Janeway took another drink of the wine, allowing a moment to savor its oak overtones, and tried again to begin. "Seven, I know you and Tom have been seeing each other for a number of weeks, but I'm not sure if sex would be a wise step at this juncture in your relationship--"

This time, Seven cut her off. "--because you think Tom is. . .on the rebound. . .and could be using me to fill an emptiness in his life. Because you believe he is still in love with B'Elanna and has no intention of making a. . .commitment to me. Because you think he will take what he wants from me without consideration for my feelings and. . .discard. . .me when he is through."

Janeway sighed. Speaking with Seven, no matter the subject, was always an exercise in directness, in spite of the stilted cadence. She wasn't sure if she welcomed it this time, but she was determined to get through it.

"Actually, I believe it could be a combination of all of those things. I just don't want to see you get hurt."

"I will not 'get hurt,' Captain. All the things I mentioned are criticisms of Tom, and you agreed with them. You are. . .wrong. Besides, did you not hear my original statement on the Velocity court? I said I wish to have sex with Tom."

All right, my dear drone, you want to play it this way? Fine. "All right then. Forgive me my oversight. You wish to have sex with Tom. Why?"

Seven sat frozen, the only outward indication that had she even heard the question was a distinctly human blink. Janeway felt a moment's satisfaction at that but kept it carefully from her face. The ex-Borg then placed her hands on her thighs, another distinctly human gesture and answered with a question of her own, one obviously designed to distract.

"Captain, may I please have a glass of wine?"

Janeway arched her eyebrow at the request, but rose to the replicator to fulfill it. She returned to the couch with a second glass. Seven accepted it and took a tentative sip, as Janeway again sat on the couch beside her.

The captain allowed her single-word question to dangle out there alone, prepared to watch Seven get quietly drunk before she would ask again. As it turned out, she didn't have to wait even that long. Seven placed her wineglass on the coffee table, leaned back against the couch and folded her hands primly into her lap.

"Tom Paris makes me. . .happy. I believe he sincerely cares about me and wants to make an honest commitment with me. When he made what he thought was his farewell message on board the Delta Flyer, he made it to me. He said he. . .missed. . .me."

Janeway couldn't quite believe it. Seven had deftly avoided the question, a first for her. In fact, to Janeway's ears, it sounded more like the woman was trying to convince herself of Tom's love, rather than explain to anyone else why she wanted to have sex with him. Janeway wisely refrained from saying these things, deciding instead to rephrase her question. She could not understand why Seven – who had initiated the conversation – was now so reluctant to have it.

"But why now, Seven? What made you decide now was the time?"

Once again out of character, Seven reached for her glass and took another sip of wine. "Tom and I have had six dates. The crew is talking about us, sometimes when they know I am within hearing range. The database claims that sex between a couple can occur anytime between the first and the sixth date. I am. . .late. And I am--"

Whoa, mule! "Wait a minute, Seven! Are you saying there’s something in the database that actually says sex can occur between the first and sixth dates?" She absolutely refused to believe that.

Seven faltered, clearly unprepared for the interruption. "No. . .no, Captain, it is merely what I have. . .extrapolated, based on what I read in the database and the. . .progression of my dates with Tom."

This was of some relief to Kathryn Janeway, and it was all she could do not to wipe her forehead and exclaim whew. At least the damn database was not that specific about the way things ought to progress, but it didn't help the situation at hand. Another question came to mind, one all the more obvious because she hadn't thought to ask it sooner.

"And Tom? Has he expressed a desire to have sex with you?" Dear God, even though she knew this was the way Seven preferred to have a conversation (or at least the way she usually preferred it), it still had to be one of the most outrageous questions a captain had ever asked a subordinate.

"I do not know. We have not discussed it."

Well, that just did it. Janeway threw her hands in the air in exasperation. "Seven, what the hell is going on here? You have never evaded a conversation so thoroughly as you are this one, and you're the one who started it!" She paused and took a breath, gaining some control over her volume. She leaned forward and placed her hand on Seven’s knee, lowering her voice. "Seven, listen to me. Sex is a two-way street. You can't simply make a decision to have sex with someone without consulting that someone. There is clearly something else going on here and – put that down! I do not want to have to carry you to Sickbay for a dose of detox before we finish this. . .this whatever it is we're having. Now tell me exactly what is on your mind." She sat back on the couch.

Seven obediently put the glass down and turned her full gaze upon her captain. "I am. . .inadequate. . .to the task of sexual intercourse. I seek your advice and your instruction."

It was only Janeway's years of command-level discipline that kept her jaw from hitting the floor. Okay, she admitted to herself, she had asked for it, but it didn't leave her any less flabbergasted. Seeking a second's diversion to gather her wits, she took a deep swallow of wine and managed to choke out, "What are you saying?"

Seven continued, never noticing the affect her words were having. "I am saying I am a virgin. I am saying I require your. . .assistance in divesting me of my virginal state and instructing me in the finer points of copulation so that I may be a better lover to Tom."

The room began to tilt dangerously. Janeway instinctively threw one arm out against the back of the couch to firm up her equilibrium. She knew Seven's logic was hopelessly skewed, yet she had to ask. "Why me?"

"The database stated it is ideal for a woman to. . .lose her virginity. . .to someone she cares about and respects, someone who cares about and respects her in return. Aside from Tom, you are the only one who feels that way about me."

While that might not have been entirely true, Janeway could finally see a semblance of logic. However, it did beg another question, and with a wry smile, she asked. "Doesn’t the database also suggest the persons in question be attracted to one another?" She meant this question to tease, but Seven's brief answer effectively blew that tactic.

"Yes."

Vivid blue eyes bore into hers, as Seven reached out and touched her fingertips to Janeway's cheek. Responding by instinct rather than conscious thought, Janeway reached out to brush her thumb across the star-like implant by Seven's right ear. Seven gasped at this contact, and Janeway came abruptly to the moment. She jerked her hand back and threw herself off the couch, standing with her back to Seven, arms folded protectively across her chest.

Silence prevailed for a number of minutes, broken finally a dull alto voice.

"Captain, you find this activity inappropriate." It was a statement, not a question – thank God – because if it had been a question, Janeway was not sure how she would have answered. As it was, she could not think of a word to say, even when Seven prompted.

"Captain?"

Yes, oh yes, this was certainly a most inappropriate activity but. . .but. . .Janeway began to rationalize a possible action. When it comes right down to it, Katie old girl, how would this activity be any more inappropriate than the thousands of other inappropriate activities anyof us have so far engaged in during this ship's unplanned sojourn into this miserable quadrant? I am Seven's mentor, after all, and okay, it's been a while, but I think I do know a thing or two about making love to a man that I could certainly teach her.

Seven prompted again, clearly anxious for a response.

I could turn now, lift her into my arms, and kiss her. I could do this, and she would let me because she trusts me implicitly. She wouldn’t think for one minute that I could be the one using her

Janeway uncrossed her arms and let them fall to her side, but she didn’t turn around. She raised her chin and spoke. "Seven, I’m flattered by your request, but. . ." But what? 'But I'm not attracted to you?' Christ, is my nose growing? "But you’re right, it is inappropriate, and I think you know that." The words came out much sharper than she had intended, and it had an immediate affect on Seven. Before Janeway was even aware she had moved, Seven was off the couch and striding toward the door.

"Seven, wait!" The young woman was fully halted before Janeway finished, a sure sign that she had been hoping to be stopped. This was not lost on Janeway. In fact, it was exactly the point she wanted to make.

"Look at me." Seven pivoted and brought her blue eyes to bear once more on her captain. Janeway allowed a small smile. "I’m sorry, Seven, I didn't mean that the way it sounded." Seven immediately opened her mouth to respond, but Janeway shook her head and held up a hand. "No, let me finish, please."

Seven raised her implant-brow, and the trademark gesture restored some of the command-level discipline Janeway had been fast losing sight of.

"I merely meant you and I both know it's inappropriate activity for many reasons – all of which I will not outline for you." Though I’m sure you'll get it from the damned database soon enough.

"I do know this: I cannot possibly teach you anything that would make you a better lover to Tom, despite what you may believe. Sex just doesn't work like that. It's not that clinical, it doesn't care about databases or extrapolations. It has its own timetable and its own set of rules and refuses to be held accountable to anyone else's. Really, Seven, you know the person you should be having this conversation with is Tom, not me."

Janeway was very pleased with her little speech and thought she had even managed to make Seven understand. That is, until she actually looked at the ex-drone.

What might have been the entire range of human emotions could be seen on Seven's pale face, making the implants stand out in harsh contrast. Her human eye was brimming, and the corners of her mouth were pulled down in a frown of confusion and concentration. As Janeway watched, she could see Seven working her way through the information she had been given, trying to find the correct response, as nanoprobes battled emotions.

After a moment, Seven drew herself up to her full height and assumed her standard frosty countenance, clearly intending to make Borg work of it all. "If that is what you prefer, Captain."

This was a mighty good display. Unfortunately, Seven failed to take into consideration her humanity, which expressed itself in a single crystal teardrop and an unmistakably thready voice.

The "captain" in Janeway never allowed one outward sign that this display affected her. Deeper in, however, another voice whispered. I would prefer to kiss those ruby lips until my head spins, I would prefer to remove that dreadful catsuit and feast my tired eyes upon that beautiful, flawed body, I would prefer--

She stepped up to Seven and again brought her thumb to the star-like implant, letting her fingers rest lightly along her jawline. "I would prefer you harness the feelings you have now and channel them towards loving Tom. Everything else will come in its own time. Trust me on this."

Janeway decided she liked this speech a whole lot better than the previous one. Apparently, so did Seven.

"You are very. . .wise. . .," eyebrow cocked for emphasis and not a little humor, "Kathryn Janeway."

Janeway grinned outright. "Yes, Seven-of-Nine, Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix Zero One, I am." She went to remove her hand from Seven’s face, but before she could, Seven took it, turned her head, and placed a moist, tender kiss into the center of Janeway's palm.

"Thank you," she whispered, and was gone.

A moment passed. And then another. Janeway made a fist around the tingling sensation in her palm, sucked in a deep, shuddering breath, and turned to look for her wineglass.