Sensations

Part 1
 

Seven of Nine had learned to appreciate the noise of her shipmates' jovial banter echoing through the messhall. Particularly after week-long crises, like the one they had just experienced evading a deep-space convoy of Hirogen vessels, she knew the crew, and especially the Captain, needed small celebrations like this one as a form of release. Tonight, however, nothing could dissolve the little knot of tension that was forming in Seven's stomach.

It was "May 20th" by the Terran calendar, a date the crew accorded with significance because it was the anniversary of Captain Janeway's birth some forty-five Earth years ago. The Captain seemed slightly embarrassed but enormously pleased by the attention that her crew was lavishing on her. Preparations had begun weeks ago, when Chakotay discreetly circulated reminders about the impending date and explained that a large celebration was being planned by himself and Neelix.

Seven did not completely understand what all the fuss was about, but she became quickly aware of expectations the celebration placed on her when both Harry Kim and Tom Paris, on separate occasions, asked her what she was "getting the Captain." Apparently, it was customary to give someone a gift on his or her "Birthday." Seven had researched the tradition and discovered that the "Birthday present" symbolized one's good wishes toward the "Birthday girl or boy." That thought had given her considerable pause: she found it quite difficult to imagine Captain Janeway as a young girl.

Since the Borg used maturation chambers, she understood very little about the process of "growing up" and hence of being a child. Indeed, except for vague memories of herself as a little girl, the only other child she had any experience of was young Naomi Wildman, who, by all accounts, was rather "mature for her age." Seven's lack of experience with childhood and the paltry sampling of children available on Voyager for further scientific analysis contributed to her difficulties in imagining an "underdeveloped" Kathryn Janeway.

But above all, it was the Captain's formidable presence and strength of character that made it virtually impossible for Seven to imagine that Kathryn Janeway had ever been immature, inexperienced, obedient rather than commanding, possibly carefree (as Naomi Wildman seemed at times), filled with childlike wonder and whim, and perhaps also occasionally wracked by childish insecurities, as Seven herself experienced more often than she cared to acknowledge, especially when confronted with yet another new social norm, like giving "Birthday presents."

"It's a way of saying, 'I'm glad you were born.....because you matter to me'," the Doctor had tried to explain.

Seven considered this. For the most part, she thought the notion of someone's being born irrelevant. One either existed or not; the process or circumstance by which one *was* seemed to her wholly beside the point. Still, she did concede that the Captain "mattered" to her. Had it not been for the Captain, Seven of Nine would never have been severed from the Borg Collective, would never have known individuality, would never have felt the burgeoning scope of human emotions that greeted her each day, some not unpleasant. And it had been the Captain -- still *was* the Captain -- who took it upon herself to help Seven of Nine rediscover her humanity. The process was often unsettling, for both of them, but Seven could not deny that she was.....*grateful*, truly grateful to Captain Kathryn Janeway.

Still, Seven had been stymied for a long time about what precisely to give the Captain as an expression of this gratitude. The Doctor had been no help on this score. Seven was still stunned when he had responded simply that the gift should be "something from the heart." Wide-eyed, Seven wondered to herself why the Captain would want samples of Seven's cardial tissue. She concluded that despite his social skills in most areas, the Doctor, being a hologram, was not well-versed in this custom.

After several days ruminating over the issue, Seven had decided that she should give the Captain something that expressed not only her gratitude at being returned to her humanity but that also represented her considerable progress towards that goal. She knew from the Captain's DaVinci holodeck program that Janeway valued art as one of the purest expressions of all that is human: emotion, creativity, beauty, even "soul." Seven was still struggling with these concepts, but she knew that if she could produce an artwork that managed to convey at least some of what she was feeling, that this was very likely a gift the Captain would appreciate. She had been quite pleased with herself when she finally settled on the idea for what she would create and had remained so all the weeks that she labored over the object.

Seven's confidence in her gift, however, was now waning. With each new present the Captain opened, Seven became a little less sure about the appropriateness of her own gift until, finally, a cloud of depression had settled on her. Most of the other gifts had been replicated rather than handmade, and they either served some function (a hairbrush, a warming unit for the Captain's coffee, a chronometer) or else were something for which the Captain had at one time or another professed a personal liking (such as a book of poems by a favored author). So appropriate were these gifts that the Captain lavished effusive praise on each and sincerely thanked the gift givers for these logical and/or efficient items.

What had Seven been thinking?! She had made her gift, despite her questionable skills at the medium, and she had settled on something that was neither clearly of interest to the Captain nor able to serve any useful function. Really, it was little more than a hunk of metal to be looked at. The more she contemplated it, the more miserable she became until, finally, Seven hung her head in quiet shame as others craned their necks around her to see what the Captain was opening next.

"Why, thank you, Neelix," the Captain barked with a laugh.

At their last port of call, the Talaxian had managed to secure a bottle of a fine wine that the Captain had much appreciated at the reception. She smiled with sincere pleasure now as she held a bottle of the precious liquid in her hands.

"I'll just take that and put it with your other gifts," B'Elanna Torres offered, in what seemed a purposely suspicious tone.

Seven did not quite understand why that elicited laughter until the Captain held the bottle away and remarked, "Oh, no you don't! Maybe if you're a good girl, Neelix will get you your own bottle on *your* birthday, Lieutenant." Then above the din of laughter, she handed the bottle to Chakotay and advised him to "guard this with your life."

Seven considered this must be a very wonderful gift, indeed, to merit such protection. She wished she had gotten the Captain something half so precious.

"The next gift," Neelix announced loudly, pausing for effect, "is from Seven of Nine!"

At the sound of her designation, Seven was jolted out of her misery and felt suddenly anxious, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat.

"Apparently, it's rather large and heavy, Captain," Neelix explained. Then to the crowd, he instructed, "If you will all step back, please, I'll beam the gift in from Cargo Bay 2, as Seven has directed."

Seven was seized by an idea and promptly stepped forward: "Uh, Captain," she stammered uncharacteristically, "I did not anticipate such closed quarters for your celebration and now deem it inconvenient to present my gift to you in this manner. Perhaps it would be best if you simply come by Cargo Bay 2 later.....perhaps tomorrow.....after the festivities," she suggested hopefully, and redundantly.

Janeway frowned slightly through her smile. "How big *is* your gift, Seven."

Neelix broke in and gently offered, "According to your specifications, Seven, it's not even a cubic meter in size."

"But it is *much* larger with the pedestal," Seven interjected with unusual emphasis. Then turning to the Captain and adopting her matter-of-fact monotone to try to sound more convincing, "and it is quite heavy. Furthermore, it would be an inefficient waste of ship's energy to beam it in."

Janeway caught on that Seven was embarrassed about her gift. As always, therefore, she found herself on the horns of a dilemma where the former Borg was concerned. Does she insist on Seven's participation in the social function of gift-giving and risk her public humiliation, or does she give-in to Seven's fears and forego the social lesson?

'How bad, really, could this gift *be*', she wondered. She decided to risk the lesson and prepared herself, inwardly, for the worst while, outwardly, trying to reassure the young woman. "That's all right, Seven," Janeway explained with a smile. "Sharing the gift giving with everyone is part of the fun and well worth a little expenditure of energy. Please proceed, Mr. Neelix."

Neelix pressed the padd and suddenly a tall pedestal materialized in the middle of the room.

Seven had forgotten about the plain drop cloth that covered the pedestal and felt still more depressed as she compared it to the festive wrappings that the others had used. "My apologies for the muted covering, Captain," Seven muttered. "I did not know how one would wrap such a thing."

"It seems efficient to me, Seven," Tom Paris suggested helpfully, also sensing her discomfort. "May I?" he asked, offering in gentlemanly fashion to unveil Seven's gift on her behalf.

Seven cast her eyes downward and gave a half-hearted nod.

A chorus of gasps accosted her ears, and she felt suddenly and impossibly *more* wretched, almost to the point of tears.

"Seven," Torres asked in disbelief, "did you make this yourself?"

"Yes," she admitted in a small voice. "In truth, I should not have attempted it. I am too inexperienced in this artistic medium. And the object itself is deplorably useless."

There were hushed comments all around Seven, as various members of the crew pointed aghast at the object, sputtering interjections like "Oh my goodness!" and "Look at that!" Seven thought the object must be truly horrid to elicit such passionate responses.

Janeway herself had not responded at all. Seven stole a look at her and could tell that the Captain was deeply unsettled, so much so that she could not even utter the usual polite platitudes. She was speechless, her mouth agape as she stared at the object before her.

Janeway, for her part, was quite simply in awe. She marveled at the object and began walking around it to study it from all angles. She could tell that the basic structure was a Borg cube, cast in burnished duranium, but emanating from its surfaces, in polished duranium, were high-relief figures with warm, familiar visages.

"Is that Kes?" Neelix asked in disbelief, pointing to one side of the cube.

"Yes."

Janeway craned to see it and took a breath. "And this," she said, pointing to the two bust-like figures at the top, one reaching out to the other from behind, "that's me, isn't it, comforting you in the brig when we stopped you from returning to the Borg?"

"Yes," Seven replied tentatively, slightly relieved that the Captain had finally spoken.

"These are depictions from when you first joined Voyager. Yes?"

Seven cocked her head at Janeway. She thought she caught a hint of something in the Captain's voice that sounded vaguely like....wonder?.....excitement? "That is correct," she said, a bit of her Borg assertiveness returning.

"And the images emanate from a Borg cube," Janeway observed aloud.

"Yes, Captain."

Janeway was now on one of her analytical rolls, thoroughly engrossed in giving her artistic interpretation of Seven's sculpture and barely taking a breath between points: "The cube signifies your assimilation as drone, as part of the Borg hive mind. And the scenes erupting from its surface symbolize the emergence of your own mind, your singular voice and identity. Here, initially, as a result of Chakotay linking with you while B'Elanna overloaded your Borg neuro-transceiver to cut you off from the Collective. And here as a result of Kes and the Doctor extracting your Borg implants to rehumanize your physiology. And here and here, as a result of my efforts, through our art studies with the Maestro and through our Velocity games, to rehumanize your nature."

Seven gasped wide-eyed, deeply moved that the Captain understood her meaning so perfectly.

Janeway paused just then and turned to regard the young woman questioningly. "Seven?" she asked, suspecting why the young woman had made this gift for her but suddenly afraid to read too much into it.

Seven understood the implied question and obligingly supplied the explanation the Captain sought: "I can never properly thank you for what you did for me, Captain" she said. "But I did want to try at least to show you some of my gratitude. This object can only *approximate* my feelings; ultimately, it is insufficient."

Janeway approached Seven until she was barely inches from her. It was then that Seven noticed that the Captain's eyes were shimmering with moisture as they stared into Seven's eyes, dancing from one to the other. "Seven! Oh, Seven! It is *not* insufficient; it's *tremendous*!"

Seven felt her heart catch at the words. She warmed as the realization hit her that the Captain sincerely liked her gift, that she actually loved her gift. She was beaming with pride when, suddenly, Janeway wrapped her arms around her and pulled her into a warm embrace, accompanied by cheers and applause from the rest of the crew.

Seven's head was swimming: more, she realized, from the Captain's proximity than from the crew's boisterous approval of her work. In fact, she noticed that she could no longer actually hear the crew. All she could hear was her own blood thumping heartbeats against her eardrums.

The Captain did not immediately release the embrace; in fact, she seemed to tighten it. Seven could feel the heat of the Captain's body penetrating the front of her unitard, could feel the tautness of back muscles and the warmth of flesh against her hands, which had wrapped themselves around Janeway in semi-automatic response.

She was suddenly flooded with sensations she didn't quite understand: a fluttering in her chest and abdomen, a suffusion of heat throughout her body that seemed to be erupting in dots of perspiration along her hairline and in other kinds of moisture elsewhere, except, of course, in her mouth, which felt suddenly very dry. These unexpected reactions made her feel self-conscious about hugging the Captain.

Before Seven could break away, however, Janeway did something still more unexpected. In an exceptionally honeyed tone, she whispered "Thank you, Seven," alongside Seven's ear and then promptly pressed her lips against Seven's cheek.

Seven caught her breath. She knew, abstractly, what a kiss was, even had a vague memory of being kissed by her parents when she was still Annika Hansen. But she had no experience of ever having been kissed as an adult, of anyone ever having physically expressed affection for her as Seven of Nine. She therefore had no way of knowing (could not even have imagined!) that such a simple little gesture could evoke such a wild rush of strange emotions and physiological sensations as those that were now accosting her.

Seven recoiled from Janeway in alarm. Unbidden, her hands reared up to cup her face, trying in vain to cool cheeks that had suddenly gone too hot.

Then, to her horror, someone commented aloud on her unfortunate condition, calling it to everyone's attention: "Seven is blushing!"

The Captain pulled back smiling and observed Seven at arms' length, allowing protectively, "Too much flattery and attention, I'd say. Seven isn't used to that."

"Little Miss 'Borg Perfection'?!" Torres blurted out mockingly. "You've got to be kidding!"

Finally, amid the gentle laughter that followed, Janeway released her hold on Seven, to the young woman's visible relief. The Captain frowned slightly at Seven's reaction but did not pursue that train of thought. Instead, she turned her attention to Chakotay, who had cleared his throat to speak, sympathetically sensing, as his longtime Maquis friend Torres had sensed, that attention needed to be deflected from the obviously flustered ex-Borg.

"You know, Captain, this truly is beautiful. Seems a shame to tuck it away in your quarters where no one will ever see it again," he teased.

Janeway seemed to ignore the tease: "I agree, Chakotay. If it's all right with everyone, I'd like to display it here in the mess for a few weeks, so that all the crew can have a chance to enjoy it." Then she glared at Chakotay, humor flickering in her eyes as she continued: "After that, however, I think I'd like to install it in my Ready Room, which isn't too tucked away, is it Commander?"

"No," he grinned, ignoring the mock menace in her tone. "Your much more generous about inviting us to your Ready Room, Captain!"

Janeway barked with laughter, as did the rest of the crew.

Seven only smiled, but inwardly, she was extremely grateful to the Captain and the Commander, and even Lieutenant Torres, for initiating this distracting banter. As everyone's attention was momentarily diverted from her, she took the opportunity to inhale an enormous gulp of calming air and try to compose herself.

***** Sensations -- Part 2
 

Seven exhaled a huge sigh of relief when the cargo bay doors closed behind her, feeling as though she had been holding her breath for the last 86 minutes. She had spent the rest of the time at the party circulating among the crew, tolerating their compliments as long as it meant that she could keep a judicious distance from the Captain. She wasn't quite sure why she had needed that. All she knew was that the physical contact with the Captain had unsettled her. Now that she had returned to the safe haven of Cargo Bay 2, she could analyze those feelings, try to understand what had happened, what they meant.

She paced the bay back and forth, an action that part of her considered inefficient, a waste of physical energy. Another part of her allowed, however, that the physical exertion made her feel a little better in her agitated state. It helped her think.

And what she needed to think about was her reaction to the Captain's embrace. She recalled having had similar if less intense feelings once before. Recently, when she had submitted herself to social lessons in romance that involved a first date, she had, at the Doctor's direction, "softened her look" by wearing a dress and pulling her hair down from its habitual twist. The Captain had been away on a diplomatic mission, but on her return she had inquired about how the lessons had gone and was curious about Seven's attire, so the young woman had modeled the dress and hair style for Janeway. To her surprise, the Captain had gasped at the sight of Seven, appraising her up and down and announcing that she looked "breathtakingly beautiful." Seven could not understand why these superficial changes elicited this remarkable response, but she did consider it an apt statement since the Captain did, indeed, seem to have had her "breath taken."

Seven had been unaccountably warmed by the Captain's praise, and she had noticed something vaguely familiar in the Captain's unguarded appraisal. The dilated pupils, the lingering gaze, the hint of red in the cheeks: it was the same look Harry Kim often gave her. The similarity made Seven realize with a shock that the Captain's look, too, had been laced with *desire*!

It was that conclusion -- enormous in its implications -- that had, in turn, caused a quite extraordinary reaction to stir in Seven. Whereas the Ensign's attentions annoyed Seven, the Captain's had excited her to her core, sending an almost electrical tickle surging through her body: the same charge she felt now from the residual sensation of the Captain's embrace at the party.

Seven fingered the section of cheek where Janeway had kissed her. Involuntarily, she closed her eyes and brought her fingers to her lips now, as if the gesture would bring the Captain's lips vicariously to her own. The fluttering renewed itself, and Seven realized with a start that she desperately wanted to kiss Janeway back; and not a chaste kiss on the cheek, but the more intimate locking of lips that most humans tended to reserve for their lovers.

She thought about that for a moment, about how the Captain might react to an intimate physical contact, and one that she had not initiated. In all the time they had known each other, Seven had never seen anyone embrace the Captain. In fact, now that she thought about it, she had never seen the Captain embrace anyone else, either. Sometime back, when Voyager had been subjected to regular inspections by the Devore, a species that detested telepaths and suspected that Janeway was harboring refugees, there had been some talk that the Captain had become romantically involved with the head inspector, Kashyk. Seven realized, however, that the Captain's interactions with the alien had been utilitarian rather than sincere: a ruse to deflect his suspicions while she secured the escape of the telepaths she *was* assisting.

As long as they were lost in the Delta Quadrant, Seven doubted that the Captain ever *would* allow herself to form an intimate bond with someone, least of all a member of her crew. The thought made her feel hopeless. She rubbed her right eye, suddenly very tired and not wanting to think anymore. With bone weary resignation and a too familiar sense of loneliness washing over her, the former Borg stepped up into her alcove and began regenerating.

***** Sensations -- Part 3
 

Seven of Nine was already unconscious when the cargo bay doors slid open to admit the Captain.

Janeway immediately noticed the young woman regenerating in her alcove, and her heart fell a bit at the sight. She had wanted to talk to Seven privately, had extricated herself from the party as soon as she had been able, but it had not been soon enough. She approached the dais and observed Seven, considering whether she should interrupt the cycle.

Seven had been clearly disturbed by Janeway's hug, was probably very confused. Janeway wanted.....what, exactly? To apologize? To explain that she had simply been overwhelmed by Seven's gift? The hug was "innocent," she told herself. An embrace between friends. Indeed, an expression of her gratitude for the time and thought and effort that Seven had expended in making the sculpture, which was truly imaginative and spectacular, meriting no small amount of praise.

But perhaps she had let that hug linger a little too long, she considered ruefully. Maybe it had turned into something else, something more. She couldn't deny that at some point in the embrace, she began very much enjoying the physical contact with Seven, the press of the young woman's warm body against hers, the pressure of that magnificent firm bosom against her own more humble offering, the slight tickle and irresistibly sweet scent of Seven's hair against her nose and brow.

With a gasp, Janeway came to the disturbing realization that hugging Seven had aroused her. And instead of breaking off the contact at that point, as social etiquette and Starfleet sensibilities dictated, she had tightened the embrace, had even kissed Seven right there in front of everyone.

Janeway covered her face in sudden shame, tears beginning to well in her eyes. 'Oh, God, how could I have done this to her?!' she thought. She felt certain that Seven, despite her inexperience, had somehow sensed that the Captain's embrace had gotten a little too amorous, and the realization had no doubt truly shocked the young woman and, what's worse, had embarrassed her. 'I made her blush! Made her feel guilty and ashamed when all the time it was *my* fault!'

She couldn't simply leave things where they were, couldn't bear the thought of Seven waking the next morning and still feeling as though she had done something wrong when she hadn't. Janeway started for the controls to interrupt the regeneration cycle when she suddenly heard Seven sigh.

Startled, Janeway looked up at Seven. The Borg's eyes were closed but fluttering lightly beneath their lids as if the young woman were dreaming. "Seven? Are you awake?" Janeway climbed up on the dais and looked closely into Seven's face.

There was something out of the ordinary about Seven's expression. It was not the placid superiority that was typical of the ex-Borg, in both waking and regenerative states. Rather, the expression was softer than usual, more at peace, more pleased. As she watched, Janeway could see a gentle smile beginning to curve the corners of the young woman's full lips. And then the lips parted.

"Kathryn."

It was said in a whisper. A name expelled in a breath like a second sigh. *Her* name. Emanating from Seven's lips, for the first time ever, and said with more emotion than Kathryn could ever remember hearing in anything the ex-Borg had ever said.

Kathryn blinked against the din of information conveyed in that one word so sweetly uttered. There was evidently more to Seven's discomfort earlier that evening. Perhaps it wasn't that Seven had sensed something untoward in Kathryn's embrace; rather, perhaps Seven herself had felt something stir inside. Kathryn studied Seven's face again and could suddenly see quite plainly that she had awakened something in Seven, something Seven had never experienced before: physical attraction, titillation, desire.

Kathryn backed off the dais, almost tripping off the edge in her haste to create some distance between herself and Seven. She was unnerved by this new development. What a mess she had made of things. Seven in lust.....maybe even in love.....with her.....with the Captain!

Unknowingly retracing Seven's earlier path, Kathryn began to pace in her own agitation, compelled to get her blood circulating so that she could figure out how best to handle what had suddenly become a very complicated situation. She couldn't just reject Seven out of hand: the young woman's emotional development, her rehumanization, was a very delicate process.

It wasn't that Seven was dispassionate; that was just a front. Whereas Seven's other shipmates considered her "a cold fish," as B'Elanna had once put it, Janeway knew better. She understood that Seven was in fact every bit as emotionally volatile as the half-Klingon chief engineer. Seven's problem was in not understanding social norms, which meant that other people's feelings did not typically factor in to how the ex-Borg interacted with them. This did not mean, however, that Seven lacked feelings of her own. Indeed, in the two years she had known her, Kathryn had seen Seven frightened and desperately alone (particularly when she was first severed from the hive mind), spiritually in awe (during the incident with the Omega molecule), grief stricken (when One died), scared and distraught (in their encounter with the infected Borg vinculum that made Seven's assimilated personalities resurface), and angry and frustrated (whenever Kathryn beat her yet again in a game of Velocity). Kathryn smiled, despite herself, at that last thought.

And now, these new emotions: in a sense, Seven's psychological puberty. Her first crush!

Kathryn frowned. A crush. That notion seemed suddenly too dismissive. What if it isn't just a crush? If she respected Seven at all, she couldn't simply assume that what the young woman was feeling was a childish infatuation. It may be her first romantic inclination, but that doesn't make it immature or inappropriate. Seven was, after all, a grown woman, intellectually gifted if not always emotionally mature, and definitely self-possessed if not always well-versed in the social norms governing if and how she should express her own feelings. No, she decided. She should not underestimate the depth of Seven's emotions. She was certain that whatever the young woman was feeling, those sentiments were quite sincere.

She stopped pacing and turned back to look at Seven again, and what she saw made her heart skip a beat. Seven's face was almost aglow with emotion now, the smile on her lips having broadened to its fullest extent. Kathryn was struck by how achingly beautiful Seven looked just then, and her own reaction disturbed her further. With a rueful grin, she reminded herself that this wasn't going to be simply about what Seven was feeling; Janeway felt something, too, for Seven. And she was going to have to make damned sure that those feelings didn't get in the way of doing the right thing, for the sake of her ship, of her crew, and of one innocent and terribly lonely young woman discovering love for the first time.

Deeply depressed now and emotionally exhausted, Janeway turned on her heal and left for her quarters, anticipating a fitful night of sleep.....and unconsciously praying for pleasant dreams.

***** Sensations -- Part 4
 

The messhall was bustling as usual and showing no signs, Seven noticed, of the previous night's festivities -- except, of course, for the new art object positioned conspicuously in one, well-traveled corner. Seven swallowed back a resurgence of her pride and renewed her survey of the room, immediately spotting the trio of shipmates she had asked the computer to locate.

B'Elanna, Tom, and Harry were halfway through their breakfast and laughingly discussing the party when Seven approached their table. "May I join you?" she asked, tray in hand.

Both Harry and Tom looked to B'Elanna for their cue, knowing that the chief engineer had a deeply cultivated dislike for the former Borg, but B'Elanna missed her cue or else feigned not to notice that she was supposed to hate Seven. In fact, she seemed almost pleased to see her. "Sure," she said, "take a load off."

"We were just talking about the Captain's birthday party," Harry offered eagerly.

"Yes," Tom chimed in, "and your amazing gift. The Captain sure loved it." He studied Seven closely for a reaction to his last comment.

Seven caught his intent. And as was her custom, she got to the point immediately, ignoring the usual social taboos and cultural guardedness against revealing one's emotions to just anyone. "It is the Captain I wish to discuss with the three of you." She considered for a moment how to put what she was about to say and found herself suddenly and quite inexplicably concerned about how Harry Kim might react. "Ensign Kim," she began, "Harry," she amended, "at one time I believe you had romantic feelings for me, and I did not reciprocate. I wish to apologize for any pain I may have caused you then or that I may cause you now by what I'm about to say."

Harry frowned, too curious to feel embarrassed by her dissecting his former feelings so openly: "Seven, I'm actually passed that and really just think of you as a friend now. But what does this have to do with the Captain?"

Seven nodded, feeling now at liberty to proceed. "I wanted you to understand that if you did have romantic feelings towards me, I could not reciprocate because I believe I have developed those feelings for the Captain."

Her companions froze, their mouths agape.

"Your candor never ceases to amaze me, Seven," B'Elanna blurted out after a moment, not unkindly. "Actually, I think we all sensed something like that from the way you reacted last night when the Captain kissed you."

Seven's expression softened as she remembered, her hand rising up involuntarily to touch the spot where Kathryn had pressed her lips. When she continued, her voice took on an emotional timbre that B'Elanna and Tom and Harry had never heard from her before. "I have never felt sensations like that. They were physiological in nature, but incomprehensibly pleasant: a fluttering in my abdomen, a pounding in my chest, heat suffusing my face and skin, and I felt for a moment as if I'd forgotten how to breathe!" She looked up at her companions, incredulity coloring her words: "How can one forget how to breathe?!"

Her three shipmates laughed openly and knowingly at her last declaration. And they were suddenly surprised and extremely pleased to see the former Borg smile back at them in return. "Yes, I can see you understand!" she blurted. "It *is*.....joy!" She became still more animated as she continued. "And last night I believe I dreamed about the Captain. At one point, I even felt quite strongly that she was present with me in the cargo bay, watching me. It made me feel......not alone."

She took a breath and eyed her companions, now beginning to frown a bit. "I am concerned, however, that the Captain will not reciprocate my feelings. I require....I request, your advice about how best to proceed."

"Wow," Tom exclaimed, "you sure know how to pick the tough ones, don't you Seven?"

"Explain."

"What Tom means," B'Elanna offered, "is that there are a lot of reasons why the Captain, unfortunately, might not want to or even feel that she's able to return your feelings, Seven."

"Yeah," Harry chimed in. "For one thing, she's the Captain, and Starfleet has some pretty specific protocols regarding captains fraternizing with their crew."

"Although," B'Elanna suggested, partly to herself as well, "that's one protocol that she might want to consider forgetting about out here in the Delta Quadrant, unless she plans to spend the next few decades alone."

"Maybe she *should* forget about it," Tom offered. "It's depressing not having someone special in your life. It can't be good for her."

"Well, she was engaged for a long time to that guy Mark," Harry offered.

"Yeah, until the jerk dumped her," B'Elanna added.

"Well, you can't really blame him," Tom added. "For all he knew, she had died out here, until we were able to send those transmissions to let them know what happened to us."

"Still, it can't have been easy on the Captain," B'Elanna considered. "She's probably lonely as hell! Lonelier than any of us because of that stupid Starfleet protocol."

Seven felt that the conversation had gotten away from her and saw an opportunity to bring it back on course. "So what you are saying, Lieutenant, is that there may be a way to convince the Captain, for her own sake, to relax protocol and consider becoming involved with me."

B'Elanna blinked, trying to refocus her attention on Seven's problem. "Oh. Well.....actually, even if you get past that objection, there are a couple of other things to consider, Seven. For example," she continued, "there's the fact that you're female. As far as I know, all of the Captain's previous lovers have been men. I don't know if she'd be attracted to a woman."

"I see," Seven frowned. "But.....could I not be her first?"

"Well if any woman could," Tom started, but B'Elanna's swift elbow to his ribs made him abort his statement. The trio laughed.

"I believe you were about to pay me a compliment," Seven observed seriously. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Tom grinned through his pain.

Seven turned to B'Elanna. "What else should I be concerned about?"

"There's the age difference," Harry offered. "You're almost twenty years younger than the Captain. That might bother her. It might make her worry that she's taking advantage of you."

"But how could she think that if I am the one who initiates the relationship?"

"Well, in a way, Seven, *she* initiated something between the two of you when she hugged and kissed you yesterday. That and the fact that she's in a position of authority over you complicates any relationship you might have with her. You may think you're attracted to her as an individual without realizing how much of your affection for her may be influenced by her age and rank."

"I profess I do not know how anyone could consider Captain Janeway as a person without considering her age and rank; they are an integral part of who she is. They give her her wisdom and experience, her commanding presence."

"You know, you guys," Tom interjected, addressing B'Elanna and Harry, "I think we're over complicating things here and confusing Seven unnecessarily. Seven isn't Starfleet, and she isn't your typical human; she's just not as likely as the rest of us to have the same deference to rank and age. What I'm saying, Seven," he continued, "is that I don't think the Captain's rank and her age would be the main reasons you're attracted to her, which is what B'Elanna is getting at."

"Why *are* you attracted to her?" B'Elanna suddenly asked.

Seven's expression became wistful again. "She is kind, caring, intelligent, head-strong, and self-assured," she began in a quick staccato beat. "She is brave and strong in character and will. Yet, at the same time, she is vulnerable and complex. She takes care of me but also elicits in me a strong desire to take care of her. She does not back off from a fight but also seems always inclined to try, first, to find a more diplomatic solution, even with the Borg!" She paused, remembering something. "Do you know that when I was connected to the hive mind and the Captain first approached us with this idea for an alliance against Species 8472, we were impressed by her courage? The Borg are not easily impressed," she explained unnecessarily. "I may no longer be linked with the Collective, but I remain impressed by that courage. All of these qualities attract me to the Captain. And I also find her physical features, particularly her eyes and her smile, extremely pleasant to regard. She is in every respect a most unique and compelling individual. And after she touched me last night, I became acutely aware of physiological desires I have towards her. I feel an overwhelming need to be physically intimate with her. I cannot be certain, but I believe these sensations and emotions that I have toward the Captain mean that I love her."

Seven blinked, suddenly finished. She studied her companions and was surprised to find them once again speechless. "Are there any other reasons Captain Janeway may not wish to love me back?"

"With emotions for her like the ones you've just described, Seven," Tom replied, "she'd be a fool not to love you back."

Seven smiled back at Tom, pleased with his conclusion. After a moment, she continued, less certain: "There is one more concern that might make the Captain reluctant to return my affections: the crew. There are still many who dislike me because I am Borg and who might therefore object to the Captain becoming involved with me. Therefore, I must ask, particularly you, Lieutenant Torres, since your dislike of me is well known." She paused to see if B'Elanna would contradict her and proceeded, unsurprised, when she didn't. "Lieutenant, despite everything you have said so far this morning to assist me, do you think I am an unsuitable candidate for the Captain's affections? Would you object to my becoming her lover?"

B'Elanna stared back at Seven for what seemed a very long time before finally answering. "I think if you had asked me that yesterday morning, I would have had to say 'yes'. But you seem a different person today, Seven. More human. And really sincere about this. As long as you make the Captain happy, I wouldn't object. As for the rest, I trust the Captain's ability to separate her personal feelings for you from her professional responsibilities to her ship and her crew. So I don't see a problem."

Seven was both warmed and relieved by the assessment and felt sincerely grateful: "Thank you, B'Elanna."