The bar was raucous, smoky, and dimly-lit. Starfleet uniforms and civilian clothing drank in solitary, or spoke together in lively groups. In a far corner, Dabo girls tantalized hopeful gamblers into parting with their latinum - 'Come on, have another spin!'

Seven sat at a drink-stained table and listened to the patrons' chatter as they sipped synthehol with their peers. A Bajoran in a tiny skirt and ludicrous heels tottered by, a swaying tower of glasses cradled in her arm. Seven kept her eyes upon her as she tinkled past. An ancient juke box crooned out songs to anyone who cared, and the flashing sign over the doorway beckoned to the throng of potential customers as they walked the station's promenade.

An entering customer stopped by the bar and came to Seven's booth. A clink of glass against the tabletop produced a bottle with a slice of lemon stuffed into its neck. Seven followed the line of the attached arm upwards.

"Captain," she uttered, half anticipatory and half scared, "I was uncertain you would come."

Janeway folded her legs beneath the table and strangled her own bottle. Her fingers were wrapped firmly around its slender neck. "Nor did I. Although I did invite you..." She caught her partner's eyes with her own, filled with resolve, "And here I am."

They listened to the cacophony of humanoids laughing into one another's ears. Seven took a small sip from her bottle and then eyed it with distaste. "Captain, this is not synthehol." She sounded almost scandalized.

The elder woman smirked, "No Seven, it's not."

A triumphant cheer of 'Dabo!' turned both of their heads around. Latinum scraped across the playing table, while the smiling hostesses encouraged punters to bet on even more.

The Dabo wheel resumed its spinning and Seven returned her attention to her drink. Janeway followed, "- And anyway, it has been three years since we made it home. Surely you're used to alcohol by now?

Seven watched Janeway drink, and wondered how she could bear the taste. Janeway gazed at her expectantly, so Seven answered, "Yes Captain, of course I am. However I would prefer something sweeter to this..." She squinted at the frosty label, "...brew."

Her apt description earned a low-pitched chuckle and a shrug. Janeway drained her bottle and returned it to the table with a thud. "You needn't call me Captain anymore," Janeway instructed, "It's no longer my job."

She picked up her empty beer bottle, her eyes seeking a clear path to the bar. Janeway tapped a fingernail along the bottle's lip. "Want another?" She asked.

Seven frowned and tilted her near-untouched bottle, "I have not finished this one yet."

There was a shout of outrage from the far wall. A Klingon and two Humans were busy playing darts.

'Oh come on Worf, I'm already playing from ten paces back.'

'Ten paces are not enough. It should be fifteen, perhaps more!'

Seven watched the second Human give the Klingon a friendly nudge.

'Don't be such a sore loser, Worf. Any further and he'll be shooting from the promenade.'

The Klingon remained unimpressed, 'He is genetically enhanced...'

Seven reached her hand out and stopped the Captain before she could return to the bar. "However, you may buy me something icy." Seven pondered for a moment, "- And sweet."

Janeway smiled and then headed for the bar. Seven ran her fingertip through the condensation forming on the outside of her drink. The beads of water felt quite cold against her flesh. Janeway was now gesturing widely with the owner of the bar. The galaxy had been in love with the Captain once, during the months which followed Voyager's return.



The hype had boiled down into whispers and glances. Seven could see one of those whisperers seated at a table right now. It was a small Starfleet Ferengi with a menagerie of pointed teeth. He was talking to his friend, a skinny, dark skinned young man. 'Hey, look who's talking to my uncle. Isn't that Captain Janeway?'

Seven was gratified to see that Janeway was heading back. She held a glass of ominously smoking liquid in each hand. Seven's eyebrows rose, "What is that?"

Janeway sat back down at their table and peered suspiciously at her own glass. Cold white steam cascaded softly over its rim. "The barman said it was a 'Warp Core Breach' - you did ask for something cold and sweet."

Seven accepted that Janeway was correct, and tentatively sipped her steaming drink. She swallowed the cocktail with approval. "It is sufficiently sweet."

"I'm glad." Janeway stirred her cocktail with a straw, watching the steaming liquid swirl around. She cradled her chin in her hand, and let her companion enjoy her drink.

After a moment's background noise, Janeway asked, "So tell me how you've been doing, Seven. How are you and Chakotay?"

She was surprised when Seven shrugged. Her full pink lips pressed into a frown- "As a couple we are functioning adequately." Seven supposed, although she did not appear to be convinced. "Chakotay is fine."

Someone knocked some glasses from a table, the shatter of glass caused the noise level to rise, 'Lies!'

Seven and Janeway paused their conversation to watch the Barkeep intervene. 'Hey, hey, hey - no fighting in my bar. Take this outside, go on, get out. And you can expect a bill for damages in the meantime!'

Together they watched the patrons leave. Their heated argument followed them onto the promenade.

Janeway slowly turned back to Seven and her swirling cocktail. "...Does Chakotay even know you're here?"

The younger woman glanced around, "My destination was irrelevant. I neglected to inform him."

"So he doesn't know?"

Seven took a long, slow drink. "No."

There was another shriek of 'Dabo!' from the patrons of the bar, and a roar of indignation from the Klingon playing darts. Around the duo's silence, the business of the bar's patrons carried on.

Janeway put her straw down and reached for Seven's hand. "How about we get away from here?" She suggested, "It's beginning to get a little loud."

From the other side of the greasy table, Seven nodded her head, "An efficient plan."

*

Janeway's quarters were utilitarian but far from bleak. There was a couch beneath a wide-paned window and a vase which held an exotic floral spray. The architecture was Cardassian in design, and the patterns on the doors were formed from curving lines.

Janeway asked Seven to take a seat, while she went to the replicator set into the wall, "Seven, would you like anything?"

"Not at this time, but thank you." Seven replied.

Janeway nodded and spoke to the replicator, "Coffee, black."

There was a noise like gloop, and then a pin-drop moment filled with silence. The machine produced the liquid, but neglected to include the cup. The container-less coffee sloshed on the floor.

"Oh damn!"

Seven watched Janeway grab a towel and mop at the stain which was spreading over the floor. She smiled at a memory, "This reminds me of an incident on Voyager."

Janeway looked across at her, "Of my replicator breaking?"

"Yes, and it would give you nothing but long-stemmed roses."

"Oh, that one," Janeway cringed. "Glitch in the bio-neural circuitry, I ended up with a dozen of them. It still gives me nightmares."

Janeway bunched the wet cloth up and tossed it into a hamper to be recycled the next day. She walked back across to Seven, and sat beside her on the couch.

Seven said, "Illogical. There is nothing sinister about a bouquet."

"Try telling yourself that when all you want is a cup of coffee."

"I see."

Janeway slumped across the couch and held herself upright with one elbow. Her gaze was far away and nostalgic. Seven listened to her kick her shoes off and wriggle her bare toes.

"It's ironic," started Janeway, "Seven years' journey to reach home, and I still dream of going back again."

"To the Delta Quadrant?"

Janeway nodded, her hair mussed slightly against the younger woman's ribs. Seven shifted subconsciously towards the touch. Then, without thinking about the action, Seven stroked her fingers through Janeway's red hair. Seven knew it was the alcohol thinking for her. Whenever she drank, her cortical functions became impaired. Janeway however, did not seem to mind, and finally released a pensive sigh.

"Do you ever wonder what it would have been like?" Janeway asked.

Seven looked at Janeway in confusion, which caused her to elaborate, "If you hadn't met Chakotay, I mean."

There was a creak of polyester as they both shifted on Janeway's couch. Seven's fingers paused in mid-stroke though her reclining companion's hair. She only had to think about it for a minute, "If I had not met Chakotay, then I would not have met you."

Janeway turned in Seven's lap, so she now looked directly up at the other woman's face. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Janeway wondered.

Seven didn't even pause, "Bad." She declared, "You have been an important person in my life. - You still are."

Janeway smiled through drowsy lashes, "I'm very glad." She paused for a moment to rein back her fatigue. "You've been an integral person in my life, too." She continued, "Have I ever told you that?"

"No," Seven shook her head slowly, "Although I was not completely unaware."

The heat from Janeway's body quickly dissipated as the elder woman sat back up. Seven's cooling lap mourned the absence, but Janeway did not move too far away. They held each other through their gaze.

Janeway said, "You did nothing, even though you knew?"

"You would not have accepted it."

Any argument on Janeway's part deflated, she had to admit that it was true. She would never have started a relationship with a crewmember, regardless of how strongly she felt. "And so you married Chakotay?" It was the only part of Seven's logic that Janeway didn't understand.

"He was not unkind." Seven reasoned, "He started as an experiment."

Janeway nodded, and lay back down on Seven's lap again. She accidentally uttered a sarcastic remark, "They so often do."

"Kathryn?"

Janeway tiredly waved the question away, "Sorry Seven, bad joke. -Never mind."

Seven's fingers resumed their stroking through the Captain's hair. They dozed in silence, serenaded by the deep space station's low and constant thrum. Seven thought about Chakotay, back in their home on Earth. He was, as far as she knew, a satisfactory man. He was boring, but his heart was in the right place. He was also...Seven searched for an appropriate word, nice. That had to be good. Janeway shifted, and Seven wondered whom she was kidding more - herself or Chakotay.

She nudged at Janeway's shoulder, rousing her from a light sleep. "Would you accept it now?"

Janeway's voice was drowsy and puzzled, "Accept what?"

Seven was unsure about how to continue, and so she demonstrated her meaning with a brush of her mouth against Janeway's lips.

The touch effectively woke the other woman up, and she jumped back as if burned. She pressed her fingers against where the kiss had been. Janeway's reaction made Seven frown. "Kathryn, I thought -"

Janeway could not keep the sadness from her eyes, nor her desire for the younger woman, which she had suppressed for almost a decade. "Have you forgotten, Seven? You're married now."

"Chakotay is irrelevant." Seven declared. She held on to both of Kathryn's hands, "Is this not what you invited me to the station for? So that I would have a chance to realize?"

Janeway started to protest, but paused. "Perhaps, I might have hoped..."

"Then is this not what you -" Seven stopped to correct herself, "-What we have both been hoping for?"

Janeway shut her eyes and whispered, "Yes."

She held her hand up before Seven could kiss her again. She was all too aware that if she let it happen, her self control would melt away. They were both too tired to properly discuss this, and the alcohol they had been consuming left them still slightly drunk.

Kathryn leaned forward and rested her cheek lightly upon Seven's chest. "As much as I want to have you right now Seven, we're both tired, and it has been a very long day. We can talk about this-" She raised her head and locked her gaze with Seven's, "-about us in the morning. I think it would be wiser if we both went to bed."

"Together?"

Seven smirked, and Janeway realized that it was one of Seven's incredibly rare jokes. She shook her head wryly and pointed Seven towards her bedroom door. "You can sleep in my bed, it's through here. I'll take the couch. The bathroom is around the corner."

Janeway allowed herself to squeeze Seven's hand. "Sleep well Seven." She watched as Seven walked away, "Goodnight."

The end