Author: Trek_in_Tandem
Archiving: With permission, please.
Author’s Notes: This story begins immediately after Seven takes her first shot in the second game of velocity at
the end of “Hope and Fear,” which is one of my favorite episodes. To quote the final conversation, as I do
below, I relied on Jim Wright's review of the episode. His site was, as
always, an invaluable resource. If your
memory of “Hope and Fear” is hazy, I recommend reading Jim’s review; I recommend
him for all your episode needs. His
reviews include comprehensive accounts of the episodes and are often
laugh-out-loud funny.
Propriety and Desire
“Nice
play. You almost had me.”
“Almost.”
“Go
again?”
“I
must report to the Astrometrics lab. There is work to
be done.”
“Work? I gave
the crew strict orders to take some R&R over the next few days, and that
includes you.”
“There
are more pressing needs. I am attempting
to design another method of traveling at slipstream velocities without damaging
Voyager.”
“I
thought that was impossible.”
“Impossible is a word that humans use far
too often. I wish to continue my
efforts.”
“A
few days ago you were ready to abandon ship and, here you are, practically
laying in a course to Earth.”
“As we approached Borg space, I began to
reevaluate my future. The prospect of becoming a drone was unappealing.”
“Sometimes
yo’'ve got to look back in order to move
forward. Sounds to me
like you’re starting to embrace your humanity.”
“No . . . but, as I said, nothing is impossible.”
“Computer, one more game.”
Kathryn Janeway and Seven of Nine, “Hope and Fear”
I. One More Game
Still tracking the velocity disk as it changed from blue to red and careened away from her, Seven shot a glance at her opponent. “In fact, it is possible that I may even beat you this time, Captain.” The disk smacked into the far wall and hurtled off towards the side of the court opposite from where Janeway stood.
Janeway snorted in amusement, the potential laughter subsumed as she bounded across the court, going after the disk before it could strike the wall. One more impact and the point would go to Seven. She threw herself forward, twisting in midair to avoid contact with the disk. It sailed over her shoulder.
Even as she hit the deck and steadily brought her phaser to bear, she was filled with a fierce joy. Glad she’d convinced Seven to play another game, amused and surprised at another display of Seven’s humor, pleased at Seven’s developing perspective on competition, and plain grateful to have an outlet for her energy at last.
She fired, clipping the disk so that it angled straight towards Seven of Nine.
By the time they’d dealt with Arturis,
made it back to Voyager, and gone through the routine visit to sickbay and
debriefings with the senior officers, it was well into ship’s night. Janeway had gone back to her quarters to rest
before alpha shift, but she hadn’t been able to sleep.
Seven had assured her nine months that she would not attempt to contact the Borg again. In those months, she’d become a productive member of the crew, providing them with invaluable information gleaned from the Collective. They’d all benefited from her expertise. She’d uncovered the alien scientists experimenting on the crew. She’d even helped destroy Omega, despite her own wishes—her own need. Yes, she’d argued that they should attempt to stabilize the particle, but, when the time came, she’d followed orders. Janeway trusted her—she’d been inclined to trust all along, true, but Seven had proven herself worthy of it. Even when Seven disobeyed orders, it was for the good of the ship and crew—if not the higher Good. The captain had even felt confident leaving her ship and crew in Seven’s hands for the recent journey through the Mutara-class nebula. And Seven had kept her word all these months, hadn’t attempted to contact the Borg. But this had been different. An opportunity to rejoin the Collective presented on a silver platter and Seven had declined. Hell, she’d slammed the platter into Arturis’ face.
Taken in light of Seven’s fears about Earth, the extent of which Janeway had only seen during the encounter with Arturis, it was all the more remarkable. And then there was Seven’s gallows humor—utterly unexpected. What a wonderful sign of Seven’s individuality, the unique woman she’d become. Had always been really. Even newly severed from the Collective, Seven had been ferocious, fierce in her right to make her own choice, passionate in her desire.
And when the time had come, the decision at last her own, Seven had chosen individuality, despite her fears.
Janeway never had calmed down enough to sleep, but it hardly mattered since the deprivation didn’t catch up with her during her shift. In fact, she’d been on edge all day. Even the workout that was velocity with Seven of Nine hadn’t worn away the wild energy bubbling inside her. So she was delighted to convince Seven to go again. And now Seven was making jokes about beating her. Apparently she had taken to heart her advice that it was all in fun. Kathryn suddenly grinned fiercely.
There was the velocity disk hurtling toward her. There was Seven of Nine, quirking her brow at her sudden smile. Life was good. She turned away from Seven, taking aim.
“There’s possible,” she murmured. She fired and the disk angled off in a new direction. “And then there’s probable.”
Seven lunged after the disk. “I am the physically superior opponent. I have greater stamina—” She wasn’t even winded, speaking evenly despite the exertion. She paused as she fired and Janeway interjected.
“And visual acuity. Don’t forget superior visual acuity.” She whirled to track the new vector of the disk.
“I have not. The probability, Captain, is that I will defeat you.”
Janeway grinned again. “Statistics,” she noted dismissively as she took her shot. “You shouldn’t give them too much credence, Seven.” She spun back to Seven, admired the young woman’s form as she tracked the disk with her phaser and fired.
Kathryn fired as soon as the disk turned red. “I never do.”
Seven shot a look her way, turning just in time to fire at the disk as it bounced off the wall and came at her. “You are a scientist, yet you do not value statistics? Explain.”
Kathryn shook her head and chuckled. “Later!” she gasped as she dodged the incoming disk and fired again.
Seven tilted her head and Janeway imagined her thinking You started it. Then Seven’s attention was on the disk. “You are small,” she reported conversationally as she fired. The disk smacked into the bulkhead and ricocheted straight toward Seven’s position.
“Yes,” Janeway agreed, nudging Seven aside with her shoulder to take her shot. She was quite aware that Seven’s words didn’t carry the same bite they once had. Seven was teasing her. Janeway pursed her lips. Time to end this volley. She made the shot so that the disk hurtled toward Seven on the shortest angle and at the greatest possible velocity. Seven couldn’t get enough distance in time to fire. The disk smacked into her shoulder.
“Point to Janeway. The score is 1 to 0.”
Seven dropped her arms to her sides and eyed Janeway. “I will defeat you, Captain.”
Janeway wiped her forehead with the back of her weapon hand and blew the hair out of her face. She put her hands on her hips and breathed.
“I am younger—and I am Borg,” Seven said, eyes sparkling. She seemed lit from within, so animated were
her features.
“Oh,” Janeway chided. “Bringing up my age? Well, just remember that I was playing this game while you were still in cybernetic diapers.”
Seven cocked her head. “The Borg have no need of diapers.” Kathryn laughed, caught off guard by the arch tone. “Probability is on my side. I will eventually defeat you.”
Kathryn held up a finger. “Ah—eventually.” She grinned and dropped into a shooting stance as the disk appeared. “Maybe. But not today!”
II. Command and Friendship
“Final point, Seven of Nine. Round to Seven of Nine. The score is 4-3, Janeway.”
Janeway was currently slugging back water. She offered the bottle to Seven and smirked at her when she accepted it. “Thirst is relevant, hm?” She grabbed her towel and wiped her hands.
Seven frowned at her. “I have won two consecutive rounds. You are tiring.”
“Or am I lulling you into a false sense of security so you’ll let up in the final rounds?” Seven blinked at her and Janeway grinned. “I told you there’s more to this game than stamina and visual acuity.”
Seven arched her brow. “A game of wits,” she said as she set the water bottle down, repeating the phrase Janeway had used after their last game.
Kathryn tossed her towel down beside the water. “It’s true,” she said. “Velocity is a game of strategy, of tactics both immediate—Do I gamble that if I send the disk right for you on this shot, you won’t be able to react before it hits you? And long-term—Do I send you running across the court after the disk with my shot, hope to wear you down?” One arm swept out to indicate the far side of the court.
“Any hopes you harbor of ‘wearing me down’ are futile.” Seven took up position in the center of the court.
Janeway headed onto the court. “Yes, yes, I know.”
Seven interrupted before she could say more. “Do you require more conversation so that you may further recover or shall we proceed?”
“Computer!” Janeway called in response, with a mock glare at Seven. “Begin Round Eight.”
“I’m small,” she began conversationally, her eye on the disk as it appeared. She fired first, and the disk turned blue when her shot hit it and flew past Seven into the bulkhead. “I’m old and weak . . .”
“You are anything but old and weak,” Seven muttered darkly as she whirled to catch the ricocheting disk.
“But I’m winning.” Janeway finished, and then they both sprung into a flurry of motion. Kathryn found she was grinning even as she dropped onto one knee to return Seven’s latest volley. The restless energy she’d been channeling into physical exertion was back with a vengeance, coiling in her abdomen.
Oh, you liked that,
didn’t you? Compliments, Seven style.
“A strange yet indisputable fact,” Seven offered as she tracked the disk.
Janeway had to run to get her shot. She was only just slowing up when the disk turned blue and Seven stepped forward to fire, right into Janeway’s path. Janeway slammed into her, the impact not even causing Seven to stumble. But Janeway lost her balance and fell as Seven took her shot. Aim apparently thrown off, she missed. She turned and looked down at Janeway as the computer reported. “Point to Janeway. The score is 1-0.”
“Sorry,” Janeway said, trying to get her breath.
“Strategy?” Seven demanded pointedly, even as she extended her hand.
“An accident,” Janeway assured as she grasped the hand. Seven hauled her up without waiting for her to assist. Oh my . . . “Really. You okay?”
Seven smirked. “I am undamaged.”
“Right, right,” Kathryn muttered as she bent to retrieve her phaser. “How could little ole me injure the big strong Borg?”
“You did interfere with my aim. Perhaps,” she added musingly, “Your wits make you a challenging opponent after all.”
“Seven, it really was—” She broke off as the disk appeared and turned red. She jogged backward, putting space between herself and Seven before she fired.
“A joke, Captain,” Seven said before she had a chance to resume her apology. Seven took flawless aim and fired. “However, it must be true as you are indeed a challenge.”
Kathryn found herself smiling again as she tracked the disk. “Well, you need a challenge.”
Kathryn watched Seven run across
the court and throw herself forward, aiming on the fly. Beautiful.
Then the disk was hurtling toward her. She let it pass her. “C’mon,” she called as she spun and
fired. “You like a challenge as much as
I do!” She noted the new edge on the restless
feeling in her belly as her shot clipped the disk, sending it straight into the
bulkhead on her right, just as she’d intended.
The disk turned blue as it ricocheted off the wall. You’re
attracted to her, Kathryn! Well, that
was certainly not news, but . . . You’re practically flirting!
Janeway spun and took a few running steps, but she’d misjudged Seven. Instead of running for the disk, Seven had dropped to the deck, and she had not expected Janeway to suddenly run in this direction. Her shot caught Janeway in the back, just above her right hip—Seven had been firing upward. The impact flung her a few more steps in the direction she’d been moving, though her feet didn’t touch the floor. She was aware of Seven’s shocked “Captain!” Then she crashed into the deck and the breath rushed out of her lungs.
Seven had her by the shoulders before she had the presence of mind to do more than gasp for air. Seven rolled her onto her back. “Captain! Are you damaged?”
She sucked in a breath at last and looked up at Seven—a blur of cream and silver and glowing blonde hair floating above her. “You shot me,” she said, with no little amazement in her voice. She was dimly conscious of Seven’s hands prodding her rib cage. She gasped in another breath and blinked. “You shot me in the back.” Her voice was more substantial this time. The blur resolved into Seven’s face and the glow into an overhead light above Seven’s head. She squinted against the glare.
“I—I did not intend to. Are you injured?”
“I surrender,” Janeway muttered.
“Captain? Are you in pain, Captain?” She was in pain. Janeway’s mind cleared and she focused first on full lips in a drawn face, then on worried blue eyes.
“I’m okay,” she rasped. “The safeties are on. Just an impact.”
“It lifted you off your feet,” Seven exclaimed. She grasped Janeway’s left shoulder, the one she’d landed on, and felt her way towards her elbow. “I detect no broken bones, but I cannot be sure. And you may have internal injuries!” Her hands ran shakily over Janeway’s forearm.
“Seven, I’m fine,” Janeway insisted.
“Then why are you not moving?” Seven demanded. Why indeed? Janeway started to sit up and winced at the pain in her back. Seven immediately pressed her down again. “You are damaged! Lie still while I call the doctor.”
Janeway put a restraining hand on Seven’s arm. “No need to call in the doctor. I can walk to sickbay.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yeah,” Janeway grunted as she sat up. “Give me a hand.” Seven wrapped her arm around Janeway’s waist and lifted. The captain tried not to gasp as Seven touched her bruised back. “I’m afraid I’ll have to forfeit, though,” she said, trying for jovial through gritted teeth, as Seven balanced her on her feet. “You’ve beaten me after all.” She smiled weakly up at Seven.
“No.” Seven backed away. “I will not accept your forfeiture. You would have won fairly had I not injured you.”
Janeway held up a calming hand. “Don’t be so sure. You were giving me quite a challenge.” She smiled. “Now would you help me to sickbay?” She reached out to Seven. She wasn’t sure why she’d asked. Now that she was standing, she knew she could make it to sickbay on her own. If she had to, she could probably finish the game—not that it would be advisable. But if I had to—Kathryn grinned. Seven stepped to her side again and offered her arm and Janeway knew why she’d asked. She wanted to prevent the friendly mood of their game from being spoiled. She hadn’t liked Seven withdrawing from her, not at all. She rested her hand on Seven’s forearm, feeling absurdly as if she was off to her first formal. Seven’s arm didn’t offer any significant support, but Kathryn didn’t really need any after all. If it would make Seven feel better, she certainly had no objections to being escorted through the corridors on her arm. Not to mention how much she herself enjoyed the contact. They started toward the door. “Oh, would you grab our stuff, please?”
Seven left her side only reluctantly and was back within seconds, towels and water bottle bundled in one arm. “Computer, end program,” Seven called, taking Kathryn’s arm on her own initiative. Kathryn smiled her thanks.
Seven glanced away from that smile. “Captain, I’m sorry.”
“Oh, Seven, don’t be. It wasn’t even your fault. I ran in front of you.”
“I did not react fast enough.”
Janeway patted her nearest shoulder with the hand Seven wasn’t already holding. “Happens to the best of us,” she said lightly and twinkled at Seven until her frown faded slightly. “Nothing a hot bath wouldn’t fix. I’ll just have the doctor speed things up a bit.”
Seven looked dubious. “I was not aware of the medical applications of bathing.”
“Oh,” Kathryn said confidentially, “A proper bath has many healing properties. For the body and the spirit. When was the last time you relaxed in a hot tub and let all your cares melt away?” she teased.
They paused outside the turbolift and Seven looked down at her. “I have no memory of ‘relaxing in a hot tub,’ Captain. Perhaps I took baths as a child, but I do not remember.”
“Well, at least twenty years then! Far too long.” Janeway grinned and stepped forward as the turbolift doors opened. Seven moved quickly after her.
“Captain! Do you not require assistance?”
“Uhm,” Janeway began. Then she smiled. “Require? No. Appreciate, yes.” She looped her arm through Seven’s. “Deck five,” she ordered the ’lift and added off-handedly, “You should call me Kathryn when we’re off-duty. No need to stand on formality—after all, you have just shot me! I think I even remember surrendering.” She looked up at Seven with a crooked grin. “I guess that makes me your prisoner, hm?”
Seven looked at her askance, then her small smile curled her lips. “Are you on a first-name basis with everyone who takes a shot at you?”
“Oh, no,” Janeway drawled and pursed her lips. “I’d be on a first name basis with half the Delta Quadrant, wouldn’t I?” She chuckled and leaned into Seven, eyes dancing with amusement. “And no small part of the Alpha,” she added confidentially. “No. Only those who don’t miss.” She winked. “And of those, only my friends.”
She was pleased to see Seven’s smile widen just a trace before the doors opened. They stepped into the corridor. “Kathryn?” Seven said tentatively and Janeway looked back at her. Despite the hesitance, that had sounded very nice.
“Mhm?” Seven was wearing her puzzled face.
“Yesterday you said you cannot always be my friend. I did not understand at the time, and since we escaped assimilation . . .” She quirked an eyebrow and Janeway smiled, pleased that Seven’s humor could survive her confusion, as well as shooting her captain.
“Mhm,” she murmured. “I said I can’t always be your friend because I’m also your captain. Remember?”
“Of course.”
“Of course.” Janeway grinned and then turned serious. “I should have spoken more precisely, I guess—but I was under a little pressure.” She smiled briefly and realized they’d reached sickbay. “Could we put this on hold?” she said as they stepped inside. “Until I’m done here?”
Seven dipped her chin. “Your treatment is paramount, Cap—Kathryn?” She interrupted herself and turned the name into a question.
Kathryn smiled her approval. “It shouldn’t take long.” She patted Seven’s arm as the doctor walked out of his office.
“I thought I heard voices! Captain, Seven. What brings you by?” The EMH had immediately taken in the fact that both were moving under their own power and that there was no blood, burns, or protruding bones.
Janeway was momentarily speechless. She didn’t feel that ‘Seven shot me’ was quite the right thing to say. Seven was as efficient as always. “The captain is injured, Doctor.”
The doctor directed Janeway to a biobed with a hand on her elbow and turned to his instrument tray. “Give me a hand, please,” Janeway said. Seven reached her before the doctor could and promptly lifted her under her arms and set her gently on the bed. “Uhm, thanks,” a surprised Janeway murmured.
The doctor actually stopped for a moment to watch the astounding site of his captain meekly submitting to being moved around bodily. “What happened, Captain?” he asked as he stepped over with a tricorder.
“Uhm, we were playing velocity,” Janeway began.
“Mhm-hm,” he offered encouragingly, running the scanner over Janeway
“I shot her,” Seven said.
“Accidentally,” Janeway added hastily.
The doctor, however, was already speaking. “You shot her?” His head bobbed up over Janeway’s shoulder. He bustled out from behind the bed to stare at Seven.
“In the back,” Seven confirmed.
Janeway looked over at the doctor whose jaw had dropped
open. Suddenly, she found it all
hilarious. She cleared her throat. The doctor’s shocked face turned to her. “In the back,” she agreed with remarkable
poise. She glanced over at Seven who was now regarding the doctor with her usual
equanimity. Oh, God, this is too funny.
“You shot her in the back?” The doctor said in disbelief.
Seven turned her head and met Janeway’s eyes. “I did say I would betray you.”
Janeway’s mouth twitched. She hummed with concealed laughter for a moment and then gave up. Just as she had nearly recovered herself, she saw Seven’s shoulders shake slightly and it sent her into new peals of delight. Seven laughing! She threw her head back and slapped her thigh. The move was too abrupt for her sore muscles and she broke off with a gasp, hand going to her back, even as she chortled under her breath.
The doctor who had been staring between her and Seven jumped into action.
“It was an accident,” Janeway offered when she’d caught her breath. “I got in the way as Seven fired. The safeties were on, so I only took an impact.”
“It must have been very near point-blank range,” the doctor mused as he studied the readings.
“It was,” Seven said solemnly and moved closer. Janeway reached out and squeezed her hand. Her eyes were still shining with merriment and Seven’s mood lifted.
The doctor was oblivious. “Does this open?” He tugged on the shoulder of her top. “If not, you’ll have to take if off,” he said apologetically. “Or I could cut it.”
Janeway raised her left arm and reached around with her right hand to the closure hidden in what appeared to be a seam. Seeing that, the doctor stepped forward, subtly positioning himself between Seven and the captain. He had been created to substitute for even a chief medical officer, after all—and the Starfleet consultants had insisted on thoroughness in Zimmermann’s program. The doctor had an innate sense of the need to preserve the captain’s dignity before the crew. In addition to his original programming, he’d come to respect Kathryn Janeway and the unique difficulties of her command. “Will you excuse us for a moment, Seven?”
Seven’s eyes darted from the doctor to Janeway. Janeway smiled at her even as she spoke to the doctor. “It’s all right. She can stay. In fact, she’s my moral support—right, Seven?” The doctor blinked at that. This was the captain, not Naomi Wildman. She might try to avoid treatment, but she’d never displayed any desire for hand-holding.
“Yes, Captain,” Seven said softly, moved. And the doctor realized it was Seven who needed the emotional support. She’d bonded with the captain more than anyone on the ship and accidentally shooting her—even on the holodeck with the safeties engaged—would surely be distressing.
“I’ll have you fixed up in no time, Captain,” he offered for Seven’s benefit and bustled over to get an instrument. “Something for the pain first?”
“No, thanks. It’s not bad.” Janeway started to shrug out of her top and grunted. She looked up at Seven with a frustrated gesture. “Would you mind?”
Seven stepped around the bed. She tugged gently to free the hem, which was pinned under the captain’s buttocks, and peeled the material away from Janeway’s back. Janeway heard a sharp intake of breath.
“Seven?”
“Oh, that’s already a nasty bruise,” the doctor remarked cheerfully as he came back to the bed. “You should see it, Captain. Now just hold that out of the way for me, Seven. I’ll see what I can do with the captain sitting up.” He contorted himself into what would have been a very uncomfortable position for a humanoid and ran the tissue regenerator over the area. Seven held Janeway’s top aside and stared at the black stain spreading over her captain’s skin. “How’s that, Captain?” the doctor asked after a few minutes.
Janeway flexed her muscles. “Better. I could lie down now.”
“Ah, very good.” He drew back and Janeway gingerly lowered herself onto her side and pulled her legs onto the bed. Seven quickly moved to hold the open shirt clear. Janeway rolled onto her stomach, making only a small noise at the discomfort.
“You have the makings of a decent nurse, Seven,” the doctor commented. “If you ever get tired of Astrometrics, let me know, hm?”
Janeway propped her cheek on folded arms and grinned up at Seven. Seven didn’t notice. She was frowning at Janeway’s back. Janeway shifted her chin into her palm and swatted Seven’s thigh with her other hand. “Nurse Seven?” she mouthed, arching her brow.
Seven only quirked a brow in response. What
happened to those darling smiles? Janeway thought. It can’t be that bad.
The EMH traded the regenerator for a tricorder and scanned Janeway’s back. “You may be a little tender, but the tissue damage is repaired.” He replaced the scanner and snapped the tricorder closed in satisfaction. He turned to Seven and added seriously, “You may close,” before breaking into a wide grin.
Seven looked at him dubiously, then eyed Janeway as the captain chuckled. The doctor gestured at the red fabric Seven was still clutching and she let go. “You know, close the incision . . .” Seven tilted her head. He waved it away as Janeway shifted and sat up, her shirt falling into place.
She arched her back and, satisfied, reached to fasten her top. “Much better, Doctor.”
“Doctor, what about the discoloration?” Seven said hesitantly.
“The bruising will fade by itself,” he told her gently. “I would have helped it along—but the captain usually has no patience for ‘superfluous’ treatment,” he added confidentially. He turned to the captain, holding up the appropriate instrument questioningly.
Janeway gave him a mock glare and hopped off the table. She spread her hands in a what-can-you-do gesture. “I’m already dressed.”
The doctor smiled. “A cold compress and a hot bath should help any lingering soreness.” Janeway shot a small smile Seven’s way and was pleased to see Seven’s smile return. “Oh, and try not to get in the way of any more phaser shots.”
Janeway gave him a half bow. “Thank you, Doctor. Goodnight.” She collected the gear Seven had left on a console and drew Seven after her with a light hand on her shoulder.
“Get some rest!” The doctor called in his sternest voice. So close. Janeway waved a hand over her shoulder in what might have been agreement.
Janeway paused in the corridor. “Would you join me in my quarters, Seven? We could finish talking.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Kathryn,” Janeway reminded, wanting Seven to know she was serious about that. She headed for the turbolift. When Seven fell into step with her, she flicked one of the towels against Seven’s abdomen. “Would you like to freshen up first?”
So the captain anticipated this might not be a short conversation. “Unnecessary—but what about your ‘hot bath?’”
“It can wait.” Kathryn glanced up at Seven. “Unless I’m too unpleasant to be around?”
“Being around you is not unpleasant.” Seven looked at her in confusion. Janeway smiled, ducking her head as she thumbed the panel outside the ’lift. Then realization dawned, and Janeway’s smile grew. “You are . . . presentable,” Seven corrected. “However, the doctor indicated that bathing would aid in your recovery.”
“Deck three,” Janeway ordered absently as they stepped into the ’lift. “What about our conversation?”
“I will wait while you bathe,” Seven declared.
Janeway snorted her amusement at the presumption. It certainly does sound . . . tempting, though. “I normally make a bath a lengthy affair.” Well that was about the most insincere protest ever made.
“Then you wish to postpone our discussion until another time?” That didn’t really sound like a question, Janeway mused. More like an ultimatum. Disappointed . . . but definitely an ultimatum.
She put her hands on her hips and turned to face Seven. “You’re going to be stubborn about this,
aren’t you?” Seven tilted her head and
regarded her steadily. Janeway smiled. “Well, if you really don’t mind waiting . . .
you could see how to prepare a proper bath.
You might want to try it sometime.”
What are you doing, Katie? She wants to understand the downfalls of
hierarchy and you—
But Seven had inclined her head in acceptance of the plan. “The doctor also suggested a cold compress. Do you have one?”
Janeway grinned at the abrupt query. Nurse Seven indeed. Seven clearly meant to take Janeway’s treatment in hand. “Afraid not, but—”
“What is the proper order of treatment?” Seven interrupted in a clinical manner. Janeway looked up sharply at the tone only to see the smile playing on her lips. She laughed in delight at this new playful side.
“Oh, Seven, this is by far the most fun phaser hit I’ve ever taken,” she said when she had recovered and then assumed a matching demeanor. “Well, technically, one should ice an injury as soon as possible after it occurs. It helps prevent bruising and swelling, you see. In the absence of a tissue regenerator, heat is most beneficial after the first forty-eight hours.” The turbolift opened onto deck three and Janeway stepped forward, an unconscious hand finding Seven’s arm as she continued her tutorial. “With a tissue regenerator, ice and heat therapy aren’t as important. Still, they can help—and, anyway, a hot bath is as much a treatment for the mind as for the body.”
“So you’ve said. If the bath may precede the compress, I will find the appropriate pattern and replicate it while you bathe.”
Janeway snapped out of the teasing game of clinician and student at that. Her eyes widened as her mind returned to the image of herself in the bath with Seven waiting outside. She was entirely out of sorts and it was high time to get herself back under control. She cleared her throat. “As I was going to say before, I don’t think the compress will even be necessary.” She paused as the doors to her quarters slid open at her presence and turned to Seven to add, “But thank you.”
Seven’s eyes flickered away at the sincerity in the captain’s voice and Janeway quickly stepped over the threshold. “Come on in. Something to drink?”
Seven followed as Janeway turned around for her response. She dipped her head—her version of a nod. “Allow me to prepare drinks while you bathe.”
“Ahh, but first,” Janeway reminded, holding up a finger, “I promised you a demonstration.” She felt her cheeks warm as she realized she was pushing the issue. And what an issue! She swallowed nervously—too late now—and waited for Seven to question the relevancy of her little “demonstration.” Or worse, point out the strange intimacy of the offer. Instead, she caught the flicker of interest in Seven’s eyes.
“Yes. Please proceed.”
Janeway cleared her throat again. “Right.” She turned bemusedly toward her bedroom, belatedly remembering to take Seven with her. “Come with me.” She crossed the room without really seeing it and reached the door of the ensuite to realize Seven was no longer behind her but standing in the middle of the bedroom, looking around with interest.
“Seven?”
Seven’s eyes shot to hers as she turned almost guiltily. “Pardon me, Captain. I have never been in sleeping quarters before,” she explained hastily.
Janeway felt the crack in her heart twinge painfully at that. “Of course. Well, please feel free to look around.” She came back into the room. “Not much to see, really.” Seven was intently surveying her surroundings, so Janeway wandered over to select clean clothes from a drawer, trying to ignore her how her heartbeat was beginning to race. She turned to find Seven standing before a display shelf next to the bed, hands linked behind her back. The sight did nothing to calm the anxious feeling in the pit of her stomach. Seven of Nine in her bedroom. No one had been in here since she took command of Voyager. She flashed briefly on Q in a nightcap. Well, that hardly counted. She took a deep breath, wishing she’d suggested they finish their velocity game. That restless energy was still thrumming through her, and Seven’s presence—now within her own private space—was not helping.
“What do you think?” she said, just to say something.
Seven turned and Janeway watched as she chose a reply. “Nice.”
It was not what Janeway had expected. “Um . . . thank you.” She walked over to Seven who had turned back to her examination, almost as if she couldn’t resist. “Questions?” Janeway invited.
“This is your . . . family?” The hesitancy was not surprising, but the gentleness of the question did manage to surprise the captain.
She stepped up and looked at the old-fashioned photographs that held Seven’s attention. “Yes.” She gestured to the picture on the left. “My mother and the dogs. That’s my dog, there.” A shot of Janeway on the grass with her arms around the neck of Molly Malone. “Mom and my sister at the dinner party Mom gave before I took command of Voyager. My father.” She touched a finger lightly to the official Starfleet portrait. “That’s us as children.” A small girl with white blonde hair squeezing a slightly taller strawberry blonde to her side. Each wore a sleeveless white party dress and held a melting ice cream cone. “My birthday. Right after the photo, she smashed her ice cream all over my dress. She didn’t like chocolate,” she added with a chuckle. “And she didn’t see why I got to choose just because it was my birthday. That one was taken the day I graduated.” She gestured to the last photograph, a beaming, uniformed Kathryn between her parents.
Seven looked between it and the photo of the girls. The captain was perhaps twenty years younger in the last . . . and perhaps that much younger again in the other. Seven did not have enough experience to estimate the girls’ ages.
“What are their names?” she asked reverently.
Kathryn’s voice was equally soft. She touched the photo of her mother with the dogs at her feet and then the one of her father. “Gretchen. Edward. And Pheobe.” She took down the photo of the children and looked at it fondly. Seven looked with her. As she studied it, she could discern the familiar features of her captain in the face of the little blonde.
“Pheobe is taller,” she ventured. “Is she the elder sibling?”
Kathryn hummed in amusement. “No, but my little sister has been taller since she was four—not long before this was taken, I really was the big sister.”
Seven carefully reached out a finger and placed it just beneath the small hand clutching Phoebe’s waist. “I see it,” she said softly, “Here. You hold her . . . tightly.”
Janeway looked up at Seven with a smile. The sharp edge was gone from her swirling emotions, which were now nothing but deeply sweet, quiet happiness tinged with something like longing. “Phoebe and I,” she began slowly, seeing a way she could perhaps clarify the comment made to Seven in the heat of the moment. “We weren’t always friends growing up. Didn’t even like each other sometimes. But I was always her big sister. Even when I was angry at her for spoiling my birthday dress. And I’ll always be her big sister.”
She watched carefully to judge if Seven understood the allusion behind her words. She didn’t have to rely on non-verbal communication though.
“As you must always be my captain—even when you don’t like me?”
“No, no—oh, Seven, I always like you,” Janeway said hastily, reaching out to grasp Seven’s arm. She tugged her over to the bed and perched on the edge, patting the coverlet beside her. Seven sat gingerly, a little unsure of the surface shifting with her weight, pulling the captain towards her. “And I’m proud to be your captain. When I said I can’t always be your friend, it was a figure of speech.” Janeway was kicking herself now for that casual imprecision. “I just meant that sometimes, because I’m your captain, I have to . . . act in ways demanded by that role instead of as I might prefer to act. I am always your friend, Seven.” She looked up at her quietly, willing her to believe, to understand. “What I was trying to say before is that if I’ve sometimes . . . seemed . . . distant . . . or harsh—if I ever gave you the impression that I . . . liked you any less, ever hurt you by being the captain instead of a friend . . . that I . . . I wish it could have been otherwise.” It was not an apology—not the apology she had wanted to offer—but then, it couldn’t be. She waited, hoping it was enough.
“I believe I understand, Captain.” Seven thought of the times Janeway had punished her . . . Janeway’s cold voice . . . Janeway walking away from her. The captain was saying that none of that had meant she didn’t like her, didn’t care. “Sometimes you have to act as my captain instead of my friend . . . but even when I disappoint and anger you, it does not preclude friendship.” Her voice rose with slight questioning at the end.
“Kathryn,” Janeway requested gently, briefly wondering what had happened to that eidetic memory. “And no, it doesn’t. Never,” she said emphatically. She placed her hand on top of Seven’s where they were clasped in her lap and eased her fingers beneath the top one to squeeze firmly.
She was rewarded with the soft look and slightly upturned lips that indicated Seven was pleased. After a moment of holding that gaze, Janeway swallowed hard. “I didn’t misspeak when I said that this is where you belong, Seven of Nine. I know you’re not always sure of that—if ever.” She snorted in soft amusement. “But you’re . . . you’re part of the family.” She saw Seven’s eyes glance over at the pictures on the shelf. “My family,” she said, confirming it to herself without really believing that was what Seven was thinking. That drew Seven’s eyes immediately back to her. “And . . . I’m glad you didn’t leave us.”
Seven glanced down at their hands and carefully turned her own over to return the captain’s grasp. “I do not think I shall consider doing so again, Kathryn.” Her eyes found the photographs again as Janeway squeezed her hand, unconsciously trying to communicate the joy she felt at those words—and at the simple sound of Seven voicing her name. “I had come to consider Voyager my new Collective . . . but I . . . like ‘family.’” She met the captain’s eyes shyly.
The moment was suddenly entirely too heavy for Janeway. She drew in a breath and leaned back. “Just remember who’s the big sister,” she cracked, but immediately felt the wrongness of the words. “Well maybe not the big sister,” she murmured. She let her posture shift toward Seven again, her mind suddenly filled with the thought of closing the final distance and—
“Protector, nonetheless,” Seven offered. “My captain and . . . my friend.”
“Yes . . . ” Janeway said absently. “That.” She brought her hand up to Seven’s cheek, needing to express and confirm with touch the connection they’d stated. “May I—Would you mind—?” She broke off and let her actions ask the question as she leaned in. When Seven obligingly shifted toward her, she turned Seven’s head to the side and, only narrowly avoiding Seven’s mouth despite her best intentions, pressed Seven into her kiss. Soft, smooth skin. The warmth of Seven’s body so near her own.
“Okay?” she murmured, her voice a breath in Seven’s ear.
She felt more than heard Seven draw a deep breath. There was a moment of silence. “‘Oh-kay,’ Kathryn.”
Janeway finally moved back out of the close warmth and looked into Seven’s eyes—for what she wasn’t sure. She couldn’t possibly expect to find a sign that Seven felt this, too—this heavy thing filling her chest. She couldn’t possibly expect that Seven would be ready for something like this and certainly not with her, with whom she’d only just established the existence of friendship. She hadn’t been an individual for even a year yet and—
“A kiss?” Seven said, not sounding especially surprised, only vaguely curious.
“Yes.” Janeway slid her hand up until her fingertips brushed the implant at Seven’s temple. There was no flinch this time. “A kiss.” She barely resisted bringing her lips to Seven’s. “To show my affection.”
“I enjoy kisses,” Seven reported, voice bright with discovery and fascination at this new foray into humanity. “They are often reciprocal gestures, aren’t they?”
“They are.” Kathryn
found her voice had deepened. She’s going to—!
Seven leaned toward her and she tilted her chin to offer her cheek. Seven’s lips tickled her skin, sending a shiver up her spine, and then pressed more firmly. Kathryn’s heart was racing again and she steadied her breathing with an effort. Seven lingered close, just as she herself had moments before.
“Okay?”
Janeway felt a smile slowly stretch her lips. “More than.” Seven moved away, saw her smile, and returned it. The fullest smile Janeway had ever seen on those lips.
“Will you do it again?” Seven asked in that same bright eager voice.
Oh God. She knew Seven wasn’t asking if the ritual would be repeated at some indeterminate future point; she wanted a repeat right now. Another trial, more data. “If you like.” But no further, Katie. Too far already . . .
But Janeway’s lips strayed closer to Seven’s mouth than she meant to allow and then she just couldn’t pull herself away. She turned her head slowly back and forth, nudging her nose against Seven’s cheek. Her hand had curled itself around Seven’s neck without her willing it. And then she was drawing her lips even closer to Seven’s, stomach fluttering deliciously. She laid a tiny kiss at the corner of her mouth and finally forced herself back, if only slightly.
Seven regarded her happily from much too close. “Do you—” Kathryn had to clear her throat. “You like that, hm?”
Seven nodded. “I want you to do it again.”
Janeway swallowed a groan into merely a strangled sound and
forced a little more space between them.
If she kept indulging Seven, she was going to cross the line—cross it
beyond all justification, anyway. She’d
definitely already stepped out of bounds.
“Seven, people don’t—don’t just . . . kiss repeatedly.”
Seven’s confusion showed plainly on her face. That information clearly did not match what she knew of kissing. “They don’t? Why not? It is . . . nice.”
“Nice”— again . . . it sure is, damn nice. Janeway was flustered. “Yes, but . . . it’s not . . . I mean, friends exchange kisses to show affection, but . . .” She trailed off, at a loss.
“Such a limitation seems irrational. Kissing is emotionally and physically pleasing. Why should we not engage in it for an extended period of time?”
“An extended—?” Kathryn blurted. Emotionally and physically? Physically?? Oh God. Breathe, woman. She certainly does not mean it that way. She groped for an explanation. “Friendly kisses demonstrate an emotional connection and provide emotional . . . er, pleasure, certainly, and they do feel . . . nice,” she managed, settling on Seven’s word. Then she finished in a mumble, “But the purely physical pleasure of kissing is generally limited to lovers.”
She could feel her cheeks burn and knew that this time the blush would be quite visible. Damnit. She forced her eyes up to meet Seven’s.
Seven’s expression was dark. “You are saying that I should not experience physical pleasure as a result of kissing you and receiving your kisses?”
Janeway shifted uncomfortably. “Not ‘should not.’ I’m not saying anything about should and shouldn’t—just—Seven,” she almost pleaded, “I’m—”
“My captain?” Seven interrupted.
“Yeah,” Janeway mumbled, wondering how she could possibly explain that her deepening feelings for Seven made this so much harder for her. How was she supposed to indulge Seven’s experiments with—God!—stimulation? Completely inappropriate role for a captain, sure, and impossible not to involve her heart.
Seven was working things out for herself. “It is acceptable to experience this pleasure from your ‘friendly kisses,’ but because you are my captain, you are not allowed to continue?”
Yeah, like that last kiss was just friendly! Janeway sighed heavily, knowing there was no choice but to bite the proverbial bullet. She stood up and paced away, ignoring the twinge in her back. “Seven, I care for you very much,” she said to the bulkhead. “As a friend, yes, but . . . increasingly . . . as time passes, as more than a mere friend.” She turned enough so that she could look sideways at Seven from a lowered face. “You’re becoming the most wonderful person. You’re . . . so important to me. I’m sorry but I just can’t indulge you in this . . . not without involving those feelings. You understand?” she prodded.
“That I’m your captain is only an added complication,” she added wryly and chuckled humorlessly.
Seven shifted as if to stand, but then thought better of it, remembering that Janeway was apparently more comfortable when she sat for their discussions. “Why should you not involve your feelings?” she asked with plain confusion. “You have always encouraged me to accept my feelings . . . to integrate them into my life.”
Janeway moved to stand over Seven and looked sadly down at her. “Because it will hurt me,” she said with brutal simplicity and Seven’s face crumpled. She hurried on. “You see, it will mean more to me than an experiment in physical pleasure. I will want more. More than you’re bargaining for. Not just physically, but emotionally. As much as I would enjoy it, it would eventually cause me pain. And you might be hurt as well, and I can’t allow that,” she finished firmly.
Seven looked down, awash in remorse. “I do not wish to cause you pain, Kathryn. You are not an experiment. You’re . . . important to me, as well. The most important—I feel . . . so much . . . I cannot . . . cannot find the words. Yet I want to feel more.”
Janeway sank heavily onto the bed next to Seven, floored by the declaration of affection. She put her arm around Seven’s shoulders, automatically offering comfort. “It’s okay, Seven.”
She sat staring at the floor in the silence, both of them out of words. She wanted to encourage Seven to find someone with whom she could explore such feelings. . . but who? How could she let anyone else be Seven’s guide, especially now, knowing what she knew? Who would she trust? Who would be as careful and patient . . . as I would be? Who else cares for her so much? And how can I give up this chance? She simply couldn’t; that’s all there was to it. And maybe that was all right.
Janeway straightened and looked at Seven. Seven turned to return the look.
“Seven . . . now that you know where I stand, maybe it’s enough . . . I don’t know if this is a good idea at all, but I do know that if you want to—to feel more,” she fumbled over the words. “I want to be the one to help you do that . . . Nothing in my life has given me more pleasure than being here to see you discover yourself these past months. I’ve had to introduce you to so many hard facts of individuality—I’d like to be able to give you one of the pleasurable aspects, too,” she finished softly.
Seven’s response was immediate. “There is no one else with whom I would choose to pursue this feeling.” Her voice grew quieter. “There is no one else who makes me feel it.”
The captain drew a shaky breath, overwhelmed—once more—by the simplicity and utter sincerity of that quiet declaration. She raised a trembling hand, slowly, to once again cup Seven’s cheek.
After a long moment, Seven decided Janeway required something from her in order to proceed. Ah, it was her turn to reciprocate. She leaned in, now carefully noting every detail of this exchange—like how Kathryn’s eyes were dilated in the low light, how she breathed shallowly through parted lips.
Janeway’s breath came a bit faster as she realized Seven was moving to kiss her—To kiss me! She felt the familiar jolt of adrenaline in her gut even as she reflexively tilted her head to accommodate the angle of Seven’s. Then Seven’s lips pressed lightly against her skin, just above her jaw, and at the same time she felt Seven’s hand brush over the juncture of her shoulder and slip under her hair to her neck, mimicking her earlier gesture. Though she had only just touched Seven exactly like that, this touch felt intensely intimate. And erotic.
Seven kissed her cheek and without breaking contact trailed her lips towards Kathryn’s mouth. Janeway leaned into the caress, her body sinking toward Seven, and brought her hands up to lightly grip Seven’s arms. Seven’s bare arms—she remembered as her fingers stroked the smooth skin and played over the implant in her right bicep. This too felt wildly erotic, more so since Seven so rarely wore short sleeves. Touching her naked arms was too much like touching her intimately. The urge to turn her head—she’d hardly have to move at all—and bring her mouth to Seven’s was almost overpowering. That desire held Janeway suspended until the moment when she expected Seven to pull away. Instead, the hand at her neck urged her head back and Seven’s mouth moved softly down to her jaw. Janeway made a low sound in her throat and unconsciously tilted her head further back, wanting those lips to move down to that spot just beneath—there!
“Oh God,” Janeway said aloud and pulled Seven closer, embracing her with one arm as the other hand moved encouragingly to the blonde head.
Seven pulled back and looked at her questioningly. She had moved back only enough to see Kathryn’s face, to seek the cause of her comment. She remained snuggled in Kathryn’s arm and her fingers continued their tiny motions in her hair, now rubbing the strands between her fingers as if examining the texture. Janeway let her own fingers slip down to the nape of Seven’s neck as she noted the sparkling animation in the curious eyes. Seven liked this. Seven had only stopped because she’d spoken. Oh my. “It’s okay. That was . . . nice,” she assured huskily, trying to slow her breathing. She pressed Seven closer, an almost-hug, and brushed her thumb over Seven’s lips. “Very nice.”
Seven smiled.
God, she’s
beautiful.
Seven tilted her head, her brow rising slightly in that questioning expression Janeway knew so well. Thinking of what Kathryn had said earlier, she asked curiously, “Do you want more?”
YES, hell yes. All the reasons to cease and desist immediately began scrolling through her mind. How much longer could she let this go on? How much further? Not could—that would be all too easy—Should. And that was obvious, too, but already she was mentally negotiating some middle ground between propriety and desire. She lowered her head ruefully and answered honestly—apologetically. “Yes.”
She felt Seven shift, trying to see her eyes, and looked up. Seven looked . . . delighted.
“Good. I do too.”
Janeway’s eyes widened, her lips parting in amazement. What fantasy was this? Slowly, her astounded look transformed into a pleased smile. She quickly swooped in and kissed Seven’s cheek soundly. No lingering, no nuzzling. “There.”
Her eyes danced mischievously as she saw Seven’s expression darken. Disappointment. She waited to see what Seven would do or say. Seven gave an irritable shake of her head. “No. That is not more.” She eased her arm around Janeway and pulled her closer. “You said you would want more physically and emotionally. Let me provide it.”
Oh . . . Janeway exhaled slowly, shakily. She wants to provide it, oh my . . . Seven pressed her face to Kathryn’s, her lips barely brushing against her cheek in the process, pressing and rubbing their cheeks together, breath rushing tantalizing over Janeway’s ear. Supplication. Janeway began to move her head against Seven’s, unable to resist the urgent caress. As if we’re desperate for contact, she thought dazedly, the sensations and the thought sending a spike of arousal through her. “Tell me how,” Seven said, her low voice almost pleading. “Just . . . tell me.” The promise was evident.
Keeping her face against Seven’s, she turned her head. “Kiss me on the mouth,” Janeway rasped. And as soon as the words were out Seven’s lips pressed against hers. She made a sound that was half shock and half cut-off moan and then sucked in a sharp breath. Seven’s lips felt exquisite. Janeway held her head in place, keeping their mouths together as she kissed Seven once and then let her mouth open slightly so she could explore Seven’s lips individually with her own. Seven’s mouth began to move against hers and Janeway clutched her closer, finally letting their bodies meld together. When Janeway felt her kiss growing more intense, she pulled back, breathing hard. A delighted, amazed laugh rumbled in her chest and she quickly scooted out of Seven’s embrace. “We should stop.”
Seven’s glistening lips, moist and flush from their kiss, formed into a pout. “You have had enough?”
Janeway surged to her feet, hands clapping against her stomach and then pushing down over her hips and thighs. She laughed softly and shook her head sharply. “That’s just it. I can’t get enough of you.”
She was rewarded with a full-blown grin that made her stomach leap. She was drawn back to Seven irresistibly. “You’re beautiful . . .” She took Seven’s face in her hands and the younger woman shyly moved her eyes away, shaking her head once in denial. Janeway nodded her own head. “Gorgeous . . . exquisite.” She nuzzled her cheek briefly, the gesture awash in eroticism. Janeway couldn’t recall ever being so turned on—certainly not from a few simple touches and kisses. “You’re making me crazy,” she groaned. “I need some time, all right?”
She pulled back and found Seven blushing—two points of color high on her cheeks. She smiled. “You are beautiful. Now get out of my bedroom.” The smile became a grin.
“Yes, ma’am,” Seven breathed, emphasizing the final word playfully. Janeway was quite certain Seven had never said ma’am or sir to anyone in her adult life. It made her want to crawl onto Seven’s lap and push her back on the bed and devour her. Instead she stepped back and gestured to the door. “I’m going to take a bath while you fix those drinks you promised me.” She smiled. “Fix some dinner too, if you want, and we can eat together.”
Seven looked more like her usual self, but there was a strong hint of pleasure around the mouth and in her eyes. “You were going to show me how to prepare a bath,” she reminded.
Janeway laughed again. “Later!” She headed for the bathroom, shaking her head, knowing if she didn’t get Seven out of her immediate vicinity for a few minutes that she was going to lose her mind and take her to bed—or at least take her as far as she was willing to go. Suddenly riding high, she reached out and gently slapped Seven’s bottom with the back of her hand as she passed. “Now get out of here.”
Seven jumped and gave a soft cry of surprise, but she recovered quickly. She turned to look after Kathryn’s retreating form. “Fine.”
Janeway had reached the door and felt confident enough with the distance between them to turn around. She was wearing a wicked smile as she paused and leaned against the door frame.
“But later I will insist upon it,” Seven finished.
Janeway’s smile grew and she shook her head. Feeling twenty-years younger, she playfully blew Seven a kiss and ducked into the en suite. So will I, Seven. So will I. On many things.