Author: Llachlan

Series:Voyager

Code:Seven of Nine/B'Elanna Torres; (7/J, T/J)

Rating: R

Disclaimer: The characters from Star Trek Voyager are the property of Paramount Studios, and I am knowingly violating their copyright but mean no harm.

Notes: This is my first Voyager effort and is Seven, Janeway and B'Elanna inspired. It comes from a glimpse of how Seven thinks that we saw in the episode "Course: Oblivion". It spans the final season and a half of the series, as well as moving into the time period after The Return.

Contact: the author can be reached at llachness[at]gmail.com

~~~~~~~

"Personal log, Seven of Nine, Stardate 53255.2."

Seven stopped speaking. Perhaps this was the type of event, which one did not record in a logbook. She reconsidered; no one on the ship was likely to be able to decipher the layered Borg encryption code.

"Personal log, Seven of Nine."

Again, she faltered. The scientific description she had been about to enter in her log suddenly felt inaccurate, though precise.

At 2314 hrs, Captain Janeway performed cunnilingus for eleven minutes, thirty-three seconds, inducing two distinct orgasmic events. I reciprocated for four minutes seven second…. Seven let the memory go. She did not have adequate words.

She needed to regenerate, but every time she stood still or lay down, images crowded into her mind, questions unanswered by the night's activity shared space with the new things she had learned; images she was reluctant to part with in order to regenerate. The pleasant euphoria she remembered from Velocity matches was back, though different in a way she was unable to quantify.

Perhaps the Captain could be interested in reprising one or two aspects of the evening.

Unaware of the slight smile lifting one corner of her mouth, Seven crossed from the desk to the small bedroom. Janeway lay sprawled across the entire expanse of one bed, right arm carelessly thrown across her eyes, legs tangled in the sheet which no longer served as a covering. Her breathing was regular and even, the normally tight set of her jaw relaxed.

Seven decided to let the Captain sleep. She stretched out onto the bed designated as hers and lifted the thin sheet over her body. Unused to lying down while regenerating, she was unsure of what to do with her hands and arms, deciding finally to cross them over her abdominal implant.

Precisely ten hours and seventeen minutes later, the cycle completed.

Kathryn Janeway was not in the room. A second later she ascertained that the Captain was not in their temporary accommodation at all.

Slowly she got up from the bed, surprised to find that she was relieved that Janeway had absented herself. If nothing else, it would prevent a redundant and unnecessary admonishment regarding the need of the Captain not to have their activities discussed with the crew at large. The part of Seven that had been honing her sense of humour felt the need to add a comment of its own. As if my reputation would be enhanced by copulating with a woman who made a habit of forming romantic attachments to holograms. She wasn't able to shudder along with the thought yet, but she felt it would not be long before she had mastered that too.

At the moment, there were other projects at hand and much data to collect.

Primarily she wanted to return to the Institute of Science. Several combinations of the technology she had glimpsed the day before melded with Voyagers own systems, created some intriguing possibilities that might help them reach Earth sooner than expected.

Perhaps Lt. Torres could be persuaded to accompany her. Perhaps achieving that would be a project in and of itself.

Perhaps…

Kathryn got up and left the room as soon as she awoke, barely pausing to shower. She had two meetings and then the formal dinner tonight. With any luck, by the time she returned to dress for dinner, Seven would have moved across the hall, and they wouldn't have to talk until later tonight when they could have some privacy. Privacy would be important.

Somehow, things had gotten way out of hand last night. Or in hand as the case may be.

I had sex with Seven. Her conscience reigned her in immediately. Add the woohoo, why don't you?

Now, if she could keep the rest of Voyager's crew from finding out about their little escapade. Aware that she was grinning, she slammed her command mask firmly into place. It wouldn't do for her to be the one to spill the beans. Fortunately, she had four more days' planet side to get a grip, and then a few more days of travel to work out the new dynamics.

And what dynamics they were too.

Janeway sighed. It was going to be a long day.

Seven was unable to shake the feeling that she was being watched. No matter where she turned, it was there; an elusive, barely tangible weight. To either side, the long tables seemed to go on forever. Smaller knots of diners were tangled in a multitude of conversations, none of which included her. A fact she recognized she bore sole responsibility for.

For a brief second, she considered that the food was watching her. It had eyes, but she had been assured that while the food might be overly sweet for her tastes, that it was all quite deceased.

She looked to her left, trying to spot B'Elanna, assuming the engineer would be as uncomfortable as she was. Dark eyes met hers before the conversation again forced the engineer's attention away. It had seemed a sympathetic look.

Not wanting to appear rude by making an inappropriate comment, Seven continued to let the conversations flow around her, mind instead occupied with manipulating the Jaehlon technology to Voyager's ends.

She had phrased her response carefully, partially in an attempt to 'tease' the lieutenant, and partially to see if the engineer would approve of the direction the conversation was heading. Experience had taught her that a modification that was not proposed by Harry Kim or Lt. Torres herself was almost certain to be discarded before even being considered.

The lieutenant had, however, been receptive to her initial suggestions, responding with new ideas that built on her own, and that created new possibilities in turn. It had been astounding. The tentative civility, which began their repeat tour of the facility, had given way to something else. Or more precisely, thought Seven, B'Elanna had gone from surprise at the invitation to barely bridled excitement. Seven was startled to realize how much she had enjoyed the display of passion, an emotion B'Elanna frequently cloaked in anger rather than joy.

Her replay of the afternoon was cut short by the arrival of another dish. An efficient waiter quickly removed her unfinished plate and substituted another. Seven realized her efforts were futile. It did not matter how much she consumed, the steady progression of dishes would continue.

Surely, the Captain did not expect, could not expect that she complete each dish. The abdominal implant still provided her energy conversion needs. She was unable to recall the correct protocol.

A lifetime of existence mocked her as she picked up her fork and prepared to consume the nutritional supplement. Resistance is futile.

 ~~~

Half a table away, B'Elanna watched Seven's eyes widen, then narrow in determination. Funny how easy it was to see the expressions on the blonde's face now that she knew what to look for. It was all in the ocular implant. As Seven went, so went the implant above her left eye; raising or lowering to suit the mood being expressed.

Right now, B'Elanna detected consternation and as Seven glanced quickly at the Captain, she thought there was also a touch of anger. Now that's interesting. Barbie Borg is mad at…she corrected herself…Seven's pissed with Katie. Then the former drone's gaze was turned in her direction. She'd already tried signaling encouragement the few other times their eyes had met, but B'Elanna decided that this time something a little more drastic was in order.

It was time for Operation Houdini.

As surreptitiously as possible under the circumstances, B'Elanna removed a small PADD from her pants pocket. Resting it on one thigh, she began to program a sequence of commands that would ultimately lead to at least temporary emancipation for Seven. And confinement for me if Janeway catches on. Continuing to converse with her neighbour about fluidic space made it difficult to concentrate, but was necessary if she were to avoid drawing undue attention from the Captain.

Minutes later, the program was complete, now she just had to communicate her intentions to Seven. The comlink was out; Janeway would hear the hail. What she needed was a bathroom break. That was probably against protocol though. Voyager didn't have a wardroom as such, but she remembered quite clearly from Academy etiquette lessons that neither a junior officer nor a guest left the table before the senior officer or host.

The Jaehlon, however, were apparently much more civilized. Without warning a little bell sounded and everyone around her stood. B'Elanna quickly followed suit. "What's going on?"

"A break there is, and places will change." With that brief explanation he steeped away from the table and moved toward another group of people.

Taking the opportunity, she quickly located Seven. "How would you like a warm bath and a…," she'd been about to suggest a book, but didn't think that would have the same appeal for Seven as it would've for her, "…lot less people. One person, in fact."

"Elaborate."

"Tonight you finally get quarters all to yourself. Total privacy. I thought maybe you might want to duck out of here and indulge yourself. Unless of course you were having fun here."

B'Elanna wasn't sure exactly which emotions flashed across Seven's face, but she definitely picked out relief.

"That would be acceptable."

"Good." She took Seven's elbow and guided them to a corner. "When you get to the Delta Flyer, beam yourself to your quarters. I used the transporter to move your portable regen unit over, so the coordinates should still be in the buffer."

Seven nodded acceptance. "Why do you not 'escape' yourself?"

It was a good question. One she didn't have a ready answer for. Instead she shrugged and went with a joke. "Klingon hybrid remember? I've got two stomachs."

Seven's response was to hold up a bulging cloth napkin. "I adapted, though you did not provide instruction on how to dispose of the remnants."

B'Elanna had a difficult time not doubling over with laughter. "I'll clarify later. Right now, you need to get out of here. Go on, stick up a do not disturb sign, lock the door and have a blast. Try singing in your underwear." She held up a hand to forestall the torrent of questions. "Kidding about the underwear."

"Thank-you, B'Elanna."

"No problem." She opened the program that would initiate a remote transport. "Oh and Seven?"

Seven arched a brow waiting.

"Don't let the bedbugs bite." Seven dissolved as the last syllables faded, but B'Elanna would have sworn she'd seen a smile.

The door was locked. Kathryn frowned to herself. Maybe she shouldn't have left this morning without speaking to Seven and making sure that the young woman was okay with what had transpired between them. No kidding, Einstein.

Torres was in the shower, so she had a few more minutes before her absence would be noticed. And unless the Klingon was in the habit of taking her communicator into the shower, she also had a brief window of privacy available.

"Janeway to Seven of Nine."

The seconds ticked by without response. She was getting worried now. "Janeway to Seven of Nine."

"Go ahead Captain."

It was then she noticed the hand lettered 'Do Not Disturb' sign and her stomach sunk further. "Is anything wrong?"

"I am undamaged. I am merely enjoying 'privacy'."

Janeway thought she heard the sound of water lapping against the side of the large wooden tub. "Alright then Seven, I'll see you in the morning. Janeway out."

She crossed back over to her quarters, unsure how she felt about not having gained admittance. Seven sounded fine, no different than any other time they had spoken. Well, now it would have to wait. At the very least they'd get to talk the day after tomorrow, when they were scheduled to share quarters again.

Seven sank lower in the water, her communicator relegated to the floor. Before leaving the Delta Flyer, she'd done a little research. She decided she liked hot baths, though it appeared that a 'Do Not Disturb' sign was ineffective.

The water was again beginning to cool, so she drained some and added more hot; there had to be a way to prevent a bath from cooling. Maybe she could even discover how to keep the bubbles from vanishing. She closed her eyes and as per the instructions attempted to let her mind drift. It refused.

Thoughts of Jaehlon technology, dinner, and the Captain slid around Voyager's technical schematics then mixed with warp field equations. Each image seemed to grow out of the one that came before it, though the connections between the elements eluded her.

She tried to follow one particular set of equations then lost the thread to a passing thought of B'Elanna. The other woman had had no difficulty envisioning uses for the technology. A sketch B'Elanna had made of the power flow intruded but before she could focus clearly, it was gone, replaced by the fierce light in the engineer's liquid brown eyes.

Seven sat upright. Liquid brown eyes?

Yes. Liquid brown.

Perhaps some more research was in order.

Janeway picked up her mug and took another sip of coffee; it was too good to let it go cold. "Report ladies."

B'Elanna and Seven exchanged glances and seemed to be deciding who would speak first, though protocol stipulated that the Chief Engineer had precedence. The Klingon nodded to Seven and the ex-drone passed over a PADD.

"The Jaehlon have discovered a way to force matter into a new state."

The mug shattered as it hit the floor. Janeway ignored the mess and stared at her officers, Seven looked as if she'd merely announced the weather and B'Elanna looked smug.

"Can this new form of matter be converted to energy?"

Seven looked at her reprovingly. "All matter can be converted to energy Captain."

Janeway almost smiled. To think that she's been worried that Seven's behavior toward her would change as a result of the other night.

B'Elanna passed over a PADD of her own. "More importantly that its conversion is the amount of energy released from that conversion. And as an added bonus, it's stable unless a specific set of events is triggered."

"Do you think that you and B'Elanna can design a system to take advantage of this state?"

There was no reply. Seven appeared to be merely staring at her PADD.

"Seven?"

"Yes, Captain, I believe that we can."

Janeway nodded, letting the Borg's lapse in concentration go uncommented upon. "If that's it then, I'll see you for dinner later, right now I have an appointment with a hairdresser and a bath." She was looking forward to the tranquility of the private suite. B'Elanna still snored and the double suite only had a shower.

B'Elanna laughed. "Maybe you should lend her your do not disturb sign, Seven."

"It is not efficient."

Seven was looking directly at her, but the mock glare was tempered by the curve to the former drone's lips.

A part Janeway that hadn't even realized she was tense relaxed suddenly. There were still parameters to discuss, but the friendship was intact.

The doors began to shut, almost pinning her between the halves before she could step forward. Seven had apparently beaten her back to their quarters.

"What's this?" B'Elanna swept her hands in an arc, indicating the candles that had appeared on almost every available flat surface of the room.

"You are a distraction to my thinking process."

"A distraction? To your thinking processes?" She didn't know whether or not to laugh - Seven was complaining about B'Elanna being a distracting presence - did she have half a clue how distracting she and her 'skin' suit were too the rest of the crew? To poor Harry? Hell, half the engineers at the Jaehlon Institute of Science had spent the afternoon oogling Seven.

"That is correct." Seven stood in her trademarked pose, looking for all the world as though she were delivering the monthly maintenance report.

"And?" B'Elanna already knew the 'and' - the candles were a give away, though someone should have told Seven that there were supposed to be lit.

"I wish to copulate with you."

Not a single protest crossed her mind, but B'Elanna felt she had to offer up at least token resistance. "But Seven, I thought you liked men?"

A look B'Elanna recognized as embarrassment flitted across Seven's face. "I have insufficient data to form a conclusion regarding my sexual preferences. Lt. Chapman was not adequate for the task."

B'Elanna smirked. She'd heard that about Chapman, but doubted that that was what Seven had meant. "You believe I will be adequate?"

Seven moved quickly, closing the distance between them in a breath. "Yes."

Passion and curiousity warred in Seven's eyes, and B'Elanna leaned in, erasing the remaining gap. Perhaps Seven knew exactly what she meant. "Then I will comply."

She didn't know who kissed whom, but B'Elanna did know that she'd been waiting for that kiss since Seven had bitten her.

Then they were on the floor. She heard ripping, but didn't know if the sound came from her shirt or Seven's, both had been discarded. Seven's skin was warm, warmer than any other human she'd ever been with, and soft, unmarked.

She turned her head, wanting to see Seven's face. Instead she found herself looking along the woman's back to the hollow at the base of her spine and the implant nestled in the dip. It too was warm, and B'Elanna ran her fingers across it, surprised when Seven shuddered in response. Intrigued, she twisted her body, until she had Seven pinned facedown beneath her. Seven had tensed, so B'Elanna started at the base of Seven's neck, though she avoided the implant below the woman's right ear: it was not the current target.

By the time she reached the base of Seven's spine, it had become almost impossible to hold the woman down, and when her mouth made contact with the swath of metal, she lost the fight entirely. Somehow, Seven had reversed their positions and was grinding into her.

No matter how long she lived, she'd never forget the look on Seven's face; nor the fact that she'd been the one to put it there. Alabaster cheeks were now tinged pink, their rosy colour adding warmth to normally ice blue eyes.

But for now, she was going to try for an encore.

~~~

Seven sat up, making sure that the blanket remained covering B'Elanna.

She had succeeded.

It had been easier than expected, though she had had to work very hard to keep from informing the engineer that her physiognomic responses indicated that B'Elanna was as distracted by her as she was by B'Elanna.

Her body still tingled, and she knew that her temperature was elevated. She looked down at her slumbering companion, and obeyed the impulse to run the tip of a mesh-covered finger over the textured ridges of B'Elanna's brow. B'Elanna shifted slightly, but did not awaken, so Seven continued her appraisal of the other woman. Something about this woman had made this experience completely different from the one she'd shared with Janeway.

Torres and Janeway were of a similar stature, and shared the same basic frame, though B'Elanna's musculature belied her unique heritage. Their hair was of similar length; both were fiercely independent and possessed superior intelligence.

The Captain hid it better than B'Elanna, but both had fiery temperaments, were overly competitive, and hated to be thwarted or lose at anything.

They were similar, but not the same. They were individuals and the experience had not been the same.

More data was required. Seven moved her hand under the sheet.

Starting now.

~~~

Something was wrong.

It was her sense of smell that alerted her, and it was the tactile sensations that her fingertips were feeding back to her groggy brain that confirmed it.

Seven was gone.

She didn't know quite what she'd expected a morning after the night before to be like in this case, but she was pretty sure, that waking up alone hadn't been part of the plan.

Her first impulse was to go and find Seven, but then she realized that she needed the time to go over what had happened. Seven seduced you.

B'Elanna snorted. It hadn't been a seduction. She'd been propositioned.

Poor Harry. He had no idea what he'd turned down. She thought about it for a minute. Seven wasn't the same person now that she'd been back then. Sure, the directness remained, and sometimes she was still tactless and infuriating, but there was also loyalty, humour and a genuine desire to contribute to Voyager's success.

No, this was a very different Seven. B'Elanna swung her legs off the bed, relishing the pleasant ache in her muscles. Janeway's little girl was all grown up. A shower could wait for a minute or two; first, she'd find Seven.

The brown biosuit was neatly folded on the foot of the other bed, but a quick look revealed that Seven had instead worn the simple Jaehlon outfit of tunic and trousers. It couldn't have been ripped that badly then.

She'd just finished picking her own clothes up off the floor when the doors open and Seven stepped inside. Both women froze.

With uncharacteristic foresight, B'Elanna knew that the future would pivot on this moment. Whatever she said now would determine if they would remain friends or regress to posturing which had marked so many of their previous interactions.

Seven's face betrayed no hint of what she was feeling, but B'Elanna wasn't misled by the apparent impassivity; after last night she would never again assume that Seven of Nine was incapable of an emotional response. Time continued to spin forward, though they hung in place.

"Hey." B'Elanna said, softly. Next move was Seven's; she'd be damned if she were going to do all of the work.

Delicate lips opened, then closed; Seven tilted her head slightly to one side, then finally responded. "Hey yourself."

B'Elanna smiled. "Where'd you disappear to?"

A data PADD was held up as a partial answer. "I required additional data for our calculations. It seemed an opportune time to retrieve it." Seven moved father into the room and deposited the PADD on a table already containing numerous PADDs and schematic drawings.

For the second time that morning, B'Elanna's heightened sense of smell alerted her. "Umm, Seven, did you, umm…" she trailed off. Seven was looking at her expectantly, so she decided just to be blunt. "Seven, you need a shower."

"I do not stink."

B'Elanna moved closer, nostrils quivering slightly. "No. But you smell like sex."

Seven looked confused.

Without thinking it through, she positioned her bare shoulder just under Seven's nose. B'Elanna ran her fingertips over her own collarbone. "Me too, see?" Whatever else transpired between them, no way was she going to contribute to Seven developing any sexual hang-ups.

The blonde head lowered, then moved imperceptibly along the indicated path. Seven's warm breath triggered responses primed by last night's explorations and B'Elanna thought her knees would buckle. She reached to kiss the implant below Seven's ear.

"What is it?" Seven spoke again, forestalling her.

"You. Me. Us."

"It is not unpleasant." It was as much question as statement.

Their lips were almost touching now. B'Elanna wished she could gage what Seven was feeling, but they were too close for her to resolve the pattern. "No, it's not, but it is private." She was rather proud of the explanation and knew that Seven would grasp its implications.

Then overwhelmed, she stepped back and turned toward the bathroom. "C'mon, you can shower with me."

A short while later, they lay side by side on a pile of crumpled towels.

"I still don't like you." B'Elanna smiled as she spoke.

The ocular implant raised slightly. "I too am ambivalent about your status."

"And don't think that this means that I won't yell at you the next time you invade my engine room and begin making unauthorized alterations."

"Your irrational recalcitrance will not deter my efforts at improving the efficiency of Voyager's systems."

"Just so that's clear then."

"Crystal."

B'Elanna laughed. Sometimes it wasn't what you said, but how you said it.

Seven looked up as the Captain entered the laboratory the Jaehlon had assigned them to assist in their calculations.

"Lunch?"

B'Elanna leapt to her feet immediately. "What did'ya bring?"

"A little of this, a little of that. I figured that neither of you would stop to eat."

"I do not require -"

"- a nutritional supplement at this time. At least have some milk, Seven. It does a body good." B'Elanna rummaged through the basket the Captain had placed on the table. "Here you go."

She took the container from B'Elanna, unsure how to proceed and was grateful when the Captain, removed a glass from the basket and poured the milk into it.

"Cheers, ladies."

Seven was familiar with the salutation, though she was unaware of any special occasion to be marked. She held her glass up, amused to note that B'Elanna had held up the foodstuff she was consuming.

The captain noticed it too. "Hungry, Lieutenant?"

"Famished. We…I skipped breakfast this morning." B'Elanna went right back to eating.

Seven watched. The engineer's cheeks had darkened slightly. "Are you alright, Lieutenant?"

"I'm fine Seven." B'Elanna looked her right in the eyes. "Some of us don't have your stamina."

She'd been caught mid-swallow, and it was only with great difficulty that she kept from coughing. Janeway was looking at her, concernedly. "I am undamaged Captain. I believe Naomi would indicate that it merely went down the wrong hole."

Captain Janeway nodded. "You have to remember not to breath and swallow at the same time." She picked up a PADD. "So, how goes it?"

The remainder of the lunch was forgotten and the rest of the afternoon disappeared as the three women immersed themselves in structural analysis calculations and energy flow diagrams.

The door had barely swished shut before Janeway stepped into view. It appeared that the Captain had been waiting for her.

"Sit down Seven." Janeway waved at a chair.

Seven complied, disappointed. Whenever the Captain asked her to sit, it was generally accompanied by a discussion of her deficiencies.

"I wanted to talk to you about the other night." Janeway herself was not seated. Instead, she paced an elliptical path in the area to Seven's right, sometimes closer, sometimes farther away.

"Was my performance adequate?"

Janeway halted in her tracks and responded with the short barking laugh that telegraphed her discomfort. "No Seven, you were more than adequate."

Seven nodded pleased. She had not wanted to be inept. There had been much conflicting procedural data in her memories and computer records. The pleasure gave way to a measure of what she identified as annoyance, but she saw no way to forestall what she knew was to come. Janeway would make this adaptation to their relationship as difficult as possible. She'd heard Chakotay mutter about the Captain's 'martyr complex,' and believed she finally understood. The Captain could not do anything the easy way.

Janeway spoke again. "Seven, I'm the ship's Captain."

"Indeed. I had not noticed." For a second she thought her attempt at what the Doctor termed 'sarcastic wit' had failed. It had not.

Janeway smiled slightly, but it was clear that the older woman would not be distracted from her chosen course. "That is not what I meant."

"I know. You are going to reiterate that it is inappropriate for you to become involved with a member of the crew. You are then going to detail how it would undermine the discipline of the crew with a probable digression to cover the possibility that the crew would attempt to use our altered status against me. Next will come a brief explanation of your desire not to corrupt my emotional development. That will then be followed by a request not to discuss our recreational sexual activities with anyone aboard Voyager," she paused, "or the alpha, beta, gamma, and delta quadrants. Have I forgotten anything?"

"No." Janeway looked unsettled.

"Captain. Kathryn. I am aware that you are the ship's Captain. I am also aware that you do not have the time, nor do you believe you can spare the energy required to maintain a relationship that is romantic in nature."

"You are?"

"Yes. But that is not relevant to this situation." Seven patiently continued, much as she would have with Naomi, though frustrated that the captain gave her so little credit.

"It's not?"

"No." Sometimes, Seven wondered which of them had more to learn about human interaction. "It is not."

Janeway slumped into a chair. "Then by all means, enlighten me."

Seven could tell that this philosophical discussion was not going according to the way Janeway had probably planned it. A fact, she found, that pleased her. "I do not desire a relationship of a romantic nature with you. I wish to remain friends. I found the experience pleasant; perhaps instead of Velocity we can engage in recreational sex periodically. Unlike other members of the crew, I have had no previous opportunity to explore my sexual identity. I require help to do so." She stopped for a moment, then continued. "I find that discretion is also of value to me."

With that, Janeway got out of her chair and walked over to a window. "You say you want to be friends, and that is exactly what concerns me; that our friendship would be damaged. Engaging in a relationship of a sexual nature is not the same as playing Velocity once a week."

Seven looked at the Captain, trying to discern the meaning behind the words. Unable to form a suitable hypothesis, she merely waited for Janeway to continue.

The Captain took a deep breath and turned to face her. "I'm concerned that you might form an emotional attachment to me."

"Kathryn, I am already emotionally attached to you, as I believe you are to me. Is that not a component of friendship?"

"Yes, it is." Janeway returned to stand in front of Seven. "Well then, a friendship with fringe benefits it is."

Her assessment had been correct; the Captain was now treating this as another of their philosophical discussions. Seven smiled slightly, and took the proffered straight line. "Fringe benefits?"

Kathryn smiled back. "Allow me to elaborate."

Seven placed the PADD down on the table in front of her. It would not work. The technology was fundamentally incompatible. Voyager's systems were based on a science that had not envisioned what the Jaehlon now, ironically, considered obsolete. Replacing the warp core would not a problem, but it would be impossible to compensate for the removal of the bio-neural circuitry; the computer system would not function without the gel packs and the gel packs were not compatible with the new source of energy.

For an instant, she envied B'Elanna. The engineer would simply throw a PADD or two against a wall, exorcise her anger, then return to work. Had she been alone, she might have been tempted to try it, but Seven was unwilling to wake the Captain. They would begin the return trip to Voyager in thirty-two hours and if she were going to salvage anything of scientific value she didn't need the distraction an awake Janeway would endeavor to provide.

It was her fault. Instead of research she had spent her time frivolously. How did humans manage the conflict between duty and … she stumbled mentally …and a personal life? It seemed an impossible proposition. On Voyager there could be no separation. Was that what Kathryn meant when she spoke of the inappropriateness of their relationship? That duty was constant, paramount? Aboard Voyager there was no off-duty. That was borne out by the current situation. They had come to the Jaehlon homeworld on shore leave, but that had changed the instant she and B'Elanna had discovered a potential source of energy; they were now on an away mission.

The Doctor had let his desire for a personal life overwhelm his sense of duty to Voyager, and he was programmed to operate as EMH; surely that imperative should have overridden everything else. Clearly it had not.

Ensign Paris was constantly being chastised for allowing recreation to interfere with duty, yet Kathryn and the Doctor were constantly encouraging her to devote more time to the same pursuits which resulted in so much trouble for Paris. It was illogical.

Perhaps Tuvok could help clarify the conundrum. He appeared to have attained balance. She would consult with him immediately upon her return to Voyager. Until then she would pursue the path of duty.

The Delta Flyer was quiet. Given that two of the occupants were B'Elanna Torres and Seven of Nine, Kathryn Janeway was not entirely ungrateful. The away mission had been a success; at least by her reckoning. Seven on the other hand had viewed her inability to adapt the Jaehlon technology to Voyager's systems as a personal affront. The younger woman had yet to learn that sometimes you rolled the dice and they came up craps.

Success would have been nice, still, she wasn't going to complain. B'Elanna and Seven were on speaking terms - even if both were currently silent. It was a development that as much as it pleased her, seemed to confound B'Elanna. The engineer kept watching Seven when she thought she wouldn't be observed.

Kathryn stifled a laugh. It hadn't been all that long ago that it had been Seven covertly watching B'Elanna, something that the engineer hadn't been too pleased about. Whatever was going on, there was peace at last. For now. She was under no illusions, hostilities could break out again at any moment, but she suspected that they would be tempered by the genuine respect she sensed had grown out of their away mission.

Her little experiment had been a success. Maybe she'd add that to the Starfleet maual - got a problem crew member or two? Take em on an away mission. They come back cured or dead. Either way problem solved. Kathryn grimaced. She preferred one hundred percent success rates so she doubted she be trying this again anytime soon.

Especially not with a nice little invitation from the Pendari to visit and possibly exchange a wealth of data, along with a few luxuries that she'd like to bring back for the crew, tucked away in her ready room. They were due to have a ship wide shore leave on Norcadia Prime when they got back and she'd finally get some alone time.

She looked at Seven. Or not.

It was quiet in the mess hall; most of alpha shift was sleeping, beta shift had already consumed their evening meal and gamma shift was on duty. During the periods when it was unoccupied, Seven found the room an ideal alternative to working in the cargo bay or Astrometrics. The tables provided ample space to spread her equations and other material and the nearby replicators allowed for an occasional indulgence.

Her current indulgence had grown warm while she sat and evaluated her options, rendering it, Seven discovered, undrinkable.

She didn't like warm milk.

On the surface it seemed a simple enough statement, but she recognized its significance immediately. To test her theory she made another statement to herself. I do not wish to accompany Kathryn to Pendari.

It too was a conclusion, but unlike her decision regarding the acceptable temperature at which to consume milk, it was not based on any empirical evidence. It was a proposition acting as an unchallenged conclusion. So what then were the causative statements? Why did she want to refuse the invitation?

She didn't have the answers. Perhaps a fresh glass of milk was in order.

Halfway to the replicator, the mess hall doors opened with their customary swish, revealing Neelix.

"How good to see you, Seven. My new sensor system alerted me that someone was still here and I thought I'd come by to see if I could be of any assistance."

"I do not require assistance at this time." She ignored the implication of the sensor system, though fully aware that Neelix had probably known exactly who was in the mess hall before he had arrived.

The Talaxian nodded, not offended by her refusal, though plainly curious about her presence.

She turned slightly toward the replicator, not completely turning away from Neelix. She liked him and had no wish to cause hurt unnecessarily. "Nutritional suppliment pi beta phi." Her drink appeared and she removed it from the unit.

"Protien? Sugar? Carbohydrate elixir?" Neelix indicated the tumbler.

"Milk."

"And you didn't just ask for milk…" Neelix let the sentence hang.

"The replicator is imprecise." She'd learned the hard way that there were literally hundreds of types of milk. Not all of them compatible with either her physiology or her taste buds. Programming the specific drink seemed the most efficient option.

She returned to her seat, Neelix trailing along behind. He picked up the glass that was already on the table and was sniffing the contents. "Was this one imprecise?" He smiled.

"Warm."

"You don't like warm milk?" He sounded surprised, though judging by what he thought would be acceptable to the human palate, perhaps he was genuinely astounded.

"No."

He clucked. "You just haven't had it prepared correctly." Neelix immediately headed for the kitchen and began rattling pots.

Seven sincerely doubted that what ever came out of the kitchen would, in fact, be prepared as 'correctly' as Neelix wished.

None the less, when he returned and handed her a large mug, she accepted it. Seven could see the steam rising from the contents, and detected a faintly sweet aroma mixed with something she could not identify.

"There you go. One steamed milk."

It looked innocuous, so Seven raised the drink to her lips and took a cautious sip. Then another. She looked up to thank Neelix, but he was already on his way out of the mess hall. Leaning back against the chair, she continued to sip the steamed milk, intrigued by the flavours and enjoying the warmth of the mug against her hands.

With that in mind she began to rethink some of her other assumptions.

The first thing B'Elanna noticed when she and Chakotay entered the mess hall was Seven of Nine. She was sitting with Tuvok, both apparently engrossed in the contents of the data PADDS they were exchanging. She ignored Seven, choosing instead to focus on the large unappetizing pot brewing on the cook stove. "Tell me that's not lunch."

Neelix shuffled over stiffly, face rigid. "It's leola ointment for my skin.

Now that he had come closer, B'Elanna could see that Neelix's body was a nasty shade of yellowish red.

"What happened?" Chakotay asked, looking past the Talaxian and into the kitchen.

"I was so excited to visit one of those beautiful Norcadian beaches that I forgot to take my dermaline hypospray. I fell asleep…under two suns."

B'Elanna winced. "Ouch."

Neelix raised one hand gingerly. "A little more colour than I was hoping for, but it'll be a beautiful amber before you know it." The laugh that accompanied the words was strained. "How's your shore leave been?"

She grabbed one of the tomatoes from the dish Neelix was cradling awkwardly. "Well, we've spent the last few days at the Tsunkatse matches." It hadn't been her first choice of either how to spend part of her shore leave - or who to spend it with. She stole another glance at Seven, whom remained focused on Tuvok.

"Tsunkatse, I heard some crewmen talking about that during breakfast." Neelix looked interested.

"You should join us this afternoon." She was talking to Neelix, but she was still watching Seven. The blonde chose that moment to look up and their eyes met.

"From what I have heard, Tsunkatse is crude and pointless." Seven's rejoinder indicated that she wasn't as focused on Tuvok as B'Elanna had thought.

"Well, I guess we won't be saving you a seat." B'Elanna replied. For an instant when Seven had stood to join them she thought the other woman had changed her mind and they could spend at least some time together. She'd been wrong.

Chakotay looked at the Vulcan. "What about you, Tuvok? You appreciate the martial arts."

"I have other plans." Tuvok handed Chakotay a PADD. "There is a micro-nebula on the verge of collapse approximately 1.6 light-years from here."

"We would like to take a shuttle to study it." Seven added.

Neelix nearly did a double take. "An away mission during shore leave?"

"Commander Tuvok and I do not require recreational activities."

She won't go to the Norcadian Installation for Technological Advancement with me, but she'll spend two days in a shuttle with Tuvok? B'Elanna was astounded. "The Borg wouldn't know fun if they assimilated an amusement park." She ignored the hurt she saw flash in Seven's eyes at her renewed use of the word Borg.

She did, however, refrain from commenting on Chakotay's order for them to have fun. No matter how confused she was, she was not going to completely destroy the current state of détente.

~~

The doors to cargo bay two opened and Seven looked up from the container she was preparing, to find Tom Paris entering the room.

"Here's the navigational data you asked for."

Seven took the proffered PADD. "Thank-you." She returned to her task, but Paris failed to leave.

"How long are you planning on being gone?"

"Approximately 48 hours." She rounded off.

"Just like B'Elanna."

"Clarify."

"Well, she overpacks, too."

"I haven't overpacked. I simply wish to be prepared for any contingency."

Paris got the same smug look on his face that he had every time he thought he was about to best someone. "And what contingency is this for?"

Seven finished with the cross hatch spanner and looked up. "That's an iso-modulator, enhanced to correct hull ablation in the event we encounter a meteoroid stream." And she was supposed to believe that he had designed and built the Delta Flyer?

"Couldn't you just replicate an iso-modular." He was holding the tool as though it were a ray gun in one of his Captain Proton holo-novels.

"I prefer this one." Seven removed the tool from Paris and immediately moved away to indicate that she was busy. She did not want to be discussing anything with Tom Paris.

"Oh, I get it. You like to have your own things with you. B'Elanna's the same way. You know, she'd never admit it, but she still takes a stuffed animal with her whenever she goes away for more than a day. Toby the Targ."

Toby the Targ. Her memory supplied the information at the same time as Tom spoke the name. This conversation was over. "Can Toby the Targ correct hull ablation?"

Paris didn't respond.

"Your comparison is flawed." When she was sure that he had gone, she stopped and leaned against a crate. The mention of Toby the Targ had triggered what she recognized as disappointment and something else that she was not able to identify. It was almost like anger, but different in a way that she was unable to quantify.

She put the thoughts aside. Research along those lines was unproductive and she would be better served reviewing what she knew about veridium-oxide particulate in preparation for their away mission.

Pants to the left; data pads to the right; everything else she tossed over her shoulder onto the bed. Satisfied that she had recovered most of the floor space in her bedroom, B'Elanna stood. Her eyes widened. The bed was completely covered. How in the hell had she collected so much stuff? She's only had a small carryall and the clothes on her back when she'd arrived on Voyager and it wasn't like there'd been a plethora of shopping opportunities. Maybe she should save herself a pile of time and just blow everything out an airlock.

The door chime sounded, giving the jumbled mess at least temporary reprieve. "Come in."

She just stood, staring as her visitor was revealed. Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix Zero One, late of the Borg Collective, currently Voyager's talented and infuriating Astrometrics Officer, was the last person she'd expected to see. The designation came unbidden, as though by enumerating Seven's titles, she could obscure the recent changes to their relationship.

My lover. The thought ghosted under the formal designation.

Or was she? Confused by the woman's presence, B'Elanna decided to let Seven speak first, unwilling to risk another rejection.

Seven seemed in no hurry to break the silence or explain her presence, and B'Elanna found herself just drinking in the sight of the blonde. The bruises she had brought back from her ordeal had faded, but there was an air about Seven that hadn't been there before. They just watched each other for awhile and paradoxically she felt her tension lessen as the minutes passed. Still watching the calm blue eyes, she smiled.

"I wish to engage in fun," Seven paused, "so that I may recognize it, in the event I am afforded an opportunity to assimilate an amusement park.

B'Elanna spotted the slight smile and laughed. "Then I'd say we're going to Disneyland."

Personal Log, Seven of Nine, Stardate 53531.6

Fun is not irrelevant.

Seven ended the log and stepped into the alcove.

"Regeneration cycle complete."

B'Elanna stepped forward, until she was almost touching Seven. "Hey."

"Lieutenant." Three syllables and the barest hint of a smile and they were worth all of the I love yous that she'd ever heard.

The silence that fell was comfortable, but expectant. B'Elanna didn't make either of them wait. Slowly she trailed a meandering finger from the edge of Seven's jaw to where she knew the abdominal implant started. "So. Ever had recreational sex in a Borg alcove?"

Seven appeared to give the question serious thought. B'Elanna was mildly taken aback; though they hadn't discussed it, she'd assumed she was Seven's first lover.

Seven looked almost shy as she answered, "I have not," there was a pause and a change of expression, "nor have I copulated in the briefing room."

"Would you like to?" She purred the words against Seven's throat and was rewarded with a tiny shiver.

"Frequently."

B'Elanna was intrigued, yet a whole new side to Seven. One worth exploring. "Where else would you like to make love?" As she asked, she continued to separate the biosuit from its owner.

"The floor in main engineering."

The visual image she got from Seven's words was so strong that she nearly growled as she took the skin of a now free alabaster shoulder between her teeth. She slid her hands down Seven's back, tugging the sleek material as she went, then pulled Seven even closer. Bringing one hand around to the front, she sought the small, yet perfect clitoris nestled in the baby fine curls which covered Seven's mons.

Soft moans had begun to fill the air, and B'Elanna clamped her jaw tightly, aware that there wasn't enough soundproofing in the cargo bay to keep their adventure a secret if she forgot and lost control.

"Where is your preferred location?"

Right now, the answer was a resounding here but B'Elanna knew that wasn't what Seven meant. She was having trouble standing, and still somehow managed to breathe out her reply. "The Brig."

Sharp teeth clamped on her shoulder as Seven shuddered, then sagged against the alcove wall, taking B'Elanna backwards.

"A most fortuitous choice, since if we are caught, that is precisely where we will be confined."

"The possibility of being caught is half the fun, Seven."

Seven twisted one of her nipples and B'Elanna gasped against her will. That was followed by a nip of an earlobe and a whisper. "Half?"

This time she did growl. "Almost." Pulling Seven's head down into another kiss, she began a repeat demonstration.

Seven focused on the warmth that spread through her body. She felt heavy and light at the same time. B'Elanna was curled up next to her and she listened as their breathing fell into the same rhythm. Her eyes began to close and she was aware that she was falling asleep. Instead of fighting the pleasant sensation, she let it take her.

"Sweet dreams, Seven."

B'Elanna sounded far away and she struggled to respond, settling on a tiny smile instead of words, asleep almost before she completed the thought.

Kathryn smiled as she read the message that had appeared on her console. "Acceptable." That was Seven through and through, why use a sentence when one word would do. Now she just had to figure out what to cook. Through the course of their relationship, they had shared many meal times but few successful meals. She couldn't even blame Seven's finicky digestive system, the truth was she couldn't cook. At all.

It didn't really matter anyway she supposed, dinner wasn't the point of the evening. Seven wanted to talk about something, a private meal was merely the chosen venue. She smiled to herself, oddly relaxed. Part of her used to dread philosophical discussions with Seven - one never knew quite where they would lead, and she often found herself in territory that astounded her. After surviving the last one, Kathryn was positive that there was nothing Seven could throw at her that she couldn't handle. After all, the last time Seven had thrown herself; all six feet of her.

The door chime rang and she signaled admittance.

"Right on time Seven."

The blonde was looking suspiciously around the room. "You did not…cook?"

"You wanted me to?"

"No. I did not." Seven looked at her and smiled slightly, then made her way to the replicator. "Please set the table."

"Aye, aye." What she really wanted to do was watch Seven, instead she laid out cutlery and glasses, unsure of what else they might need. As an afterthought she added a vase with some flowers Naomi had given her the day before.

Behind her, she could hear a series of beeps and the almost silent tapping of buttons. Whatever Seven was doing, it didn't appear to be easy. Then it hit her, assaulting her her senses and making her mouth water. Pot roast. That was going to need a carving knife. She silently added a prayer, please let there be gravy.

"You may be seated."

Kathryn sat. Seven carried over a variety of small covered dishes and took her own seat on the opposite side of the table so that they were facing each other. "Oh my god, Seven, where did you learn to do this?"

"It is not difficult. I programmed the exact parameters in a three-dimensional model, then transferred the matrix to the replicator system.

They ate in silence for sometime, she heaping her plate with everything that would fit, Seven sampling the dishes delicately.

It was Seven who spoke first. "May I ask you a question?"

Kathryn realized that this was the official beginning of the philosophical discussion. If it were a minor question or polite social conversation, Seven wouldn't have asked, she would simply have spoken. "Why don't we move over to the couch first?"

"Acceptable."

They moved to the couch, sitting side by side, legs up, in identical poses. It had taken many evenings to get Seven to experiment with 'getting comfortable' but she'd finely managed to find a way to sit that didn't make Kathryn want to wince or salute.

"I wish to understand public sex."

The coffee she'd just swallowed hung in her throat, her muscles paralyzed. Life was so much easier when Seven's questions were confined to simple things, like ethics and genocide. Finally the coffee went down and she managed a sage nod. Technical would be the way to go here she decided, and maybe they could get through this without Seven suggesting they have recreational sex on the bridge. "I'm probably not the best person to ask about this, but from what I do know, it's considered thrill seeking behaviour. Human beings are indoctrinated with certain social taboos - generally the strongest are around sexual issues - and the breaking of the taboo gives the participants a rush."

"A rush?"

"Adrenaline. People can become addicted to the rush; we call them adrenaline junkies. Public sex gives them a rush combined with a means to discharge part of the high. The aftermath of a high from a dangerous activity is often arousal, public sex provides the adreniline and arousal without the physical danger."

Seven appeared to be giving her words a great deal of thought and the younger woman remained quiet for a few minutes. Kathryn wondered what was going on behind the furrowed brow.

"Orbital skydiving is a thrill seeking behavior?"

Now where had that come from? "Yes."

"Public recreational sex can be a substitute for more dangerous behavior?"

"For some people."

"But it is not necessary?" Seven was watching her intently, something smoldering behind blue eyes suddenly turned almost cobalt.

Her own voice deepened in response. "No, it's not."

Seven leaned over, bringing their bodies into contact. "You may elaborate."

In fact, her adrenaline levels were currently elevated by twenty seven percent and her next encounter with B'Elanna was still three hours and thirteen minutes in the future.

"Bridge to Seven of Nine."

"Seven here."

"We need you on the Bridge." Janeway sounded tense. "We've got a Borg energy reading on our sensors and we can't raise the Delta Flyer."

"On my way Captain." As she left the cargo bay, she was aware of the shift in her mood. Her adrenaline levels were still elevated, but instead of her stomach being slightly unsettled in response, her abdominal muscles had tightened. Interesting.

She filed the response away and headed for the bridge.

Janeway was reclining on the couch in her ready room, a pose that Seven had come to learn was deceptive. It generally meant that the Captain wanted something. "We've sent out calls to any Brunali and Norcadian ships that might be in the vicinity, but we haven't gotten any responses so far--and we're still trying to figure out where the other two came from. It may take a while."

"They could use the time. They have a great deal to learn."

"It might help if they had someone around who knew what they're up against," Janeway suggested.

"I have never been responsible for children. Mr. Neelix would be a wiser choice."

Janeway beamed wickedly. "From what I've seen, you're the one they've established the bond with. They'll be looking to you for guidance."

Seven knew she had little choice. "Perhaps I could...help them avoid some of the obstacles I've encountered."

"Remember, I'll be here if you need me and so is the rest of the crew."

She nodded then left the ready room, her new charges were waiting in sick bay. Her recreational plans would have to wait. The children would need to be attended to, and if the young Norcadian girl, Mezoti, was any indication, they would have questions.

Half an hour later she had collected them, with what she considered to be remarkably little fuss from the Doctor. Other than a few assertions that he would be more than happy to assist her with her new family, citing the fine job he had done with her, they had escaped unscathed.

No sooner had they arrived at Cargo Bay 2 then questions started. "Do we have to regenerate now?" Seven was not surprised that it was Mezoti who had spoken.

"Yes," She confirmed. "But first," she held up four PADDs, and handed them out, "I was able to salvage your assimilation profiles. They include your names and some limited biographical data."

"Icheb. My name was Icheb." He continued to read the PADD.

"Your name is Icheb," Seven corrects.

"I remember now. It was my father's second name."

"My designation is Mezoti. It's a pretty name."

"Yes, it is...and it's all yours."

Seven looked at the enigmatic twins, stating their names aloud. "Azan and Rebi. I'll tell you more about them tomorrow." The twins nodded in response, still silent.

She watched them file orderly into their assigned alcoves.

"Computer, decrease ambient lighting by 60%." One by one, she could see them lock into sleep mode. "Good night." She passed through the door and stopped, obeying an impulse to look back. "Sweet dreams."

Seven didn't think she would be able to complete her assigned tasks within the allotted time. One assignment after the other conspired to take longer than the projected time interval. She was unused to halting her workday repeatedly, but Mezoti, Azan, Rebi and Icheb required constant monitoring. They also required adequate nutrition, sufficient periods of regeneration and recreation. She smiled. Today recreation would not be her responsibility.

Janeway had sent a message requesting recreational time, so dutifully, she had complied with the request: the four children would join the captain at the appointed time. All that remained was for her to successfully complete her tasks, log off duty and be out of Astrometrics before the Captain encountered her temporary playmates.

Even if she didn't finish in time, she was confident that she could avoid censure. Janeway had yet to honour her promise of assistance, today would merely serve as a reminder. She continued to work on the algorithm until finally the console lights changed from red to green. Finished.

"Computer, decrease ambient lighting." With that, she left Astrometrics and headed for deck nine section twelve.

Janeway put her mug back on the table, along with the PADD she'd been reading. 1620 hours. If she didn't want to be late, then it was time to go. She hadn't seen much of Seven during the last couple of weeks, duty and their new arrivals had kept them apart. Alpha shift had ended almost an hour ago, so for today, duty was discharged, and leisure time awaited.

She exited the ready room, nodded to the bridge crew an made straight for the turbolift. "Holodeck 2." The journey was over and the doors open before she had decided which program to run. It came down to a choice between inside or out; fresh air versus indoor splendour. She rounded the corner still pondering her options, then stopped.

A Brenali, two Wysanti and a Norcadian all in matching Velocity outfits stood in a prim row; tallest on the left, shortest on the right.

"Janeway to Seven of Nine."

"Seven of Nine is currently unavailable. Priority communications only."

She was about to snap off a request for a priority channel when she realized that the children were all watching her intently. Janeway cursed under her breath. It was her own fault. She was the one who had taught Seven that she didn't have to answer all hails when off-duty.

But more than that, she thought ruefully, she had said that she would assist with the children, and had failed to follow through. Janeway recognized payback when she saw it.

The children were still watching her, their calm regard somehow unsettling. Then Janeway realized it was because they were staring at her like miniature Sevens. Surely their expressions had to be innate: born of the collective. They hadn't been aboard Voyager long enough to pick up Seven's mannerisms - had they?

Her smile became mischievous. Two could play the payback game, and maybe it was time for a little chaos in the order.

B'Elanna entered her quarters and began to strip out of her grimy uniform, glad that her shift was finally over. It wasn't until she'd tugged the tank top over her head that she noticed the candles. She smiled. This time they were lit.

"Seven?" she called out, but got no response. When she entered the bedroom, she saw why. On the bed, face-up and fully clothed, Seven lay sleeping. She debated whether or not wake the other woman but before she could decide, blue eyes fluttered open and Seven sat up.

B'Elanna became concerned, Seven looked wrecked. "Are you okay?"

"No. I am not."

She was so used to getting an "I am functioning within normal parameters," as a response that it took her a minute to respond. "What's wrong?"

"I cannot do this."

"This?" B'Elanna hoped she didn't mean their relationship. She sat down on the bed next to Seven, landing heavily. The candles indicated otherwise, but with Seven, you never knew. "Clarify."

"The children. I cannot provide adequate supervision for them, perform my duties and incorporate recreation. It is impossible."

"Nothing is impossible." She planted a chaste kiss on Seven's temple. "We'll figure out something, and maybe Sam can help - she had to do a lot of adjusting after Naomi was born. Besides, you're here aren't you?" B'Elanna followed the words with another kiss.

Seven returned the kiss then pulled away. "You will assist me?"

"Yes." She gathered Seven in and gently leaned back until they were both reclining on the bed. Seven relaxed into her and B'Elanna smiled. She began to trace small circles and spiral paths along Seven's back. They hadn't had more than a few moments together since Seven had attained instant parenthood and she was very much just enjoying the weight of Seven tucked against her. "Where is your little collective anyway?"

"Captain Janeway suggested I could use a little recreation. I concurred."

"You got Kathryn to baby-sit?"

Seven shook her head. B'Elanna felt her eyes widen and she stifled the shocked laugh that threatened to break free. "Oh Kahless no! You didn't!"

"I sent Mezoti, Rebi, Azan and Icheb in my place. I believe they are playing Velocity."

"You may finally get punished for your insubordinate behaviour over this one, babe."

"That is unlikely, but in the event I am punished, I calculated a ninety-eight point six percent chance that she will merely confine me to the Cargo Bay."

B'Elanna didn't want to know what possibilities fell under the remaining one point four percent. Besides, if this were the last time she was going to see Seven in private for a while, she was going to make the most of it. "I'll come visit you - even if it's in the Brig." She did her best leer.

"Promise?" Seven had rolled over and was now pinning her to the bed.

She reached up and tangled her fingers in Seven's hair, pulling her head down. "Oh yeah, you can count on it."

The first thing Seven noticed when she entered the Cargo Bay was that all four children were regenerating. The second thing she noticed was a blinking red light on her console. One quick touch of a button and the message displayed. She was not surprised to find it was from Captain Janeway.

Smiling slightly to herself, she tapped out her customary return message. Acceptable.

Seven's reply showed on the console and Kathryn smiled to herself. Acceptable, indeed.

For the second day in a row, B'Elanna entered her quarters to find that Seven was already there. PADDs were stacked next to her in neat piles that probably formed an intricate pattern; to B'Elanna it just looked like a lot of work.

Tired from a long day spent in the exacting task of tracing capacitance flux in the primary relays, she was about to ask Seven what the hell she was doing in her quarters, when Seven spotted her. And smiled.

Not the tiny lift of lips nor the barely perceptible rise of an ocular implant, but a genuine smile - one that spread from Seven's mouth to her eyes. Even her body language changed, the PADDs forgotten as her body, along with her attention shifted to focus on B'Elanna.

To B'Elanna, it felt as though as far as Seven was concerned, she was the only other person currently in existence. No one had ever made her feel like that. Then she realized that she always felt that way with Seven. Felt noticed; felt that her existence was real, and solid; that she was important. Another epiphany struck. That's why she kept turning Tom down, side stepping his vigourous attempts at reconciliation. Once he had won her, his attention had shifted to other things; Harry, the Holo-deck, the Delta Flyer, then finally Alice and the end of their relationship.

So, instead of taking out the day's frustrations on an unsuspecting Seven, she smiled. "Hi."

It only took a second to drop to her knees in front of where Seven sat, almost primly, on the couch. She wanted to touch every inch of Seven. Needed to feel the warmth of Seven's skin and implants under her own. Her lips sought Seven's and she was vaguely aware of the sounds the PADDs made clattering to the floor as she drew her lover off of the couch.

Somehow, B'Elanna gathered Seven's taller frame around her own and lifted them both from the floor. Then as if they had been conveyed by the transporter, the bed was under them, resisting their weight just enough to give B'Elanna the purchase she needed to support her own weight while grabbing the neckline of Seven's bio-suit.

It came apart easily in her hand. The sound of material ripping mixed with Seven's increasingly passionate moans, and B'Elanna felt her blood sing in response. She held nothing back, pouring everything she was into every touch, every kiss. Seven absorbed it all; reflecting it back until B'Elanna thought that the mere promise of the moments yet to come was more ecstasy than she had ever thought possible. Then Seven was saying her name, softening the first syllable, drawing out the rest and the reality dwarfed the promise as the moment sped out of control, carrying them both with it.

And again they came together, each striving to touch every inch of the other until B'Elanna didn't know where she ended and Seven began. Mesh covered flesh danced across her back and she arched into Seven's touch, forcing their hips together, sparking a new wave of movement.

Her senses were splintered, the old reality lay fractured and she would never be the same.

She had fallen in love with Seven of Nine.

B'Elanna was surprised when Seven rose from the bed, and began to make ready to leave. She remained in the bed, unwilling to let go of the last lingering traces of their lovemaking. The sheets were beginning to cool off and she burrowed deeper, trying to maintain the illusion that she was not alone. "Stay."

"I cannot. I have a previous engagement." Seven had exited the shower and was slipping into something she had gotten from the replicator.

If it had been Tom speaking, B'Elanna would have felt used, angry, instead she felt languid, almost indulgent.

"Accompany me."

B'Elanna looked closely at Seven. "You're serious."

"Yes."

What the hell. She got out of the bed and crossed the small room, pausing only to place a gentle kiss on one of Seven's still exposed shoulders before ducking into the ensuite. A couple of minutes later she was finished, a couple more and she had rejoined Seven in the bedroom. The blonde had finished dressing and was gathering her hair into one hand, preparing to return it to its austere bun.

B'Elanna raised her own hand and stopped the process. "I'll go with you on one condition."

She enjoyed the small smile that played over Seven's lips before she responded. "Elaborate."

"Leave your hair down." B'Elanna realized that she was taking a chance that they were not headed for a lab or some other project of Seven's.

"Acceptable." The words still hadn't changed a great deal, but B'Elanna was intrigued by how much Seven was able to impart with four syllables.

"Where are we going anyway?"

"The Captain's quarters. I am required to pay the babysitter."

Suddenly B'Elanna thought better of agreeing to accompany Seven, but knew she wouldn't be able to back out. "If that's anything like paying the piper, you're in trouble, babe."

"Babe?"

It wasn't the first time she'd used the word and B'Elanna had wondered when Seven was going to get around to asking about it. "An affectionate designation, generally applied only to very attractive women."

Seven's eyes widened, then her lips curved upward, in wonder. "I thought you did not like me."

B'Elanna swallowed nervously. She wrapped both arms around Seven's waist, pulling the taller woman closer. "You thought wrong. I like you very much." A Borg-like phrase came to mind. "Your presence is necessary for my continued existence."

For the second time in as many minutes, B'Elanna saw Seven react with surprise and realized that they had never discussed the direction their relationship was taking. She'd assumed that Seven knew that they'd moved way past like, into whole new territory.

The smile Seven finally presented was dazzling and the single word response astounded B'Elanna. "Acceptable." A brief pause gave B'Elanna time to regain control of her breathing, then Seven lowered the boom. "Babe."

In seconds, she had maneuvered Seven onto the bed. Each of them vied for supremacy as fingers reached for catches. It was Seven who finally pulled away. "We will be late."

The only proper response to that was a frustrated growl.

Kathryn sat observing her dinner guests. B'Elanna's presence had been unexpected, but was not unwelcome. She watched as the Klingon finished refilling Seven's glass, the two of them now framed in the same light, and was struck by how extraordinary a pair they made.

Seven had turned her body slightly toward's B'Elanna, and B'Elanna's hand had lingered on the table near Seven's, then brushed across mesh-covered fingertips before dropping back down out of sight. Kathryn's eyes widened. They are a pair. It was then that B'Elanna looked up and their eyes met.

Kathryn raised a brow then shifted her gaze to Seven. The small shrug B'Elanna gave in response answered her silent question. Partially frozen by the revelation, she did her best to smile fondly at B'Elanna.

So many of Seven's recent questions made sense.

The awkwardness passed as the evening wore on, and by the time they retired to the living room, she had relaxed, recognizing that B'Elanna wasn't a threat to her friendship with Seven. The complex ties that bound the three of them were merely shifting again.

She took the overstuffed chair to the right of the couch and waited, amused, to see how the other two would seat themselves.

B'Elanna sat on the couch not quite leaving enough room for Seven to sit without bringing their bodies into contact. Seven stood for a moment as though evaluating her options. To Kathryn's surprise, Seven folded her lithe form and chose the floor, back against the couch, B'Elanna's legs to her right, Kathryn's to her left.

"We should do the more often, Kate." B'Elanna stretched her legs out slightly, bringing them into contact with Seven's shoulder as she spoke. Seven didn't move and Kathryn wondered how long it would be before the two younger women escalated their relationship. Knowing Seven, not long.

"Here, here." Kathryn responded aloud, keeping her speculation to herself. Inwardly she was smiling as she realized that for once, she'd get the better of Seven in the philosophical discussion they were sure to have later.

"Why does Lieutenant Torres, shorten your designation?"

Caught off-guard, Kathryn couldn't think of a suitable reply, so she looked over the blonde head to B'Elanna, passing between them in the second that it took the Klingon to reply. "Because I like her and she didn't tell me not to."

"And I allow it, because I like her and she knows not to do it on the Bridge."

Seven appeared to be mulling over their responses, her brow was furrowed slightly and her posture had stiffened, though she didn't comment. The lack of comment was so unusual that Kathryn wished she knew what was going through Seven's head, and decided to move the conversation forward. "Maybe a holo-novel?"

B'Elanna's eyes lit up. "Umm, yeah. Something dark and angsty. Gothic maybe."

Kathryn noticed that B'Elanna was lightly stoking the implant below Seven's right ear, fingers occasionally tangling in the loose blonde hair. She didn't fail to notice that Seven seemed to have relaxed again, though the furrowed brow had yet to smooth out. Stretching to try and find more room for her legs, she was surprised when Seven solved the problem by guiding Janeway's legs onto her own outstretched ones.

"What about you, Seven? What would you like to do?"

"I wish to initiate a menagé a trois." Seven's words hung in the air for an instant.

"What!" B'Elanna yelled and had somehow managed to stand without Kathryn noticing.

Seven spoke again. "My altered schedule reduces my availability for recreation." The ex-drone had risen and was facing B'Elanna. "I am unwilling to terminate our relationship and I still require the Captain's assistance understanding human --"

The sentence registered. Oh my God. "Seven," she growled, but it was like trying to stop a warp core breach. Containment became the best she could hope for, as she was ignored.

"-- copulation. Therefore would be more efficient to combine our activities."

B'Elanna looked as if she had been struck. "You're fucking the Captain?"

It was Seven's turn to flinch, then all hope of containment washed away. "We have copulated, yes."

That broke the spell. "Seven. That's enough!"

"Damn right." Then B'Elanna was gone, the silence left behind far louder than any words could be yelled.

continued

Back to Cargo Bay Seven