you, and if you're having any difficulty at all, I need to be aware of it. I'm sorry if I've ever made you feel that I'm not interested in your concerns."
"You have not," Seven told her, rueful that this plan to help ease Janeway's concern for her had instead, seemed to intensify it. "I am merely attempting to find alternate ways to deal with my continued sadness. I know you wish to help me, Kathryn, but my struggles in recent weeks, including my insomnia, has caused your own sleeplessness. It affects your command. That is not anything I wish to be responsible for."
"Darling, I want to be as supportive to you as I can," Janeway said quietly, her eyes grey and intent. "Don't reject that. Please."
Surprised, Seven regarded her more closely. "I am not," she assured her partner slowly, frowning as she tried to fathom why the captain was disturbed by this. "Kathryn, this is not about rejecting you. It is about finding other ways to help myself in difficult times, rather than always demanding that you be my sole support."
"But it's an equal exchange, Annika," Janeway argued softly. "There have been many incidents when I've had to rely completely on your love. Remember when I returned from the Barellan prison? Or those nights when you stayed up with me and talked to me when I was feeling particularly low? I needed you to be there for me... and undoubtedly, will in the future. It's not a chore for me to be there for you in return, darling. It hurts me to think that I can't help you."
"Yet, you have explained to me many times, the advantages of having an objective viewpoint, Kathryn." Seven's head tilted slightly as she looked down into the changeable eyes. "Do we not agree that you are not always objective when it comes to my well-being, just as I am not objective when it comes to yours?" She inhaled slowly, bemused at her partner's disturbance. "Kathryn, I do not mean to make you feel as if I didn't need you. I shall always need you. But not even you can help me in every way, especially when you have so much else on your mind. That is why I have gone to Sek. Not to replace your support, but to supplement what you always give to me."
Janeway stared at her partner, and then lowered her head, a rueful expression crossing her face. "I guess I just proved your point about not being objective, didn't I? I'm taking this as a personal affront when I should be looking at it as another step in your growth." She paused, and then added in a low tone, "Annika, I can appreciate how you would want to explore different ways to deal with personal problems as well as wanting to be more independent. I'm certainly not going to stand in the way of that. But darling, I also want you to know that I'm always going to be here for you. Don't ever think that I'm too busy to listen to you."
"I am aware of that, Kathryn," Seven told her seriously, rubbing her cheek up and down the captain's temple. "I have never doubted your willingness to listen to my problems."
"I'm glad." The captain sighed softly and managed a smile. "I'm overreacting. Wanting to be in control of everything, I guess ... including all your problems." She kissed Seven gently and rested her forehead against her chin. "Forgive me."
"It is your nature," Seven smiled. "There is nothing to forgive." Carefully, she rubbed the small of the captain's back. "Have you eaten yet?" she added, changing the subject. "I was considering something simple for dinner tonight; rice and chicken, but if your hunger is greater, I can create something more substantial."
Janeway smiled. "No, that sounds fine. I should change." She drew away. "But I would like you to tell me over dinner, more about what you and Sek are doing, if you would," she added over her shoulder as she headed for the bedroom.
Seven moved over to her kitchenette where the chicken protein was quickly replicated and covered in various spices before being placed in the heating unit to roast. At the replicator, she accessed the basic program for wild rice, and entered in several supplements, including bits of green pepper, mushrooms, and onion. The resulting bowl that materialized emanated a very savory aroma and after taking a quick taste, she decided that she was satisfied with the results.
Janeway came out of the bedroom, dressed in a t-shirt and trousers, and quickly set the table. By the time she was done, the chicken was finished and Seven carried it and the bowl of rice over to the center of the table, using protective mitts to handle the hot dishes.
"It smells delicious," the captain complimented her as they sat down.
"It does," Seven admitted, feeling somewhat surprised by the surge of appetite she felt. She filled her plate with the rice and took the larger piece of chicken. She knew that Janeway had noticed because the smaller woman had a sort of soft, approving expression on her face.
"So," Janeway said, once they were well into the meal, "How long have you been seeing Sek?"
"Almost a week," Seven explained, noting that she had startled Janeway yet again, judging from her expression. "We have our 'sessions' during the last hour of my duty shift. Ironically, we have talked little about the possible contact with the Alpha Quadrant, which was why I initially contacted her. Instead, we have extensively discussed all that happened with the 'Mimic' and how I felt about it. Today, she gave me an assignment."
Janeway quirked an eyebrow. "An assignment?"
"Yes, similar to those given in my Starfleet courses." At the time, the Borg had merely nodded obediently when Sek offered her suggestion but now, Seven wondered about it. "Sek suggested that I find a way to contact my 'inner self' and ask 'her' why 'she' is so angry." She paused. "What does that mean, Kathryn?" She looked at her partner expectantly.
Janeway blinked. "Uh, I don't know, Annika." She toyed with her rice. "Could you explain the conversation a little more?"
Seven considered it. "Today, we discussed the actions of the Mimic. Sek asked why I was still so angry about it, even now. She told me that I should try to communicate with my inner self and discover what was truly at the root of my anger." She blinked, rather puzzled. "I thought I had been very clear about why I was angry. It was because of the actions of the alien."
"Did you ask her to clarify?"
Seven hesitated. "I thought that you could explain it to me." What she didn't say was that she rarely liked showing how little she knew about certain things to anyone other than her spouse. She blushed. "I still rely on your experience often, Kathryn."
Janeway stared at her, and then smiled a little. "Darling, I'm not very good at delving into my own inner self, let alone anyone else's." She paused. "But it's possible that she means you should try to figure out why what the alien did upset you so much."
"Is it not evident why I should be upset?" Seven asked, astounded.
Janeway pursed her lips, obviously searching for the right words. "You have every right to react the way you did, darling, but perhaps Sek just wants you to think about why this particular situation made you so angry and hurt, whereas other, more inherently dangerous and threatening situations have not really bothered you at all. After all, the alien, as we later discovered, was only doing what it had to do in order to survive. It never really intended to hurt you personally." She looked up and caught the expression on her partner's face, holding up a hand to forestall the outburst trembling on Seven's lips. "I'm not justifying anything on the alien's part here, Annika. I'm just trying to explain Sek's reasoning and maybe I shouldn't. After all, I can't speak for her, and it is Sek that you went to for help about this, not me."
Seven nodded and calmed herself. "If she asked you a similar question, how would you proceed?"
Janeway put her elbows on the table, steepling her fingers, as she gave that due consideration. "I think that I would try to look to the part of myself that was more emotion than intellect. For example, you know about my feelings towards my father. As an adult and as a Starfleet officer, I am fully cognizant of the pressures and demands he had upon him. I completely understand how he had to uphold his duty to both Starfleet and the Federation, particularly during that unstable time with the Cardassians, even at the cost of his family. I can even fully appreciate the agony that this caused him. I had a chance to speak with him about it before he died and made a sort of peace with him. Yet, despite all that, there's still a part of me ... a younger, more childlike part ... that refuses to understand why he left me so often. And that part still hurts and is still bewildered and is still angry in a lot of ways, long after his death. Perhaps it always will, but I try not to let it override all the good things we shared."
"I do not think I understand," Seven said, trying to apply what her partner had said to her own situation and failing utterly.
Janeway sighed. "I know, which is why you're going to have to go back to Sek and tell her you can't carry out the assignment until you talk about it further."
Seven didn't like that suggestion at all and it must have showed in her expression because the captain granted her an amused look. "I know how much you hate that idea. You probably think it's a failure of some sort and we both know how much you dislike even the hint of failure. But darling, if you don't have enough information to carry out a task, you don't become frustrated, you simply acquire more information until you're able to accomplish what you set out to do. Just like the slipstream drive project. This is no different."
Explained like that, Seven was able to take a deep breath and feel better about the prospect of telling Sek that she had not succeeded at what had seemed like a fairly simple request at the time. "I understand."
Janeway took a deep breath. "I'm really glad you found someone to help you, Annika. Despite my ... surprise that you were seeing Sek, I'm fully aware that you need many different viewpoints in your life."
Seven nodded. "Many voices, like in the Collective." She offered the captain a tentative smile. "I know you continue to be concerned for my well-being, Kathryn. I have also come to understand now, why you become so irritated when I repeatedly demand that you eat and sleep regularly. It is very annoying."
Janeway looked startled, then laughed. "There's a method behind it. If one repeats something often enough, the other person will do just about anything to shut the first person up."
Seven considered that. "I always thought it was because you finally saw reason," she said, thinking of all the times she had used the same sort of coercion on Kathryn.
Janeway shook her head. "No, it just meant I wanted you to stop nagging me about it, not because I necessarily agreed about your initial reasons for it."
"'Nagging'?"
Another grin, a crooked one this time. "It's a term used for that sort of insistent reminders. Like it or not, it sometimes serves its purpose."
"Ah," Seven remarked. "It is a useful form of interaction. No doubt we will continue to use it in the future."
"No doubt," Janeway said dryly ... so dryly that Seven had the faint suspicion that she was missing a deeper meaning to what was being said.
The rest of dinner passed uneventfully, though both Seven and the captain again took note of Seven's vastly improved appetite. The Borg even had a respectable piece of blueberry pie and ice cream for dessert, something she had not indulged in for well over a month. Later, Seven resumed her work on the slipstream project at her workstation, while Janeway called for Jake and took the dog for a walk.
The captain didn't return until late, and Seven knew that meant the captain had run into someone, or several someones, during her stroll and passed the time speaking with them. For whatever reason, the crew apparently found it easier to speak with their commanding officer about things that might be bothering them when they ran into her walking Jake than they did when she was wearing her uniform.
Or it was equally possible, Seven considered, that Janeway had found an out-of-the-way spot to contemplate things, including the fact that her spouse had felt the need to go elsewhere for advice ... most likely the small, auxiliary room under the saucer section of Voyager. The Borg had come to comprehend that occasional solitude was necessary for all individuals and for the captain, who had so much responsibility and pressure, sometimes it was even crucial. Seven certainly did not begrudge it to her, nor did the young woman feel hurt or left out by it. Even the Borg, herself, sometimes retired to her alcove on deck eight where she knew she would not be disturbed by casual interruptions as she was while working in astrometrics.
But Seven was still glad to welcome the captain back when Janeway finally returned and even more happy to curl up around Kathryn's warm body after they finished making love. Settling behind the compact form, Seven sighed softly as she tucked her knees up under Janeway's, snuggling against the soft body in her arms, feeling content and relatively happy. Sometimes the 'giving' in a relationship, simply meant giving each other space, Seven considered.
And 'taking' meant merely accepting the need for it.
Regarding the two women sitting across from her in the office, Sek decided that she had never seen two people more resistant to a situation they had initiated. Their body language was tense, their expressions foreboding, their eyes darting and nervous, almost as if they were frightened at the prospect at what might be discovered in this joint session.
This was going to take awhile, Sek thought ruefully.
B'Elanna Torres glowered darkly while she spoke while Ro Laren was more circumspect about her opinion, but both were equal in their reticent attitude. The hologram wondered how she could get the ball rolling with the women and supposed the first step was to try to open the lines of communication, not only between the two women, but with her, as their counselor.
But the initial meeting did not go as well as she hoped. B'Elanna was openly resistant and so was Ro, though Sek rather thought that the Bajoran believed she was being completely cooperative. It was easy for the hologram to see that Ro Laren had undergone several intensive psychological sessions with counselors before and Starfleet counselors in particular. The lieutenant had far too many pat answers, given automatically to Sek's questions. The fledgling counselor wondered if the reserved Bajoran realized how conditioned she had become, how much she was responding by rote rather than with emotional honesty? Ro had obviously learned early how to protect herself from outside probes ... something expected in a security officer with advanced tactical training perhaps, but not necessarily a good thing when dealing with loved ones.
B'Elanna, in contrast, gave short, bitten-off replies and appeared angrier the more Ro conducted herself with apparent ease. Sek finally ended the session by making separate appointments for each woman, as well as scheduling another joint effort sometime in the future. She observed them closely as they left before looking down at her hands that lay limply on the desk. To her surprise, they were actually trembling and it occurred to her, that if she were at all capable of perspiring, sweat would be pouring off her. Apparently, Seven of Nine was not going to be Sek's toughest case after all.
Indeed, Seven was responding remarkably well to her sessions, possibly because it was a brand new experience to her and she was able to enter into it with a completely open and accepting attitude. Seven was also extremely motivated to help herself, undoubtedly stemming from her great desire to please her spouse, her captain and her mentor ... all of which were wrapped up in the compact form of Janeway.
Sek would love to spend a session or two with the captain, but it was clear that while Janeway understood the use of a ship's counselor and was prepared to utilize Sek in the role, she had no intention of ever coming to the counselor herself. Sek could only come to certain conclusions based on observation, and now that she was a fledgling psychologist, she wallowed in them whenever she had the opportunity. To her, it was apparent that, without Seven's moderating influence on the captain, eventually Janeway would have lost her own internal checks and balances and would by now, be well on her way to mimicking some of Captain Ransom's behavior in more than just the obsession to get home.
The hologram sighed and filed the most recent session into the computer, sealed with her ship's counselor authority. Then, because she had a while before her next patient, she activated her mentors, able to do so because her office was part of sickbay and had its own set of internal, holographic emitters. The three individuals appeared, Karn lounging on the leather couch, T'Var, sitting primly in the chair directly opposite Sek, and Dr. Sylvan, standing across the room, looking thoughtfully at a painting on the wall ... just as they were posed when she had last deactivated them.
"This is my latest case," she said, and touched the touch pad. Instantly, all the pertinent information regarding Ro and B'Elanna, including a visual and audio recording of the session they had just completed, was presented to the three masters, the holograms absorbing it instantly.
T'Var raised an eyebrow, the only indication of her internal opinion. Sylvan looked concerned as he left the painting and moved over to the chair next to T'Var while Karn snorted in mingled amusement and disgust.
"I await your wisdom," Sek said formally.
"This is going to be a nasty one," Sylvan noted, rather unhelpfully.
T'Var inclined her head slightly. "It does seem that certain difficulties are inherent in this case."
"Torres is a sorry excuse for a warrior. She whines rather than confronts." Karn raised his eyebrow. "Ro is worthy. A pity she's not the Klingon."
T'Var glanced at Karn, looking vaguely interested. "Intriguing. Is it possible that because Ro displays traits that are held up as desirable by Klingons, that Torres more acutely feels a lack within her own life?"
Sylvan shook his head. "Torres is half Human. Her insecurities spring from a far deeper source than mere cultural influences."
"Nonetheless, one cannot discount cultural influences," Karn noted. "That is both the weakness and the strength of a cross-species relationship."
"A weakness, because one is always judging the other based upon their own cultural conditioning," Sek said thoughtfully, "but a strength because the differences can complement each other and make the relationship more binding."
"I do note one thing," Sylvan offered. "In Torres' past, immature behavior was generally accorded to her Klingon heritage rather than being noted for what it truly was ... a lack of growth and resistance to change."
Karn growled. "It is to be expected. She does not have a proper grounding in Klingon culture, nor are the people around her cognizant of what being Klingon truly is. So they think that her behaving immaturely is a display of her Klingon half and make allowances for it in a way that they would not for a member of their own species. Thus, she is granted leave to continue to act in the same manner. Why change when she believes that she has a genetic prerogative to act like a child?"
"Ro does not grant her the same allowance," T'Var noted calmly. "She demands that Torres act as an adult at all times and makes no excuses for immature behavior. That is confusing to Torres, and she takes it as a personal affront."
"Ro also treats Torres as if she were Bajoran, with the same maturing influences that she, herself, experienced," Sylvan noted. "Nor does she understand the very Human cultural conditioning Torres underwent for most of her life."
"So how do I help them learn to understand each other?" Sek asked, rather plaintively.
"By guiding them to a greater understanding of themselves," T'Var said promptly. "Once they understand why they do the things they do, it will become much easier for them to realize the other is not acting under the boundaries of the same motivation ... that there is no reason for the other person to act from the same motivation."
"There is something else involved," Sek noted. "It was not discussed today, but clearly something has happened between them that has caused this dissension."
Sylvan regarded her keenly. "Do not allow yourself to fall into easy assumptions," he reminded the holographic Ocampa. "There is rarely a single event that triggers incompatibility. It merely gives voice to all the earlier conflict."
"I understand that," Sek said stubbornly. "But there is still something there. Both kept shying away from certain topics, and their body language indicated it was fresh, and still sharply painful."
Karn nodded. "I noted that, as well. There is a bone of contention between them, one they cannot resolve." His dark eyes glared at Sek from beneath shaggy brows. "But unless you uncover it, it becomes difficult to treat."
"That will be your task in the independent sessions," Sylvan instructed. "You will no doubt, get varied views on what, if anything, has happened ... it may not even be the same incident ... but in doing so, you will discover how they truly feel about it."
"I concur. More data is required before further speculation is undertaken." T'Var tilted her head slightly. "This is, after all, not an exact science." There was a touch of dissatisfaction with that fact underlying her tone.
Karn linked his fingers over his huge belly and growled. "Next case. How is the Borg progressing?" The triad, of course, were continually updated with all Sek's cases upon activation and Karn seemed to have a particular interest in Seven, perhaps because the Borg were an unknown before his death. He appeared fascinated by their hive mentality and success in controlling so many species.
Sek brightened. "Wonderful. Seven is very open to being counseled."
"Perhaps, too open," T'Var noted coolly. "It would be very easy to guide her to where you wish her to be, rather than allowing her to find her own path. She is influenced by a very strong will, as it is. You must help her learn to listen to her inner self rather than merely accepting what she is taught. She must learn to question facts laid before her."
Sylvan nodded. "Her whole experience is one of allowing others to think for her. It is deeply ingrained. It is difficult for her to differentiate between her own conclusions and those toward which she was guided by outside influences."
Sek frowned. "I don't know that I agree with that. I find her to have become a very well-rounded and mature individual."
"Because she is with someone who expects it of her," Karn said. "Yet, her spouse is still satisfied by a certain amount of dependence from her."
"It is possible that Seven would not have been so devastated by the encounter with the Mimic, were she less trusting of external appearances," Sylvan added gently.
"But I don't want to take away that childlike trust," Sek protested. "It is something that is a part of her ... indeed, it is one of her most valid character traits. Her exterior is Borg, efficient, often cold, sometimes even unemotional, but her true nature is warm and affectionate, loving and kind. Why would I want her to repress that even more than she is already repressing it?"
"You do not need to take it away," Karn argued. "Just help her learn to put her inner child in its proper place. It should not control her."
"I don't think it does," Sek said persistently. "In fact, I don't think she listens to it as much as she needs to. By cutting herself off from the child, Annika Hansen, the adult Seven of Nine has been unable to understand why her encounter with the Mimic was so hurtful. She needs to understand that it's all right to miss her mother, and to love her."
T'Var pinned her with a stern look. "Are you so certain of your conclusions?"
Sek hesitated, then firmed her jaw. "Yes. I believe that once Seven realizes that she needs to nurture and care for the part of her that is still six years old and still needs and loves and misses her mother, then she can fulfill the place of nurturer for herself. Then she will be able to deal with this and find a peace with it." She dared to meet the eyes of the masters who were staring at her with all the scientific intensity of a entomologist with a new species of insect.
She was startled when Sylvan leaned back in his chair and grinned faintly, T'Var's eyebrow lowered in a relaxed state, and even Karn favored her with a bit of a snaggle-toothed smile.
"Excellent," he rumbled. "We do not need fledgling psychologists who allow themselves to be led easily, either."
"No," Sylvan agreed. "You need to be able to think for yourself, to come to your own conclusions independent of what others, including ourselves, might think."
"Not that you should become close-minded and not listen to any counsel but your own," T'Var reminded her gently. "But it is logical to be confident in your abilities."
Sek nodded, a bit relieved. She wondered if Kes had been the source for this belief in herself, or if it had been the contribution of the Doctor. One thing the Doctor had in the beginning of his development, was an arrogant, almost unshakable confidence in his own abilities, programmed into him by the source of his own holographic matrix, Dr. Zimmerman. It had been hard for him to understand that he simply was not perfect and there had been certain conflicts, not only with others, but with himself, when that conclusion became clear to him. Fortunately, the crew of Voyager had, for the most part, supported his growth over the course of six years and she was sure that they would be equally as supportive to her, which made her job a great deal easier.
"That brings us to my final question," Sek remarked. "And it is not a case, but a concern."
"Proceed," T'Var invited.
"The captain, more than any other member of the crew, requires my services."
"Yet the captain, more than any other member of the crew," Sylvan interrupted, a grin appearing on his bearded face, "is the least likely to accept your services."
"It has been thus since ship's counselors were first employed," T'Var agreed and there might almost have been a hint of amusement in her dark eyes.
"Captains are willful, obstinate, sure of their own invulnerability, self-confident to the point of others wishing to knock them on their ass, and reluctant to display any hint of weakness to anyone ranked below them," Karn rumbled with good humor. "In short, the very things that make them successful captains makes them impossible to counsel."
"In truth, Janeway is both less, and more, than others in this manner," T'Var added thoughtfully. "The history of Starfleet captains reveals that she displays many personality traits that have driven others to destruction."
"Yet," Sylvan noted, "at the same time, she has allowed herself more latitude than any one of those doomed captains."
"By marrying Seven," Sek said.
"Not just by mating," Karn corrected, "but by keeping her mate close by, and allowing her to influence a certain amount of her command. Janeway is almost unique in this case. Few captains marry, and those that do, usually leave their mates behind in their home port."
"Karn is correct," T'Var said. "To have her spouse with her all the time, to actually work, live and be intimate with the same person on board a starship, is unprecedented in the history of Starfleet. It is a completely new dynamic, not only to you, but to us as well."
"It's exciting," Sylvan added. "Who knows where it will lead? I envy you, child. You have an opportunity for study that no ship's counselor has ever had before. The problems Captain Janeway will face will be completely new, yet, at the same time, they will be the same problems every married couple has faced. Such a fascinating circumstance."
Sek sighed. "Fascinating."
If her tone was faintly ironic, no one was rude enough to comment on it.
Not even Karn.
Janeway stood in front of the large windows, staring out at the starfield which Voyager raced through on its seemingly endless journey home. She was still fretting over the fact that Seven had decided to go to Sek for help, and struggling to figure out why it bothered her so much. Though she had managed to hide the strongest part of her unease from Seven the night before, it continued to grow within her and now, here in the solitude of her ready room, it nagged at her like a sore tooth, disturbing her concentration. Was it so bad that Seven would seek assistance with someone else? Or was it that her spouse had taken so long to tell her?
The captain understood that this was probably a result of Seven's experience with the alien. By deciding exactly how her recovery would progress, it granted the Borg a sense of being in control ... something she hadn't had with the alien. But Janeway still felt as if she had somehow let the young woman down, had been unable to offer to her all that she wanted to. It filled her with sadness, and wasn't able to keep from contemplating the idea that this was the first step of Seven's eventual growing away from her, just as she had always secretly feared. What would happen when they returned to the Alpha Quadrant and Seven was exposed to an entire quadrant where she had a multitude of opportunities to expand her knowledge? When she could go to Starfleet Academy or the Daystrom Institute and be exposed to vistas beyond what a mere Starfleet captain could give ... find paths Janeway could not travel?
Katie, you're being foolish, her little voice noted with annoyance. Seven loves you and anything new that she embraces will be something that she insists that you share in as well. Just remember to be open to it.
The door chime interrupted the captain's reverie and she shook her head, almost as if she could shake away the unpleasant thoughts plaguing her with a physical gesture.
"Come," she said, turning around.
Seven of Nine entered the ready room, her curvaceous form covered by the plum colored outfit that gave a rosy glow to her cheeks. She held a padd that she offered as she moved toward the upper level as Janeway crossed it.
"The last of the adjustments to the communications array have been made. Assuming that Starfleet Command continues their attempts to reach us, we may be able to expect regular contact. Having both arrays aligned into hyper-subspace could possibly negate the necessity of requiring a spatial anomaly as the first contact required."
They intersected at the stairs, Janeway pausing on the bottom step as she took the padd from her partner and studied the data contained in it. Immediately, she saw what the projections indicated.
"Wonderful," she said, trying for an excited tone but probably only succeeding in sounding ironic, conscious of what her thoughts had been prior to Seven's arrival. "We should expect more communiqués soon."
Seven was standing at attention, her hands linked behind her back, her head tilted slightly as she regarded the Starfleet captain closely. "Kathryn, what is wrong?"
Startled, Janeway looked up at her. "Nothing," she said, forcing a smile. "Honestly, Seven," she added cheerfully, "this is great news. I couldn't be more pleased."
Seven raised an eyebrow, obviously skeptical at this dissembling.
"Kathryn, I know when you are not telling the truth. Explain." She paused. "Is it required that I tickle you?"
Janeway resisted the urge to sigh. "No." She rested her hand on the railing. "I don't want you to tickle me." She frowned and looked down at her feet, feeling an odd sense of mingled resentment and guilt at being caught, that her reluctance to be honest with her spouse was so evident.
Seven took a step closer to the captain who, thanks to her standing on the bottom step of the short flight of stairs, was actually level with the Borg ... an unusual perspective for both of them. The young woman searched Janeway's face intently and the older woman was forced to raise her eyes, meeting the pale blue gaze.
"I know something is wrong," Seven insisted. "Your eyes, which should be blue at such news, are instead, a dark grey. The tiny lines around your mouth are deeper, indicating a tenseness that should not be there. Your shoulders, which are normally relaxed, are squared, as if you are anticipating a blow of some kind."
The captain was horrified that she displayed such blatant physical indications of her emotional state and forcibly relaxed both her shoulders and mouth, though she doubted she could do anything about the color of her eyes. She hadn't known they were such flagrant betrayers of her internal turmoil.
Seven smiled faintly. "Altering your body language now does not change my initial conclusion. What is wrong, Kathryn?"
Exhaling audibly, Janeway gazed at her partner ruefully. "I'm just ... they are irrational fears, Annika." She hesitated, then added in a slightly aggrieved tone, "When did you become so good at reading me?"
Seven reached out and rested her hands on the captain's waist, holding her in place. "I have always been very aware of your moods," she said fondly, "though not always cognizant of how to respond to them. Now, after being married to you for almost a year, I know when to leave you alone with your distress and when I must pursue what is bothering you before it becomes worse. This is the latter. If indeed, these are irrational fears, the sooner they are dealt with, the better."
"But talking about them may give them a validity they don't deserve," Janeway protested mildly as she placed her hand on Seven's upper chest, spreading her fingers as she felt the slow, powerful throb of her partner's heart beneath her palm. She still held the padd in the other. "I recognize they're irrational, but if I share them with you and you have to acknowledge them, you may feel I have a reason to feel this way. That could hurt you."
"You do have a reason to feel this way," Seven remarked evenly. "Just as I do whenever I experience irrational fears. They are based on insecurities within ourselves. By reiterating why there is no need to be insecure, we can lay them to rest."
"You've gotten very good at that psychobabble," Janeway noted, trying for a light tone, realizing after the fact that she had failed utterly. Seven, of course, immediately picked up on it.
"You are still uneasy that I have chosen to go to Sek," she stated with complete authority.
Janeway groaned. "I know I used to be better at keeping my thoughts private."
"Perhaps to others, but not to me. I am far too much a part of your heart, Kathryn, for you to attempt to hide it from me now."
"I guess that's the side affect to living with someone," the captain agreed with a touch of sullenness. She felt Seven pulling her closer, molding her body to hers and she forced her dark mood away, sliding one arm around the slender neck.
"Tell me," Seven said softly in Janeway's ear. "Why does it bother you that I am going to Sek?"
Janeway was silent for a moment, deciding whether she wanted to get into such a discussion now, as Seven waited patiently, rubbing the small of the captain's back soothingly through her tunic with her left hand. "I guess I feel like I've let you down, Annika," Janeway admitted finally. "I've tried so hard to support you during this incident with the 'Mimic', but in the end, it wasn't enough to make things better for you."
Seven considered that. "But Kathryn, no one can make this 'better' for me but myself, and Sek is merely helping me find a way to do that. That is not to say that you could not have accomplished the same thing. Undoubtedly, over time, you would have helped me arrive at the same conclusions as the counselor. She is not personally involved with my struggles as you are, which makes it easier for me to fight through this. It is allowing me to find some resolution to this on my own at an accelerated pace. With you, I always know that you are hurting as I hurt and that makes it difficult for me to explore my pain." She tightened her hold on Janeway. "I must explore this pain, Kathryn, in order to defeat it."
"But I want to help," Janeway said softly and somewhat helplessly.
"You do help," Seven assured her seriously. "Kathryn, you are the one who gave me the strength to seek out Sek in the first place. You give me the courage to keep trying to fight through this no matter how much it hurts. And you give me the hope that no matter how hard it is, I will find a way to resolve it." She paused. "As captain, when you must make a difficult command decision that may affect you personally, do you only speak with me about it?"
Janeway smiled. "No, I also talk it over with Chakotay and Tuvok," she admitted as she buried her face in the warm neck of her spouse. "I understand all this intellectually, darling," she added in a muffled tone. "Really I do. I just have a hard time emotionally, recognizing that I can't be everything for you. In my heart, I feel like I've failed you."
"You have not failed me, Kathryn," Seven told her sincerely. "You have never failed me, nor do I believe that you shall ever let me down. But I have learned that no one can be everything to another person even though that is a hard concept to accept. I, too, wish that I could be everything you need at all times, but I realize that I am not. You need other things in your life; the ship, your crew, your command. Yet, I also know that does not mean that you love me any less or that I am any less important to you. My asking Sek for assistance does not mean that I no longer need you. It just means that sometimes I must go outside 'us' to build on what we have. That is not wrong."
"No, it isn't," Janeway said. "It absolutely isn't, my love." She swallowed hard against a throat that seemed a little full. She was ashamed of what she was feeling and added in a small voice; "I guess I worry that this is the first step in you growing away from me."
"Never," Seven insisted firmly, pressing her cheek against the captain's. "This is merely the first step of being able to grow on my own. Until now, I was like a child, Kathryn, always looking to you to help me in everything. Indeed, expecting you to always have an answer for me, which was not always fair to you. Now I realize I must find my own answers, but it will not take me away from you. Nothing will. Ever."
Janeway sighed softly. "Sometimes I wonder who's the more immature here. I'm sorry, darling."
Seven hugged her tightly. "We complement each other, Kathryn. I am learning that as well, in my sessions with Sek. I am who I am because of you. You taught me how to be Human ... how to be me." She smiled and bent her head, catching the captain's gaze with her own. "But at the same time, I remind you of how to be you."
Janeway smiled faintly, a blush touching her cheeks and making them warm. "You do," she admitted bashfully. "Without you, I would be this miserable, sad and very, very lonely starship commander, not to mention someone who would sometimes forget what being kind and compassionate is really all about. You keep me firmly in check, always reminding me of why I became a Starfleet captain in the first place, and never, ever let me forget my own Humanity." She paused, her chest full. "I love you so much, my darling, yet sometimes, those words seem inadequate to express how much."
Seven nodded. "I know. You mean so much to me."
"I beyond love you," they said together and laughed. Or at least, Janeway laughed while Seven made that small sound of amusement in her throat. One day, Janeway thought as she clung to her partner, basking in her warmth and scent, Seven would remember how to really laugh out loud, and the captain hoped with everything she was that she would be there to witness it.
"I guess I just have to trust in us," Janeway said softly, after a few moments had passed where they held each other tightly. "I tell you that all the time. I need to learn how to take my own advice."
"I know that is hard for you," Seven said dryly. "You are much better at giving advice than taking it."
Janeway bent her head, resting her forehead on Seven's as she smiled. "I am. Maybe one day I'll be mature enough to do it without struggling so hard."
"One day," Seven said indulgently.
She was regarding the captain from beneath her sandy lashes and Janeway didn't hesitate, closing the distance between them to kiss her beloved spouse with complete abandon. She absorbed herself in Seven, delighting in the lips moving over hers, the sweet, intoxicating breath filling her as she inhaled, the security and sense of belonging she felt within this embrace. The warmth of Seven's hands on her back penetrated the layers of uniform as the Borg pulled her close, holding her as naturally as breathing. When they finally parted, Seven stared into her eyes with scientific intensity.
"They're blue now," Seven informed her. "With little grey. You have finally relaxed."
Janeway blinked, then grinned wryly. "Well, since I can't replace my eyes, I guess you're always going to know what I'm feeling."
Seven examined her face. "Does that truly bother you?"
"No," Janeway said gently. "I may thrash around a bit, but you've landed me fair and proper. All that's left is for you to stuff me and mount me on the wall."
Seven eyed her uncertainly. "That is a fishing metaphor, is it not?"
"Yes, it is," the captain replied. She kissed her again, very gently, lingering over the Borg's bottom lip. "Darling, it's time to get back to work."
Seven released the captain reluctantly. "We have not been fishing for a long time," she said, a trifle wistfully.
Janeway quirked an eyebrow as she stepped off the stair and moved around the young woman to take a seat behind her desk. "No, we haven't." She laid the padd on the desktop and smiled. "Next time we have leave on an appropriate M-class planet, I promise that you and I will make a date to go fishing."
Seven's face brightened. "That would be acceptable." She linked her hands once more behind her back. "Do you wish to attempt a communication with Starfleet immediately?"
Janeway nodded. "Yes, set up a regular, repeating message on that channel, indicating that we are ready to receive. Hopefully, they'll be able to pick it up in the near future, assuming they're looking for it."
"I am sure they will be." Seven waited and Janeway stared at her blankly, then smiled as she realized her inadvertent lapse.
"Dismissed," the captain said firmly, and then hesitated before adding, with a touch of impishness, "Darling."
Seven shot her an amused look and left the ready room. For a long time afterward, Janeway leaned back in her chair and stared at the door which had closed behind the young woman. Her face was still thoughtful, but she did not think it was so strained now.
But she did wonder what color her eyes were.
Seven of Nine was startled when she walked into her quarters. The illumination had been brought down to about one quarter, while flickering flames from a variety of candles scattered random shadows over the area. Soft music played over the internal speakers; a slow, romantic meld of saxophone and strings, bringing to mind moonlight and nights on the beach, though how it managed it, Seven was unsure. There was no greeting from Jake and she realized that he must have been farmed out to someone else for the evening. A quick scan of the Borg's memories indicated that this was not a special occasion she had overlooked. It was not her birthday, not Janeway's birthday, nor the anniversary of the first time they met, or made love or moved in together or were married. The current date corresponded to no particular holiday in Human culture, or any other culture represented by the crew of Voyager.
She raised an eyebrow curiously as her partner appeared in the doorway of the bedroom, dressed in a silk gown, long and flowing about her compact form. It was a deep, sapphire blue that gloriously set off her eyes. Seven gently placed the padds she had been carrying onto the flat surface of the desk next to her.
"Have I forgotten something?" she asked as Janeway walked toward her. The young woman's eyes appreciatively took in every millimeter of the journey, roaming over the provocative way her partner's body moved beneath the silk.
"No, this isn't a special occasion," Janeway said as she slipped her arms around Seven's waist and pressed her body against her with sweet familiarity. "Just some time for us."
She swayed invitingly and before Seven realized what she was doing, she was following the captain's lead and the two were dancing. Seven inhaled deeply, detecting the scent of the perfume Janeway had added to her pulse points, and the hint of fragrance that came from the oils used in the captain's bath. Obviously, the captain had taken some time to prepare for her partner's arrival. Softly, the Borg nuzzled the fine, auburn hair and hugged the silk-covered form to her.
"Should I change?" she asked after a few moments, drawing back slightly in order to look down into the gentle bluish eyes. "Into something more appropriate for the ... evening?"
"You're absolutely fine, just the way you are," Janeway assured her, her face soft and vulnerable as she regarded her. "Darling, I just wanted to show you how much I love you. And to apologize for being so silly this afternoon."
"You are never silly, Kathryn," Seven told her seriously. Then, she squeezed her gently and added in a lighter tone, "But I am certainly not adverse to being apologized to in such a manner."
Janeway laughed, that low, husky laugh that never failed to rush along Seven's nerve endings like quicksilver, making her smile in return. It took the young Borg back to a time when all she needed for perfect happiness was this woman in her arms, oblivious to anything that might threaten it. Seven was no longer as naive as she had been once, requiring a conscious effort to block out her external problems, but for this moment, she was glad to try. She nestled the smaller woman under her chin and gracefully led her about the room. The couple immersed themselves in each other, delighting in the wonderful way in which they moved together.
"I have missed this as well," she added in a murmur.
"You've developed into such an incredible dancer," Janeway whispered. "I can't imagine ever wanting to dance with anyone other than you."
Seven pulled her closer, running her hands over the captain's back, her fingertips stroking the skin lightly where the gown was cut low, feeling the warmth. Janeway shivered in her arms.
"I love when you do that," she said breathlessly in the young woman's ear.
"Then I shall do it often," Seven promised, drawing her fingers languidly up her partner's spine, smiling as she heard the intake of breath. Gently, she kissed along the line of Janeway's jaw, brushing her lips over the smooth skin and bone until she reached the earlobe, which she took gently between her teeth, nibbling it.
The captain moaned softly and Seven continued to nuzzle her as she eased the direction of their dancing toward the bedroom. Janeway protested when she realized where they were heading.
"Not yet, darling," she explained. "I have dinner all planned."
Seven looked down at her, amused. "Apparently, I am moving too quickly. What have you planned exactly?"
Janeway grinned at her. "Hmm, lots of finger foods that I can feed to you. Not that they'll all be fed to you by hand."
Seven quirked an eyebrow. "Indeed?" she responded, intrigued by the implication in her partner's voice. "How do you intend to feed them to me?"
"I have my ways," Janeway noted unhelpfully, lifting her own eyebrow. The captain captured the Borg's hand and pulled her in the direction of the dining table set with candles and crystal. She positioned the young woman in the chair set sideways to the table, and then moved over to the kitchenette counter where she retrieved a large platter of bit-sized pastries filled with vegetables, meats and cheeses. A bottle of spring wine was chilling in an ice bucket and she filled a glass before sitting on Seven's lap so that she was facing the table, leaning against the Borg's front.
Seven regarded her evenly. "Most interesting."
"That's the intention." Janeway picked up a spinach-and-beef filled pocket and placed it between her teeth before turning her head to Seven. The young woman hesitated before finally realizing that she was expected to take it from the captain and carefully, she nipped it from Janeway's mouth, ending up with half the small square while Janeway ended up with the other half, the couple stealing a lingering kiss in the process.
Seven decided she rather liked this method of eating.
"This is like the dinner you served me, reflecting the Orion culture," she said, after having been offered several more morsels of food in a like manner. She was referring to a meal the captain had served to her shortly after Janeway had lost her memories ... when she had been attempting to 'woo' the young woman. She sipped the spring wine from the crystal glass Janeway offered to her, meeting the blue-grey gaze over the rim. "Except you did not utilize your mouth to transfer the food to me."
"Something like that." Janeway placed the glass back on the table and gently kissed Seven on the nose. "I think that sometimes I don't romance you as much as I should."
Seven eyed her fondly. "You are not, by nature, a romantic. That simply makes the romantic gestures you attempt even more memorable, Kathryn."
"Well, I definitely want to be memorable. I never want you to forget how much I adore you."
Seven took note of the tone, wondering if she detected a deeper meaning to the words. Perhaps it was another indication of the captain's unease that she had revealed earlier in the day. The Borg wished there was a way to reassure Janeway that she would never grow away from her, no matter what happened, but she had come to realize there was no one single thing she could do or say to calm these irrational fears of her partner. She could only continue to love her.
"You are the first thing I think of when I wake," Seven said softly, but intently, "and the last thing I remember before I sleep. When I am in astrometrics or elsewhere on duty, sometimes I must stop because thoughts of being with you are so distracting that I, literally, cannot work. When I wake in the night, I automatically reach for you before I have even opened my eyes. Even now, after spending so much time together, you are still first and foremost in my heart and you always will be. Being 'memorable' is not something that you ever need worry about."
Janeway smiled and blushed, obviously pleased. "You're such a sweet-talker," she muttered bashfully, finding another pastry which Seven lipped lightly from the captain's fingers, nibbling the tips sensuously, making the captain shiver again. "Not to mention, a very exciting and attractive woman."
"Only for you, my Kathryn," Seven told her gravely. "With no one else do I ever wish to show this side of myself."
"I'm properly grateful for it." Janeway smiled and provided another piece of pastry for the Borg. This exchange was a little clumsier and a fragment dropped onto the captain's cleavage. Immediately, Seven swooped down and retrieved it with her mouth, taking the opportunity to nuzzle in the warm valley. Janeway laughed after a few moments of this.
"Having trouble finding it?" she asked softly.
"Merely making sure I have detected every crumb," Seven responded warmly, raising her head to gaze into eyes which were bright blue with only the barest trace of grey.
Cupping the captain's cheek in her palm, Seven drew Janeway's face to her, kissing her with intense concentration as she dropped her right hand to the legs draped across her lap, gently stroking the outermost one, slipping under the silken gown to travel along the muscle. Janeway made the humming sound under her breath that she always made when she was becoming aroused, slipping her arms around Seven's neck and returning her kisses with increasing interest.
"Do you want to go into the bedroom?" she asked as the caresses became more specific.
"I believe we are fine where we are," Seven told her. She eased her fingers over the top of Janeway's leg, fingertips running over the soft skin to the tender inner thigh which she stroked lovingly, enticingly.
Janeway inhaled slowly. "We might be more comfortable on the bed," she persisted gently as Seven was soon stymied by the confined situation of the captain's undergarments and their position on the dining nook chair, unable to maneuver to where she wished to be.
"Perhaps you are correct." In one easy motion, she stood, cradling Janeway in her arms as she carried her into the bedroom.
Janeway let out her breath in a huff. "Honestly, no matter how many times you do this, it astounds me each and every time." She kissed her partner's neck. "And I absolutely love it."
"I know," Seven noted, with a touch of smugness. "That is why I do it."
Janeway chuckled as the Borg lowered her to the bed, running her hands along the young woman's arms, trying to pull her down on top of her. Seven resisted, drawing away.
"I must undress."
"Slowly?" Janeway suggested hopefully.
Seven tilted her head, amused by her partner's obvious intent. "Slowly," she agreed as she reached up to the back of her neck and unfastened her biometric outfit, peeling it off her shoulders and arms. She hesitated for a few moments, holding it in front of her torso as she judged Janeway's interest. When the captain moistened her lips as she regarded her avidly, Seven leisurely pushed it down to reveal her breasts and then, her flat, muscled stomach, before pausing again.
Janeway made a small sound of protest when the Borg did not seem inclined to resume and Seven smiled faintly, finally pushing the bunched material over her hips and letting it fall to the floor. Nude, she stood before her partner, unconsciously posing for Janeway who was properly appreciative.
"You're so beautiful," the captain said huskily.
"I am adequate," Seven said as she joined her partner on the bed. "You are beautiful."
"Not many would agree with you."
"Irrelevant." Seven pulled Janeway close to her, delighting in the feel of the captain's silk gown against her bare skin and the warmth of her partner through that. They kissed, deeply and passionately, clinging together on top of the blankets, legs entwining, hearts beginning to beat as one, their respiration increasing to match each other.
Seven slipped her hand beneath the gown to the captain's hip, resting it there momentarily as she kissed her again, thinking that she could easily lose herself in her partner, and never have to worry about anything ever again. If only she could find a way to hold this moment forever and seal herself within it. Reality prevented that of course, but perhaps just the memory of it, the recognition of it, could keep her strong when times were darkest.
Certainly, earlier moments with Kathryn had carried her through this most devastating of experiences and without the precious memories of love and happiness, it would have been a lot more difficult to deal with her pain and anger. She had learned that she could rely on it, and on the woman in her arms, and because of that, she knew nothing would ever defeat her.
Janeway reclined in the warmth and sated satisfaction of afterglow, lying across her spouse in the center of the bed, the blankets pulled up around the couple to shelter them from the night. They had turned off the music and Seven had obligingly gotten out of bed at one point to blow out the candles in the living area. The platter, which still contained a good part of their dinner, had been brought into the bedroom where they finished their aborted meal, spending an inordinate amount of time finding new ways to transfer the pieces of pastry from one to the other. Now, the captain happily snuggled back against the warm cushion of Seven's torso, the Borg's arms encircling the captain, keeping her safe and warm as they rested against the pillows piled high at the head of the bed.
"I believe I like your apologies," Seven said after a while, her voice warmly amused.
Janeway responded with humor. "I'm not in the habit of apologizing often, so you should really appreciate this moment."
"I appreciate every moment with you," Seven told her, and Janeway felt the Borg's lips brush over her temple lovingly.
The captain smiled and stretched a bit, startled when her foot encountered an obstruction in the tangled sheets at the bottom of the bed. She reached down, twisting herself into an uncomfortable position before she was able to lay her fingers on it and pull it from its hiding place.
"Ah," she said, holding up the crumpled remains of her silk gown. "I wondered where it had disappeared to." She examined the seam where it had been parted neatly and efficiently by Seven's left hand. "Darling, you really should take the time to pull this over my head rather than ripping it off me."
Seven raised an eyebrow. "You are the one who always insists that you are in a hurry at that stage of our interaction," she protested mildly. "It is something I do only at your instigation."
"I know, but it costs an extra ration to repair this when I cycle it through the replicator," Janeway said, tossing it grandly in the general direction of the ensuite. "Those add up after awhile. Don't do what I say, next time, but as I wish."
"Yes, Kathryn," Seven said, in the sort of tone that indicated she was indulging her partner rather than actually listening to her.
Janeway elbowed her gently in the stomach which prompted the Borg to start tickling the captain's ribs, making her squirm away desperately to escape, trying to control her laughter. It was the only time the reserved and extremely dignified captain of Voyager actually 'giggled' and it made her completely helpless before her partner, something that both pleased and dismayed her.
"Damn," she said breathlessly, with Seven relenting in her gentle assault as quickly as she had started it, pulling the captain into her arms where she held her tenderly. "That's just not fair. You're not ticklish at all, but you can make me do whatever you want just by threatening to tickle me."
"Yes, but if you scratch my back, I am completely helpless to your every whim. You are fully cognizant of that fact."
"True." Janeway turned in her partner's embrace so she could reach around Seven to do just that, running her nails lightly over the smooth line of the Borg's back.
"Ah," Seven said blissfully, her head falling back. "What is it you wish me to do?"
Janeway laughed. "Nothing," she told her partner playfully, "this time. But it's good to know I have an ace in the hole if I need it."
"Explain," Seven said, her eyes closed as she basked under her partner's caress, wiggling when Janeway found a particularly sensitive spot.
"Why I might need an ace in the hole?"
"What the expression means."
Janeway nuzzled her partner's neck. "It means," she said, her tone slightly muffled, "that it is an advantage I can hold in the event of future opposition."
"I see," Seven noted casually. "Do you expect opposition from me in the future?"
"One never knows," Janeway said lightly, lifting up as Seven shifted position, rolling over to accord the captain greater access to her back. "After all, one should always be prepared for every eventuality."
"I have come to believe that it is a most difficult task," Seven responded sleepily, lying on her stomach now, her head cradled in her arms, her face turned toward her partner who had propped herself up on her right side. "No one can prepare for everything. It is always the unexpected that causes the most grief."
"Agreed," Janeway said softly, wondering if her partner was referring to her recent run-in with the alien. She leaned down and kissed Seven's shoulder blade affectionately. "But the more one prepares, the less unexpected events will occur."
"Perhaps," Seven allowed, not disagreeing exactly, but not fully in accordance with Janeway's view.
The captain smiled and snuggled closer to her partner, easing her head down onto the pillow, her left hand still moving lazily over Seven's back. When Janeway glanced over, she discovered the young woman was regarding her through slitted eyes, the right corner of her mouth curled upward.
"What?" the captain asked softly.
Seven's half-smile widened. "You are so good to me."
Janeway exhaled slowly, changing her caress to the flat of her palm, rubbing it over the young woman's back to soothe the inflamed skin. "Oh, darling," she said, a touch ruefully. "I hope I am. I know there were many times when we first were together that I wasn't all I could have been for you."
"That was before I had you properly trained."
Surprised, Janeway's eyes narrowed and she leaned over to nip the tip of Seven's shoulder, hard enough to leave a red mark. The Borg jerked out of reach, startled.
"I am not that easily trained, my dear," Janeway growled.
"Did I refer to it as 'easy'?" Seven questioned innocently. "Jake was far more amenable, even when he was a puppy."
Janeway laughed. "Damn, I'm not winning any with you at all, tonight. I suppose it's time to surrender." She relaxed on her back and the Borg relented in her teasing, reaching over to wrap the captain up in a sweet embrace.
"We have not played with each other like this for a long time," Seven noted wistfully as she cuddled her partner. "Making love is better when it is playful rather than serious."
"Sometimes," Janeway agreed, tucked up under the young woman's chin. "Adults need to play, too, but for us, it seems that the bed is the only place where we've had the opportunity, lately."
Seven sighed softly. "I want us to spend more time in recreational pursuits. Is that possible?"
Janeway was silent as she considered her partner's words. "There's no question that there are demands on us that others in the crew don't have." A touch of sadness colored her eyes. "Sometimes, that means that we don't have a lot of spare time to spend together."
Seven kissed Janeway gently on her forehead. "I am not saying this to make you feel bad, Kathryn. That is not my intention. I know how hard you have been working, particularly in the last few months. When I consider all that you manage to do, with your command and yourself and always trying to be there for me and our marriage, it is beyond my imagining." She ran her fingertips lightly along the smooth skin of Janeway's upper chest, her face thoughtful. "Yet, I believe it is important for us to take recreational time for ourselves. I am not asking this to make more demands on you, but merely to remind you of its importance."
"I realize its importance, darling," Janeway said quietly, stroking Seven's bicep idly. "And this isn't the first time we've talked about this, but talking about it and actually finding time to manage it are two different things." She smiled suddenly. "You know, you're not exactly the 'laid back' type, either, love. Sometimes, pulling you away from work is the real meaning of futility in being involved with a Borg."
"True." Seven allowed a rueful expression to cross her narrow features. "Instilled in me is the need to be constantly 'busy' all the time. As hard as I try to 'relax', sometimes I am unable to accomplish it."
Janeway stroked the young woman's cheek soothingly. "It's a hard thing to learn, if it's not in your nature." She settled in a little closer to her spouse, letting Seven's warmth absorb her as she sighed softly. "Darling, I think it's all right to be the sort of people who enjoy keeping busy. Granted, sometimes we overwork to the point where we're doing ourselves damage and by all means, we need to keep a check on that by taking time for relaxation. We also need to be very clear on our priorities and that means making a point of spending a significant amount of time together. But meanwhile, there's no reason to feel guilty because we're active people."
"I do not feel guilty," Seven noted with mild surprise. "Did I imply that?"
Janeway laughed. "My mistake." She rubbed her foot up and down Seven's leg, wondering if her partner was really as tired as she sounded or might be interested in further 'play'. "Guess I was thinking of something else."
"I believe I can speculate about the 'something else'. Do you require something?"
Janeway purred a little. "Only if you want the same thing."
Seven appeared to consider it carefully, her face thoughtful and the captain waited for her response impatiently. Seven noted this and made that little snicker in the back of her throat that indicated her amusement, pulling Janeway closer to her.
"I suspect," Seven said, running her hand languidly over the captain's stomach and breasts, "that we must take full advantage of this apology, just as you suggested."
"It's never a good idea to pass up opportunity," the captain agreed cheerfully as Seven gathered her up and rolled onto her back, pulling the captain over on top of her. Janeway's breath caught in her throat as she gazed down into the narrow features of her beloved spouse. "Particularly," she added huskily, "when one never knows what the future will bring."
"Indeed," Seven responded gently. She reached up with her hands, cradling Janeway's face in her palms, kissing her with complete devotion.
Janeway purred happily as her body rested easily on the yielding softness of Seven's breasts and stomach, her legs entwining intimately with the Borg's. Seven's hands trailed down to the captain's shoulders, then slipped along the line of Janeway's back as the kisses went on, soft, absorbing, passionate ... loving. Janeway felt herself sink willingly into this place where there was nothing but her partner's mouth on her own, the lips so tender and sweet, captivating her utterly.
"Sit up," Seven whispered finally. Her tone was urging ... promising.
Obediently, Janeway repositioned herself so that she was straddling Seven's hips, looking down at her partner as she breathed deeply. Placing her hands gently on the Borg's breasts, she caressed them in slow circles, the nipples poking into her palms. She toyed with them, circling the rosy areolas with the tips of her fingers. Seven smiled faintly and reached up with her own caress, using her fingertips to lightly stroke Janeway, rubbing the firm points and sending shivers of delight through the captain. She gasped as she realized the metal tips on Seven's mesh-covered left hand were vibrating subtly, an added stimulation to the velvet soft skin of her nipples.
"Annika?" she murmured in pleased surprise. "How are you doing that?"
Seven's smile widened. "It is a new adaptation with my hand. My implant has a function for cleaning small compartments by emitting sonic waves. By damping down the intensity to the lowest level, I can provide a sensation in my fingertips much like the vibration setting in the wonder wand."
Janeway inhaled slowly. "My goodness," she said huskily. "Whatever made you come up with that application?"
Seven actually showed her teeth in this smile. "You inspire me to be constantly innovative, in order to find new ways to please you."
"Oh, darling," Janeway murmured, "The old ways work fine."
"Do you object to this new adaptation?"
Janeway paused, then smiled wickedly as she felt Seven's fingertips, humming merrily, moved languidly over the underside of her breasts, then down her stomach to the inside of her thighs. "Not at all, my love. By all means, test the limits of your innovation."
Seven smiled again and Janeway closed her eyes, her head falling back and she made an involuntary sound as Seven gently stroked the length of her inner leg, from her knee to the very tender skin just below the junction of her legs.
"Oh, Annika," she whispered, squeezing the full breasts in her grip, the flesh spilling over her hands. Trembling at the intriguing and arousing sensations that the metal tips were causing on her skin and nerve endings, she had to force herself to keep from urging Seven to quicken her pace, knowing it was better this way even though she thought she would go mad. "It feels so good."
"I want you to feel good, my Kathryn. Better than anyone else has ever made you feel."
"You do," Janeway responded fervently, her head falling forward as Seven gently slipped her fingers along the captain's crease. "No one has ever loved me like you do."
She jerked and moaned as Seven traced the swollen lips, then the Borg carefully parted them and abruptly, the metal fingertips were touching the little bundle of nerves, vibrating with shattering results over the acutely sensitive nubbin. The captain's eyes flew open and she stared, wide-eyed, down into the enthralled expression of her partner who was watching Janeway avidly.
"Oh, god, love, that's ... oh god..." Janeway felt her heart pound, the pleasure arcing through her like a electrical spark from Seven's fingers, singing along each individual nerve ending. "Annika ... god ... don't stop..."
Seven looked remarkably pleased by this response but did not comment on it. Instead, she continued to carefully fondle the tiny protrusion and the cry Janeway made next was not coherent at all, but merely a sound of pleasure and delight. She made another as Seven penetrated her with her other hand, two fingers slipping into her lovingly, pushing into the captain deeply, flexing with a rhythm that seemed to match the throbbing of the metal Borg digits. Janeway rocked on the younger woman, unable to keep from moving against the maddening sensation. As her climax crashed over her, she cried out loudly, the sensation seeming to last forever. It did not cease until weakly, barely able to control her motion, she was able to pull herself away from Seven's hand.
"Too much," she moaned, curling up into the loving arms as she collapsed on her partner and Seven held her tightly, comfortingly as she eased them both over onto their sides, tucking the captain up under her chin.
"It is all right, Kathryn," Seven told her, her tone concerned. "I will not do this again."
Janeway fought for breath, feeling her pounding heart gradually slow. "Well, let's not go that far," she muttered, swallowing hard. "It was just a little intense there for a minute."
Seven hugged her, faintly distressed. "It is difficult for me to know when to stop. You did not tell me."
"I couldn't," Janeway responded honestly. "You left me speechless, darling." She managed a weak chuckle and rose up long enough to kiss her partner, sensing her dismay. "Annika, it was wonderful. It just ... overwhelmed me for a moment. We'll need to experiment a bit more with it." She reached down and captured the Borg hand in her own, bringing it up to her lips, where she kissed each silver-capped fingertip tenderly, tasting herself on the cool metal. "It was simply amazing."
Seven lost the dismayed shadow in her eyes and looked pleased again. "Acceptable."
Janeway smiled at her and leaned over, kissing her lingeringly as her hands roamed over the young woman. "Now, how can I give you an equally amazing experience?"
Gently, but firmly, Seven restrained the captain's hands. "I do not require anything, right now."
Janeway blinked. "Are you sure?"
"I am sure," Seven assured her. "You are tired and so am I. I was merely interested in determining the functionality of my new adaptation." She paused and smiled. "We have already had a very ... extensive evening and we both have duty tomorrow morning."
Janeway hesitated, and then sighed softly as she settled against her partner, feeling sudden weariness seep over her once she allowed herself to think about it. She had to admit to herself that she was a little relieved and grateful that her spouse was less than interested in continuing ... that last encounter had drained Janeway of a lot of energy ... but she still felt a trifle guilty. "I'll make it up to you, darling," she promised drowsily.
"I know you will," Seven told her, her tone amused. "You always do." She stroked Janeway's back languidly, to soothe rather than arouse. "I am gratified that you were pleased by my adaptation."
"Oh, very much so," Janeway smiled and squeezed her. She paused, then added; "Darling, can I make a suggestion?"
"Certainly," Seven assented readily.
"The next time you come up with an idea like this? Maybe you should try it out on yourself first ... just to get a sense of how incredibly intense it is. That might give you a better understanding of how much I can take so you won't overwhelm me."
Sever looked thoughtful. "That is an excellent idea. I did not think of that." She hesitated, then glanced at her partner teasingly. "Would you care to observe such future experiments?"
Janeway laughed. "You offer the nicest incentives, darling. I'd be more than glad to act as your check ... for purely scientific purposes, of course."
"Of course," Seven agreed, smiling faintly. She kissed Janeway's forehead. "Sleep now, my Kathryn. I love you."
"I love you," Janeway murmured, feeling warm and safe and completely adored in these arms. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to fall asleep, thinking that finally, perhaps they would get through the rest of this night undisturbed.
Seven of Nine glanced up from her work console in astrometrics as she heard a muted beep on the communications system and immediately, she hailed the bridge.
"Seven to bridge," she said, her hands flying over her board. "Incoming transmission on the emergency Starfleet channel."
"Put it through," Janeway's voice returned and Seven could easily detect the excitement and pleasure in it. Obediently, the Borg transferred the incoming communication to the bridge and listened in avidly, as she was sure everyone on the bridge was doing.
"Starfleet Command to USS Voyager. Come in, Voyager."
"This is Captain Janeway. Go ahead, Starfleet Command."
"This is Lt. Reginald Barclay, Captain. We only have a limited allotment of time on the Mutara Inter-dimensional Deep-space transponder Array, so this will be a packet burst. It includes several personal letters for your crew as well as several items pertaining to Starfleet Operations."
Seven decided that made sense. As important as this was to the crew of Voyager, the MIDAS construct was an interstellar monitoring system that was constantly utilized by not only Starfleet, but a variety of Federation civilian scientific projects considered absolutely crucial to far more people than was talking to one little ship lost in the Delta Quadrant. In fact, Seven knew that many projects were backed up as much as a decade in some cases. To appropriate time to communicate with Voyager probably required a great deal of cutting through red tape and string-pulling by Starfleet Command and it was not surprising that the communication was so limited.
"That's welcome news, Lieutenant," Janeway said warmly. "We're ready to receive. We're sending you our most recent logs in return."
"We will attempt to contact you again at the beginning of next month and hope to continue that monthly communication on a regular basis." Barclay paused and then added in a gentler voice, "We're not giving up, Captain. We'll get you home somehow."
There was the tiniest of catches in Janeway's voice as she responded, though Seven didn't know if anyone but she was able to pick up on it.
"Thank you, Lt. Barclay."
"Starfleet Command out."
Seven took note of the gigaquads of information that had been downloaded into her console and began the task of organizing it. In addition to the letters, there were several high classification files ... no doubt intended for the captain's eyes only, and she resisted the urge to check them out ... a list of files that apparently included a history of the Federation for the past six years, and, to her surprise, a list of recreational holoprograms and novels. She hadn't realized entertainment would be such a high priority for Starfleet.
The door hissed open behind her and she glanced back, seeing both Janeway and Chakotay enter astrometrics, bright expressions on their faces. She obligingly handed Janeway the padd containing the classified files and the one containing the Federation news files to Chakotay.
"I intend to transmit the various private communiqués to the appropriate personal work stations," Seven offered. "Unlike before, when I was required to painstakingly reproduce the information, this is a clean transmission and I will not need to review the contents."
"Good idea," Janeway said, obviously happy at the news. Her eyes were a bright blue and Seven wondered how exhausted the Borg would end up being this night. When the captain was in a good mood, her desire rose accordingly and Seven could expect a certain amount of 'celebrating'. She tingled pleasantly at the thought. Janeway looked anxiously at her board. "Was there anything else?"
"They also included several recreational programs," Seven added, her tone vaguely puzzled.
Chakotay smiled broadly. "That's terrific. Download them directly into the computer database. I know a few people who desperately need to try them." He glanced at the captain. "This will do morale a world of good."
"Inform the crew as to what's going on," Janeway told him. "Let them know that this will be a regular occurrence and that, while I understand their desire to read any private messages as quickly as possible, they must have someone covering their posts when they do so or otherwise, they must wait until the end of their duty shifts."
"Discipline matters," he agreed. "Especially now."
He left astrometrics and Seven glanced at the captain. "We both have private correspondence. I believe the letters are from Gretchen and Phoebe. At least, the name Janeway is on the return address."
The captain closed her eyes briefly and Seven realized that the good news had temporarily staggered the other woman with its import. With Chakotay's exit and only the two of them here, the captain could finally reveal it through the command mask. Disregarding protocol, the Borg reached out and pulled her spouse to her with one arm, hugging her strongly. For once, Janeway did not resist, wrapping her arms around the young woman's waist and burying her face in the hollow of Seven's neck. Holding her tightly, Seven used her other hand to continue her work until finally, Janeway pulled away, once more composed.
"We are still twenty years away," Seven reminded her with great gentleness.
"I know." Janeway smiled wistfully. "That fact is going to sink in eventually, not only with me, but the rest of the crew. I hope Sek is up to it."
"I am sure she is," Seven replied, not quite understanding the full extent of what the captain meant.
"I have to get back to the bridge." Janeway hesitated, then reached up and fleetingly drew her knuckles along Seven's cheek. "I'll see you at home later."
Seven inclined her head, her eyes keen as she watched her partner leave and wondered how, if the very self-possessed captain had been so affected by this communication, the rest of the ship was faring.
She found out when her duty shift ended and she made her way back to deck three. Sek had contacted her and rescheduled their session, letting Seven off her shift an hour early, since Jennifer Delaney was already covering astrometrics. There seemed to be an impromptu party going on through the various corridors and several times, the Borg saw crewmembers gathered in small groups, talking with what seemed to be great excitement. Several were reading out loud from padds, obviously sharing the messages they had received from home and she wondered why this was so different from the last time Voyager had received mail. She thought about it and concluded that unlike that incident, when not everyone received a message of some sort, leaving out certain of the crew, this was a ship-wide contact, with everyone being included. No one felt guilty about getting mail when their roommate didn't, there was no distortion of the letters, no interrupted communication, no missing mail ... everyone seemed to have received something. If not an actual letter from a loved one, then at least, a copy of the news files that revealed all the various events of the past six years. It was more like it had been when she, B'Elanna and Chakotay had returned from the alpha quadrant, but even that had been subdued in comparison to this. Perhaps because the ship had believed the trio dead and the excitement of their return had been tempered by the lingering memory of that mourning. There was no sorrow here, only great joy and enthusiasm.
She entered the captain's quarters and was greeted by an enthusiastic Irish Setter. Either Jake had picked up on the crew's excitement somehow or he had not been taken for his daily outing. Seven suspected the latter and checked the chronometer. Janeway would not be home for a while, so Seven left a note for her, and took down the leash, beckoning the animal to accompany her as she hooked one end to the collar about his neck. She could not expect him to heel properly when there was so much traffic in the corridors, and she suspected that the 'park' would be full. She took him down to the lowest deck of the ship that were devoid of celebrating crew and let him loose, tossing his ball for him in a long, auxiliary corridor until he was panting and refused to give her the ball, dropping to his belly on the deck and gnawing on it.
The corridors were even busier now that the alpha shift was completely over, and she felt a bit crowded, reaching the sanctity of her quarters with a stifled sigh of relief. Janeway was at the workstation, downloading data into padds and Seven had a pretty good idea as to what information the captain was so avid to peruse. Janeway would not have read her letter before finishing her duty, not after requesting that her crew maintain their discipline about waiting until the end of their shifts. Her face was a bit anxious as she handed Seven one of the padds and then moved over to the couch. Seven hesitated long enough to release Jake, who went over to his water dish, lapping up the liquid gratefully.
Janeway regarded her brightly as she joined her spouse on the sofa, but there was also a rueful expression on her face. "I'm too excited to read this."
Seven raised an eyebrow. "Would you like me to read mine first? Out loud?"
"If you'd like," Janeway said, going for a tone of casualness, but only succeeding in conveying the distinct impression that she would like nothing better.
Seven smiled faintly and studied her padd.
"Apparently, it is from Phoebe." Seven inhaled deeply and began to read: "Hey, Little Sister ..." She paused, "that is what she calls me."
Janeway smiled. "I know," she said quietly. She relaxed against the cushions and threw her head back, her eyes closed, obviously granting Seven her full listening attention, not wanting any of her other senses to distract her. Seven resumed her recitation, reading the text from the padd's tiny screen. With bandwidth from MIDAS still limited, the message was in written form alone, with no visual or oral accompaniment.
"Hey, Little Sister,
Mom is writing Kathryn so I thought I would write to you with all the news she will probably leave out. I tell you, we were really surprised when Starfleet delivered those letters from you a month ago. I don't know who was more excited, Mom or myself. I'm really flattered that you consider me family enough to choose me as one of the people you wrote to in your project. But you know, if you'd like me to contact your actual blood family, the Hansens, I'd be more than happy to do that for you. I think they would love to know how you're doing on Voyager since they last saw you."
Seven paused, frowning. "I do not believe I like that idea. I was not impressed with my relatives."
"You should still probably give it some thought," Janeway suggested gently. "They're your family, Annika, and you are the only link to the past that your grandparents have of Erin and Magnus."
Seven did not think her opinion would change, but obligingly she dropped the subject and continued on with the letter.
"My showing went wonderfully and I appreciate that you were sorry you missed it, but, honestly, don't feel bad, Annika. All you really missed was a bunch of pseudo-intellectuals standing around making snarky comments on stuff they didn't really understand. You wouldn't have had any patience for them. Though hearing you dissect their flowery prose with your devastating logic would have been far more entertaining than the actual reception.
I'm really glad to hear you're keeping busy on Voyager but are you sure you want to take Starfleet courses? Annika, I can hook you up with the Terran University of Art & Design where I teach courses on modern expressionism. I think that would be far more in tune with what you should be exploring as a form of study."
Seven frowned again. "Art courses?"
Janeway's smile widened. "Phoebe tends to have little use for science, and in particular, Starfleet science." She raised an eyebrow. "So Phoebe's teaching now? That's new." But she did not elaborate on the comment and Seven returned to her reading.
"In the meantime, I've sent along several stills of my latest work. I hope you can reproduce them and hang them on your walls. To be honest, your visit here was a source of great inspiration to me and I was able to produce several canvases. I'm calling it the Seven Series.
Starfleet has told us that they expect we will be able to send letters on a regular basis to you, even though we're restricted in the size of them and how many each person is allowed to send. Next time, Mom will be writing you and I'll write Kathryn. Let me know about contacting your grandparents for you. I love you, babe. You take care of yourself and my big sister. Don't let her get away with anything. Tell her that I love her, but don't make a big deal out of it. She'll only be insufferable about it.
-Phoebe"
Seven looked at the small thumbnail reproductions on the padd, seeing nothing more than several splashes of color. She realized that only by blowing them up to original size and reproducing them on hard copy, would she have a true sense of what they looked like. She glanced over at Janeway who had a rather blissful smile on her face. Indeed, it did seem that the captain had acquired a little bit of an insufferable air about her.
"Will you read your letter now?" Seven thought she was beginning to understand the appeal to receiving mail. It was almost as if Phoebe had been speaking to her and it made her feel very close to her sister-in-law.
Janeway passed over the padd. "Read it to me, please," she requested softly. It was almost as if Kathryn was nervous about the contents ... so nervous that she didn't want to face it directly.
Bemused, Seven accepted the padd and began to read from it.
"Dearest Kathryn,
When Starfleet Command delivered the letters from you and Annika, I must admit, I was greatly overwhelmed. For too long, it seemed that such communication from official channels contained only bad news, Seven's last visit to Deep Space Nine, notwithstanding. I can't tell you how pleased and thrilled I was to read the letters you wrote to me. Yet, even as I did, I could not help but think that they were perhaps letters that you never intended to send. I cannot remember you ever being so open and forthcoming with your thoughts and dreams before, particularly in written form. Maybe I'm not giving you enough credit for how much you trust me, or perhaps being married to Annika has changed you far more than even I could have anticipated, but I do want you to know how very privileged and honored I feel to have received such deep and profound messages from you."
Seven cast a surreptitious glance at her partner to discover that Janeway was blushing deeply and she wondered what exactly had been in the letters Kathryn had sent to her mother. Had Gretchen's speculation been correct? Had the captain never really intended her mother to read the letters she'd written?
"I hope that I can respond in kind. The thing between mothers and daughters is that one rarely gets to know the other as an individual, as another woman who very often shares the same hopes, fears, dreams and aspirations that the other does. I especially appreciate your newfound desire to have children, Kathryn. I know once one finds the right person to love, one wants to expand that love to the new life that you can create together. It is an instinct that goes beyond the intellectual It is a soul deep desire that one either has or does not. It is natural that you would also experience it, especially with all the newborns on your ship. I want you to know that I think you would be a wonderful mother. There is a great kindness and compassion about you that I believe you do not give yourself enough credit for. Any child would benefit greatly from it.
And you're right, I've often worried in the past that you would choose an unsuitable romantic partner. Too often with the men you brought home, I experienced the sense that you were attempting to recreate something that did not really exist, that the relationship had much less to do with who these men were, but what they were in terms of personality and attitude ... and who they reminded you of. With Annika, I've finally lost that concern. It's clear that she has been a tremendous influence on you as well as being something to you that I don't think even you recognize. She's repaired a part of your soul that had been torn asunder and did so in a way that no one else could. Obviously, I was worried for nothing. You knew exactly who and what you needed all along. I'm so happy for you. In the situation you're in, there could be no one better than Annika to help you through it, and no one better to love you for who you truly are.
I'm aware that command weighs heavily on you at times, just as it did your father. In a lot of ways, you were always more his child than mine. Yet, I also feel that you were able to get the best parts of him and avoid most of what caused him so much grief. I'm very grateful for that. I've also come to realize how much you suffered from your father's absences, sometimes, far more than Phoebe and I did. I know it made what eventually happened even more traumatic for you. Kathryn, I hope you understand that I never blamed you for anything that happened. I never once thought that you had ever let me or Edward down. You were our joy and our pride and that has never changed since the day you were born.
I'm so proud of you, Kathryn. You have turned into a most remarkable and impressive being, far better than I, as your parent, could have hoped for. I love you dearly, and when you and Annika finally return, I intend to not only attend the renewal of your wedding vows, but to help plan every detail. Isn't that the privilege of a mother? Take good care of yourself, and tell Annika how much I love her. I will be writing to her in the next communication because we are limited in how many letters each individual could send as well as the length of the letters. I hope that will change in the future. There is so much I want to tell you. Phoebe also sends you her love. We both miss you very much.
-Mother"
Seven inhaled deeply when she finished and looked over at her partner. She did not understand everything that Gretchen had been referring to, but she trusted that Kathryn did ... especially when she saw the tears slipping silently down her spouse's cheeks. There was joy there, she recognized, but also a fair measure of sorrow and some unidentifiable emotion that the Borg would perhaps never really understand. Silently, she reached over and gathered Kathryn up in her arms, rocking her gently as the captain wept. Afterward, they sat together on the sofa for a long time, Janeway snuggled up to Seven's chest, her head tucked neatly under the Borg's chin. Idly, Seven stroked the auburn hair, not saying anything, but letting her partner know that she was there for her in every way she could be, emotionally, intellectually, physically, and spiritually.
Everything she was, she would give to Kathryn willingly, and never regret a single second of anything that was taken from her.
Epilogue
Captain Janeway regarded her computer as if it were an enemy, not knowing how to begin her next task. Her mother had surprised her, being far more open with her than Kathryn had ever experienced before, motivated no doubt, by all those very personal, highly intimate letters her daughter had sent to her. One would think that all the captain had to do to respond was to continue in the same vein as she had been writing before, but now that Kathryn knew they would actually be read, she found it difficult to write. She felt extremely self-conscious and couldn't find that ease with which she had shared her feelings only a week or so earlier.
Perhaps if she kept the subject to Seven, she decided. That was a topic she never tired of discussing and it was possible if she was effusive enough about her partner, her mother would not notice that she was not sharing anything in particular about herself. She wondered if she should take some time to speak with Sek about this, shying away from the idea almost before it had finished formulating in her mind. That wouldn't work either, she decided without hesitation, not bothering to examine why the thought was so immediately repugnant to her.
She inhaled slowly and carefully reached out, touching her console to activate it.
"Dear Mother," she began, after clearing her throat which keyed the computer to begin recording. "It was so wonderful to hear from you after so long. I think I'm going to enjoy having you to talk to again, particularly when it comes to things that I can't talk to other people about. Let me explain to you what happened to Seven recently and perhaps you could give me some advice on how to help her. It seems that I am unable to be all I want to be for her and if you could find a way to ease my concerns, I would be forever grateful..."
The End