CHAPTER NINE

Kathryn Janeway stood in the corridor of the crew quarters. She felt completely exhibited. When she had suggested that Annika be assigned real quarters, it hadn’t occurred to her that she would have to go traipsing through the lower decks to go visit her lanky blonde girlfriend... "God, I hate that term. There has to be a better one," Janeway thought. And, to make matters worse, the captain strolling through the crew section wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. Janeway nodded to two ensigns talking at the end of one hall near the entrance to the Junior Officer’s recreation room. She remained stoic even though she knew as soon as she was out of earshot she would be the topic of speculation... "Probably some very steamy speculation," she amended. Seven had revived a reckless, passionate side that Janeway hadn’t known for many years, hadn’t allowed her herself to know. The last time she had given in to such powerful emotions and sensations, it had almost cost her career before it even started… but Janeway didn’t want to think about that again now. Right now, she wanted to see Annika. They had both been kept busy with all of the strange asteroids, and she wanted to spend some time with her girlfriend. Annika’s shift had ended three hours earlier. Janeway had finished her duties only twenty minutes ago. Kathryn had been so excited to see Seven that she had only taken the time to grab a quick shower and to change clothes then she had high-tailed it down to see Annika.

As expected, as soon as Janeway was gone, the conversation turned to her. Ensign Walker’s tone oozed disgust like a seeping wound.

"First she gives that bitch Borg the primo position of Astrometrics officer, now she’s got her Borg lap dog living with us. There’re plenty of us waiting for advancement and she gives the position to a Borg."

Ensign Hicks broke in, "Which position is that Walker, Astrometrics or bedding the captain?"

Walker’s voice raised, "She shouldn’t be allowed to breathe our air, let alone bed our Captain. None of us are safe as long as she’s here. I’ve got the to room next to her. She could snap at any moment and assimilate all of us."

"I wouldn’t mind her assimilating me," Hicks said with a bit too much enthusiasm.

"The hell with that. That thing’s not human, Hicks." Walker said, his voice thick with hatred.

"She looks human to me," Hicks said. "Besides, she’s helped out Voyager a few times."

"That doesn’t erase all the people she’s already assimilated. The Borg killed my brother at Wolf 324. I’m not gonna’ sit back and let her kill us all," Walker said. He sighed and his eyes turned hard. "I was in the Maquis, Hicks, and I know that accidents happen." He nodded as he spoke. "The captain can’t be around that Borg creature all the time."

B’Elanna Torres jumped down from a conduit she had been working on, "Walker, You must have a death wish."

That said, Torres grabbed Hicks and tossed him out of her way. Hicks went flying and landed clumsily in the middle of the corridor. With B’Elanna’s attention on Walker, Hicks saw his chance and scurried away. Torres crossed the space to Walker and took him by the throat and pinned him to the wall. Her arm was as high as she could hold it, high enough that Walker’s toes could only manage to scrape across the deck.

"If you ever…" Torres began as she squeezed his throat until his breathing became a wheeze. "Say anything like that again… I will break every bone in your body, drag your worthless carcass to sick bay, and as soon as the Doctor mends your skeletal system back together… I will re-break every one again…"

He coughed and his eyes watered. He tried to speak but Torres responded by inching him forward and then slamming him back against the wall.

"Then I will repeat the process until I get bored… then I will kill you." Torres dropped him. He grabbed the railing and gasped for air in long rasping breaths. "Oh," Torres added, "and it takes me a long time to get bored. As for you living next to Seven… that won’t be a problem anymore. Get your things together. I’ll be switching quarters with you. You have forty minutes to get packed. I’ll have my things ready and in my new quarters in forty-five minutes. After that, anything you haven’t moved is going out the nearest airlock."

Walker stood on shaky legs and glared at the Chief Engineer. "You call this Starfleet regulation interaction with a subordinate officer?" The implied threat was not lost on the high strung Klingon Human hybrid.

Torres slammed her knee into Walker’s crotch knocking him back into the wall. "Report me… Maybe I’ll get busted down to Ensign… then we’d be ‘equals’… we could ‘interact’ all we want."

"I’ll have my things out in forty-five minutes." He waited for her to back up and then limped off down the corridor.

Torres watched him leave. She felt her blood pounding through her ears. Walker was lucky to be alive. Torres wouldn’t stand for his kind of comments about anyone, let alone Seven. "Get a grip, B’Elanna, you know it’s more," she told herself. "Kahless help me, it’s so much more." It was hard enough when this was simple lust for the former Borg. Now she was actually developing a friendship with the young woman. B’Elanna was certain that Kahless himself was testing her. "Why did it have to be the captain’s girlfriend?"

Seven was sitting on the couch with Janeway nestled beside her. Seven’s arm was loosely draped around her girlfriend. Seven loved the term. She leaned her head over onto Kathryn’s head. Kathryn was telling Seven the details of her day and she listened intently, content to be wrapped in the melodic sound of Kathryn’s deep, smoky voice.

Kathryn turned toward Seven. "Am I boring you?"

"Never," Seven said honestly. "I love the sound of your voice, and I enjoy being the one you can talk to."

Janeway couldn’t believe that on their official forth date she droning on endlessly about her day, but then again, that was what being with someone was all about. Sharing everything. "It so easy to be in a relationsh... Uh, to date you." Janeway pivoted and kissed Seven on the cheek. She let her lips linger on the satin skin and then found Seven’s lips. It as so tempting, but she would not push Annika. Janeway pulled away and looked into Seven’s eyes.

"That was nice," Kathryn whispered.

Seven blushed, an actual full blown blush that even reached Seven’s ears. Seven turned away, "I enjoyed it as well." Seven had noticed that Kathryn didn’t seem as amorous as she had initially. Kathryn seemed content to keep their kisses brief. Perhaps the captain no longer found her sexually appealing.

"So," Kathryn began. "Are you ready for our date?"

"Yes," Seven said crisply. "Where are we going?"

"Oh, no. Now it’s my turn to surprise you."

"Yes, but I do not enjoy surprises, so you should tell me now," Seven bluffed.

"Nice try, but I’m not talking," Janeway said. She felt the bulkhead behind her shake. Seven stared at Kathryn with eyes full of questions. Then they both heard the muted crash in the next room.

"Curious," Seven said.

"Is that normal?" Kathryn asked.

"No," Seven said. The captain turned toward the interrupting noise. Seven tilted her head to one side. "…B’Elanna."

"B’Elanna?" Kathryn said. "I thought Ensign Walker had the quarters next to you."

"B’Elanna is in the corridor. I believe she is engaged in some sort of aggression," Seven clarified.

"You can hear that?" Janeway asked as she stood and headed for the door.

"Of course. You cannot?" It occurred to Seven that it was a wonder Humans accomplished anything. All of their senses were so… unimpressive, all humans except for Kathryn. Everything about her was impressive.

Janeway led Seven out the door into the corridor. She turned to her right and stopped. B’Elanna Torres had Ensign Walker by the back of the neck and was dragging him in the opposite direction. Actually, she seemed to be heading for the airlock.

Janeway cleared her throat. "Lieutenant?"

B’Elanna stopped and cringed before turning around. She straightened her shoulders. "Captain."

"Uh…" Walker managed.

Janeway folded her arms across her chest. "I’d like an explanation."

Walker looked at Torres, but said nothing. Torres glanced past the captain at Seven, then pulled Walker to his feet and wrapped her arm cordially around him and smiled. "Yeah, Walker and I are just, uh switching quarters. He was just leaving."

"Why?" Janeway asked. She wasn’t buying B’Elanna’s story.

"You know, Captain." B’Elanna tried. "You see, he and I had a little wager… right Walker…" Torres hugged his chest until his ribs creaked, threatening to break.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "A bet."

Torres cut in. "I lost, so he gets my quarters. They’re quite a bit bigger."

Seven stood behind the captain observing. She could tell by B’Elanna’s increased respiration and the enlargement of her pupils that the engineer was lying. It intrigued her. "Why would you make such a wager?" Seven asked.

"Never mind," Janeway cut in. She wasn’t buying the story either, and even if she did, she didn’t approve of this type of wagering on her ship. Her gut told her something else was going on, and Kathryn Janeway always trusted her gut. "You both know better than to engage in this sort of behavior, but since it looks like you’ve already moved most of your things… I’ll let it go. Just don’t let it happen again."

"Yes, ma’am," Walker said as he scrambled down the corridor.

"Yes, Captain," B’Elanna said. She turned to go back into her new quarters, thanking Kahless that she had gotten away with her plan.

"Lieutenant…" Janeway said in a tone B’Elanna knew all too well. "I’d like to speak to you in your quarters." She motioned toward the door. B’Elanna swallowed hard and keyed in her newly installed door codes. The door hissed open and Janeway followed Torres in. Seven began to follow but Kathryn gave her a look that told her this was Captain’s business.

Seven went back to her own quarters and played her music system at its loudest volume. She played an opera Kathryn was fond of. Up until now Seven had found the music system a waste of ship’s energy, but now she needed something to drown out the sounds from B’Elanna’s quarters. Seven’s Borg enhanced hearing would make the conversation in the next room easily accessible, and she didn’t want to betray Kathryn’s trust.

B’Elanna’s door hissed shut and Janeway spun to face her chief engineer. "Well?" Janeway demanded.

"Captain?" B’Elanna stalled.

"What was that really about? And don’t give me that lame story you used in the corridor."

Janeway’s patience was nearing its end.

B’Elanna considered coming up with a better lie, but the captain would probably see right through that too. "Seven…" B’Elanna began. "I don’t want him around her."

"Excuse me?" Janeway asked. "Since when is that your call?"

"Let’s just say I overheard some rather unseemly comments," the Klingon said.

Kathryn’s eyes instantly flashed deep grey and her voice crackled with intensity. "Tell me everything. NOW."

Seven stood against her wall and scanned the room. She looked at the furnishings, a small couch, two chairs, a small table big enough for two people, and an empty storage shelf. The room was Spartan by most standards, but to Seven it was cluttered. She had already removed most of the furnishings, and was trying to decide what else could go. In the last ten minutes, she had recycled two chairs and a large cabinet. She heard her door chime and smiled, knowing that would be Kathryn. She ordered the computer to turn off the music she had been blasting.

"Come in," Seven said.

"Hi, sorry about the interruption." Kathryn said as she came into the room. She looked at her young date and tried to think about anything other than the conversation she had just finished with B’Elanna. She looked at the vacant room and raised her left eyebrow at Seven. "I see you got rid of still more of your furnishings."

"Furnishings are irrelevant," Seven said.

Kathryn laughed. "Only to you," Kathryn said with a wide grin. "Now, let’s get going."

Seven eyed Kathryn. In truth the former Borg decided she did like surprises, but she really wanted to know what the captain had planned.

"Kathryn, what should I wear?" Seven asked, fishing for information.

Janeway eyed Seven’s clothing. She was wearing her plum jumpsuit at the moment. "What else do you have?"

"I will show you," Seven said as she led Janeway to her bedroom. Janeway followed and was shocked to see unlit candles placed around the room.

"Candles?"

"Yes. They were B’Elanna’s suggestion." Seven went to her closet and open it. She flipped through her normal on-duty outfits and moved to a small grouping of outfits that B’Elanna had helped her pick out. ‘Date bait,’ B’Elanna had called them. Seven pulled one out. It was a very skimpy black cocktail gown. She held it out to the captain and raised her eyebrows in silent question.

Janeway’s jaw dropped. The dress was stunning. "Uh, yeah. That’s... perfect."

"Good," Seven said. She began to remove her plum outfit. She had pulled it down her chest exposing the two most perfect breasts Janeway had ever seen before Kathryn realized what the Borg was doing.

"Seven!" Kathryn spun away from the sight that was quickly becoming too tempting. Her brief glance at Seven’s alabaster chest was threatening her resolve to take things slow.

Unfortunately, Seven did not understand Kathryn’s chivalry.

Seven saw the captain spin away at the sight of her undressing. Her worst fear had just been confirmed. Kathryn wasn’t just losing her attraction to Seven; she was repulsed by her Borg implants. That was why she had been becoming less interested in her. Seven wondered why Kathryn even bothered to continue dating her.

"I will change in the bathroom," Seven said, suddenly afraid to let Kathryn see her body.

"Good idea," Janeway said. "Actually, Seven, my outfit is in the holodeck. Why don’t you meet me there?"

"Very well," Seven ducked into the bathroom without waiting to see Kathryn out. Seven looked in the mirror and dropped her plumb outfit to the floor. She looked at her chest where Kathryn’s eyes had briefly paused. Seven’s skin was snowy white, and there was a spider web of metal just under the skin of her right breast. It connected her circulatory system to the Borg detoxification matrix. Seven had thought the circuitry under her skin was barely visible, even with her enhanced vision, but obviously Kathryn had seen it. Seven put on the black dress and realized that it was low cut in front and revealed the subdural circuitry. She then returned to her closet and quickly picked out a sky blue dress that didn’t show off what B’Elanna had referred to as her ‘nice rack.’ Obviously Kathryn would not agree with B’Elanna’s assessment of Seven’s cleavage.

The doors to Holodeck Two opened and revealed a 1940’s nightclub. Seven scanned the crowd and saw Kathryn standing at the bar. The auburn haired Janeway was wearing an elegant silver evening gown that shimmered in the club lighting. Seven shivered. The scene reminded her of the Hirogen incident. All in all, this night was not going well for the young Borg.

"Good evening, Annika," Kathryn said as she took Seven’s elbow and led her to a table overlooking the dance floor. "You changed. Why?"

"I... I spilled something on the other dress." Seven decided a lie was better than letting Kathryn know that she knew about the captain’s revulsion.

"Well, it’s lovely," Janeway said. She pulled out Seven’s chair for her and the exdrone stared at the chair trying to figure out why Kathryn had removed the seat from the edge of the table, finally she realized that she was expected to sit. She slowly lowered herself into the chair and watched as Kathryn sat on the opposite side of the table.

"Why did you choose this setting?" Seven asked as she craned her head around to scan the room.

"I wanted to take you dancing, and this era had great music." Kathryn nodded at a waiter who made his way over toward the table. "Do you know how to dance, Seven?" Kathryn asked.

"Yes, the doctor has instructed me in various types of dancing." The room was making Seven exceptionally uncomfortable. She expected to see Nazi troops bursting through the doors at any moment. "And if I did not know how to dance?" Seven asked a little too bitterly.

"I would have thoroughly enjoyed teaching you," Kathryn said slowly. She felt Seven’s distance but didn’t quite understand it. Perhaps she shouldn’t have kissed Seven when they were in the young woman’s quarters.

The waiter poured each woman a glass of champagne and quickly left. Seven eyed it and had a flash of memory of Kathryn, dressed as Katrine, ordering her to continue singing for the Nazi Hirogen. She realized she did not like this place one bit, but she would adapt since it was obviously important to her companion. She sipped the champagne and scanned the room needing to convince herself that there were no Nazis lurking in the corners.

Seven’s attention was focused on a tall blonde man in the back of the club who looked like one of the Nazis when Kathryn reached across the table and took Annika’s hand. The former Borg jerked it back so quickly that she almost spilled her beverage.

Kathryn leaned forward, "Annika, are you okay?"

Seven stiffened. "Yes, you startled me. I apologize."

"You don’t have to apologize, I’m just concerned. You’re not having another headache are you?" Kathryn asked, actual fear coloring her voice.

"No," Seven said. She looked at Kathryn and saw how concerned her companion was. "This... setting. It reminds me of… it is the same era as, the Hirogen setting."

"Oh, my god. I hadn’t even thought of that. My memories of the incident were limited to the last encounter. I don’t even connect the two." Kathryn stood and pulled Seven to her feet. "Computer, end program." The nightclub vanished and the yellow grids replaced the dancing couples that had been on the dance floor. Kathryn saw Seven’s shoulders loosen as she visibly relaxed. "How could you have been so insensitive?" Janeway chastised herself. Kathryn stepped closer to Seven. "I’m so sorry. I never would have ... It was insensitive of me. Please accept my apology."

Seven could hear the genuine remorse in Kathryn’s voice, and she knew no matter how much the captain was repulsed by her Borg appearance, she hadn’t meant to hurt her. "It is ‘all right.’ I am aware that my experience is different than most of Voyager’s crew."

Janeway nodded. Seven seemed so distant. Her voice had none of the warmth Kathryn had been privy to over the last several days, and she it. "Way to screw up a great night," Janeway told herself. "First you make a pass at her, then you take her to dinner in club that looks just like the place she watched her shipmates repeatedly shot. Smooth, Kathryn, smooth."

"Seven," Kathryn said quietly, "Is there another program you’d like to run?"

"I... Kathryn, you do not have to continue dating me if it is not what you desire," Seven blurted out.

"Is that what you think, Annika?" Kathryn asked, her own aniexty bubbling to the surface.

"There have been several things that have indicated as much," Seven said quietly.

"Indicated as much?" Kathryn said. Her voice was harsher than she intended, but she was suddenly feeling very insecure, and the captain of the Starship Voyager didn’t have much experience with insecurity. "So now you can read you my mind?" Janeway asked even as she cringed inside. "Stupid. Stupid. Stupid."

"I have no telepathic ability," Seven said without looking directly into Kathryn’s eyes.

"Then why do you think you know what’s going on in my head?" Kathryn didn’t mean to say any of the things coming out of her mouth, she could see the pain in Seven’s eyes and wanted to stop, to shut up, but she couldn’t seem to still the words pushed on by ancient injuries. "That’s pretty damn arrogant."

Seven looked down at her feet. She knew Kathryn would not say these hurtful things without some underlying reason and she realized that Kathryn was ‘looking for a way out.’ Kathryn would never hurt Seven by telling her the truth, that she was disgusted by Seven’s appearance, so she was saying these irrational things.

"I apologize, Kathryn. Perhaps it would be better if we ‘called it a night,’" Seven said quietly, her voice losing its more of its strength with each word.

Kathryn couldn’t believe how stupid she was acting toward Seven. No matter what Kathryn had intended when she began dating Annika, she now realized that she couldn’t give the precious young Borg the relationship she deserved.

"I think this relationship was a mistake," Kathryn said, her emotion hidden by years of Starfleet training to hide her feelings. "It would be best if we called it off now before it gets serious." "But it’s already serious," Kathryn’s heart protested.

Seven looked at Kathryn. "The captain is not serious." Seven’s voice was distant. "If you think that is best, I will comply." Seven turned without another word and headed back to her quarters before Kathryn could say a word. Seven could and would argue with Kathryn about the appropriateness of dating, but she couldn’t argue with Kathryn’s revulsion. At this moment, Annika Hansen hated the Borg and her parents for delivering her to them.

Ensign Walker had just finished playing pool with several of his Maquis comrades. They had been discussing the Cardassians and the Dominion killing their friends back home. The Maquis had been Walker’s only family after his brother was killed by the Borg, but he couldn’t do anything to make the Cardies or the Dominion pay. He watched from the rec room as the aloof Borg flew past the open door. He stood and leaned out into the hall and watched as Seven disappeared around the corner. He licked his lips, noticing that the Borg seemed completely out of sorts. He looked down the opposite direction noting that he didn’t see the captain or that Klingon Torres anywhere. "Time to pay, Borg," he said under his breath as he finished his whiskey and soda.

CHAPTER TEN

Seven went into her room, instantly dismayed at the clutter and then went to the replicator. She had seen B’Elanna drink several alcoholic beverages on the occasions when she was upset and Seven was more upset than she had ever seen B’Elanna. "Computer, Saryian brandy, four." Seven promptly drank them one after the other. She did not feel any better. "Computer, Saryian brandy, four." Seven repeated the process of downing her four beverages, and still, nothing. Perhaps this only had medicinal purposes for Klingons. Twenty minutes later Seven was sitting on her couch with her bare feet propped up on the table. Obviously the brandy did not work on former Borg drones. Instead of making her feel better, it seemed to make her weep. Seven sat motionless on the sofa and let the tears flow down her cheeks. She would have to ask the doctor if brandy activated the human tear duct. She shifted her attention when she heard her door chime. She stood up, but found that she had no sense of balance. She wove her way to door, hoping it was Kathryn, and opened the door.

"Ensign Walker?" Seven slurred. "Can I assist you?"

"Actually, I came to ask if I could help you," he said pleasantly. "I noticed that when you went by earlier, you seemed a little upset." He noticed the smell of alcohol on her breath and that she wasn’t wearing her com badge and decided his plan was brilliant.

His concern surprised Seven because he had always addressed her with a belligerent attitude. Maybe Kathryn’s idea about living with the crew had been correct. Seven sighed at the thought of the captain. "Thank you for your concern, but I am ‘fine,’" she said.

"You don’t look fine," he said. He pushed Seven back and came into the room. Seven opened her mouth to respond but forgot what she was going to say. Walker put his hand on Seven’s arm. "Seven, why don’t you sit down, and I’ll get you a drink."

Seven frowned as he guided her to the couch and then pushed her down. "I have already had enough to drink," she said and awkwardly stood back up. She didn’t like the way his eyes seemed dark and angry. "Ensign Walker, I would like you to leave," Seven said politely.

Walker was at the com panel near the replicator, but oddly enough he appeared to be accessing the internal communication system, and not the beverage replicator. He spun and his face was flushed, "I really don’t give a damn what you would like, Borg," he said.

Seven realized he had turned off her voice access to the computer, and that made her extremely apprehensive. He moved to her in two steps and grabbed her by the throat and tried to strangle her. "How many people did you assimilate?" he yelled.

Seven easily ripped his hands off her throat, but did not answer his question. In truth, she hadn’t expected such an exchange, and the alcohol had strangely dulled her ability to respond quickly. She was more concerned with the fact that Ensign Walker was attempting to grab her throat again. Seven swung her Borg left hand and sent him careening across the room into the wall.

He turned, rubbing his jaw. "You Borg bitch!" He rushed at Seven, but as she tried to step out of the way, she tripped on the coffee table. Her quarters were definitely cluttered. As she attempted to stand, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye, then felt the impact of a data padd that had been on her desk. Walker had backhanded her with it across her face. She turned her head to one side and started to stand, but he had time to draw back and hit her again. "Where’s your Collective now?" he yelled.

Seven of Nine was now two things; very drunk, and royally pissed off, not a good combination when it comes to a Borg with super enhanced strength. She had spent hours working on that data padd, and it had been quite painful when used in the manner Walker chose. Seven straightened to her entire height, though she was swaying a bit. Walker came at her again and Seven kicked him in the groin and grabbed him. He let out an odd squeak and began hitting Seven in the chest with both fists. She picked him up, lifted him over her head, and heaved him over her desk into the wall. He hit with a very satisfying thud, much more satisfying than any padd she had ever thrown. He rolled off the desk and onto the floor and whimpered as tried to get up.

Seven touched her cheek and looked at the blood on her hand. She realized she was quickly becoming dizzy and assumed it was the combination of the alcohol and the blows to her head. She lost her balance and fell to the floor. She tried to use the wall to get up, but realized she was unable to stand at the moment. She knew Walker would be able to recover faster than she could and that concerned her greatly. She was on her hands and knees watching as the blood from her face created a growing stain on the carpet. She was certain it would be difficult to clean up. She looked over at Walker who seemed to be regaining his bearings and she sighed. It was unfortunate that he was probably going to attempt to attack her again. She would not be able to toss him off, so she would have no alternative other than to kill him. She could secure him by the throat with her left hand and snap his neck with a minimum expenditure of energy, but she wished he wouldn’t put her in that position. It was rude.

B’Elanna Torres was arranging her furniture and was not in a very good mood to be doing it. She had already drank two bottles of Klingon whisky and was now putting a nice dent in a bottle of Saryian brandy she had won from Harry in a poker match. "What the hell was I thinking? I never should have told Janeway about Walker. The last thing I need is for her to figure out that I’ve got feelings for Seven." B’Elanna pushed her favorite chair over to the corner and was thoroughly infuriated to realize it wouldn’t fit next to her couch. The room was just too small. "ARGH!" She slumped into the chair and scanned the room. She didn’t even have anyone to help move her things. Tom was off in Holodeck One with Harry and the Delaney sisters. Voyager’s Chief Engineer didn’t much care for Tom’s idea that they have an open relationship. What that ending up meaning was that Tom chased every woman on board and B’Elanna was left pining for the unavailable Seven of Nine or straight women she worked with. B’Elanna grabbed her glass of brandy and drained it. She stood to fill the glass and heard a loud thump on the wall. She turned and walked toward it. She heard loud, but muffled voices through the wall, then a much louder thump.

She ran into the corridor and activated Seven’s door chime, then pounded on the door. She didn’t wait for an answer. "Security over ride, Torres alpha six four nine beta," she yelled, knowing it would initiate an immediate response from the security officers as well as access Seven’s quarters. The door opened and B’Elanna rushed in and saw Seven crumpled on the floor against the wall. B’Elanna turned and saw Walker stumbling to his feet and Torres was suddenly in the throes of a Klingon Battle rage.

"Walker!" the Klingon roared.

"B’Elanna," Seven said, "What are you doing here?"

Torres spun to Seven and the Klingon’s eyes widened. Seven looked up from the floor revealing a gash on her cheek that was pouring blood down onto her evening gown. The site of Seven’s injury escalated B’Elanna’s fury. She turned and tackled Walker before he managed to get completely to his feet. The two fell to floor and Torres proceeded to pommel the Ensign. Seven watched in stunned silence, breathing heavily as she felt the dizziness begin to decline. She realized the Engineer was probably inflicting serious harm and decided she should intervene. She managed to stand, and as she was pulling the growling Torres off of Walker, Seven was further surprised to see two security officers invade her quarters. She suddenly wished she were still in her cargo bay. Seven wondered how anyone got any sleep in the crew quarters.

"Back off," yelled Torres as the two security officers put her in a control hold. B’Elanna struggled to get free as Walker tried to stand.

"What’s going on here?" Lieutenant Fredricks, the ranking security officer, asked Torres.

"That bastard attacked Seven," Torres yelled.

Fredricks turned to Seven, only then seeing the blood. "We should get you to sick bay, ma’am." Fredricks released Torres and motioned for Ensign Black, the other security officer, to do the same.

Walker straightened his uniform. "I was having a little quality time with Seven when Torres burst in here and went crazy. I want her arrested."

"Incorrect," Seven said, "The time I spent with him had no quality. In fact, he attempted to end my life."

"She’s not even human," Walker said. Before anyone saw her move, Torres’ fist connected with Walker’s jaw. He toppled over, and to Seven’s surprise, neither security officer attempted to catch him. Walker slammed into the ground and made no movement to stand.

Seven eyed him. "I believe it was your behavior that lacked humanity."

Fifteen minutes later, Walker had been sent to the brig and Seven was in sickbay with B’Elanna at her side. The Doctor was trying to assess her condition, but she was not cooperating. She was more interested in talking to Fredricks and she was also beginning to feel more pronounced effects from her consumption of the alcohol.

"Lieutenant Fredricks, I would appreciate it if you would not inform the captain of tonight’s incident until the morning," Seven said. Torres and the Doctor spun in unison, but Fredricks was merely puzzled.

"Why?" he asked. "It’s standard practice to notify the captain immediately whenever a Class One Felony is reported."

"As the ‘victim,’ I would find it comforting," Seven said. Seven liked Fredricks; she thought he was a kind man. Seven found it odd that she seemed to notice things like that at the moment. Alcohol was indeed a curious substance.

"Well," Fredricks said, "I guess it won’t matter if we don’t notify her until she gets the morning report."

"Thank you," Seven said. B’Elanna had been watching in stunned silence. She had expected Seven to want the captain’s support.

"Ma’am?" Fredricks asked the tipsy Borg, "How much have you had to drink tonight?"

"I have had eight brandies and a half glass of champagne," Seven said after a moment to calculate her intake.

B’Elanna stepped forward and grabbed Fredricks. "What the hell are you asking her that for? Walker busted into her quarters and attacked her. It doesn’t matter how much she had to drink." B’Elanna was also feeling the pronounced effects from her own alcohol.

"I agree, but I need it for the report, and," he said with a smirk. "I just wanted to know because I would have expected her to throttled him herself."

"Oh," B’Elanna said. Then his words finished processing in B’Elanna’s own intoxicated mind. Seven was drunk, very drunk. "Why was she drinking so much, and doing it alone?"

The Doctor cut in. "I need to treat her. You’ll have to ask the rest of your questions later." He scanned the Borg after removing the towel someone had pressed to her cheek.

"I’m done for tonight. I can ask my questions when you’re not busy bleeding," Fredricks said. "I’ll need to finish up the report in the morning."

"Acceptable," Seven said. She watched him leave and then turned to the Doctor expectantly. "Are you almost done?"

"I just started," he said indignantly. He was frowning more than usual as he looked at his readings. B’Elanna noticed and moved closer. "Well," he said. "Not only do I have to mend the laceration, but you have a cracked cheekbone as well."

"I’m gonna’ kill that bastard," B’Elanna said.

"No," Seven said as she tried to focus on her blurry, weaving, protective Klingon friend. "If you kill him, you will be incarcerated, then I will have no one to talk to." Seven’s voice was as dismal as the Doctor or B’Elanna had ever heard.

"Seven," the Doctor began, "I need to document your injuries for the security report. Then I think you may need counseling. You’ve been through a traumatic event."

"I will adapt," Seven said. It would have sounded completely Borg except she slurred every word.

B’Elanna edged closer to Seven. "Doc, why don’t you get her patched up and I’ll make sure she gets home. Okay?"

"Hmmp," he responded.

B’Elanna and Seven decided to stay in Torres’ quarters. They realized Seven shouldn’t go back to the scene of the crime so soon. They had staggered through the ship with their arms draped over each other’s shoulders looking like a giant drunken crab, weaving from one side of the corridor to the other. Once they made it to B’Elanna’s quarters, Seven slumped onto the chair in the corner.

"Seven, What happened tonight?" B’Elanna asked as she stood with her hands perched on her hips, swaying in front of the exdrone.

Seven eyed B’Elanna and began to speak but stopped, then tried again, but stopped, finally she spoke, her words slurred and bathed in confusion. "You are aware of the altercation with Ensign Walker are you not? Have you suffered a memory loss? Alcohol consumption can do that."

"No," B’Elanna slurred. "What happened before that?"

Seven straightened her back, for a minute B’Elanna thought she was going to say something directly from the Borg collective handbook. Torres was not ready for the response she received.

"Kathryn broke up with me," Seven said. And then B’Elanna watched as Seven burst into tears, stood up, pulled B’Elanna forcefully to her and sobbed, her grip intensifying with each sob or sniffle. B’Elanna found herself surgically attached to the drunken Borg. After several minutes B’Elanna escaped Seven’s vice like grip and stepped back. She looked at the blood stained dress and her very drunken friend.

"Seven, why don’t you take a shower and I’ll get you something to sleep in." B’Elanna eyed her couch deciding it would be the best place for Voyager’s Chief Engineer to spend the night.

"I do not wear clothing while I sleep," Seven wispily volunteered. "Unlike regeneration, I prefer to have my movements unrestricted during sleep."

"You will tonight," B’Elanna said. "Too much information," the Engineer thought, "Do not go there. Come on, B’Elanna... Picture naked Nelix... running ..."

Seven sniffled and nodded. "I will comply." She abruptly turned and went to the bathroom.

Torres watched and then went to one of her boxes on the floor and dug around until she found a pair of sweats and an oversized shirt that belonged to Tom. It would have to do. "Well, at least I don’t have to see her in one of the sexy nightgowns I helped her pick out yesterday," Torres thought. She quickly heard the sonic shower turn off. Even drunk, Seven was efficient.

"What should I wear to sleep in?" Seven asked.

B’Elanna stood and stepped away from the packing box then turned to give Seven the clothes. Seven of Nine was standing in the doorway completely naked with her golden hair hanging down around her face. The effect was striking.

"Shit," B’Elanna said as she spun back around. "Here," B’Elanna said as she stabbed the clothes in Seven’s direction. She felt the exBorg take them and then heard Seven sobbing. B’Elanna turned carefully around and tried not to look at her nude, crying friend. "Seven, what’s wrong?"

"I repulse you," Seven said in a combination of a sob and a slur.

"You don’t repulse me," B’Elanna said, though she would only look at Seven’s feet. "Even her feet are sexy," the Engineer noted.

"You will not look at me," Seven pointed out.

"It’s not appropriate for me to look at you. Not when you’re naked," B’Elanna snapped.

"Why? We are both female. I am aware of the social taboo for members of the opposite sex viewing each other in the nude, but I was not aware the taboo included people of the same gender. Is this a Klingon thing?" Seven asked.

"No," Torres said. She was trying not to shift her gaze but somehow she was now looking at Seven’s knees and thighs.

"Explain," demanded the naked Borg.

"Shit, Seven. Get a clue, will you? I’m attracted to you. Okay? It’s damn hard to talk to you when you’re prancing around here naked." B’Elanna was still taking a long stare at Seven’s shapely thighs. "Damn, what I would love to do with those legs," she thought. "Naked Nelix..."

Seven was shocked. She had no idea that B’Elanna found her appealing. "You are not repulsed?"

"Kahless, no." B’Elanna said, releasing a long, frustrated sigh.

"By the way, I do not ‘prance,’" Seven said, trying to shake a finger at the Klingon, but in her present condition it swayed side to side more like a new cadet targeting a class two hand phaser.

B’Elanna smiled, and then the Chief Engineer made the mistake of looking up at Seven’s face. Well, she had meant to look at her face, she really did. Unfortunately, her eyes seemed to stall at the former Borg’s ample chest. B’Elanna blushed and turned away.

"You are repulsed," Seven said accusingly.

B’Elanna spun and put her hands defiantly on her hips. "Stop saying that. I’m trying to show you some respect. Now, why don’t you show me some respect and put some damn clothes on." Torres pointed to the other room.

"I did not realize I was being disrespectful." Seven turned and went into the bedroom giving the still intoxicated Torres a prolonged view of the Borg’s very well shaped, very naked behind. Seven came back out after a few minutes. It took her awhile because for some reason the tipsy Borg couldn’t manage to get her leg in the pants without falling over. "Is this better?" Seven asked holding her arms away from her body to show B’Elanna the outfit.

"Yes," Torres said, though she thought Seven still looked entirely too sexy. "She just got attacked and you’re lusting after her?" B’Elanna scolded herself. She decided to change the subject. "Seven," B’Elanna said as she guided Seven to the couch. "I know you’re upset about what happened with the captain, and you don’t seem to want to talk about it, but, well, about what Walker did? It’s gotta’ be upsetting you too..."

"In-cor-rect," Seven said and poked B’Elanna’s chest on each syllable for emphasis. "I am not upset about Ensign Walker. As you say, ‘he is a dick.’"

B’Elanna laughed. The term sounded silly coming out of Seven’s mouth. "Yes, he is."

"As for what happened with Kathryn, I did not know emotion could cause this amount of physical discomfort. It is not logical," she slurred. Tears formed at the edge of the blonde’s eyes.

B’Elanna moved over and pulled Seven to her. They sat on the couch for a long time. Torres just held Seven as she cried. Occasionally Torres would gently stroke her friend’s silky hair, trying desperately to not think about how much she wanted the woman. For the most part it worked. B’Elanna wasn’t one to get turned on by seeing someone she cared about sobbing her way through a broken heart. But every once in a while, Seven would shift her hold on the Klingon, and twice the blonde let her hand drift down to unconsciously cup the Engineer’s breast. It took all of B’Elanna’s willpower to gently guide Seven’s hand away. Finally Seven stopped crying and B’Elanna realized her drunken friend was exhausted.

"Come on, Seven, up you go. It’s time to get some sleep." She guided the drowsy Borg to the bedroom and lowered her to the bed. B’Elanna tucked in Seven of Nine, resident Borg drone, with decidedly non-Klingon compassion. Then B’Elanna placed a gentle, platonic kiss on Seven forehead. "Good night, my drunk drone."

"Please don’t leave," Seven said. "I do not think I can sleep alone." Seven didn’t know how she knew this fact, but she realized she found B’Elanna’s presence soothing in a way she hadn’t known before. The thought of enduring her pain without the Engineer’s warm body pressed against hers was very distasteful.

B’Elanna was sure that she was in the middle of a nightmare. Now she was expected to sleep beside the object of her attraction. "What the hell is next?" she wondered. "Okay," she said as she eased into the very small bed next to the very large Borg. "Maybe Seven will be content to sleep next to me," B’Elanna hoped. Before B’Elanna had called down the lights, Seven draped across the Klingon, pinning her to the bed with one leg across her hip and an arm securing her across the chest, and her blonde hair cascading across the Klingon’s chest and face. "Shit," B’Elanna thought. "Well at least she never brought up my little slip of the tongue earlier." B’Elanna had one thing to be thankful for.

"B’Elanna?" Seven said into the Klingon’s bosom.

"Yes?" the Klingon answered as she blew Seven’s hair away from her mouth.

"Are you really attracted to me?"

"Piss. Shit. Damn." B’Elanna thought. But the overheating Engineer calmly said, "Uh, yes."

"Then why did you help me court Kathryn?"

"Because you love her," B’Elanna said.

"Yet you were assuring the failure of you own attraction..." the former drone pointed out.

"Yeah, well, that’s the way things work sometimes." B’Elanna said.

"B’Elanna, you are a good friend," Seven said.

"Thanks." The Chief Engineer sighed in the darkness. Kahless himself couldn’t have predicted her ending up in her current dilemma. B’Elanna knew she couldn’t.

"B’Elanna?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever been attracted to any other women on Voyager?"

"Should I tell her I had the hots for the captain for the first two years on Voyager?" B’Elanna wondered. "Probably not." So, the Klingon edited out that little bit of data, "Well, I guess Nicolletti is okay."

Seven wriggled closer. "Yes, she has a very ‘nice rack.’"

"I wish I’d never told you that term. I meant she’s intelligent and easy to talk to." B’Elanna groaned. "I’ve created a monster... a very drunk monster." The Klingon sighed. "Unfortunately, I don’t think Nicolletti dates women," B’Elanna added.

"Unfortunate," Seven said into B’Elanna’s full breast.

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"I just did," Seven said as she yawned without restraint. "B’Elanna, Prior to my falling in love with Kathryn, there was only one other member of the crew I had ever experienced sexual attraction to."

"Oh?" B’Elanna had all she could handle and the gods just kept shoveling it onto her. "Great, now I get to hear about the other person on board who she wants. I really don’t need this."

"Yes," Seven said as she settled down on top of the engineer. "You."

"Oh," B’Elanna said. "What the hell am I supposed to do with that little piece of information?" she wondered, then "Naked running Nelix," became B’Elanna’s silent mantra.

B’Elanna Torres awoke to find her Klingon hormones fully charged. A deft hand was kneading her breast and tugging at her hardening nipple. The Engineer moaned as she swam toward consciousness. She opened her eyes and the light from the passing stars revealed a full head of long, very blonde hair draped across her. "Shit," B’Elanna thought. She could see that the Borg was in the middle of an erotic dream. She eased her hand down the blonde’s back to try to wake her and realized that Seven wasn’t wearing a shirt. She jerked away from her bedmate and scooted to the edge of the bed. Seven inhaled deeply and opened her eyes. She was disoriented. B’Elanna noticed from the time on the clock that she and Seven had only been in bed for about forty minutes, which meant Seven of Nine was still plastered.

"B’Elanna?" Seven asked.

"Seven, where the hell is your shirt?"

Seven sat up and let the blanket fall away from her body as she slowly stretched her arm over her head and yawned. "It was confining, so I took it off."

"I think I should sleep on the couch," Torres said.

Seven didn’t like that idea. "Computer, lights," the former Borg said. B’Elanna suddenly got a very well lit view of what she had been trying not to see in the lowered illumination. The Engineer looked down and picked at the lint on the blanket.

Seven reached out and stopped B’Elanna’s hand. "Are you sure you are not disgusted by my appearance?"

"I’m positive," she said with a snarl thrown in for good measure. "You’d think with all the billions assimilated, one of them would have had some modesty," B’Elanna thought.

"Then look at me," Seven said. "Really look at me."

"Well... She asked for it," the Klingon told herself. B’Elanna brought her gaze up and looked at Seven’s exposed upper body. There were prominent signs of the Borg atrocities she had endured, but the implants did nothing to tarnish the young woman’s perfection. "Wow," B’Elanna said without realizing.

Seven’s eyes widened, "You still think I have a ‘nice rack?’ Even with the disfigurement and implants?"

B’Elanna cringed at Seven’s use of the Klingon’s rather graphic euphemism for the Borg’s breasts. "You’re beautiful, Seven," B’Elanna said honestly.

"Even with the circuitry? Kathryn was repulsed by it," Seven said quietly.

"What circuitry?" B’Elanna’s eyes finally reached Seven’s arctic blue eyes.

"On my breast," Seven said as if she thought the Engineer was blind.

"I’ll tell you what," the still highly intoxicated B’Elanna said. She took Seven’s hands and placed them over the Borg’s rose petal tinted nipples that were stiffening in the night chill, "You cover up these bad boys, and I’ll take a closer look." "Oh, the sacrifices I make for womankind," B’Elanna thought with an evil grin.

Seven raised her eyebrows. "My breasts are merely extensions of my body and my chromosomal make up prohibits them from being male."

"Don’t get so literal. Now, where exactly is all of this circuitry?" B’Elanna tried to shift into her most scientific mode.

"Right here," Seven pointed with her chin since her hands were occupied holding her ‘bad boys.’

B’Elanna was beginning to actually take a scientific interest. "I can barely see. Computer, increase illumination by twenty-five percent." She leaned closer and could make out a very faint matrix under Seven’s skin. "If the captain saw this, then she and Seven got a lot farther along than I realized," the Engineer decided.

"Do you now understand why Kathryn was disgusted by my breasts?"

"Not unless she’s an idiot."

"Kathryn is not an idiot," Seven snapped.

"I know, I just mean, there is absolutely nothing unappealing about your breasts." If B’Elanna didn’t know Seven better, she would have sworn the blonde was digging for compliments.

"Perhaps it is your interest in Engineering that makes you appreciate my breasts," Seven suggested.

"Believe me, my appreciation has nothing to do with Engineering." B’Elanna stared at the matrix and then her Engineering curiosity did get the best of her. She steadied herself by touching Seven’s waist, just below the Borg ribbing that encompassed her abdomen. B’Elanna’s touch made the former Borg squirm. "Did I hurt you?" B’Elanna asked, realizing the metal banding just under the surface of the skin might be tender.

"No, it feels, odd. It makes me feel like, laughing."

"Well, my little drone," B’Elanna teased, "You’re ticklish."

"Explain."

B’Elanna proceed to run her fingers across Seven’s tender belly. The Borg squirmed in protest. "That is ticklish," B’Elanna said as she continuing her attack on Seven’s belly. "When you get touched in certain areas, you giggle." B’Elanna rather enjoyed the drunken Borg. Perhaps the next time they encountered a Borg sphere they should try beaming over a few thousand cases of brandy.

"Borg do not giggle," Seven insisted, even as she did indeed giggle.

"Right, and they don’t get drunk either. Now, where were we?"

"I was holding my ‘bad boys’ and you were examining my circuitry," Seven said as she finally managed to control her ‘giggles.’

The Engineer winced at Seven’s new catch phrase. B’Elanna leaned down until she was a breath away from Seven’s skin and twisted her head trying to understand the structure beneath the skin. "What’s it for?’ she finally asked.

"It ties my Human circulatory system into my Borg detoxification system. It is very efficient." Seven noticed B’Elanna’s analytical expression. She understood the value of scientific research. "B’Elanna, you may touch me if you wish."

Before the still intoxicated Torres thought, she reached out and pressed the pads of her fingers on Seven’s breast. She had expected the Borg implant to make it hard, unyielding, and cold, like a part of the ship’s hull. It was not. Seven’s flesh was soft and deliciously pliable and warm, so warm. B’Elanna inhaled a sharp breath at the intimate shock that shot through her body. B’Elanna Torres’ Klingon half was kicking in and she felt her muscles tremble and her mouth water. She knew she should pull away, but just as she started to, Seven leaned forward into her hand.

"Oh, gods," B’Elanna whispered.

Seven closed her eyes and her head tilted forward. Then her chest heaved as she tried to fight back the tears that were starting to form.

B’Elanna pulled Seven to her chest, "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that." She tried to comfort her topless friend but the silk of her skin was making the Klingon’s hands catch fire.

Seven wrapped her arms around B’Elanna and she shook her head against Torres. "No, I am sorry. I feel so empty without Kathryn, and the way you looked at me... She will never look at me that way, and there is nothing I want more."

"Shhh... " B’Elanna said. "I’m here."

Seven of Nine, former drone was adrift. Her heart was lost to Kathryn, and it was a love that could never be. Seven wanted to feel Kathryn’s lips, but knew she never would. She wanted to feel Kathryn’s passionate caress, but knew she never would. She wanted to feel the heat of Kathryn’s eyes beholding her with reverence, but knew she never would. Annika Hansen had ‘joined’ the Collective as a child, and she had always had the comfort of the voices, now she had only silence. Silence, and her surprising new friend, B’Elanna Torres.

Seven eased back, "B’Elanna?"

"Yeah?" B’Elanna asked as she wiped Seven’s eyes. She leaned closer until their foreheads were almost touching.

"I don’t want to be alone." Tears drifted down her porcelain cheeks as she squeezed her eyes closed.

B’Elanna cradled Seven’s face in both hands. "You’re not alone. I’m right here." B’Elanna lifted her lips and kissed each of Seven’s eyes. She had meant it as a tender, comforting gesture, but the salt of her tears tasted like sweat and B’Elanna’s primal Klingon physiology was putting the sable haired woman’s body into full arousal. Klingon bloodlust was all consuming. It was like being trapped in that one instant before sexual release, except it offered only urgency and none of the euphoria. In a word, it was torture. The only relief came in the tasting of a lover’s blood, which allowed the orgasmic bliss to flow unchecked for the duration of the sexual experience. But, B’Elanna fought valiantly and only moved to Seven’s forehead and let her lips linger there instead of moving down to the full mouth she craved. B’Elanna glanced at the nightstand and saw Seven’s discarded tee shirt and reached over and retrieved it for her friend.

"Thank you," Seven said as she put it over her head. "I apologize for touching you in my sleep. Dreaming is still new to me. I sometimes cannot distinguish my dreams from reality when I first awaken."

"It’s okay, Seven. I’m sure I’ll get over it," B’Elanna said. "After a three hour cold shower," she added in her mind.

B’Elanna called for the lights and then they reclined in the darkness. B’Elanna listened to her bedmate; apparently the exdrone couldn’t sleep either. The young Borg was restless, tossing from side to side. B’Elanna’s eyes remained open as she pondered what she was going to do. The only thing she knew for sure was that she couldn’t do what her body wanted most of all, to climb onto Seven and ravish her until her shift started in the morning. No, that wasn’t gonna’ happen. Back to the naked Nelix mantra.

Ten minutes later a drowsy but still aroused Torres was beginning to surrender to slumber when she felt her bedmate shift beside her yet again.

"Seven?" she whispered. "You awake?"

"Mmmm hmm... I need you..." Seven said in a husky whisper. Then the lanky blonde climbed onto B’Elanna’s chest and began kissing a very dumbfounded Klingon hybrid.

B’Elanna tried to push Seven back, but her Klingon bloodlust was in hyper-drive. She managed to mumble her question between their intertwined lips, "MmmSeven? Mmmhat are you mmmoing?" Seven’s hand found B’Elanna’s breast and the Engineer forgot her questions. She kissed the Borg back with enthusiasm. Her hands drifted up and dug into Seven’s hair and she pulled the blonde’s mouth down onto hers in a crushing press. Seven tumbled into the kiss. The Klingon was lost too, she was still reeling from her alcohol earlier, and the feel of Seven’s lips on hers was too much. "So what if the captain dated Seven?" her Klingon side reasoned. "She dumped her. She needs to feel wanted... and I want her." Seven broke off the kiss and moved to B’Elanna’s neck.

"Oh gods, yes, Seven," B’Elanna growled. She shifted her weight and managed to flip both of them over so that she was on top and began devouring Seven’s throat. The Klingon half of B’Elanna now ruled her body and soul. B’Elanna tossed her own shirt off in a flurry and she went back to Seven’s neck. "You’re so beautiful, Seven," B’Elanna said in a husky whisper. "Gods, I want to you." B’Elanna’s hand migrated to the breasts she had been aching to touch. The Klingon groaned as she felt the hot weight of Seven’s perfect breasts. She captured a nipple between her fingers and thought she would pass out as she felt the flesh harden at her touch.

"Yessss," Seven moaned. Her voice was distant and euphoric in the dim illumination. "Take me...Show me I’m beautiful."

B’Elanna was losing herself in the tide of passion that surged through her veins with every pounding of her pulse. Her hand moved down and began slipping under the elastic band of Seven’s sweats as her mouth found Seven’s shoulder and began to kiss, then nip the tender flesh. The Klingon felt her stomach fill with electric butterflies as she felt the top of the coarse hair tickle her finger tips. B’Elanna licked her lips and snarled as she prepared to bury her teeth in Seven’s shoulder and release herself from her torture with the sweetness of Seven’s blood.

Seven moaned. "Oh... yes... yes... Oh yes, Kathryn..."

B’Elanna’s jagged teeth broke the ivory skin and she tasted Seven’s blood at the same instant she heard the woman under her calling out the captain’s name. B’Elanna’s eyes shot open and her hand yanked out of the blonde’s sweats just as she heard Seven’s voice again.

"Ouch!" the former Borg screamed in response to the wound Voyager’s Chief Engineer had just deposited on her shoulder.

The taste of Seven’s blood was making B’Elanna’s head swim in an overpowering sexual release, but some tiny part of her registered the horror of what Seven’s simple words meant. Seven was still dreaming, or had been, and it had not been about B’Elanna. The Klingon jerked back, still straddling the exdrone, and appalled at the entire situation. A few more inches lower with her fingers, and she would have known Seven quite well.

"Computer lights," B’Elanna yelled. The lights came up and B’Elanna looked down at a blinking Seven of Nine. Seven stared at an exceptionally topless and aroused B’Elanna for several moments as the realization overtook her.

Seven’s face drained of what little color it had. "B’Elanna?..."

"Son of bitc..." B’Elanna bit off her words as she clumsily extracted herself off of the former Borg drone and scanned the room until she saw her shirt, which she quickly put back on.

Seven’s lip quivered and she rolled away from B’Elanna’s gaze. She covered her face with her hands and began to weep. Seven of Nine was getting very tired of humanity, and alcohol seemed to make matters worse. She longed for the unemotional, sober, harmony of the Collective.

B’Elanna Torres felt like the biggest jerk that ever lived. "Seven, I sorry." She edged closer to see if Seven was all right. After several moments, Seven rolled over and faced her friend.

"It is not you fault. I kissed you."

"No, I should have known you were just reacting to how much you miss the captain, that you were dreaming. Can you forgive me?"

Seven was gathering her composure. Oddly, the one thing alcohol did do was make the strangest tragedies quickly seem humorous. "How very curious." She sat up and looked at her friend, then motioned for Torres to sit next to her, which she did.

"I initiated the kiss... however, I did not ‘bargain’ for this..." Seven raised an eyebrow and added a smirk as she pointed at her bleeding shoulder.

"I’m sorry," B’Elanna looked down. "I don’t think the one you meant to be kissing would have given it to you."

"You ‘never know,’" Seven said softly. B’Elanna’s head shot up and she saw that Seven was smiling. B’Elanna noticed that even after everything she’d been through, the drunken Seven of Nine smiled a lot. Torres liked the way it changed the blonde’s whole appearance. It made her adorable, not a description most would use for the aloof Borg drone.

"Uh..." B’Elanna began. "I have a rather delicate question... Have you... well, you seemed to know what you were doing... Have you ever been with someone?"

"No," Seven said.

B’Elanna’s opinion of herself just sank lower, if that was possible. She had almost taken something precious from her friend in a drunken haze. "I’m sorry. This shouldn’t have happened this way." B’Elanna discovered that self-loathing thoroughly extinguished Klingon bloodlust.

"You must remember that I initiated this encounter, B’Elanna." Seven said gently.

"No, I need to remember, we need to remember, that we’re both still drunk. We got carried away."

"Carried away? Yes, that was a good description for the events that just took place." Seven thought about her actions, and then pulled the blankets around her. "How could I have done that to Kathryn?"

"Well, in your defense, you were asleep, and, well, ...the captain did dump you," Torres offered.

"Yes, she did." Seven felt another round of tears lining up to fall.

"Hey," B’Elanna said as she turned to Seven. "Shh, I know you’re going through hell right now. I’m here for you... I just don’t think I should be there for you, if you know what I mean." B’Elanna pointed to matted sheets.

Seven cracked a tiny smile. "Agreed."

"I’ll take the couch," B’Elanna said.

"You can sleep here. I will ‘behave.’"

After a nanosecond of consideration, B’Elanna took the couch.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Kathryn Janeway had stalked through the bridge directly to her ready room without even a word the bridge crew. She was two hours early, and no one on the graveyard shift wanted to interrupt her. They assumed she had been informed of the attack in the crew quarters. They were wrong. Janeway had come in early because she couldn’t sleep, every time she closed her eyes she saw Seven in the holodeck, with tears forming at the edges of her eyes. The captain paced around her ready room having a heated internal dialogue. Her heart was cussing out the captain, and the captain wasn’t putting up much of a fight, she had been an idiot, and she knew it. Something she did let Seven know that she was feeling conflicted, and Seven interpreted it to mean she didn’t want to date her. Worse still, Janeway let her believe it. The captain was a coward. She used the opportunity to run screaming out of the relationship, and worst of all, she had hurt Seven deeply.

"Damn," she said as she sat down at her desk. She would look over the night’s incident reports. That would get her mind off of Seven. Janeway scanned the Engineering report, nothing new. Then Astrometrics, nothing new, but it made her heart ache, reminding her of Seven. Finally Janeway got to the security report. Janeway expected to see the usual, complaints about noise in the crew quarters, or maybe someone sleeping off too much ale. She open the data padd file and felt her face turn ashen. She read the account, though it was a vague preliminary report, it told her enough:

The captain stared at the report, frozen, unable to put the padd down. Finally, Janeway stood and made her way toward her door. It opened and she almost ran into Tuvok, who was on his way to her office.

"Captain, a word with you, if I may?"

"Not now, Tuvok," she snapped.

"I believe it cannot wait," he insisted.

She looked up at him. "I have to go find–"

"Seven," he finished her sentence. "I believe it would be prudent to speak with me first."

She glared at him, but turned around. "All right, but make it fast." They went into her ready room and she turned to face him, her hands gripping her hips with enough force to bruise her skin. "What the hell happened? Why wasn’t I notified last night? Who was on duty? Don’t you teach your people protocol? The captain is supposed to be notified as soon as a Class One Felony is reported."

Tuvok eyed his longtime friend and raised an eyebrow. He knew she didn’t actually expect answers to each of the questions she was rattling off, but he tried to ‘hit the highlights.’

"Lieutenant Fredricks took the report of the alleged attack. He bypassed the normal notification of you... at the request of the victim. As for what happened, Seven of Nine was in her quarters her when Ensign Walker forced his way in and assaulted her."

"Is there a reason you’re keeping me here when I should be checking on Annika?"

"Actually..." He sighed. He did not appreciate dealing with human romantic entanglements. "I was wondering why you were not with her last night."

"That’s not any of your business," Janeway snapped, already irrationally feeling responsible for Seven’s injuries.

"My point, captain," he said evenly, "is that if there is some problem between the two of you, it may not be best for you to approach her at this time."

"Excuse me?" Janeway’s chilled voice would have frozen most crewmembers where they stood, but not Tuvok.

"She has been traumatized. It would not be prudent to aggravate her condition further," he with absolute calm.

"I am not going to aggravate her condition. I’m the captain, and a member of my crew was attacked. I have to see her."

"Brutally attacked," Tuvok amended. "From what Lieutenant Fredericks has reported, it was indeed fortuitous that Lieutenant Torres was able to intervene."

Janeway’s mind was imagining the absolute worst case scenario. She pictured her beloved Annika and cringed. "How did he overpower her, Tuvok? She’s the strongest person on the ship."

"Apparently, she was intoxicated... Exceptionally intoxicated."

Janeway wondered just how far the attack went. "Thank god for B’Elanna."

"Yes," Tuvok said, though he was certain Seven’s rescue had more to do with random chance and Lieutenant Torres’ known propensity for finding trouble than any deity. "Apparently Ensign Walker struck Seven with one the large data padds... repeatedly."

"I have to go see her," Janeway said as she pushed past her longtime friend.

Seven of Nine awoke and decided that she must have ingested a large, dirty piece of clothing at some point during the previous night, or perhaps part of the bedding. Her mouth tasted... well, like nothing she had ever experienced before, and her tongue felt as if it had grown fur. She tried to sit up and realized that she was in B’Elanna’s quarters, or more precisely, B’Elanna’s bed. Slowly, the events of the previous night came into focus, and Seven wished they hadn’t. Kathryn had ‘dumped her,’ Seven had gotten ‘drunk,’ Ensign Walker had ‘assaulted’ her, and B’Elanna had almost ‘mated’ with her. All in all, it had been a full evening. Seven then registered that she had a rather pronounced ‘headache,’ but it was different from the ones she had experienced from the Borg repellent. She slowly stood and discovered that she thought she might project the contents of her stomach into the room. Perhaps ‘yakking’ referred to vomiting while one’s tongue was covered in fur. She carefully sat back down.

"Seven?" B’Elanna asked as she leaned into the room. "Are you still alive?"

Seven raised her eyes and saw a rather green faced B’Elanna Torres hanging on the doorframe.

"Of course. Why would you ask such a question?"

"You’re being literal again, Seven." B’Elanna was happy to note that Seven was still wearing the oversized shirt she had put back on the night before. "How do you feel?"

Seven considered her response. Physically, she felt terrible, and emotionally, she felt worse. "I suddenly understand your first question."

"Yeah, well, I feel like crap, too. Just let me get into the bathroom and I’ll fix us both up." B’Elanna walked into the bathroom trying desperately to keep her head from bouncing. "Don’t move," she ordered the Borg. That wasn’t a problem since Seven was certain if she shifted her weight in any direction she would either pass out or vomit.

Seven raised an eyebrow and found that even the thin line of hair cresting her brow hurt. A moment later B’Elanna emerged with a hypospray and sat next to Seven. She reached toward the former Borg, but Seven stopped her hand.

"What is that?" Seven said, careful not to move her head as she spoke.

"Hangover remedy. It’ll fix you up in no time."

"I thought the Doctor gave you strict instructions not to treat your own medical conditions," Seven said pointedly.

"That was for injuries, broken bones, bruises, that kind of thing. Not hangovers."

"Very well. I will trust you." B’Elanna injected the young Borg and Seven felt immediately better. Seven turned to her with a look of surprise.

"Told you," B’Elanna said. "Just don’t mention it to anyone..."

"Why?"

"Well, it’s not exactly a medically approved treatment..."

"Do I want to know where it came from?" Seven asked.

"No."

Seven didn’t trust medicine in the best of times, but she couldn’t argue with the results. "Thank you."

"You’re welcome," B’Elanna tossed the hypospray onto the bed and crossed her arms over her chest. "So, are we gonna’ talk about last night?" Seven suddenly found the carpet of B’Elanna’s bedroom quite interesting. She began counting the threads. B’Elanna tried again. "Seven?"

"You regret kissing me," Seven stated. "Why is it that every woman I kiss ends up regretting it?" she wondered. Seven regretted kissing B’Elanna, but only because she felt like she was betraying Kathryn. B’Elanna had said she was attracted to her, so theoretically, she should have enjoyed it.

B’Elanna leaned down and looked into Seven’s downcast eyes. "I don’t. I just didn’t want it to happen when we were both drunk, you were thinking I was some else, and on the rebound."

"Re-bound?" Seven asked as she pursed her lips.

"You just got dumped," Torres said bluntly. "It makes you vulnerable to jumping into another relationship."

"Well," Seven said. "I did climb onto you rather aggressively, but I did not jump onto you at any time..."

"Seven..."

"Although, I was about to at one point, so I believe your assessment is correct."

"Seven," B’Elanna yelled. "You’re being literal again. The point is, you still have feelings for the captain."

"Yes, I love Kathryn," Seven readily agreed.

"I know."

"B’Elanna?" Seven asked. Her voice had suddenly turned sad.

"Yes?"

"Why doesn’t Kathryn want me?"

B’Elanna wondered if she could slink under her bed without Seven seeing her. The last remnants of her hangover were nagging her, and now she was expected to explain to Seven why love can crash and burn despite the best intentions. "Listen, Seven, I don’t know what’s goin’ on with the captain. You should ask her."

"I thought she loved me, but apparently her abhorrence of my appearance is too intense."

"Are you sure? That doesn’t sound like the captain. She doesn’t get hung up outward appearances." B’Elanna put her arm around Seven. "And, there’s nothing remotely wrong with your appearance. Believe me, I got a pretty good look last night."

Seven blushed. "I also ‘got a pretty good look’ last night."

B’Elanna sighed. "I guess that makes us even."

"Yes, except that I have a Borg enhanced memory and can access those memory any time I choose."

"What?" B’Elanna said as her face began to pale.

"Do not worry, I will be discrete," Seven promised with a hint of mischief in her tone.

B’Elanna tossed Seven back onto the bed and tickled the Borg. Seven squealed and tried half heartedly to escape. In truth, she enjoyed the rough play with her friend.

"Discrete? Discrete?" B’Elanna taunted. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?" Seven tried to answer, but she was sucking in her breath and fighting the urge to giggle. Borg drones did not giggle. After a few more minutes of roughhousing, B’Elanna released her victim and Seven sat up adjust her shirt that had ridden up.

"B’Elanna," Seven said sincerely, "I never would have expected to enjoy your company as much as I have. Despite going through the worst experience of my life, I am sitting here, with a hangover, ‘having fun.’ How can that be?"

Torres smacked her friend on the stomach and looked away. It was B’Elanna’s turn to blush. "Yeah, well, I never saw it coming either. As for the having fun part, when your heart gets ripped out, you have to let a little steam off once in a while."

Seven stood. "I think I should take a shower." Seven could tell B’Elanna had endured all the intimate conversation she could handle, actually, so had Seven. Neither woman was well known for her people skills.

"Great, I’ll scare up something eat," the Klingon said, relieved they were done with the serious talk.

"NO," Seven said forcefully, not wanting to risk putting anything into her fragile stomach. "I mean, no thank you. I have no desire to ingest solid nutrition."

"Okay, I’ll get you some tea. You like tea? Right?"

"Yes," Seven said. There was a hint of a smile, but it didn’t transform her face.

"Oh, and Seven, if you use hot water instead of the sonic setting, it should help with the sore muscles from your hangover."

"Thank you. I never expected to be so sore after spending the night with you."

B’Elanna did not want to go there. "Shut up and take your shower."

Seven raised an eyebrow and left.

B’Elanna shook her head and realized she was falling hard for the young blonde. B’Elanna also noted that Seven had again avoided directly talking about what had happened with the captain.

Captain Janeway stalked through the corridors of the crew section. Every crewmember she passed seemed to know to stay clear. The captain didn’t appreciate being the last person on board to find out about the attack on Seven. "Why did she ask Fredricks to not call me?" she asked herself. "Maybe because you broke her heart last night?" She cringed. "How am I going to fix things with Seven?" she pondered. It wasn’t until she asked herself the question that she actually knew she wanted to fix things. She had spent the previous night convincing herself it would be best for Seven if they went their separate ways. That changed as soon as she read the security report. The panic that overtook her made it perfectly clear that she loved Seven with everything she was. "Now, I just have to fix everything I screwed up last night. How hard can that be?" she asked sarcastically. Suddenly, Janeway understood why her sarcasm made people so angry. It was damn annoying. She arrived at Seven’s quarters and tapped the door chime. She knew Seven was an early riser, so she expected the door to open quickly. There was no response, so she tapped it again. Nothing. Now the captain was getting nervous. Maybe something was wrong.

"Computer override door lock, Janeway Delta Delta six four one..."

The door opened and Janeway went in. Her eyes widened as she took in the scattered debris. The coffee table was overturned, and there were broken glasses shattered on the floor. Janeway’s eyes locked on a dark spot on the floor. It was blood, Annika’s blood. Janeway moved to the bedroom door and looked in at Seven’s empty bed, only then realizing, or rather admitting, how inappropriate it was for her to let herself into Annika’s quarters, no matter what her excuse was. Kathryn rubbed her forehead and went back to the other room. She scanned the room like a forensic technician, imagining what each item meant in terms of the crime that was committed there, a crime against her Annika. There was a long, smeared, bloody handprint on the wall, as if someone leaned against it to steady their self. It must have been Seven because there had been no mention of Walker being injured. Kathryn reached out but stopped herself from touching the dark smear. She looked down at the large stains on the floor. There was so much blood. Janeway fought to suppress the images her mind was conjuring up to fit the evidence she was seeing. Kathryn needed to see Seven, to know she was all right. "Maybe Seven returned to the cargo bay," Kathryn decided. Then on impulse, she checked. "Computer, locate Seven of Nine..."

"Seven of Nine is in the quarters of Lieutenant B’Elanna Torres," the computer answered.

"Next door," Kathryn mused. "I’m glad B’Elanna’s looking after her. Someone has to." Janeway headed next door.

Seven of Nine was standing at the replicator getting a second cup of herbal tea while B’Elanna was in the shower. The Doctor had ordered Seven to take the next two days off, so she was in no hurry. She didn’t want to leave yet, that would just mean she would be alone. She had borrowed more clothes from B’Elanna, and was wearing an old tee shirt with a Klingon phrase that roughly translated to ‘Chicks kick ass.’ B’Elanna couldn’t remember where she had acquired the garment. Seven translated the saying and quickly decided it must be the slang form of both nouns because it made no sense if the precise barnyard animal meanings were used. She completed her outfit with a pair of black sweats that also belonged to B’Elanna. The Engineer’s short stature was obvious, the elastic band of the pant legs hitting Seven mid shin.

Seven heard the door chime and assumed it was Lieutenant Fredricks or someone else from Security. They needed to do a follow up interview. Seven went to the door and opened it revealing Captain Janeway standing in the corridor with her hands on her hips.

"Annika, I came to see how you’re doing," Kathryn explained, though it wasn’t necessary. "Can I come in?"

Seven realized that everything around her was buzzing, and her vision was beginning to narrow. She hadn’t expected to see Kathryn so soon. Seven tried to speak, but sound didn’t come out, her mouth opened and closed but her vocal cords refused to produce sound. She motioned for the captain to enter.

Janeway didn’t know how she managed to walk into Torres’ quarters. She couldn’t have any blood moving through her veins because her heart had stopped beating the moment she saw Annika. The two stood near the couch, huddled close together because of the boxes littering the decking limiting the available floor space. Seven leaned onto the arm of the couch bringing her to Kathryn’s eye level.

Finally Janeway broke the awkward silence. "Annika, are you all right?"

Seven looked into Kathryn’s eyes and started to tell her that she was fine, that the Doctor had healed her injuries, but instead she drew in a shallow breath and her lips began to quiver.

Kathryn moved across the distance, leaning into Seven and wrapping her arms around her. "Oh, darling, I’m sorry," Kathryn said in a husky voice. In her mind she added, "I’m sorry he hurt you. I’m sorry I hurt you, and most of all I’m sorry I said those things I didn’t mean. Please forgive me." But outwardly, she just held onto Seven basking in the feeling of Annika’s body against hers, the confirmation of Seven’s safety that the heat of their two bodies provided.

"Kathryn, oh Kathryn..." Seven said again and again. She didn’t know how to tell Kathryn that she wasn’t crying because of Ensign Walker’s assault, but from the overwhelming relief she felt being in the captain’s arms.

"Oh, darling I’m here," Janeway said. And she realized it was true, she was bound to Annika.

Seven pulled back despite her driving need to stay in Kathryn’s arms, but she had to answer a burning question. "You, called me darling... That is a romantic term of endearment..."

Kathryn took the opportunity to look at Annika. She was stunning, even in an oversized shirt and sweats that looked more like knickers. Kathryn reached up and touched Seven’s cheek, the one that had been broken the night before, looking for any sign of the injury.

"Yes, it is. Annika, I’m sorry about last night, and what happened to you in your quarters, I should have done something."

"You could not have stopped Ensign Walker from his malignant actions. B’Elanna told me about his comments, and explained why she moved into these quarters. There was nothing else that could have been done."

"I’m sorry about what happened in the holodeck. I just got scared, and I acted like a fool," Kathryn said.

Seven felt her stomach flip. She didn’t dare let herself believe what her heart wanted more than anything else, but her Borg determination pushed her on. "Are you sorry you ‘dumped me’?"

"Oh, god, yes. Please, forgive me. Annika, please give me another chance. Will you take me back?" Kathryn Janeway’s heart was now on her sleeve, balancing precariously.

Seven pulled Kathryn to her and nodded her head enthusiastically. "Oh, yes."

Kathryn pushed down the tears just below the surface and let her hands caress Seven’s back. She could have stayed there forever, but still had questions. She eased back so she could ask Seven if she had made plans for post-trauma counseling. She never got to ask the question. As she eased back, she saw an injury slightly exposed from under the edge of Seven’s shirt, which had been shifted to one side during their hug. Janeway’s eyed widened.

"Seven, what happened here?" Kathryn asked with a gasp.

Before Seven could stop her, Kathryn eased aside the shirt and looked at the angry, scabbed over set of teeth marks on Seven’s shoulder. Seven hadn’t been able to do anymore than wash the mark B’Elanna had given her the night before because the Doctor forbid B’Elanna’s keeping a dermal regenerator in her quarters after the Engineer had hid a series of injuries.

"Annika, my god..." Janeway touched the mark with gentle, soothing tenderness. Her mind filled with images of Walker pining Seven down and inflicting the injury. "Why didn’t the Doctor heal this?"

Seven thought this would be the appropriate time to use some form of profanity. It had been going so well.

"He didn’t see it," Seven finally said. It was a true statement; he hadn’t seen it.

Janeway’s face darkened. She was scared. "Annika, did you tell the Doctor everything that happened?"

Seven paused to consider her response. As B’Elanna would say, ‘she was screwed.’ "Uh..."

Kathryn was heading for blind panic with a velocity that surpassed warp drive or slip-stream.

"Did you tell the Doctor everything? Did Walker...?" Janeway was afraid to finish the question. "Did he hurt you anywhere else?"

"No..." Seven said. As B’Elanna would say, ‘what else could go wrong?’

B’Elanna Torres chose that moment to come into the living room. She was wearing a towel wrapped around her, and had another tossed over her head vigorously drying her hair. "Seven, the next time you decide to jump me in my own bed, bring a dermal regenerator..." came her muffled, yet playful voice. "The Doctor still won’t let me have one..."

It was definitely time for profanity Seven observed.

Seven saw a look of total disillusionment cover Kathryn’s face. Janeway backed away from the young Borg as if she was species 8472. B’Elanna pulled her towel down and saw Seven blushing deep red, and Kathryn standing beside her as white as any Borg drone.

"Captain," B’Elanna gasped. B’Elanna Torres thought she was going to die. She wished she would. "Uh, captain, this is not what it looks like..."

Captain Janeway sealed her heart behind a duranium wall. "I came to see how Seven was feeling."

Seven tried to say something intelligent, but instead said, "I... Kathryn... B’Elanna and I..."

"I’m glad you’re feeling better, but I really should have left well enough alone concerning what we decided last night."

Seven stood. "No. Kathryn, Please..."

B’Elanna tried damage control. "Captain, no matter how this looks, nothing happened between Seven and I last night."

Seven raised an eyebrow, she wouldn’t call their interaction ‘nothing,’ but she believed she ‘knew what B’Elanna meant.’ "Kathryn, B’Elanna and I did not have a romantic coupling."

"It’s really none of my business. I’m glad you’re okay." Janeway turned and stormed out.

Seven stood staring at the door with her mouth open.

B’Elanna slapped her ridged forehead. "What else can possibly go wrong?"

Part 4