“Janeway to Tuvok.”
At his station, the slender Vulcan security officer straightened and accessed his comm badge. “Tuvok here. How may I assist you, Captain?”
“Please report to my ready room when you have a moment. Janeway out.”
Tuvok finished reviewing report logs from his security officers, then headed to the captain’s ready room. He patiently waited for the door to admit him, then stepped into the room. The captain was seated behind her desk, surrounded by a bevy of padds. She smiled as he entered, rising to greet him.
“Thank you for taking the time, Tuvok. Things are going well in Security, I trust?” Janeway stifled a smirk as she watched her chief of security resignedly engage in small talk. She settled back into her chair.
“Yes, Captain. I have reviewed all update officer logs, and there seems to be little amiss on Voyager. There was a minor scuffle last evening in Sandrine’s, petty jealousies and a rather large wager on a pool game. The crewmembers involved have been reprimanded and cited. The report was logged for your review, though I doubt,” Tuvok raised a significant eye at her padd-heavy desk, “you have had opportunity to assess the case.”
“Ah, I see. Thanks for the warning.” Janeway paused, trying to ignore the nervousness roiling throughout her body. She had called him for a specific reason, but desperately wanted to appear nonchalant about her request. She smiled again, and gestured to the seat nearby. “Please sit for a minute. I have something to ask you.”
He complied, easing himself into a chair and waiting patiently for her query. He watched the captain shuffle through the padds, her movements calm and unhurried. His body relaxed as well, for the matter, whatever it could be, was clearly not one of urgent or disturbing content. Finally, Janeway located a padd, and turned to him once more.
“I’m catching up on crew performance reviews,” she said, grimacing slightly to convey her dislike for the monotonous paperwork, “and I wanted the benefit of your impressions regarding one of our crewmembers.”
“Certainly, Captain. I would be happy to share my impressions. To whom do you refer?”
“Seven of Nine. Oh, don’t worry, I’m not concerned about her work or anything of that nature. You and I both know that she is as efficient as they come.” The captain smiled at Tuvok, who merely nodded in shared amusement. “Rather, I’m interested in your thoughts about her socialization to Voyager and the rest of the crew. How do you believe she is getting on?”
Tuvok considered carefully before he answered. The captain’s question was a difficult one, for a variety of reasons. He and Janeway were old friends, able to share honestly and openly with one another, even if such occasions were rare, reflecting the fact that, at heart, both were very private individuals. He knew that she cared about the ex-Borg astrometrics officer, that she spent personal time with her protégé, encouraging Seven of Nine to participate in artistic endeavors and social events, and helping to ease the young woman’s re-entry into human existence. Tuvok himself had grown quite fond of the ex-drone, prizing her ability to think logically and admiring her steadfast dedication to acquiring new forms of knowledge, even as she burnished her own formidable skills in scientific inquiry.
Yet, the issue of Seven’s cultural socialization was not an easy matter for all involved. It was no secret to anyone that a great number of Voyager’s crew were visibly uneasy in the ex-Borg’s presence, and he knew that this surely was upsetting for the captain, who exhibited none of the usual human limitations in dealing with Seven.
In fact, Tuvok privately wished that more of the human complement would emulate Janeway’s nonjudgmental, inviting nature when dealing with Seven. He suspected that the open suspicion and loathing demonstrated by some human crewmembers towards the ex-drone was not assisting in her overall integration, and he allowed himself to feel some small pride in the fact that Vulcan crewmembers generally treated Seven with genuine regard and respect. Vulcans, after all, were far more sophisticated in taming irrationality with logic and reason.
“Captain,” he began, “I believe that Seven of Nine is integrating to the best of her ability. As you no doubt are aware, she has formed friendships with some crew, including Naomi Wildman, the Doctor, Ensign Paris and Ensign Kim. She interacts well with staff in the astrometrics division. Furthermore, her relationship with Commander Chakotay appears to be proceeding adequately, a welcome development given the commander’s initial concerns.”
They shared a knowing nod, each remembering Chakotay’s repeated warnings that Seven would betray or abandon Voyager.
“The situation with other crewmembers, however, is not as optimistic,” he continued. “Seven does not participate often in crew activities, and she remains fairly isolated even during social gatherings. This observation, however, is in no way a reflection of her progress. Rather, I believe it reflects the personal limitations of many of our crew.”
“How do you mean, Tuvok?” Janeway asked. She had leaned back in her chair, resting her chin on steepled hands.
“It is my belief that these difficulties are in no way due to Seven of Nine. Rather, they are the cause of emotional reactions that are both illogical and unfortunate. Some of the crew, especially among the human complement, are fixated on Seven’s Borg history, refusing to acknowledge that she is indeed a human being at her core. In addition, they seem to blame Seven for many of the Collective’s transgressions. Consequently, Seven’s own attempts to participate in certain activities solely organized by individual crewmembers, such as sporting competitions and the like, have been rebuffed. I do not know if Seven still tries to gain admittance to such events.”
Tuvok stopped, becoming aware of the dismay in Janeway’s demeanor. Had she not known of these difficulties? He quirked an eyebrow at her, silently inquiring about her reaction.
The captain raised her head slowly, eyes troubled. “Tuvok…Seven has never told me about these particular difficulties. I mean, I certainly know about some uneasiness among the crew. But I thought that her social isolation, for the most part, was her own choice, due to her discomfort in social situations. I didn’t know that she was being so … rejected … by the crew.”
Janeway fell silent, her face suddenly closed. Tuvok did not disturb her thoughts, feeling the need to collect his own. He wanted to reassure the captain that her favorite protégé would find a way to overcome these obstacles, but he wasn’t sure of it. After all, he strongly believed, these shortcomings were simply not Seven’s fault. They were the outcome of irrational emotional responses by people who should know better.
He decided to break the silence. “Captain, I believe that you need not worry about Seven’s social progress. She has made significant progress in her short time away from the Collective. Other members of the crew are gradually adjusting as well. I must point out, in fact, that Lt. Torres noticeably has become more friendly with Seven. I have observed some of their interactions, and it is my opinion that B’Elanna may prove a good friend to Seven, in time, of course.”
Janeway looked at him skeptically, apparently not entirely convinced. But she merely nodded, and placed the padd down onto the table. When she spoke, her tone was markedly wearier. “Thank you, old friend. I hope you’re right.”
He caught the finality in her tone, surmised that the conversation was over, and stood up. “Captain.”
She nodded. “Dismissed.”
For long minutes, the captain simply sat in her chair, fingers tapping lightly on the armrests. She stared unseeing at her desk, only vaguely aware of the pile of padds she had strewn on it, in a conscious attempt to foster the illusion that she had, in fact, been working on personnel reports. It had been a pathetic ruse, she knew, in order to gain the advice of a dear friend. She deeply valued Tuvok’s opinion, knowing that whatever he offered would be sincere, honest, thoughtful. In all the years she had known the Vulcan, working side-by-side with him through life-and-death situations, she had learned to distinguish the feelings behind his words.
It would appear that he was quite impressed with Seven. His assessment of Seven’s social difficulties had been enlightening — both as insight into the younger woman’s lot on Voyager and as insight into Tuvok’s own personal feelings for her. Janeway was immeasurably warmed by his repeated insistence that Seven was not to blame, that the situation merely reflected emotional myopia from the crew. Such repetition was rare for Tuvok, and only served to emphasize the impression that he cared for Seven and so resented the thoughtlessness of others.
Little did he know, a sarcastic little voice uttered inside her, that she was one of the thoughtless.
The captain winced, remembering how she was currently ignoring Seven’s requests for a meeting. Just one more rejection for Seven on Voyager, she thought bitterly, cursing her own insensitivity and obtuseness.
Tuvok had believed, after all, that she was not affected by “personal limitations,” as he had carefully, condescendingly, phrased it. Could she live up to his belief? Could she put aside her worries about public perceptions, as well as a lingering personal prejudice, and come to grips with her rapidly escalating desire for the beautiful ex-Borg?
Once again, a memory of the searing kiss flooded her thoughts, and her heart began to pound.
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Seven of Nine hesitated outside the captain’s quarters. Captain Janeway had called for this meeting, asking quietly that Seven join her for dinner in her quarters at 1930 hours. Seven was 2.5 minutes early, and lingered nervously near the door. She replayed the captain’s voice in her head one more time, analyzing the subdued tone for any hint of what she should expect. Yet there was nothing significantly striking to discern clearly, at least nothing on which to base a hypothesis.
Irritated to discover that her human hand was trembling, Seven activated the door signal. In seven seconds, the door slid open to reveal a casually dressed Janeway. Who was smiling. Relieved, Seven responded with a shy smile.
“Captain.” Seven hesitated at the threshold, only entering after Janeway gestured for her to come in.
“Seven.” Janeway paused, willing her voice steady. “Thank you for coming. I’m sorry that we haven’t been able to see each other in the past few days. I apologize.”
Together, they walked to the table, which was set with fine china and some stasis bowls. Two lit candles graced the table, and elegant cloth napkins were folded on top of the plates. Seven recognized the setting as one of romance, intimacy. Her heart began to beat faster. She did this for us, she thought. Maybe Janeway was ready to fully accept the emotions that danced between them. Maybe there was a chance after all.
She heard the captain clear her throat discreetly, looked up to see the older woman gazing at her with a questioning expression. Seven realized that she had stopped in front of the table and had simply stood staring at the display. “It is … beautiful, Captain,” she said slowly, almost reverently. Her pale eyes held the captain’s for another brief moment, then she dipped her head and lowered herself onto a chair.
Janeway did the same. For long moments, the two women stared at one another across the table, each noting silently how the candlelight played on the other’s face. Softly, Janeway said, “Seven, please call me Kathryn when we are off-duty like this. I’d like that.”
“I will comply…Kathryn,” Seven responded quietly, her blue eyes seeming to darken with warmth and pleasure.
Janeway caught her breath. My god, she thought faintly, she’s more beautiful than ever. “Would you like something to eat?” she asked shakily. She realized she simply could not take her eyes off Seven’s face, gazing hungrily at how the candlelight played on those gorgeous high cheekbones, how the full wine-colored lips seemed even softer and more moist than ever before, how the eyes seemed to glow with a blue fire. Janeway knew that food was just about the last thing she wanted right now. She was losing herself in her steadily growing, conscious desire for Seven.
Seven shook her head slowly. “I would rather continue our … conversation, Kathryn. May we eat at another time? I do not wish to offend you. This display is wonderful. It is just that…you are so beautiful… and I wish to…concentrate on you at this moment.”
The younger woman suddenly found it difficult to form her sentences. She was becoming progressively unnerved by how Janeway was gazing at her. The expression in those blue-gray eyes was different than at any other time in Seven’s memory. Her captain’s eyes had turned feral, bold, possessive. A slight shiver worked its way up Seven’s spine, intriguing her. Was this erotic arousal, she wondered, was this sexual anticipation?
She was not surprised when Janeway stood up, nodded her assent to Seven’s request, and motioned to the couch. The two women silently moved to the couch, where Janeway settled herself close to Seven, yet not daring to touch the younger woman. Not yet, the captain decided. She didn’t trust herself completely at the moment.
“Seven,” she began, her voice low and husky, “I am sorry for running out on you that day. I was confused and more than a little…uncertain. Please, forgive me.”
Seven smiled gently, her blue eyes growing impossibly softer. “Cap-, Kathryn, there is no reason to apologize. I realize I may have broached the subject too quickly. What are your thoughts on the matter now? May we discuss our emotions?”
“Yes, Seven,” said Janeway with a tremulous smile. “We most certainly may.” She paused, looking down at her hands, then up again at Seven, who waited patiently.
Janeway ran a trembling hand through her hair, steadying her senses before she dared speak again. In her mind, she rehearsed words that she had conjured a short while ago, words more formal than usual, but hopefully just right with Seven. “You were correct, Seven. I want you… in a more intimate, sexual manner. I am very attracted to you, and would like to initiate a romantic relationship with you. However, because of my position as captain, there are some privacy considerations we should discuss.”
The younger woman gently interrupted, guessing at the other’s meaning. “You are captain. Therefore, you are uncomfortable with public displays of affection. We must be discreet?”
Relieved, Janeway nodded. “For a while at least, I would like this relationship to be just between us.”
Seven was silent, gazing at her evenly. The captain watched her examine these words, turning them over in her head to discern their true meaning. Suddenly, the captain became uneasy. Then Seven spoke, uncertainly, “So you do not merely wish to abstain from public demonstrations. You wish also to abstain from public acknowledgment of a romantic relationship with me? Are you … ashamed?”
Janeway’s heart began beating faster, and she felt a slight chill spreading in her stomach. She reached for Seven’s hands, grasping them in her own. She saw the other woman’s eyes widen, felt her draw in deeper breaths at this sudden physical contact. Janeway spoke quickly, “No, Seven. No. It’s only for a little while. Just so we can be comfortable with this change ourselves. Then, when we are comfortable, we can move to the next level – finding ways to let the crew know. Ways that will help make everyone feel comfortable with the fact that their captain is involved with another crewmember.”
The older woman paused, bringing Seven’s hands up to her lips, and gently kissed both palms. A small smile tilted her lips as she felt the other woman tremble in response. She spoke again, a low, throaty voice. “We don’t need to talk about that next step yet. We can concentrate solely on each other right now. Is that alright with you?”
Her hands captured in warmth and softness, her senses tingling with anticipation, Seven smiled in clear relief. “Ah. I see. You wish no interference from external parties. You wish to build a strong foundation before allowing external input into our relationship.” She nodded. “That is acceptable. I shall not mention it to anyone else.”
Janeway smiled her appreciation. The flutters in her stomach dissipated. She didn’t want to hurt Seven with the knowledge of her own uneasiness with the ex-Borg. That was something time would solve, she thought confidently. Later, she told herself, she would deal with everyone else and their perceptions of the relationship. Tonight, however, was only about her and Seven of Nine.
The captain moved closer to Seven, her gaze turning feral once more, a bold sensuality outlining her lips. She reached out with one hand, playing it on Seven’s cheek, feeling the blonde’s sharp intake of breath. Seven’s eyes had darkened considerably, and were now shining like two perfect sapphires bathed in backlight. Janeway leaned into Seven’s face, captivated by those shining eyes. The captain then closed her eyes, feeling Seven’s steady breath on her face, her lips. She leaned in closer, allowing her lips to murmur across Seven’s cheek, down her jaw. Unable to wait any longer, she pulled the younger woman roughly to her, claiming those full lips in a deep, open kiss.
Seven moaned softly, slowly overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through her body. So much to feel, everywhere on her body – her lips, her face, the ache in her chest, between her legs. The trembling all over. She fed on Janeway’s lips, losing herself in kisses that seemed to go on forever, the two women synchronizing breaths almost effortlessly, hands moving over breasts, chest, hips.
Seven didn’t know how long they kissed on the sofa, didn’t care at all, for all she cared about was that Kathryn was finally in her arms and it felt right. The most right feeling she had ever experienced in her life.
Janeway’s lips finally left Seven’s mouth, moving slowly, maddeningly down the blonde’s long arched neck. Seven closed her eyes, her senses reduced to a sheer focus on the movement of that hot mouth. She moaned softly, gasping as Janeway nipped her neck and bit into a shoulder.
“If you don’t take this thing off, Seven, I’m going to rip it off.” Janeway’s words were delivered in the lowest, huskiest voice Seven had ever heard her use, igniting erotic chills through her body. With one trembling hand, Seven rapidly manipulated the clasp around her neck. Her biosuit quickly unwound, spilling down over her full breasts. Janeway suddenly sat back, staring at Seven with narrowed, hooded eyes.
“Take it off,” ordered that same husky voice.
Swallowing hard, Seven stood up and let the biosuit fall to the floor. She gazed down at it, taking deep breaths, suddenly too shy to look at Janeway. Her emotions were hammering away at her faculties, making it difficult for her to think.
“You’re so beautiful.” The captain’s whisper was like a soft slither, winding through Seven’s arousal, echoing eerily in her consciousness. The blonde woman continued to look at the floor, only semi-aware that the captain was now standing up, slowly undressing right in front of her, those hooded eyes never leaving her face.
A nude Janeway stood before Seven, luxuriating in her sudden sensual power over the shy Borg. She reached out with both hands, playing her fingertips on the other woman’s full breasts, yet barely touching them. It was a teasing play, easily reaching its goal of arousing the nipples into hardness. And still she continued to play with Seven’s breasts, her eyes never leaving the down turned face, silently daring the younger woman to look at her.
Finally, Seven raised her face, desire clearly written in her eyes, her mouth arching towards Janeway’s face. Quickly, Seven captured the captain’s lips in another open, endless kiss, while her strong hands captured the captain’s playful ones, pinning them behind the captain as she pulled the smaller woman into a tight embrace.
Janeway gasped as she suddenly felt the cool metal of the Borg’s abdominal implant. She felt some of the ridges pressing into her flesh. The contrast was stark in its simplicity, cool metal on hot flesh. She wondered at how something could feel so erotic, yet be so disturbing. She fought this thought, determined to focus on nothing but this woman who held her so tightly, this woman who she ached to hold, and who so clearly wanted her in return. She pressed deeper into Seven’s mouth, desperate to banish her doubts in a welter of sensuality.
She pushed Seven down onto the couch, covering the voluptuous body with her own. Leaving openmouthed kisses down Seven’s neck, Janeway stroked the full breasts, pulling at the distended hard nipples until the younger woman groaned in frustration. Then she covered one breast with her mouth, swirling her tongue around the nipple, glorying in the sweet taste of Seven’s flesh. Her left hand continued to tease the other nipple, while her right hand continued its descent, skipping over the abdominal implant to rest in soft, moist hairs at the juncture of Seven’s legs. Her fingers lightly played over the sensitive flesh, then dipped slowly into the wet folds, rubbing in slow erotic circles over a small, sensitive nub.
Seven was experiencing great difficulty in breathing, her senses flooding with unfamiliar aches and relentless yearnings. She tried to isolate Janeway’s movements in her mind -- the tongue and the fingers, the hand on her breast – but discovered that these sensations were blurring into a maddening ecstasy. Her eyes had closed of their own accord, and Seven swallowed as she felt her hips begin to jerk in response to Janeway’s insistent fingers. “Please,” Seven gasped, barely recognizing her own voice. “Kathryn.”
Janeway nipped Seven’s nipple one last time, then raised her face. She gazed at the blonde’s face, smiling wickedly at the stark need lining it. “What do you want, Seven? Tell me,” she whispered, her fingers never stopping their slow dance.
Seven gasped, her breath coming in short rasps. “Please….”
Janeway raised her head further, her lips brushing Seven’s ear. She whispered again, “Tell me.”
Seven was almost sobbing now, the sensations nearly too much for her to handle. Her hips jerked around Janeway’s hands, the sensation building quickly to a fever peak. She didn’t know how to formulate a response, she only knew that she wanted… “More,” she whispered. “Please.”
Janeway blew a hot breath into the other woman’s ear, smiling as she saw Seven shiver and swallow. “Yes, darling. Whatever you want.” The captain moved her other hand down between Seven’s legs. She gently worked one finger into the folds, dipping further than ever before.
Seven cried out at the penetration, her arms gripping Janeway closer. “Yes,” she gasped. She moaned again when Janeway added another finger and began a rhythmic thrusting motion, even as that first hand continued to circle the nub. Seven closed her eyes, all thought swept from her mind. She knew only sensation, a mad, pulsing sensation that seemed to pull her into heights she never knew existed. She cried out as her hips jerked spastically, her back arching helplessly into Janeway’s body, her arms pulling the other woman into a tighter embrace.
Later, the captain held her trembling lover, whispering soft words of care. When Seven finally opened her eyes, revealing impossibly deep blue shades of wonder and love, they kissed again, passionately and sweetly.
And began again.
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B’Elanna Torres glanced up from her console, her eyes traveling to the figure of Seven of Nine, who was punching equations into a console with an almost fierce rapidity. B’Elanna knew that something was bothering the unusually silent, taciturn ex-drone. Somehow, she knew, it involved the captain. The two women, typically friendly and warm with one another, probably had had some sort of argument, thought B’Elanna. That was only reason she could think of to explain the sudden distance between them.
In the past few days, B’Elanna had noticed that Captain Janeway was less prone to speak with Seven, during officers meetings or even in minor consultations with Engineering, where the Borg frequently worked these days helping to evaluate the dilithium situation. And, on more than one occasion, B’Elanna had caught the Borg glancing at the captain with a strange expression, one denoting hurt and confusion. That is, if the blonde Borg was capable of such human emotions. It was hard to tell with Seven, B’Elanna reflected. The ex-drone tended to keep herself aloof from the rest of the crew, with the exception of the captain, the doctor and Naomi.
B’Elanna shrugged. It really was not her business. Yet, a part of the Klingon had warmed to the blonde Borg over the last year. She could swear that, at times, she had detected warmth and humor in those pale blue eyes. Other times, she even had glimpsed a faint smile, usually when the Borg was in the company of Naomi or the captain. Maybe she should make an effort to talk more frequently with Seven, thought B’Elanna. After all, none of them knew what it was like to be a member of the Borg Collective, B’Elanna suppressed a sudden shudder, and then be thrown into individuality under the watch of one Captain Janeway.
“Lt. Torres, may I assist you?” came a cool query from Seven.
B’Elanna shook herself, realizing she had stopped her work and had been staring, unfocused, at Seven. “What? Oh, sorry, Seven. I was just wondering…how have you been recently? You’ve seemed, well, a little out of sorts.”
Seven arched her left brow and stiffened. “Indeed. It is nothing. I merely wish to solve this problem. That is all.” Seven turned back to her console, clearly dismissing the short exchange.
B’Elanna shrugged again. Fine, she thought. Whatever.
At her console, Seven braced her arms on the cool metal, attempting to mimic deep concentration on the readings. ‘I must be more careful,’ she berated herself silently. ‘Perhaps my irritation with Kathryn is becoming apparent to others. That must not happen again.’ She took a deep breath and began another series of calculations, but her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of her lover.
It was difficult for Seven to know how to handle the situation. While she wanted sincerely to defer to Janeway’s judgment and move slowly within the confines of a hidden relationship, she was not pleased with the other woman’s adaptation skills. The captain had started to shy away from normal contact with Seven in public settings, even neglecting rather routine interactions during consultation meetings. More than once, Seven had forced herself to check her temper, careful not to push Janeway into a public confrontation. Perhaps B’Elanna’s question reflected the fact that public disputes between the captain and Seven had declined dramatically, she thought suddenly.
Maybe she should discuss this with the captain and, together, they could manufacture some arguments, in order to maintain the illusion of a status quo relationship. Seven’s face tightened at this thought. No, she decided. She would not do more to hide the relationship. Already, her impatience was growing, cognizant of the fact that it had been seven full days since that first passionate evening in the captain’s quarters.
Moreover, Janeway’s growing public coldness was becoming increasingly unacceptable to the blonde Borg. In truth, it was hurting her. The dichotomy between the private Kathryn and the public Janeway was painful to experience. It was as though Seven suddenly was dealing with two entirely different people, and she was tired of it.
Long evenings were now spent in the captain’s quarters, sharing hours of ardent lovemaking, immersing herself in Kathryn’s embraces, drowning in the other woman’s sweet murmurings and passionate kisses. It did not even bother Seven that Janeway never allowed the Borg to spend the night, rather insisting that Seven return to Cargo Bay Two, lest her extended presence in the captain’s quarters arouse suspicion. Janeway had explained that, while Seven’s interest in philosophical discussions with the captain was well-established, as was the fact that such discussions often occurred at odd hours, it still would be unseemly for these ‘discussions’ suddenly to span entire evenings.
Seven accepted this logic, recognizing that Janeway needed time and space to adapt to this new phase of their relationship. But the public coolness must abate, she decided. It was beginning to hurt her too much, distracting from her duties and hindering her own efficiency. She would speak with Kathryn tonight. That is, if the woman agreed to see her. After all, they did not meet every night, for that, according to Kathryn, also would arouse too much interest.
While these constraints annoyed the younger woman, she saw them as merely transitory irritants. Once Kathryn became more comfortable, then Seven would begin to assert her own needs in the relationship. The current power imbalance, she reasoned, was merely a temporary alignment, and one in which she had complied willingly. At some level, Seven felt far more confident and assured of the relationship than Kathryn, and this strength enabled her to indulge the older woman in what Seven considered utterly human frailties – insecurity about hierarchical boundaries, inability to adapt quickly to change, an odd urge to cling to overly strict formalities.
After all, thought Seven, the only real problem for Kathryn was in navigating the protocol between captain and lover. Once that hurdle was overcome, these irritants would surely disappear.
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