Part 21 - 24

BLONDES/REDHEADS

"I'm so glad those Borg nanoprobes were still viable," Janeway said as she placed the briefcase down on the floor of the guest room. "The Doctor wasn't sure how they would react during the time shift." She sat down on the bed, patting the blue coverlet a clear invitation to the young woman to sit next to her.

Awkwardly, the blonde bent her legs at a 90 degree angle and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Indeed, Captain, my cortical node has assessed the nanoprobes as fully functional. My efficiency rate is close to 81% now..."

"Good. Let me know when you're back to 100%. I'm just very relieved you're all right," Kathryn said, clasping Seven's left hand in hers.

The Borg was surprised. She and the captain shared a personal relationship, playing Velocity together, and spending time in Da Vinci's holoprogram, but they rarely held hands. What did it mean?

"Thanks to your timely arrival, Captain, I am functioning within normal parameters."

"I did cut it rather close." Janeway acknowledged ruefully now that the immediate danger was over.

"Captain, the woman who accompanies you is not a member of Voyager."

"No, that's Kim. She helped me find you, and she's a friend of Kerry's actually."

"So that is Kim," Seven said. The way she pronounced Kim's name made Kathryn wonder if she had formed some previous opinion of the psychiatrist.

"You came on this away mission alone," the Borg continued to quiz her. "Why?"

"I didn't want to risk any other lives. All we knew was you had been whisked away. None of us knew where you might be."

"You should not have risked yourself," the blonde pointed out.

"I had to, Seven," Kathryn said quietly.

The simple words made the hair on Seven's neck stand up. Was it just her nanoprobes suddenly making all her bodily systems more efficient? She felt giddy in the presence of the captain. Her enhanced senses could smell the woman's unique scent, hear the gravelly timbre of her voice and gaze into the eyes that were all blue and no gray. Seven didn't possess the words to convey her emotions. She couldn't even identify the myriad emotions flooding her cortical implant. Just holding Kathryn's long, slim fingers against hers sent her nerve endings into flux.

"Thank you for finding me."

Kathryn squeezed her hand, causing a delicious sensation to go through Seven's body. "And now we still need to find a way back to Voyager."

"What is your plan, Captain?" Seven asked with such a show of confidence that Janeway laughed.

The sound sent a delicious shiver down Seven's spine.

"I wish I knew. Chakotay will be setting off power bursts to cause ionic storms at 0600,1200, 1800 and 2400 hours. We may be able to ride the temporal disturbance back to our correct time."

"You have been in communication with Commander Chakotay?"

Janeway shook her head. "He may have moved the ship out of range for some reason. We'll try as soon as we leave here."

"Leave here?" The blue eyes widened with genuine dismay. Abruptly, Seven dropped Kathryn's hand and rose from the bed, walking over to the bureau where she picked up the Cubs baseball cap. "Why would we leave this domicile?"

"We can't stay here with Dr. Weaver."

"Why not?" Seven asked innocently, turning the baseball cap over in her hands. "Kerry is quite hospitable, and she is a very good cook."

"I didn't know you enjoyed home cooked meals." Kathryn laughed again, but this time Seven did not feel any appreciative shiver. "I thought you considered food just so much nutritional supplements."

"I find Kerry's cooking pleasing," Seven said, smiling involuntarily as she remembered the caramel brownies and the strawberry shakes.

That smile almost caused Janeway to swallow her tongue. Her crewmember rarely smiled at anyone on Voyager, reserving most of her affectionate gestures for Naomi Wildman. Words like adequate and sufficient were her customary words of praise. For the young woman to signify Kerry's cooking as pleasing was exceptional. And it did not sit well with the captain.

**Calm down,** she told herself. Seven just likes her cooking. Fair enough. **You can barely bark an order to a replicator.**

She glanced around the guest room, noticing the fresh flowers on the bureau. A pile of clothing was neatly folded on a nearby chair. On the wall hung a painting of the boats off Lake Michigan.

"We must be careful not to contaminate the time line further," Janeway said, wishing Seven would stop fondling that baseball cap. "You really should not have mentioned the 24th century or being a Borg."

The injection of fresh nanoprobes had stabilized Seven's implants and their healing powers had brought her body back to normal. Including her ability to analyze the captain's words and even challenge her thinking.

"I thought it expedient to find my way back to the twenty-fourth century," she said now, defending her actions. "I needed the assistance of individuals who crossed my path. Kerry came to my assistance within an hour of my arrival here. I deemed it necessary to contact Professor Nielsen because he is the ancestor of the 24th century's leading time travel expert."

"How much did you reveal about our life in the 24th century?"

"Very little, Captain." Was the captain criticizing her? Seven was feeling distinctly unhappy. How was this possible since she had been overjoyed at seeing the captain only minutes earlier? Was this part of what Kerry called the roller coaster of being in love?

Right now, she could not remember why she found the captain so attractive. She certainly didn't look attractive with her arms crossed on her chest and the disapproving way her nostrils squinched up.

"Exactly what did you tell these people, Seven?"

"The truth, Captain. That I came from the 24th century, that I was Borg and that you had severed me from the Collective, that our starship was stranded in the Delta Quadrant, trying to find our way back to the Alpha Quadrant."

"And you call that very little!" Janeway threw her hands up and began to pace in the bedroom.

"I could have spoken at great length about Voyager and its warp engine drives and our weapons. But I did not." She did not think it wise to admit to her slip about photon torpedoes to Professor Nielsen.

Kathryn halted, recognizing the intractable tone in the Borg's voice. She'd heard it before on Voyager when she had called Seven on the carpet for beaming the member of Species 8472 to the Hirogen. She walked over to the young blonde who stood in front of the bureau.

"Seven, I know you did your best under difficult circumstances. This was an unusual situation you found yourself in. I'm just glad that we're together again."

"I feel the same, Captain. I have missed you."

The soft expression in the blue eyes took Kathryn's breath away. She felt an overwhelming urge to gather the blonde into her arms and hold her tight. She had spoken of doing that to Kim on board the plane only hours ago. Now with Seven right in front of her, less than an arm's length away, she couldn't.

"I wish I had a medical tricorder with me to make sure you're all right."

"I am operating at 95% efficiency, Captain. I assure you that my Borg implants have stabilized. I should be able to sustain this level of efficiency for another four days."

"Good." Four more days before they were back in the same boat. They needed to find a way back to Voyager.

"Whose hat is that?" Kathryn asked, nodding at the blue baseball cap still in Seven's hands.

"Kerry's. She let me borrow it yesterday because of the heat." Seven placed the cap back on the bureau, exactly where Kerry had left it for her. "Captain, did you bring any other medical equipment with you besides the hypospray with the Borg nanoprobes?"

"Yes. I have a bone-knitter and a dermal regenerator in the briefcase."

Seven nodded, smiling again. Kathryn thought she looked adorable. She could get accustomed to an animated Seven of Nine.

"Good. I shall use them on Kerry."

"What? Why?"

The blonde looked puzzled. "Did you not see her crutch? She walks with a damaged leg."

"Yes, I noticed," Kathryn said sympathetically. "Did she say how it happened?"

"A childhood accident. If we use the bone-knitter she will walk more efficiently. She will not climb the stairs so slowly."

Janeway was touched by Seven's evident concern for the doctor. "Seven, we can't just mend her leg."

The Borg lowered her brows. "Explain."

Kathryn chose her words carefully. It was obvious that Seven had formed some sort of attachment to Kerry, and she did not want to upset Seven when she denied her request.

"Using the bone-knitter to mend Kerry's leg would interfere with the temporal line. How would Dr. Weaver suddenly explain walking without a crutch to everyone she knew?"

"I do not know or care."

"Well, I do. I'm sorry, Seven. The answer is no."

Seven had not anticipated that there would be a problem using the bone-knitter. It was a simple 24th century tool, quite primitive when compared to Borg technology. Most species had something similar.

It was just the Federation Prime Directive again. She knew some of the crew on Voyager openly mocked this rule. Former Maquis, mostly. Wasn't the starship stranded in the Delta Quadrant precisely because Janeway had broken the Prime Directive and destroyed the Caretaker's array.

Seven knew pointing this out to the captain would not get her to agree to use the bone-knitter on Kerry.

"I must ask you to reconsider, Captain," she said haltingly, staring intently into Kathryn's eyes. "Kerry is my friend. I would like to help her."

"I understand that. However, I can't allow you to repair her injured leg."

Seven knew that tone, the one that declared I am the Captain. She disliked it on the ship and she disliked it even more off the ship.

"Then I will use the dermal regenerator on her bruised hip," she countered. "Kerry received that injury from my hands yesterday. I do not wish to leave her in that painful condition.

Janeway was on the verge of forbidding it when she saw the glint in the blue eyes. If she were a member of Species 8472 the captain had a hunch she would soon be beamed to the Hirogen.

"Very well. You may use the dermal regenerator.

Over in the main bedroom Kerry felt the uncomfortable minutes tick away. Would Kim ever move from that position? Would she come over and give her a kiss hello? Was she still angry with her?

"This is quite a surprise," she said finally, breaking the silence.

"It was a spur of the moment thing," Kim said, shaking off her own inertia and sitting down on the edge of Kerry's bed. "I didn't know I was coming to Chicago until I was on the plane."

"You're looking well." Wrong, Weaver. She didn't look well. She looked beautiful, as beautiful as the day she told you thanks for the sentiment.

Kim flushed under Weaver's hot, watchful gaze. Kerry always did like looking at her. Sometimes it made her embarrassed and other times it made her feel sexy and powerful.

"I haven't slept for over 24 hours unless you count an hour catnapping on the flight."

"If you're tired, you can take the bed," Kerry said, sliding over. "I'll go downstairs."

"No." Kim placed her hand on Kerry's knee, the touch enough to make both women falter. "Please, Ker. I haven't seen you in over a year. Surely we don't need to run from each other any more."

"Last time I looked you were the one who ran away," Kerry said sharply, then bit her tongue as she saw the hurt expression in Kim's eyes. That wasn't what she intended to say. "I'm sorry. That came out the wrong way. As usual."

Kim patted her knee. "It's okay. This is pretty weird. Your meeting Seven and my running into Kathryn."

"Yeah."

"Your hair's different," Kim blurted out.

To her surprise Kerry seized on the mundane topic. "I cut it and got highlights."

"It suits you." Kim felt the urge to fluff it with her fingers.

"You let yours grow out."

Was that what they were going to do? Sit around and talk about their hair?

"Remember that bad perm? It took a while for all of that to grow out and then I cut it. I decided I liked it straight."

Kerry laughed out loud.

Kim lifted an eyebrow. "Did I say something particularly hilarious?"

"Just that 'you liked it straight....'"

The psychiatrist snickered. "You know what I mean." Feeling more comfortable, she tucked her legs under in a lotus position.

Recalling that famous Legaspi's flexibility that had come in handy during their blissful lovemaking sessions, Kerry smiled.

"What?" Kim dipped her head, catching the redhead's gaze. There was a half smile on her lips, the type of smile that had often been a prelude to a bedroom marathon.

"Do you still take yoga?" Weaver asked, keeping her eyes locked on Kim's blue eyes. They were like the sea, deep enough to drown in.

"Once a week," Kim said. Her breath was coming in short inhalations.

"So you're in good shape," Kerry said, trying hard not to stare at the muscled calf, peeking out from the leg of Kim's pants.

"I hope so. I jog a couple of times a week."

So they had covered hair and physical conditioning. What was next? Work.

"How's work?" Kim asked.

"The same. What about you?"

"New city. New hospital. Same type of patients."

Now what? Kerry winced as the pain in her hip suddenly flared up.

"Leg bothers you more, I see."

"I just aggravated it earlier this evening," Kerry said, shaking the pain off.

"Let me take a look."

Was she kidding? "No. Kim, it's fine."

"Since you're grimacing like crazy, I know you're lying."

"I just need to take more Motrin in another hour. I'll be okay then."

And meantime she'd just grit her teeth and bear it.

"Same old indestructible Kerry Weaver."

"Old, yes. Indestructible, no. And I'm hardly the same. Any more." Not since you left, the unspoken words hung in the air.

"Prove it. Let me examine the bruised hip. Let me help you."

Kerry frowned. Why was Kim pushing this? When her leg bothered her Kim usually knew enough to back off and let her handle it herself.

"Kim, I don't see the point..."

"Of course not." The point was that she was there and an MD and could help Kerry, but the ER chief would never allow it. Never allow anyone to penetrate her protective shell.

Kerry could see Kim's jaw muscles clenching. Why was she getting annoyed? What was the big deal about her bruised hip?

"All right. If you want to look, go ahead." Kerry rolled over on her side, pulled her night shirt up and looped the waistband of her blue Victoria Secret panties and pulled it down, baring her hip.

The skin was discolored a deep red and blue, almost purplish. Gently, Kim touched the contusion.

"You've got one big booboo there, Ker."

Weaver chuckled, her cheek resting against her pillow. "I love your medical terminology, Dr. Legaspi."

Kim ran her fingers gently over the iliac crest, investigating the bruised area. What would Kerry do if she kissed it to make it better? Freak out probably.

"Kim?" Kerry asked, looking over her shoulder, feeling vulnerable and exposed as Kim's long fingers delicately traced over her exposed hip.

"It's a large contusion. You were right. But no broken skin."

Reluctantly, Kim pulled the underwear back up and the nightshirt down.

"How did it happen?"

Kerry turned over, facing her. "Just an accident."

"Kathryn has something that could clear up the bruising."

"Like her nanoprobes? No thanks."

"It's called a dermal regenerator. I've seen it. She used it on me when I burned myself. I know it would take care of that bruise."

Kerry moved her leg gingerly. It was feeling better. "Where did she get it from?"

"She's military involved in hush hush biotech research."

"I'm not interested in any military gadgets."

"It could help you. Kathryn knows her stuff. She helped Seven," Kim reminded her.

"I'm fine. Besides what's a little more pain. I've lived with enough this past year to be an expert."

Kim flinched. Was Kerry talking about their break up? She'd taken it hard, Kim knew, but then so had she.

"Why did you really come back to Chicago?" Kerry asked quietly.

The green eyes were two soft question marks. Kim licked her lips, hesitating to tell her what was in her heart.

"I wanted to..."

...to see you again. Kerry willed the words to come out of the blonde's mouth.

"... make sure Kathryn found her friend."

Kathryn?

"And she has!" Seven declared, striding into the room with the captain. The blonde looked as fit as the night she had taken care of the Groper and the mugger.

"Seven, how are you feeling?" Kerry asked, glad for the interruption.

"I am functioning at 96% efficiency," Seven pronounced, coming over to stand in front of Kerry.

As though she were Seven's commanding officer, Janeway thought waspishly. The dermal regenerator twitched in her hand.

"Very acceptable!" Kerry beamed at Seven then hugged her impulsively. Seven hugged her back.

This embrace between the undemonstrative astrometrics officer and her hostess took Janeway aback. In three years she had never known Seven to display her emotions publicly. Yet there she was smiling away at Kerry Weaver. Hugging her. Of course, Weaver had started it, grabbing the young woman. Not knowing what to make of it, she glanced at Kim who quirked an eyebrow in reply. You tell me, the message came through loud and clear.

"Dr. Weaver, Seven tells me that she injured your hip yesterday," Kathryn said, breaking into the hug fest.

"She injured it?" Kim exclaimed.

"By accident!" Kerry said, releasing Seven who continued to stand close by.

"I would never deliberately hurt Kerry." Seven glared at the other blonde.

"It's badly bruised," Kim countered. "I took a look at it."

Seven tilted her head, letting her optical implant leisurely denote the blonde hair, blue eyes, high cheek bones and generous curves of the psychiatrist. "You examined Kerry's injury?"

"I am a doctor," Kim said defensively and wondered why she had felt obliged to make that comment. There was something rude and offensive about the way this other woman was sizing her up.

"I really wish everyone would stop talking about my bruised hip," Kerry muttered.

"Kerry, we have an instrument," Seven began.

"If you're going to tell me about some high tech gadget that can take the pain away, forget it," Kerry said. "Kim already told me about it."

"She did?" Seven directed another look, this time at the captain. So much for not tampering with the temporal line.

Kathryn cleared her throat. "Kim cut herself and I used the dermal regenerator," she said, wondering why she was trying to explain herself to a subordinate.

"I thought you told me it was a burn?" Kerry directed her words to Kim.

"It was both actually. You know I'm a klutz, Ker."

"So you used the dermal regenerator twice on that woman?" Seven asked Janeway.

**That woman?** Kim glared at her.

"I wouldn't ordinarily use it on a civilian, however these were special circumstances."

"Well, this civilian is saying thanks but no thanks," Kerry put in.

"Kerry, this thing works." Kim protested.

"You needn't be afraid, Dr. Weaver," Kathryn said. "The device works quickly to regenerate the skin cells."

"I'm not afraid, Captain Janeway," Kerry said icily. "I'd just rather regenerate my skin cells the old-fashioned way." So saying, Kerry grabbed her crutch and began walking to the door just as another stupid spasm hit her.

Kim saw the face contort with pain and started toward Kerry, but Seven's Borg reflexes were much faster. She caught the smaller woman in her arms and carried her back to the bed where the pain gradually diminished.

"Let me help you, Kerry," she commanded. "I damaged you, and I would like to heal your injury."

"All right," Kerry consented.

Shocked, Kathryn watched the interaction on the bed. For three years Seven had lived aboard Voyager and if anyone knew her moods and quirks it was the captain. Never had Kathryn seen the Borg so gentle as she was now with Kerry. For a fleeting moment, Kathryn closed her eyes, imagining herself being lifted in those strong arms.

Kim's jaw muscle worked back and forth, fighting her urge to snatch Kerry out of that other blonde's embrace. She wanting to be the one Kerry allowed to care for her.

"Do you mind?" Kerry asked, an edge to her voice as she saw herself the object of intense scrutiny. "I don't think I need more witnesses to my butt-baring."

"It would be best if I tend to Kerry alone, Captain," Seven said, taking the dermal regenerator from Kathryn.

"Very well," Janeway said. "Kim?"

The blonde and redhead left the bedroom.

"Is she always this way?" Kim couldn't help asking as they went down the stairs.

"Seven or your Kerry?" Kathryn asked grimly.

"God, don't let her hear you call her my Kerry. I was actually referring to your Seven. She acts so superior and arrogant. And I don't think she likes me."

"Seven has her quirks. She has been called arrogant, but I think of her as shy."

"She and Kerry sure hit it off. That's rare for Kerry."

"Even rarer for Seven."
 

ONE BLONDE/ TWO REDHEADS

Left alone in her bedroom with yet another beautiful blonde, Kerry pushed herself to a sitting position on the bed.

"So how does this gadget work?" she asked.

Seven held the instrument out in the palm of her right hand. About the size of a deck of cards, it had a laser-like beam that emitted a low level hum when the blonde clicked it on.

"I will run it over your bruised hip like so." Demonstrating, Seven rubbed it over her muscled forearm. "As it moves over the bruised area the new skin will regenerate. You will feel a tingling sensation, but it will not hurt you. Don't be afraid."

"That's usually my line to the patients in the ER," Weaver said and it wasn't always the truth.

"Medical procedures can be painful," Seven agreed, remembering the numerous ones she had undergone as a Borg drone and those she still had to submit to on Voyager. Even relatively simple ones like adjusting her optical implant with a stylus if done carelessly by someone unfamiliar with Borg physiology could cause exquisite pain.

"Yes, they can," Kerry said softly, trying to read the expressive blue eyes. "Did you undergo many painful procedures?"

**Stupid question**. Kerry chided herself, remembering the abdominal and other metallic implants scattered along the blonde's body.

"Yes," came the matter-of-fact reply. "But this dermal regenerator will not hurt, I assure you."

"I believe you," Kerry said sincerely.

Seven was gratified to win the redhead's trust and after so little time, merely 25 hours and thirty seven minutes. In the years she had been aboard Voyager how many people really trusted her? Commander Chakotay had been suspicious of her from the start and even now when she spoke in a staff meeting was quick to put a Borg slant on any opinion she might offer. Did even Captain Janeway trust her?

"Shall we get this show on the road?" Kerry asked.

"Show? Road?"

"I mean shall we start?"

"Very well. Let us proceed."

Kerry turned onto her side, and as she had done for Kim, she pulled down her blue Victoria Secret's underwear and pulled up her nightshirt. She hugged a pillow, amused that she had exposed her glutes to two gorgeous women so far. Who would be next in line? Janeway maybe?

The thought of the other redhead in the house seeing her in such an exposed and vulnerable position made Weaver stiffen.

"Am I hurting you?" Seven asked, surprised by the woman's sudden increase in muscular tension. She had just begun to run the dermal regenerator over the edges of the purple bruise.

"No. Sorry, I'm just a little jumpy."

"Understandable. Perhaps it will relax you if we talked."

The last time they had talked, the young woman had wanted to know all about love. Kerry wasn't about to walk into that trap again.

"Or you may sing," she added.

"Sing!" Kerry exclaimed. She looked over her shoulder at the woman blithely wielding the device. For a split second she could almost imagine Seven in scrubs in her ER.

That little fantasy disappeared when the Borg abruptly pulled the blue panties off Kerry's entire butt with one swift downward motion.

"What the hell?" Weaver yelped as the morning air hit her naked flesh and she could feel goose bumps dotting her rump.

"That is better," Seven said. "I can access the injured area more efficiently now."

"Yeah, well. Warn me next time," Kerry said, knowing that it was silly to protest.

"Do you anticipate my needing to pull down your undergarment again?" the blonde asked.

Weaver blushed. "No. Could we talk about something else, please?"

"Agreeable," the Borg said as the purple contusion slowly began to fade, the color lightening to yellow. "I believe we were talking about singing as a form of relaxation. The Doctor on Voyager often sings opera arias when he is working on his patients."

"I don't think opera would be a good choice right now. It's still technically the middle of the night..."

"It is 0417," Seven said. "And twenty-six seconds. My internal chronometer is fixed."

"Internal clock huh?"

"Yes." Seven's left hand held Kerry's gluteus maximus lightly but firmly, the metal tips of the Borg-enhanced hand surprisingly warm against Kerry's cool skin. It didn't feel the way she expected metal to feel, cold and hard and the area where the dermal regenerator was moving felt warm too.

"Well, I don't feel in the mood to sing anything myself. However, feel free if you want to hum a little ditty."

"Ditty?"

"Song."

Seven's brows knit as she touched the iliac crest. "I do not know many ditties or songs. I thought you would do the singing."

Kerry chuckled. Seven had to be the only person in the world who would actually ask her to sing.

"Do you sing,?" Weaver asked.

"Yes, however, I do not know many songs." There were the ballads she sang when Voyager was taken over by the Hirogen and they had been forced into a holodeck nightclub program. But she did not wish to sing them.

"Do you play a musical instrument?" Kerry asked, resting her cheek against the floral print pillow case and enjoying the warmth suffusing her body. Enjoying it maybe a little too much, she realized with a start.

"Are you all right?" the Borg asked, becoming aware that Kerry's respiration had once again changed.

"Yes, fine." Or she would be fine if Seven didn't dip that dermal regenerator so low. "Are we almost done?"

"The area has improved in discoloration approximately 45%."

"That's good enough." Kerry reached down for the elastic on her panties.

"No." Seven's hand reached further south to hold her in place.

A long finger lightly grazed the thatch of soft red hair. Kerry inhaled sharply. Her eyes closed to steady herself from the unexpected touch.

"I would like the discoloration to be completely healed," the blonde said, not appearing to notice the redhead's reaction to her wayward digit. "Why are you so impatient?"

**Fuck.** Weaver couldn't tell the young woman that she was getting turned on. It wasn't just the treatment or the accidental contact with Seven. The too brief interlude with Kim had left her emotions on edge and her body aware that she had been celibate too long. And those metal fingertips weren't helping matters one bit.

"You're right. Keep going but could you just watch where you place your fingers?" she asked delicately.

The Borg lifted her brow, her optical implant riding higher on her forehead. The doctor was experiencing an increased capillary flow to her body. Seven's enhanced olfactory system could even detect a different scent wafting up from the redhead's lower half.

"You may place my hand wherever you want it, Kerry," she said.

**Sweet God in heaven!**

Trying not to imagine what that hand could do to what body parts, Kerry gently placed it higher up around her waist.

"Here's good," she said, her mouth dry while other parts of her were anything but.

"Acceptable," Seven said, trying to focus again on the task in front of her. Her concentration seemed to be less than her normal efficiency and she wondered if her nanoprobes were malfunctioning again. But her visual and auditory systems were working perfectly.

"So what were we talking about?" Weaver asked.

"Music, I believe was the topic of conversation."

"Ah yes. Do you play a musical instrument?"

"No. However, Ensign Kim on Voyager plays a clarinet."

"Woodwind kind of guy, huh?"

"Yes."

"Is he a special friend?"

The blonde smiled as she observed the yellowing color fading rapidly from the contusion and turning to pink.

"Harry Kim is the operations officer on Voyager. He is not a friend exactly, though his demeanor is always pleasant and flirtatious at times."

Kerry chuckled, not surprised. "Many men must flirt with you."

"Only Ensign Kim. This was when I first joined Voyager."

"Ah...what happened between the two of you?" Kerry asked curiously.

"I told him I had no time to waste on flirting and if he wished to copulate with me to take off his clothes."

Kerry snorted into her pillow and pounded her fist on the mattress.

"Seven, you didn't!"

"Indeed, I did. It seemed more efficient to stop the flirtation and go right to copulation."

"So, did you...er, copulate?" Under the circumstances it was no wonder that the young woman thought of sex as copulation and not making love.

"No. Ensign Kim became nervous and left."

"Couldn't put up, so he shut up."

"Indeed," Seven said, wondering what that meant, though by Kerry's grin it was something she found highly amusing. "I sometimes wonder if copulating with the ensign would have been successful."

"Successful?"

"I have never copulated before," the young woman revealed hesitantly.

"Oh, yeah, it can be a bit awkward the first time you er, copulate."

"Exactly." Seven felt great relief that Kerry understood. The redhead always seemed to understand what she was struggling to articulate. She was like the captain in that respect. "What was it like for you your first time, Kerry?"

Uh-uh. Weaver wasn't going there.

"It's different for everyone the first time," she replied. "Every couple is different."

"I wonder what it was like for the captain her first time."

"Maybe you ought to ask her," Kerry said, wishing she were around to see Janeway's expression when Seven sprung that question on her.

The blonde shut off the dermal regenerator. The bruise was now completely healed. She prodded the soft pink skin with an index finger.

Kerry gasped involuntarily.

"What is the matter?" the Borg asked immediately.

"Nothing ...I just..." **Got turned on, horny Weaver**.

Seven's fingers lightly traced the healed contusion, approaching the area where one soft globe met the other. "Am I hurting you?"

"No." **More like killing me.** "Are you finished?"

The blonde jerked back her hand. "We are finished. The discoloration has been eliminated."

Kerry pulled up her underpants then rolled over and didn't wince once.

"Thanks. That feels a lot better."

"You are welcome," Seven replied, feeling a wealth of emotions herself that she found difficult to decipher.

There had been pleasure and curiosity and a desire to see more of the pink skin that now slowly disappeared from sight, leaving only a disappointing and very odd ache in the Borg's lower abdomen.

Kathryn knew she ought to be grateful to Kerry Weaver. After all the woman had sheltered Seven, had comforted her when things looked bleakest for the young Borg, and yet somehow Janeway couldn't help feeling hostile toward the other redhead.

It was quite irrational. After all, the ER chief had put her home at their disposal, was even now preparing breakfast for them and had offered a change of fresh clothing for Kathryn after her morning shower.

Seven had been dispatched to the guest room with an oxford shirt and black pants from Kerry's wardrobe. "These will probably fit you since you share Kerry's approximate dimensions."

"Tell Dr. Weaver thanks, but I bought a few things at the airport." Thank God for that.

Seven hung the clothing in the closet. "In case you have need of them later," she explained to Kathryn.

"Fine."

The blonde unsnapped the briefcase and replaced the dermal regenerator. Her manner appeared a little distracted to Kathryn. Had something happened in the other bedroom?

"How did the procedure go?" she asked.

"Kerry's bruise has been eliminated."

"Good. So everything's all right? Are you okay?"

"I am operating within normal parameters, Captain."

"Fine, because there is something I need to speak to you about. And I want your attention." She sat down, patting the bed and Seven quickly took her position next to her on the edge. This time however the Starfleet officer did not clasp her hand, and Seven felt disappointed. She was even more disappointed in what the captain had to say.

"You did not follow code indigo, Seven."

The astrometrics officer lifted her chin. "I realize that, Captain. By the time you ordered me to implement code indigo, certain information had already been revealed to Kerry and Professor Nielsen."

"We must salvage that situation. You will not say anything further to them about being Borg or from the 24th century. Is that clear?"

"I cannot retract that information. It would be very odd!"

Janeway overrode her protest. "I am going to tell them you have been confused mentally and that this instability caused you to have these strange delusions."

Seven rose to her feet and towered over the seated Janeway. "There is nothing confused about my mental faculties."

"I know," Kathryn said, fully aware of the woman's pride in her keen intellect. "This is just a ruse." Gently she took the Borg's right hand in hers. "We have to protect this time line. You and I don't belong here. So our cover story is you are mentally confused and subject to delusions."

"Very well, although I dislike lying to Kerry."

"So do I. But it is necessary." Janeway squeezed Seven's hand then dropped it as abruptly as she had taken it. She got to her feet and started looking through the items of clothing she had bought at the airport, selecting a pair of khakhi Dockers and a striped rugby shirt.

Seven watched her, conscious of the warmth of her skin where Kathryn had touched her. Janeway became aware of the pensive expression in the pale blue eyes.

"Is there something you want to talk to me about?" she asked softly.

The blonde nodded. "I am puzzled about certain physical reactions I experienced with Kerry in the other bedroom."

"Physical reactions? What kind of physical reactions?" Kathryn asked, staring intently into the narrow face.

"I believe I experienced sexual arousal while with Kerry, Captain."

"Arousal?" Janeway squeaked the word out. "You're sure?"

"Yes, I am quite certain. I experienced an increase in my rate of respiration, my pupils dilated, and I felt a growing desire to touch Kerry's bare flesh."

"What was she doing when you experienced this arousal?" Kathryn said, feeling her shock give way to rigid anger. If that woman had taken advantage of her Borg, she'd scratch her eyes out, bad leg or no bad leg.

**Your Borg?**

"She was having the procedure. She was lying face down on her bed while I ran the dermal regenerator over her hip."

"I see. She didn't say anything of a provocative nature to you? Attempt to engage you in conversation about physical intimacy, perhaps?"

"We did speak about copulating. Kerry prefers the term making love."

"You spoke about copulating?" Kathryn enunciated the words carefully, feeling her blood pressure about to go to warp.

"It is not the first time we have spoken of such matters." Seven was becoming aware of the changes in the captain's usual vocalization pattern. The blonde was acutely attuned to Janeway's voice, the various changes in pitch and timbre brought on corresponding changes in the captain's mood.

Right now, she discerned Janeway's mood as angry. Only what was she angry about?

"Earlier this evening, before you and Kim arrived, Kerry had been enlightening me about the nature of making love," she explained further.

"She had, had she? It was inappropriate of Dr. Weaver to speak of such matters to you." Janeway's voice held the familiar command lash.

"I did not feel creepy or uncomfortable. I was interested."

"All the same. It is not a topic that you should be discussing with her."

"Whom should I discuss it with?"

**Yeah, Kathryn, who?**

"With the Doctor."

"Kerry is a doctor," Seven pointed out. "Ordinarily I would go to the EMH with my concerns. Since he is not here that is why I am seeking out your counsel."

Kathryn gazed into the naïve blue eyes of her astrometrics officer and felt her anger suddenly dissolved. She was an idiot, over-reacting to Seven's very human curiosity about her body. Kathryn should have seen it coming. Seven was an adult woman in her mid twenties and experiencing adult reactions to physical stimuli.

"Seven, I am glad that you would come to me with your questions. And I really don't think you need to be overly concerned by whatever happened when you were treating Kerry's hip."

"You don't?"

"No. Your physical reaction may have nothing whatever to do with Dr. Weaver."

The blonde frowned, clearly confused. "Explain."

"You were having a physical response to certain stimuli. You saw or were touching an area of the human body that is generally not touched or viewed."

"So my physical reaction was not specific to Kerry. If I had been performing the procedure on you I would have undergone the same reaction."

Kathryn felt a deep jolt of desire as she imagined an aroused Seven of Nine running the dermal regenerator over her bare buttock. With difficulty she regained control of herself and tried to think of an explanation to help Seven understand.

"Human beings have a lot of physical reactions attached to sensory experiences. When we eat something we experience pleasure. When you saw or ran your dermal regenerator around the bare portion of Kerry's hip and buttock your body was having a perfectly human reaction."

"So whenever I see this part of the body I will become aroused?"

Janeway shrugged. "You may or may not, depending on circumstances. And it needn't be a real experience. In holodeck programs some of the crew have been quite stimulated by holocharacters."

"Such as Michael Sullivan?"

Kathryn's brow puckered as she wondered why Seven had brought up that damn hologram. Did the whole crew know about her infatuated holo lover in Fair Haven? Whatever the case, she was not about to discuss him.

She began gathering the trousers and shirt, wondering why she had bought a green and blue striped garment. Maybe it was the sign Buy One Get One Free in the airport shop. "Seven, I'm going to take Dr. Weaver up on her kind offer of a morning shower. So, if there's nothing more on your mind."

There was a good deal more on Seven's mind like how Kathryn's gluteus maximus would look in the shower. The mere idea of droplets of water cascading on the bare soft mounds brought on symptoms of arousal again and this time much more strongly. Perhaps it was this heightened sensation that caused the Borg to throw caution out the airlock.

"Captain, I do have one last question. Do the sensory sensations become stronger if one is in love?"

Kathryn cocked her head and gave her astrometrics officer an affectionate half smile. "Love certainly does enrich the sensory sensations."

"Ah that explains it," Seven said. Her reaction to the captain now was much stronger than her reaction earlier to Kerry because she loved her.

"How so?" Janeway glanced over idly.

She was Borg and not afraid of anything, except knowing that she loved this compact auburn-haired woman who despite their friendship perhaps did not love her back.

"I believe I love..." Seven swallowed the word "you" on the tip of her tongue. She dare not blurt out such a thing to the captain. Her declaration of love would need time to ponder. She must choose the right time and words.

"You love___?" Kathryn asked, staring raptly at the pouty lips. Was Seven about to make a declaration to her? What should she do? God, Seven's lips looked so damn delectable, so soft and pink. They were opening now, about to say something.

"I love Kerry," Seven said. "Just a little."
 

Blondes/Redheads

Kerry's kitchen was large and airy, smelling of fresh peaches and strawberries mixed with something else. Kim sniffed delicately. Dill. That was it. It felt so good to be here. Of all the rooms in Kerry's small house this one reflected the heart of the ER chief, the shining copper pots and pans hanging from hooks over the small island, the assortment of fresh fruit, the wooden herb planter and the small white Bose Wave CD player/radio that could blare out rock n roll while the chef cooked up one of her famous repasts. At the moment the musical menu featured The Humming Chorus from Madame Butterfly.

Humming happily along to the music, Kim pulled the refrigerator door open and bent down for a closer view of the contents. Her ex had cooked up a storm last night. That was obvious from the remains of salmon, brown rice and what looked to be strawberry shortcake. A dinner for Seven and that guy who'd slept on the couch.

The refrigerator shelves were stuffed with food. That was a sign of abundance according to a San Franciscan feng shui expert Kim had once consulted. How she hated to think of her empty shelves back in California. God, she hated to think of San Francisco period. She wanted to concentrate on being back where she belonged, in this kitchen, this house, this city.

If Kerry would let her back in. That heartfelt gaze they had exchanged in the bedroom before Seven and Kathryn had interrupted had been a scorcher, reminding Kim of how Kerry had looked back at Magoos when she'd asked her to stay. Why hadn't she told Ker the truth, that she had returned to Chicago to see her. Why settle for the easy reply, to help Kathryn find her friend?

**Because I am a gutless wonder.** A hungry gutless wonder, judging by the way she was salivating over the strawberry shortcake. Kim couldn't resist. She went to the first drawer next to the sink and was a little surprised not to find the forks where they usually were. A round of opening other drawers finally revealed the tray and she took out a dessert fork. She unpeeled the plastic wrap off the plate in the refrigerator and leaning in took a small bite of the dessert. Then another and another. She was just licking the whipped cream off her lips when the professor sleepily came into the kitchen.

"Hi," she said, slamming the refrigerator door and trying to wipe the evidence off her face.

"Hi..." He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "I think we met last night but never got formally introduced."

"I guess it was a little hectic around here."

"So are you a friend of Kerry's or another 24th century pal of Seven's?"

"Friend of Kerry's," she said, offering her hand and a smile. "I'm Kim Legaspi."

"Harry Nielsen." The professor shook her hand, thinking to himself that Kerry Weaver had the hottest blonde friends he'd ever seen.

"You a doctor too?"

"Psychiatrist, actually."

"You here to treat Seven's delusions, I suppose?" The ruddy man looked concerned.

"Uhmm...I'm not really able to discuss that." Especially since she didn't know much about Seven or her delusions.

Nielsen nodded. "I don't care how many shrinks see her. I have a hard time believing she's crazy. Sweet thing like that."

"Sweet does not necessarily cancel out mental illness," Kim said softly, thinking of several patients who were both.

She opened the freezer door, pleased to find the coffee in the same spot. Why had Kerry moved all her stuff around? Kim picked up the paper bag of Kona blend and inhaled. Trust Kerry to always buy the best ingredients for her cooking.

"Seven's something, don't you think?" Nielsen said, watching Kim scoop the coffee into the coffee maker.

"Yeah." Some of the coffee grinds spilled out onto the white tile counter.

"Kerry's pretty special too."

Kim smiled. "That she is."

"They make a cute couple."

"You think?" Kim asked, her tone just a tad less friendly than before. Plugging in the cord on the coffee maker, Nielsen didn't catch the change.

"Last night they had a little spat but I think it cleared up by the time you and the captain arrived."

**Lucky me.** "That's good."

"You can see how they feel about each other in their eyes."

"Really," Kim said, her voice as brittle as an icicle.

The look she gave the professor was just as cold.

**Oh boy. Weaver had two blondes who could deliver that eyebrow arch and death ray stare.**

"I'm going to see if the Tribune came," he muttered. He didn't even know if Kerry had a home subscription, but he'd just wait, out of the line of fire. One blonde/redhead combination was volatile enough. Two was just asking for annihilation.

"You do that," Kim said, frowning at the coffee scoop. Now she'd lost count of how much coffee had gone into the coffee maker. She dumped it all out and started over. The blonde had just poured the water into the machine when Kerry came in, her hair shimmering in the kitchen light, her alabaster skin gleaming. She wore a soft green top and matching Capri pants.

"Good morning," she said.

"Why did you move things around?" Kim asked. Hardly the type of greeting to wow an ex-girlfriend.

Weaver just laughed as she poured herself a glass of water. "Someone needs her coffee. Did you have trouble finding it?"

"No, not the coffee. But everything else. You moved your forks, towels, plates."

"Seven rearranged things to make it more efficient. That's a compulsion with her."

Compulsion? To go with her 24th century delusions? How ill was this woman?

"I hope I bought enough eggs to feed this crowd."

"Judging by your refrigerator you bought enough to feed a football team."

Kerry grinned. Her eyes drank in the sight of Kim's long lanky body in a soft baby blue shirt and denims. The color matched her eyes.

"Not so fast. Baseball's still in season."

"Not for long. And my Bears are going to rock this season."

Kerry's smile widened even more. "You haven't switched allegiance to the Forty Niners?"

"Hell no. They suck!"

Kerry gurgled with laughter.

"Chicago's always been home." Kim lowered her voice. "You know that, Ker."

Kerry put the water glass down in the stainless steel sink. "I know. I just wondered if you knew it too."

They stood for a moment together in silence broken only by the water dripping through the coffee filter.

Finally Kim spoke. "I've been seeing things more clearly the past few days."

"Since meeting Kathryn?"

Was that a note of jealousy? "Yeah, actually, it started happening around the same time," Kim admitted. "Kathryn coming here gave me an excuse to come back, to see you."

She lifted her head and stared into the eyes of the woman she loved.

"You don't ever need an excuse to see me, Kim," Kerry answered. **She didn't want to jump to conclusions. Take it nice and slow, Weaver.** She placed her hand on the counter next to the blonde's. If Kim just stretched her pinkie over half an inch it would touch hers.

"It's easier on the ego," Kim said, going all the way and covering Kerry's hand with hers. "I couldn't be sure of anything after all this time."

"I am."

"Kerry___"

Words were about to fail Dr. Kim Legaspi again. Instead she picked up Kerry's hand and buried her face in it. She pressed her burning lips to the palm, slid the tip of her tongue across the love line, down the length of the life line, planting a kiss on the inside of the wrist.

"Got the Tribune," Harry Nielsen announced, coming into the kitchen and then making a U turn.

**Criminy. Weaver literally did have the blonde eating out of her hand.**

Kerry's laughter bubbled up, not about to be denied as Kim lifted her head, golden hair spilling over her flushed face.

"Harry is going to think I'm some kind of ..."

"Irresistible redhead," Kim supplied, turning Kerry's hand over and nuzzling the knuckles. "He already thinks you and Seven are an item."

"What?" Kerry was distracted by Kim's mouth lightly sucking on the delicate flesh in between her thumb and index finger.

"To quote him exactly a cute couple."

"You're kidding..."

"No." Kim glowered but didn't let go of Kerry's hand.

"Are you jealous?" Weaver asked, astonished that Kim could be jealous of her.

"Yeah, maybe a little."

Kerry slid her fingers against the soft skin under Kim's chin. She loved to kiss her there.

"You've got nothing to be jealous about."

"Tall, blonde and stacked. Sure."

Kerry wanted to laugh then she recognized the uncertainty in Kim's blue eyes. How could someone like Kim ever be uncertain. A lump formed in her throat. Kim the beautiful, Kim the confident, Kim the self-assured.

"You're the One, babe," she whispered. "You've always been the One for me. No matter how many tall blonde stacked women cross my path." She yearned to pull Kim's head down and give her lips finally what they had hungered for all year.

"Ker?" Kim bent her head, her face hovering just a breath away from Kerry's. She paused as they felt the other's inhalation, their bodies falling into the sweet rhythm then suddenly Kim's mouth covered Kerry's. Kim felt the warm wet welcome and the two strong arms encircling her, and she cried because she was finally back where her heart belonged.

Seven had a crush. That's all it was. The sort of thing someone young and impressionable would get on someone older and wiser like a teacher or a commanding officer. So why the hell hadn't she developed a crush on her, Kathryn Janeway asked herself. Why Kerry Weaver?

By the time the freshly showered Kathryn came down the stairs she was regretting not leaving immediately with her astrometrics officer once Seven's implants had been stabilized. She was also beginning to regret the striped rugby shirt.

"Remind me again why I bought it?" she asked Kim when she spotted the psychiatrist in the kitchen. Seven was there too, standing by her beloved Kerry at the stove.

"I think you said you needed some clothes and anything would do," Kim replied.

"Would you rather wear the clothes Kerry offered?" Seven asked, looking up from her lesson in omelet-making.

"I have more," Kerry said.

"No, thank you. This will do," Janeway replied stiffly. The woman appeared innocuous enough but she irked Kathryn who really couldn't see what had enamored Kim or Seven.

"Coffee?" Kim offered, holding up the coffee pot. She appeared in good spirits this morning.

"Please," Kathryn said, looking for a place to sit and finally, perched on a stool next to Nielsen who was reading the morning newspaper.

"Section?" Harry offered her part of the Tribune.

"No, thank you."

Kim opened a cabinet, trying to find the mugs. They weren't in the place where Kerry usually kept them.

"I'm going to need a map to find stuff," she told Kerry.

"I made the kitchen more efficient," the Borg replied.

Kim rolled her eyes. She was beginning to hate the word efficient.

"It takes a little getting used to," Kerry said, beating the eggs with a fork. "I still forget where things are myself, but it really is laid out better now, thanks to Seven."

The Borg beamed at Kerry, annoying Kim and causing a visceral ache in Kathryn heart. Once she had dreamed of Seven smiling at her that way.

Kim poured Kathryn her coffee. The captain held the mug up to her nose, inhaling the aroma gratefully. Her first taste brought a soft sigh and some of her bad temper disappeared.

"What blend is this?" she asked.

"Kona," Kim replied.

"You get that in Hawaii, don't you?" Harry Nielsen looked across from his sports page. "Kim mentioned you were from Hawaii."

"Er yes." Janeway replied as Seven sent a baffled look in her direction.

"That's a great place," Nielsen went on. "I went there once on vacation and I'm dying to go back. I hung out on the North Shore. Nothing like big waves in February. Glad to hear Hawaii's still around in the 24th century."

Kathryn nearly spluttered her coffee over her rugby shirt.

"24th century?" she asked, dabbing at her chin with the napkin Kim handed her.

"You're Seven's captain, aren't you? Voyager starship."

Janeway stared at the rotund professor, trying to figure out how to keep from polluting the time line further.

"Professor, my memory was faulty," Seven declared, coming over to stand near the man. "I am mentally unbalanced. The captain reminded me that I have been unwell and am under her command in this century not the 24th."

"Really? So should I keep working on that time travel problem you had presented me with? Because I was about to call in a favor from a guy who has been working on a polaric wave theory for the government. I was going to meet him later at the Naval Training Academy."

Seven eyed the captain uneasily.

"This hypothetical time travel problem. Do you think your friend could solve it?" Janeway asked and took another slow sip of her coffee.

"Seven had mentioned how polaric waves can generate a small temporal rift. We need the polaric wave device before we can speculate on widening the rift."

But if they modified the tricorder and directed phaser power in the right direction they might be able to widen the rift sufficiently for two people to pass through it. Kathryn met Seven's gaze and knew she had thought the same thing.

"At the very least we would be able to get a signal through to the ship."

"The hypothetical ship," Kathryn said.

"Yeah, whatever."

"Perhaps I could accompany you to the meeting."

"No can do. Sorry, this is very hush hush. Very top secret military stuff."

"Kathryn has military clearance," Kim pointed out. "Don't you, Kathryn?"

Caught in two webs of lies and not just one, Janeway had to think fast. Her solution came from Kerry of all people.

"Why don't we sort out the time travel itinerary after I get these eggs done," she said. "Seven, you still want to help make the omelets?"

"Yes, Kerry."

"Okay by me." Nielsen returned to his sports page.

"May I help in any way?" Kathryn offered as Seven took her position again by the stove, watching intently as Kerry tossed sliced mushrooms and onions into the skillet with the eggs.

"That is impossible, Captain. You do not cook," Seven declared.

Janeway looked abashed. Kerry no doubt was a genius with a skillet.

"Seven's right. I don't cook. However, I could set the table or pour the juice."

"OJ's in the refrigerator and the plates are..." Kerry tried to remember.

"The second cabinet to the left." Seven supplied.

Exchanging a wry look with Kerry, Kim opened the cabinets and handed the plates down to the shorter Kathryn. At the stove Kerry was coaching Seven as she poured out the egg mixture. She really was great with the young woman, Janeway noted. The two of them together seemed to click.

"You okay?" Kim asked Kathryn as they poured the orange juice into glasses and placed them on the dining room table.

"Yeah. Except why did I buy this awful shirt."

"I tried to stop you."

"Should have listened to you." Kathryn put a floral plate on the straw place mat.

"So did it go okay? Your reunion with Seven?"

The redhead shrugged. "As well as could be expected."

Kim frowned. This didn't sound like the same woman she had listened to on board the airplane from California. "Did you tell Seven how you feel about her?"

Janeway shook her head. "The timing wasn't right, Kim. Besides, Seven is so young and emotions only confuse her." And she's confused enough what with being aroused by a certain Kerry Weaver.

"So you're not going to tell her how much you care for her?"

"Not yet. What about you and Kerry? How did your reunion go?"

Kim's blue eyes danced. "It went pretty well actually.

Kathryn hid a scowl as she put the forks on the table. Was everyone in the house in love with Kerry?

"So the two of you reconciled?"

"I think we've made a good start on that road."

So where did it leave one crush prone Borg?
 

"Dr. Weaver, if you ever want to leave the medical field, you could make a mint as a chef," Harry Nielsen declared about to enjoy his second meal under the same roof.

"Thanks, Harry," Kerry said, distributing the omelets while Seven brought the melon and sausages out. Kim went back for the toast and some home made strawberry jam.

"You would have Neelix's job aboard Voyager, Kerry," Seven said, realizing too late that she had made a mistake again.

One that the captain caught immediately, judging by the small shake of the auburn head.

"Thanks, but I already have a job," Weaver said, oblivious to what was going on between Seven and Janeway. She sat down at the head of the table.

Quickly, Kim took the chair on Kerry's right, while Seven sat on Kerry's left. Feeling like an ugly stepsister to Kerry's Cinderella, Kathryn sat down next to her astrometrics officer, facing Harry Nielsen who was tucking his napkin under his chin ready to dig into his food.

"Are you working today?" Kim asked

"Uh-uh," Kerry said, dabbing some strawberry jam on a piece of toast. "I just have to run some paperwork in and leave it with Romano's secretary."

"Romano."

That was one name Kim didn't want to hear again.

Seven cocked her ear. There was something about this Romano that caused both Kim and Kerry discomfort.

"Who's Romano?" Kathryn asked, taking a bite of the mushroom omelet and finding it delicious. **So the woman could cook, big deal. Could she fire a phaser compression rifle?**

"This jerk at the hospital," Kerry replied. "Unfortunately, he's chief of staff."

"What is chief of staff?" Seven asked.

"In hospital terms, the jerk's our boss. The head honcho. The big cheese."

"Like the captain on board our ship." Seven directed a quick look at Janeway.

"Kathryn is not a homophobic pig," Kim said.

"Thank you, I think," Janeway replied, stabbing a sausage with a fork.

"If he is so disagreeable, why do you work for him," Seven inquired.

"Well, you can't always choose your boss, can you?" Kerry said.

Seven glanced shyly over at Janeway. "Indeed not. But I am content with the boss I have."

Kathryn felt the beginnings of a blush suffuse her cheeks.

"What are you dropping off at Romano's office?" Kim asked, taking a bite of melon. "Budget stuff?"

"No. It's some stats he wanted about gay women and their health. Since Peter Benton left, I'm head of the Diversity Committee at County and the gay liaison."

"When did that happen?" Kim put down her fork, staring at Kerry with amazement.

"This past spring. That reminds me. If you're thinking of popping in on Christy or Kate, they'll be out of town this weekend, attending a conference in New Orleans."

"How do you know that?"

"Christy came to some of the informational meetings the hospital sponsored. And we got to talking. She knows her stuff legally."

"Yes." Christy knew her stuff. But the idea of Christy and Kate talking over gay issues with Kerry. "So this means you're out at work."

Kerry nodded.

"What does being out at work mean?" Seven asked.

"It means that people at work know I'm a lesbian," Kerry said matter-of-factly.

"Including Romano?" Kim asked.

"Yeah....he's just a little snarky about it."

"Snarky?" Seven asked.

"Mostly tittering. I think the guy just wants to see two women in bed or at the very least kissing."

"Can't blame him for that. Most guys do," Harry said.

The four women stopped eating and stared at him pointedly. "Well, we do," he said defensively, wishing he had brought the Tribune to the table to hide behind.

"This man Romano sounds most disagreeable," Seven said.

"That's putting it mildly."

"I will speak to him on your behalf, Kerry," Seven offered. "I do not think he will give you any trouble afterward."

For a moment Kerry enjoyed the day dream of the six foot Seven lounging around the ER ready to throttle creeps like Romano.

"You would give that troll a good lesson," Kerry agreed. "But I'll have to pass. Besides, he has a thing for tall blondes. He'd probably fall madly in love with you."

"That would be unfortunate. I do not wish a mate who is a troll."

"What kind of mate do you prefer?" Harry asked, indulging in a day dream of his own.

"Someone who is approximately five feet five, one hundred and ten pounds, red haired and female. Someone who can command and lead others."

Well if that didn't send the ball to Janeway's court, nothing would, Kerry thought smiling to herself and peering down the table at the captain. The look she got in return nearly burned her corneas. What was up with that woman! Maybe she didn't appreciate Seven's open declaration of affection.

Kathryn's teeth tore into the link sausage. Was that a damn marriage proposal she'd just heard Seven utter? Weaver's sly smile didn't help Janeway's mood.

"If this Romano likes tall blondes, I'm surprised he didn't go for Kim," Kathryn said, determined to get the upper hand with the other redhead.

"I'm gay. Romano wouldn't be interested," Kim replied.

"If you kissed him he'd probably change his mind. You're a very good kisser." Janeway ran her tongue over her lips deliberately punctuating her remark.

Kim stared flabbergasted at Kathryn. Was she insane? She had told her not to say anything about that in front of Kerry.

"Have you and Kim kissed?" an angry voice demanded.

Not Kerry's voice. Seven's.

Kathryn blinked, becoming aware that her astrometrics officer to her right was radiating her intense displeasure. Her blue eyes held not only anger but contempt and something more. Pain.

Damn it. Her attempt at rattling Kerry had rebounded like a wayward Velocity disc off the holodeck wall.

Getting no reply from Kathryn, Seven fixed her attention across the table at Kim.

"Have you kissed the captain?"

"That's none of our business, Seven," Kerry said, laying her hand gently on the other woman's wrist.

"Actually, it wasn't a real kiss." Kim spoke quickly, needing Kerry to understand and not wanting this to screw things up between them.

"No, it wasn't," Kathryn agreed, coming to her senses.

"Spare us the details," Kerry drawled.

Harry looked disappointed then perked up when Seven declared that she wanted the details.

"It was a goodbye kiss, Seven," Kathryn said quickly. "The sort that friends exchange. It didn't mean anything."

"Friends? How long have you two known each other?" the blonde demanded. Her Borg-enhanced hand, strong enough to bend duranium, was now clenched into a fist behind her back. She did not wish to damage Kerry's dining table.

"A friendship can blossom quickly," Kim said. "You and Kerry are friends. How long have you known her?"

Seven's eyes were azure shards of ice. "I have not kissed Kerry. But you, it seems, have a habit of kissing the captain."

"Not a habit, Seven," Janeway said, regretting her impulsive remark minutes ago. She had not intended to upset Seven, just tweak Kerry a little. "And you will not speak in that tone to Dr. Legaspi. She has been very helpful..."

"I will speak in whatever tone I wish." Intractable.

"Seven! Maybe you should leave the table now." Janeway put the full weight of command behind her words.

"Excuse me, are you her mother?" Kerry interjected, her withering tone more than a match for Janeway's.

Kathryn leveled a Force Ten glare at the woman seated at the head of the table. "I was talking to my crewmember."

"As if she were a child," Kerry said, not backing down.

"Maybe you do not understand the chain of command, Dr. Weaver."

"I understand this, Captain Janeway. Seven is a guest under my roof. She will be treated by respect by everyone here, including you."

"Seven is under my command."

"We're not on board your starship, Captain. We're not lost in the far end of the galaxy."

Janeway bit the inside of her cheek. "What are you implying?"

"Voyager's your ship, right? Lost in the Delta Quadrant, trying to get home. Well, who got her lost, hmmmm?"

Kathryn glared impotently at the smug redhead who was calmly munching a triangle of toast. She wanted to take a Klingon battleth to her.

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about."

"Seven filled me in earlier."

"Seven is mentally unstable. Anything she says must be taken with some discretion."

"Right now, you're the one who's been acting mentally unstable," Kerry pointed out. "And why the hell does Seven have those implants on her body."

"That is classified information." A low warning growl.

"I just bet." An answering snarl.

"Okay...I think we need a time out," Kim intervened.

The two redheads ignored her.

"You've forced her to endure unwanted medical procedures..."

"I did no such thing."

"Took her from the only family she had."

"I freed her!"

"Hey!" Kim whistled sharply through her fingers. "I said time out, damn it. And I mean time out."

"What is time out?" the other blonde asked doubtfully.

"It's a sports term, Seven, meaning a short recess or break," Harry explained. "Usually taken when things get heated up."

"Kim's right," Kathryn said. "Things were getting a bit emotional."

"No talking," Kim said, not at all pleased with Janeway. "We finish eating breakfast in silence."

"Sounds good to me," Kerry muttered.

Kim arched an eyebrow. "I mean it, Ker. No talking allowed."

"What about kissing? Is that allowed?" Kerry smirked, lifting **her** eyebrow.

Voyager Interlude aka Back in the Delta Quadrant

"Maw'tok!" Lt. Belanna Torres let loose with yet another Klingon curse as she struggled with the warp core shielding. In times of crisis her half Klingon side usually asserted itself.

"Kahless, come on." For some reason the shielding had gone balky this morning. The dark-skinned brunette glanced to her left where Lt. Carey and Ensign Vorick were frantically keying in alterations to the warp plasma mix. That was it. Something must've gone wrong because the warning lights had gone on.

"Warning....Two minutes to a warp core breach," the computer announced.

"Chakotay to Engineering. What's going on."

"We have a possible warp core breach," Torres snapped back. "No time to talk. Torres out." She entered the final sequence of commands and held her breath. Vorick had a stoic look on his face, usual for a Vulcan. Carey's cheeks were flushed.

Come on. That last series should do the trick.

If they were lucky. If not, they were all targh dung.

If Seven were here this probably wouldn't have happened. Although Seven was an Astrometrics officer, she spent considerable time in Engineering, depending on which projects the captain assigned. She would have gotten the warp plasma alterations done correctly.

Torres sighed as she kept her eyes peeled on the monitor showing the shielding slowly coming back on line. Seven's quest for perfection made her a constant irritant, but sometimes it paid to have a perfectionist around. And during the last few days the Chief Engineer had missed her and the captain.

"We nailed it," Carey whooped. He let his breath out and glanced over at Torres. The former Maquis nodded. Torres slapped her communicator.

"Torres to Bridge."

"The core is stabilized, Commander," she reported.

"Good. We'll need to return to Sector 563. We're nearing the rendez-vous time with the Captain and Seven. I'll need warp two."

"You have it, Commander. Torres out."

On the bridge, Chakotay turned his attention to the matter closest to him. Getting Kathryn Janeway back aboard.

"Lt. Paris, lay in a course for Sector 563, warp two."

"Aye, Commander. You think the captain and Seven will be there?" Lt. Paris asked as he inputted the course change and the ship went to warp two. "They haven't been at the coordinates the last few times we've tried."

"Our ship has been out of position," Tuvok spoke from his position on the bridge. It had taken a while to maneuver Voyager back toward the region the Folkir had laid claim to. "Voyager and the captain must be at the right place at the right time."

Paris smirked to himself. "Have to remember that line the next time I meet a lady at Sandrine's," he said to Harry Kim after Chakotay and Tuvok withdrew to the captain's ready room.

"You don't need to remember any line, Tom," Harry Kim joked back from Opps. "You programmed the holodeck program to be irresistible to every female there. Don't you remember?"

Paris swung around to look at the ensign. "Harry, my boy, you sound jealous."

"Nope, just wish the captain and Seven were back on board. Things seem different when they're not here...out of kilter."

"Harry, they're in the temporal rift, not us. And someone might think you don't like reporting to a Maquis."

"Former Maquis, Tom."

"Whatever."

In the ready room Chakotay glanced over at the Vulcan security chief.

"The Folkir have been quiet."

"Perhaps our last battle with them successfully deterred them. Quantum torpedos have a way of doing that," Tuvok said.

"They have that cloaking device."

"We don't know that it is a cloaking device, Commander. It could be the ion storm generates enough wave distortion to cloak their ship."

"Great. And we'll need to go back into Sector 653 to establish communication with the captain."

"Yes. However so far Voyager has kept one step ahead of Captain K'aflank. I am confident that we can continue to do so."

Chakotay quirked his tattoo in astonishment. "Tuvok, did you just give me a compliment?"

"I merely spoke the truth, Commander."

Chakota grinned. "Don't worry, Tuvok. I'll surrender the captain's chair to Captain Janeway when she returns with pleasure."

"I never feared otherwise, Commander. And let us hope that she has been successful in finding Seven of Nine and we get her back as well."