Caregiver

`More coffee Captain?'

`Thanks.' The stained chipped cup wobbled fractionally as Seven poured the thick dark brew. The thin, wrinkled hand holding the cup was the same bone, ivory hue except for the raised blue veins and dark liver spots. Janeway sipped it hot. At least that way she could glean some sensation from the drink. Her taste was gone completely; she may as well have been drinking hot water. The heat against her lips? That she could still enjoy. Thinking of the heat and the wetness of it, she smiled up at Seven.

`You look nice. Is that a new hair cut?'

`Yes. Do you approve?'

Janeway pretended to study the twisted arrangement of strands and plaits, and nodded. Seven acknowledged the approval, placed the coffee pot on the small side table, and began to fuss with the threadbare pillows behind her Captain's neck. Janeway allowed it, closing her eyes against the pale, winter sunlight. Even this soft light made her eyes water, or was it the cold? She wasn't sure. She wrapped her other hand around the cup, feeling the warmth spread into her permanently bent knuckles.

`Shall we go inside?'

`In a minute. I have to wait for the post.'

Seven shook her head. Such an inefficient and archaic system. Physical delivery of paper product covered with inanimate scratchings. It wasn't as if they ever received any mail; there was no one left to write. No one close, that is. Satisfied with the pillows, Seven glanced around for the broom, and began to sweep the weathered boards of the veranda. The stained, greyed timber creaked under her weight; a counterpoint to the swishing and tapping of her broom and her occasional "tch" as she dislodged a toffee wrapper or a dropped peppermint.

Voices drifted up the lane way, coming closer. Young voices, uncaring who heard them; loud, as if to challenge the fence posts, the oak trees or the placid cows. Seven frowned. Not again. Not today. It had been a while since their last visit, and it had taken her a week to settle the Captain back down into her routine. Maybe they'd pass by. Maybe. She rested the broom against the wall, thrust her hands into her pockets, and leaned against the peeling rail of the veranda.

`What is it Seven? What can you see?' Janeway swayed and craned her neck, trying to see past her friend into the dusty lane.

`Nothing. I see nothing.' But she could hear them. They wouldn't pass by today. Round the bend, and up the hill they sauntered. Only four of them, making enough noise for ten. The three boys were bumping shoulders and faking punches and straining to catch the attention of their one female companion, without actually letting on that they wanted her attention. She ignored them all, or seemed to. Nothing but an occasional biting remark directed at the more attentive male. Seven breathed deep and kidded herself that she could smell the hormones from there. The group reached the corner post of their small but tidy yard. Seven shifted up onto her toes.

`I saw that, Seven. There's someone out there. Is it those idiot kids back again?' Janeway rattled the cup into its saucer, and shifted on her cane chair, cursing her unresponsive limbs.

`Hey granny! Show us your tits!'

`Where's your fucking spaceship, Captain? Where's your fucking rocket now, you fucking wrinkled old cunt!'

`Oooo, look at the girlfriend! A bit dry to munch on these days sweetheart? I'll give you some juicy action, babe!'

`No way, man! They only like finger fucking, not real man loving. I wouldn't fuck her with your dick! Hey sweety! You wanna fuck? You wanna suck?'

`Ask her about the Big Trip again, man. Hey granny? How's the fucking gamma delta beta fucking theta zeta quadrant these days? Licked any green fucking slave cunts lately?'

Seven watched, her hands forming knots in her pockets. Janeway had forbidden her the use of the phaser after the first incident. She couldn't risk the police becoming involved again. They might take her away. Away from the Captain. It wouldn't be right.

`Hey blondie! Here's a moon of uranus! Come and explore this black hole.'

This was not right either.

The boys were leaning on the fence rail. One dropped his pants, parted his cheeks with both hands, and bent over. The corner of Seven's mouth twitched into a smile for an instant. Hmmf. A "moon" of your anus, no doubt. Seven didn't look behind her at the Captain, but she could almost feel the pursed lips, the squared shoulders and the narrowed eyes. Her defiance would last a few minutes, but she tired quickly these days. Tired and defenceless and easily hurt.

The taunts continued. The boys scaled the fence and balanced on the railing, walking with their arms out for balance. The girl watched, baiting them, urging them onto greater profanity, and the boys rose to the challenge. Seven waited silently.

`Ooo, I think you like those dried up old lesos better than me. I think you want to root them, don't you? Well she wouldn't have you and neither would I!' The girl laughed a nasal chatter, and leaned against the old fence, shaking it with both hands, trying to unbalance her consorts. Seven uncurled a hand, and reached into her coat.

`Shit!' In a domino effect, the three boys clung to each other for support, before tumbling onto the soft grass of Seven's lawn. `Fucking hell!'

Seven smiled. `You are now trespassing.' In one smooth action, she drew the phaser out from under her jacket, thumbed it up to full, took aim and fired.

`Seven, NO!' Janeway's cry came at the exact same moment as the green bolt of energy struck the soft earth inches from the lead boy's groin. He scrambled backwards, digging his heels into the turf, pushing at his friends, looking for escape. Seven aimed, and fired again, and again. The boys rolled and crawled, crying in shock and disbelief. One boy's coat was singed by a mistimed shot, another felt the hair along his arms darken and curl as the energy beam came far too close. The girl stared silently at first then began a high pitched screaming as her friends scrambled back onto the dust of the lane way. Too shocked to look back, the four miscreants pelted down the road for the safety of the woods.

Seven thumbed the phaser down and returned it to her coat pocket.

`I though I told you not to use that.'

`It was necessary. They were trespassing.' Seven turned around to see the red rimmed, watery eyes blink slowly at her, in sadness and resignation. She knelt down next to the cane chair and laid a sun-tanned hand over the pale papery skin of her Captain's hand. Janeway traced a finger against the faint scar still visible after the remaining implants had been removed.

`Seven. My Seven. Still questioning my orders.'

The borg bowed her head over the lump in her throat, reluctant even now, to admit to the pain the Captain caused her by just being . . . old. It was so unfair. She cleared her throat, trying to ignore the soft touch at her eyebrow.

`More coffee Captain?'

`Thanks. You look nice. Is that a new hair cut?'

`Yes, Captain. Do you approve?'

Seven poured the coffee, fluffed the pillows and finished her sweeping. It must have been the long shadows of afternoon that clouded her vision, or the cool winter breeze that made her eyes water.

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