First Person, Singular

I

To say I was lonely would be like saying we were just a hop, skip and a jump away from the alpha quadrant. Both would be gross understatements. It is true that there were enough ship-related incidents to keep me focused. Along with one hundred fifty members of Voyager's crew, I expended a lot of time and energy in just keeping us safe, moving in the general direction of home. You could say that being in uncharted territory prevented me from being bored. There was a never-ending series of ship malfunctions coupled with hostile alien species to prevent that from ever occurring. On the other hand, my personal life or the lack thereof was becoming increasingly troublesome.

Yes, I could always find projects to keep me busy and I did make occasional attempts to interact with my crew. I'm sure they just loved my surprise visits to them during beta and gamma shifts. I would never admit that it was insomnia taking me back to the bridge. I looked to be the very efficient captain but in reality, efficiency had nothing to do with it.

When I did return to my quarters, waves of loneliness would wash over me and frankly, I felt like I was drowning. The pressures of being lost in the delta quadrant were enormous. All of a captain's responsibilities; the lives of the crew, the day-to-day decisions were weighing heavily on me. Sleep, once easy and plentiful was now disturbed, and my formerly voracious appetite was relatively non-existent. Increasingly often, I found myself longing for comforting arms, a soothing voice, someone to snuggle with. On top of that, I had an overactive inner voice that had no trouble egging me on, harassing me at every opportunity. She was a constant reminder to me that I was tired of having to always be in charge. Truth be told, I wanted nothing more than to retire to my quarters and have someone waiting there for me. I needed someone who would share the little triumphs and successes and still be there to allow me to cry when I was frustrated, even allow me to not be captain - if only for a few hours. The combined effects of Starfleet policy and my own self-imposed non-fraternization tenets were starting to irk me. I was experiencing an internal revolution, beginning to do battle with those policies. And, my inner voice often pitched in, having no compulsion to add fuel to the fire.

In weaker moments, I found myself peering intently at my crew, trying to imagine who was relationship material. It would have to be someone that matched me intellectually, that shared similar interests. That would be no easy task, dealing with me on a personal level. As it turned out, none of them was remotely interesting or held any fascination for me.

"Not true. There is one." The little voice whispered.

But I wouldn't listen.

When not on duty or overseeing different shifts, I busied myself by reading old novels, visiting Maestro DaVinci and playing Velocity with Seven of Nine. Seven, born Annika Hansen and most recently known as the Tertiary Adjutant to Unimatrix 01, had spent the major part of her life as a Borg drone. Now, she was the one bright spot in my less than exciting personal life. In fact, just thinking about her made me smile. Part of me was ready to resign myself to a life of solitude and isolation. The other part, the noisier, bossier half, cried out for change. As it turns out, I opted for change.

I was putting the finishing touches on a rather boring monthly status report when my COM badge chirped. It was Seven.

"Captain, I must cancel our afternoon Velocity match."

Naturally, I hid my disappointment but I told her that we would re-schedule and play some other time. I was just about to end communications when she added, "I have a favor to ask of you, Captain."

This was different. Seven rarely asked for anything, much less a favor. "My ocular implant is malfunctioning. I must have the implant re-calibrated as my vision is less than perfect."

I suppressed a chuckle at her comment, her less than perfect vision. Despite being severed from the Borg collective, perfection was important to her.

"Would you accompany me this afternoon while the doctor repairs the damaged nodes?"

I hesitated for a second giving Seven the opportunity to explain.

"For some reason, I am experiencing some apprehension and-"

"Yes, Seven, of course. I'll meet you in sick bay at 1600 hours."

"Thank you, Captain."

It was a simple request. I could not understand why I was suddenly happy.

It is nearly impossible to predict how any given shift would be. Some days were problem-free while others required constant attention to just about everything. This was one of those days with an asteroid belt in our path, a leaking plasma array that needed immediate attention, and an off-line replicator. It made me think that my crew knew I had to be some place and they were hell bent on preventing me from that destination. Or perhaps, just maybe, I was over reacting. At any rate, I found myself practically running down the corridor leading to Sick Bay. When the door slid open, I immediately spotted Seven lying on a bio bed with the EMH hovering over her. For a brief second, I thought I saw a glimmer of relief register on Seven's face.

"Really, Katie?" my inner voice chided. "Relief on the impassive face of a Borg. Don't you wish?"

I offered her a hasty apology and took up my position, an empty chair located on Seven's right. Her head was turned ever so slightly toward me as the doctor began re-calibrating the first of a series of ocular sensors. I made every attempt to watch him work but it was Seven that really held my attention. That position of her head afforded me a close-up view of her face. I attempted some one-sided chatter, talking about the ship's series of minor emergencies, all the time drinking in her large blue-gray eyes, flawless creamy skin, and sensuous mouth.

Wait a minute, I thought to myself. What are you thinking?

At one point, I noticed the formation of a tiny tear and watched as Seven tried in vain to prevent it from spilling down her cheek. "Are you in pain, Seven?" I asked, then looked to the doctor for an immediate explanation.

"No." she responded flatly. "But I think the doctors' calibration has inadvertently triggered a memory."

The doctor stopped for a moment, clearly aghast that he might be the cause of Sevens' discomfort.

"I just had a flash-back. I saw myself as I was being assimilated. It was the time the Borg took my left eye."

Without thinking, I reached for Seven's hand.

"No one is ever going to hurt you like that again." I vowed.

"That statement is inaccurate. You cannot guarantee that." There was a decided edge to her voice.

I thought about my promise and then I remembered our recent run in with the Borg queen.

"You are right, Seven. All I can safely say is that I will do absolutely everything in my power to prevent that from happening again."

"Thank you, Captain." She said, softly.

It was at that very moment that I realized I had been gently stroking the top of her hand, luxuriating in the softness of her skin, feeling the strength in her long, tapered fingers. Instead of her hand resting under mine, she was actually holding my hand. For a few minutes, I was happy. Of course, for the same time period, the doctor was miserable. Along with everyone else on Voyager, I heard rumors of the doctor's romantic interest in Seven.

He snorted his dissatisfaction.

I ignored him.

I will admit that at the time, I wasn't overtly sensitive to his holographic feelings.

But, this wasn't about him.

It was about me.

When he informed us that the procedure was completed, I was terribly disappointed. It had not taken much time; thirty seven point four minutes according to Seven.

"You can go now, Captain."

The doctor's tone was excessively cheerful.

"Then I will return to Cargo Bay 2 to regenerate." Seven said, as she attempted to sit up.

"You'll do no such thing." He insisted. "You need to take it easy for a while."

I don't know what possessed me to ask if she needed special monitoring or if there was any medical reason why she couldn't recuperate in my quarters.

"No, but...." He stammered.

I looked to Seven, to see if that met with her approval.

"Yes, that would be acceptable to me." She announced, turning and swinging her legs off the biobed. I saw her pause as if expecting a wave of dizziness to hit her.

The doctor was not happy with me and did a poor job of hiding a scowl.

"Try to take it slowly, Seven. Your vision is fine but you may need a little time to re-adjust. Then, an 8 hour regeneration session should do the trick."

I had us transported directly to my quarters and watched as Seven stood stiffly, wrists clasped behind her back, totally unsure of how to proceed. I urged her to sit on the couch and make herself comfortable.

I excused myself long enough to change into a pair of gray, loose-fitting drawstring pants and a matching short-sleeved cotton shirt. Then I programmed some early 20th century music, replicated a cup of coffee, and rejoined her in my sitting room.

"Interesting music, Captain." She commented.

I told her that since we were in my quarters and definitely off duty, calling me Kathryn would suffice. For a brief moment, I thought I saw her face brighten at that suggestion. Despite our spending time together on the holodeck and during our many Velocity matches, I had never allowed her that familiarity.

We sat in silence for a while, listening to music, just being. At the end of a particularly beautiful interlude, I told her what I knew about the Gershwins, describing how George wrote the music and his brother Ira wrote the lyrics. I had programmed the computer to play "Rhapsody in Blue" and "An American in Paris", then switched to "Porgy and Bess" and some of their lesser known show tunes.

Much to my delight and definite surprise, instead of her usual comments regarding music being an inefficient waste of time, Seven appeared to enjoy what was playing. She even seemed surprised that the same composer could write classical music as well as what would have been considered popular music.

I decided that having her recuperate in my quarters was a stroke of genius. I enjoyed our discussions, loved teaching Seven as well as learning from her.

I should have expected it when, after an unusually lengthy period of silence, she asked me to describe the reason that humans held hands. She had been paying attention in Sick Bay, after all.

I wasn't sure how to approach the subject, finally taking the easiest route. I explained that it was a means of comforting someone, a gentle reminder that another person was there, wanting to ease suffering or pain and helping to share an experience, whether good or bad.

"It is strictly an act of comfort then." She mused.

"No," I stumbled for words. "It can also be a sign of affection between two people.

Seven grew silent, placated by my answer. So I thought.

"When I was in Sick Bay you held my hand." She stated, simply.

I felt my stomach drop.

"Was that an act of comfort or a sign of affection?" Two innocent blue eyes searched my face, waiting for an answer.

"Comfort." I blurted out, a bit too rapidly. Damn!

"I see." She whispered. Clearly, I hadn't given her the answer she wanted and an uncomfortable silence enveloped us. Well, relative silence for my inner voice berated me for my inaccurate response.

Abruptly, as if a bell went off, Seven rose, stating "It has been two hours and twenty five minutes. I must return to Cargo Bay 2 to regenerate."

I walked her to the door and swore that I heard her mumble something about two human customs in one day.

When the door slid shut, I exhaled, realizing that Seven's question had completely caught me off guard.

"Why didn't you tell her the truth, Katie?" my inner voice questioned. "You know it was more than an act of comfort."

Maybe yes. Maybe no. I simply was not ready to deal with my emotions. After all, I was captain of an Intrepid-class star ship. I needed to be in control. I wasn't supposed to have feelings for another crewmember.

"She's not an official member of your crew, Katie."

The words went round and round in my head. Starfleet Rules and Regulations...no personal relationships...delta quadrant....crew morale....my morale...

Despite the internal struggle, what really struck me was the difference Seven's presence had made. The air temperature in my quarters remained the same and I had not adjusted the ambient lighting. Yet, once she walked out, it seemed both colder and darker. Wrapping myself in a blanket, I attempted to read a book of Italian poetry but when I caught myself reading and re-reading the same sentence for the fifth time, I gave up.

I was still doing battle with my demons when I retired for bed. Even as I crawled under the covers, I was berating myself for having ducked Seven's question.

Two hours later, I was still tossing and turning, unable to sleep, unable to concentrate on anything but the fact that had I been honest with the beautiful Borg, she might have still been in my quarters with me. At 0230, I dragged myself out of bed, hastily threw on some clothes, and began aimlessly wandering the ship. After a quick cup of coffee in the Mess Hall, I walked the corridors of several decks and just in case she was there, I peeked inside the Astrometrics lab. Without thinking, I ended up in front of Cargo Bay 2.

"Gee, Katie. What a coincidence."

The door slid open and after a momentary hesitation, I stepped inside to look for Seven.

There, amidst a series of coils and softly humming instruments, I found her. She was standing quietly, eyes closed, face bathed in green light, hands out at her sides. As was habit, I leaned on the wall, watching her for an indeterminable amount of time. Normally, I just gazed. This time, I wished she would wake up. She looked so incredibly peaceful that I envied her the ability to simply shut down. I could not remember the last time I slept as soundly.

For some strange reason, I walked up and touched her hand. I wanted.no, that's not right. I craved the feel of her soft skin, her fingers wrapped around mine.

"I am no longer in need of comfort, Captain."

I could not prevent the little gasp that escaped and Seven immediately apologized for having startled me.

"What is it you want, Captain?" she asked, her voice just above a whisper.

Good question.

"I have been unable to sleep since you left my quarters."

"And you chose to share this experience with me?"

I guess I still wasn't ready to be honest with her. Instead, I apologized for my breach of etiquette and beat a hasty retreat to my quarters.

II

The next day, we received a communication from one of our probes, it's long range sensors indicating a class "M" planet that appeared to be uninhabited. Although it was ten light years out of our way, it's large deposits of dilithium crystals and the possibility of a little shore leave more than made up for the detour.

I gave Tom Paris the order to set a course for the planet and had Commander Chakotay assemble a suitable away team. Within eight hours, we were orbiting what appeared to be a deserted planet with several sizeable land masses that were surrounded by intensely blue water. The only detectable life forms were mostly of the furry, four-legged kind; voles and other small rodents, some larger bovine-like mammals and a huge assortment of birds. Nothing in our readings led us to believe that there was anything even remotely dangerous, increasing the likelihood that we would all soon be partaking in some much-needed R & R.

I, for one, looked forward to taking a nice, long swim in something other than a holodeck program.

I gave the away team the go-ahead and the little shuttle craft took off. The team was comprised of Tuvok, B'Elanna Torres, Ensign Wildman and Seven of Nine, along with two members of Security. I considered them among the best and brightest, although I'd never admit that out loud. I retired to my ready-room, anxious to hear what the team found.

Ninety minutes into the trip, Tuvok transmitted his first report. The mission was on schedule, there were no signs of hostile elements, the dilithium deposits were easily obtainable. There was some background hum, a little buzzing sound but essentially, there was nothing to worry about.

But worry, I did. As captain, any time members of my crew were on an away mission, I worried and didn't relax until they were safely back on board. This trip was no different. Well, maybe a little different. Seven was with them. I knew I would feel much better upon her safe return. And theirs.

A later report noted areas dense with shade trees, mossy green forests with gently flowing rivers, white sandy beaches with crystal clear, aquamarine-hued water. The air temperature was a very comfortable 28 degrees Celsius. There was nothing out of the ordinary save for a plant species that closely resembled the poison ivy of Earth. That, and the insect-like buzz. With no harmful rays or dangerous wildlife, there was really nothing to prevent us from partaking of this paradise.

I was ready to start work on a shore leave schedule.

We were a little over nine hours into the mission when I heard Tuvok's voice hailing me.

"Yes, Tuvok. Go ahead."

"There is a problem, Captain. Seven of Nine has vanished."

I felt my stomach drop.

"You mean she wandered off and you can't locate her?"

There were times when Seven was known to break protocol. I thought it possible that something intrigued her and she went off to investigate.

"No, Captain. She did not wander. She was right here with the team…..xxxxxxxx…..said she was not feeling well…..xxxxxxxxxxxxx…..vanished. The background buzzing increased in intensity, making it hard to hear him.

I immediately ordered the away team back to Voyager.

Several minutes later, Tuvok contacted me again. I hoped it was to tell me that they located Seven. Instead, it was more bad news.

"We are experiencing technical difficulty with the shuttle. All systems appear to be off line."

I suggested that he abandon the craft temporarily and beam the team back on board.

"Negative, Captain. Voyager is unable to get an adequate lock on us. There is something preventing us from leaving the planet surface.

I asked him for updates at fifteen minute intervals.

Then, I waited and I worried, agonizing over Seven's whereabouts and her safety. I couldn't help but wonder if I had severed her from the Borg collective only to have her die on this seemingly innocent planet.

"And, you never told her, Katie."

Not now. Please. I didn't have the energy or the inclination to do battle….with myself.

With Vulcan-like precision, the updates were transmitted every fifteen minutes. Tuvok wouldn't allow anything else. Of course, given my state of mind, it would have been reckless not to follow my orders.

Three hours later, the shuttle's systems were back on line, functioning within normal limits and able to return to Voyager. Oddly enough, there didn't seem to be any reason for the problems. It was as if someone had simply switched off all of the systems. B'Elanna ran a series of diagnostics and once everything checked out, the shuttle was ready to return.

Chakotay, Tom and Harry assembled in my ready room while the rest of the team followed shortly behind. I asked the EMH to join us, hoping that he might have a different take on Seven's disappearance. I beckoned them to be seated, trying hard not to show how truly upset I was.

"What happened?"

I demanded that they start from the beginning, agonizing as they went over their findings, noting every minute detail. After two grueling hours, there wasn't anything of note, not a damned thing out of the ordinary.

Then, B'Elanna described the last time she saw Seven.

"We walked 8 kilometers, coming to what could best be described as a village, complete with a gathering area and small water fountain. There were individual dwellings, all deserted."

She described the windowed structures as red in color, made of a clay and cement-like mixture, well-kept, but absolutely no signs of life.

"Except for a high-pitched whine, almost a buzz. Very insect-like."

Ensign Wildman added little except to note, "There was a gentle breeze, more like a flutter."

"What about Seven? Was she transported to another location, was she attacked?"

"We were standing in the middle of a room, scanning for life signs." B'Elanna started again. "It certainly looked like we were in an inhabited area. There were chairs, tables, sofas. Everything was neat and clean, very well cared for. No dust. No signs of decay. No skeletal remains."

I turned to Tuvok, who nodded that he agreed with B'Elanna's description.

I urged her to continue.

"I turned to ask Seven what she made of all of that buzzing when I found her leaning on a wall, her fingers pressed against her ocular implant. When I asked if she was ok, she said that she was experiencing some dizziness and thought that her implant was malfunctioning. Then, she began to shake, there was the briefest flash of light, and she…well, she disintegrated."

"That's it?" I was hoping for more information, something to go on.

"There is one thing, Captain." Tuvok interjected. "Seven was speaking in her normal tone of voice; slow, carefully chosen words…"

"And?"

"And when she said she was malfunctioning, it sounded odd."

"Yes" B'Elanna interrupted. "I noticed that, too. Her words came out 'mal', then 'functioning' was uttered very rapidly. I almost missed what she was saying."

"Doctor, is any of this related to Seven's recently calibrated ocular implant?"

"Absolutely not, Captain. She was fine, her vision back to it's usual 99.997% accuracy."

I asked if any of her implants could have reacted with the dilithium, causing something to short circuit.

He looked shocked, thinking I was accusing him of leaving her in an unstable state.

"Captain, I resent this line of questioning. I would never…."

Raising my right hand, I silenced him.

"I'm not accusing you of malpractice. I'm just trying to find out what happened. I sent six people to the planet surface and only five came back. I need answers." I said as I pounded on the table.

No one spoke. No one dared to. I asked them to review their findings, check all tri-corder readings then recheck them, adding

"We don't leave orbit until we find out what happened to Seven."

And, I dismissed them.

For six long days we orbited that planet, performing one type of scan after another. There was no communication from the planet surface, lots of buzzing but nothing to report. None of the surviving members of the away team found anything new or different. The bottom line was that Seven had disappeared, leaving no trace. There was nothing to explain what had gone wrong.

I was sitting in my Ready Room, attempting to review B'Elanna's most recent engineering report when Tuvok paid me a visit.

"A moment of your time, Captain."

I ushered him in, pointing to a seat at the table.

"Seven meant a great deal to you."

I winced at his use of the past tense.

"All of the members of my crew are important to me, Tuvok."

"Indeed. I did not mean to imply anything less. But, you had a different relationship with her. It was apparent to me that you cared a great deal for her.

I wondered if I was incredibly transparent or if Tuvok had somehow become aware of my internal conflicts. All I could manage to say was, "Yes."

"I, too, held her in high regard."

I had a good idea where Tuvok was headed.

"It has already been six days since her disappearance. In that time, we have found nothing, not a clue nor trace of Seven. It would be illogical to assume that she is still alive." He added.

I felt my emotions churn as I gripped the arm rests, my knuckles whitening in the process.

"We cannot remain here indefinitely."

There. He said it.

I nodded, knowing he was being totally rational in his assessment of the situation. Clearly, my emotions were governing my words and my actions and as a friend, he felt the need to remind me of my responsibilities. Only a good friend could do that.

I mustered a very weak "Thank you, Tuvok" and he left me alone to grieve.

I had been keeping to myself lest I take my sorrows out on any of the members of the crew. With little sleep and barely enough food to sustain life, I was a formidable person for anyone to deal with. In fact, I could barely stand to be with myself. My crew was wise to avoid me.

In weaker moments, I would recall some of our Velocity matches, how Seven desperately tried to beat me. I remembered what it was like to see her drink her first glass of champagne. In my mind's eye, I could envision her trying to figure out what to do with watermelon pits and whether or not she should attempt to eat the shell of a lobster. Sobs would catch in my throat and I couldn't stanch the flow of tears. I was grateful that no one saw me in this state.

The next day, B'Elanna asked me for permission to return to the planet surface.

"Why?"

"I just want to make certain that we didn't miss anything, Captain."

"It's potentially dangerous, B'Elanna. I don't want to run the risk of losing you, too."

It was possibly the kindest thing I had said to anyone in a week.

Then I thought about Tuvok's comment and I knew that I wouldn't allow us to leave until we had exhausted every possibility.

"Alright, B'Elanna. But, I'd like to accompany you."

She wasn't happy with my decision.

Both Tuvok and Chakotay took turns trying to dissuade me.

No amount of discussion could change my mind. To each, I repeated the same thing.

"We're not leaving orbit until we find out."

It was like a mantra playing over and over in my head.

The doctor, already miffed at me, made a not-so-veiled threat to remove me from active duty.

"You're not getting enough sleep and you're hardly eating. Although at this time it would be premature to suggest that you are unable to perform your duties, as EMH I must remind you that should that happen...."

I cut him off, subtly reminding him of his own special relationship with Seven. The doctor begrudgingly gave me a little more time. I had 48 hours.

Tom offered to pilot the shuttle, Not to be outdone, Harry volunteered his services. I accepted their offers graciously, though I could tell that they were doing it so that we'd all get some closure and finally move on.

Tom plotted a course that would land the shuttle approximately five kilometers from the abandoned city.

Despite the grief it had caused me, I couldn't help but appreciate the planet's beauty. There were snow-capped mountains, sparking waters, lush greenery. It would have been idyllic had it not cost me my Borg. Yes, I thought, she has always been 'my Borg'.

In my mind's eye, I could see her sitting and listening to music, our last time together.

"Are you alright, Captain"

It was B'Elanna, seated closest to me, hearing my sigh of despair. "We can take you back and go on ahead."

"I'm fine."

Once the shuttle craft was safely on the ground, I asked B'Elanna to lead the way. As we walked toward the village, she pointed out the various places visited by the first away team. With each step, I began to experience a growing sense of dread. This was it. If we didn't find Seven we'd be on our way. My heart hurt.

Then, the buzzing started. A low hum at first, it grew in intensity, like an angry swarm of insects whose hive was being disturbed. Scans showed nothing, a minor flux in energy but nothing that resembled a life form.

We entered one of the cottages, a terra cotta colored structure that was reminiscent of Earth's Spanish-style architecture.

There were simply constructed chairs with cane-like backings. The walls were mostly unadorned but several intricately woven rugs were scattered about. Several cast-iron pots hung in rows next to the fireplace.

"This is different." B'Elanna announced.

I rushed to her side.

"I don't recall seeing this bowl of fruit."

I suggested that it could have been missed but B'Elanna was insistent. "There has got to be someone living here."

With little sleep and a very short fuse, the constant buzz was disconcerting. I stood quietly off to one side, letting the team scan the area. I know I was exhausted beyond belief but for a few seconds, I thought I could feel Seven's presence. I supposed that I was remembering the last few minutes we spent together because it felt like she was holding my hand. I fought off the tears that started to form. In my state of mind, I could even imagine her stroking my cheek.

"Captain?"

"What is it, Harry?"

"I have an idea."

Time was growing short and I was open to any suggestion.

"I'd like to try to isolate the sound. I think the buzzing is coming from multiple sources. With some minor adjustments, I might be able to locate just one….um….buzz."

I nodded to him to proceed and walked outside for a breath of fresh air.

One of the planet's two moons had risen, casting light on the area. Under a different set of circumstances, this would be an incredibly romantic setting. I would have loved the opportunity to experience it, if only….

With my back to the wall, I hunkered down, coming to rest on the ground. Despite the lack of concrete evidence, I continued to believe that Seven was alive. Maybe, I was just being stubborn, something that I was known to be at times.

"Oh, Seven." I whispered. "There's so much I still need to tell you."

Closing my eyes, I rested my head in my hands. I must have dozed off because I nearly jumped out of my skin when Harry tapped me on my shoulder.

"Yes, Harry."

I was too spent to hide the sadness in my voice.

"I think I'm ready to try it, Captain."

I suggested that there was too much noise in the house.

"Try it here. There's only a low humming sound."

Harry recorded and re-recorded the sound. Doggedly. he played it backwards and forwards, loudly and softly, adding various combinations of filters and then removing them. The sound remained the same; totally unintelligible.

I suggested that he slow it down.

He cut the speed by half.

Instead of a quick buzz, he had a slower one.

"Again, Harry."

Half speed.

I nodded for him to continue.

One-quarter speed.

One-tenth speed.

At one one thousandth, I thought I heard something.

B'Elanna frowned. Tom shook his head.

At one ten thousandth speed, B'Elanna thought she heard my name.

When Harry re-calibrated the recorder to one one hundred thousandth, I nearly cried. It was unmistakable, Seven's voice.

"Captain. I am here. Please do not leave."

Without waiting for my orders, Tom accessed the EMH program.

"Please, state the nature of the medical….oh, it's you."

Harry re-played Seven's voice.

"Well, well. She's alive after all."

I suppressed the desire to strangle him, not that I could physically do damage to a holographic projection. Still, it was a visual.

Instead, I asked B'Elanna if she could alter his auditory sub-routines so that he could hear Seven.

Thinking it a relatively easy thing to do, she headed back to the shuttle to make the necessary changes.

While I waited, I walked to the fountain. I sat on the edge, looking into the clear pool and recalled the old Earth custom of tossing coins into a fountain and making a wish. We no longer used currency, no paper money or alloy-based coins. Instead, I removed one of my pips and with my back to the pool, flung it over my shoulder. I heard a tiny splash and said a prayer for Seven's safe return.

It didn't take long for B'Elanna to alter the sub-routines sufficiently for the doctor to hear Seven along with anyone else that was with her.

"The Argylians are a cyber-enhanced race." The doctor began.

"Like the Borg?" Harry asked.

"Nothing as aggressive as the Borg and with no desire to assimilate other species. They are a peaceful people. According to Seven, it's mostly enhancements to their memory, improvements to their visual acuity, tactile and auditory capabilities. Seventy-five years ago, they were infected with a cyber virus that caused a tremendous surge in their metabolic rates. At one hundred thousand times what we consider normal, they move too fast for us to see them. All we can detect is a buzz…"

"A gentle breeze, more of a flutter." I interjected, quoting from Ensign Wildman's report.

"Precisely, Captain. This heightened metabolism shortens their life span considerably and many die without bearing children. They are a rapidly dying race. Unfortunately, in their attempts to contact Seven, they inadvertently infected her."

He paused as if to listen, then added, "I have been instructed by their Prime Minister to apologize for that."

"Apology accepted. Now, how do we get Seven back?"

"Seven thinks that we can find a way to combat the virus. Apparently, her nanoprobes were not effective but she thinks there might be a way for me to isolate the virus, adapt her nanoprobe technology and halt the spread of disease. I will take some samples back to the ship and get working on it immediately. In the meantime, the Argylians extend an invitation to the crew."

I asked the doctor to thank them. Some R&R would do them all some good. I returned to the ship, anxious to relieve my crew. All thoughts of swimming were gone, replaced with thoughts of Seven.

With the exception of Tuvok and the EMH, all of the members of the crew were issued shore leave. Thinking R&R an illogical waste of time, Tuvok stayed back, using the time to meditate. The doctor worked round the clock, finally isolating the protein-based form that had wreaked havoc on an entire population.

With all of the ship's non-essential services shut down and the automatic pilot maintaining a steady orbit, I returned to my quarters. I had a huge assortment of music and books, fresh fruit sent up from the planet and time to wait for Seven's reappearance.

Within twenty-four hours, the doctor beamed back to the surface with enough anti-viral compound to reverse the damage. I think I might have held my breath until my COM badge chirped.

"Seven of Nine to Captain Janeway."

I responded as quickly as humanly possible. Seven requested that I turn on a view screen. I wasn't prepared for what I saw. On the screen was a crowd of people that looked like they could be Seven's relatives. Some had ocular implants while others had tactile sensors in their fingertips. A few had small transmitters strategically placed in one or both ears. And there was Seven, standing in the midst of this clan, looking like she had found her niche in a society that was equally happy to have her.

I felt my heart stop and my throat constrict. What if she asked to stay with the Argylians? How could I deny her the chance to live amongst her own kind?

"Are you alright, Captain?"

I told her that I was fine. I lied. I was miserable.

For nine days, I had been on an emotional roller coaster. I lost and found the young woman that had unwittingly become so incredibly important to me. Now, I could lose her again. Despair overtook me and I sought refuge on my couch, burying my face in my hands.

I didn't hear my door slide open, didn't hear soft footfalls approach me.

"You do not appear to be fine to me, Kathryn."

I looked up to find Seven anxiously hovering over me. I felt her hand brush a tear from my cheek then she took my hand and held it.

"This isn't the first time you've done this."

She smiled.

"No, it is not. When you were on the planet, I attempted to comfort you and to get your attention."

I told her that I thought it had been my imagination. After all, most of the crew believed her to be dead.

"You did not give up."

"No, Seven. I didn't."

"Why?"

I took a deep breath and decided that I had one last chance to explain myself.

"Seven?"

She looked at me, concern on her normally calm face.

"It's now or never, Katie."

"Do you remember our discussion the day your ocular implant was re-calibrated."

She nodded, looking unsure as to where this discussion was heading.

"I was in error. Holding your hand may have started out an act of comfort but it ended up a sign of affection. Deep, abiding affection.

"I am aware of that, Kathryn. I have been waiting for the opportunity to re-address this topic with you. Then, I ended up out of phase, unable to talk with you. It was very frustrating.

"That is an understatement." I nearly choked.

"Have you been able to regenerate?" I was sure I recognized the telltale signs of exhaustion in Seven. There was something about her eyes that extolled how traumatic this experience had been for her, too. And, with all of this, her metabolic rate had been working over-time.

She told me that she had been receiving sufficient nutritional supplements but attempts to sleep were less than successful.

"I could not clear my mind enough to lose consciousness."

"I know the feeling."

"That explains why you look tired, Kathryn."

In truth, I looked haggard and drawn. Instead of stating the obvious, my Borg was learning to be diplomatic.

Throwing caution to the wind, I offered to walk her to Cargo Bay 2. Instead of questioning my motives, she simply said thank you and smiled.

As we walked through the deserted ship, Seven suggested that while she regenerated, I try to do the same.

"I might be able to sleep now." I mused.

But, I was still worried that Seven was only visiting long enough to regenerate, then she would return to the Argylians. It was a thought that filled me with utter dread.

As Seven started to enter the program for her regeneration cycle, I decided to broach the subject.

"Will you be returning to the planet, staying with the Argylians?"

"Why would I do that?" she countered.

I explained that reports indicated that they were an interesting race, intelligent, gentle, similarly constructed to her, and accepting of her.

"I have no emotional attachment to this planet or to the Argylian people."

I could barely contain my joy.

Then, she added, "Nor have I any emotional attachment to Voyager or it's crew."

"I see." I said. Actually, I didn't.

She stepped up, positioning herself inside the unit.

"But, I do have a strong emotional attachment to you, Kathryn and that is what matters more to me than anything else."

Then, she closed her eyes and entered that altered consciousness that fed her, replenished her, kept her functioning.

Despite the low lighting, I could see the faintest of smiles playing on her lips.

I stayed a while longer, leaning on the unit, watching her in spite of my own exhaustion.

"Rest well, my love." I whispered, as I left Cargo Bay 2.

I didn't know that she heard me.

How I found the energy to get back to my own bed truly escapes me. When I awoke, I was fully clothed, face down on top of my bed covers. It wasn't a pretty sight.

With nothing pressing to attend to, I allowed myself the luxury of a hot bubble bath complete with soft music, candle light and breakfast in the tub. Soaking was one or my all-time favorite things to do and I rarely got the opportunity to do it.

I leaned back, as the water swirled around me, knowing that my crew was enjoying the delightful planet and Seven was safe. The computer maintained the appropriate water temperature and I stayed practically immobile until my fingers pruned.

Life was good. It could be better. This time, I decided to be proactive.

"Computer, locate Seven of Nine."

"Seven of Nine is in turbo lift two."

I wondered where she was heading.

Before querying the computer again, I toweled off and selected clothes that would be comfortable and unrestricted, finally settling on a tee shirt and slacks.

"Seven of Nine is approaching your quarters."

I was about to have a visitor.

III

I could barely contain myself as I ushered Seven in and invited her to make herself comfortable. I fully expected her to remind me that comfort was irrelevant. Instead, she sat on the couch and simply said, "Thank you."

I wasn't sure if it was the doctor's lessons or her week with the Argylians, but something had changed.

After replicating more coffee for myself and water with a wedge of lemon for Seven, I sat down, a discrete distance to her right. As was habit, Seven looked at me with her head turned ever so slightly, her left eye peering intently, her curiosity peeked by my silence. I often wondered if she saw things differently with the implant but now was not the appropriate time to ask.

"I'm not sure where to start." I said. Seven looked directly into my eyes. The intensity of her gaze had a profound affect on me, making me glad that I was already seated.

"Try the beginning, Katie."

"The past four years have been exceedingly difficult for me." I said. "Having left Utopia Planetia with a brand new Intrepid-class starship, I was filled with excitement, eager to take my crew to new places and new experiences. Searching for the Maquis was just one of my responsibilities. I thought I would be able to locate them easily, then continue on, combining my skills as both a Captain and as a scientist. The Caretaker changed all of that."

I knew Seven heard the stories about how we ended up stranded in the delta quadrant, but I needed to give her my history, not that of the ship's. She appeared to be listening attentively, so I continued.

"Knowing that I was responsible, that a different decision could have prevented all of this, well, that's a weight I have to shoulder."

"You have done an admirable job in keeping this crew alive, Kathryn. A lesser individual would not have gotten them this far." Seven interjected, her words of support giving me the courage to continue.

"There is intense pressure on me, Seven. I'm responsible for every life on board. Every decision I make directly affects everyone and everything. I'll admit to you that some of the pressure is real and some of it is probably self-imposed. Starfleet, although so many light-years away, continues to direct me. All of its rules and regulations are a part of who and what I am. Those rules are ingrained in me, help govern my actions and decisions so it's hard for me to change."

Seven never took her eyes off me, studying my facial expressions, catching every emotional nuance in my voice.

"I have been operating under the premise that a starship captain should never get involved with a subordinate member of the crew. I thought that kind of interaction to be…..well, unethical."

"You were in error." She responded.

"Maybe. But, I have clung to that belief - until now. I hate to admit it but I am nearly overwhelmed with loneliness."

My voice cracking, I gulped down some coffee and used the few seconds to collect myself.

Seven seemed to want to say something, then changed her mind.

"There are people on Voyager that I consider to be friends but I need more than that."

I tried to describe my innermost feelings, the desire to relinquish some of the responsibilities, the potential vulnerability in letting someone get close enough to see me as I really am. I admitted that it was finally time to recognize my own needs. Rather sheepishly, I acknowledged that I had even programmed the computer, asking it to match me up with a potential mate.

"And?" she prompted.

"The computer informed me that there were no males on Voyager that could fulfil my criteria."

I saw the sides of her mouth curl upward, just the beginning of a smile.

"I could have told you that." She said, knowingly.

"I don't need a team or a crew or a collective." I whispered, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice but failing miserably in the attempt. "All I need is one person; someone to love and trust, someone to share the triumphs as well as the set-backs."

"I would like to be that person, Kathryn." She volunteered without hesitation.

No nonsense. No mincing of words. A simple declarative statement.

I asked her if she understood the implications of her offer.

"Yes, Kathryn." She responded, softly. "I am fully aware. I have been aware of this for some time. At first, I thought there was something physiologically wrong with me. Whenever we were together, I felt my pulse race and there was a definite increase in respiration. I had a hard time concentrating and my regeneration cycles were short and less effective."

Leave it to Seven to attempt to find logic in an illogical situation.

"Then, I began to study some of the members of the crew, how they responded when attracted to each other."

Ah, I thought. The "B'Ellana and Tom" experiment.

"It took a while for me to get used to the idea, Kathryn. Love is not an emotion that comes easy to a Borg. It is considered a serious condition with physiological changes that are not acceptable. But, I am no longer part of that collective and I knew that I had to reject that premise. I found that if I queried the computer to locate you, I could get to that location quickly and accidentally bump into you. There was a time when we played Velocity that I was so busy watching you that I crashed into the Holodeck wall."

She laughed. Seven actually laughed with an almost child-like innocence. I found her so incredibly delightful that my heart clutched at the thought of her being assimilated into the coldest society in the universe.

"So, it's not my superior playing that has you falling over." I couldn't help but tease her.

"Sometimes, it is."

I listened as she proclaimed how happy she would get when she pleased me, how safe and warm she felt when she would come out of a regeneration cycle to find me watching her and how she found herself wanting to spend more and more time with me.

"I cannot tell you how worried I was that you would leave me with the Argylians, Kathryn. To finally get to this place, to know that I love you and not be able to tell you. It was a source of great pain."

I had to admit that my Borg was more in touch with her emotions than her captain was.

"The real question is not how I feel, Kathryn" she added. "It is important for me to know if you have the same feelings for me."

"Yes, Katie." My inner voice chimed in. "How do you feel?"

I mentioned our Velocity matches and how important they were to me. I talked about watching her regenerate, my excessive visits to the Astrometrics lab, her place in my life. I told her that I could not function when I thought I'd lost her permanently. By then, I was barely holding back the tears.

"Kathryn, you are rambling." She interrupted. "Is it strictly a matter of comfort or is it something else?"

"I took a long, deep breath, hesitating a few more seconds to compose myself.

"Something else." I finally answered.

Seven's implant shot straight up, almost comically. Her eyes grew wider than I thought humanly possible and there was the slightest, almost imperceptible quiver in her lower lip.

I sidled closer toward her, until our knees touched and I was suddenly conscious of the heat emanating from her body, the soft, slightly spicy scent of her skin. The desire to touch her shook me to the core, nearly overwhelming me.

"It's love, Seven. It has been love for some time." The words were finally uttered, barely audible but she heard me.

I heard her exhale. That sweet woman had been holding her breath, hanging on to my every word.

With that said, I leaned toward her, my forehead coming to rest on her shoulder.

For someone lacking in experience, Seven didn't hesitate to wrap her arm around me and we sat like that for an indeterminate amount of time, letting words sink in, deriving simple pleasure in just being together.

"Kathryn." She finally broke the silence. "I do not know how to..."

I reached up to stroke her face, trace the line of her jaw, ran an index finger over her exquisite mouth.

"I will show you, my love." And I assured her that she would be teaching me a good deal as well.

I had just gotten up the nerve to kiss her when my COM badge chirped, Chakotay hailing me. I contemplated grounds for his immediate court-martial.

"Captain, the Argylians would like you to return to their planet."

Damn! I thought. I don't want to do this, not that I could have declined the invitation. It would have been construed as a major insult to the Argylians.

"They have a huge feast planned in your honor."

I could barely conceal my disappointment. Spending time with Seven was all I really wanted to do.

"I will accompany you to the planet surface, Kathryn." She volunteered, immediately.

I told Chakotay that we'd be there shortly.

I changed back into the appropriate Starfleet uniform, a dressier version of the usual red and black one. Seven immediately pointed out the missing pip.

"I have been meaning to ask you…."

"Why I cast it into the fountain?" I finished her question. Of course she had seen me, had been watching me on the planet. I explained the ancient Earth custom of tossing a coin and making a wish.

"When will you know if your wish has come true?"

"It already has, my love. It already has."

We left my quarters and headed to the Turbo lift. I requested Transporter Room 1 and was surprised when I suddenly had this all consuming desire to lean against Seven. After all, I no longer had to censor my thoughts, my actions, or my words. As if reading my mind, Seven reached for my hand. I turned to look at her.

"Not comfort." She explained.

I nodded, felt my fingers interlaced with hers and for the first time in a while, I was truly happy. I wondered what the minimum amount of time was that I needed to spend on the planet before I would be guilty of committing a serious breach of etiquette.

IV

The coordinates Chakotay transmitted allowed us to materialize in the middle of town, several feet from the town square. This time, instead of desolation, there were throngs of people milling about. Clearly unexpected, we were nearly trampled by a group of children playing Tag. Their leader was none other than our very own Naomi Wildman. She appeared stricken at the thought of crashing into me, apologizing profusely before running off with her new friends. Having finally found a group of peers, Naomi ended up wanting to stay with the Argylians, not Seven.

We found Chakotay, B'Elanna, Harry and Tom standing next to a long table overflowing with fresh-baked breads, cheeses, vegetables and fruits. There were hot and cold dishes and a special desert table laden with cookies, cakes and what would best be described as Argylian ice cream. I couldn't place the flavor but it was cold, sweet and creamy and I helped myself to a second dish.

Everyone was relaxed and joking, the air filled with the sounds of laughter and music. All in all, it was a far cry from the conditions of my last visit.

I was introduced to Prime Minister Bramson D'al, a tall man with intense green eyes, a droopy red mustache and ruddy complexion. He had a small auditory implant in his left ear and wore mesh gloves with metal caps on the index fingers of both hands. Before I had the chance to make a comment about the implants, two younger Argylians spirited Seven off. I couldn't help but wonder what had transpired while she lived amongst them but I was sure I'd hear plenty, either from Seven or the Argylians.

Although I was physically present and could smile and be gracious almost on cue, my mind was on my Borg. In the midst of all of the festivities, I managed to keep an eye on her. It was an act that did not go unnoticed.

"She is extraordinary, is she not?" Bramson commented.

I agreed that she was.

Seven was standing with her wrists clasped behind her as she paid careful attention to her animated young charges. As customary, her head was tilted slightly toward them and although I couldn't hear her, I knew they had engaged her in conversation. It didn't surprise me that she was surrounded by children. She seemed infinitely more comfortable in their presence than in the presence of other adults. Of course, it was adults that were quick to judge her and quicker to fear her.

"Is she always this cool and unaffected?"

I thought about our most recent conversation. Unaffected would no longer be an appropriate adjective.

"No. Not always."

"Sometimes, she's even colder." Tom interjected. I saw B'Elanna glare at him, imparting the devastating look that only a Klingon could muster. I wasted no time in reminding him that although Ensign was the lowest rank in Starfleet, given time, I could come up with something suitably lower.

"And time is something we have plenty of, Mr. Paris."

He quickly headed in the opposite direction, joining another group. It was a smart move on his part.

Bransom D'al saw to it that I met with scientists, teachers, doctors and politicians, all of them offering profuse thanks at our being able to rid them of the cyber virus. But, I was counting the hours and minutes. Whether she was interested in the festivities of not, Seven stayed close, certainly within visual range. At one point, she re-joined the group, standing directly behind me. I couldn't help but notice her close proximity, several inches nearer than was customary. I actually envisioned her snaking an arm around my waist, pulling me close enough to lean back against her. With thoughts like that running through my mind, it was a wonder that I made it through the day without a major faux pas.

By 19:30, I was ready and eager to beam back up to the ship. Imagine my disappointment when we were ushered into an immense banquet hall. There were five rows of tables replete with a fabric that was similar to linen and very ornate place settings. Somehow, Seven managed to take a seat almost directly opposite me, giving me the opportunity to steal glances her way. Over the past 18 months, I learned to watch her face and her incredibly subtle changes of expression. My crew thought she had ice in her veins, believed her to be an impassive, unfeeling drone. I knew better. I knew that her eyes widened appreciably, her pale cheeks grew pink and the corners of her mouth often toyed with the notion of a smile. All of these changes were nearly imperceptible, ignored by everyone but me.

I was sipping from a cup of broth when peering over the rim, I saw her eyes searching for mine. My smile caused me to dribble, spilling soup in my lap.

I caught her eyes widen and for a fraction of a second she gazed skyward, the Borg version of rolling her eyes.

With every new serving, I said a silent prayer that we were nearly finished. How was I to know that the Argylians served different desserts in between their main courses? Just as my hopes would rise that this was it, that we were finally finished, out came another stew, a new vegetable.

By the time we bid half the Agylian population a good night, it was nearly 23:00.

Taking Seven by the elbow, I led her outside, walking toward the fountain. I knew she was confused as to why I hadn't immediately contacted the ship.

"This is what would be considered a romantic setting, Seven. Let's not waste it." I said, taking her hand in mine. Oh, how that simple act felt good.

"Explain."

"It's a perfect evening, Seven. If you stop and listen, you can hear the gurgling water coming from the fountain. The air is still warm and there's a gentle breeze blowing. You can smell the flowers from a nearby garden. Both of Argyl's moons are full, casting silver light and double shadows on the landscape."

"And, that makes it romantic?"

"No, not by itself. What makes it romantic is being able to share all of this beauty with someone special, someone you love." I turned toward her, losing myself in large blue-gray pools that were full of silver moonlight.

"I see." She whispered, "Thank you, Kathryn."

And I kissed her. It was a tentative meeting of lips that had waited all day to greet each other. Standing a few feet from the fountain, I nuzzled her cheek with my mouth, planted small kisses on her neck, languished in the feel of her arms around me.

"Two to beam up?"

"Acceptable" I said.

Holding hands, we sauntered out of Transporter Room 1. With absolutely everyone vacationing on Argyl, what do you think the odds are of bumping into Tuvok?

Right.

"Captain, Seven, did you enjoy the festivities?"

"Yes, Tuvok. You missed a good party."

"Perhaps."

Wishing us a good night, he continued on his walk without so much as raising an eyebrow.

We entered my quarters where I unceremoniously kicked off my shoes and eased my tired body onto the couch. I made an attempt at stifling a yawn. It didn't go unnoticed.

"You are tired." Seven commented. "I do not wish to leave you tonight."

"Well, we're in agreement. I don't want you to go, either."

I suggested that now was as good a time as any to start our lessons.

"Indeed." She noted.

Against my more baser instincts, I replicated a pair of blue pajamas for Seven. I slipped into my favorite old Starfleet-issue gray nightshirt and hastily washed in the ensuite. When I came out, she was standing near the bed, unsure of what to do next. As I pulled back the covers, I asked her if she would be able to sleep.

"Sleep is irrelevant. What matters is that I will be here with you."

I took the left side of the bed and beckoned her to join me. She reached out and I crawled into her arms, my head resting comfortably on her left shoulder, my left arm draped over her stomach, my leg over hers.

"First lesson." I whispered. "Snuggling 101."

"Yes," she said. "An excellent choice."

It was the last thing I heard.

V

I can't remember ever waking up and feeling as good as I did the next morning. I managed to sleep without trashing my bed, waking in the exact same place I was when I fell asleep.

Well, almost.

I still had my head on Seven's shoulder, she still had her arm around me. But, some time during the night, my left hand traveled under Seven's pajama top and was now nestled snugly between her breasts. Slowly, I lifted my head up and found my Borg asleep, her breathing even and rhythmical, the sweetest expression on her face. Having absolutely no desire to be anywhere but in her arms, I repositioned my head. At first, going back to sleep didn't seem like a viable option but somehow I was even able to do that. Some time later, Seven stirred and softly called my name. It was a most wonderful way to regain consciousness and without any hesitation, I told her.

"I slept." She seemed surprised.

"Yes, my love. You did."

I asked her if she dreamt.

"Yes. It was the same dream I have had many times before during regeneration."

"And?" I prompted.

"This time, when I awoke, you were still in my arms."

Oh, Seven! Why did it take me so long, I thought. Immediately, I knew that a relationship with this woman would always be honest and open. There would be no game playing. No smoke screens. She couldn't tell a lie. It would never occur to her to withhold information from me. I would always know what was on her mind and in her heart. I looked up at her and gently pressed my lips to her jaw. Of course, my stomach picked an inauspicious time to regain its appetite, complaining loudly. Timing is everything, I noted. Then I remembered my wandering left hand and wondered how to extricate it from the sweet space between her breasts.

"Apparently, my hand has a mind of it's own." I commented, a bit embarrassed by my subconscious act.

Seven eased her right hand under the covers, under her pajama top, allowing it to rest atop my hand. I told her that I honestly didn't remember placing my hand there.

"It was shortly after you fell asleep. A most curious sensation, knowing that you were unaware of your actions."

"Why didn't you remove my hand?" I was curious.

"It was readily apparent that your need to touch me matched my desire to be touched by you." Her analytical Borg mind reasoned.

Slowly, I pulled my hand back, my fingers brushing lightly against her remaining stomach implants.

"You do not find the abdominal implants offensive?" She asked.

I wasted no time in assuring her that I believed her to be the most beautiful woman I ever set eyes on, adding, "There is nothing about you that I would want changed."

Then, she lifted herself up on her left elbow and gazed into my eyes.

"I love you, Kathryn."

I returned the eye contact, noticing that all previous traces of ice were gone. Instead, there was a smoldering expression in its place. It was somewhat paradoxical, seeing the ocular and star-shaped implants, left over vestiges of her time as an emotionless Borg drone. Yet now, there was a new-found passion that only I would be privy to. Heady stuff, even for a starship captain.

I felt a shiver, a tingling through my spine, down my groin and into the pit of my stomach. It was the rumble of a very different hunger, one that would require a different kind of nourishment.

I don't think I ever rushed through a breakfast as fast as I did that morning. We kept it simple; muffins and a granola-like cereal that Neelix concocted, fresh fruit juice for Seven and coffee for me. Sitting at my little dining table, we both seemed to be finding little excuses to touch each other. Her hand, gently brushing against mine when I reached for a muffin; my fingers finding hers when I refilled her juice glass. The sexual tension in the room was palpable, hanging in the air, enveloping us in a cloud of promise.

When I asked Seven what she wanted to do on our day off, she smiled.

"A few more lessons would be acceptable." She said softly. I watched the color rise to her cheeks.

Yes, that would. Reaching for her hand, I gently pulled her to a standing position. I took her face in my hands and guided her mouth toward mine. It was an incredibly exquisite moment, finding myself finally experiencing the softness and sweetness of her lips.

Our kisses were tentative at first, delicate explorations that became more intense as the passion between us soared to unimaginable heights. Lips and tongues seemed to take on a life of their own, probing, tasting, nibbling, dancing together in celebration of this new, exciting territory. At one point, I felt my knees begin to tremble and I was grateful for Seven's strong arms.

I have vague recollections of our moving back into the bedroom. You might even convince me that we experienced some strange temporal anomaly. One second we were kissing in the living room and the next second we were peeling back the bed covers and shedding clothes. Somehow, I regained enough composure to take control, to slow things down to a more manageable and deliberate pace. Once we found a suitable position, I continued the barrage of kisses. Seven's breath grew ragged, her chest heaving up and down. I had to remind her that it was all right to break away from a kiss, if only long enough to breathe.

"Easy, my love." I whispered. "We have all day."

And I had every intention of using this day, this wondrous gift of undisturbed time with Seven. Although I hated to stray from her lips, my mouth was ready to continue on this journey of discovery. I nibbled my way down her jaw to her collarbone, paying attention to the hollow of her throat and the roundness of her shoulders. It took great restraint, but I moved slowly, delighting in her incredibly responsive body. Drawing long, slow circles around a rose-tipped breast, I marveled as the nipple formed, hardening in my mouth. Seven held me tightly, emitting low guttural moans, subtle but clear indications that she was enjoying my ministrations. For a very brief moment, I was struck with the immense responsibility of being Seven's first lover. Everything I said and everything I did had the potential of having long-term ramifications. In retrospect, I think I had a minor case of performance anxiety. But, I was able to concentrate and quickly forced that notion out of my mind.

I caressed her, gently rolling the nipple of her right breast, my own excitement increasing as the skin pebbled in response to my touch. Touching her had a profound effect on me for my body was more alive than I could ever remember. It seemed like each one of my senses was inflamed by this marvelous experience. Shutting out the rest of the universe and all the problems associated with it, I focused on Seven. I consciously began to commit her to memory.

I traced the curve of a breast, the length of a thigh, the flatness of her stomach. I tasted her skin, felt its softness on my lips and tongue. A sigh,.…a gasp,….a low moan, every sound propelled me forward. My hand brushed over the small triangular patch of damp curls.

"K-k-kathryn?"

I stopped immediately, fearful that I had frightened her.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

"I am not sure. All of my internal systems appear to be malfunctioning. I cannot think. I cannot process. I may be ill."

I assured her that this was a very normal response, a good thing.

"Relax, my darling. Just concentrate on us. This is not the time to worry about plasma relays or star charts."

She nodded and smiled, her angelic face flushed, her eyes intense with unbridled passion. And another thing, total trust.

I continued down the length of her body and eased myself between her legs, slipping my hands under her, seeking the source of that silky slick moisture. This was a new experience for me, too, but I put myself on automatic pilot and trusted that I would know what to do. What surprised me more than anything else was the way my body continued to react to Seven. Sure, I had spent time touching a lover's body but it was more for the lover than for me. Here, pleasing Seven game me more pleasure that I thought possible.

I gently parted the moisture-laden golden curls, aware of just how excited my own body became as I neared the source of that moisture. Exploring her with my mouth and tongue, tracing the folds of flesh, probing and tasting until I finally settled on one spot. As I flicked my tongue over and around that delicate bundle of nerves, I found a special rhythm. I could hear Seven's breath quicken, could hear each low moan, could feel her pulse, and the blood coursing through her veins. I held her tightly as her back arched toward me, felt her muscles straining as those wonderful involuntary contractions washed over her.

Nothing prepared me for the onrush of feelings, the acknowledgement that I had never felt as protective toward another person as I did at that very instant.

I crawled back, repositioning myself next to her, my arms pulling her toward me. I held her close, stroked her cheek, brushed back the strands of hair that fell over her eyes and whispered her name....Annika. I heard a tiny gasp, her body shuddered and there was an outpouring of emotion that took both of us by storm.

Immense tears began to well up, spilling down her cheeks. Clearly, she was surprised by the flow of tears, did not believe herself capable of such a wanton display of emotion. Seven was claiming both her humanity and her sexuality, even slightly unnerved at everything happening all at once. I did what I could to assure her that this was a normal response to such an intense situation. She was bothered by her inability to adequately describe how she felt. Her life as a Borg left her with few adjectives, her speech clipped but exceedingly efficient. For the Borg, emphasis was placed on perfection not on beauty. There was no appreciation of art or music, no way to acknowledge or understand emotions.

"I will not be able to tell you how you make me feel. I will not adequately be able to convey my love for you." She sobbed.

"Oh, but you can." I whispered, my face pressed against her long, graceful neck. "You have considerable non-verbal skills."

She turned and looked to me for clarification.

I told her that the way she looked at me, the way she touched me, the way she kissed me and the way she whispered my name more than made up for any missing verbal skills.

I was immediately treated to an expression of pure joy. It was one that I will never forget. In fact, I immediately vowed to spend a great deal of time trying to recreate the conditions that would duplicate that exquisite smile.

We lay there, appreciating and supporting each other. I might have even taken a short nap. Once she regained composure, Seven threw a leg over mine. Long strands of silky blond hair fanned out across my chest and shoulders. As I held on to her, I became keenly aware of the heat and the moisture, the shower of wet soft kisses, the gentle bite on my neck and the tongue trailing over my earlobe. My own breath came in short gasps and I felt the wetness flooding between my thighs. All of those delicious factors finally put an end to my analysis of the situation at hand.

As her tongue sought mine, I reveled in the softness of her full lips. I believed that I could be content if locked in one of her kisses forever. As Seven's teeth playfully nibbled on my lower lip I heard a low moan, heard it intensify, heard a voice calling Seven's name.

My voice.

My passion.

And Seven answered me. She was, after all, a very quick study. Now, I snuggled in her arms as she held me, comforted me, protected me in this ultra-vulnerable place. I heard words uttered in hushed tones, words that promised undying love and support, a safe haven, a place to let down my guard - words no one would believe a Borg capable of uttering. I couldn't fathom why she worried about her verbal skills. In return, I told her how much I loved her and how much I needed her in my life. I thought about her being gone, how we might never have gotten to this wonderful place. That is when a lifetime of control ended and I started to cry. Over the years, I had been very effective in erecting a wall. Hiding behind Starfleet regulations and claims of captain infallibility, I kept my feelings to myself, isolated and insulated. Now, the wall was crumbling, brick by brick. Every time Seven spoke my name, I could visualize another chunk breaking away. As it turns out, we were more similarly matched than I thought. Like Seven, I was learning who I was.

When I stopped to think about it, I may have rescued Seven from the Borg collective, but she ended up rescuing me -- from me.