Seven left the Enterprise captain beneath the tree, searching for her spouse. It did not take her long to realize that Janeway was nowhere to be found, and a quick check with Utopia Planitia Control—which kept close track of the base commander, particularly in the last few months—informed Seven that Janeway was in orbit, having beamed to the Millennium's docking array a few hours earlier. Seven sighed in exasperation, knowing that it was difficult to keep Janeway away from her new vessel, but expecting that she would show more restraint on this day, if not at any other time. As the launch date rapidly approached, however, she appreciated that Janeway was growing more anxious about how her new vessel would perform, and her abilities in taking command of it, even if she chose not to show that uncertainty and vulnerability to anyone but her spouse.

Seven made her farewells to Ro and B'Elanna, wishing them her best. The afternoon had turned to evening, and both women were starting to look a bit worn. Seven remembered how exhausting her own special day had been, and that she had been so tired by the end of the reception, her wedding night had consisted of her lying down in bed and promptly going to sleep. Janeway had been amused by her spouse's inability to perform the physical aspect of the matrimonial tradition, but Seven still felt a bit of embarrassment whenever she thought about it. She hoped Ro and B'Elanna had paced themselves better, and would be able to enjoy the full experience of their marital joining.

Finding an out of the way spot, Seven requested a transport to the docking array that lay in geo-synchronous orbit above the Mars base. The dock was quiet, only a few engineers still on duty to finish last minute details on the ship's exterior, and she quickly made her way to the tether that physically connected the vessel to the dock. She could have beamed directly to the ship itself, of course, but transporter use was generally frowned upon as long as the vessel was still considered under construction, due to the occasional power fluctuations during systems installation. In any event, Seven did not mind the walk through the long corridor, the roof of the temporary link lined with transparent aluminum so that she could see the massive vessel every time she looked up.

Inside the ship, she was greeted by that fresh, metallic scent that all new starships possessed—or so she had heard. Certainly, this had been how Voyager had smelled when she had been on board briefly at its construction during a temporal excursion. Most of the final, interior details of the Millennium had been completed, from the thick slate-blue carpet on the deck that muted her booted footsteps, to the shiny panels that adorned the bulkheads, indicating where she was in the vessel at any given moment. She paused near one and touched the surface, accessing the ship's internal comm system.

“Computer,” she tried.

“Working,” came the flat response. The mainframe had yet to have the final personality AI connected, and it was far more 'mechanical' than the other computers Seven had become accustomed to during her time with Starfleet.

“Locate Captain Janeway.”

There was a pause as the computer searched the ship utilizing the internal sensors, the communicators still primarily linked with UP Control rather than the Millennium, and not yet interfaced with the main search parameters. Nor did the vessel have a specific crew roster in its databanks, so the only way it could find Janeway was by locating the badge identification chip which corresponded to the name in the Starfleet personnel files it cross-checked in its database. It only took a few seconds, but in computer terms, it was a long time before it managed to track her down.

“Captain Kathryn Janeway is on the bridge.”

Seven exhaled. She should have guessed, she thought to herself.

Taking the direct route to the closest turbolift, she instructed it to take her to deck one where she stepped onto the expansive bridge, spotting her partner sitting in the captain's chair, her auburn head bent intently as she worked at the console that spread around each arm of the command post. Janeway obviously hadn't heard the almost silent hiss of the turbolift door—an equipment flaw that might prove dangerous in the future, Seven noted disapprovingly—and it provided Seven a moment to observe her partner unnoticed.

Janeway had changed from her dress whites at some point, and back into a regular uniform. Her sweater collar was loosened at the neck, while her tunic had been tossed over the chair at the science station, indicating she had been working there earlier. Her sleeves were rolled up, revealing wiry forearms that flexed as she tapped commands into the console, while the elegant line of her face was in perfect profile, eyelashes casting a dark shadow over her cheekbone. Seven smiled fondly, then crossed her arms over her chest, assuming a stern demeanor as Janeway abruptly realized she wasn't alone. There was a pause as Janeway lifted her head, then she glanced back at Seven. A rueful expression ghosted across her face as she turned the command chair which swiveled smoothly on its base in response to a touch of her finger on the control.

“I've been here longer than I anticipated,” she offered weakly, as a sort of explanation. “I did mean to get back before the reception ended—or before you missed me.”

“What are you doing here at all?” Seven requested pointedly.

Janeway considered that, obviously searching for an explanation that would satisfy her partner. “Uh, I wanted to work on the sensor relays?”

Seven stared at her, and Janeway threw up her hands in surrender. “Fine,” Janeway finally admitted. “I was feeling a little out of control, and decided to come up here to cool off.”

“You had a confrontation with Captain Picard,” Seven guessed.

Janeway shot her a sharp look. “How did you know that?” she asked.

Seven shook her head. “Logic,” she said. She lowered her arms, linking her hands behind her back. For her, it was a definite relaxation in body language, though for others, it would still appear unnaturally stiff. “I spoke with him about you, and since you had disappeared, it was reasonable to assume that you and he had interacted earlier.”

“He wants to grab Ro for the Enterprise,” Janeway said, leaning back in her chair.

Seven raised her brow delicately. “You object?”

“Of course, I do,” Janeway said, frowning at her partner. “You know I intend to offer her the tactical post.”

“Is Ro aware of this?” Seven prodded. “Because if she is not, then she may choose to accept another offer. Furthermore, one could expect her new spouse to follow her, which may explain why B'Elanna has not yet confirmed her posting to the Millennium. I am unsure why you are persisting in this approach, Kathryn, but it occurs to me that it may not only cost you Ro's services at tactical, but B'Elanna's in engineering as well.”

Janeway stared at her, breathing steadily, and Seven knew she was considering what she had said, even if she didn't like it much. Finally, Janeway bent her head and swiveled her chair back to its original position so that it faced forward.

“You think I'm being an ass,” Janeway said finally, her eyes dark as she stared at the blank viewscreen.

Seven tilted her head. “Not at all,” she said honestly. “However, for you to offer that comment suggests that you may hold that view. Do you, Kathryn?”

It seemed a flicker of hurt crossed the classic features, not necessarily from Seven's words, but from what Janeway was thinking, and Seven quickly moved closer, stepping down from the upper part of the bridge to the lowest part of the deck which was already being referred to as 'the pit' by various members of the crew. It contained the first officer, science, navigational and auxiliary stations, and was one step below the main bridge. Janeway remained at eye level, since her chair was on the upper part of the bridge, granting a distinctive aura of authority to the location. Tentatively, Seven reached out and put her hand on Janeway's where it rested on the console arm of the chair.

“Kathryn, what is it that truly troubles you?” Seven asked compassionately.

“Ro was never my command candidate,” Janeway said, her face lowered, shadowed in the lowered lights of the bridge. “She was always working for Picard. I—it's left me feeling ...”

“Foolish?” Seven prompted.

“Uncertain of my judgment when it comes to trusting the officers under my command,” Janeway corrected dryly.

“I see,” Seven said. She paused. “Perhaps it is merely your perception that you must feel uncertain about. It is possible that Ro was quite content to be your command candidate, and was merely serving Picard in addition to her duties to you.”

“She could have confided in me,” Janeway said flatly. “She would have, if her first loyalty was to my command.”

Seven inhaled slowly. “You once told me that you hold many responsibilities, not just to me, but within Starfleet itself,” she said quietly, studying her partner thoughtfully. “Sometimes, those responsibilities conflict, and the only thing you can do is choose the greater of the two demands upon you. Just as I am expected to accept and understand when you are required to choose such a demand over your loyalty to me, is it not possible that you will, by necessity, find yourself in that position with another Starfleet officer? With Lt. Ro?”

Janeway stared at her darkly, but Seven could tell from the lighter cast of the eyes, shading from dark grey to a paler shade, that her words were penetrating Janeway's anger and disappointment.

“Is this a matter of rank?” Seven prodded. “In that case, Ro was required to obey the senior officer, which was Picard, captain of Starfleet's flagship. Or are you truly angry because so much of this was out of your control?”

Janeway dropped her eyes and mumbled something.

“Excuse me?” Seven said politely.

“I said,” Janeway repeated in a clearer tone. “The latter.”

Seven nodded, satisfied that this, indeed, was the true problem. “You are being unfair to Laren,” she told Janeway, as gently as possible. She always had to proceed with care when discussing such things, knowing that there was fine line that she could not cross when it came to Kathryn's command. She had sworn never to use her personal ties to Janeway to attempt to sway her professionally, but that didn't mean she couldn't point things out to her when required.

“I know,” Janeway said finally, exhaling audibly. “I'll offer Ro the posting as soon as possible.” She seemed to relax once she had made her decision, as if an unseen burden had lifted from her shoulders.

“That is most wise,” Seven told her approvingly, squeezing her fingers lightly. “However, you should probably wait until she and B'Elanna have completed their honeymoon. They shall return next Monday.”

Janeway sighed. “I suppose you're right,” she said. As she regarded Seven, her face altered slightly, to an expression that seemed somewhat remorseful. “I'm sorry I left the reception early. I should have told you that I was going, and where.”

Seven did not shrug exactly, but the incline of shoulders altered slightly, which was indicative of the same thing. “It is better for you to be in a place where you can calm yourself and think things through,” she allowed. “Rather than try to remain surrounded by people you may find yourself in conflict with, causing you to make decisions that may prove imprudent in the future.”

“You're probably right,” Janeway agreed. “However, after all we've been through, I should be more considerate about any 'sudden disappearances'.”

Seven lifted her chin. “I was not concerned,” she said. “Particularly once I knew where you had gone.”

Janeway tilted her head, her eyes soft as she regarded her partner. “Did Mom have a chance to speak with you?”

Seven smiled. “Yes,” she said, her mood lightening. “I was surprised but pleased. I believe Gretchen and Michael's union will be successful.” She paused. “Phoebe appeared unduly shocked, however.”

Janeway made a small sound of amusement. “I suppose that I should feel glad that I wasn't the only one caught unawares by this,” she said. “One thing this time on Earth has given me is the chance to discover what a truly interesting and amazing person my mother is. Who knew that she could be so unpredictable?”

“Those are all traits that you possess in great measure,” Seven pointed out gently. “You had to inherit them from one of your parents.”

Janeway dipped her head bashfully, acknowledging the truth of Seven's comment, then lifted Seven's hand to her lips, kissing the inside of the wrist tenderly, as if suddenly reminded that this was, after all, a day of romance, though few in the Federation recognized the significance of the 14th day of February anymore. “Have I told you how glad I am you immediately accepted your assignment to the Millennium?” she murmured, eyeing Seven from beneath her lashes. “How much I love working with you on the same ship?”

Seven felt the corner of her mouth lift. “I enjoy it, as well,” she admitted. “I feel more comfortable being only a few decks away from you at any given moment. Perhaps working so closely together would not be acceptable or beneficial to some couples, but for us, it is a functional and nurturing arrangement for our relationship.”

“I agree,” Janeway said warmly. She paused, staring at her. “You've mostly spent your time in the science labs,” she added. “Or engineering. Have you had a chance to take a complete circuit of the ship?”

Seven shook her head. “Not yet.”

Janeway stood up and stepped down from her chair, offering her arm. “Then allow me to be the first to give you the captain's personal tour,” she said. She motioned to the port side at a door by the turbolift. “That's the conference room,” she explained, though she made no effort to show Seven the interior, and Seven wondered how sincere she was about giving her the 'tour'. It was entirely possible Janeway was up to something else altogether. Janeway turned and pointed at the door opposing it. “That leads to the staff room.”

“Staff room?” Seven decided that she would not make it easy for her spouse, asking questions at every opportunity.

Janeway eyed her speculatively. “Apparently, it was decided that the bridge needed one, rather than have the crew take the turbolift down a deck, or utilize the ready room when they require a break in their duties,” she explained. “It's supposed to decrease stress during times when the senior officers are required to work beyond the normal shifts. Other areas, such as engineering and sickbay, also have their own personal lounges.”

“It is a concept that B'Elanna once mentioned to me,” Seven remarked.

“My only concern is that they might serve to further isolate the various departments from each other,” Janeway noted. “I'll have to keep my eye on that.”

Seven offered her a fondly proud look. “I am sure you will find a way to limit any disadvantages,” she said, generating a pleased but shy expression from her partner at the compliment. Seven accepted the warm grip on her elbow with a faint smile as Janeway scooped up her tunic and led Seven to the rear of the bridge, where a door was located between the two turbolifts.

It slid open at their approach, and inside, Seven discovered Janeway's ready room. It was similar to Voyager's in that it was comprised of two levels, but like the rest of the Millennium, it incorporated a more circular, flowing line of decor. The first thing Seven saw immediately before her was a large circular sofa and a coffee table in what was obviously a conversation pit of some kind. Following Janeway up the ramp which swept up the right side of the conversation pit, bordered by a rail, Seven checked out the upper level containing Janeway's desk. It was dwarfed by the large transparencies that looked out over the aft part of the saucer and engineering section, and down onto the beta hangar launch pad. A small head was tucked to the starboard side, aft of the turbolift, while a changing room, containing dress uniforms and a sonic shower, was located to port. Shelves lining the curved bulkhead and a built-in cabinet displayed many of the professional souvenirs and space-going antiques Janeway had accumulated during her career. A large replicator, located near Janeway's desk, already had a small, permanent coffee stain on the lip of the tray. It made Seven smile.

“It is spacious,” Seven noted. “More so that your previous office.”

“That might be deliberate,” Janeway allowed, her arms crossed over her chest as she looked around with a decidedly possessive air. “I guess they believe I'll be spending a lot of time in here.”

“You also have direct access to the turbolifts,” Seven said approvingly.

“Yes, bypassing the bridge,” Janeway agreed. “Even better, there's an alternative shaft that runs directly to the captain's quarters on deck three, accessed by a special command code. That's not in the official specs, by the way. It's just a little surprise they added.”

Seven considered that. “For decreasing the time it takes for the captain to reach the bridge?” she said.

Janeway smiled. “Among other things,” she offered. She suddenly reached over and patted Seven lightly on her left buttock, startling Seven. “It occurred to me that you would never have to utilize a site-to-site transport should you wish to 'surprise' me in the ready room sometime in the future.”

Seven eyed her. “I am sure that was not the intention of the engineers when it was designed,” she said dryly.

“Perhaps not,” Janeway offered impishly. “However, one should consider all the options.” She moved down the other ramp to the turbolift, the doors slipping open quietly for her. “In the meantime, let me show you our quarters. They finished moving in the basic furnishings yesterday.”

Seven regarded her partner from the corner of her eye, wondering what Janeway was up to, but certainly having no objection to participating in Janeway's sudden playful mood. Besides, she had yet to see the quarters she was expected to share with Janeway for the next few years, and now was as good a time as any to investigate them.

The turbolift did not open directly into their cabin, and Seven realized that Janeway had programmed the lift simply for deck three, belatedly remembering that Janeway would not yet have received the main codes that controlled the ship systems. Those would be given to her just prior to launch by the admiral during a high security transfer of command. The two women walked down the corridor, and Seven took note of the two other doors leading off from this section.

“First officer?”

“Yes, and VIP guest quarters on this deck,” Janeway agreed. “Just as it was on Voyager.”

Not quite, Seven mused. For one thing, Commander Chakotay would not be in those quarters, would not be performing the role as Janeway's second-in-command on this voyage. In fact, it had yet to be determined who the first officer would be. Janeway had put in a formal request for Lt. Commander Data of the USS Enterprise, but it was entirely possible that Starfleet Command had its own idea about who would be suitable to serve with Janeway. The only thing Seven knew for sure was that whomever was chosen, the individual could not be Terran. That was because of the transition stage of the new propulsion system the vessel used. Between warp and transwarp, there was a brief transition period where the vessel entered the slipstream corridor, and for some reason, as yet undetermined, it adversely affected humans. Other species, Bajorans, Vulcans, Klingons, Bolians, and even Betazeds who were humanoid to within 82% of the natives of Earth, remained immune, but for those with a base Human genetic composition, they experienced dizziness, nausea and severe headaches. For Janeway to command the vessel, it had to be balanced by an exec who could take over for her during the transition.

Seven wondered how her spouse would handle her first 'jump'. Somehow, she doubted Janeway would do the prudent thing, allowing herself to be medicated, and granting her alien first officer command for that brief transition stage. She hoped that after Janeway had experienced it once, she would learn to accede to the inevitable, as the rest of the humans in the crew would have to.

Janeway paused at the door at the end of the corridor, pressing the controls. They were welcomed into the quarters with a soft hiss, and Janeway immediately brought up the lights. She tossed her tunic onto the back of an easy chair, then stood back to allow Seven to look around.

It was much larger than their living space on Voyager had been, Seven noted. To her immediate left, she took note of the curved doors indicating where the turbolift could open directly into the room. Beyond that, the dual work stations were against the wall, facing each other just as they had in their previous ship's quarters, while the living area was decorated with comfortable looking sofas, and a large coffee table, which took up the central space. They faced the curved windows which looked forward onto the top of the ship's saucer section. To Seven's right, there was a dining area, as well as a fully functional kitchenette, which was not standard issue at all. She flashed a look at Janeway and received a smile.

“For me?” Seven said, greatly pleased. Cooking from scratch was one of Seven's favorite hobbies, and looking back, one of the clues that she and Janeway had stopped operating on an acceptable level while on Earth should have been that she stopped finding time to prepare meals for the couple.

“For you,” Janeway confirmed with a wry smile. “After all, it's not as if I've learned my way around the kitchen in the past year and a half.”

Smiling faintly in return, Seven moved over to the doorway next to the dining table, expecting to find the bedroom. However, when the door slid back to reveal the interior, she faltered, struck almost speechless.

“Oh, Kathryn,” she said wonderingly. “How did you arrange this?”

 

Janeway regarded her partner with satisfaction as Seven walked into the arboretum, Seven's expression one of pure astonishment and joy. Janeway, knowing her partner's love for the outdoors, had instructed the designers in charge of the final interior ship decor to see what it would take to install a small botanical garden next to Janeway's quarters. It wasn't as extravagant as the green areas installed on the lower decks, but it would provide a space for Seven to meditate, or just breathe air filled with the scent of flowers and growing things. Certainly, as a gift for her spouse on this minor holiday, it was far superior to the traditional present of a dozen roses and a box of chocolates.

Seven turned to her, spreading her arms wide. “This is amazing, Kathryn,” she said, her face as bright as the birth of a new nebula.

“I'm glad you like it,” Janeway said softly, leaning against the door frame. She glanced around the area, noting the transparencies overhead interspersed with the high intensity lights that provided the necessary solar radiation the plants required to thrive. Beneath a gracious apple tree, a small fountain babbled joyously over artfully placed rock formations which also concealed a hot tub resting on the other side—something Janeway decided she would reveal at another time for her partner. “I thought, at the very least, we could still have a backyard. I suspect that's the one thing you'll miss most about our house in San Francisco. Of course, in the future, it could be altered back to living quarters, in the event we were to require a nursery or something.”

The brilliant smile radiating from Seven was all the reward Janeway could have wanted or needed for her 'surprise'. The kiss Seven provided a few seconds later, sweeping over to embrace her warmly, was pure bonus.

Janeway nuzzled Seven's ear. “Let me show you the rest of the quarters,” she suggested, feeling a certain tingle echo through her. Seven didn't hesitate, readily accepting her hand, and following her from the arboretum back into the main living area. On the other side was the entrance to the bedroom, the interior dominated by the presence of an incredibly large bed—far larger than was standard issue for starship quarters.

“Kathryn, who chose the furnishings?” Seven asked, regarding the expansive mattress with a touch of amusement that lent color to her pale eyes.

Janeway grinned, completely unrepentant. “I had a direct hand in the final decor,” she admitted. “After all, it's very rare that a captain has the opportunity to contribute to the actual interior design of the ship she'll command. It would have been wasteful had I not taken advantage of it. Besides, since these are the quarters we'll be expected to live in for a five-year tour of duty, and possibly beyond that, they should be exactly to our specifications.”

“'Our' specifications?” Seven repeated, eyeing her skeptically.

Janeway hesitated, feeling her cheeks warm. “Uh, I did try very hard to take your tastes into consideration,” she said weakly. She gestured at the curving, wall-length cabinet enclosed with transparent doors. “I had that made for any souvenirs you might pick up on our journey.”

Seven held her gaze, then smiled faintly, reaching out to take Janeway into her arms. “It is wonderful, Kathryn,” she said, hugging her affectionately. “Very efficient, yet designed for comfort as well.” She glanced to the door leading to yet another room. “I am sure you had the ensuite constructed with equal attention.”

Janeway entwined her fingers in Seven's. “You know me, darling,” she said, drawing her into the bathroom which included a lavish tub and a large hydro shower stall, along with a separate sonic unit. “This was the room I had the designer do first.”

Seven looked around the area. “Acceptable,” she said. “Closet space?”

Janeway touched an area of the wall, the mirrored panel drawing back to reveal a walk-in closet.

“Sufficient even for you, love,” she teased.

Since being in the Alpha Quadrant, Seven had greatly expanded her wardrobe, to the extent that a good portion of it would undoubtedly have to be left behind. Of course, on a starship where uniforms were generally predominant for the Starfleet officers, one really didn't require an extensive wardrobe.

Seven blushed faintly, aware of her partner's gentle needling, but clearly pleased by the amount of space provided. “Kathryn, you are not in the habit of authorizing such luxuries for yourself,” she said, her tone curious. “Why now?”

“Well, there were always your needs to consider, not just mine,” Janeway said over her shoulder as she returned to the bedroom. “Besides, Annika, this isn't going to be like Voyager where we had to make do with what an Intrepid-class vessel could provide. Starfleet knows exactly how long this initial tour of duty is expected to take, and with that in mind, it's important that the ship's interior be set up so the crew will be comfortable, both physically and psychologically. This type of deep space duty, devoid of regular communication with Starfleet, offers its own form of stresses, as we well know from our time in the Delta Quadrant. Whatever could be done to alleviate that was incorporated into the ship, which includes the living quarters.”

“Intriguing,” Seven said, pausing in the ensuite entrance to watch her partner. “Now I understand better why some of the areas are constructed the way they are. Not necessarily for efficiency, but to provide the most acceptable surroundings for long voyages.”

“Exactly,” Janeway said, sitting down on the bottom of the bed and crossing her legs, leaning on one arm as she rested the other across her thighs. She exhaled slowly, regarding her partner with languid interest. “So, do you think you could enjoy living here?”

“It appears to be an efficient layout,” Seven told her evenly.

Janeway tilted her head invitingly. “Efficient?” she queried softly, deliberately dropping her voice a few octaves.

Seven hesitated, eyeing her evenly, as if to gauge Janeway's mood, and then gracefully, she drifted to the bed, leaning over Janeway as she placed her hands lightly on her shoulders, the warmth penetrating the layer of sweater. Seven's face was only millimeters away, so close that Janeway could feel Seven's breath flow sweetly over her, but deliberately, Seven did not close the slight distance between them.

“What is it that you wish to hear?” she asked in a provocative tone, making Janeway smile.

“You never did say if you approved of the bed,” Janeway reminded Seven huskily.

“It is of significant size,” Seven noted, the corner of her mouth curling upward in obvious recognition of the game. Her lips almost, but not quite, brushed over Janeway's “Certainly comparable to the one we have in our San Francisco home.”

“But, do you like it?”

“I cannot not offer an opinion since it has yet to be utilized,” Seven said. She paused, arching an eyebrow curiously. “Is it important?”

“Very important,” Janeway told her sincerely. “I would hate for anything to be unacceptable, particularly the bed. Perhaps we should 'christen' it now, just to be sure.”

“'Christen'?”

“Try it out officially,” Janeway elaborated. “Make sure it meets with all our criteria.”

Seven's eyebrows rose slowly. “Is not the night of Millennium's launch the proper time for such 'official' assessment?” she asked blandly.

“Hmm, that will probably be a very busy day,” Janeway offered reasonably. “It's possible that we'll be so tired that evening, we won't be able to grant the tradition the attention it deserves.”

“Ah, rather like our wedding night,” Seven said thoughtfully.

“Something like that,” Janeway agreed. “In any event, by then it will be too late to make any alterations we might require.”

“Therefore, it is logical to 'christen' the bed while we have the opportunity,” Seven concluded.

“Exactly,” Janeway whispered.

Seven's eyes grew lidded. “You may proceed, Kathryn,” she said.

Janeway's smile widened, and she closed the remaining distance to press her lips to Seven's, the contact very gentle, yet implicit in its promise, both women taking their time to savor the tender kiss. With her right hand, Janeway reached up and found the fastening of Seven's uniform, pulling it down slowly as she kissed her again. “Let me undress you,” she requested softly, pushing the tunic off her spouse's shoulders.

Seven lifted a brow, but remained still, allowing Janeway to slowly remove her dress uniform, dropping each garment onto the deck. Janeway gave the task her entire attention, captivated by each new revelation—the soft shadow of Seven's collar bone, the gentle swell of her toned abdomen, the high point of her hip—granting each discovery a tender kiss, a fleeting brush of her fingertips, a flick of her tongue. By the time she had finished, Seven was trembling with arousal and anticipation, standing nude before Janeway as she looked up and down the glorious golden length of her with deep pleasure.

“You are so beautiful,” she murmured, drawing her hands lightly over Seven's stomach, up to her breasts, toying with the rosy nipples, feeling them harden into points beneath her fingertips.

Seven inhaled, shuddering. “Are you going to undress?” she asked.

“Hmm,” Janeway said, leaning forward to kiss Seven's surgically reconstructed belly button which Janeway found adorable. “Eventually, I suppose.”

Seven laughed, a low chuckle of sensuality as Janeway moved lower, nuzzling into the pale triangle, feeling the curly strands tickle her nose and cheeks, aware of Seven's hands raking lavishly through Janeway's hair. Slowly, Janeway trailed upward once more, nibbling over the smooth skin, her hands stroking Seven's legs and hips, around to the swells of her buttocks, cupping them as she pulled Seven closer to her.

“Kathryn, you are making it difficult for me to remain standing,” Seven muttered.

Janeway smiled, lifting her head to kiss along the under curve of Seven's full breasts, not quite able to reach the nipples with her mouth. For that, she would either alter her sitting position, or bring Seven down onto the bed. She chose to delay the decision, pressing the upper part of her face in the warm valley between the generous swells, Seven's arms going about her head to hold her tight for a brief moment of loving repose.

“I love you,” Janeway whispered, wrapping her arms around the lanky torso. “So much.”

“I know, my Kathryn,” Seven responded quietly, stroking Janeway's forehead, her cheeks. “I love you, too.”

Janeway exhaled happily and drew back, gazing up at her. “So, are you going to come down here, or shall I go up there?” she asked playfully.

“A dilemma,” Seven said, considering it carefully. “Let me undress you while we decide.” She grasped Janeway's biceps firmly but gently, pulling Janeway to her feet as she looked into her eyes with amusement.

“It seems that the decision has been made,” Janeway noted dryly.

Rather than answer, Seven bent her head, kissing her with a mouth that was sweetly intoxicating to Janeway, Janeway immediately lost in the satiny taste of Seven's lush lips. She paid only glancing attention to her partner undressing her, focusing on prolonging the kiss rather than on her sweater being peeled from her torso along with her bra, the seams parted neatly by Seven's mesh-covered hand. The trousers were pushed down over her hips, left crumpled on the deck next to her boots, and other discarded garments. Then it was warm body against body, silken skin against skin, a heated embrace that lowered them onto the new bed without ever losing the continuity of kisses that went on without pause.

Lying on her side, Janeway rested her palm on Seven's breast, her tongue dancing with Seven's, the women conveying wordless sonnets to each other through that delicate connection, silent songs to touch the heart and tantalize the soul. Meanwhile, Seven's right hand moved restlessly over Janeway's hips, legs and stomach, fleeting caresses that inflamed and tormented Janeway.

“Oh, love,” she murmured, finally breaking away from the delectable mouth, almost breathless from the sensation. “You're driving me crazy.”

Seven nipped at her bottom lip. “That implies I am deliberately teasing you,” she responded, her voice equally unsteady in her arousal. “I am merely following your lead.”

Janeway laughed throatily. “You know that we're both holding back to see who surrenders first.”

“A competition infinitely more enjoyable than many others we participate in,” Seven noted, her respiration quick, her pulse fluttering visibly in the leonine line of her neck.

“Infinitely,” Janeway agreed, stroking the slope of her partner's breast, squeezing one nipple, then the other, rolling them between her fingers.

Seven moaned, closing her eyes, her head going back, and Janeway drew her tongue along Seven's throat, mouthing the underside of Seven's chin. However, Seven's hand drifted down to Janeway's thigh, pulling her knee up onto her hip, leaving Janeway open to her. She touched her between her legs, and it was Janeway's turn to whimper, quivering helplessly as Seven's fingers swirled in her wetness, the tips rubbing over the nodule engorged with desire.

“God,” she exhaled, as much prayer as oath. “So good—it feels so good, darling...”

Seven lowered her head, brushing her cheek against Janeway's. “Perhaps—a mutual surrender?” she hissed in her ear.

“Oh, yes,” Janeway replied, accepting the compromise instantly. She adjusted her position, as did Seven, allowing them both full access to the other. “Much better,” she muttered, inhaling deeply, her fingertips dipping into her partner's heat and stroking her avidly.

“Kathryn,” Seven whispered, a direct reaction to her partner's fondling. It was more than just Janeway's name, it was the first hint to Janeway that the sensation was becoming too intense for Seven to resist. “Oh, Kathryn.”

“Yes, darling,” Janeway urged, her fingers moving faster, responding to Seven's touch which intensified correspondingly, feeling the delightful chills shiver through her. “Oh, yes...”

“Kathryn—oh ...”

“Now...” Janeway groaned, trembling. “Darling—now—uhhh ...”

Together they reached their peak, torn between their own irresistible spasms and the need to maintain their caress for the other, the sensation lessened slightly by the split in concentration, yet strengthened at the same time by the knowledge of the pleasure the other was feeling. Finally, naturally, they slowed and stopped, not so much collapsing as melting into each other, quiet on the bed, fingers still touching the other possessively, lovingly.

“Oh, love,” Janeway murmured finally, swallowing to generate some moisture in her dry mouth.

Lazily, she released her grasp of Seven, easing back against the bedding beneath her. Seven leaned over her, pausing to bring her fingers up to her mouth, delicately licking clean Janeway's wetness that still glistened on them, a gesture that provoked a chill of pure animal pleasure within Janeway. Seven eyed her languidly like a big cat, obviously aware of what it did to her partner, and deliberately, she reached down to touch herself. Offering the result to Janeway, Janeway accepted it readily, sucking lightly on the digits slipped between her lips, savoring the mingled taste of herself and her spouse before finally releasing them.

“Delicious,” Janeway told her softly, kissing each of the fingertips.

“As are you,” Seven told her, leaning over to replace her fingers with her lips, the kiss languorous but deep, indicative of more passion as yet unquenched.

“Was it a suggestion?” Janeway whispered against her lips.

“A promise,” Seven explained.

Janeway cupped Seven's face in her hands. “Together?”

Seven smiled faintly. “Is that what you would like, Kathryn?”

“Very much,” Janeway said fervently, and captured Seven's mouth in another kiss, before trailing over her chin, and down her throat.

They took their time to get into position, rebuilding the fire between them with a multitude of kisses and caresses. When Janeway finally put her knees on either side of Seven's head, easing herself down onto Seven's mouth, she was breathing heavily, more than ready for the touch that welcomed her eagerly. The contact seared along her nerve endings, and she glanced between her legs, seeing her partner's chin and jaw move against her juncture, almost as if Seven were feasting on her. Janeway groaned loudly, then shifted her attention hungrily to the intimate flesh beneath her, inhaling its heady scent with sincere enjoyment. Breasts cushioned by the muscled warmth of Seven's stomach, she felt Seven's thighs come up to surround her head as she covered Seven's center with her mouth.

Stiffening her tongue, Janeway manipulated the sensitive node with the tip, sending shivers of delight through her spouse, keenly aware of her own desire being stirred by her lover's mouth, hot and avid as it pleasured her. Her buttocks were gripped tightly by Seven to hold Janeway in place, and Janeway cried out into the wetness bathing her face as Seven teased her opening with her fingers, before boldly penetrating her. Undulating into the tantalizing sensation flexing within her, Janeway continued to flutter her tongue rapidly over Seven's ridge, finding it difficult to concentrate on both. Shifting her weight onto her left elbow, Janeway slipped her right hand under Seven's leg, wetting her index finger in the pool of moisture before circling Seven's smaller orifice, easing it into her rear channel. The tight band gripped it with constrictive force, then gradually yielded to her probe as Janeway eased into her partner as far as she could. The vibration of Seven's moan of pleasure reverberated through Janeway's loins, and Janeway felt herself drift away, lost in the complete immersion of herself in her spouse, her senses aflame with the taste, smell, and touch of Seven surrounding her. From behind her, Janeway heard the unmistakable sound of metal crumpling under an implant, clear indication of the pleasure escalating far beyond Seven's control, and Seven bucked spastically beneath her as she surrendered to her climax. Janeway felt her own desire overwhelm her, shuddering from the jolts radiating from her center, the intensity catching her by surprise before the mutual intensity finally released them both, allowing them to collapse limply in the tangle of bedding.

Janeway gulped for air, finally feeling her heart ease its rapid pace, while Seven's stomach beneath her chest expanded and contracted mightily as Seven fought for her own share of oxygen. Finally, Janeway managed to turn herself around to crawl up into Seven's arms, the couple slipping between the sheets and happily settling in the center of their new bed, perfectly content not to move for the next eon or two.

“Has our new bed been properly 'christened'?” Seven asked eventually, her voice warm with amusement.

“Oh my, yes, darling,” Janeway said, smiling faintly, her eyes closed as she rested her head on Seven's chest. “Particularly, once you mangled the headboard.”

Seven paused, apparently surprised. “The metal rods were not meant for me?” she asked uncertainly.

Janeway chuckled happily. “No, they were part of the decor,” she explained. “Obviously, the designer didn't believe me when I told him that any headboard would require additional reinforcement beyond what ordinary space travel requires. We'll need to have it replaced before we leave.” She paused, snuggling closer. “Of course, that means these quarters will require a second christening between now and the launch, just to be sure any replacement is sufficient.”

“I shall keep my schedule open,” Seven promised immediately. Her embrace tightened slightly. “Are we remaining here tonight?”

Janeway exhaled, licking her lips, still tasting the provocative salt-sweet flavor that lingered on her tongue. “Mmm, I certainly don't want to get up,” she admitted drowsily. “The ensuite is fully online, as are the replicators, so we should have no problem arranging clean uniforms along with some breakfast in the morning.”

“Then we shall stay here,” Seven decided. Janeway felt her lips brush over her forehead tenderly, cuddling her close. “Goodnight, my Kathryn.”

“Sweet dreams, love,” Janeway whispered, surrendering to the sleep that beckoned with irresistible force, delighted to spend the rest of the night on her new vessel, sheltered within the arms of her beloved spouse.

Realizing that there was no better way to end Valentine's Day.

 

Over the next few days, hundreds of unique individuals received official notification from the USS Millennium that would greatly affect their future. For some, it came in the form of orders to report to the vessel by a certain date, and they had little choice in the matter if they truly wished to pursue a career in Starfleet. For others, with more seniority, it meant making a choice between where they currently served, and what accepting a post on the newest Starfleet vessel promised. Then, there was the final group for whom the official notification came like a gift from the gods, an offer to join a vessel that might fulfill all their hopes and dreams as either an Starfleet officer, or as an addition to the civilian population who would round out the crew.

On Trill, Dr. Lenara Kahn finished packing the last of her bags, her brother leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, a dismayed expression on his features.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, not for the first time. Dr. Bejal Otner had worked with his older sister for a long time, and it wasn't surprising that he would find this a most disturbing turn of affairs.

The scientist smiled faintly, sealing up the carryall. “I am,” Lenara said. “You know how restless I've been. It's time I expanded my horizons.”

“I don't see how you're going to be able to pursue your research on artificial worm holes while you're traipsing all over the galaxy,” he said fretfully. “What about your work here?”

“You'll continue it,” she said, picking up the bag and slipping the strap over her shoulder. With her other hand, she picked up another, much larger piece of luggage which he took from her automatically, hefting it as he followed her out into the living area. “Bejal, this is something I have to do.”

He stared at her, his eyes bleak. “This is about Dax, isn't it?”

She blinked. “Why would you even say that?” she responded, an edge in her tone. Even now, the wound remained, still tender to any reference of the Starfleet lieutenant who had served on DS9.

“You made the right decision,” he insisted. “The cost was too high. If you had stayed with Jadzia, you would have lost everything.”

“I know,” she said, frowning, resentful that he had brought it up. “I knew it at the time, which is why I chose to leave. What's your point?”

He hesitated, then dipped his head. “It's just that—I don't think you've had a moment of real happiness since you walked away from her five years ago,” he said softly. He swallowed, his throat moving visibly. “I almost wish...”

He didn't finish the thought—and she didn't dare.

She forced a smile onto her face. “So, this change will be good for me,” she said in a cheerful tone. “A totally new job in a new starship, exploring an area of space that's never been explored before.”

Yet, as she turned away, heading for the front door, her heart ached, remembering how she had felt when the news had arrived that Jadzia Dax had married another. The pain seemed to settle inside her and never left in all the years since. Later, the stark memo informing the Trill homeworld of the death of the host, and the symbiont being passed on to another, a young woman named Ezri in an emergency joining, was almost more than Lenara could bear. It was then that she realized she had cared for Jadzia as much as the symbiont, and it had left a hole in her heart that would probably never heal. Leaving Trill—leaving the Federation entirely—seemed to be the only thing that would ease that knowledge of just what she had refused that day as she stepped through the docking port at DS9, turning her back on the woman standing on the catwalk above her.

If ultimate salvation lay in the amount of light-years she could travel away from the memories, then the Millennium would be exactly what she needed.

In another part of the Federation, Elisa Tarn—fresh out of the Academy, her ensign pip so new, it gleamed in the sunlight of San Francisco—stood in front of the transport center, preparing to transport to Utopia Planitia where she would report for her very first assignment as a Starfleet officer. She still couldn't believe she had won a post that so many in her graduating class had been vying for. The USS Millennium had been considered the choicest vessel for any cadet to shoot for, and she almost hadn't applied. Even though she had been near the top of her class, had even won many academic and athletic awards during her time at the Academy, Tarn had a bit of a history with the vessel's captain and chief science officer. She had believed those encounters would have precluded her from being considered for such an assignment.

Tarn still burned with humiliation whenever she thought of her arrogance and condescension toward the compact, older woman she had met while running in the park, contemptuous at the suggestion that either 'Kathryn' or perhaps her spouse, 'Annika', could give the Academy Champion a bit of a race. Later, she discovered that the woman had been none other than Captain Janeway, and the other woman—who not only defeated her in a sprint, but did so with such casual ease that she had been left eating her dust—had been Lt. Hansen, a Borg scientist of some repute. It had taught Tarn a valuable lesson in the danger of taking things at face value, as well as the harsh reality that no matter how good she might think she was, there was always someone better, stronger, smarter, and faster out there—not to mention, far more devious.

She had thought that applying to the vessel under Janeway's command would be a waste of time, Janeway not about to accept some cadet who had shown herself to be so foolish and inept. However, Tarn's student adviser had encouraged her to apply, and despite her misgivings, she had done so, sure that she would be overlooked in favor of other, more qualified applicants.

No one had been more shocked or astounded when Tarn was instructed to report to the USS Millennium as a bridge operations officer for the Frontier-class ship's maiden voyage. It was a tour that would last at least a year, if not longer, and the vessel would be exploring areas of space that no one else had ever gone before.

“Tarn!”

Startled, the slender young woman turned, seeing one of her old classmates working his way through the throng of commuters toward her. Ensign Davinus Marcos was a solid human from the Greek isles, a young man who was considered one of the better pilots to come out of this year's Red Squad. He seemed a lot nicer than the rest of his team, though still displaying the cockiness that seemed a prerequisite for being a member of the elite group of cadets with outstanding skills in high warp tactical applications.

“Marcos,” she said coolly. “Heading for Mars?”

“Just like you,” he agreed easily, a bag slung over his shoulder. Stocky, with dark hair and eyes, he was handsome in a swarthy sort of way—if one was the sort to find that attractive, which Tarn was fully determined not to. “I hear you were posted to bridge duty. That's really great.”

She thought it was too, but didn't want to appear overly eager. She had learned her lesson about being a braggart and assuming too much about her own abilities. “It'll probably be the gamma shift,” she said dismissively.

“Maybe,” he agreed. “It's still the bridge, however. Fifty percent of the officers on a ship this size never even get a look at deck one—unless they're on their way to Janeway's ready room to be reprimanded.”

That thought made Tarn slightly dizzy. Please, she thought, don't let that be my first accomplishment on the Millennium. She could only imagine what it would be like to find herself under that bluish-grey gaze of disapproval ever again.

As the two graduates gathered their bags and headed into the San Francisco transport center on Earth, another young male, not so long out of the Academy himself, though years ahead of the other two in practical experience, stood on the catwalk overlooking the Promenade of DS9, lost in thought. His orders to report to the newest starship about to be launched from the Utopia Planitia shipyards had come as quite a shock, and even now, he was wondering if there was some way to avoid accepting the posting.

“Nog!”

The Ferengi lieutenant glanced over to see his best friend, Jake Sisko, approaching along the upper walkway of the main Promenade. The young man towered over the shorter alien, and for a few seconds, Nog remembered when they had both been approximately the same size, not long after Jake had arrived on the station—had it really been ten years ago? An entire decade? Where had the time gone?

“I thought you'd be more excited,” Jake said, leaning on the railing next to his friend.

“What about?” Nog replied, though he knew very well what the young man was referring to.

He tried to inject a display of careless confidence in his posture, but it was difficult. This was like the Academy all over again. He had been fortunate after graduation to be able to come back to where he had spent most of his formative years, to serve with old friends and colleagues on DS9. These orders, however, would see him covering the helm on a brand-new vessel, would have him working with strangers and officers he didn't know. That was frightening to the young man who had already struggled against the many misconceptions his species carried with them at the Academy. He had nurtured the vague hope that he would spend his entire career on DS9, perhaps even taking Captain Sisko's—now Colonel Kira's—place one day as commander of the station.

“You know,” Jake noted, observing the Ferengi keenly. “Your new orders. Why do you seem so depressed? I heard this was a ship that a lot of officers would love to serve on.”

“I'm not sure that this is the kind of position I want,” Nog admitted softly.

Jake considered that. “Are you going to turn it down?”

Nog shook his head, not in negation, but in a sign of his uncertainty. “I don't know,” he admitted. “It's not good for one's career to turn down an assignment of this prestige. There's no profit in it.”

“But?” Jake prodded.

Nog stared at the variety of people passing beneath him.

“But, sometimes profit isn't everything,” he said. Softly, so that he wouldn't be heard by anyone, not even his friend who was regarding him worriedly.

Meanwhile, light-years away, in Atlanta, Georgia, on the planet Earth, Dr. Katherine Pulaski regarded the orders on her workstation, and wondered what the hell Janeway was up to now. She couldn't believe that her old friend would request her services as the CMO of her new vessel, but the request for transfer was right there, flashing on the screen. Pulaski hadn't pulled starship duty for years, and a prototype vessel heading into the vast unknown wouldn’t be her first choice in returning to such a position.

Yet, there was always the fact that Janeway had a way of making life interesting, and there was a part of Pulaski that desperately needed for her life to be interesting again.

She leaned back in her chair, staring up at the ceiling. Did she really want to go off to the stars again, never knowing what was going to happen each day as she rose from her bed? She had chosen the administrative position with Starfleet Medical because she had been tired of starship duty, wanting to spend time on Earth. Put down some solid roots for a change. Of course, as the survivor of three marriages, though she remained good friends with all three men, it was quite clear that being able to put down solid roots was not her strongest trait. If she found it difficult to give the proper amount of commitment and attention to a personal relationship, was she really prepared to do it for her career? This tour of duty was supposed to last five years.

Nor could it be considered any kind of career advancement. After operating in the upper echelons of Starfleet Medical, returning to the confines of a starship sickbay was a definite step backward. On the other hand, it was to serve on a vessel that was literally going where no one had gone before, and the possibilities inherent in being the first medical officer to encounter heaven only knew what, held a certain appeal for her.

She admitted to herself that she wasn't getting any younger, and this could be her last opportunity to explore space the way she had wanted to when she first accepted her Starfleet commission so many years ago.

She looked up at the gentle chime at her door.

“Come,” she said.

Her eyebrows nearly shot off her forehead as a man dressed in civilian clothing entered the room. Except, she reminded herself wryly, he wasn't exactly a man.

“You have more balls than the Academy tennis squad,” she said flatly, staring at the sparse figure who had fought—and beat—the organization whose headquarters were housed in this very facility. “Even if they are holographic.”

The Doctor—which was the only name he had ever utilized to her knowledge—looked vaguely uncomfortable, but he didn't hesitate to come right to the point, perhaps suspecting that after having made it this far, he wouldn't have a lot of time to make his presentation.

“I'm here about the Millennium,” he said. “Since resigning from Starfleet, I can only apply as a civilian physician. However, the authorization for me to be accepted as a part of the crew is apparently not in Janeway's hands, but is at the discretion of the Chief Medical Officer's.”

Pulaski blinked, then stared at him, completely bemused. Taking a breath as she tried to stall until she had composed her thoughts, she gestured to a chair. “Have a seat,” she said, deciding that a little politeness never hurt anyone.

He paused, then sank into the chair, peering back at her uncertainly as she took the opportunity to study him curiously. Though she had been at the trial where he had been fighting for his rights as a sentient being, she had never met him personally—primarily because he had never actually shown up to participate in the judicial inquiry. Now she looked him over, trying to determine if she would have been able to tell he was a hologram if she hadn't already known that fact.

“Where's your emitter?” she asked suddenly.

He lifted his arm, covered with the material of a coat.

“Under my clothes,” he said.

“I see,” she said flatly. “You want to appear Human.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “I want to appear as someone who isn't automatically dismissed as irrelevant because of my physical nature.”

Surprised, Pulaski considered that with a touch of amusement. “Nicely put,” she complimented. She lifted her head and eyed him. “You know, I haven't decided yet if I'm even accepting this post.”

He lowered his brows. “I considered that,” he said. “However, if you're not the Millennium's CMO, Janeway's only other option is a medical officer fresh out of his or her internship. I'm not sure I could convince such a person to authorize my inclusion into their medical staff. In fact, I’m positive I couldn’t. You're my only hope of getting on board.”

“Why would you think I'd help you with that?” she said, honestly surprised.

His dark eyes were particularly intent. “Dr. Pulaski, regardless of how you view holograms, you can accept my usefulness as a medical supplement. You also have experience dealing with alternative lifeforms. That provides you with a certain acceptance and tolerance, which is the sort of atmosphere that I can only hope to receive on this particular Starfleet vessel.”

“Ah,” the doctor remarked, thinking about that. “Did Kathryn tell you this was the best way to approach me?”

“She told me what your attitude would be,” he agreed. “However, the only thing she really said to me was that I would have to convince the ship's CMO to hire me to his or her staff on my own. If I were unable to do that, then I wouldn't be able to function on the Millennium as a fully-fledged doctor in any event.”

“She's right,” Pulaski agreed. She linked her fingers behind her head and leaned back in her chair, looking him up and down frankly. “So, convince me that you and I could actually work together for five years.”

If, in the process, he could offer that elusive purpose for her to accept this post, so much the better.