Poetics 2



By Alibaba

J/7 a first time (slow seduction) story chock full of historical lesbian poetry!

This won't make much sense if you have not read part one!

Poems excerpted or referred to in P.2 :

Emily Dickinson - "I had been hungry, all the Years"

Elizabeth Bishop - "It is Marvelous to Wake up together."

Seven of Nine spent the rest of her duty shift in a pleasant haze. In the utter solitude of her mind she repeated parts of the Emily Dickinson poem that Kathryn had sent her. She smiled in anticipation of her response. Choosing significant words to emphasize: hunger oh, yes she’d long felt a hunger in the captain’s presence, plenty – ample, these she could use quite suggestively she was sure of that. She briefly wondered if she should send an audio message. No, best to stick with text for now in case the intonations of her voice revealed more than she was ready to.

Seven had intended to consume only a liquid nutritional supplement in the mess hall to maximize her time composing her response. When she arrived in the mess hall she had to wait for a replicator and then accepted Harry and B’Elanna’s invitation to join their table. As anxious as she was to complete her task she also admitted that she did enjoy their company and should use the opportunity to practice her social skills. They shared cordial conversation for several minutes. Seven’s empty glass was a reminder of what lay ahead of her this evening.

“You seem a little distracted Seven.” Harry stated.

“We aren’t boring you are we?” B’Elanna said with a friendly smirk.

“No, I am not bored, but I do apologize for being distracted. My thoughts are filled with other matters.”

“Working on some new project?” Harry’s dark eyes sparkled as he smiled.

“Some new way to boost our warp drive,” B’Elanna asked. Seven felt strange about discussing what was occupying her thoughts, she also felt her cheeks become slightly warm. Both her friends watched her with raised eyebrows clearly wanting an explanation.

“I have recently begun an investigation of,” she hesitated, “poetry.”

“Poetry.” B’lanna looked confused.

“Terran poetry – mostly of the 18th to 20th centuries – it is quite … engrossing.”

Her friends exchanged incredulous looks before looking back at her.

“That’s great Seven,” Harry said, “I like poetry too.” B’Elanna guffawed at this and playfully punched him on the shoulder. “What? I do! I’m a sensitive guy.” He smiled and laughed along with B’Elanna. Seven was unsure about the cause of their laughter.

“I must return to my project,” Seven said as she stood up, “I enjoyed spending time with both of you.” She nodded and took her glass to the replicator then strode out of the room.

Harry and B’Elanna stared at each other for a moment.

“Seven’s in a hurry.” Tom said sitting down with his tray. “What?” He asked in response to the childish looks on his companions faces.

“Was she?” Harry asked.

“Blushing?! – yah – she was!” B’Elanna shook her head, “wow.”

“Who? Seven?” Tom asked.

“Duhhh!” was pronounced in stereo.

“Wonder what kind of poems she’s been reading?” B’Elanna said.



Seven stared at the lines of the poem on her console screen; tell me what you think, Kathryn had said. She wondered what Kathryn expected; scholarly examination of the metaphors and subtle rhymes? Instead Seven decided to give her Captain what she hadn’t asked for – how the poem made her feel, especially how she connected it to how she felt about Kathryn. As she wrote Seven felt tumultuous emotions building inside her. The splash of her tears on the smooth console surprised her. She re-read her own words; such honest emotion was unsettling but, she admitted to herself, Kathryn had that effect on her.



Kathryn Janeway had a mostly uneventful day traversing the Delta quadrant. Long range scans had detected something suspiciously similar to Borg transwarp signatures early in the day. A probe had been launched as an early warning system and Kathryn had ordered Tom to adjust their course which, with any luck, would keep them well away from any Borg activity. Other than that brief bit of excitement she had passed the time reviewing reports and adding to her official log. Late in the shift she had given into temptation and re-read Seven’s message. She stared at the succinct stanza’s trying to divine Seven’s intentions. She wondered what sort of ‘innocent intemperance’ she might be to the former Borg. “A warmth as near as if the Sun – Were shining in your Hand.” She couldn’t deny the warmth she experienced simply being in Seven’s company, the heat … she could feel her skin begin to flush at the thought of Seven’s hands. The door chime interrupted her; Tuvok wanted to discuss training additional crew members to act as a reserve security unit. If he noticed his Captain was blushing or that her fingers repeatedly caressed the back of the padd she had been reading he gave no indication.

Following her shift Kathryn took some time to wander the corridors of her ship stopping to chat with various members of her crew, enjoying their delight in her attention and concern. Her spontaneous strolls had initially caused some anxiety until her people understood that she was checking in with them not checking up on them. The warm smiles and casual conversations helped assuage the immense guilt Kathryn carried. She had closed herself off from the crew in the past and had learned from that mistake. She shared her dinner table with Sam and Naomi Wildman and was quickly caught up in Naomi’s latest project as Captain’s Assistant. She wanted permission to begin a memory wall in the mess hall, pictures, art and holo-images of the crew. Kathryn thought it an excellent idea and insisted that Naomi get started right away. Throughout her entire day Kathryn had a look of contained happiness that was obvious to everyone. It was the outward expression of the warmth that was building inside of her, the growing glow of her emotions surrounding Seven of Nine.

After dinner she declined Naomi’s invitation to explore the Doctor’s large collection of holo-images and returned to her quarters feeling at loose ends. She could not stop thinking of Seven and had become convinced that the young woman was simply sharing a newfound interest with her Captain, not attempting to seduce her. Kathryn lost a large portion of her evening imagining what that might be like. As she prepared for bed she noticed a blinking message icon on the monitor of her personal workstation. She tried in vain to control the giddy sensation in her stomach as she opened another message from Seven.



Kathryn,

You asked me what I think about this poem but it is more important, I believe, to describe what it makes me think about and how it makes me feel. The first stanza reminds me of when I was first on board Voyager, still completely Borg; how frightened I was, how I shook with rage and fear. What I hungered for then was the Collective, the solace of so many voices in my head. I hated you so much then because it was you who caused my fear – the most alien emotion because, of course, the Borg fear no-one. Did you feel me trembling, in the brig, when you caught me as I stumbled? How I shook with the certainty that ever cell in my body was breaking apart? I could feel my body – my suddenly rebellious and human body rejecting the Borg parts of me- the strong, structured, ordered parts of me. My skin ached with immense pain and the only strong structured, ordered thing I could cling to was you. How I hated you for that. How I hated myself for being weak.

Kathryn felt her heart pounding in her chest. Hated? – past tense – hated, she swallowed not sure she could handle so much honesty now when she felt so very vulnerable. She blinked away confused and guilty tears and continued reading.

It was not until much later I began to hunger for the human connections Dickinson speaks of in her poem; after I had time to observe the crew interacting with one another I too, wanted companionship. This has been difficult for me as you know. You have helped me a great deal as have other members of the crew. I am still awkward in social situations but I am also improving rapidly and I feel ready for deeper and more complex relationships.

The ‘Crumb’ was the inescapable interconnectedness of the Collective. Millions of voices and yet each of us was alone. Emotions had to be irrelevant because such a cacophony of voices added to the cold isolation would have surely turned every one of us insane. When I think of how much I enjoy my simple freedoms here on Voyager the Collective cannot compare.

Kathryn let herself cry with relief.

I do at times feel quite odd and uneasy when surrounded by too many of the crew, but I assure you I never feel that way when I am with you. I am indeed “a mountain bush transplanted to the road” but with such pleasant company I grow more comfortable every day. It occurs to me that as that hunger for basic interaction has lessened another has grown to replace it. A hunger for something beyond companionship and camaraderie. A hunger to fully experience my emotions. A hunger for more sensuous interactions with the world.



It is marvelous to wake up together

At the same minute; marvelous to hear

The rain begin suddenly all over the roof,

To feel the air suddenly clear

As if electricity had passed through it …

Seven.



Kathryn ordered a glass of water from the replicator and calmed her breathing. She scanned the last two lines and then the unfamiliar poem excerpt. Sensuous interactions? Perhaps she had been wrong about Seven’s intentions – perhaps, she hoped, completely wrong.