In The Middle Of The Night (or Cheese And The Borg)  

Kathryn jerked awake with a gasp, calming immediately when she felt strong arms around her.

"Kathryn?" the concerned voice whispered from behind her. "Are you all right?"

Smiling, Kathryn brought her wife's left hand up, kissing the smooth metal softly. "That was, by far, the strangest dream I have ever had," Kathryn whispered. "But I'm fine."

"What was the dream about?"

Kathryn sighed. "We were here on Voyager. On the Bridge. There was a red alert, we were being chased by a hostile ship. But it wasn't a ship, it was a wedge of cheese. Then we heard this sound, like thousands of mice, all talking at once…"

Seven resisted pointing out that mice don't talk, and let Kathryn continue.

"And they said, 'We are the Cheese. Resistance is futile. Lower your shields and prepare to be a-cheese-iated.' I told Tuvok to fire phasers. They melted a little bit, but then they adapted. So I told Tuvok to fire photon torpedoes, and these huge slices of ham started flying, and hitting the cheese. But they just fell off. Then our shields fell, and these mice beamed aboard. They told us again that we'd be a-cheese-iated, and they had these huge pieces of cheese and shoved them down our throats. Then we all started turning into mice. And I woke up."

Silence reigned in the cabin for a few moments before a choked sound broke it. Kathryn twisted as best she could, glaring over her shoulder. "It's not funny!"

That exclamation only serves to heighten Seven's amusement, and she started snickering freely. After a moment, she was able to hold in her laughter and gently turned Kathryn over. "I am sorry, Kathryn. But it seems that every one of your dreams ties in with the Borg in some way. And… 'a-cheese-iated'?!" Seven said the last word in a high-pitched squeak.

Kathryn sighed. "It's your fault, you know." Seven immediately sobered. "You see, if you hadn't have made me fall in love with you, I wouldn't be pregnant right now. So I wouldn't be having strange dreams. And they're about the Borg because you're part Borg, darling."

With a roll of her pale blue eyes, Seven settled once more beside her wife, pulling her into a deeper embrace.

"Mmmm… darling?"

"Yes, Kathryn?" Seven whispered, lightly running her hand over Kathryn's side, from her thigh, over her hip, the side of her baby mound, her breast, up to her neck.

"Oooooh… Keep doing that…"

"Yes, Kathryn." Seven grinned, taking her caresses a step further, pausing to gently fondle Kathryn's breast, rubbing the nipple.

"Seven?"

"Yes, Kathryn?"

Kathryn paused. "I'm hungry," she admitted quietly.

With a loud groan, Seven flung herself backwards away from Kathryn, sprawling over the bed, one arm hanging off the edge, the other draped across her eyes. After a moment she sat up. "Kathryn," she whined.

Kathryn blushed. "It's not my fault!"

Seven got up off the bed with a sigh and a pout, heading to the replicator. She came back a moment later with a small plate. "Here," she mumbled.

Seven's annoyance immediately disappeared at the look of delight on her beloved's face as she took the plate. "Thanks, darling," she said, kissing Seven firmly. "You're the best."

"Just call me Martha Stewart," she drawled, in reference to something Kathryn had said not long after she had gotten pregnant.

Kathryn snorted a laugh. When she finished her snack and had brushed her teeth again, she climbed back into bed with her wife. "Now where were we?" she asked, her voice low.

Seven grinned, pulling Kathryn back into her arms. "I believe we were right here," she whispered, kissing Kathryn and lightly pinching a nipple.

"Oh!" Kathryn gasped, the moaned. "Yes, I think so…"