Delta of Voyager
 

“What the hell are you talking about, Seven?” Torres peered at the woman in confusion. “Kathryn didn’t say ...“ she looked around and lowered her voice slightly as they walked, to make sure no one was within earshot. “Kathryn didn’t say anything about canceling our ‘party’ tonight. At least not to me.”

“It was not an official cancellation. She merely intimated that she was tired and would be unable or unwilling to participate to our mutual satisfaction. I took this to mean that she was canceling the engagement.”

“Do me a favor and don’t say ‘engagement’. And do you *have* to walk so fast?”

“My apologies.” Seven slowed her pace down the corridor. “ Was I incorrect in making this assumption about the Captain’s plans?”

Torres sighed heavily. “I have no idea ... but I intend to find out. I’ll call you after my shift.”

“Very well. I will be in astrometrics.” They entered the turbolift, and gave the computer their respective destinations. “Do you believe Captain Janeway is growing ... bored with our arrangement?”

“It’s possible. You know how running this ship has eaten at her ... sometimes I’m not surprised how she reacts to little things, after worrying so much about the important stuff.”

“I have noticed that. She berated me at length three days ago on the state of my attire. It was decidedly uncomfortable.”

“Yeah well,” Torres reached around and patted Seven on the behind, “I think those jumpsuits are just getting tighter and tighter. Not that I mind. Have you been cleaning them on too warm a setting.”

“No. The fiber is Borg. It does not shrink. I am merely endeavoring to make my appearance more ... satisfactory to the Captain. “

Torres smiled. “Well, I’m sure it is satisfactory to her. You look good, that’s a fact.”

“I am aware of that. Whether or not ‘good’ is good enough I am unsure.” Seven stated matter-of-factly.

Torres pushed the halt button. “Maybe we should arrange something special for Kathryn ...”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know, let me think about it. Maybe something on the holodeck ... maybe a change of venue would be good ... always been locked away in that tiny little bedroom ... and that mattress is getting lumpy, I don’t care what she says.”

“I have noticed minor imperfections in the surface of the bed. It can be very distressing.”

“Especially that one spring ...“

“At the lower left corner, three rows up, two in. I know it.”

They stood for a moment. “Well,” Torres hit the resume button, and the turbolift continued on it’s way to engineering “I’ll think of something. And maybe we can pool some replicator rations and get a new mattress.”

“Perhaps a larger bedding unit would be in order.”

Torres smiled, and patted Seven on the behind again. “I like the way you think.”

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“Come in, B’Elanna.” Janeway was poring over sensor reports of the region of space they had just entered, having passed through the void. “I’m trying to decide whether our first stop should be for food supplies or minerals.”

“Anything that gets our feet on dry land.” B’Elanna sat heavily on the ready room couch. “Why don’t you come over here so we can talk?”

Kathryn looked up from the computer screen. “Sounds serious ...” she smiled, and joined Torres on the couch. “What’s up?”

“I was just talking to Seven ...”

“And she told you that I was thinking of canceling our date.”

“Something like that.” Torres said, gathering her legs up under her Indian style, facing Janeway. “What’s the deal?”

“I’m just exhausted ...“

“You know how important this is to me ... after the void.” Torres objected, and Kathryn took her hand.

“I know, B’Elanna, I know. I wasn’t very good company ... even when I *was* home. But I promise to make it up to you. “

“When?”

“Well ... I don’t know ... when ...”

“I’ll tell you when. Tomorrow night. You are going to get a good night’s rest tonight, and tomorrow don’t work more than eight hours, and then I’ll set up something special for you.” It was phrased and spoken as an order.

Kathryn grinned. “Yes Captain.”

“Don’t give me that ‘yes, captain’ or ‘yes, ma’am’ crap, you ...” B’Elanna grinned.

“Something special.”

“Don’t ask, because I don’t know yet. I’ll get Seven to help me.”

“Oh, now I know I’m in trouble.” Kathryn leaned in to place a kiss on B’Elanna’s serious lips.

“Damn right.”

-------------------------------

“Whatcha workin on?”

“None of your business, Tom.” B’Elanna swiveled the screen around so she was sure Paris couldn’t see it. That wouldn’t do at all. He was already insufferable.

“Sorr-ee!” Tom plopped himself down opposite from her at the mess hall table, and sipped his .. whatever the hell it was. Did she smell alcohol? At this hour?

“I’m a little busy here, Captain Proton. Go play with Harry.”

“I can see that you’re busy. I wanted to ask you something.”

B’Elanna sighed, and closed her laptop. “What?”

“What’s up with Janeway?”

“None of your business?” she retorted, rolling her eyes.

“It’s just that since we’ve been out of the void, she hasn’t gotten back to her normal ... you know, Captain self. “

“Tom, you wouldn’t last two hours under the pressure of having to Captain this ship ... especially if you had to deal with a smart-ass helmboy who thinks he’s god’s gift to Starfleet and women everywhere.”

“Well, excuse me for showing a little concern for my fellow crew members. You can get back to work now.” He rose quickly from the table.

“Tom ...”

“What?”

“ ...I’m sorry. Look, the Captain’s just tired, okay? And so am I. I’m sorry I bit your head off.” She said, as contritely as possible.

“S’okay ... when you act like that, I just figure it’s your Klingon showing.“ He winked, and took another sip of his drink.

“By the way, what the hell are you drinking?!”

“Not sure exactly ... something Neelix concocted from some damn root or another. It’s awful.”

“Smells awful. Like stale blood wine.”

“*That’s* what it was reminding me of. Couldn’t quite place it ... hey Neelix!” Tom moved over to the kitchenette.

--------------------------

“So what do you think?” Torres asked, dreading the answer.

“I am not sure.” Seven studied the holodeck program summary. “Do you think this will be pleasing to the Captain?”

“Well ... I guess. Yeah, I think.”

“Then I agree. I will make the necessary arrangements.”

“Good.”

“What is the derivation of this setting?” Seven asked.

“Mid-Twentieth century erotic literature.”

“I am not familiar with this body of work.”

“Well, remember the character you played ... you were assigned by the Hirogen, the nightclub singer? This character is similar.”

Seven raised an eyebrow “And yours?”

B’Elanna hesitated momentarily before answering. “I’m a low-class prostitute.”

“How appropriate.”

“What?!”

“I was endeavoring to make a joke. ‘Teasing’.”

“Oh. okay.”

“And Captain Janeway?”

It’s a good thing you don’t call her that during sex. She’d kill you. “Kathryn is a writer. We seduce her in the opium den.”

“An establishment dedicated to the ingestion of harmful mind-altering substances.”

“Exactly.”

“And this will be pleasing to the Captain?”

“Seven, trust me. It’s the atmosphere.”

“The atmosphere will be full of acrid smoke, will it not?”

“You know something?” B’Elanna asked, exasperated.

“What?” Seven raised her eyebrow again.

“If you weren’t good in bed, you would be insufferable.”

“Then I am glad that I am good in bed.”

“So am I.”

 -------------------------

“So what have you cooked up for me this time?” Janeway held the dress out at arms length. It was in a late 1930’s French style, low cut, and almost translucent.

“Just put on the dress and you’ll see.” B’Elanna begged.

“Do you know what this is all about, Seven?”

“I do.” Seven’s dress was black, and outlined with sequins, as were the long gloves on her arms. Her short hair was dyed jet black, and the only colors were those of her pupils and her brightly painted red lips.

“Then what is it?”

“Put on the dress, Captain.” Seven answered.

“I am not walking down the corridor dressed like this.”

“I’ve arranged for site to site transport to the holodeck. Trust me!”

“All right, you win.” Kathryn disappeared into the bathroom, being self-conscious about changing clothes in front of them, although she knew it was illogical.

When she returned, Seven and B’Elanna eyed her appreciatively. “Are we ready?” B’Elanna asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“I was born ready.” Seven said seriously, and they stared at her in amazement. “Mr. Paris was teaching me some additional vernacular sayings. Did I use it correctly?”

Kathryn restrained herself from laughing long enough to say, “That was fine, Seven, really. But you should warn us before you do that ... so we’ll be ready to ... accurately judge.”

“Okay, here we go. Computer, execute program Torres one-five-six.”

The computer chirped in acknowledgment, and they were engulfed in the blue shimmer of the transporter. When they reappeared in the holodeck, the program was already running. They were standing under an awning on a narrow Paris street, and it was raining heavily. The door to the opium den, marked only by a series of Chinese symbols, was before them.

“Shall we?” Torres motioned. When they entered, they were greeted by a thick blue haze of smoke, and Janeway coughed several times. “What in the devil is that *smell*?”

Seven looked at B’Elanna, and then answered, “It is ‘atmosphere’.”

“Very funny. Computer, reduce smoke by half.” Torres looked around, for the hostess, who appeared momentarily.

“Ahh, Mademoiselle Torres, your private room is prepared ... right this way, please.”

“Thank you.” They were led down a corridor broken by doorways on each side, some obscured by screens, others simply by multi-colored strings of beads. In each room there were people smoking, or groping each other, or both.

“Would you like to purchase a quantity of opium for you and your friends? Or have you brought your own ... that is allowed of course, your account has been paid in advance.” The hostess opened the door at the end of the hall, which revealed a small anteroom leading through another curtain of beads to the room beyond.

“We’re fine.” Torres answered.

“Then enjoy ... “ The hostess nodded, and closed the door behind her.

They walked through the bead curtain, and Kathryn got her first view of their private room. It was lit by two floor-standing lamps, with elaborate shades, and there was a skylight through which the lights of the city shone. The walls were dingy and grey, from the smoke, and the one visible chair was antique, made of a dark hued wood. Against the wall there was a large circular bed, covered with pillows, all red and pink and yellow, with tassels and lace. On a table in the corner was a large ashtray, and a packet of cigarettes. There was also a record player, with a large cone speaker. Seven walked over to it and lowered the tone arm onto the record, and after a moment there came a plaintive melody, sung in French, which Janeway did not recognize.

“What do you think?”

“Well ...” Janeway looked around “It’s not exactly the Risa Hilton ...but it’ll do.”

“You hate it.” B’Elanna exclaimed. “I knew it.”

Seven was ignoring the exchange, and was arranging the pillows on the bed.

“I don’t hate it. It’s ... wonderful.”

“You do hate it.” B’Elanna crossed her arms and her face reddened with embarrassment and anger. “I can’t believe it.”

“B’Elanna.” Janeway took her in her arms, and cupped her chin. “I love it. Because you did it for *me*. It’s perfect.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Janeway kissed B’Elanna on the mouth, and then turned to see what Seven was doing. She had lit one of the cigarettes, and was inhaling from it.

“What on Earth are you doing?”

“My character is a lounge singer. Lounge singers smoke large amounts of cigarettes. Even when they are performing.”

“And who am I?”

“You’re a writer.”

“And who are you?” Janeway asked B’Elanna.

“She is a lower class prostitute.” Seven said, with a hint of a smirk.

“How appropriate.”

“*WHY* does everyone say that!?”

Janeway grinned. “And what are we doing here?”

“The prostitute and I have brought you here in order to drug you with opium and seduce you. I trust the opium will be unnecessary.”

“I think so.” Janeway smiled. “Put the cigarette out, though, I don’t want to be tasting it later.”

“As you wish.” Seven stubbed the cigarette into the ashtray quickly, and sat on the edge of the bed.

“I feel kind of silly about all this.” Torres looked around, and down at her outfit.

“It was a wonderful idea, and I love you for it.” Janeway ran her hands down B’Elanna’s back. “Now, wasn’t there something about a seduction?”

“I think it would be appropriate if you brought the Capt... the writer to the bed.” Seven suggested.

“Absolutely.” Torres led Janeway to Seven, and then sat down onto the bed. Seven stood up, and walked around behind Kathryn, easing her forward to stand between B’Elanna’s knees. “You are the prostitute ... perhaps you should advise me on how to proceed.”

“Will everyone just shut up about the prostitute thing? You know what to do.”

“I do.” Seven reached around under Kathryn’s arms to slide them up under her breasts, which were well-outlined by the translucent material of her dress. The girl placed small, light kisses on the back of her neck. Kathryn’s eyes closed.

“I’m beginning to enjoy this ...”

“I should hope you would.” Seven said, as she moved her fingers to the straps of Kathryn’s dress, which were pushed slowly from the woman’s shoulders. The dress was tight enough that it still had to be pulled down, which B’Elanna did, leaning in very close, and kissing each inch of newly exposed flesh. As the dress passed Kathryn’s hips, B’Elanna’s tongue flicked out and licked up her soft, flat stomach.

“Mmmm.”

Seven, having crouched down to pull the dress away from Kathryn’s heels, began working her way up Janeway’s legs, kissing her calves, and tracing along the outline of the backs of the woman’s knees with her tongue. As she reached the backs of Janeway’s thighs, she slid her hand between them to rub gently on her sex, through the thin black panties. Janeway steadied herself by placing both hands on B’Elanna’s shoulders, who looked up at her and smiled, before placing her mouth over a breast.

“Oh....” Seven, her hand still working slowly back and forth between Janeway’s legs, was now running her tongue steadily and lightly up the small of her back, in the very center.

Janeway turned, and B’Elanna grasped the waistband of Kathryn’s panties. As she slid them down, Janeway kissed Seven passionately, pushing the Borg’s dress down and off quickly. She wore no underwear. They embraced, their naked skins rubbing and sliding against each other. B’Elanna stood as well now, and pulled her own clothing off, just in time to find both women pushing her back onto the bed.

“Wait, we’re supposed to be seducing you, remember?” B’Elanna protested as Janeway climbed atop her, and Seven crawled onto the bed beside them.

“Consider me thoroughly seduced. From the moment I saw you two in those dresses.”

“As you wish.” Seven said, and leaned in to kiss first Janeway, then Torres. Kathryn moaned as B’Elannas strong fingers found her nipples, pinching them carefully, as Seven’s mouth engulfed her own. Soon they were arrayed on the circular bed, Janeway lying on her back, with Seven’s head between her thighs, and B’Elanna perched over her head. Kathryn played her tongue against Torres’ sex, luxuriating in the bolts of pleasure that wracked her body from Seven’s attentions. She was as drunk from sensations as she would have been had the opium haze been real.

B’Elanna was brought quickly to fruition by Janeway’s expert ministrations, and soon displaced Seven from her spot between Kathryn’s thighs. Seven lay beside them, stealing kisses, reaching out to caress a gently undulating curve here and there, and slowly caressing herself.

When Janeway came, it was almost a deliverance from unbearable torture. B’Elanna and Seven had brought her to the brink several times, only to allow her to recede back into the teasing throes of her pleasure. Seven placed soft kisses on her parted lips as she gasped for air, and as B’Elanna slid slowly up her body to bury her face in the crook of her neck. She felt as warm and satiated as she had ever been.

“You two have outdone yourselves this time.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” B’Elanna breathed against Kathryn’s neck.

“As am I.” Seven slid off the bed, and walked naked to the table, where she took another cigarette out of the pack, and lighting it, sat gracefully in one of the chairs. The city light framed her from the skylight, and she watched as Kathryn ran her hands through B’Elannas hair, kissing her on the soft ridges of her forehead.

“I hope” B’Elanna murmured contentedly against Kathryn’s lips “That she isn’t going to make smoking a habit.”

Seven raised an eyebrow and retorted, “I am simply trying to preserve the atmosphere.”