Just Between Perceptions
G.L. Dartt
The bed was absolutely gigantic.
It was round and three times the size of any bed that Captain Kathryn Janeway of the USS Voyager had ever seen. It rested in a stone grotto next to a burbling fountain, the private garden surrounded by roses and other flowering plants that filled the air with a pleasant, but not overly heavy scent. A profusion of candles lining the rock formations lit the evening with a flickering, romantic illumination, reflecting off the fountain's pool like stars as a warm, gentle breeze flowed over the captain's naked skin like the whisper of a thousand butterfly wings.
As holoprograms went, Janeway thought it was one of her better efforts, and since the person she had specifically designed it for had espoused the belief that it was quite ... "acceptable" ... the captain decided to be satisfied with it. She smiled and glanced at the woman sprawled over the sheets beside her, her long, lanky, nude body a streak of gold and silver against the midnight blue linen. Seven of Nine, late of the Borg Collective, raised her eyebrow inquiringly, hands linked neatly on her stomach as she waited patiently for Janeway to make up her mind.
Because they were in this artificial reality, the entire catalogue of items listed in the ship's entertainment replicator buffer were available for use. A plethora of those selections were spread out on the bed around the couple as the captain and Seven looked them over, seeking something that would be new and different to add variety to their love life. In fact, it was considered a wise idea to try out any type of 'accessory' in the holodeck before actually replicating a more permanent version. Janeway grinned fondly as she picked up a Wonder Wand 9000™, casting a mischievous look at her partner. Somehow, she doubted that the young woman had done a 'test drive' on the device before she spent 375 rations replicating one for the couple's personal use.
Seven smiled faintly. "It would be inefficient to utilize an item that we can use at any time under normal circumstances. It is wasteful of the holodeck time you arranged."
"Agreed. Besides, we've pretty much determined it's no good for you. I want something that you can enjoy."
Seven looked intrigued but skeptical. "Me? Why?"
Janeway offered her a bashful smile. "I'll admit that part of it is just me wanting to know what it would be like to be inside you ... like that ... even if it's only once. I promise, though, I would never do anything to hurt you."
"I know that, Kathryn. That is not the slightest concern for me." Seven considered it. "I do admit ... I have been curious to experience what you seem to enjoy so much. If only to discover if I would find it equally as pleasurable."
Janeway patted her on the leg. "Thank you, darling. I'm not saying we'll find anything you'll enjoy, but we should take a look at what's available while we have the opportunity. It's not often that I can arrange for four hours of private holodeck time at once."
"What do you suggest?"
"We need something that operates like the wonder wand as far as transmitting sensitivity to the wearer," Janeway said, scientifically going through the selection, "yet is no longer than the length of my right middle finger and no thicker than the width of two of my fingers." She grinned with a touch of smugness. "I did the measurements personally."
Seven did not smile exactly, but there was a brief indication of pink staining her cheeks and a small upturn to her lips.
"Will it be able to change color?"
Janeway did not roll her eyes, but she wanted to. "I don't know." She paused and added reluctantly, "If it has that feature, you can choose the color."
Seven looked satisfied at that. She sat up, studying the selection Kathryn had been perusing. "What about that one?"
She picked out a short, thin probe, holding up a phallus colored a bright neon orange, rather like the traffic cones used in ground-side construction on Human inhabited planets. Janeway winced and checked the padd nearby to find out what the device featured.
"Hmm, it vibrates but there's no sensitivity capability to the wearer. And that's the color we'd be stuck with."
"That would not work well for you." Seven picked out another one, a bright yellow cylinder that wobbled a little as she held it up. "This?"
"A little ... limp ... for our purposes." Janeway eyed it skeptically. "And ... well, frankly, Seven, I would like one that looks like ... what it should, not a banana."
Seven raised an eyebrow. "A Human male penis? Are you not limiting yourself unnecessarily with aesthetics?"
Janeway blushed faintly. "Aesthetics are very important, darling. That's why I am so ... specific ... when it comes to programming the settings of the wand. I want it to look like it ... I mean, it should appear as if..." She trailed off uncertainly, not knowing how to say it.
"As if I had generated it purely on my own?" Seven finished for her dryly.
Janeway's flush deepened. "Something like that."
"Are we not simply talking about a matter of superficial perception?"
Janeway spread her hands out. "Sometimes, how we perceive something dictates how we react to it. I'm not saying it makes logical sense, it's just how it is sometimes."
"Very well," Seven allowed with that remarkably patient tone she assumed whenever she was indulging an incomprehensible whim of her partner. She looked over the selection with more care this time, and finally chose one that seemed to meet Janeway's criteria. "Here. It has the proper size dimensions, it apparently transmits sensitivity to the wearer, and the neutral shade indicates it has a color function."
"It has a chameleon function," Janeway corrected, checking the padd. "It takes on the skin tone of the wearer, but I can't make it neon blue for you, darling."
"Unfortunate, but we only have three hours and twenty-six minutes remaining in our alloted time. We must choose something if we are to do this."
"Computer, delete all the accessories but the..." Janeway hesitated over the name, "...the Mini Marvel 450™. Provide a jar of sexual lubricant as well."
The remaining selection of sexual aides disappeared, replaced by a small jar. Janeway immediately placed the end of her chosen device against her genitals, the bands erupting from the base to surround her hips, securing it firmly over her clitoris. She stroked a fingertip along its short length, realizing that the sensitivity was far more than she would have preferred. It immediately increased her heart rate, pleasure shooting through her with a sharp chill. The setting was as unalterable as the size. She would just have to control her responses, she decided. Surely, she was capable of doing that.
Breathing deeply, she leaned back on her elbows, waiting as the narrow little probe slowly lost the greyish, neutral color that was its dormant state, and gradually altered until it matched Janeway's skin tone. It looked so oddly defiant, sprouting proudly in all its modest proportions from the auburn thatch at the juncture of the captain's legs, that Janeway had to bite her lip hard to keep from snickering.
"It is far more inefficient than the wonder wand," Seven noted, a hint of disapproval coloring her tone as they were forced to wait. She was lounging on her side, propped up on her elbow, as she regarded the device with cool antipathy.
Janeway swallowed back her laugh. "I'm sure if it gets the job done, that's all that matters." She looked over at her partner, her expression becoming sensual as she took in the long length of her beautiful blonde Borg. "Come here."
Seven hesitated, teasing, and then smiled as she reached out for her, pulling the captain into her arms. Janeway gasped as she felt the probe press against the Borg's naval, and groaned pleasurably as her partner covered her mouth with her own, the pair rolling lavishly around the gigantic bed. This was a large part of the evening's fun, the captain realized. There was just so much room on this mattress, and she wished that their quarters were big enough to accommodate such a huge piece of furniture.
They finally settled onto their sides in the exact center of the bed, kissing deeply as their hands moved over each other languidly. They didn't rush at all, which Janeway knew would be an error. She wanted to be sure her beloved spouse was completely ready for what they were about to do. Certainly, she understood that there had to be a little hesitancy on Seven's part, particularly after their abortive attempt to utilize the wonder wand on their wedding night. The device's dimensions had turned out to be far too large for the young woman's comfort, actually hurting her slightly before Janeway realized what was happening. Despite Seven's absolute trust in her spouse, the captain knew the young woman would naturally be reluctant to engage in this experience, and Janeway was determined to proceed as slowly as her partner required. If they ended up going over their holodeck time ... well, no one else on the ship could get past the security codes she had placed on the door seal.
Sometimes, one just had to use command privilege.
She brushed her lips over Seven's ear, whispering softly as her fingers stroked the young woman, fondling her with intimate intent, telling her how good this was going to be. Seven moaned in response, either at the words or from the caress, moisture bathing the captain's hand. Carefully taking into account the young woman's respiration, the quivers rippling through her body and the amount of wetness she was generating, Janeway decided it was time. Carefully, she nudged her partner over onto her back, easing on top of her where she continued to kiss and fondle her. Seven's legs spread naturally, opening for the caresses, and taking her time, Janeway slipped her first finger into the young woman, Probing gently, she gradually added her middle one, further preparing the Borg as she slowly moved them in and out while her thumb brushed over the firm little ridge.
After several glorious moments of this, Janeway had to take a few seconds to find the jar that had been displaced by their motion, finally discovering it near their feet. She opened it and scooped up a generous amount of the silky, gelatinous oil, slathering it over the probe, and lavishly rubbing it over Seven as well. In doing so, the captain discovered that it was considerably harder to control herself than she had initially thought, panting heavily as she positioned herself over the blonde Borg. Resting her weight on her elbows and knees, she placed the little mushroom head at the opening and pressed against Seven. She found the initial entry easy, though Seven gasped and jerked convulsively at the penetration. Janeway stopped with the bulbous tip just inside, waiting breathlessly, though it was incredibly difficult for her to do so. The very thought of the intimate passions awaiting the sensitive probe infused every molecule of the captain with desire, and sent tremors of pleasure all through her, the sensors transmitting every sensation directly to her bundle of nerves. It took all her indomitable willpower not to thrust forward, not to take the plunge and be totally engulfed by that delicious heat.
"Kathryn?".
"I'm right here, darling," Janeway responded, her voice shaking. "Do you want me to stop?"
A hesitation before Seven shook her head. "No," she said in a low voice. "I can adapt."
Janeway swallowed hard and studied her partner's face as she eased the rest of the way in, ready to stop at the slightest hint of resistance. The sensation of clinging walls was like liquid fire searing through her and she groaned, feeling herself surrounded and loving every millimeter it took to finally reach the entire ... if abbreviated ... length of it.
"God, darling, is this what you feel when you use the wand on me?" She gazed down at her partner with wide eyes. "Oh, heavens, now I understand why men love us so."
Seven swallowed, her voice uncertain. "It feels so odd, Kathryn. So much larger than I expected."
Concerned, the captain stopped all motion, anxiously meeting the pale gaze. "Is it hurting you?"
Seven considered it, and decided to test it by squeezing her internal muscles. Pleasure blasted through Janeway as the channel closed about her, wringing another, involuntary moan of delight from her lips.
"No," Seven replied with cool dissatisfaction. "But it is not particularly pleasant, either. I do not understand why you enjoy this."
Janeway tried to catch her breath. She was disappointed, but not about to do anything to cause her partner discomfort. "I understand, darling. I just wanted to feel this once, and now that I know exactly what you feel on your end when you use the wand, I'll enjoy the experience even more. Of course, I absolutely adore the sensation of having you inside me."
"But that is not me," Seven protested. "It is a device."
"Not at the time you're loving me with it," Janeway corrected gently, wondering why she had never explained this before. "When you use it, I completely believe that it's you inside me, Annika, not some artificial device, not a toy, but truly you, an extension of your body. That's why I've always enjoyed this particular act with all of my lovers, because our joining was a part of them, not something separate. In our case, it's not until afterward that I'm reminded it is only a device, and that's why it feels intrusive at that point."
She began to withdraw, but Seven forestalled the motion, placing her hand on the small Janeway's back, and holding her in place. "Wait," she said, her face thoughtful. "I must consider this."
Janeway blinked and remained where she was, completely immersed in her partner and more than glad to prolong the sensation for as long as Seven would allow it. It really did feel incredible, and the way Seven continued to adjust to the dimensions, the warm pulsations of muscle and flesh around what was essentially an extension of Janeway's own center of pleasure, served to set the captain aflame. She wanted desperately to move, to rub herself back and forth within her partner, but she didn't, remaining completely still except for the occasional tremor that rippled through her body.
"That is sufficient motivation to continue," Seven decided finally. "I will attempt to welcome ... you ... into myself." She reached up and cupped Janeway's face in her hands, kissing her softly. "I love you, Kathryn. Please, stay inside me until we are both satisfied."
"It might take some time," Janeway murmured. "Not that I'm complaining or anything."
Seven nuzzled her gently, slipping her arms around the captain's neck. "You feel wonderful," she whispered, obviously trying hard to make that final leap of faith for her partner. "Hold me, Kathryn, please hold me."
Janeway tightened her embrace and wiggled deeper, but she didn't start the in-and-out motion that her body was demanding. Instead, she forced herself to remain where she was, cradled on top of the lovely length of Seven, cushioned by the luscious breasts and flat stomach, the long legs bracketing her hips, feeling every millimeter of the warm channel squeezing so pleasurably around her. She continued to kiss her partner, soft, tender, devoted kisses, whispering words of love and adoration, carefully steering clear of any profanity as she told Seven again and again how very much she cherished her, how good it felt to share such intimacy with her.
Once again, the captain was presented with proof that great lovemaking originated in the mind and not the body. Seven's breathing gradually increased in rhythm, becoming tiny gasps, and she started to undulate beneath the captain, almost as if she were trying to pull Janeway even deeper inside her, though the captain could clearly feel the blunt head of the probe pressing against the blocked tissue within the Borg. It appeared that Seven had finally accepted the concept of this being Janeway inside her, and with that acknowledgment, she was able to appreciate the experience they were sharing, not necessarily because it was better than anything else they had done before, but because it was just as loving, just as capable of arousing and pleasuring her.
To further that pleasure, the captain lifted up briefly so that she could reach between them and fondle Seven's ridge of pleasure, brushing her fingertips back and forth over it. The yielding sheath around the probe quickly became liquid heat as a result of this stimulation, completely accommodating for Janeway. Eventually the captain eased her full weight back onto the Borg, bracing herself with her arms cradling Seven's shoulders. She began to move, sliding in and out of her partner with slow, lingering, gentle strokes, being extremely careful not to become too energetic, realizing how little length she had to work with to create this experience for her partner.
It took several minutes, but before Janeway realized what was happening, Seven was climaxing around the firm little erection. It was a powerful orgasm, shaking her entire body, and the sheer novelty of the sensation caught the captain completely off guard. The way the young woman's interior fluttered about the probe left Janeway helpless in her response, unable to resist as she cried out loudly. Instinctively, she thrust her hips forward, burying herself as deeply as she could in her partner, feeling her own explosion impact damply all the way to the top of her head as Seven clung to her, wrapping her long legs around the captain's hips, holding her tight. It took a few moments for Janeway's heart to slow its pounding, her sweat slick skin cooling in the night, both women breathing heavily in the flickering candlelight.
"God, not much wonder men try so hard sometimes ... we feel so incredibly wonderful when that happens."
"I understand now, Kathryn," Seven whispered. She paused, swallowing. "This is not particularly anything I wish to experience on a regular basis ... it took a great deal of concentration to maintain the illusion that it was really you ... but I believe I comprehend your enjoyment of the wonder wand a great deal better now. This was merely another part of you making love to me in a different way."
"I'm glad, darling," Janeway responded, kissing her lovingly. "I adore it when we can share our experiences."
Seven shifted uncomfortably. "However, I also understand why you wish it gone afterward. It does become intrusive once the fantasy has ended."
Janeway chuckled and very gently withdrew, realizing after the fact that she simply could have instructed the computer to delete the accessory while still inside the Borg. However, withdrawing from Seven so slowly had its own pleasure and she wasn't sorry she did it, particularly if this might be the only opportunity for her to experience the sensation. She did a brief visual inspection of both the probe and Seven, making sure there was no trace of blood to indicate she might have damaged any tissue ... Seven had technically been a virgin after all ... before deleting the device entirely.
The Borg's arms enfolding her were like a homecoming and Janeway snuggled into them, hugging her spouse close as they rolled around a bit more on the mattress, simply because it felt so good to do so.
Janeway laughed and kissed her tenderly. "How do you feel? Are you sore?"
Seven raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps a little." She eyed Janeway slyly. "Would you 'kiss it and make it better'?"
Startled at the unexpected humor, Janeway laughed.
"I'd like nothing better, love," she murmured and pulled her close. "For the rest of the night if you'd like."
Ensign Culhean stood outside the holodeck, impatiently waiting his turn at holodeck two. The current users had already gone over their time by a good twenty minutes, and there was a security seal to prevent anyone from interrupting, not even with a hail over the comm badges. He frowned with irritation, realizing it was not unusual for people to slide over their allotted time on occasion, but why did it always have to happen to him? Especially this evening when he had finally gotten his hands on one of the new game programs from the lot Starfleet had sent in a recent communique. He couldn't wait to try it out, shifting impatiently on his feet, and started abruptly as the doors opened to reveal Captain Janeway and Seven of Nine, both women immaculately garbed in their respective uniforms, every hair in place as it always was.
He immediately smoothed out his face, realizing abruptly that the people hogging the holodeck were the captain and her spouse. He guessed he couldn't complain about it, though a part of him really wanted to.
To his surprise however, Janeway came over, an expression of sincere regret on her face.
"I apologize, Ensign," she said, in that imperious, commanding tone. "Seven and I became a little involved with the program we were running and lost complete track of time. Please feel free to utilize my next scheduled holodeck period for yourself. I assure you, I won't be requiring it."
"Uh, thank you, Captain," he said, vastly pleased by her fairness. It was far more than any other crewmember might have offered and since holodeck time was like currency on the ship, one could trade it for favors sometimes. Grabbing the captain's prime spot would be worth a lot to any crewman trying to acquire time for gaming.
He looked after them briefly as the two women walked away, side by side but not touching or even looking at each other, and he wondered what they had been running in the holodeck. Probably some scientific projections, he decided as he went over to the controls to input the parameters of his own program. Or the da Vinci art studio scenario he had heard they liked. He couldn't imagine what else they would run since neither gave any indication they liked to play games or participate in the 'open' programs, such as Sandrine's or Tom Paris's new Irish village program that the rest of the crew enjoyed.
Idly, he decided that while the two officers seemed fairly content as a couple, there was just so little sense of passion whenever one saw them together. He couldn't imagine either of the formidable women unbending enough to have gotten married in the first place, let alone to each other.
Cold fish, he thought as he activated his ski race scenario.
Seven of Nine carefully did not look at her partner as the turbolift ascended, afraid that her gaze would give her away. She was sure they both looked completely ravished, because certainly, that was how she felt as they got off on deck three and proceeded to their quarters. Inside, the couple's Irish Setter, Jake, scooted across the living area to greet them, and Janeway returned his enthusiasm, wrestling briefly with him.
Seven smiled and skirted the pair, going into the ensuite where she shed her outfit and recycled it prior to hanging it in the closet. Both women had showered before leaving the holodeck ... indeed, playing in the shower had caused them to overshoot their allotted time ... and Seven felt weariness seep through her as she went back out into the bedroom. Janeway joined her a short time later on what now seemed like a very tiny mattress, her nude form warm and pleasant as the two women spooned together in the center of the bed, Seven tucked up neatly behind her spouse. The captain's body was a constant source of heat, and after a recent away mission where the pair had been stranded on an ice planet, it was something for which the Borg had acquired a new appreciation. She wrapped herself completely around the other woman, trying to place as much of her flesh against Janeway as she could.
Janeway snuggled back against her happily and entwined her fingers in Seven's, holding their hands close to her heart.
"It's too bad we don't have room for a larger bed," Janeway muttered sleepily. "I liked rolling around with you."
"Agreed," Seven responded quietly as she hugged Janeway closer. "Perhaps when we return to Earth, we can make sure our bedroom is of the dimension to allow for such a big bed."
"Mmm, that would be lovely." The captain made a soft sound of contentment in her throat. "I enjoyed myself tonight, love."
Seven smiled. "I did as well, Kathryn. It is good for us to be by ourselves where no one can bother us." She hesitated. "I know that this evening was designed by you to try to provide us with that time. Thank you."
"You're welcome, love," Janeway responded, reaching back to pat the Borg's hip lightly. "It might not be the type of vacation you want, but maybe it'll hold us until we have the opportunity for a real one."
Seven kissed her ear sweetly. "It was still wonderful."
Janeway smiled, then yawned, her drowsiness getting the better of her. "The only hard part is having to get dressed and come home. Next time, let's get wicked here, all right? That way we can just fall asleep afterward."
"Very well." There was a pause as the Borg listened to her partner breathe, hearing it slow and become more regular. "Kathryn?"
"Umph," Janeway said, jerking awake. "What?"
"Do you think we should replicate a Mini Marvel 450™?"
Janeway hesitated. "Do you?"
Seven considered it. "If we used it sparingly, I would find it a ... most acceptable addition to the variety of ways we have to make love."
She had seen how much her partner had enjoyed being inside her, and since it had turned out to be something that she could also derive a certain amount of pleasure from, perhaps they could somehow spare the rations. Janeway's pleasure was something that greatly enhanced her own, so obviously they would both benefit from acquiring the additional device.
"Good heavens, darling," Janeway said drowsily. "How could we justify using 185 replicator slips for something like that? It's so ... well, tiny."
"I'm sure we could acquire extra rations slips by trading our hours of holodeck time to other members of the crew. We rarely utilize that recreational allotment as anything more than an opportunity to adhere to our cardiovascular requirements."
Another sound in Janeway's throat, one of amusement this time as she translated that. "We certainly got a workout tonight."
"Rather than replicating a pool or the beach, we could simply exercise in the gym."
Janeway raised her head, looking over her shoulder. "Do you really want the accessory, darling? I have no interest in replicating this thing if it will only be for my benefit."
Seven peered into her eyes. "It would not just be for your benefit. I believe that I would also find it enjoyable, depending on how it is utilized. Kathryn, if we have the slips to spare, and nothing else to spend them on, this seems like a viable item to add to our collection."
Janeway let out a bark of rueful laughter. "God, we do have a collection, don't we? Wands and balls and edible underwear ... if people only knew."
"Shall we aquire the Mini Marvel 450™?" Seven repeated patiently.
"Well, you should probably think about it a little more," Janeway mumbled as she settled back down on the bed. "But you know that whatever you want, I'm happy to do."
Seven wanted to point out that at one time she had very much wanted to keep a Borg baby ... which Janeway had not been happy to accommodate at all, and in fact, didn't. But Seven knew better than to bring it up. It was a topic that, after much mutual hurt and anger, they had finally agreed to disagree about, and leave it at that. It had not been an easy decision, but it had been a necessary one for them to find their way back to each other after all the misunderstandings and misassumptions that had precipitated it. Instead, she snuggled closer and buried her nose into the nap of Janeway's neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her partner.
"I shall start saving my rations."
Janeway chuckled. "Okay, I'll try to set aside some of my own."
Seven squeezed her. "Do not lose any more pips. If you can manage that, it will not take long for us to save them."
"I promise," Janeway said, yawning widely again. "May I go to sleep now?"
"Was I stopping you?" Seven inquired blankly.
Janeway didn't respond to that beyond a nudge with her elbow, and the Borg realized that her partner must be tired to let her get away with that one. She smiled and cuddled closer, allowing her own weariness to overcome her as well.
Morning watch seemed to arrive far too quickly, and Seven literally had to force herself to roll away from the delightful sensation of Janeway's body. Standing up next to the bed, she stretched languidly, reaching her arms high above her head, her lanky torso extended as far as she could manage it. She blinked and noted that Janeway was awake as well, watching her with eyes that burned blue fire.
"Do you know how much I enjoy watching you do that in the morning?"
Seven quirked an eyebrow. "I can speculate, particularly from your tone of voice. However, we do not have sufficient time."
Janeway smiled ruefully, stretching a bit herself, the blanket falling away to reveal her breasts. "I know," she muttered, peering at Seven invitingly from beneath lowered lashes. "But I don't have to like it."
"Sometime in the future," Seven said, eyeing the display warily, curbing the urge to pounce on those firm little swells, "You and I will take several days for ourselves in a place where no one can reach us."
Janeway tilted her head. "You're not counting our little 'vacation' on the Icinus?"
"I did not consider it a vacation when we crash-land, sustain serious injuries and are constantly forced to battle harsh conditions in order to survive. Most importantly, we were only able to make love once." She turned and went into the ensuite, adding over her shoulder. "I wish a situation where the landing is gentle, our health is excellent, the climactic conditions moderate and our lovemaking is the rule, rather than the exception."
She heard Janeway laugh and she smiled herself as she started the shower, water gushing from three nozzles, making sure the temperature was at the proper setting: a little cooler than she normally preferred, a little warmer than Janeway normally preferred, but absolutely perfect when they showered together. Janeway patted Seven's back approvingly as she passed by on her way to retrieve the towels which she hung over the bar on the wall. The pair moved together under the water, both uttering sounds of pleasure as they did so. Their recent period of deprivation was still fresh enough in their minds that they luxuriated under the spray, appreciating an experience that had garnered a whole new appeal since their crash.
Seven used a cloth to lather the captain all over, delighting in how the suds slipped so slickly along the other woman's smooth skin. "Do you remember the sponge baths you gave me on the Delta Flyer?"
Janeway smiled, her eyes closed, content to relax as her partner lavished her with attention. "I do. Every night before you went to sleep, I would wash you all over. I enjoyed taking care of you. I don't mean I enjoyed the fact you were hurt," she added hastily.
Seven brushed her lips over Janeway's. "I knew what you meant. I only regret that I was too weak at the time to appreciate them fully."
"You mean, take advantage of where they could have led."
"Yes," Seven agreed placidly. "That is what I meant."
They shared a conspiratorial grin and Janeway took the sponge from her.
"My turn."
Seven basked in the captain's attention, but kept a strict rein on her desire, storing it away until after their shifts. Finally, after several additional indulgent minutes, they shut off the water and used large fluffy towels to dry each other off. It was sensual and very playful, but neither let it go too far, aware that both had pressing duties awaiting them. Before long, they were dressed and ready for breakfast.
"Waffles?" Janeway suggested as she went to the replicator, it being her turn to prepare their morning meal.
"Blueberry," Seven requested as she set the table, putting out the necessary plates, utensils, juice, butter and a small bottle of syrup. As Janeway brought over a large platter of waffles, the Borg filled a silver thermos from the coffee maker that had been set to brew automatically the night before, making sure she had enough left over for Kathryn's first cup with breakfast.
"Hmm, the astrophysics department reports that it detected a system in the upcoming sector that your projections hadn't listed during beta shift last night," Janeway noted absently, reading from a padd as she began her breakfast. "Looks like the Borg overlooked that one."
Seven, digging into her stack of waffles, raised her eyebrow. "I will place it on the priority list as soon as I arrive in astrometrics."
"Good idea," the captain replied, sipping her orange juice. "We might need to stop to replenish our supplies." She stopped abruptly and put her glass firmly on the table in surprise. Seven eyed her with curiosity.
"What is it, Kathryn?"
"I have a memo from Chakotay, requesting a leave of absence."
Seven was equally surprised. "For what purpose?"
"It doesn't say," the captain remarked, her eyes lightening to a bluish-grey of dismay as she looked over at Seven. "Have you heard anything?"
The Borg considered all the recent rumors and stories making the rounds on the lower decks. "Nothing." She raised an eyebrow. "However, he has had a significant amount of extra duty in recent months. Perhaps he merely wishes a 'break'."
Janeway nodded ruefully. "True." But her frown did not go away. "Still, it does seem odd. Especially after yesterday when I told him about the official pardon for all the Maquis that Starfleet is sending in the next communiqué. I thought he was thrilled."
"Does one emotion necessarily preclude the other?" Seven asked curiously. "Is it not possible that he is very happy, yet very tired at the same time?"
Janeway considered that as she got up with her mug, filling it from the coffee maker. Seven noticed that the captain grimaced slightly when she discovered that it was the last in the pot, and the Borg tried not to roll her eyes. The coffee's flavor was equal from beginning to end, yet the captain was convinced that the first cup from the pot was the best, and was always vastly disappointed when Seven filled the thermos before she had a chance to refill her mug. The Borg had come to the conclusion that Janeway's perception about it was a complete fallacy, yet her partner still persisted upon believing it.
"I'll admit," Janeway said thoughtfully, leaning against the counter as she sipped the dark liquid, "I have been delegating a great deal more responsibility to him as time has gone by. Maybe I overdid it a bit. Certainly, with the last few missions, he's had to hold down the fort while I go charging off to do whatever. He's also been teaching the Starfleet courses and providing extra attention to training Lt. Ro, not to mention all the personal time he's been spending with Icheb. Maybe he's met someone and wants to spend time with her."
"Or perhaps you could simply ask him why he requested the leave."
Janeway shot her a brief smile over her mug. "What, and take away the fun of speculating wildly?" She took another sip of her coffee. "Maybe this system will have something in the way of shore leave and I'll be able to grant his request." She smiled faintly. "And possibly even yours."
Seven merely glanced at her indulgently and began to clear the table. A napkin dropped to the floor, and as she bent over to pick it up, she felt her partner place her hand familiarly on her buttock. "Did you require something, Kathryn?" she asked, not moving as the captain stroked the cheek through the Borg's biometric suit.
"Nothing in particular," Janeway muttered, giving the body part in question a final, gentle squeeze. "Just admiring the view."
Seven straightened and shot a glance at her smugly smiling wife before carrying the plates demurely over to the replicator where she deposited them in the recycling unit. "It occurs to me that incidents of our lovemaking have increased significantly in the past week since my release from sickbay."
"Are you complaining?"
"Not at all," Seven remarked, returning to the table where she finished cleaning it off. "I am merely intrigued by it. It seems to me that the last time we were this amorous on a steady basis, the ship increased its crew complement by nine."
Janeway laughed. "I don't think we have to worry about that. We only have the one B'Rethna left on board, and it's been neutered in any event." She tipped her cup, draining the last of her coffee. "Perhaps we're just catching up on all those nights we missed while you were ill. Or maybe it really is 'spring' this time ... after our 'winter'."
"Perhaps it is." Seven turned swiftly and gathered her partner up in her arms, holding her tightly as she looked down into her classic features. "Or perhaps we are merely 'making up' after our conflict. B'Elanna says that 'make up' sex is the most intensive of all."
A brief shadow crossed Janeway's eyes. "Perhaps."
Seven's face softened and she kissed her gently. "I did not mean to provoke bad memories of our disagreement, Kathryn. I merely wished to offer an alternative explanation for our amorousness of late."
Janeway relaxed slightly in her arms. "No, you're probably right, darling," she said apologetically. "Maybe a certain part of me is trying to 'make up' for the things I did and said over the weeks leading up to the crash, and certainly, lovemaking is part of the healing process." She paused, looking thoughtful. "But I want you to know, I make love with you because I enjoy it so much ... not because I feel obligated on some level to 'make things right' with you."
"I understand." Seven enjoyed the feeling of her partner in her arms for a few more minutes. "I love you, Kathryn."
Janeway's face went all soft and vulnerable. "I love you, too, Seven of Mine."
They kissed again, and with that to get them through their shifts, they released the embrace in order to begin their day, aware that there were many responsibilities awaiting their attention ... responsibilities that simply could not be ignored as much as they might want to.
On the bridge of the USS Voyager, the alpha shift quietly went about its business of maintaining a steady course back to the Alpha Quadrant. At the same time, they wanted to make as many scientific and explorative discoveries as they could on this journey that had already lasted six years and could possibly last another twenty.
At the helm, the sandy-haired Lt. Tom Paris made tiny course corrections, charting the smoothest path for the Intrepid-class vessel, his hands moving lightly over his board. Behind him, the first officer, Commander Chakotay, held the conn, working at something on the small console which sat between the captain's chair and his. To Chakotay's right, Lt. Commander Tuvok covered tactical, the dark-skinned Vulcan keeping a constant monitor on the internal security of the ship, while across the bridge, Lt. Harry Kim maintained his post at ops. To all intents and purposes, it was another peaceful day in the Delta Quadrant.
Which should have been their first clue, Tom Paris thought much, much later. After all, whenever things seemed the most peaceful, that's when the universe had a way of reaching up and biting a person on the ass.
Hard.
It started with an innocuous beep on Harry's board, a small light flashing to attract the young man's attention, and he immediately called up the data required.
"Commander," he said, raising his head to look down towards the command level. "Long range sensors are detecting a ship bearing two-two-mark-seven."
The tall, handsome Chakotay frowned briefly and glanced toward the fore viewscreen. "On screen," he commanded. "Magnify."
Tom looked up at the huge screen that dominated the front part of the bridge, watching as a small dot abruptly expanded. It was a small vessel with flowing lines and a shimmering hull.
The helmsman immediately fell in love.
"Report." Captain Kathryn Janeway came out of the turbolift, obviously alerted to the encounter by her first officer as she made her way to the bridge to start her shift. A compact woman with auburn hair and steady blue-grey eyes, she was a commanding presence, one that energized the bridge atmosphere simply by her entrance. It was an effect that never failed to impress and amaze the young helmsman.
"It is an unknown vessel," Tuvok noted. "Its signature does not conform with any established pattern in our databanks."
"It seems to be unmanned. No lifesigns at all and no power signature." Harry raised his dark eyes. "It's a mystery."
Tom glanced back at the captain who had taken a seat. The woman was frowning faintly as she regarded the small ship on the screen, her chin resting lightly on her thumb and forefinger. "Uh, Captain, perhaps we could take a closer look?"
Those blue laser eyes fastened on his, and he thought they became mildly amused.
"You mean, bring it on board? For what purpose?"
"Scientific discovery," he replied promptly. "A 'hands-on' inspection might give us better insight into who built it and why."
The captain exchanged a sardonic look with Chakotay, and the first officer looked away, clearly not wanting to roll his eyes. Obviously, Tom was not fooling either of his commanding officers.
"It seems to me," Janeway pointed out dryly, "that the last time we explored an unmanned alien space craft, it wasn't a very good idea ... specifically for you."
Tom was keenly aware of how the experience with the sentient ship he had christened "Alice" had ended up, but he didn't back down. After all, ships were a passion of his, and this one was a real beauty.
"What are the odds of that happening again?" he offered with a sly grin, knowing Janeway had a bit of a soft spot for him at times ... especially when he offered his most boyish, appealing expression.
"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to take a closer look," Chakotay offered to the captain. "We can put it in a secure section of the hangar deck and make sure force fields are put in place." He quirked a brow. "We are here to explore the unknown, and to be honest, I'm a little curious about it myself."
Janeway shook her head, but she smiled. "Fine. Lock a tractor beam on it and bring it on board. Tuvok, I want you to carry out any security protocols you deem necessary before any crewmember goes on board."
"Yes, Captain," the Vulcan responded without enthusiasm. But since that was his normal mien, Tom did not take it to mean the security chief would be slow in accomplishing the task in any way.
Delighted, the helmsman turned back toward the front, gazing hungrily at the little ship as Voyager went about securing the vessel before finally bringing it on board. The helmsman requested ... and received from an amused captain ... permission to check it out himself as the ship's most skilled pilot. The turbolift couldn't move fast enough for him, and when he finally made it to the hangar deck, he was actually breathing hard from having sprinted the final distance along the corridor. He slowed to a walk, his eyes taking in every millimeter of the shimmering lines of the vessel that glowed golden in the muted lights of the hangar deck. Hesitantly, he reached out and drew his hand along a hull devoid of any scarring or pitting from dust or meteors. It was as if it had just come off the construction line, shined up and absolutely pristine, waiting for a pilot just like him.
"Wonderful," came a familiar voice behind him. "He's in love again."
Tom flushed, turning around to see B'Elanna Torres and Harry looking at him with no little amusement. The Klingon lifted her tool kit.
"The captain sent me down to take a look at this buggy," Voyager's chief engineer said. "You want to help or are you just going to stare at it all day?"
"You have no appreciation for the finer things in life," he returned, patting the hull beside him. "This is beautiful."
"Oh, it's a beauty," B'Elanna agreed dryly as she began to circle it, obviously looking for a hatch. "But that's the difference between you and me, Tom. You prefer your passions to be inanimate, and I prefer mine to live and breathe." She shot him a grin to take the sting out of her words. "That's why we were doomed from the start."
"Probably," he agreed, trying not to wince. He and the Klingon had shared a tempestuous romantic relationship that had ended before he realized that B'Elanna was worth more than all the holoprograms and ships and other distractions he had indulged in while ignoring her. Now, she chose to go home to the tall, good-looking Lt. Ro Laren, who was also a helm officer when she wasn't performing other tasks in her role as the ship's 'rover'. The couple had just moved into double quarters on deck four this past week, two doors down the corridor from him. Tom, meanwhile, went home most nights to a very empty and lonely bed.
Despite the incredible appearance of his current obsession sitting here in the hangar, there was no question in his mind which helm officer had ended up with the better deal.
"There's the hatch," Harry pointed out. "I guess we ought to let him do the honors, B'Elanna." The young ops officer shot a look at Tom. "Just don't take too long. I have a wife and little boy who don't take it kindly when I'm late for dinner."
"Philistines," Tom grumbled but he quickly moved over to the hatch his friend had indicated. He accepted the device B'Elanna handed him, and placed it on the hull next to the thin outline which indicated the vessel's entry point. The device stuck there, lights flashing as it scanned the interior thoroughly, looking for anything that indicated a threat or something out of the ordinary.
As it did its job, Tom, B'Elanna and Harry hauled out their tricorders and ran their own scans, detecting nothing that implied any danger. The helmsman was quite impatient by the time the first device finished its scans, the lights switching to green, indicating a compatible atmosphere inside, devoid of any bacteriological or mechanical threat. B'Elanna and Harry stood back as Tom programmed the necessary commands into the device in order to activate the vessel's air lock.
There was a muffled thunk, then the hatch slid smoothly back, revealing a darkened interior. Tom almost tripped in his anxiousness to get inside.
His anticipation was amply rewarded.
It even smells new, he thought as he made his way up the aisle to where a chair, perfectly designed for his specifications, sat at a shiny and unmarked helm. He sat down, feeling the leather cushions surround him with almost sinful comfort, and he couldn't resist a sigh, resting his hands on the helm as he leaned back into the soft luxury.
B'Elanna rolled her eyes. "C'mon, let's see how the damned thing works."
It took several hours, but eventually the three came to the inescapable conclusion that the 'damned thing' didn't work at all. Harry laughed, looked vaguely disgusted at the waste of time, and headed home for dinner. B'Elanna waited a little longer, perhaps sensing that the helmsman was honestly upset and not wanting to leave him alone with the unfortunate reality.
"I don't understand," Tom said, feeling like he wanted to weep from the sheer frustration, thumping the helm controls and only succeeding in hurting his hand. "What was it even doing out here?"
"Maybe it was a dummy model. Fell out of a transport freighter or something." B'Elanna tossed the last of her tools back into her kit and peered out through the viewport. "I know one thing; it sure as hell didn't get out here on its own."
"But why would anyone build a ship like this ... for show?"
"Don't know. Don't care." B'Elanna glanced back at him, and her face softened as she patted his shoulder gently. "Don't feel bad, Tom. It still looks pretty ... even if it doesn't do a damned thing."
That didn't make the helmsman feel the slightest bit better. He had been envisioning himself soaring through the heavens in this lovely vessel, and to know it couldn't even move an inch from the deck plates was doing bad things to his psyche. Especially since his beloved Delta Flyer was currently in pieces in another part of the hangar.
"Lieutenants?"
Both officers looked back to see the captain poke her head through the hatch, and they straightened respectfully as she entered, looking around with curious eyes.
"Well, Harry was correct, it certainly is pretty. Was he equally accurate in assessing its purpose?"
"What purpose?" B'Elanna said, amusement lighting her eyes. "It doesn't have any ... except maybe to look good."
"Captain." Tom turned the chair around. It was hard to let go of a dream, particularly one so attractive. "Maybe we're missing something here."
"You're apparently missing everything," Janeway pointed out gently, though her eyes were twinkling. "There's no propulsion system, no form of navigational system nor any kind of ship's computer ... not to mention any indication of why it was built or by whom."
"But maybe its propulsion system is so sophisticated that we can't even recognize it when we see it," Tom argued. "Maybe it uses some form of ... of ... of telepathic energy to power it."
B'Elanna rolled her eyes. "Even if that were the case, it would still need something to move it. This doesn't." She looked at the captain. "Even assuming that Tom's theory was remotely possible, then why create a helm? Why create control pads that aren't connected to anything? Why not just propel the whole thing with one's mind and put a couch in here to lie on while you do it?" She shook her head. "I'm sorry, captain, there's nothing on this vessel, but stations without any interior fittings. It's as if all this has been put together to provide an illusion, like a prop in a holoprogram or something. The vessel does have a low level dilithium generator that powers a life support system, providing an atmosphere and some interior and exterior lighting, but nothing else." She waved around. "It's possible that it's a vessel in the process of being built and whoever was responsible never finished it ... but I don't know what kind of species would build what we consider the finishing touches first, and then do all the engineering and actual ship construction last."
"It's basically just a shell." Janeway looked around with a vaguely puzzled expression on her face. "You're right, Lieutenant, I have no idea why anyone would build such a vessel."
Tom exhaled slowly, feeling the last of his dream crumble entirely. "It just doesn't make sense."
"What about these panels?" Janeway asked, pointing at two squares that were situated high on the bulkhead on either side of the vessel. She was standing close to one that had an unusual design on it, a squiggle that glowed from some interior lighting system.
B'Elanna grinned. "Those actually had us excited for a while. They're drawing power from the generator, but they aren't connected to anything else. They depress, but when we pushed them in, absolutely nothing happened. Frankly, when I traced the circuitry, it just went back and forth between them. I think it's just more decoration."
"Nothing happened when you pressed them?" Janeway asked curiously, pushing the panel that was slightly larger than her hand. There was a muffled click, but that was all, and she looked at the engineer who shrugged. "You're right. Nothing."
"No purpose," B'Elanna said, holding out her hands.
Janeway looked closely at the panels, and Tom wondered what she was trying to see. He was intrigued when Janeway moved over to the other one, almost as if she had discovered something the others hadn't.
"The pattern on that panel is a mirror of the other." Janeway looked back at her junior officers. "Did you try pressing them at the same time?"
B'Elanna looked vaguely embarrassed. "Actually, I don't think we got to that. I used the tricorder to run a trace of any energy output while Harry pushed them, but since nothing happened, I guess that didn't occur to me." She shook her head. "Still, captain, my tricorder didn't pick up any indication of a linked activation circuit."
Janeway smiled faintly. "Never hurts to try anyway," she invited and pushed in the panel on her side.
B'Elanna sighed and reached up, pressing on the panel above her head.
Tom wasn't sure what happened next or why, but there was a bright flash of light that temporarily blinded him, and he yelped, covering his eyes with his arm. When he finished blinking, and looked at where the panels had been, there were only blackened squares that still smoked slightly. Horrified, he looked down to see B'Elanna and the captain collapsed on the deck, and he scrambled to the engineer's side, feeling for a pulse. It was there, strong and steady, as was the captain's, but his hand still shook a little as he hit his comm badge.
"Paris to sickbay. The captain and B'Elanna have been injured. Doctor, I need you in the hangar deck immediately."
Seven of Nine rushed into sickbay with Lt. Ro Laren only a step behind. Both women had been contacted about the accident in the hangar deck and Seven had beat the Bajoran to the medical center only because astrometrics was a bit closer to deck five than deck ten where Ro had been working with Security's elite beta squad. The Doctor and Sek looked up from the still bodies lying on the biobeds, while Chakotay and Tom Paris hovered nearby with matching expressions of dismay on their faces.
"Explain," Seven snapped harshly, not allowing for any formalities.
"They're both fine physically," the Doctor said, speaking quickly as he moved to intercept the women. Seven realized that spoke volumes in itself and she glared into his concerned features.
"Mentally?" She picked up on the omission immediately.
"This isn't going to be easy to explain." Seven felt her heart sink.
"Then you'd better get started," Ro Laren said, her tone one of absolute ice.
Seven was vaguely impressed and spared a quick glance over at the tall, willowy woman. Ro's face was set like stone, her dark eyes obsidian jewels of determination and outrage.
"Look at this," Sek said, her calm, rational tones cutting through the rising tension. Almost involuntarily, Seven and Ro moved over to the console where the holographic counselor was standing.
On the viewscreen, there were two sections, the top one designated for Janeway, the lower one designated for B'Elanna. There was a pattern running to the right of the patient's images, the top one in red, the bottom one in yellow. Sek gestured at the top one, Janeway's pattern.
"This is a neurological scan conducted during the captain's last physical. The lower one is B'Elanna's scan from her last visit to sickbay. These are the normal brainwave patterns of both patients." Sek touched the screen and the readouts altered to allow a second pattern to appear beneath each band of color. "These are the patterns that we're currently reading for each patient."
"They are distorted," Seven said with horror, staring at the distinctly different pattern shown beneath Janeway's normal readings.
"No," Ro said, pointing at the screen. "You've made a mistake. They're reversed. The captain's pattern has been placed beneath B'Elanna's."
"It's not the computer that has them reversed," the Doctor said quietly.
Shocked, both Seven and Ro stared at him, not comprehending what he was saying at first. Then it sank in and Seven felt herself sway, her nanoprobes stepping up control of her respiration and heart-rate, bringing them back to an even level.
"That's not possible," Ro said flatly.
"Apparently, it is," Commander Chakotay said gravely. "The Doctor has run several scans and they remain the same. Janeway is now exhibiting the brain waves of B'Elanna Torres while Lt. Torres is displaying the neural output of the captain."
Seven forced herself to accept it. After all, obviously everyone in the room believed it and arguing about it would waste time.
"How did this happen?"
"There was some kind of device in the ship we brought on board," Tom Paris explained, for some reason unable to meet Seven's eyes. "We were going over it and the captain came by. She and B'Elanna pressed two panels at the same time, there was a flash of light, and they were knocked unconscious."
Ro glared at him. "It looks like it did more than merely knock them unconscious. It looks like it switched their minds."
"That's what we believe happened," the Doctor agreed.
"How do we repair this?" Seven remarked. "Utilize the device again?"
"The device was destroyed in the exchange," Chakotay said. "Leaving only charred circuitry and no clue as to how it did this."
That piece of information was so horrific that Seven and Ro just stared at him in dismayed astonishment.
"In the meantime," Sek broke the stunned silence, "we have them both sedated, but we can't keep them like that. We need to wake them, let them ... adjust to their new reality."
"New reality?" Ro sputtered. "You're telling me that the captain is now in B'Elanna's body and B'Elanna is in the captain's. Furthermore, you're saying there's no way to switch them back?"
"We have our best people on it, Lieutenant," Chakotay said firmly. "But remember, our best engineer is lying on the biobed." His voice gentled. "Don't you think both the captain and B'Elanna would want to help find a way to help themselves?"
Seven did not need to consider that concept for long. Of course Janeway would want to be awake and actively participating in trying to solve the problem. "What can we do?"
Sek lifted her hand. "We thought that it would be easier if their loved ones were present when they woke, to ease the shock somewhat."
"Of course," Ro said and together, she and the Borg moved to the biobeds.
There was a vaguely embarrassed pause, and Chakotay cleared his throat. That was when Seven realized that she had automatically moved to the side of the woman in the black and red uniform, the four pips at her collar, just as Ro had moved to the side of the stocky, brunette Klingon. The two women exchanged looks, their eyes haunted, and perhaps they were the only ones who truly knew what the other was going through. Silently, they changed places.
Seven swallowed hard and looked down at the proud Klingon forehead ridges, at the face of her friend who, according to the readings and the sensors, was actually her spouse. Despite what the Doctor and the rest had told her, she didn't really believe it. She was sure that when the Doctor had finished pressing the hypospray to the woman's neck, B'Elanna would wake up and ask her what she thought she was doing by hovering over her as if she were ill.
The eyelids fluttered and then, slowly opened. The dark brown eyes appeared muddled at first, but finally cleared as they focused on Seven. There was a warmness in them, a sort of possessiveness that only one person should have, and the Borg swallowed hard as she recognized it.
"God, what hit me," Janeway said, and her eyes widened as the unfamiliar voice sounded in her inner ear, suddenly acknowledging the different signals that her body ... the body she was now in ... was sending her. Seven looked into that face a second time, studying it intently, and knew without a doubt that this woman was her spouse, the realization filling her with a unique sort of despair. She had wanted this to be nothing more than a mistake on the Doctor's part, an error by their sensors or the computer ... but the truth was right there where she could see it.
"What's going on here?" The voice was firm, commanding, not at all like the intonation normally used by the engineer. Cautiously, Captain Janeway sat up and Seven reached out to help support her, feeling slightly sick as she watched the woman look uncomprehendingly at her hands, and then down at the gold and black uniform she was wearing. She reached up, touching the flat, provisional officer insignia at her collar before raising her hands to her face, rubbing her fingertips over it, particularly the ridges on the brow.
From the corner of her eye, Seven saw a familiar body with unfamiliar movements do the same in the other biobed.
"There was an incident," Seven explained. "The device in the unknown vessel apparently triggered some kind of mental exchange." She swallowed hard. "It switched your mind into B'Elanna's body and put her into your body."
"God," Janeway said again. She shifted her shoulders, almost as if seeing how everything fit, and then swung her legs over the edge of the bed in preparation of standing. Instinctively, Seven reached out and put her hand on her shoulder.
"Slowly," she instructed firmly.
Janeway shot her a look with those dark eyes, and an eerily familiar crooked grin curved up one corner of her mouth. "I feel ... healthy. Just different."
"You will require time to adjust," Seven insisted.
Janeway frowned slightly, raising a shaggy brow. "Why didn't you just use the device to switch us back?"
"Apparently, it was destroyed in the exchange."
"Wonderful," Janeway growled, and then looked startled, as did Seven. It had actually been a growl, reverberating from her upper chest and rumbling up from her throat.
"Captain," the auburn haired woman interjected from a few feet away, sitting up on her own biobed, "the next time you want to try something out, choose someone else to assist you."
"It could be worse, Lieutenant," Janeway pointed out dryly. "You and Harry might have pressed them at the same time."
"Kahless," B'Elanna uttered, the oath sounding very odd in that elegant, husky tone. "Megan would have loved that."
"The hell with Megan, what about me?" Ro muttered softly, but not quietly enough. Seven and Janeway looked at her sharply, and then all four women stared at each other, slowly coming to a realization of what this really might mean in the immediate future.
"Chakotay," Janeway said, the imperious tone unmistakable as she leaped off the biobed, moving briskly as if to escape the thoughts this had inspired, taking refuge in her command. Without hesitation, the first officer moved over to her side. "I'm not sure how long this will last, and I'm certain that the crew will be ... unnerved, but if we act as normally as possible, it may calm people down."
"Are you going to remain on duty, Captain?" Tom asked curiously.
Seven shot a glance at him, noting that the question was vaguely impertinent, but recognizing that it was actually quite a pressing problem. Was her spouse going to continue in her role of captain? Or assume the role of the chief engineer, instead? The Borg knew Janeway could do both, but it was unlikely that B'Elanna could perform the role of captain.
Janeway exhaled audibly, her dark eyes appraising him. "Good point, Lieutenant, but I'm still captain, and unless my senior officers have a problem following my orders, regardless of what body I happen to be in at the moment, then I think a uniform change is all we need to maintain order."
"Of course, Captain," Chakotay said loyally, but Seven noted that he had a hard time looking at Janeway directly. He kept shifting his attention uneasily back and forth between her and B'Elanna. Seven knew exactly how he felt.
"B'Elanna?" Janeway asked, focusing on her chief of engineering. If she was disturbed at looking into what was essentially her own face, it wasn't apparent to the Borg. Perhaps having encountered other versions of herself on various occasions had made her immune.
"Hey," the engineer said, spreading out her hands as she slid off her own examining table. "I want to have another crack at that ship. I don't like being made a fool of, and it's obvious we missed something big in the first examination."
"An understatement," Seven said pointedly.
Janeway shot her a look of amusement from the corner of her eye, just as she often did when Seven was being particularly sarcastic, but it only served to make the Borg feel more uncomfortable. Her mind knew that it was actually her spouse regarding her with such familiarity, but Seven's body kept angling toward the engineer, wanting to reach out and touch the compact woman in this time of uncertainty. She had to force herself to think about everything she was doing, making her feel slow and clumsy.
It was not pleasant at all.
"Chakotay, I want you and Tom to return to the bridge. Begin plotting a course to the nearest inhabited, warp-capable planet." Janeway straightened her shoulders beneath the band of gold as she snapped her orders. "Surely, someone in this region of space should have a clue as to what or who might have put a ship out here and why. B'Elanna, as soon as we get changed, you and Seven will join Harry Kim on the hangar deck where, hopefully, a closer look at that ship might give us some answers."
"Captain." Chakotay interrupted her spat of orders, sounding vaguely apologetic. Janeway glanced at him, and he raised his eyebrow, his tattoo crinkling. "You've been on duty since 0700. It's now 2300. Maybe we should all get some dinner and some rest before tackling this tomorrow morning. I don't think the device that caused this is going anywhere, and it will take us a few days to find anyone in this area who might know something. In the meantime, I'll come up with a general memo to send out to the rest of the ship to let everyone know what's going on ... and who's still in command regardless of what she now looks like."
"I concur," the Doctor said firmly. "You've all had a massive shock, and some time to adapt would be useful for everyone."
"That does make sense, Captain," Sek said, adding her view to the argument, her mild tone somehow carrying even more weight than the two men. "It would be best if you and B'Elanna took the time to get used to your new bodies before throwing yourself back into duty. Not only for your sake, but for the sake of the entire crew who will need time to adapt."
Janeway blinked, obviously startled by this combined opposition to her charge, and Seven felt somewhat disconcerted as well. It was unusual to see Janeway 'being managed' when it was usually the captain managing the situation.
"You're probably right in saying that we would all benefit from some rest this evening," Janeway admitted grudgingly, after considering it briefly. "However, Chakotay, I do want a combined science and engineering team put on the ship right away to find out what they can." She glanced at the engineer. "In the meantime, we'll need to carry on as we always would. We'll just have to do it in these bodies."
B'Elanna looked vaguely confused before nodding. "Right," she said gamely. She glanced at Ro Laren, a frown furrowing her brow, and then shook her head as if not wanting to think too hard about what was going on. "I guess our bodies will just have to get used to living in new quarters with other people."
Suddenly, she shot a look at Seven, and for some unfathomable reason, blushed so profusely that the fair skin almost seemed to glow. Seven was sure she did not want to know what her friend was thinking at that moment. It would only add to the awkwardness of the moment, and indeed, even unspoken, the atmosphere grew decidedly more terse as they stood there.
Chakotay cleared his throat and gestured with his hand. "Ladies, please try to get some rest." He dipped his head as a farewell and headed for the exit, Tom Paris tight on his heels. "We'll see you tomorrow."
Seven was silent as she and her spouse finally left sickbay and headed for their quarters. She found it difficult to look at the other woman for any length of time and kept her eyes resolutely on where she was going, striding purposely for the turbolift.
Jake leapt off the couch as soon as he saw them enter, coming over to greet Seven immediately. However, when it came to the other woman, the pet seemed very confused. He certainly did not act as he normally did with Janeway, but neither did he greet the woman as if she were B'Elanna, whom he knew fairly well. Suspiciously, he sniffed at the hands Janeway held out, every hair on his body stiff, his tail tucked between his hind legs and tight against his stomach, his ears flattened against his head. The captain moved very slowly around him, not wanting to startle him into an unfortunate reaction as he whined uncertainly. Seven had the impression that in some strange way, he recognized his mistress within the body, despite what the scent and his eyes were telling him. Janeway finally knelt beside him, stroking his head gently, and he seemed to relax slightly.
"Hey, boy," she said quietly, in B'Elanna's voice but with Kathryn's inflections. "It's me. You sense that somehow, don't you, even though everything looks and smells wrong. You know it's not B'Elanna in here. You're such a smart pup, aren't you, boy?" Gradually Jake's tail lowered from his belly, then began to wag back and forth, almost as if he could understand what had happened, finally nosing the captain's chest just as he always did with his mistress.
Seven was very impressed with the animal's acceptance ... particularly since she knew it would be far more difficult for her to adjust to this new reality. In fact, a significant part of her wondered if she would be able to adapt, at all.
Janeway glanced up at her partner, hating how disconcerted Seven looked, but realizing there was little she could do about it at the moment. Indeed, it was taking all the internal fortitude she had not to run away screaming in a futile attempt to escape this body that felt so wrong. She supposed it could be worse, however. It could have been Tom Paris with whom she had been switched in the alien spaceship. She closed her eyes briefly as she scratched Jake behind his ears, not even wanting to think about that scenario.
Seven cleared her throat. "Would you like me to prepare something for you to consume?" she asked politely, almost as if to a stranger.
Janeway shook her head. "I'm not that hungry." At that point, she expected Seven to insist, but instead, the Borg simply nodded and moved away from her, over to her workstation where she activated the console and began to input data. Feeling oddly alone, the captain patted Jake a final time and moved over to the replicator. She wanted coffee but knew it would be hard enough to get any sleep this evening without it. Putting any caffeine in her system would make it simply impossible.
However, the herbal tea she selected didn't taste as it should, and she wrinkled her nose after sipping it. She moved over to Seven, peering over her shoulder as she often did, and deliberately tried not to notice when the Borg subconsciously leaned away from her.
"Is there something wrong with this?" she asked, putting the mug down on the desk near Seven's hand. "It tastes awful."
Seven obligingly picked up the mug and sipped the tea, raising an eyebrow. "It tastes as it always has."
"Must be me, then," Janeway mumbled before realizing that was exactly the case. Her taste buds were no longer those of a Human female but of a Klingon/Human hybrid with their own unique likes and dislikes. She took a breath and carefully moved away from Seven as she realized how uncomfortable her immediate presence was making the Borg. She took a seat at her own workstation, across from the young woman, regarding her keenly.
Seven finally became aware of the scrutiny and lifted her eyes, meeting those of her spouse squarely.
"Are you all right?" Janeway asked gently.
"No," Seven responded honestly. "I am not."
Janeway nodded her head. "No reason you should be, Annika," she said slowly, feeling helpless, "but darling, I can't help you right now. It's taking everything I have to hang on to my own sense of self. If I let myself think about this ... really think about it ... I suspect that I'll probably lose it entirely."
Seven thought about this, then nodded regretfully. "I am sorry, Kathryn. It is just such a ... difficult adjustment. In contrast to what you are going through, I am required to think about it constantly. Otherwise, I forget and I react to you as I would B'Elanna." She paused and added honestly. "I do not love B'Elanna ... not as I love you ... and it makes me uncomfortable when that body reacts to me as if I should."
Janeway dropped her eyes. "I still really need you to hold me right now," she said in a small voice, hating how pitiful she sounded.
Seven's face immediately softened, and she stood up, moving around the workstation where Janeway rose to meet her. The captain felt herself enfolded into those strong arms, the safety and comfort of them surrounding her like a warm summer breeze, lightening her heart and mind. It didn't matter that the limbs weren't quite wrapped around her body in the same fashion, that they were higher around her ribs than they would be if this body were as tall as she normally was, or that Seven remained a little hesitant about her embrace ... it just felt so good to be held. How large a piece of her soul would have been shredded for her to maintain her command ability if Seven had not been here? In these arms, she could release some of the fear, doubt and tension, and just lean on her partner for awhile, knowing without a doubt, that the young woman would hold her up for as long as it took for her to find her footing again.
Janeway finally took a deep, shuddering breath. "Oh, love," she whispered, her face pressed against the Borg's upper chest. "This is a tough one."
"I am right here, Kathryn," Seven murmured, tightening her embrace. The longer she held her, the more comfortable she seemed to be, her body relaxing against Janeway's form. Finally, Janeway felt as if Seven was no longer holding anything back. "I am sorry. I should have been doing this earlier."
"It's an adjustment for both of us, darling." Janeway raised her face slightly, unconsciously brushing her nose along the line of Seven's neck as she inhaled.
My god, has Seven always smelled this good? She knew, of course, that her partner had always emanated a pleasant scent, but this was much different, far more intoxicating. She realized suddenly how much keener Klingon senses were compared to Human. Although she was not as close as would normally be required, she could smell the faint musk of the Borg's body from those most intimate of places, and was shocked at how strongly this body reacted to it, her blood singing through her veins with a powerful arousal.
"Kathryn?" Seven's voice was uncertain and Janeway growled, surprising them both.
Seven immediately released the embrace and stepped back a few paces. "Are you all right, Captain?"
Janeway forced herself to breathe slowly, her fists clenched. "Sorry, darling," she managed. "Some of my body's reactions are somewhat more undisciplined than I'm used to."
Seven tilted her head, studying her closely. "Indeed What were you experiencing?"
"I think it's just my normal attraction to you," Janeway said slowly, as she worked it out for herself. "However, this body is far more aggressive in its appetites. There's hardly any control at all." She carefully released her hands. "Or rather, I'm not used to controlling such powerful and immediate desires."
Seven hesitated. "Perhaps I should not touch you anymore."
Janeway felt her heart sink at that proposal. "For how long?"
"Kathryn?"
Janeway sought after her composure, attempting to recover it. She didn't want to have to say it, but maybe it was better that they talk about it now, rather than later. "What if ... what if B'Elanna and I are never able to switch back? What if this is the body that I'll have for the rest of my life?"
Seven raised her chin, her eyes sparking almost angrily. "I do not believe that. There is a device that caused this, constructed upon scientific principles. If there are scientific means to switch you, there will be scientific means to restore you." Her pale blue eyes narrowed. "I will find those means."
Janeway was taken aback by the depth of her partner's determination. "Am I so repulsive to you as a Klingon?" she asked lightly.
But Seven did not take it lightly at all. Her face changed in a way that Janeway did not understand, looking away from the captain. "I believe we should regenerate," the Borg said flatly.
Startled, Janeway watched as the young woman turned and disappeared into the bedroom, actually shutting the door behind her. Frowning, she glanced over at Jake who was regarding her with soft brown eyes from his perch on the couch.
"What was that about?"
But her pet could not offer her an answer, and she shook her head, suspecting that this was going to be a great deal harder than she had initially anticipated. She gave her partner a few moments of privacy, and then entered the bedroom, noticing that Seven was already in the bed, dressed in a pair of silk pyjamas as she curled up under the covers, pretending to be asleep.
The captain stifled a sigh, then went into the ensuite. There, she stripped down and took a long, appraising look in the mirror at this new form she was wearing. For the first time, she allowed herself to really feel what it was like to be in this body, abruptly mindful of being in her mid-twenties again, of the youth and exceptional strength of this physique. The olive skin seemed to glow with health and vitality, while the slender, yet powerful, muscles rippled lithely as she turned and twisted, looking herself over. The curves were generous, as were the firm breasts that sported fat, brown nipples that stood out proudly. She ran a hand measuringly along her flat, hard stomach and over the lean flank of her hip.
All in all, Janeway thought with dark humor, it was entirely possible that she had ended up with the better half of the exchange.
She was about to go back into the bedroom as she was, but realized that Seven was having a hard enough time with her while in uniform. It wasn't necessary that she make it more difficult by showing up nude. She went into the recently constructed walk-in closet and took a look at what was available for sleep-wear, hoping to find something that could possibly fit this different body. As she studied the clothes hanging from the rack, she noted that although the couple had actually annexed the bedroom of the guest suite next door, it hadn't taken long to fill it up. It finally sank in that she and Seven were not just using this for clothes, but also for the storage of items that they had been accumulating in the time since their marriage; knickknacks and souvenirs from the various places in their travels yet did not, for whatever reason, have room to display them out in their living quarters.
My god, she thought in astonishment, how domesticated is this?
She knew she had always spoken as if this were their home since Seven and she had been married, but now, seeing the various containers of items that the couple couldn't bear to throw out ... even though most would be far more useful as energy in the replicators rather than taking up space here ... really brought to light the fact that she had settled down.
Was it actually to the point where they needed to do some spring cleaning?
She shook her head ruefully and dug out a t-shirt from Seven's side of the closet. It was still too large on this body, but it would be suitable for bed. She took a moment to shower and clean her teeth before pulling on the shirt. Inhaling deeply, she noted that somehow, even with replication, Seven's scent lingered on it. The fragrance made Janeway feel warm inside, and she smiled faintly as she recycled her uniform, switching the band of color on the shoulders to red, and requesting four pips be accorded to the collar. Fortunately, as this was an emergency of sorts, she had the discretion of doing this without needing to dip into her personal ration supply. A final word to the computer brought the illumination down to night standard, and she returned to the bedroom.
She crawled onto the mattress next to her partner, knowing from Seven's respiration and the stiffness in her form that she was not yet asleep, yet the Borg did not move. Sadly, the captain settled on her back on the mattress, not attempting to touch the young woman. That would be intrusive, somehow, and she didn't want to compound her partner's uncertainty any more than she had to. She was gratified, however, when eventually Seven rolled over so that she was facing toward the captain. The Borg didn't wrap Janeway up in her arms as she normally did, but she did reach over and entwine her fingers in the captain's, holding her hand tightly beneath the covers.
"I wish I knew what to do," she whispered helplessly.
Janeway swallowed and squeezed the fingers gently. "I know," she said huskily. "It's not easy for any of us." She paused, the darkness settling around them like a shroud. "I love you, Seven of Mine."
Seven tightened her grip. "I love you, Kathryn, no matter what body you inhabit."
Janeway smiled bittersweet into the night, but did not challenge it. Right now, things were too fresh and raw, and trying to pursue the conversation could only lead to places better left untrodden for the moment.
Despite all the events of the day ... or perhaps, because of them ... Janeway actually managed to fall asleep, not waking again until the early hours preceding morning watch. There was a void in the space beside her, and she reached out, running her hands over the sheets that were cool to the touch.
She rolled out of bed quietly and went to the doorway, looking out into the living area. Seven was curled up on the couch, much as she had on many nights during a recent conflict she and her wife had experienced regarding the final fate of a Borg infant. At that time, Seven had been furious with Janeway, and pointedly showed her displeasure by removing herself from the couple's bed, refusing to speak with her as she stayed out on the sofa during the few nights that they had actually found themselves off duty at the same time. Janeway knew that Seven wasn't angry with her now; merely uncomfortable with the situation they were in and attempting not to disturb her with her restlessness, but the captain still felt the distance between them keenly, having to swallow hard against the lump in her throat.
Moving silently, Janeway went into the ensuite and prepared for her duty shift, before she tiptoed out into the living area with a spare blanket that she draped over the slumbering Borg. At the bottom of the couch, curled up around Seven's feet, Jake raised his head curiously, ears perked, and Janeway put her finger to her lips. Somehow, he seemed to understand that meant he was to remain still and did so obediently as she carefully deposited a kiss on the young woman's temple.
She left her quarters and headed for the bridge, determined to get an early start on the day. The bridge crew all did brief double takes when she stepped off the turbolift, and Janeway realized in a concrete way this was not just an adjustment for her and her spouse, but for the entire crew. She nodded briefly at the conn officer supervising the gamma shift.
"I'm just in early to catch up on some reports," she lied. "I'll be in my ready room."
"Aye, Captain," the young ensign said, uncertainty in his tone.
Janeway resisted the urge to sigh and went into the sanctuary of her office. Sitting down at her desk, she logged onto her console, pulling up the departmental reports. As she did, she was aware of the clumsiness of her hands. As long as she didn't think about it, they did what she wanted, but when she concentrated on how different this form was, she crossed herself up, frequently hitting the wrong commands. Fortunately, as she and Seven had discussed earlier, it was easier to ignore something than keep it constantly on one's mind.
She tried to concentrate on the data streaming across her screen and not in the situation she found herself. A check with the historical data banks came up with several instances in the Alpha Quadrant where beings had swapped minds. One of particular note to Janeway, was an incident involving Captain James T. Kirk and a woman known as Janice Lester. Apparently, a device was used in that instance as well, maliciously wielded by Dr. Lester in an attempt to achieve command of the starship. However, the intended purpose of the ancient device, according to popular archaeological opinion at that time, was to provide young, strong, healthy bodies to intellectually superior beings who were dying ... though the speculation did not mention if the possessor of the youthful form was a volunteer or not. Somehow, Janeway suspected not, and she realized that it was this particular civilization's way of achieving immortality. Janeway decided that this determined attempt to cheat death was part of the reason the culture had eventually fallen to decay and ruin, the young sacrificed on the altar of old, worn out beliefs. Of greater interest, according to the log, was that the switch was not permanent unless one of the participants was dead. Otherwise, within days, the transference would reverse itself naturally. The rest of the logs pertaining to that time were rather sketchy, and worst of all, there wasn't much information about the actual device itself. Janeway decided that she would just have to dig a little deeper, and began to cross reference with the scientific and archaeological databases.
Right now, it was the only lead she felt they had.
B'Elanna Torres sat in the cockpit of the alien ship and dug her microfilament capacitator deeply into the mock circuitry of the helm. Around her, the rest of the scientific and engineering team worked doggedly, trying to uncover the secrets of this vessel, particularly the hows and whys of its effect on their captain and chief engineer in such a profound ... and inconvenient way. The chief engineer was keenly aware of how hard it was for them to be in her presence, the frequent glances coming her way like acid on her skin as the crewmembers had to forcibly remind themselves over and over that it was their departmental chief working there and not their captain.
B'Elanna knew it was particularly difficult for Seven of Nine, whose body language and senses kept reacting to the engineer as they would Janeway. In fact, a little earlier in the morning when they had been working together within the close quarters of the ship's fore cockpit, the Borg had reached out and stroked the back of B'Elanna's neck lightly with her fingertips as she moved behind her. It was a casual caress, the kind that Seven often provided the captain when the couple worked together outside of the bridge, done so unselfconsciously that the rare crewmember who happened to see it never attached much importance to it because ... well, because the two were married and that's what married people did. B'Elanna suspected that even the couple didn't really consciously acknowledge it themselves; the touch simply being a caress that one gave and the other received as part of being in close proximity to each other while pursuing a shared love of scientific discovery. B'Elanna, however, had no choice but to notice it on this occasion, the sensation both thrilling and shocking her, particularly by the way her new body reacted. She made an involuntary noise and turned her head sharply to look over her shoulder at Seven.
That was when Seven realized what she had done and before B'Elanna could say anything, the Borg stammered a brief apology, retreating quickly to the aft part of the ship which placed a deliberate distance between her and the engineer. B'Elanna would have pursued it, wanting to make it easier for her friend, but she hadn't a clue as to what she should say, so she went back to her work and tried to ignore the whole thing.
But the engineer wished someone would remember that this wasn't easy for her either. The engineer was constantly aware of being off center, her balance disturbed. This form felt much lighter than her own, almost insubstantial, and it certainly did not have the strength and flexibility that she was used to wielding. Janeway was quite athletic of course, and in fairly good shape, but she still massed less than the Klingon and had a physique that was more wiry than solid. She was also twenty years the engineer's senior, and furthermore, fully Human in her senses and reactions. B'Elanna found that she missed the sheer physical power she had possessed, and it felt as if she had a permanent head cold, unable to smell and taste the air as she normally did. The eyesight was not nearly as keen either, and she discovered she was squinting as she peered into the dark depths of the open console.
The only advantage the young woman could find in adjusting to the whole situation, was the fact that this wasn't the first time she had experienced a similar transference. In Voyager's second year in the Delta Quadrant, she had been captured by Vidiians and 'split' into two halves, one fully Human, the other, a full Klingon. She had considered her other half to be the more primitive, aggressive aspect of herself, and believed that she wouldn't miss it if it were gone. She discovered how wrong that assumption had been, finally able to acknowledge how much she needed her Klingon aspects in order to be a whole being. When the Klingon being had died, B'Elanna had been fortunate that the Doctor was able to reincorporate the DNA bequeathed to her by her mother back into her body, returning her to the hybrid she truly was. But she still remembered how weak she had felt as a Human, how very vulnerable she had been, and even wearing the captain's face and the perception of Janeway's authority, that feeling was very much present now.
She sent another probe deep into the depths of the false helm, the Starfleet devices programmed so that they were scanning at the most minute subatomic level. Nothing else had uncovered any clue as to what was going on with this ship, and scanning every millimeter of the ship seemed their last, best hope. The destroyed circuits in the vessel's ceiling gave no indication as to how the device had managed to switch the minds of the two women, or why anyone would build such a thing. If it was some form of defense, of some kind of security system, it performed in a way that no one had ever heard of ... or would have even imagined.
It literally made no sense, and B'Elanna hated it when things didn't make sense.
"Hey, how are we doing?" Harry asked, sticking his head in the door.
"No luck, dammit," B'Elanna responded, and saw him flinch briefly when he heard the words spoken so casually in the captain's tones as she turned to look at him. Grinning faintly, she reached over and punched him in the arm. "Problems, Harry?"
"Cute, B'Elanna," he said, but she noticed that he moved away from her, as well, going back to join Seven in her scans of the aft compartment.
She stifled her sigh. All she wanted to do was somehow get through this day.
Through the fore viewports, she could see others on the team going over the outer hull with meticulous attention, using every form of scanner and probe Voyager had on board. She could tell by their faces that they weren't having any luck. Then, her eye was caught by a red and black clad form standing near the hangar bay doors, the dark hair and eyes eminently familiar. Lt. Ro was staring at the alien vessel, though B'Elanna wasn't sure if the Bajoran could see her through the reflection of the hangar lights off the polished transparencies of the viewports.
Quickly, B'Elanna slipped out of the vessel and strode briskly toward the woman. She noticed that Ro jerked, almost as if about to leave, and then seemed to pause, a somewhat resigned expression on her face. The engineer remembered how Ro had escorted her to their quarters the night before before hastily making an exit for her second duty shift on the bridge, suggesting that B'Elanna should try to get some rest. The engineer hadn't laid eyes on the officer since, and was not particularly pleased by that, but she supposed that she could understand it to a certain extent.
"Hey," B'Elanna greeted, aware of the way Ro flinched as she heard the husky voice. Unfortunately, there were some things the engineer simply couldn't help at the moment.
"Hi. I came down to see how you're doing."
Obviously, though she was having a lot of trouble with this, she was still trying and B'Elanna was warmed by that. After all, while she couldn't forget she had been switched, neither could Ro, who had it literally staring her in the face every moment she was with her live-in lover. It was certainly not the way the two women should be starting off their lives as a bonded couple.
B'Elanna glanced around the hangar, and then drifted over to the relative concealment of the nearby Delta Flyer that was still undergoing extensive reconstruction after a recent crash on an ice planet. Ro obligingly moved with her until they were both shadowed by the damaged vessel, the taller Bajoran looking down into B'Elanna's face. The engineer reached out and touched the woman, wrapping her fingers around her forearm. Ro didn't flinch this time, but she didn't exactly move closer to her either. B'Elanna tried not to be hurt by that.
"I'm sorry," Ro said, almost as if she was reading her lover's mind. Or perhaps she was just able to recognize the various emotions crossing the classic features. "I don't mean to make this harder for you."
B'Elanna sighed. "It's not easy for any of us." She moved closer, invading the Bajoran's personal space. To her credit, Ro didn't move away, though the engineer sensed that she really wanted to. B'Elanna smiled somewhat bitterly. "Obviously, you're not attracted to the captain at all."
Ro inhaled slowly. "It's hard to adjust. I know it's you in there, but all my senses are telling me it's the captain I'm standing here with." She attempted a bit of dry humor. "Having the captain approach me as a lover tends to make me very nervous."
B'Elanna responded with a small smile.
"I guess I can understand that," she said softly, but she looked away from those dark eyes, not wanting to reveal her uncertainty, almost as if it was some form of cowardice on her part. "But it is me in here ... and right now, I'm feeling pretty alone."
Ro hesitated only briefly before slipping her strong, yet lean arms around the smaller body, pulling her close.
"You're not alone," she promised, pressing her face into the auburn hair.
B'Elanna resisted for a brief instant, and then surrendered gladly to the embrace, bringing her own arms up to return it. "Thank you," she whispered, somewhat shakily.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" Ro asked quietly. "I really want to help, Lanna."
"You're doing fine already," B'Elanna assured her in a muffled tone, her face buried in the Bajoran's front. "I really needed this."
Ro went so far as to brush her lips over the top of B'Elanna's head. "I admit, I'm not really used to providing this sort of ... support ... not the emotional kind. I'd feel more comfortable ... I don't know, doing something active, I guess."
"I think we'd all feel better doing something more active. The trouble is, there's nothing more we can do beyond what we're already doing."
"Have you found anything?"
"Not a damned thing," B'Elanna said wearily.
Ro was silent for a moment, her long fingers gently stroking the back of the engineer's neck. That put B'Elanna in mind of Seven, and it occurred to her that perhaps Seven and Ro had an even harder adjustment to make than she and the captain.
B'Elanna tightened her embrace. "I'm know you're trying really hard here. I appreciate it."
"Any time," Ro said, managing a faint chuckle. "Not that I would like to see this happen too often, of course."
B'Elanna managed a laugh, as well, though it was an effort. "The captain was right, you know. This would have been much worse if it had been Harry and I who had switched while we were fooling around with those controls. And let's not forget, Tom was also there."
"Prophets, I don't even want to think about that. I'm sorry, Lanna, but in that case, I couldn't hold you like this, no matter how much I loved you. Not in Tom Paris's body."
"I don't blame you," B'Elanna said, but she wondered. After all, it would still be her, regardless of the body, wouldn't it? Was their attraction to each other so tied up in the physical form?
She drew back, looking up at her lover, searching her face. Would she still love Ro if she looked like ... say, Neelix?
"What?" the Bajoran asked, aware of the scrutiny.
B'Elanna shook her head. "Just being philosophical." She tilted her head. "Am I so repulsive to you in this form?"
Ro started to answer, stopped as if reconsidering her first hasty response, and finally shook her head. "You're not repulsive at all. Don't get me wrong, it's not that your current form isn't attractive. It is ... but it's the captain I see when I look at it, not just a beautiful woman." She paused. "I'm not finding it easy to set that aside, especially after what we went through with ... Tuvok."
B'Elanna swallowed hard. "I hadn't thought of that. But this isn't the captain in here, Laren, it's me."
"But the body's bearing and demeanor ... it's still Janeway's. Not right now, not when you're conscious of being with me, of being physical, but when you're walking or standing without thinking about it, it's the captain's body language all the way." She looked a bit frustrated, as if lacking the words to explain properly. "It's the same when Janeway's on the bridge and isn't paying attention. Her body language is yours, uniquely Klingon as she sits in the command chair. It's confusing as hell for the rest of us. If these had been completely unfamiliar bodies you had been placed in, I suspect it would be a lot easier for everyone."
B'Elanna inhaled slowly. "Would you like me to order you around?" This was just a matter of perception, wasn't it? Why couldn't Ro get past this? She released her embrace and moved away from the other woman, putting some space between them, forgetting that this was how Seven had reacted to her. "It's still me," she insisted with a bit of irritation, turning away from her as she stared at the blank expanse of hull before her.
B'Elanna felt the Bajoran's hands settle on the engineer's shoulders from behind. "I'm sorry. I'll try to do better." Ro's voice sounded more than a little helpless.
B'Elanna swallowed hard. "I know you will, Laren," she said apologetically, reaching up to put her hand on Ro's, entwining her fingers with the other woman's. "I'll try harder, too." She turned around, looking up at the brooding features. "Will you kiss me?"
Ro appeared reluctant and B'Elanna felt a touch of anger stir in her stomach, but when the other woman looked around, the engineer realized it had to do more with where they were rather than what body either of them happened to be in. Ro was never comfortable with showing affection in public and B'Elanna realized she had put her in a bit of a spot.
"Never mind," she said quickly. "I forgot we're both on duty."
"No, it's all right," Ro said, obviously determined to prove she could be supportive.
Gently, she leaned down and covered B'Elanna's lips with her own. The kiss was uncertain, tentative, and while B'Elanna found it wonderful in its familiarity, she had to remember that for the Bajoran, it was as if she were kissing someone else for the first time. Now she really regretted having put Ro in this position in such a public place.
"Thank you," she whispered when Ro had finally drawn back. The Bajoran's dark eyes were troubled, but she nodded. The engineer forced a smile and squeezed Ro's hand. "Will I see you at home?"
Ro looked honestly regretful, but B'Elanna wondered if there wasn't a bit of relief in there as well.
"I can't. I'm pulling another double shift tonight to cover the helm. You'll probably be asleep when I get in."
"I'll wait up for you," B'Elanna said, carefully schooling her voice into one that was completely even.
"All right." Ro squeezed the engineer's hand once more and with a final dip of her head to indicate a farewell, she left the hangar.
B'Elanna looked after her, wondering how much of Ro's acceptance of her intention to wait for her to get off duty was based on the hope that this would all be over by the next day, and she wouldn't have to deal with her lover in an alternate form.
The chief of engineering guessed she'd find out later in the evening.
Janeway glanced up at the sound of the chime as it sounded tinily through her ready room. It had been four days since the incident that had swapped her and her chief engineer. After several futile scans of the craft, they decided they would be better off trying to contact the inhabitants of this sector of space, hoping that one of them could provide information that might help them. Voyager was currently on course for a planet in a nearby system that had a reputation of being a central port of call for a great many of species living in the area. It would take the Federation vessel a few more days to get there, and in the meantime, the captain and her crew tried to do their jobs as best they could in what had become a very odd circumstance for everyone concerned.
"Come," she said, still unnerved by how her voice sounded to herself. It didn't sound like B'Elanna's voice, of course, because it was reverberating through her inner ear, but it was certainly different from her own.
She blinked as her former body came through the door, the jolt as strong now as it had been after waking up in sickbay. She managed to keep an impassive expression ... or at least, she hoped she did. She had no idea if the command mask worked on her current face as well as it did on her old one.
"B'Elanna," she said smoothly. "Have a seat."
B'Elanna flopped down in the chair, eyeing her cautiously. They had been so busy with their own tasks for the past few days that they had not needed to come in contact with each other. Janeway supposed the most disturbing thing about this was how easily they were starting to settle into their bodies as the days passed. Even the crew seemed to be adapting to the captain and the chief engineer in these new forms ... all except for their respective partners, of course. Seven of Nine did not seem to be adjusting at all, and Janeway had noticed from the crew manifest that Ro Laren had been working a lot of double shifts the past few days. She wondered if the Bajoran and B'Elanna had any chance to talk about the situation at all, or if they were avoiding the issue altogether ... nor was she certain she had any right to ask.
"What can I do for you, Lieutenant?"
"Doesn't this bother you at all?" B'Elanna stared at her with a touch of resentment.
Janeway offered a dry smile. "You wouldn't believe how much." She inhaled deeply. "But, as Seven would say, it does no good for me to indulge in an emotional display. My work still needs to be done."
B'Elanna folded her arms over her chest. "Speaking of Seven, do you know that she's so skittish around me, we can barely work together? Not that I blame her much, but I was wondering if maybe you should reassign her to the bridge or even back to astrometrics ... for her sake."
Janeway stifled a sigh. "I would, but to be honest, she's fairly skittish around me, as well, so the bridge isn't a comfortable place for her. But if I were to suggest she move back to astrometrics, she would feel left out of this attempt to find a solution for the problem and possibly form a bit of resentment toward both of us. I'm afraid we'll just have to hope she adjusts. After all, her work isn't really being affected."
"I just don't like seeing her so uncomfortable," B'Elanna said. "It's like..." She paused. "It's like how it was between us when she first arrived on Voyager ... when we weren't friends at all."
Janeway fixed her with a compassionate look. "You're still her friend, B'Elanna. Don't ever doubt that." She picked up her lucky cup and sipped her coffee, grateful that this, at least, tasted pretty much the same. "Is that the reason you stopped by?"
"Well, that, and to see how you're treating my body," the engineer offered with a faint smile that faded after a few seconds, changing to a brooding look that was out of place on the fair features of her current face. "Or maybe I just needed to talk with the only person who understands what I'm going through. Sek keeps trying to pin me down for a session, but frankly, I don't want to talk to her about this. That doesn't leave me many options."
Janeway considered that and nodded. "I see what you mean," she admitted, keenly aware of how the ship's counselor had been pursuing her with more than just a little interest lately. She gestured to the replicator with her chin. "Can I offer you anything to drink?"
"Would I be out of line if I asked for an Solea Ale?"
"Only if I'm not allowed to share one with you," the captain said, getting up to move around the desk. "Join me on the upper level."
She replicated two ales of the type they had discovered on a recent shore leave, and carried them over to the coffee table. B'Elanna had made herself at home in the chair, and Janeway wondered if she had ever made her body slouch in that particular fashion. It looked vaguely uncomfortable.
"Maybe I'm out of line, Captain..." B'Elanna began, after Janeway handed her the glass and settled on the couch. She stopped when the other woman held up a hand.
"Belay that," the captain said. "Believe me, this is a fairly unique situation. You were right when you said that each of us is the only one who truly knows what the other is going through. Please, speak freely."
B'Elanna seemed uncertain as to what to do with such a blanket invitation, and Janeway waited patiently.
"I guess I just wonder if you ever consider the possibility that this permanent? That we're in these bodies to stay?"
Janeway hesitated, then dipped her head. "I have, though I try not to. It doesn't seem to be the sort of concept we should entertain until all other options have been exhausted."
"It's close to being exhausted," B'Elanna said in frustration, raking her fingers through the auburn hair, making it stick out in all sorts of odd places. "We've been over that damned ship about a hundred times, and there's absolutely nothing to give us a clue about how it managed to do what it did. Trying to replicate the device from scratch is a study in futility, as well. No matter how much reverse engineering we do, the device seems so far ahead of us technically, that I'm not sure where to start."
Janeway leaned back against the couch, deliberately relaxing her body so that she could get rid of the ache across her shoulders. Though she didn't really get headaches anymore, she had noted a definite tension in her neck and back whenever she became anxious.
"And if we are in these bodies to stay?" she prodded softly.
B'Elanna shot a look at her from stormy grey eyes, then sighed. "Kahless, I don't know." There was a silence, then she grinned crookedly. "My father would be proud. He'll have spawned a Starfleet officer who made captain by the age of twenty-seven."
Janeway returned the smile, but she was studying the other woman closely, looking for signals in those features that perhaps only she could see. "B'Elanna, I know that you have the lesser of this deal. You've lost almost twenty years, if not more, considering that Klingons seem to live longer that Humans overall..."
"Not longer," B'Elanna corrected. "Klingons maintain the body's vigor longer, but when it goes, it goes all at once, unlike Humans who seem to gradually decline over a period of time." She quirked an eyebrow. "Plus, there's no way of knowing how long that body's natural lifespan really is. It might start to collapse in ten years, or it might live twice as long as either species. All mixed-species hybrids live with that uncertainty." She hesitated. "It's not the lifespan, captain. I mean, life is whatever the fates give you ... there's no way to know if I'm being cheated out of a few decades or if I'm actually gaining a few by being in this body. But I will admit that I miss the Klingon strength and reflexes."
Janeway nodded. "I can appreciate that. If there had been any opportunity at all in this past week, I would have dug my phaser out of retirement and challenged a few people to Velocity."
B'Elanna laughed. "I have problems with that game. I always overcompensated in my shots and ran out of fire power before the match was over. I don't know if you could overcome that." She took a long pull from her ale. "I guess what's really bothering me is Ro. She just can't get by the whole 'captain's body' thing. Last night at dinner, it was as if she couldn't wait to get away from me ... and honestly, I'm not sure if I would be doing any better in her place. I'd like to think I would, but if it had been her and say, Neelix, who got switched, I'm not sure how adaptable I'd be." She stared at the reddish tint to her ale. "I don't know how to make this right for her or for me ... for us. It's a real bad time for this to be happening."
Janeway nodded compassionately. "She may not show it, but Seven's also having a lot of difficulty with this. She looks at me and sees you, and that makes it impossible for her to be comfortable."
"Then there's always the aspect that I feel like a squatter," B'Elanna added, glancing at the captain from beneath her lashes.
"'Squatter'?"
"As if I have no say over what I do now. After all, if we do switch back, I wouldn't want to have done anything that might..." She trailed off uncertainly.
Janeway frowned, attempting to figure out what the engineer meant, and then let her breath out audibly as she finally understood.
"B'Elanna," she said seriously, leaning forward. "I appreciate the sentiment, but please, if you're holding back from your personal relationship with Laren because you are worried about how I would feel about my body ... 'being with' ... the lieutenant, please, don't. As long as we're in this situation, consider that body your own."
"Thank you, Captain," B'Elanna said with more than a little relief. She paused, eyeing Janeway narrowly. "Of course, please feel free ... with Seven ... I mean..."
"I know what you mean, Lieutenant," Janeway said, smiling crookedly. "In fact, maybe it would be something you would enjoy knowing ... that your body got to be with Seven, even if you can't."
She was absolutely appalled at what had just come out of her mouth, but the words were said and she couldn't call them back no matter how much she might want to. B'Elanna looked dumbfounded, and Janeway raised her hand in apology.
"I'm sorry," she said with honest regret. "I shouldn't have said that." She wasn't quite sure why she had, and wondered if somehow the power of her impulses in this new form had overcome her natural diplomacy and poise. Certainly, it seemed that she had lost all sense of tact lately.
B'Elanna stared at her hands, swallowing convulsively. "Captain, I assure you..."
Janeway reached out and put her hand on the other woman's forearm comfortingly. "Some things you just couldn't help, B'Elanna."
"How long have you known?"
Janeway exhaled audibly, smiling faintly. "Goodness, since you and Chakotay broke up. I've seen you look at Seven with a certain expression in your eyes, and of course, I recognized it instantly. It's exactly how I look at her. The only difference is, mine is ... somewhat possessive, I guess, while yours was always ... yearning."
B'Elanna shook her head, her expression stricken. "Ro told me that she thought you knew. I thought ... I hoped ... you hadn't noticed. I'm sorry, Captain."
"For what? Being attracted to Seven?" Janeway laughed. "If that were a crime, half the crew complement would be in the brig." She patted B'Elanna on the hand one more time. "I know you're an honorable woman, B'Elanna. As is Seven. I was never concerned." She paused, before adding truthfully, "However, I was pleased when you discovered Lt. Ro. Because of your friendship, you're the one person Seven might ... return such interest if the circumstances were right."
B'Elanna flushed, looking extremely unhappy. "Does Seven know?"
Janeway shook her head. "I don't think so." She paused. "In fact, I would have to say no. Otherwise, she would be sure to let one of us know in some way or another. She's not very reticent when it comes to things like that."
"Kahless, that's for sure," B'Elanna remarked, undoubtedly remembering all the times that even she had been embarrassed by the Borg's brutal honesty. She tipped up her glass, draining the last of her ale. Then she looked directly at Janeway. "I would rather she never knew. It might not make any difference, but it's equally possible that it might harm our friendship. I wouldn't want that to happen."
Janeway hesitated, and then nodded. "She'll never hear it from me."
B'Elanna looked relieved, then stood up in preparation of leaving, putting her empty glass down on the coffee table. She favored the captain with a final look.
"Uh, thank you for giving me the leeway to ... you know..." she trailed off lamely.
Janeway raised a finger elegantly as the engineer turned to go, and puzzled, B'Elanna looked back. "You are aware, of course," Janeway said, dryly, "that I wouldn't authorize it if you were still with Lt. Paris. Ro's reputation for discretion is a definite asset in this situation."
The corner of B'Elanna's mouth curled up in an eerily familiar grin. "I can't say as I would blame you in that instance."
Janeway smiled as her engineer left the ready room, but her eyes were dark and brooding as she watched the door close behind her body. It was one thing to say they were going to progress with their respective partners as if the problem were irrelevant, but actually doing it was something else again.
How cooperative would Seven really be regarding such a decision?
Ro Laren entered the turbolift and gave the instructions for deck four, where the couple's new quarters were located, steeling herself to deal with the captain's body rather than that of her Klingon lover. She was trying very hard to approach this in a controlled and logical fashion, as she did most things, but the very situation was one that defied logic. The woman she loved was now in the body of her commanding officer. Worse, Janeway was someone who the Bajoran respected greatly, and every time she was with B'Elanna, she felt like she was betraying both of them in some odd way, something she had sworn she would never do. She knew it was simply a matter of her perception of the physical form, but it did not make it any easier for her.
"Lt. Ro."
Startled, Ro lifted her head, so lost in thought that she hadn't realized the turbolift had stopped and the doors had opened. She felt uneasy as the captain joined her.
"Deck six." Janeway's dark eyes studied the lieutenant before she reached out, pausing the lift.
"Captain?"
"I think we should talk, Laren." The use of her given name let Ro know that this was to be a personal discussion.
Could my day possible go any better? Ro thought sardonically. Now she would have to deal with a Klingon body that immediately triggered a physical response in her, forced to remind herself constantly that it was actually the captain in there.
"About?" she responded noncommittally.
"This situation." The captain quirked an eyebrow and smiled faintly. It was unnerving because even though the body was B'Elanna's, the way the mouth moved was pure Janeway.
Ro stifled a sigh. "What exactly would you like to discuss?" she asked, wondering how long this was going to hold up the turbolift system.
Janeway seemed to realize that at the same time, and she activated the controls again. "Deck eight," she said, giving the lift new instructions. Of course, since the ship's computer now recognized the voice as belonging to its commander, it overrode all the previous instructions and began to descend. Janeway shot a glance at the Bajoran. "I think a walk in the park might be appropriate."
"Yes, Captain," Ro said without enthusiasm.
She followed Janeway out of the turbolift as it stopped on deck eight, and the pair strode briskly toward the large metal doors that slid smoothly open at their approach. Inside, the previously stark surroundings of the ship's secondary cargo hold had been transformed into a small park, with slender trees, bushes, lawns and flower beds. The air was fresh, filled with the perfume of several blooms, while the buzz of insects underscored the chirps of birds. Confused, Ro looked around, surprised that the tiny, carefully balanced environment had been enhanced by the introduction of yet another lifeform, before realizing the sounds were merely being piped in over hidden speakers. The bees were real, and unconsciously, she leaned away as one swooped by, knowing that the stingers had been genetically removed from the insect, but unable to overcome her instincts.
In any other circumstances, such an expenditure of energy and resources, particularly those required for the bright lights overhead that approximated the Earth's sun, would be considered extremely wasteful. But ever since Voyager had become a generational ship, it was deemed necessary. Adults, it was discovered, could get by with a holodeck simulation of the outside, but growing, shipborn children required a daily slice of the real thing to keep them happy and healthy. Of course, a great many of the ship's crew preferred this very tiny area of real things as well, even though a holodeck could reproduce a much larger, more detailed scenario of any outside setting.
Ro suspected it was the quality of the air. No matter how good the programming, a holo-scenario just didn't smell the same as the real deal, even as limited as this was. Subliminal perception again, she decided, but some things were just more powerful than the intellect could fight.
Which brought her back to the situation at hand, as she and the captain took a seat on a wooden bench in the shade of some thin trees that stretched their foliage toward the ceiling two decks above. The Bajoran looked up, noting that someone had taken the time to paint it blue with fluffy clouds. The glare from the lights was enough that it seemed more real than a projection would have.
"I like this," Janeway said, looking over the small area and breathing deeply. "It probably would have benefited us a great deal had it been instituted years ago."
Ro shrugged. "Sometimes, we don't know what we need until we're forced into it. Then, we wonder why we hadn't thought of it before." She watched as a bee, heavy with pollen, dart from the pink blossom of a nearby rose. "Ensign Wildman really did a tremendous job on this."
"Her team worked very hard, and continue to do so. They want to add real birds to the environment to aid in pollination. Hummingbirds, I think."
"Can the area tolerate that?" Ro asked, realizing she was pursuing this inconsequential discussion in order to avoid what had really brought them here. "It's so small."
"Seven believes so." The captain prodded her toe into the grass beneath her. "They've added earthworms and certain bacteria to the soil in order to enhance its fertility. Making this as real as possible for the children has become my wife's biggest hobby at the moment."
"Tottlers won't know the difference. This is the only 'nature' they've ever experienced."
"Yes, but Naomi and the Borg adolescents do." She looked distant and sad for a moment. "Seven wants Icheb and the rest to feel at home here on Voyager for as long as they're with us."
Ro decided that she needed to change the subject, aware that topic was one that shouldn't be pursued with either the captain or her spouse ... all the crew knew that somehow, though how it had gotten around the ship so fast was a mystery to the former security officer. Of course, the Bajoran wasn't that anxious to get to the real reason they were here, either, but the sooner it was out of the way, the sooner she could get away from this body that continued to attract her. In fact, she had to twice draw back her arm as it unconsciously reached out to wrap around the Klingon's shoulders.
"Is there something in particular you wished to talk with me about, Captain."
Janeway lifted her head, the proud ridges defined in the artificial sunlight.
"That's what I've always appreciated about you, Laren. You don't dissemble very often. You're not as straightforward as Seven of course, but you are far easier to converse with than many others in my crew. Perhaps because you're not as intimidated by my rank as you should."
Ro worked her way through that one, wondering if it were a compliment, or some subtle insult of some kind. "Thank you," she said finally, hoping that was the correct response.
Janeway chuckled, a deep, B'Elanna-type chuckle, and Ro knew she had guessed wrong. Despite that, however, she found she was smiling herself. The captain always managed to keep her off balance, the Bajoran never knowing what would happen next with her, and for some odd reason, Ro appreciated that immensely.
"B'Elanna tells me you're having trouble with this ... situation."
Ro hesitated, then sighed ruefully. "I try to get by it, but it's difficult not to see you when I look at her."
"You, of course, are not the slightest bit attracted to me."
Ro grinned faintly. That one was too transparent to let pass.
"It's not that it isn't an attractive body," she said evenly. "Under other circumstances, perhaps I would even find that body worth ... pursuing avidly." She dared a peek out of the corner of her eye, pleased to see that she had thrown the captain a curve, Janeway actually blinking in surprise. "However, as it stands, it's the body of my commanding officer, and that's too much to overcome."
"What if this situation is permanent?"
"I've thought about that," Ro replied honestly. "I guess in that event, I'll eventually adapt, but for the moment, I haven't given up. I believe this condition is reversible, and in the meantime, I have to honor the form."
"Rather than the substance?" Janeway pursed her lips. "There's no way of knowing how long it could be before we find a solution. It could take weeks, months, maybe even years. Can you really maintain that sort of distance from the woman you love?"
Ro didn't like the question, but acknowledged that it was probably a valid one.
"I don't know."
Janeway inhaled. "I do. Sooner or later, the body won't matter any more. It'll be back to who the person really is inside. In that event, I expect you not to hold back from B'Elanna, particularly on my account. That would be unacceptable."
Ro blinked, astounded. "Is that an order, Captain?"
Janeway turned to her, her dark eyes studying the Bajoran intently. "No. This is not the captain speaking at all. It is, however, your friend, Laren. B'Elanna loves you. You love her. Don't let superficial perceptions stand in the way of that."
"I wouldn't call this 'superficial'."
The captain waved her hand casually, another purely Janeway gesture. "Laren, it's only flesh and bone. It's what's inside that really matters."
"Suppose it had been you and Tom who had switched. Would you expect Seven to make love with you in that body?"
Janeway was unable to hold the Bajoran's eyes. "I can't answer that. Gender adds yet another shade to it that fortunately, we don't have to deal with here."
"It shouldn't. After all, it's still flesh and bone, still a matter of perception."
Janeway inhaled deeply. "Damn. You're not going to accept this easily, are you?"
Ro swallowed hard. "I can't afford to."
Surprised at the tone, Janeway glanced at her. "Why not?"
The Bajoran hesitated, and then dipped her head, studying the ground at her feet. "Captain, you may or may not know that B'Elanna and I experienced a period of ... difficulty a while back."
"I knew something was going on," Janeway offered gently. "I wasn't sure what, however, and I didn't feel it my place to ask."
"It had to do with 'Operation Tuvok'." Ro blinked painfully in the sun. "I ended up sharing what happened with B'Elanna." She paused. "Her 'perception' of what I had to do was that I had cheated on her."
She heard an intake of breath from the other woman, a small sip of distress. Obviously, Janeway was keenly aware of the engineer's views on fidelity and honor.
"I'm sorry," she said after a moment. "I authorized that operation. If I had known..."
"What?" Ro injected sardonically. "You would have canceled it? Allowed Tuvok to die?"
Janeway obviously didn't have a response to that, and Ro shook her head.
"Captain, even if I had known B'Elanna's perception of it in advance, it wouldn't have stopped me. This was a matter of life and death, of preserving the existence of someone who was very dear to me. In the end, B'Elanna and I have been able to get by it, but the wound is still a bit raw. I am not going to risk complicating what is still a very fragile bond between us by essentially sleeping with someone else's body. Even if B'Elanna feels she wants to at the moment, it's because she keeps forgetting that she's in that form. Later on, she may question the situation, and I simply don't want to risk it. Not until all our options have been exhausted, and I know it's definitely a long term condition. "
Janeway folded her arms over her chest. "I have to respect your opinion, but I do want you to know that it would not be a complication for me in any way. As long as the situation continues, that body is completely B'Elanna's to do with as she chooses."
Ro nodded. "Very well, Captain. Certainly, you and B'Elanna have to work out your own understanding about the situation. I can only control and take responsibility for myself, and that's what I'm doing."
"It might help B'Elanna if you tell her what you've just told me. Believe me, sometimes we blithely assume certain things about our partners, take certain understandings for granted, only to find out after the fact that we're completely wrong. Recently, Seven and I made certain assumptions about each other as a couple, neither of us bothering to take the time to discuss it, only to discover that we were approaching an issue from completely different viewpoints. By the time we finally did understand that we held such opposing opinions on the situation, it was too late to discuss it rationally, and in the resulting conflict, we hurt each other deeply. While I can't stop you from following the same blind path, I can, at least, warn you about it. Don't make the assumption that your partner is perfectly in tune with your motivations and intentions just because you love each other. That can be a profound error in judgment."
Ro inhaled deeply, understanding how much the intensely private captain was sharing with her. Most of the crew were simply not aware of all the factors that had contributed to the captain and Seven's recent crash landing on a planet. She only knew some of the details because of her relationship with B'Elanna and the engineer's close friendship with the Borg.
"I do ... appreciate what you're telling me, Captain. I'll speak with B'Elanna about this. Obviously, we're not communicating as well as we should, especially if she felt she had to confide in you, rather than me."
"Well, I'm in the unique situation of being the only one that really understands what she is going through," Janeway pointed out. "Hopefully, this won't cause any long-term disruption to either of our respective relationships." She sighed. "Somehow, something like this always sounds far more amusing when you hear about it. Actually living with it is very trying."
"Indeed," Ro agreed quietly. She glanced over at the captain surreptitiously. "I am ... truly grateful for your concern, Captain..."
"But I should mind my own business," Janeway finished dryly. "I've been told that often."
"I mean no disrespect."
"None taken." The captain's mouth twitched. "But you should be aware that it probably won't stop me in the future."
Ro sighed again. "Yes, ma'am," she said in such a resigned tone that the captain laughed out loud, a full-bodied Klingon laugh that made the few other crewmembers wandering the park look over at the women before hastily resuming their attention on their own pursuits.
"Very well, I deserved that one," Janeway said, slapping Ro stingingly on the leg, which surprised both of them considerably. The captain looked suitably chagrined. "Sorry, some of these reflexes definitely belong to the body and not to me."
Ro merely nodded, rather than pointing out that was exactly the reason she wasn't going to pursue any sort of an intimate encounter with B'Elanna at this time. Perception aside, what was really the body and what was really the mind? She didn't know the answer to that, and she wasn't prepared to make a mistake while finding out.
Seven of Nine entered her quarters hesitantly, feeling a sickly tension constrict her neck and shoulders. At one time, coming home was like returning to a safe haven, to a place of comfort and security. Shutting the door behind her was actually shutting out the rest of the ship, and it made it easy for her to distance herself from her duties and responsibilities, giving her the necessary space to gain a proper perspective on them. That was not the case now, nor had it been for weeks, and she hadn't realized how much she needed it until it had been taken away from her. She swallowed hard as she saw her partner sitting on the sofa, several padds scattered over the coffee table in front of her.
Janeway glanced up from her work, the dark, brooding eyes observing her partner keenly.
"Hello, darling."
"Kathryn," Seven responded politely.
The Klingon's face softened into a wistful smile. "It's still very hard for you, isn't it?"
"Shouldn't it be? In the event that I do get used to this, would it not mean that we have given up all hope of things ever returning to normal?"
"I guess so," Janeway said, her eyes turning downward, sadness etching her features.
Seven felt her heart twinge painfully, and she immediately moved over to where her partner was sitting, sinking down next to her as she slipped her arm around the captain's shoulders.
"I do not mean to make this more difficult for you. I do love you, Kathryn."
"But you can't love me in this body," Janeway said unhappily. "You've made that rather clear."
The captain had not said anything about Seven finding reasons to sleep out on the couch for the past week, but obviously, it was bothering her. The Borg felt guilty and she wrapped her other arm around the Klingon, holding her tightly as she pressed her face into the dark wavy hair.
"It is possible," Seven admitted hesitantly, her voice low, "that I would find it too easy to love you in this body." She paused. "It frightens me."
Janeway opened her mouth to speak, stopped, and looked baffled as she considered Seven's words. Her face cleared as comprehension dawned.
"I see," she said finally, with great care. "I knew you were briefly attracted to B'Elanna." She turned her head, looking at Seven directly. "Are you afraid that if you stop fighting the situation, that it might not be me that you're letting yourself love but rather, B'Elanna Torres in some way?"
"Yes," Seven whispered. "It is her body, after all."
"Oh, darling," Janeway said, leaning into her. "I'm sorry. I didn't even think of that. I thought it was ... well, something else." She sighed. "Making assumptions again, I'm afraid."
Seven inhaled slowly. "I am sorry, Kathryn." Her voice was hard as she felt self-disgust for her lack of control seep through her. "I should not be attracted to B'Elanna's body."
"You're married, Seven, you're not dead," Janeway said dryly. "Darling, there are some people we meet that we can't help but be attracted to. I know that you would never do anything to betray me or the vows that we shared." She tilted her head, studying her partner's face intently. "This has been tying you up in knots, hasn't it? Not much wonder you didn't feel comfortable sharing a bed with me."
"I am ashamed," Seven whispered, bending her head.
Janeway brushed her lips over the Borg's forehead. "For being Human? For having a purely physical response to a person you otherwise like, admire and care for? I think you're being far too hard on yourself ... certainly far harder than I would ever be on you. Or B'Elanna, if she knew about it."
"You must not tell her," Seven said, alarmed, opening her eyes wide as she lifted her face to look at her partner.
Janeway patted her back. "Darling, this isn't the black and white situation that you want to turn it into," she said comfortingly. "There are all kinds of grey shades here."
"Perhaps, but I still do not wish B'Elanna to know of this. It would harm our friendship."
The captain stared at her, her face troubled, but she nodded. "I promise, I won't tell her. It's completely your decision."
"Thank you," Seven said, and exhaled, resting her temple against her partner's, suddenly feeling very weary.
Janeway seemed to sense that. "You're exhausting yourself over this," she noted ruefully, reaching up to rub the back of Seven's neck. "I think we all are to a certain extent."
"I am tired," Seven admitted.
Tired of always being on edge around her partner, tired of being careful of how she acted around B'Elanna in the captain's body ... so tired of this whole situation. She felt like weeping even though she knew she had to be strong for Kathryn who was, after all, experiencing the most difficult aspect of the whole thing. She gulped, forcing back a sob, not quite managing it.
"Oh, darling," Janeway whispered, pulling Seven's head down onto her shoulder. "Don't hold it all in like this."
"You need me to be strong," the Borg insisted, finding it hard to breathe.
"Not at the moment," Janeway said, regret staining her voice. "I'm sorry, Annika. I certainly didn't mean for you to think that you needed to remain strong for the entire duration of this situation. I just needed you desperately that first night. Let it out, love. I'm right here, regardless of the body."
Seven buried her face in the crook of her spouse's shoulder, no longer noticing that it was more muscular than what she was normally used to. She merely cried until the tears simply wouldn't flow anymore. When she finished, she realized she had slid down until she was resting her head on Janeway's lap, the captain stroking her blonde hair with familiar gentleness, having freed it from its austere bun.
The Borg supposed that she should get up, but that would mean that she would have to face the situation again, so instead, she remained right where she was, her eyes closed, feeling the tender fingers run through her hair with soothing ... and very familiar ... regularity.
"I think that tonight, you should go to bed, and stay in it until morning," Janeway said finally. "Whatever you think might be behind you wanting to be with me, I don't believe for a moment that this body has anything to do with it. The very fact that you're worried about it means you care for me and honor our marriage far more than your own desires. You have not, nor will you ever betray me. Is that sufficient for you?"
Seven considered it. "It is."
Janeway kissed her temple gently, leaning over her. "Tonight, it'll be just you and me ... and what body I'm in will be completely irrelevant." Seven breathed quietly, absorbed in the touch of the captain's lips on her cheek. Janeway seemed to sense that, and she made a soft sound of amusement, taking the opportunity to nuzzle her further. "In the meantime, however," she whispered in the young woman's ear, "how about some dinner? My treat."
Seven smiled. "Your cooking is not always a treat."
"Ah, but I'm so good with finger foods," the captain returned, her voice a caress over her partner even in her current form. "Very well, what would you like?"
"I think I would like to remain in your arms a little longer," Seven whispered, relaxing as she accepted her partner's presence, finally able to get past the incongruity of the body to be with the woman she loved. She had allowed her fears to dictate her actions for too long. It was time to believe in her beloved spouse, to know appearance was irrelevant and it was the essence that mattered.
"Oh, I can arrange that as well," Janeway said, pulling Seven a little closer. The Borg noticed that she did so easily, lifting the young woman's torso where it lay across her and arranging them into a more comfortable position with barely an effort.
"I think you enjoy being stronger." Seven was turned now, her back supported by the arm of the sofa, looking up at her partner as Janeway cradled her in her arms. Gently, she reached up and touched the captain's chin lightly, tracing the features with tender fingertips, seeing not her friend now, but her partner.
Janeway chuckled. "I'll admit, I sort of miss the physical advantage those nanoprobes gave me." She tilted her face slightly to offer more access to the Borg's explorative touch. "To be in this body is like having them again ... only more so."
"Is there anything else that has been of particular note to you?" Seven asked curiously, moving over the strong cheekbones, delighting in how smooth and warm Janeway's olive skin was.
"My temper is a little more ... on edge," Janeway admitted. "In fact, I almost took off Chakotay's head today over something that was really quite innocuous." She paused, her dark eyes thoughtful. "I've always believed that B'Elanna's bad temper sprang from lack of discipline, that it was a result of her youth and inexperience with Starfleet. Now I realize how wrong I was. There is a real physiological reaction inside this body that enhances anger and aggression, and it takes all my command training to curb it. In truth, I'm beginning to think that B'Elanna is far more restrained than I've ever given her credit for."
Seven considered it. "Engineering usually requires a disciplined and ordered mind. Her skills are second to none."
"That's a good point." Janeway looked down into Seven's face, studying it intently. "I should tell you that it's not just my temper that's edgy. Other impulses are equally strong, and I'm finding that I have to constantly keep a tight rein on them."
"Which impulses?"
"Desire, attraction..." Janeway inhaled slowly. "Even now, holding you like this, I have this incredible urge to take you and ravish you right here on the sofa."
Seven raised an eyebrow. "Indeed?" she said evenly, though a sharp chill of interest shivered through her.
Janeway swallowed, her throat moving visibly. "That should be the main reason that nothing should happen between us while I'm in this body. It's too powerful, and I'm not sure that I could control it if I indulged these passions." She paused. "I'm not going to risk the possibility that I might hurt you in some way. B'Elanna can probably control herself in an emotional situation like making love ... I don't have the necessary experience to do the same. I've heard horror stories about how Klingons mate, and I never want to put you through that."
"Regardless, Kathryn," Seven said seriously, tracing her fingertips tentatively over the brow ridges, "you are not Klingon, nor do I think you're taking into account that I am still more powerful than you physically, despite your new form." Yet, when she looked deep into the captain's dark eyes, there was still a shadow of fear marring them. Obviously, Janeway was deeply afraid of physically harming her spouse. For some reason, the Borg knew it was important to get past this, particularly if this switch turned out to be permanent.
"I do not believe you are capable of physically hurting me," she said firmly, cupping the captain's cheek in her palm. "But if you did so inadvertently, then know that I would always forgive you for it."
Janeway raised her head, inhaling again, and Seven realized the captain was actually smelling her as she sniffed the air. It intrigued her on some primitive level.
"Hurting you is unacceptable, darling, inadvertent or not."
"Your conclusion that you will definitely cause me harm is faulty. The mind is far more powerful than the body. You taught me that on Icinus, did you not?" Seven closed the distance between them, covering her partner's mouth with her own.
For an instant, Janeway did not respond, either surprised or reluctant, before what sounded like a growl rumbled up from her chest and her lips parted, taking command of the kiss. Seven felt the sharp points of Janeway's teeth rake lightly over her tongue, then her mouth was invaded by the captain's tongue, demanding, imperious, taking possession of her. It was different and unfamiliar, but it was also very erotic. Seven reacted to it with a soft moan in the back of her throat.
With an effort, Janeway wrenched her mouth away, turning her head.
"This is not a good idea, Annika," she said, exasperation and desire making her voice thick. "I don't know that I can restrain myself."
"You can and you will," Seven said with complete conviction, and kissed her spouse again, with no little demand of her own. "Have faith in yourself, Kathryn. Have faith in us. We love each other, and that is stronger than any situation, no matter how odd or challenging. I did not understand that before, lost in my own uncertainties, but now I realize that we must face this situation together. We must make love. Otherwise, we are allowing our fears to compromise our relationship."
Perhaps it was the words that convinced her, or perhaps the captain simply could not resist her body's demands any longer. The growl was louder this time, more distinct, and before Seven knew it, she was being lifted up into the air and carried easily by the other woman as she strode briskly to the bedroom.
"Kathryn?" the Borg whispered, shocked and thrilled as she slid her arms around the captain's neck.
"I've always wanted to do that," Janeway muttered as she lowered Seven onto the bed.
"Now I understand why you enjoy it so much. It is very stimulating."
"Just remember it," Janeway said dryly. "I doubt I'll ever have the opportunity to do it in my real form." She straightened, unfastening her uniform tunic. "Take off your clothes," she commanded as she shrugged out of the garment and tugged her sweater free of her waistband.
Seven raised an eyebrow and the captain paused.
"Please," Janeway added silkily, her head tilted slightly as she regarded her with burning eyes. "Darling."
Smiling faintly, Seven reached up to the back of her neck and released the seal on her biometric outfit, wiggling out of it quickly. By the time she was done, a nude Klingon had joined her on the sheets, reaching out for her and pulling her close.
"Tell me immediately if I cross the line," Janeway commanded huskily.
"I shall," Seven promised, then found her mouth covered passionately once more.
Janeway's body was literally hot, as if fevered, and Seven realized that the Klingon physiology boasted a temperature several degrees warmer than either of them. Perspiring freely, the captain's warm, brown skin glistened in the low illumination of the bedroom, contrasting sharply with Seven's fairer body. Janeway's hands were more demanding as well, stronger in their caress ... not unpleasant, but far more insistent than Janeway tended to be, even when fully aroused. Seven did not object, however, intrigued by this encounter, appreciating the diversity of it. Now that her doubts and fears had been assuaged by the understanding of her partner, she felt completely free to indulge in the experience.
Janeway also seemed to be discovering differences, and Seven was fascinated when the captain guided the Borg's fingers to the small of her back.
"Touch me there."
"Why?"
"Just do it," Janeway said breathlessly. "Hard. Massage around the bone there."
Seven obeyed and was surprised at how loudly Janeway cried out in her pleasure.
"God, that's so good," the captain said, her head falling backward almost helplessly. "I've never felt anything like it."
Seven rolled them over so that Janeway was on her back and the Borg was on top of her. As she continued to knead her fingers into the muscles at the base of Janeway's spine, she took the opportunity to trail down the captain's chest and fall upon those plump little nipples that had so intrigued her in the past. Janeway yelped in pleasure and tangled her fingers in Seven's blonde hair, holding the Borg's head to her as Seven licked and sucked them.
"More," Janeway demanded. "Bite them."
Seven did so, tentatively at first, then a little harder as the captain encouraged her, her teeth closing on the nub firmly, gnawing it tenderly before moving over to do the same to the other, the oral caress making Janeway almost delirious with joy.
"God, I take it back," the captain husked. "There is something to be said for Klingon sex."
Seven suspected that the information that the captain had received pertaining to the subject had been flawed. Certainly, Ro did not sport the bruises and cuts that Tom Paris had boasted about, and the Borg's research into the sexual practices of the species did not indicate an abusive interaction ... merely a passionate one. This was certainly passionate, not to mention quite strenuous. Seven found that she was grateful that this was not Janeway's normal physiology ... if the captain was hard enough to keep up to in a Human form, it would be impossible to do so on a regular basis with a Klingon form.
She moved quickly over the muscular stomach that flexed powerfully under her lips, nuzzling the dark thatch of hair at the juncture. Janeway's legs immediately parted, welcoming her in, and Seven inhaled the unfamiliar, yet provocatively enticing scent. Peering at the vulnerable flesh, the Borg wondered what the extra little bump beneath the clitoris was. Nothing in her research of Klingon anatomy had indicated anything about it, and curiously, she opened her mouth and touched it with the tip of her tongue, generating a howl from Janeway that startled Seven and caused Jake to break into furious barking out in the living area.
Intrigued, she tasted the top one and caused an even louder outcry.
"Good god, Annika, what are you doing?" Janeway exclaimed.
"Cunnilingus," Seven replied, baffled at the question. She thought what she was doing was rather obvious.
"I know that," Janeway said, a touch of exasperation edging her tone. "Why does it feel like you're doing it twice?"
"There are two nerve bundles here."
"There are?"
"You did not examine your new body?" Seven was surprised. "Either through tactile or visual means?" It would have been the first thing she'd have explored, she thought.
There was a pause, and Seven lifted her head to peer up the length of her partner into sheepish eyes. "I ... never really got around to it," Janeway admitted bashfully. "Not that intimately, anyway. It seemed ... presumptuous, somehow."
"I see," Seven muttered, though she did not at all, and returned her attention to the body parts in question. She carefully kissed each of the two ridges with her lips, dipping briefly in the opening to gather moisture with her tongue, tasting it and spreading it over the dual nubs.
Janeway was obviously having trouble breathing ... and keeping her eyes open, her body twitching abruptly at every touch. "Darling, if you only knew how good that feels."
"I believe the lower protrusion is a secondary clitoris," Seven determined with scientific dispassion, pulling back to look at them again. "It is slightly smaller, but appears just as sensitive. This physical attribute must be unique to Lt. Torres ... undoubtedly because she is a hybrid ... since Klingon anatomy texts do not indicate anything about dual clitori."
"Lucky, lucky B'Elanna," Janeway gasped. "Are you going to study them all night or are you going to do something with them?"
Seven shot a glance at her partner. "Such as?" She leaned down and flicked the top one again with the tip of her tongue. "This?"
"That's good," Janeway noted approvingly.
"This?" Seven swirled around the lower one.
"Better," Janeway said.
"This?" Seven insisted indistinctly as she covered them with her mouth and proceeded to lick them both lavishly.
Janeway's response was completely incoherent.
The taste of her partner was stronger than before, creamier, certainly saltier and sweeter at the same time. The consistency was also thicker, and Seven found herself swallowing far more than she normally did. It did not give her pause however, as she feasted joyously on the woman she loved without reserve. The muscular thighs closed about her head, locking her in place, and it occurred to her that she should finish this quickly before she ran out of air. Then suddenly, almost without warning, Janeway was shuddering beneath her, the opening fluttering around Seven's tongue, a rush of moisture flooding out to bath the Borg's face. She could hear another howl, muffled as it was by the strong legs pressed against her ears, and realized why the crewmembers on deck nine, section twelve were so adamant with their complaints about the noise. Even at her most vocal, Janeway simply could not reach that decible level in her own body.
Suitably impressed with herself, Seven released her partner and crawled up the stocky form, immediately captured in a powerful embrace, the kiss threatening to steal the very breath from her lungs. They rolled over, Janeway on top, pinning her down, and Seven fought the grasp on her wrists briefly, knowing she could break them, but only after a struggle which was not what she wanted. Instead, she submitted to the deep kisses of the captain, feeling completely overwhelmed by them.
"You're so beautiful," Janeway growled, pressing down on her, covering her with pleasure as she kissed along Seven's neck.
"Kathryn," Seven whispered. "Make love to me."
"Yes," Janeway said, biting her throat, but not breaking the skin.
Indeed, the captain seem to pause to gather herself at that instant, before continuing her kisses over the plane of Seven's chest, mouthing the full breasts aggressively, but gently, as if the control she had been so afraid of losing had turned out not to be a factor at all. Seven gasped as the captain pulled the Borg's left breast completely into her mouth, feeling the nipple impact on the back of Janeway's throat.
"Kathryn!"
"Did you like that?" Janeway muttered after she released it.
"Yes," Seven hissed.
Janeway smiled briefly and did the same to the other, each swell left shiny from her saliva, cooling in the night air as the captain began to caress the pink nipples, swirling her thick tongue over each one, nipping at them lightly, making them ache. As she did, she slipped her hand between them, seeking out Seven, rubbing the intimate flesh, the sound sticky amid the gasps and moans of the two women. Janeway was about to enter her, but stopped before Seven could object to the fact that the captain's fingers were now thicker than before. Instead, the captain reached over to the night stand drawer, retrieving a jar of lubrication they kept there all the time. Seven was impressed by how easily Janeway stretched across the bed, how very lithe and flexible the younger body was, and she wondered if perhaps Janeway might not want to have her old form back.
She made a mental note to ask her spouse about that later.
Her fingers now covered with the silky lubrication, Janeway carefully penetrated the Borg with her middle finger while her thumb fondled the sensitive ridge and her mouth continued to lave her breasts hungrily. Seven spread her legs wide, pushing against the finger thrusting deep into her, feeling it move ever so close to that blockage inside that, she discovered with some surprise, had its own unique sensitivity, anticipating a touch that was not quite there. She had first noticed this new tenderness while Janeway had utilized the accessory in the holodeck, how there actually seemed to be new nerve endings of some kind in the scar tissue, but had dismissed it as having to do with the sensation of the probe's head pushing against it. Now, however, the fingertip that remained tantalizingly beyond its reach was enough to drive her crazy, and she realized something had changed physically within her.
"Deeper," she gasped, obviously startling the captain who shot her an odd look from beneath her lashes, but Janeway obeyed, worming her finger as deep as it would go, barely brushing over the internal tissue which sent chills of delight through the Borg. Seven did not know where this new sensitivity sprang from, suspecting it had to do with some form of adaptation of her nanoprobes, but she was certainly grateful for it.
"Oh ... Kathryn," she exclaimed happily as she felt Janeway push her ring finger in her lower entrance, the lubrication making it slip in with unusual ease.
The captain's hand was strong, making Seven feel even more taken by her partner than usual, flexing inside her with familiar, yet slightly different pleasure. Suddenly, the thumb pressed forcefully on her nub, the middle fingertip rasped over the new spot inside and the other finger reached further into her rear channel than Seven had ever been penetrated before. The resulting climax almost tossed Janeway from the bed, the captain yelping in surprise, and she inadvertently bit the nipple harder than she probably intended as Seven spasmed helplessly beneath her . The minor pain was lost in the pleasure that swept Seven up with its demand, leaving her shaken and completely sated when it finally abated.
"Kathryn," she mumbled, wrapping her arms tightly around her partner's neck. "You were wonderful."
"Apparently so."
But her dark eyes were vaguely confused and a little troubled ... though Seven did not understand why.
B'Elanna Torres cursed a bit under her breath as she skinned her knuckles on the console in front of her. She was a little cranky because of a conversation with Ro Laren who made it quite clear that as long as the engineer was in this body, there would be no shared intimacy ... at least for the foreseeable future. They could kiss, they could cuddle, but when they went to bed, there was to be no hanky panky of any kind. She supposed she could understand the Bajoran's view to a certain extent, but it didn't mean she necessarily had to like it at all.
"Bridge to Lt. Torres."
She glanced up. "Torres here."
"You should come to the bridge," Chakotay told her in a low voice. "This includes you."
In the background, B'Elanna could vaguely hear other voices and realized that something was going on around the commander as he communicated with her.
"On my way," she said, her interest piqued.
When she stepped off the turbolift onto the bridge, she was struck by the captain's pose down on the lower level, her hands on her hips, her Klingon head held high. B'Elanna was impressed at how damned heroic her body appeared in that pose. She rather wished she had the Doctor's holo-imager so she could make a permanent record of it.
Then her attention was taken by the alien on the viewscreen dominating the fore part of the bridge. He was mostly nose, she thought, with a huge snout that dominated his face like an elephant's trunk, while his ears swept up the sides of his head like wings on one of Tom Paris's antique cars. His eyes were large and the most unique violet that B'Elanna had ever seen. The combination should have been repulsive but for some reason, she found it oddly attractive. She wondered if it was her mind thinking that or her body reacting in a way that she didn't care to examine too closely.
She drifted along the upper level until she was next to Harry.
"What's up?" she muttered out of the corner of her mouth.
He glanced at her, his voice low. "He's a trader. I think he knows what happened to you and the captain."
Definitely interested now, B'Elanna focused on the conversation going on between Janeway and the alien who was apparently named Trevis, though that was not immediately apparent to the engineer because he had an odd way of referring to himself in the third person.
"Trevis wonders, did you find this funny?"
"Not at all, Merchant," Janeway responded with an edge in her tone. "It has been very inconvenient."
"Agreed, the Borja are not funny," Trevis agreed. "But think they are, they do."
"Are you saying this was ... a joke?" The outrage was clear in the captain's voice.
"Yes, tricksters, they are," Trevis revealed. "Outsiders are fair game, and the more upset they are made, the funnier is the joke."
Janeway's voice dropped to a low register. "Can you tell me where to find these ... tricksters?"
He eyed her for a moment. Though he had to be unfamiliar with that particular note in the captain's voice, no doubt he suspected it boded ill for someone. He grinned, showing big, flat teeth.
"Trevis will send planetary coordinates," the merchant said. "But be upset, and they will think that is funny indeed. Maybe decide you are perfect for future jokes and you will have no choice. Borja technology is very advanced, far more advanced than yours."
Janeway lifted her head thoughtfully. "I ... see. I'll keep that in mind, Merchant. We thank you."
"Do not thank Trevis," he reminded pointedly. "Pay Trevis instead."
She dipped her head in acknowledgment. "As soon as we receive the coordinates, we will transport over the agreed upon goods."
"Send Trevis goods first," he said suspiciously.
"We will send half now and the other half when we have the coordinates," Janeway countered.
He hesitated, then nodded. "Trevis agrees."
The screen went blank and Janeway glanced back at Chakotay. "Inform transporter room one to send half the containers. Send the others when we have the location of the Borja."
He nodded and the captain's eyes intersected with B'Elanna's. The engineer wrinkled her nose.
"A joke?" she asked pointedly.
"Seems that way."
"I'm not laughing."
"None of us are," Janeway agreed. She frowned faintly. "However, if what Trevis says is true, then it would not be wise to let the Borja know we didn't find it humorous."
"Are you going to just ask them nicely if they'll switch you back?" Chakotay offered from his chair.
Janeway favored him with a speculative look.
"No," she said slowly, "I don't think that would work any more than presenting an outraged front would." She took a seat and, with a distant look in her dark eyes, regarded the fore viewscreen that was now displaying a starfield.
"In fact," she said. "I think we need to be a little tricky ourselves."
B'Elanna blinked and wondered what the captain had in mind. The tone of her voice was somewhat odd, and the engineer felt something unpleasant skitter down her back. Had Seven been present, she could have told the engineer that it was a perfectly natural reaction to the captain when she developed that mood. When Janeway was about to start scheming, no one was particularly safe.
But Seven was not present and B'Elanna decided that there was no point of her being on the bridge right now either. The real excitement wouldn't start until they reached the Borja home system. She flicked a glance at Harry in farewell, then vacated the bridge. Not really in the mood to return to the engine room, she made a detour to her quarters on deck four. As she walked into the spacious suite she had just moved into, she was struck by the fact that this was now her home ... hers and Ro's.
She sat down on the sofa, looking around the living area with a quiet pleasure, the decor one of cool blues and greens, with a distinctly subtle Bajoran flavor threading through it, contrasted nicely by the splashes of red and purple that were pure Klingon. Through a nearby door was a separate and fairly large bedroom, definitely something she was quickly adapting to. Of course, as chief engineer, she had always held the option of taking larger quarters because of her senior officer status, but she had never availed herself of the privilege, preferring to remain in a simple crew cabin on deck nine next to her beloved engines. For six years, she had lived in a single room with an attached ensuite that was only large enough to provide a sonic shower. This ensuite actually had a tub in addition to a hydro-sonic shower, though neither of the women had yet taken the opportunity to avail themselves of the former's whirlpool function.
B'Elanna decided that it felt good to see the dining area and contemplate the dinners she and Ro would share, or put her feet up on the coffee table, thinking about how the pair of them would snuggle up together on the couch. Of course, this was dependent on her getting her own body back, or the couple somehow getting past the fact that the captain was now a part of the relationship in a fairly immediate, if indirect, way. She sighed as she leaned back against the cushions, resting her head on the back of the couch, looking up at the windows that dominated this area of the suite.
The hiss of the door startled her and she raised her eyes to see Ro enter. The Bajoran lifted an eyebrow when she saw her, but she didn't hesitate in coming over to join her on the sofa, slipping her arm around the engineer's shoulders.
"I heard about the Borja."
"Can you imagine?" B'Elanna said wearily. "It's all a joke. They drop dummy ships into space keyed with these devices, and then see what happens when some other species picks them up to examine them, getting a big belly laugh the entire time."
Ro hugged her briefly. "At least, it will be over soon."
B'Elanna rested her head on the taller woman's shoulder. "Not soon enough for me."
"For either of us." Ro paused and brushed her lips over the other woman's forehead. "I know it's been difficult for you to comprehend my view on this, Lanna. I want to thank you for being so understanding."
"Hey," B'Elanna said, patting her on the knee, "when we moved in together, I promised I would always try to find a way to work things out between us."
"Still, that's not always easy to do. I know you want us to be more intimate right now. I'm just finding that impossible with the captain's body. Thank you for giving me this leeway."
B'Elanna growled, or at least, attempted to. "Just remember to spend a lot of time 'thanking' me in a more concrete fashion after I get my old body back."
"I promise." Ro smiled. "For days and days and days."
"I'll remind you of it," B'Elanna said with satisfaction, relaxing into her partner's arms. As she did, she realized that 'partner' was exactly how she was coming to view the Bajoran. Not just her lover or even merely the woman that she loved, but the single person who was going to share every aspect of her life in the future. She wondered if Ro felt the same way.
"Lanna?"
"Yes?"
"I love you."
B'Elanna blinked. To her knowledge, it was the first time Ro had ever said it to her first, without her prompting it by saying it to the Bajoran ... or possibly when they were in bed together. B'Elanna couldn't always remember the details when they made love, especially pertaining to who said what first.
"I love you, too," she whispered huskily.
She closed her eyes and let the woman hold her, feeling as if this ship was her home finally, and not just something she had to tolerate until they were back in the Alpha Quadrant. As she settled against her partner, she allowed herself to drift off, assured that she would be safe in these arms for as long as she needed to be held.
"Senior officers to the bridge."
The call woke her up and she blinked, her thoughts muddled. She had fallen asleep, and so had Ro, spooned together on the sofa as the afternoon passed ... like an old married couple or something. B'Elanna felt somewhat appalled that she had just left her duty shift without telling anyone, but she also knew that if engineering had needed her, they would have called.
"On my way," she muttered, rolling out of the comforting arms of the Bajoran who was also sitting up with a dazed expression.
"I fell asleep," Ro said, an astounded tone in her voice.
B'Elanna shot her a look of amusement. "You've been pulling a lot of double shifts," she said as she popped a mouth freshener from the bowl on the table, feeling the mint permeate the interior that had become dry from her nap. "But it sounds like things are happening. I've just been called to the bridge."
"Maybe I'd better go, too," Ro said, standing up and stretching slightly. She accepted a mint from the engineer and together, the women left their quarters and headed for the turbolift.
Stepping out onto the bridge for the second time that day, B'Elanna was aware of a full crew complement at their posts, including Seven of Nine who was covering the aft tactical station. Standing imperiously on the lower command level, Janeway regarded the fore viewscreen that held the impressive miens of five elder statesmen types, the ruling council of the Borja. They were looking at the captain of Voyager with mingled astonishment and outrage.
"Would you repeat that, Captain Kathryn Janeway?" the middle one, obviously the chairman of the board, said.
"You must have more of the devices," the captain said in a silky tone that B'Elanna immediately recognized as the captain's best diplomatic intonation. Moving unobtrusively, B'Elanna took over the engineering station from Susan Nicoletti as Ro drifted over to stand near Tuvok at tactical. "Being switched with a younger crewmember has worked to my benefit, as I'm sure it will with the rest of the older, intellectually superior members of our society," Janeway went on persuasively. "We're willing to trade significant amounts of goods for more of those ships. Plus, the vessels themselves are very attractive. They'll make our hangar deck appear so impressive."
B'Elanna stared at her, wondering what the hell she was talking about. The Borja also seemed stymied.
"You are not angry?"
Janeway spread her hands out, looking baffled. "Why would I be angry?" she asked with what seemed honest puzzlement. "Indeed, I'm grateful for the new vistas you have opened up for my people. I intend to return to our homeworld and share this experience with them. I'm sure as soon as they hear, you will receive countless of our wealthier citizens also wishing to partake of this device."
B'Elanna frowned and glanced at the five Borja leaders who were exchanging chagrined glances, actual anger appearing on their faces.
"That is impossible," the leader finally said, his face twisted with displeasure. "Captain Janeway, it is obvious that you and your people have no sense of humor. In fact, you're completely unprincipled. You are totally unsuited for our purpose. Begone."
There was an abrupt jolt, a sudden flash of light, and B'Elanna felt a wrenching deep inside herself. When she came to, she was lying on the deck of the lower command level, and before she made her next inhalation, she knew that things were somehow back to where they should be. Hesitantly, she sat up and looked around. Everyone else seemed to be coming out of a daze as well, straightening at their posts and blinking in confusion.
"Captain, our sensors indicate we're no longer in orbit around Borja," Tom said, peering at his board in confusion as he frantically input commands. "In fact, we've been flung approximately twenty light-years away ... unfortunately, not in the direction of the Alpha Quadrant. We're next to some kind of nebula."
"Captain, the hangar deck reports that the Borja vessel has ... vanished," Chakotay said, keying his board as B'Elanna slowly made her way to her feet. "Transported completely off Voyager somehow." He paused. "That's not all. The coordinates of the Borja homeworld have been wiped from the computer. They weren't taking any chances of us returning in a hurry."
"I guess they don't like it when the joke is on them," B'Elanna noted wryly and glanced over at the engineering station where Janeway was straightening. The captain caught her eye and the blue-grey eyes twinkled, making the engineer smile. "Please, don't throw me in that nasty old briar patch, Brier Fox," the Klingon added sardonically.
"They obviously never read Brier Rabbit's story," the captain said as she stood up from behind the engineering console. She raised her head. "If you don't mind, Lieutenant, I think I'd like my uniform back."
B'Elanna smiled widely and looked down at herself, at the red band of command across her shoulders, reaching up to feel the four pips on her collar.
"Aw, Captain, can't I keep it?"
Gradually it began to sink into the minds of the rest of the bridge crew just what had really happened, and B'Elanna looked over at Ro, offering her a brief nod. The Bajoran looked tremendously relieved and returned the nod, smiling faintly. Seven of Nine was more forceful, coming down to the command level to meet Janeway, peering intently into her eyes.
"Kathryn?"
"It's me," Janeway assured her, touching the Borg's forearm briefly. "The plan worked. If there's one thing a practical joker doesn't like, it's when the joke doesn't work at all ... to the point where no one even knows a joke has been played. Get mad at them, and they'd be tickled, but be completely oblivious to all their effort and they're horrified."
"I guess they decided we just lacked the intellect to appreciate their 'refined sense of humor'." Chakotay eyed B'Elanna with a faint grin. "Uh, your orders, Captain Torres?"
"Very funny," B'Elanna snorted, but she smiled as the rest of the crew broke into laughter ... though she noted that a good part of it seemed to stem from relief rather than amusement. She glanced over and saw Seven and the captain were still standing together just below Tuvok's tactical station, staring into each other's eyes with complete absorption. Neither made any move to touch the other, but the sheer intensity of their gaze was enough to melt duranium. When Janeway finally dropped her eyes and moved away, there was a faint rosiness to her cheeks, and her eyes were as blue as the engineer could ever remember seeing them.
Obediently, B'Elanna made way for the captain as Janeway reclaimed her command chair, regardless of the gold and black colors of operations that she still wore. The Klingon suddenly felt self-conscious, knowing she lacked the elegance to pull off the uniform she had on, and she tugged at her collar uncomfortably.
"If you don't mind, Captain, I think I'll change."
Janeway eyed her with amusement. "That might be a good idea," she agreed. "For both of us. However, let's limit it to the uniforms this time."
Amid further laughter, B'Elanna blushed and made her way to the upper level. There, Seven was regarding her steadily. "May I speak with you, B'Elanna?" the Borg asked in a low voice.
Startled, B'Elanna frowned, then nodded. Unobtrusively, both women drifted over to the conference room.
"What's this about?" B'Elanna asked once the door had shut behind them. She was completely unprepared when Seven abruptly reached out with one hand, slipping it around her neck and pulling her forward as she kissed her passionately.
Too shocked to immediately object, B'Elanna nonetheless took the time to note that the Borg was a remarkably good kisser ... though not as good as Ro. Reminded keenly of her partner, she pulled away with a jerk, outraged.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Seven?" she sputtered, covering her mouth with the palm of her hand.
Seven regarded her coolly. "My apologies, B'Elanna, but I had to find out."
"Find out what?" B'Elanna asked, baffled.
Seven shook her head soberly. "It is not important. Now I understand it was not you that caused such emotional reaction within me, it was always the captain. You are my friend, and I love you for it ... but Kathryn is and always shall be the only one I will ever truly love in this way."
"Huh?" B'Elanna remarked, but before she could say another word, Seven left the conference room, the Klingon staring after her in complete and utter confusion.
Aware that something profound had happened, but not having a clue as to what.
Janeway felt very old and tired as she entered her quarters, disappointed to find that her partner was not there even though both their duty shifts had officially ended two hours earlier. In fact, she realized that she hadn't seen Seven since she had left the bridge much earlier, and Janeway wondered uneasily if the young woman was avoiding her for some reason.
Or maybe she just doesn't want to deal with a cranky old captain, her little voice noted snidely as Janeway moved over to the sofa and sat down. She groaned faintly as she took stock of herself, noting that there were parts of her that ached in completely unfamiliar ways, and she wondered what B'Elanna had done to her body while she had been using it. She studied the knuckles on her left hand with a frown, noting that they had been skinned recently, the superficial wound still a little raw.
Or perhaps B'Elanna had just been living her life normally, forgetting that she was in a creaky old Human form that simply couldn't take what a twenty-seven-year-old Klingon could, she thought sourly.
Jake came over, as if sensing her disquiet, and rested his head on her leg, looking up at her with dark brown eyes. Apparently he was taking her switch back completely in stride, and she smiled at him faintly, comforted as she scratched behind his ears.
The door hissed open and she glanced up to see Seven enter, her sleek, young form lithe in the skintight biometric outfit. Her stride was light and powerful, and Janeway, for just an instant, was keenly envious.
"Where have you been?" she asked, hearing the testiness in her tone and wishing she had been more circumspect in her intonation.
Seven, however, took no notice of it, coming over immediately to the sofa and sitting down close to the captain.
"I was in sickbay," she replied, "undergoing several medical scans."
Her irritation immediately disappearing, Janeway peered anxiously at her partner. "Is something wrong?"
Seven shook her head. "No. But I have experienced certain physiological changes recently."
"Like what?" Janeway was even more alarmed, feeling her heart twinge painfully.
"It is the specific bundle of nerve endings that has been designated as a 'g-spot'. It has been moved from the lower part of my pelvis to the barrier of scar tissue where my vagina terminates."
Completely dumbfounded, Janeway stared at her. "What?"
"My 'g-spot' has moved from my--" Seven began to repeat patiently and Janeway held up a hand, interrupting her.
"I know what you said," she noted, and the testiness was back in her voice. "I want to know what you meant. 'G-spots' don't move, Seven. It's not like you can slap a tractor beam on them and haul them around the ship. It's just not possible."
"Apparently it is," Seven countered neatly. "Mine was originally just inside my upper pelvic region as in a normal Human female and I had believed it removed when the Borg removed my reproductive organs. Instead, it must have been included in the tissue folded over to create the barrier where my cervix should be, and the connection from it to the rest of my nervous system has finally regenerated, allowing me to finally detect sensation when stimulated."
Janeway was at a complete loss for words.
"Why now?" she managed finally.
"I do not know, but it is the reason why I was able to respond so favorably to the accessory in the holodeck scenario, as well as why my climax was so intense during our last sexual encounter." She paused, looking thoughtful. "And possibly why I have not responded to certain of your caresses as I once did. My nerve endings have adapted to recieving sensation from another portion of my anatomy."
Janeway inhaled slowly, wondering if other people went through this with their spouses. Somehow, she doubted it. She pressed her fingertips against the middle of her forehead.
"How did you discover this?" she asked, not sure she wanted to know.
Seven frowned. "I was aware of a new sensitivity where previously there had been none. I asked Sek to run some tests to determine what was causing it."
"Sek?"
Seven looked at her. "I am no longer as comfortable with the Doctor regarding certain matters as I am with her."
"Fair enough," Janeway muttered, still feeling stunned. "So she discovered that your ... uh ... 'g-spot' had 'migrated'."
"Yes."
Janeway hesitated, then took a deep breath. "By any chance, will it now be remaining where it is or will it be taking future journeys to other parts of your anatomy?" she asked politely.
Seven considered that, blinking. "I do not know." She looked intrigued by the notion, as if wondering what it would be like to have a 'g-spot' on her elbow.
"Oh, god," Janeway groaned, closing her eyes as a headache feathered along her temples. She realized, of course, that because of her assimilation at such a young age, Seven was in the unique position of having Borg attributes in her physiology that other ex-drones did not. Unlike an adult, or even the younger Borg children who were still growing, Seven's implants simply could not be removed entirely, her body having 'grown' around them, and sometimes that meant they reacted in strange and sometimes, even wondrous ways.
"Are you all right, Kathryn?" Seven asked, reaching over to place her hand warmly against the small of her back.
"I'm not sure," Janeway said dryly, but she leaned gratefully into the familiar caress with a faint sigh. "I guess I'm just getting used to my old body again." She twitched uncomfortably. "Emphasis on the 'old'."
Seven frowned and brought her hands up Janeway's back for a soothing shoulder massage. "You are not old," she told her firmly. "Or rather, while you are indeed, older than B'Elanna, that does not make your body less viable." She moved closer and kissed Janeway on the corner of her jaw. "In truth, I find it more attractive and appealing than ever," she added in a provocative tone, making it very clear how much she had missed it and why.
"Sweet talker," Janeway grumbled, but she smiled faintly.
"Not at all," Seven remarked, her fingers working their magic on the tight muscles along the captain's shoulders and neck. "This is your body, Kathryn, every millimeter of it, and because of that, I adore it utterly. I love you no matter what form you may take, but I feel somewhat possessive of this body." She hesitated. "Do you suppose that B'Elanna utilized it inappropriately?"
Janeway wondered how to handle that, juggling it gingerly.
"In what way?"
Seven was silent for a moment. When she finally spoke, her tone was troubled. "Do you think that B'Elanna copulated with Lt. Ro while in your body, as we did with hers?"
Janeway felt a muscle jump in her jaw, hearing the distinct note of jealousy in her partner's voice. "I know for a fact that Ro was having a great deal of trouble with B'Elanna being in my body," she said with complete honesty, knowing anything less would be detected by her partner. "In fact, the last time I had the opportunity to speak with her personally, she indicated that she was quite wary of even touching it because whenever she looked at it, she saw her captain and not her lover. I think that their relationship is still too new to get by the concept." She paused, smiling faintly at her partner. "I don't believe either of them know each other as well as you do me, Annika. You could look past the outside shell to who I truly am, the person who adores you utterly. B'Elanna and Ro are not quite where we are. Indeed, most couples never manage to get to where we are ... they simply haven't been through everything we have."
Seven considered that. "Oh." Her voice was definitely relieved, but she seemed content to accept the captain's take on the situation and leave it at that.
Janeway released the breath she had been holding. She didn't know for sure if B'Elanna and Ro had managed to overcome their perceptions as she and Seven had, but she certainly didn't want to pursue it. There were some forms of information that Seven simply shouldn't receive because she would do the most inconvenient things with them. The memory of the Borg punching Commander Chakotay over the desk in the ready room still lingered, and the captain knew that the last thing she needed was for Seven to take it into her head that Ro Laren had somehow overstepped her boundaries regarding Janeway's form.
Seven prodded the captain firmly at the base of her spine and Janeway jerked.
"Ow," she complained.
Seven nodded thoughtfully. "Definitely Klingon physiology."
"I think I'm going to miss that body," Janeway muttered, disappointed as she realized that all Seven's intended caress had done was send an unpleasant twinge up her back.
"I will not. Aggression is fine on occasion, but I like it best when you are tender with me, Kathryn."
"I'll remember that," Janeway said, squirming under the massage.
"There is one other very important thing to acknowledge about this form."
"What's that?"
"Your fingers are significantly longer than B'Elanna's."
Janeway thought about that, particularly with regards to the other revelations she had received this evening.
"Hmm," she said somewhat smugly, holding up her right hand to look at the digits in question as she wiggled them vigorously. "Significantly longer?"
"Yes," Seven said firmly, nuzzling the captain's neck. "More slender as well. They are quite pleasurable when utilized properly."
Janeway laughed. "I'm glad," she said, her tone dropping huskily. She turned and wrapped her arms around her spouse, the couple sinking back onto the sofa cushions. She kissed her lightly, a tender brush over her lips, a lingering promise of more to come. "I know I certainly appreciate the fact that I have such an asset," she murmured, looking deep into the pale eyes so close to her own. Seven kissed her back, a deep, loving caress of lips and tongue that was a balm on Janeway's soul.
"It is definitely an advantage," the Borg murmured when they finally parted.
"Can I tell you something, darling?"
"Of course."
"Last night, I think I was a little afraid that you did find B'Elanna's body more exciting than mine," Janeway admitted bashfully. "Particularly after your ... very enthusiastic response. But now that you've explained about your regenerating nerves, I feel much better knowing that was the cause and not the Klingon form."
"It was always you causing my responses, Kathryn," Seven told her seriously. "You are the only one I love ... the only one I shall ever love."
"I love you, too, Seven of Mine," Janeway told her in all sincerity. "And you're right, I'm very glad to be back in my own body ... especially when you take such wonderful care of it." She was startled when, as if on cue, her stomach abruptly rumbled. Seven raised an eyebrow, her pale eyes alight with humor.
"It appears that your body requires care right now."
"Hmm, I don't know when B'Elanna fed it last, but if you'll remember, I haven't been particularly regular in my meals lately," Janeway reminded her, poking the young woman in the ribs and making her squirm. "Her body is probably no better off."
"We can solve that now. What shall we have to eat?"
"Each other doesn't count?" Janeway remarked playfully.
"That is for dessert," Seven promised with a smile. "What do you want for the main course?"
Janeway closed her eyes and snuggled blissfully down against her spouse. "I think some of your wonderful cheese, mushroom, and pasta casserole would hit the spot. I know we had some for dinner the night before last, but with Klingon tastebuds, it just didn't taste right."
"I did wonder why we had so much left over. I have discovered that some dishes do taste better when reheated and fortunately, that is one of them."
"I suppose this means I have to let you up," Janeway muttered, her eyes still closed, not moving a millimeter.
"If you wish to eat," Seven pointed out. "Otherwise, we can remain exactly where we are."
Janeway bent her knee, moving it over the young woman's lap so that she was half straddling her as she put more of her weight on her partner. "I think I like that idea, too."
Her stomach took that opportunity to protest loudly once more, and the captain heard Seven actually chuckle in her ear. "Some bodies are quite demanding when they return to their proper owner, rather like Jake. Though I might point out that B'Elanna does not feed him properly when she looks after him, either."
Janeway laughed. "I'll just have to remember that the next time something like this happens. From now on, B'Elanna Torres definitely does not get to look after my body."
Seven made a small sound of amusement as she hugged her spouse closer.
"Agreed," she said. "After all, that is my job."
Seven inhaled the warm fragrance of her partner as the familiar form lay draped across her on the sofa. The captain's weight was comforting, a much beloved sensation that at the moment, the young woman simply couldn't get enough of. She did realize that she would have to get up eventually to prepare dinner, but in the meantime, she was more than content to snuggle with her Kathryn, getting used to her form and substance, basking in the sense that everything was 'right' once more.
"Annika," Janeway murmured.
"Yes, Kathryn?"
"If we don't get up right this minute, I'm going to fall asleep right on top of you."
Seven considered that. "Is that undesirable?"
"Not at all," Janeway responded. "Though we still need to eat." She raised her head so that she could look into Seven's face. "I do think that you and I should take the next couple of days off, just as if this had been an away mission. I'll authorize it for B'Elanna and Ro as well."
Pleased, Seven was nonetheless mindful of the request which had been made before this whole thing started.
"Did you ever discover why Chakotay requested leave?"
Janeway smiled. "Don't worry that our taking some time off will interfere with his plans. The next suitable world we come to, I'm issuing a full, three shift shore leave. I think the entire crew needs it after all we've been through lately. I promised the Commander that he could have my rotation as well, which will give him the full three weeks. That should be more than enough time off for him."
"But did you discover why he requires it?"
Janeway looked vaguely bemused. "Actually no. He didn't really volunteer any explanation beyond just needing the time off, though certainly, I offered him every opportunity to confide in me. I guess it will just have to remain a mystery for the time being."
Seven felt the corner of her mouth curve up. "That must be difficult for you. Indeed, were it not for your incessant curiosity, you would never have discovered the function of the device that switched you and B'Elanna."
Janeway looked rueful. "Why do I get the feeling you're not going to let me forget that for a long time?"
"Because I am not," Seven told her, pulling her close and nuzzling her ear. Then she trailed her lips over the jawline until she found her partner's mouth, kissing her deeply. "Dinner," she stated firmly when they finally parted.
"Dinner," Janeway agreed reluctantly and got off the Borg.
Seven inhaled deeply and uncoiled from the couch, moving over to the kitchenette where she removed a container full of casserole from the refrigeration unit, covered the top with a fresh layer of Romano cheese and popped it into the heating unit. Janeway, in the meantime, had taken the opportunity to set the table,
As she did, Seven studied her surreptitiously, noting how she moved and winced occasionally.
"Are you sore, Kathryn?"
Janeway flashed her a rueful grin. "I suspect B'Elanna tends to be far more energetic in engineering than I am on the bridge." She shook her head. "Maybe I'm just out of shape."
"Or perhaps you were not fully recovered from our deprivation on Icinus before this happened. I will ask the Doctor to make an appointment for you to receive a full physical as I did today." She raised her eyebrow significantly as Janeway offered her an outraged look. "Kathryn," she said, leaning heavily on the name, "you will look after yourself, or I must do it for you. In the meantime," she added, as a peace offering, "I shall draw you a bubble bath after dinner, and possibly that will ease any lingering soreness."
Janeway wanted to say something, Seven could tell it in every line of the captain's body, but she closed her mouth with a snap and finished setting the table. Then, she sat down at her place next to the windows and regarded her partner darkly as Seven carried over the steaming casserole.
"Do you think I'm so easily coerced into doing what you want," Janeway asked in a deadly quiet tone, "with just the promise of a bath?"
Seven eyed her judiciously as she scooped a generous portion of the pasta and cheese, depositing it on the captain's plate. "Yes," she decided finally as she took her own spot opposite her spouse.
Startled, Janeway let out a short bark of laughter. "Dammit, you're right, I am. A bath sounds really good, darling, and I agree; it wouldn't hurt for me to get checked out."
Seven wasn't sure what to do with this sudden acquiescence from her spouse. Perhaps Janeway was more uncomfortable than she let on, and the Borg made a mental note to add some aloe and other healing herbs to the bath when she drew it. It was not in the captain's nature to agree to medical attention so easily.
She was relieved to see Janeway fully enjoy her meal, actually consuming a second helping of the casserole. Obviously, it had been hard for her to adapt to the Klingon taste preferences. Remembering Naomi's last birthday party when B'Elanna flavored her strawberry ice cream with pepper and tabasco sauce, Seven could well imagine that it would be a difficult experience for the captain. After dinner, while the couple were clearing away the dishes, Seven brushed her fingers over the back of Janeway's neck as she passed behind her. The captain reacted with a brief smile but did not cease in her task, almost as if she hadn't entirely noticed the caress, so familiar was it ... which was exactly as it should be, Seven thought with relief. As the evening passed, and they continued these very domestic rituals that they had established over the time they had been together, Seven found she was gradually easing back into a sense of this being her home, her refuge, once more.
Later, she went into the ensuite and filled the large whirlpool bath, making sure the water was at precisely the correct temperature and that the combination of oils and fragrances she added would provide the most restful and soothing experience for her spouse. She looked up to see Janeway in the entrance, leaning against the doorframe, a rather wistful smile on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest.
"Did you think it was that bad for me?"
"Kathryn?"
"You only pamper me like this when I've been through the wars," Janeway elaborated. "Figuratively speaking."
Seven smiled. "This is not entirely for your benefit. Indeed, it has never been entirely for your benefit. I need to be able to provide care for you, Kathryn, especially after a difficult time. It makes me feel as if I am healing a part of me deep inside. This is the most efficient method to make it 'better'."
Janeway took a moment to consider that. "I didn't realize. I'm more than glad to allow it then, darling." She paused. "However, I need to be able to take care of you, every so often, as well."
"You do," Seven pointed out as she dipped her hand in the water, swirling it around, pleased that the sensation felt absolutely silky smooth. "When we were stranded on the ice planet, you took constant care of me." She looked up at her, her eyes alight as her chest suddenly felt full. "In fact, you saved my life by killing a deadly predator with your bare hands."
Janeway blushed and looked at her feet. "Oh, that..."
Seven smiled at her spouse's bashful expression, thinking it far cuter than a starship captain should probably look. "Come here," she requested quietly.
Janeway's head was still bent, but she was glancing from beneath her lashes, a crooked grin on her face as she drifted over to where her partner stood, patiently waiting. Seven enfolded her into her arms, nuzzling the soft auburn hair, kissing along her neck. Janeway remained passive, still smiling gently as the Borg unfastened the captain's tunic and carefully slipped it off her shoulders.
"I love you so much, Kathryn," Seven remarked quietly as she tugged at the slate-blue sweater, slipping it over her partner's head.
"I utterly adore you, love." Janeway paused, her breathing deepening as Seven kissed a trail along her throat. "Tell me, why did you and B'Elanna disappear into the conference room?"
Seven smiled, nibbling on Janeway's ear as she removed the captain's undergarment. "Kathryn, I placed some aloe in the water. It should ease some of your soreness."
Janeway laughed huskily. "Darling," she muttered as Seven hooked her fingers beneath the waistband of her trousers and pushed them down over her hips, "I believe you are trying to avoid answering the question. You didn't punch her, did you, in some odd fit of jealousy?"
"No, I did not punch her," Seven replied honestly. "Kathryn, it was a private conversation between B'Elanna and myself."
"In other words, mind my own business," Janeway noted dryly, resting her hands on Seven's shoulders as the Borg knelt to remove her spouse's boots and the trousers crumpled about her feet. Her hands tightened on Seven's arms as she carefully lifted one foot, then the other for her. "I'm not trying to pry, darling."
"Yes, you are." Seven regarded the nude form of her partner adoringly, delighting in every line, curve and freckle.
"I am," Janeway agreed with a smile. "Very well. If it's relevant to us, I know you'll tell me eventually."
"I would," Seven told her earnestly. "This was not important at all, Kathryn."
Janeway eyed her briefly, then nodded, her expression soft and vulnerable. Tenderly, the Borg picked the smaller woman up in her arms and carefully lowered her into the bath. The captain groaned pleasurably as she sank into the steaming water.
"Oh, love, this is heaven."
Seven kissed her on the temple. "Appropriate, since you are an angel."
Janeway chuckled. "Ah, such a charmer," she said, leaning back against the tub's smooth surface as she lifted an eyebrow. "Join me," she requested, reaching out her hand invitingly.
"For what purpose? You are supposed to relax."
"I can relax while you're in here with me."
Seven stared at her, amazed at such a blatant falsehood, and the captain laughed again, splashing her briefly with the water, leaving the front of the Borg's biometric suit wet and dripping.
"Kathryn!"
"Get in the tub, woman, before I drag you in here," Janeway ordered with a passable growl, undoubtedly her best imitation of her former Klingon form.
Seven laughed at her, but she did remove her outfit and slipped into the water with her spouse. Some more splashing ensued, and while it wasn't exactly what Seven had in mind for soothing her partner, she couldn't deny that the captain was very relaxed and at ease with herself by the time they were through. They didn't make love in the tub, but the lavish caresses and kisses they shared inflamed and aroused them both, so that by the time they got out and dried each other off with large fluffy towels, there was nothing left to do but stumble quickly into the bedroom where they fell onto the mattress amid breathless laughter.
Paying the most exquisite attention to detail, Seven then proceeded to thoroughly familiarize herself with her beloved spouse's body, going over every millimeter with the utmost care and concentration. If Janeway was unable to reach the sheer decibel levels of the previous evening, it was only because her vocal cords were simply not capable of hitting the more reverberating notes. As it were, she still managed to generate a loud protest from Jake out in the living area and provide a distinct ringing sensation in Seven's ears.
Afterward, they sprawled over the bed in a sated state of bliss, the captain using Seven for a pillow as she smiled happily.
"Annika, darling," she whispered, "I'm so glad things are back to normal."
Seven made a small sound of amusement. "Normal for us is actually abnormal for most people."
"So true," Janeway responded with a chuckle. She rubbed the Borg's belly lightly. "It's occurred to me that we may never have what is considered a 'normal' life."
Seven considered that. "Perhaps that is best, because you are a far from 'normal' woman. Indeed, Kathryn, you are a most extraordinary person, and I am extraordinarily fortunate to have found you."
Janeway raised her head, looking down at her partner with intense scrutiny. "No, I'm the fortunate one."
Seven kissed her gently.
"We are both most fortunate, Kathryn," she said softly. "If that means we shall never have what is perceived as a 'normal' existence, then I am content with that."
"For as long as I live."
Epilogue
Ro Laren lay in a sweaty tangle with her partner, her breath coming hard in the aftermath of yet another loving encounter. She knew that both women had felt their recent deprivation keenly, but she was beginning to wonder if she could continue to keep up this pace. They had been in bed for two days now, stopping only to replicate the occasional meal that was inevitably included in the next round, and there was a part of her that didn't know if her stamina was up to it. Nor how they would ever get the chocolate mousse off the ceiling.
"I admit," B'Elanna muttered happily as she sprawled languidly across Ro, her head resting on the Bajoran's upper chest, "you certainly do know how to make up for those missed evenings while I was in the captain's body."
Ro smiled, stroking the wavy hair gently. "I promised you, didn't I?"
"You did," B'Elanna agreed.
They were silent for a few moments, basking in the warm afterglow.
"Laren?"
"Yes, Lanna?"
"Do you suppose Janeway and Seven ... you know ... did it? In my body, I mean?" The Klingon's tone was just the slightest bit anxious, and Ro decided that it was just as well she had come to the decision that she had. Obviously, B'Elanna was not as blasé about it as she thought she had been ... not now that she was back in her own form and had the opportunity to really think about certain consequences. Ro was simply glad that she never had to know exactly what Janeway looked like in the heat of passion. It would have been impossible to look the captain in the eye ever again.
"I have no idea," she responded honestly to the question after considering it carefully. She paused, then inhaled slowly. "In any event, love, it's probably just as well that we don't know."
B'Elanna thought about it. "You're right, some things, a body just shouldn't know." She smiled at her partner. "However, I'm certainly glad my life includes yours."
"So am I. You've become vital to me, Lanna. I think this showed me just how much."
B'Elanna didn't respond verbally.
And the smile didn't leave the couple's faces for three days.
The End