"Seven, you really should learn a little about
holiday customs. When we get back to Earth, you may find you want to participate.
Think of it as a cultural education assignment."
As usual Kathryn Janeway was trying to find ways to draw out the Borg woman into
social activities. She worried about Seven of Nine, and how her development was
progressing. Seven would join her Captain in a game of Velocity or play Kotiskot
easily enough with Naomi, the only child on board. But getting her to attend a
social gathering with a large group of people was like pulling teeth. Kathryn's
latest hope to encourage Seven to attend the Christmas dinner Neelix insisted on
throwing was to make it sound like a kind
of assignment. Seven rarely declined any opportunity to learn something,
especially if Kathryn made it a point to ask her personally.
"I do not see the point. I am not a…… `Christian', I believe is the right term,
and I have no wish to take part in an antiquated religious ceremony I have no
need of." Seven had a stubborn look on her face, Kathryn noted. The one she knew
she would not be able to budge. She conceded failure, but not totally. She
sighed.
"All right, Seven. If you can show me two examples of Christmas traditions, I
will excuse you from attending the dinner, since you are so obviously opposed to
it. But I want to see that you have made at least a cursory survey of this
predominant Earth holiday. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Captain." The look of defiance on Seven's face reduced itself to a pout.
"Good. I will return later to check on your progress." Kathryn turned on her
heel and walked out of the cargo bay.
On the way down the corridor, she shook her head gently and smiled. Seven was so
obstinate. In any other crewmember, she would of course not tolerate such
in-subordination. Seven however, was not an officer or even a cadet. She was a
strange mix of stubborn child and wise, world-weary woman. Her unique life
experiences had to be respected as the underdeveloped parts of her personality
were carefully encouraged. Kathryn had a unique relationship with the rescued
woman as Seven sought to sharpen herself against Kathryn's strength, often in
unbending displays like this last one. Kathryn was intrigued to see what aspects
Seven would pull from the vast tradition of `Christmas'.
After the Captain had spent several uneventful hours on the bridge, she made her
way down to the galley to see how Neelix was doing in his preparations. He
allowed her a peek into the oven to see a heavily basted six-legged,
avian-looking *thing* in a huge roasting pan. He declared it a "Davakorn
d'Aclayen hen, basted in juute broth with fetran stuffing". He was most excited
to tell her he'd found it on the last planet they had stopped at and saved it in
the
freezer for just this occasion. At least it smelled good, even if its appearance
were a little daunting. And Neelix *did* look very festive in his red hat, the
brim surrounded with white pom-poms.
She proceeded on to Cargo Bay Two to assess Sevens reluctant study.
As soon as the bay doors opened, an odour of spice, cinnamon, she thought, hit
her nostrils. A very small pine tree sat on top of the computer console and cast
a warm glow from the string of lights wound around it. Seven was in front of her
alcove reaching towards the top of it, attaching a sock to it, much to Kathryn's
amazement.
"Captain. I will be finished momentarily," Seven declared, her back still
towards Kathryn.
Kathryn noticed two steaming mugs sitting in front of the tree on the console.
They had cinnamon bark rolls sticking out of the tops of them, and an alcoholic
vapour hung in the air now that she was closer. Seven had clearly replicated
some mulled wine.
The tall slim Borg, made taller and slimmer by the stretch she was executing to
finish with the stocking, recoiled her reach and turned to face her Captain.
"A Christmas tree, the primary decorative icon of Christmas. Mulled wine, a
popular beverage for the occasion, especially appealing as an alternative to the
sweetened and blended raw embryo of a common fowl." Sevens face held a look of
disgust at her interpretation of eggnog. Kathryn looked at her own boots to hide
her amusement.
"A *stocking*," Seven gestured to her alcove, "fastened to the mantle of a
fireplace by children, hoping they have behaved well enough throughout an entire
year to warrant gifts magically appearing in their foot-coverings while they
sleep."
"Would you care for some wine, Captain?" Seven asked. She picked up the two mugs
and handed one to Kathryn.
Kathryn accepted the drink and took a sip. The taste of cloves and nutmeg joined
the cinnamon and sweetened wine as it rolled across her tongue and warmed her
throat. She closed her eyes and smiled.
"I forgot how good that tastes, Seven. Thank you. My mother always made wine
like this at Christmas time." She closed her eyes again and inhaled deeply the
scent. Seven watched her with interest.
"Well, Seven, I am satisfied that you did your research," Kathryn said, after
taking another sip from her mug. "In fact you have shown me three examples
instead of two. Now, if you will excuse me, I am due at the dinner in the mess
hall. Thank you for the wine." She put the mug down and headed for the door. "Unless
of course you've changed your mind about attending?"
"No, Captain, although I did find one other intriguing tradition." Seven said,
following her to the door. "I believe it is customary to grant a kiss to someone
you find yourself standing under mistletoe with."
Kathryn looked up. Sure enough, suspended from the ceiling of the Cargo bay
right above her head was a small tied bunch of spiky greenery.
"Sev--"
Seven tilted her head towards Kathryn's up-turned face, gently kissing her
Captain's lips, still parted in the question she didn't get to ask.
Kathryn froze. Seven had surprised her completely, yet again.
"Merry Christmas, Captain." Seven said to an astonished Kathryn, when she had
released her from the kiss. "Thank you for encouraging me to learn your
traditions. I find they are enjoyable after all. Now I believe I must regenerate
if I hope to find anything in my sock."
Seven turned and walked toward her alcove. Kathryn watched her go wordlessly.
"Merry Christmas, Seven," Kathryn said quietly before finally leaving the cargo
bay.