Living

(In which KJ makes a vow)

By jeny_nour

“There will be talk.”

“Possibly.”

“This crew. They are very protective, of you, and—” the Borg’s hand waved; to all that was held at bay outside the walls of this holodeck simulation. “—might not, take kindly to this type of— liaison.”

The Captain’s jaw jutted, ground left and right for a moment, then she dipped her head in silent, but reluctant agreement. Kathryn lay on her side; hands clasped around her knees, pondering the words she felt hesitant to voice aloud. The gentle light from the Maestro’s fireplace dappled the two women’s faces and naked shoulders where they lay under the fur spread near the stone hearth.

Seven could not read Kathryn’s face, being spooned, up behind her, but she perceived the quickening heart rate, the rise in temperature. The under tone thrumming of Kathryn’s rapidly blinking eyes. And she sighed, long, deep. Still. Waiting.

But her captain; her mentor and confidant, and now, after their whispers in the slowly diminishing firelight, the positions they had held each other in, the sighs and moans exchanged, her lover; now there were no prompt and confident declarations forthcoming to belay Seven’s dire observation.

Seven’s words drew the captain’s mind to Engineering, to a nagging confrontation between herself and B'Elanna. How she had reacted hearing that the determined engineer had gone through Seven's personal logs. Lord knew what might be in them, if Kathryn's own logs were any gauge. The scuttlebutt could make the rounds of a ship this size in a single duty rotation.

And then having to lecture B'Elanna for accessing those logs without prior authorization. Keeping the true whys and wherefores of how she felt about Seven deep inside. What a hypocrite she felt like, at that final admonishment: I don’t know what happened on that sphere, and neither do you Lieutenant. Carry on!

But the feelings that welled up once Seven was safe back on board… there was no denying those feelings. How much longer could those feelings be kept under wraps? Neither of them could out run what had happened tonight. Outrun what they realized they could no longer live without.

Finally Kathryn spoke, her voice low, husky, edged in tears, “I’ve said something much like this to you once, also in the dark.” She reached for the Borg’s fingers and laced hers through them, their bodies held in a closeness each of the women would have given anything to dissolve momentarily, to merge, truly as one. “On a sphere, quite a ways from here, Dearheart.”

Kathryn’s palms were damp, her pulse pounded, Seven felt it through their entwined limbs, heard it in the close proximity between her ear and the silky smoothness of Kathryn’s neck.

“I’d like to try saying it again, Seven. Perhaps I used the wrong word that first time.”

Seven waited, patient, having opened her heart, there were no more of her own words to share. Their thoughts were one.

Then, in the dimness, came Kathryn’s voice, “I’m not living without you.”