STAR TREK: VOYAGER

An Original Voyager Story

Ó2007 by Patricia L. Givens

Jadzia7627@msn.com

September 2007

Disclaimer # 1: Many of the characters used in this story have been borrowed from the existing Trek universe. I mean them no harm and promise to return them intact (more or less) as soon as I am done. No gain, monetary or otherwise, is expected from their use.

Disclaimer #2: All original characters and storylines contained herein belong to me. (Like anyone else would claim them!) This story may be archived by those so inclined so long as all parts of the story and disclaimers remain entirely intact.

Disclaimer #3: This story depicts a romantic relationship between two consenting females. Some scenes may be graphic, but lovingly so. If you are under the age of 18, you are on your own. Age has never been a factor in wisdom! If this sort of thing is illegal where you live, I guess that proves that wisdom has never been a factor in government!

Who To Blame: Thanks go to G.L. Dartt, because one must always pay homage to their deity. Thank you for all your time and words. Thanks also to Ky, for being so damned patient. Additional thanks to Andrea and Shawn for beta reading.

This is a first time story. With all the first time jitters. I have found that I dislike wasting pages describing the antics of Voyager up till the point before the story begins. We all know where they are and why, and how Seven ended up with them, so I am going to leave that out.

The best time frame for this would be sometime later in the series. LOL Sorry, that’s as exact as it gets.

I welcome all comments, suggestions, criticism and compliments. Please email them to either of the above addresses. Flames concerning the lesbian content will be promptly laughed at, printed, and used to line my cats litter box.

To all that makes us unique!

DAx =/\= The EverBard

It's been so long since I've touched

So long since I wanted

Then you made me laugh

And my heart opened.

-Melissa Etheridge

Captain Kathryn Janeway of the U.S.S. Voyager stared restlessly out of her living room window, her attention focused on the painfully beautiful sphere hanging in the center of her view.

She knew that Chakotay had meant well, instructing Tom to match the planet's speed as it slowly turned on its gravitational axis. His official reason was sound. Maintaining orbit meant that the away teams would never fall out of transporter range…just in case anything should happen. She might even have bought it, if the planet hadn't been devoid of any predator larger than a mouse.

In truth, what he had done was to give her the best possible view of planet below them, one that afforded her the vision of sunlight glistening off of crystal blue oceans by day and the peaceful serenity of the moon's reflection at night.

It was breathtaking.

And so heartbreakingly familiar that she had awoken each morning for the last five days with a smile of joy on her face, not realizing for a few precious moments that the big blue marble outside of her window… wasn't home.

It wasn't Earth. No matter how much she wanted it to be.

Janeway sighed. She had considered requesting that they take up station keeping on the far side of the moon, but the necessary explanations would have been more painful than the view.

After all, she was a Starfleet Captain. Homesickness was part of the job.

And if it sometimes got a little too rough, well she could just find a diversion.

Smiling sadly, she left her quarters and headed for the holodeck.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Seven of Nine stood in the middle of the Astrometrics Lab and wondered idly if she was somehow malfunctioning.

Unlikely, to be sure, but she was at a loss to otherwise explain the emotions she was experiencing. She was irritable and distracted, unable to focus or to find a project that would occupy her attention.

Captain Janeway had asked her if she wished to join the groups on shore leave, but Seven had declined, thinking of all the work she could accomplish if left in peaceful solitude.

But it hadn't worked out that way.

At first, the quiet had been a salve, a welcome change from the loud voices and hectic activities that the crew normally engaged in. Seven found it enormously productive.

For the first two point five days.

It was then that she realized she may have been a little too productive. With all of her projects completed, she turned her attention to the ship, running scans, doing diagnostics, and attempting to improve efficiency by any means possible until a rather unfortunate power surge had temporarily destabilized the Doctor's holomatrix.

Seven had managed to bring him back online, only to be told in no uncertain terms that her days as an engineer were over. Apparently, he was correct. The Captain had been gentle but firm in her opinion that "if it ain't broke, don't fix it." Which she had followed with a suggestion that the ex-drone take some R&R.

As Borg, every moment of her existence was controlled. Her actions were precise, her attentions unhindered. Each task she completed meant only that another would follow. There was no time for rest and relaxation, no time for being irritable or… bored?

Seven stopped short. "I am bored." She said out loud, her voice a surprising presence in the otherwise silent lab.

But more disturbing than that revelation was the one that followed on its heels.

Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One… was lonely.

It was the only explanation. The lab was still the same. The work was still the same. She was assuredly still that same. The only difference was the solitude.

It was more than she was used to, and that surprised her. Until now, she had spent every day aboard Voyager feeling like an outsider, like an intruder. Because of that, she had tried to hold herself away from the people that lived and worked around her, building a wall of indifference between herself and the rest of the crew. It had never occurred to Seven that she might have failed.

And yet, everyday, she was confronted with examples of that failure.

Examples like Naomi Wildman, a small, half-human, half-Katarian child who had been terrified of the ex-Borg at first. Over time, that terror had turned into a respectful fascination which had eventually become a strange sort of friendship. At least, it had seemed that way then.

It didn't seem so strange now. Not since Naomi had told her she considered her family. Not since she discovered that she felt the same way.

B'Elanna Torres was another example. Half-human, half-Klingon, all mouth and attitude, B'Elanna had violently opposed the Captain's decision to bring Seven on board right from the very start. She had been antagonistic, competitive and, on more than one occasion, vaguely threatening towards the ex-drone. Seven never understood it but then, she never cared either. She had simply categorized B'Elanna with the others who loathed her very existence and went on about her work.

But somehow, somewhere, something had changed. It hadn't been huge, nothing drastic or notable. In truth, it was a change she had not even recognized, so gradual was the lessening of animosity between them. Until the day B'Elanna had actually smiled at her. A smile of friendship and grudging respect she had found impossible not to return, albeit in her own, much more subdued way.

But the most glaring example had to be Captain Janeway. The woman who had taken her from everything she had ever known and thrust her into a world she didn't want, filled with people who didn't want her.

But Janeway wasn't satisfied with that. Not only did she drag her, kicking and screaming from her home…but then she removed her implants and with them, her perfection. She took everything from Seven and gave her back a single mind and a single voice where once there had been millions. She took the strength of the Borg and gave her human frailty. She made her into an individual.

And then had the nerve to demand that Seven learn to like it.

It was only more infuriating that Captain Janeway had been right.

As she grew to embrace her own individuality, she found the she also began to appreciate the strength and character the smaller woman possessed. There was something appealing in the duality of her nature. One moment she could be stern and imposing, the next gentle and caring. Seven had been on the receiving end of both and found them equally… invigorating.

She frowned. That was not exactly the word to describe how the Captain made her feel, but she could not seem to formulate a better one. She always found her intellect engaged completely when she spoke with the older woman, something that had surprised her from someone that was not Borg. Yet, at the same time, it was as though Janeway could reach something buried deep within her, a facet that she herself did not know how to access.

It was both frustrating and endearing.

Endearing. Seven wondered that she would use that word to describe the enigmatic red head. She had thought of her in many ways since she had been brought on board Voyager. Captor, Captain, mentor… friend. The last being the most recent development and, if forced to admit it, the most rewarding. And yet, there were other emotions she had been experiencing as of late that were hard for her to categorize. They seemed to surface at the oddest moments, most frequently, when the Captain smiled.

But she was still getting used to her all too human reactions. They tended to crop up at the most unlikely of moments.

She was equally amazed at the trust that the Captain had placed in her. She had made her not only a senior officer, but the head of Astometrics as well. And even after all their acrimonious disagreements, her faith in the ex-drone had never wavered.

That was why Seven endeavored to make sure her work was perfect. To ensure her department ran smoothly and that she operated at peak efficiency.

Unlike now. The Borg frowned, looking around yet again for something to occupy her time. She thought briefly of going back over the systems she had already checked and found that she was not intrigued by that idea.

She had already recalibrated the sensor array…twice.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Computer end program.”

Captain Janeway stood in holodeck one, staring bleakly at the stark walls of the hologrid. She had been to Fair Haven, visited every one of her holonovels and even took a peek into the status of Tom Paris’ Captain Proton program. None of them seemed to provide the diversion she needed.

She just had too much energy that was the problem. It was keeping her from sleeping and making her listless. There had to be someway to work it off.

Smiling, she thought of one thing. “Computer, locate Seven of Nine.”

“Seven of Nine is in Astrometrics.” The feminine voice replied.

“Computer, what is the present time?”

“The time is 00:07 hours.”

She tapped her commbadge. “Janeway to Seven of Nine.”

“Yes, Captain?”

“Seven, what are you doing?”

“I am reviewing the data from the away teams… again.” She could almost hear the frustration in the ex-drones voice.

“Shouldn’t you be regenerating?”

“It is unnecessary at this time, Captain.”

“All right then, how about a game of Velocity?”

“Captain?”

“I know it’s not our usual time but I thought a game might be just what the doctor ordered.”

“Aye, Captain. I will change my apparel and meet you immediately. Seven out.”

Janeway headed to the locker room and changed into her outfit. She was standing on the hologrid when Seven arrived a few minutes later dressed in her black workout outfit.

“I am surprised to find you awake at this hour, Captain.” She joined the older woman in the center of the room.

“Couldn’t sleep.” The Captain raised her phaser. “I’m red.”

“You are always red.” The Borg raised one eyebrow. “I will be red.”

Janeway started to argue and then laughed, refusing to take the bait. “Fine. Whatever. Computer, begin round.”

The disc appeared between them, glowing red, and Seven quickly struck it with her phaser beam, sending it careening off one of the walls and back at the Captain.

Janeway didn’t move, waiting until the last possible moment before firing at the blue disc, dropping low to take the shot so that it collided with the ceiling, flipping end over end as it sped back towards Seven.

It was one of the Captains standard tactics and the ex-drone side stepped it easily before dropping to one knee, her shot sending the disc into the back wall where it rebounding and struck the Captain solidly between the shoulder blades.

“Full Contact –Janeway. Point to Seven of Nine. Round to Seven of Nine. Score one to zero.”

“Nice move.” Janeway threw her a feral grin. “Let’s see you get away with it again.”

The both played all out, neither one giving an inch, circling each other like warriors on the battlefield. After two and a half hours, the score was tied at three all.

Seven was beginning to get frustrated, as she usually did when she played against the Captain. The woman was infuriating, countering everything she threw at her with a casual grace that was astounding. Suddenly, an idea formed in the Borg’s mind and she moved behind the Captain, closing the space between their bodies until she was almost pressed against her. She matched the older woman’s movements exactly, anticipating her steps each time, often brushing up against her as she took her shots.

“Seven,” Janeway was slightly breathless. “You’re crowding me.”

“I do not believe that this tactic is in violation of the rules, Captain.”

“No, I don’t suppose it is.” She reached back with her arm trying to widen the space between them and felt her hand close on Seven’s breast. It took her a moment to realize where her hand was and, before she pulled it away, she felt the nipple beneath her palm harden.

Seven gasped slightly and stopped moving, giving the Captain the opportunity to send the disc directly into the Borg’s midsection.

“Full Contact – Seven of Nine. Point to Captain Janeway. Round to Captain Janeway. Score three to four.”

Janeway turned to find Seven looking at her sullenly, one eyebrow raised. “Is that a standard tactic, Captain?”

The older woman laughed lightly. “It was unintentional, I assure you. But hell, if it works I might keep it in my repertoire.”

“Indeed.” Seven was flustered and could not discern the reason why. The Captain’s hand had left a trail of warmth in its wake that had moved through her body quickly, causing her other nipple to harden and her stomach muscles to clench. “It would seem that I will have to counter it with creative tactics of my own.”

Janeway swallowed, her throat suddenly dry, confused by the affect Seven’s voice was having on her. Shaking it off, she smiled again. “By all means, you’re welcome to try.”

The Borg resumed her former position, bringing her body even closer to the smaller woman. As she reached around her to take her shot, she allowed her hand to rest on the Captain’s hip, just above the swell of her left buttock. The effect was gratifying. The older woman faltered slightly as she inhaled and the Borg took the opportunity to turn them, placing Janeway into the path of the oncoming disc.

“Full Contact - Janeway. Point to Seven of Nine. Round to Seven of Nine. Score Four All.”

“All right,” Janeway said dryly. “If that’s the way you want to play it.”

Suddenly, the game became less about physical prowess and more about distraction as each of them tried various subtle points of contact to throw the other off balance. Nothing was overt, or could even be considered inappropriate, but the intent was there.

The winning shot came when Janeway suddenly turned around. Their faces were a little more than two centimeters apart and the Borg found herself staring directly into the Captain’s eyes. Her breath caught at the warmth and humor she saw there, highlighted in a dusky blue she could not remember having seen on any occasion previously.

Before she knew what happened, the disc slammed into her back. It wasn’t real, an illusion of contact, but the computer supplied just enough force to push her forward, bringing her lips into contact with Janeway’s for the briefest of moments before she stepped back, her eyes wide.

“Full Contact – Seven of Nine. Point to Captain Janeway. Round to Captain Janeway. Score six to four. Captain Janeway is the winner.”

Full contact indeed. Janeway thought as she stood looking at her opponent. They were both out of breath and a little dazed. Maybe a little more contact than I needed.

She finally broke the silence. “Good game, Seven.” She smirked slightly. “I’m going to have to remember some of those moves in the future.”

“Yes,” The Borg seemed lost in thought. “I will have to remember them as well.”

Seven’s voice seemed a little unsteady but Janeway chalked it up to their having a more strenuous game than usual. “I’m starved. Care to join me for a late night snack?”

“I could use a nutritional supplement as well.”

“Good, get changed. I’ll meet you in my quarters.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“You can’t be serious!” Janeway pushed her plate away and picked up her wine glass, sipping from it before continuing. “Zefram Chochrane was a visionary!”

“Perhaps,” Seven asserted. “I merely maintain that his vision was not one of uniting the planet, but of increasing his personal wealth.”

They had started with a light conversation as they ate dinner, but quickly moved into areas where they each had very different views.

“What are you basing your opinion on?”

“My research into that period of Earth history indicates that most humans lived in a level of extreme poverty. Any efforts on their part would have been focused on improving their individual situations, not the state of mankind as a whole.”

“You’re speculating.” The older woman maintained as she moved over to the couch.

“As are you.” Seven joined her and shocked the Captain when she sat down beside her. “The difference between our speculations is I have quantifiable data to back my assumptions.”

“Such as?”

“Zefram Cochrane only utilized the individuals in his own encampment in his endeavors. If he sought, as you surmise, to facilitate the betterment of the entire species, he would not have deemed the others irrelevant. Assuredly, his project would only have been enhanced had he utilized all of his compatriots.”

“Ok,” The Captain gave her a grudging smile. “I’ll give you that one. But you have to realize that time period was fraught with peril. They were under constant attack by other forces.”

“True,” Seven settled back into the couch and turned to look at her. “But having more individuals to provide security would have been in the interest of all, while his secretive nature lends credence to my hypothesis.”

“But Seven, his efforts led to the first contact with another species, helping to usher in one of the brightest periods in Earth history.”

“I believe Cochrane was merely ‘lucky’ in that regard.”

Janeway gave her a cocky half smile. Seven knew it well. It drew up one corner of her mouth and made her look… adorable. The Borg blinked, wondering where that thought had come from.

“I thought you didn’t believe in luck!”

“The inability to prove the existence of such phenomena does not preclude the fact that such fortuitous situations do occur.”

“Maybe. But what are the chances that at the exact moment that he activated his drive a Vulcan ship would be passing by and just happen to take notice.”

“Ah, now you are changing your argument from intent to divine providence. You are implying that it was not chance, but destiny or fate.”

The Captain smiled again, thoroughly enjoying the conversation. “Let me guess, the Borg don’t believe in fate.”

“The Borg do not…”

“But?” Janeway’s eyebrow shot up in surprise and she leaned closer, putting her hand on Seven’s arm. “Are you saying that you do?”

Seven flushed slightly. “I am still evaluating data on that subject.” She suddenly felt very warm and did not understand why. The Captain had touched her many times before, but for some reason this time it felt different. She remembered how her hand had felt on the holodeck and was astonished to feel her nipple harden beneath her biosuit. She shifted her body away and silently contemplated the floor.

Janeway stared at her for a few moments before clearing her throat. “Well, I guess it’s getting late.”

“Of course, Captain.” The Borg stood up immediately. “You need to rest. I will go.”

“Seven?” The Captain called out to her before she could leave. “I really enjoyed tonight. Would you care to join me again tomorrow? Same time?”

“I would… like that.” Seven nodded slightly in acceptance before leaving.

Janeway sat silently staring down into her wineglass. She had seen the effect her touch had had on the younger woman and found herself torn by it. Seven was a member of her crew, off limits to her by all the principles and protocols she had pledged to uphold. Still, she couldn’t deny the initial thrill that had gone through her at the reaction. She had always thought that Seven was beautiful, as well as intelligent and kind. On the few occasions that she had allowed her mind to evaluate the possible romantic pairings she might be interested in, the ex-drones name had been right at the top of the list. It had just never occurred to her that the thought might have entered Seven’s mind as well.

Exactly what thoughts are we talking about here, Katie?

Could Seven actually be attracted to her? Have feelings for her?

With a heavy sigh she realized that it didn’t really matter. There were some lines that she would just never cross.

She drained the last of her wine before crawling into a bed that seemed somehow emptier than it ever had before.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As soon as she reached the cargo bay, Seven stopped and leaned heavily against the bulkhead, her mind swimming with thoughts she was unfamiliar with. In addition to that, her heart rate had increased, her palms were clammy and she was having a hard time breathing.

She recognized these irregularities. She had come across references to them quite often when she had been researching human sexuality.

She had just never experienced them before.

Or had she? Her eidetic memory scanned through images in her mind and she recognized that she had suffered from these symptoms in the past, just not all at the same time. The only thing they had in common in her memories was that they had always occurred…

Her eyes widened.

They had always occurred when she found herself in the company of one specific individual.

The revelation left her lightheaded. Could she possibly be in love… with the Captain?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Kathryn Janeway pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, trying to stave off the headache she could feel coming on.

And the evening had started out so pleasantly.

First, there had been another interesting game of Velocity. She had never seen Seven play so fiercely. They had stepped up their tactics from the day before and she had found herself rather breathless for reasons other than the game. There had been one moment when she had backed into Seven rather forcefully and had found herself tangled in the younger woman’s arms on the holodeck floor. Startled, she had remained there for a few moments, listening to the pounding of Seven’s heart before her sense of propriety kicked in and she climbed to her feet. Seven had taken longer to get up and, when she did, there was a curious expression on her face, as though she wanted to say something and then changed her mind. Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, she hadn’t asked any questions.

They had gone best out of five this time, with Janeway barely slamming home the winning shot in the fifth game.

Seven had not been happy. She had been losing to the Captain since their very first match and Janeway knew that, sooner or later, Seven would find a way to beat her.

Until then, however, she would revel in the look of respect she received with every point she won, and the grudging look of admiration that the ex-drone bestowed upon her at the completion of every set.

Not to mention how much you enjoy seeing her breathless and disheveled, her little voice offered.

Janeway shook the thought from her head.

Then, there had been dinner. Another quiet affair in the Captain’s quarters, consisting of some stew-like concoction of Neelix’s, which had been rather tasty, and a bottle of wine, which had been utterly fantastic. Seven had brought the wine along with her, a “gift” as she had put it. Janeway had been dubious initially, but by her second glass, she was practically begging Seven to tell her where she had found it and if, by some blessing of the gods, she had any more.

Seven had merely smiled inscrutably and said “Some time ago.” and “Perhaps.”, neither answer assuaged the Captains curiosity, but she was content to let it go…for the time being.

After dinner, they had engaged in a lively conversation about the benefits of exploration versus the time and resources it cost the ship. The trouble hadn’t started until the topic changed to the Prime Directive.

“Seven, you have to understand. The Prime Directive was put into place to make sure that we do not meddle in things that do not concern us.”

The ex-drone snorted. She actually snorted!

“Captain, you cannot honestly say that you have not ‘meddled’ in the lives of numerous species here in the Delta Quadrant.”

“Maybe not. But I can say that anything I may have done did not fundamentally change their development.”

Seven looked at her pointedly. “And what of me?”

Janeway looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“I do believe that all of your actions concerning me have greatly influenced my development.”

“That’s different, Seven. You’re human! You were born human. It was the Borg that changed the course of your development; I simply… corrected your path.”

“I see.” They were sitting on the couch again, bodies turned to face each other and Seven leaned in closer. “May I suggest a hypothesis?”

The Captain smiled, feeling excitement course through her veins. While Velocity and dinner had been fun, it was these conversations she liked best of all. Trading ideas with the ex-drone was one of her true pleasures. “By all means.”

“Is it safe to say that the Borg, regardless of their methods or agenda, are more technologically advanced than the Federation?”

“All right,” Janeway held up her hand. “If we are removing from the equation their propensity for violence and domination, then yes I would have to agree with that statement.”

“Would it also not be true that individuals who join the collective are in some way enhanced by the experience?”

“Join the Collective?” She said dryly. “I don’t think that’s the correct terminology.”

“Perhaps not, Kathryn, but we are not debating the tactics of the Borg, merely the effect they might have on newly integrated species.”

Janeway blinked. Had she just heard that? “All right. Then yes, I can see how assimilation may equate to enhancement.”

“An enhancement that might also be considered a form of evolution?”

“I think your stretching this a bit thin, but I just have to see where you’re going with it so I’ll say yes.”

“Now, taking the Prime Directive as it is written, your alliance with the Borg was not actually a violation as they were more technologically advanced than you and thus you posed no threat of contamination.”

“Remind me to have you around when we get back home and the official inquiries start.” Janeway smiled. “Agreed. Go on.”

“That being said, could separating me from the Collective and your subsequent removal of my implants not be seen as a form of active de-evolution?”

Janeway’s jaw dropped. She started to reply, and then stopped, choosing instead to stare at Seven in astonishment. “So what you’re saying is…”

“That while your involvement with the Borg was not a violation of the Prime Directive, your interference with my evolution was.”

She was dumbstruck. “I never knew you felt that way.” She said softly.

“I do not.”

“But you just said…”

“It was hypothetical, Kathryn. I was merely trying to point out the rather absurd nature of the Prime Directive.”

She definitely heard it that time. “So how do you feel about it?”

Seven looked directly into her eyes. “I am grateful. Every day I find new reasons to be grateful for what you have done for me.”

Janeway smiled, feeling more relieved than she thought was possible.

“But,” The younger woman continued. “Therein lies my point. With Federation technology you could vastly improve the lives of millions, and yet you do not do so based on a principle, the idea that your way is the correct way to interact with other species. How far would the human race have come if the visionaries and idealists in your past had not shared their philosophies and talents with each other?”

“You’re right, that is the point. We shared them with each other. We did not take them from other species. We alone were responsible for our growth as a race.”

“And would you have declined help, had it been available to you? Would you have walked away from a cure to a particularly devastating disease simply because you did not develop it yourself?”

“Of course not.” Janeway ran her fingers through her hair. “And I do see your point but I think we’ve wandered a little off course here. What we have done in the past is simply not relevant. The Prime Directive governs our current actions to ensure that we do not hinder another species natural growth. I know that in our time here in the Delta Quadrant I may have bent Starfleet principles on several occasions, but it was never my intent to cause harm.” She laughed softly, shaking her head.

“Captain?”

“There’s an old Earth saying. ‘The road to hell is paved with good intentions’.”

Seven blinked. “Hell must be populated with Starfleet officers.”

Janeway stared at her for a few moments and then started laughing. It was a full, throaty laugh and it made the hair on the back of Seven’s neck stand up.

Without thinking, the older woman wrapped her arms around the Borg in a tight embrace. “Ah, Seven! You are the wonder of my existence. I love you.”

The words were out before she realized what she was saying and she froze, feeling Seven’s arms wrap around her snugly. “Thank you, Kathryn. The feeling is mutual.”

They sat like that for several minutes until Janeway finally pulled away. She looked into wide, bright blue eyes and took a deep breath, holding it until she thought she might faint.

Say something! Do something! Kiss her for pete’s sake!! Her little voice yammered at her.

“It’s late.” She said finally, standing up. “I have the early shift tomorrow.”

Seven thought that was an odd statement as the Captain always had the early shift, but she was so busy trying to get her mind and body under control that she dismissed it. “Of course.’ She stood up and placed her hand on Janeway’s arm, startling the older woman. “Same time tomorrow?”

Say no! Say No! SAY NO!

“I’d like that.” She kicked herself mentally. Things were already getting out of hand!

“Sweet dreams, Kathryn.”

And she was gone, leaving the Captain feeling decidedly weak in the knees.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Regeneration cycle complete.”

Seven of Nine stepped down from her alcove and walked over to the replicator. “Computer state current time.”

“The time is 23:40 hours.”

Twenty minutes, Seven thought to herself as she began to change into her Velocity outfit. As she pulled the garment on, she let her mind play back the events of the prior evening.

Every moment of the time they had shared together was stored perfectly in her eidetic memory, but the image that constantly sprung to mind was that of the Captain wrapping her arms around her and the simple joy in her voice when she had said ‘I love you.’

It was the first time anyone had said those words to her and she found that they had caused a definite impact on her physiology. It was different from when the Captain had touched her, and yet vaguely similar as well. While the older woman’s hand had created a molten heat that burned throughout her body, those three small words had traveled directly to her heart.

Until that moment, she had always wondered about the references to ones ‘heart’ in regards to personal interaction, thinking it simply another human allegory use to describe the emotional bond of ‘love’. But as she heard those words, she had felt an almost painful reaction in her chest. It was as though a thin, hot blade had been slipped between her ribs and up into her pulmonary muscle where it lodged and refused to budge.

The situation was extremely disconcerting and yet, at the same time, she felt herself yearning to experience it again.

Being held by the Captain had evoked a similar response and she knew that she would have stayed there forever, holding her close, if Janeway would have allowed it.

The most confusing, and intriguing, part of the entire experience had been the realization that all of these sensations were being generated without her consent. It was as though her mind had simply stepped aside to allow emotions she did not even know she possessed to operate independently.

Seven wondered if the Captain had experienced the same emotions and felt a small, unfamiliar tendril of fear twist through her abdomen. She did not want the feelings to stop and did not know how she would react if the Captain did not share them.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Seven stepped onto holodeck two and was immediately confused, wondering if she had somehow entered the wrong program.

There was a long, rectangular pad on the floor in the center of the room and a rack on the wall that held swords of several different shapes and sizes.

“Seven.” She turned to see the Captain standing at the holodeck controls, entering information into the screen. She was wearing a thick, padded vest that looked slightly uncomfortable and hid most of her figure, something the Borg decided she definitely did not appreciate.

“Captain?” She said curiously.

Janeway smiled. “I thought we would take a break from Velocity tonight, Seven. Try something a bit different instead.” Something a little less ‘full contact’. She thought to herself. “I’m going to teach you to fence.”

“Fence?”

“Yes.” The older woman smiled at her. “I take it that fencing is not something stored in your memory?”

Seven tilted her head to one side as she always did when she was thinking. It was just another one of the quirks that Janeway found so adorable. “I do not believe so, Captain. If information on this activity had been assimilated, the Borg must have deemed it irrelevant.”

“Not surprising. It is hardly a technologically advanced sport. Here, put this on.”

Seven took the white vest gingerly, holding it out at arms length. “What is the function of this garment?”

“It’s called a fencing jacket, Seven. It is meant to protect your chest and abdomen from possible injury.”

“Would not the holodeck safeties adequately suffice?”

Janeway swallowed. She should have seen that one coming. She had welcomed the vests as an added barrier between them. “I wanted to share the entire experience with you, Seven.” When the Borg did not seem swayed, she lowered her eyes and looked up at her through her lashes. “Indulge me…please?”

“Of course, Captain.” The younger woman agreed quickly, feeling the look melt through her resistance with ease. “I am afraid I do not know how to utilize this garment however. Can you assist me?”

Janeway stepped forward and held the jacket open so that Seven could slide into it. She realized her mistake almost immediately. The jacket opened from the back and she found herself pressed up against Seven’s chest as she reached around her to fasten it securely.

She took a deep breath and stepped away. “Now grab the croissard and draw it up. It fastens in the back as well.”

“The croissard?”

Janeway pointed to the strip of material that hung down from the front of the vest to just above Seven’s knees. She watched the younger woman struggle with it for several moments.

“I require your assistance, Captain.”

Didn’t quite think this one through as well as you thought you did, huh? Her little voice cackled in glee.

“All right.” The Captain moved around behind her. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and said it. “Spread your legs, Seven.”

She heard a quick intake of breath but the Borg complied, shifting her stance slightly so that Janeway could quickly reach between her thighs and draw the fabric up the where it fastened at the back of her waist.

Seven twisted from side to side, adjusting to the weight of the restrictive material. “Is there other protective equipment involved?”

Janeway laughed at her lack of enthusiasm. “Usually, yes. Traditionally you would also wear a plastron to protect your sword arm, and a mask, but I think we can forego those for this lesson. As you said, the holodeck safeties are on and I want you to be able to see what I am trying to teach you.”

She walked over to the rack against the wall. “There are three types of swords in fencing, the foil, the epee, and the sabre. Tonight, we are going to work with the foil. It’s a light thrusting weapon and its use restricts the strike zone to the torso exclusively.”

“You intend to strike me?” Seven looked baffled. “With that? Would a phaser not be more efficient?”

Janeway sighed. “The point of fencing is not efficiency, Seven. Fencing is about reading your opponent, anticipating their movements, maneuvering, accelerating, decelerating, changing directions and so on. Fencing is about confidence and grace. It was a required study course at the Academy as it teaches not only control, but dexterity and coordination. It’s almost like… dancing.”

“But with weapons?” Seven deadpanned and was gratified when the captain laughed out loud.

“Something like that.” She said dryly. “As unlikely as it may seem, fencing takes a great deal of endurance and patience.”

“Very well.” A small furrow appeared between her eyebrows and Janeway swallowed a smile. It was the same look she got whenever she was concentrating very hard on something. “Begin the lesson.”

The Captain’s mouth quirked into a grin. “Yes, ma’am!” She handed Seven the foil, turning her fingers until she had the proper grip before leading her over to the mat. “Ok, now let’s work on your stance. Turn to left, place your left leg behind you with the toe pointed out, place your right leg in front of you and then turn your torso to the right.”

She watched Seven silently for several minutes, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at the Borg’s attempt to follow all of her conflicting directions. She finally relented when she saw the younger woman was becoming frustrated.

“Ok, let’s try something different. Watch me.” She struck the stance perfectly, her left arm slightly elevated as she held the foil before her. “Now you do it.”

Seven tried, she honestly did, but she just couldn’t seem to fold her long body into the same position. Sighing, she looked down. “I am sorry, Captain. I have failed. Apparently the Borg do not bend.”

“You haven’t failed, Seven. You just need to try again. Here,” She took a deep breath and resumed her position behind the younger woman. Trying hard to focus on what she was supposed to be doing, she moved closer until their bodies were a hairsbreadth apart. Reaching around, she laid her palm on Seven’s thigh, using her own leg to frame the stance from behind. After she had their legs placed correctly, she laid one hand on Seven’s stomach and the other on her right shoulder, using gentle pressure and her own torso to turn her until she was facing her imaginary opponent correctly.

Seven was in heaven. The Captain’s entire body was pressed up against her from behind and, more than that, she could feel the older woman’s heart thumping painfully in her chest, could feel her erratic breaths as they caressed the back of her neck. No matter what Janeway might say to her in the future, she knew what her body was telling her right now.

“Ok,” Janeway said softly. “As I said before, the foil is a thrusting weapon. The most common move is called the lunge. You lean forward, in a rocking motion, bending your forward knee so that your thigh is parallel with the ground. At the same time you extend your arm…” She ran her hand down the length of Seven’s bare arm, swallowing hard at the goosebumps her fingers left in their wake. Slowly, with her other hand still on the Borg’s stomach, she rocked them forward and back. “Tighten your stomach.” Not that it could be much tighter! “Now thrust out with your sword.”

Seven did as she was told, gratified when the Captain mumbled praises into her ear. She looked back over her shoulder and her heart stopped beating. The older woman’s eyes were closed and she had her face buried in the hair that had come loose from Seven’s bun as they practiced. There was small, soft smile on her face and the Borg felt as though her heart would break just looking at her.

Janeway loved the scent of Seven’s hair. It smelled vaguely of fresh water with just a touch of… rose petals? Inhaling deeply, she also caught the scent of the Borg’s skin and thought that if she leaned forward just slightly, she would be able to taste it against her lips. Realizing what she was doing, her eyes flew open and she found herself staring directly into twin pools of azure that seemed to sparkle with humor and…desire? Blushing furiously, she released the younger woman and stepped back, composing herself.

“When we engage, the objective is to strike the torso. If you are not advancing, then your objective is to stop, or parry, the attack of your opponent. The foil is not a slashing blade. You can ‘flick’ with a circular motion to keep your partner’s blade off target. You may also ‘beat’ with your blade, meaning a sharp blow to the center of the other foil to create an opening.” Janeway demonstrated each move as she described them. “You may also ‘feint’, which is a false attack meant to cause your opponent to parry before you actually try to land a blow, thereby possibly causing a weakness in their defense. Do you think you’re ready to try a few simple steps?”

“Of course, Captain.”

“All right.” She threw an evil grin at the younger woman and struck her stance. “Let’s see how well you dance. En garde.”

“Captain?”

“It means, ‘get ready’.&rd