This is the 7th in the Just Between series. It was written and posted prior to the beginning of the fifth season, around the last half of September, 1998.

To my beta readers who helped me with this prior to posting, my eternal appreciation.

This was originally called Just Between Then & Now. This title is more appropriate.

Just Between Realities

G. L. Dartt

Captain Kathryn Janeway of the starship Voyager sat quietly in sickbay, determined not to fidget as she glanced through the windows of the office to the fluctuation of opaque force shields surrounding the bio-bed where the Doctor was examining one of her crewmembers. It was not standard procedure for the captain to stand by as one of her crewmembers underwent a medical examination but then, this person was far from being just a mere crewmember to her.

Annika Hansen had been six years old when she was assimilated by the Borg, and spent eighteen years in the Collective as a drone, designated as Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct to the Unimatrix 01. Voyager’s captain was not sure exactly what that title had meant other than the fact that Seven was the drone assigned to work with her when she had been forced to temporarily ally herself with the Federation’s greatest enemy. A wild series of events had culminated with the ship being flung out of Borg space, leaving Seven of Nine severed from the Collective, and abruptly part of Janeway’s crew.

Seven’s adaptation to joining Voyager had been fraught with complications, not the least of which was her and the captain falling in love. Recently, the Collective had come looking for their missing drone, and though Janeway had managed to sever Seven from the Borg yet again, both women were still feeling the repercussions of it. Seven’s physical return to Humanity had been set back tremendously, and she had spent the last month wearing a silvery, skintight biosuit which could not be removed while her body healed from the many surgeries required to detach various metallic implants from her systems.

The force shields suddenly flickered and went down, revealing a tall, slender woman with narrow features and blonde hair done up in an austere bun. She still sported gray metallic devices around her left eye and on her right cheek, as well as a fibrous mesh covering her left hand. A silver biosuit hugged Seven of Nine’s well proportioned body, tracing the abdominal ridging which bracketed her torso like an old style corset. Janeway tried to get a sense of what was going on from the Borg’s expression as the Doctor and Seven joined her in the office, but the young woman’s ice blue eyes gave no indication what to expect as she sat down in the chair next to the captain.

The sparse, trim figure of the Doctor, dressed in the blue and black uniform of Starfleet Medical made himself comfortable in the chair behind the large desk. It was a rather unnecessary conceit since he was actually an Emergency Medical Hologram who had little need of comfort. Still, his program had been in almost constant activation since being lost in the Delta Quadrant, and as a result, he had achieved a certain sort of sentience which displayed itself in a multitude of ways.

“I have some good news, and I have some bad news,” he told the captain with a thin smile.

She dipped her head in acknowledgment. “Go ahead,” she prompted.

“Seven’s physical regeneration is progressing at a considerably accelerated rate compared to the last time,” he explained. “As a result, I have to remove her abdominal implant much sooner than anticipated.”

Janeway nodded. “And the bad news?”

“That was the ‘bad news’,” Seven said, nudging her with an elbow.

Startled, Janeway looked at her partner, frowning. “What do you mean?”

The Doctor took a deep breath, though of course, that was pure dramatics on his part. He did not need to breathe, after all. “Seven’s body has undergone severe trauma by being assimilated a second time. She simply can’t afford to ever be assimilated again,” he warned. “Unfortunately, she’s not where she should be for me to be removing the implant so soon, but the fact is, the implant is already starting to be rejected. You know as well as I do, how difficult the last operation was.”

Unconsciously, Janeway reached over to entwine her fingers with Seven’s left hand, though her face remained calm. “How bad is this?”

“I could die,” Seven offered casually. “In fact, the odds are very good that I shall.”

The Doctor looked at the Borg sardonically as Janeway felt all the blood drain from her head. “And people think I have a bad bedside manner,” he accused Seven dryly. He shifted his attention to the captain, raising his brows in alarm as he saw her face. “Captain, are you all right?”

“What are you telling me exactly?” Janeway responded faintly.

The Doctor favored Seven with a reproving look. “Contrary to my patient’s lack of faith in my abilities,” he said acidly to the captain. “I believe I can successfully remove the implant a second time. I won’t lie to you, it’s a serious operation, especially since she has undergone so many intrusive medical procedures recently. However, I have the benefit of having a far more experienced Sek assisting me, and the repetition of it will make for a much quicker operation. In truth, the odds are about the same for Seven as they were the first time. Obviously she survived that quite nicely.”

Janeway glanced at Seven who looked back, raising an eyebrow, looking completely unrepentant for scaring her partner. “What exactly is the good news?”

A small smile touched the full lips of the younger woman. “I can now remove my biometric outfit,” she said with a certain amount of satisfaction. “Particularly when I go to bed.”

Janeway frowned. Though Seven adored making love to the captain, and was not restrained by the biometric outfit in doing so whenever and wherever she had the opportunity, it had truly started to bother Janeway that she could not return such physical affection. After much discussion and a few tears … mostly on Seven’s part … it had been decided that they would remain celibate until Seven could once again be an equal partner in their intimacy. However, sex was the last thing on Janeway’s mind, and she thought it was a little immature of Seven to be more concerned about it than her upcoming surgery.

“How soon can the operation be scheduled?” she asked, looking back to the Doctor.

“Tomorrow morning,” he replied. He looked at Seven. “However, there’s no harm in waiting a few days.”

“Yes,” Seven nodded in agreement. “That would be acceptable.”

“Seven, if the Doctor thinks it would be best to do it tomorrow, then that’s what should be done,” Janeway said firmly before the Doctor could reply.

The blonde woman looked at her oddly. “I wish to spend a few days with you,” she said. “We can–”

“I don’t want to delay this any more than we have to,” Janeway interrupted. “Tomorrow morning, you will undergo the procedure.”

Seven looked stubborn, but she had promised not to argue with the tone Janeway had just interjected into her voice when other crewmembers were in the area, so the younger woman remained quiet. She continued to do so as they left the office and made their way back to their quarters. Janeway eyed her briefly as she crossed the living area, shrugging out of her uniform tunic, and tossing it through the bedroom door where it landed on the bed.

“Are you frightened about tomorrow?” she asked Seven, who busied herself at the replicator.

“No,” Seven said shortly as she materialized several food items.

Janeway raised an eyebrow at the tone. “Are you angry about something?” she asked. She went over and perched on the stool by the counter of Seven’s work space, watching as the Borg prepared dinner with an excessive amount of clanging and banging of the various utensils and containers.

“Yes,” Seven responded, and favored her with a dark look.

“Why?” Janeway asked, frowning faintly. She poured herself a glass of wine from an open bottle which Seven placed on the counter with an audible thud. The captain hoped the sediment at the bottom had not been unduly disturbed.

“Your behavior,” Seven said flatly, and proceeded to chop up the defenseless vegetables with unnecessary vigor.

Janeway paused in raising her wineglass, looking at her partner with astonishment. “My behavior?”

Seven terminated her chopping, and stared balefully at her. “Who are you to decide when I have an operation? It’s my body. I should be the one to decide,” she said furiously.

Janeway blinked, honestly confused. “Seven, you don’t delay something like this.”

“It was my decision,” Seven insisted. “You have no right to treat me like a child.”

The captain took a breath. “I was unaware that was how I was treating you,” she said, schooling her voice to patience. “What specifically are you angry about?”

“You didn’t even listen to what I was saying in the Doctor’s office,” Seven said. “I wished to delay the operation a few days. There was no harm in it and the Doctor and I had already discussed it. Yet, you went ahead and ordered him to perform it anyway, in total disregard of how I felt.”

Janeway set her glass carefully down on the counter. “Annika, you are also a member of my crew,” she said firmly. “In certain situations, I have to do what’s best for you as that crewmember. The sooner you have the operation, the sooner you’ll be in recovery.”

“Or the sooner I’ll be dead,” Seven snapped. “Is that what you want?”

Janeway stared at her, and Seven abruptly looked stricken, as if she couldn’t believe what had just come out of her mouth.

“I think we need a moment here,” Janeway said distantly, having felt the words slam into her like a blow to the very pit of her stomach.

“I agree,” Seven said. She put down her knife and gazed at her hands as if she had never seen them before.

Janeway nodded. She walked away from the counter over to the windows which dominated the living area. Through the transparent aluminum, she could see the stars seeming to streak by as the ship traveled through space, their twinkling light distorted by the warp field surrounding the vessel. In the glassy reflection, she saw Seven move around the counter and come up behind her, though the Borg did not try to touch her.

“I am sorry, Kathryn,” she said softly.

Janeway took a breath. “I accept that,” she said calmly, though she was far from calm inside. “I would like to know what prompted you to say it, however.”

Seven shook her head. “I am angry,” she replied. “It upset me that you were so dominating in the Doctor’s office. You are often domineering, but now it bothers me. However, I know you would never wish me harm. It was wrong for me to say such a thing.”

“I’m not trying to dominate you, Annika,” Janeway said slowly, turning to face her. “That’s not my intention.”

“Yet, you do,” Seven said. “Furthermore, you use your rank to justify it. I am not just your crewmember, I am your partner. I am also an individual, and I must decide what is best for me.”

“Delaying the operation serves no purpose,” Janeway protested weakly.

“When I have the operation is irrelevant,” Seven said with emphasis. “This is about you deciding when I do. It should be me making the decision, or us discussing it and deciding together, not you simply ordering me to undergo it.”

Janeway nodded briefly. “All right,” she said slowly. “I can see where you would interpret what occurred in the Doctor’s office as me being presumptuous, but I thought that’s why you wanted me with you. To help you decide.”

“To help me, yes. To decide for me, no. I wanted you with me for support only,” Seven said. She moved closer until she was a mere handbreadth away, though she still didn’t reach out. “Kathryn, you insist that I should be independent, yet at the same time, you keep insisting that my independence has limits.”

“Independence does have limits,” Janeway said quietly. She could feel the warmth radiating from Seven standing so close, and her expression softened as she looked up into Seven’s serious face. “However, you’re right,” she admitted with difficulty. “Sometimes I try putting limitations on you that I have no right to. Sometimes I also disregard the fact that you’re perfectly capable of making up your own mind, but I never intended to hurt you.”

Seven nodded. “I know,” she said. “I did not mean to hurt you either, by saying what I did. It was unacceptable of me.”

Janeway rested her hands on Seven’s biceps, wrapping her long fingers around the slender muscles. “Sometimes things just get said in the heat of the moment,” she allowed gently. “I am a little worried, however. Do you think you will die, Annika? Are you afraid of that?”

“It is a possibility,” Seven said, reaching up to grip Janeway’s elbows. “I do not think tomorrow will be a good day to die.”

There was something in the cadence of the phrase that tipped Janeway off. “You’ve been speaking with B’Elanna about this, haven’t you?” Janeway asked, trying not to be annoyed.

B’Elanna Torres was Voyager’s chief engineer, a Klingon/Human hybrid whose feisty personality made for an interesting contrast to the cool, restrained Seven. The two young women had become friends after some initial antagonism, and now the engineer was Seven’s closest confidant. B’Elanna was also completely opposite Janeway in demeanor and attitude so sometimes, Seven found herself being pulled in two directions, influenced by two very strong personalities.

“We have been discussing it recently,” Seven admitted. “I do not know if I am ready to go to Sto-Vo-Kor.”

Janeway slid her arms around Seven’s waist even as the younger woman wrapped her up in a warm embrace. “Annika,” she said, looking into the pale eyes intently. “You are not going to die. You didn’t last time, you’re not going to this time.”

“On the contrary,” Seven corrected, frowning briefly. “There was the situation last time when my respiratory and circulatory systems shut down. It is entirely possible I used up all my ‘luck’ then.”

Janeway took a breath, forcing herself to be patient. “Darling, there’s no such thing as luck,” she said. “Just the Doctor’s skill and your strength which are immense. I have complete confidence in both of you. And what makes you think you’ll end up in Sto-Vo-Kor anyway?”

“I could be considered a warrior,” Seven said, vaguely offended.

Janeway smiled. “Yes, you are,” she said. “However, Sto-Vo-Kor is a Klingon belief. You’re not a Klingon.”

“B’Elanna says that doesn’t make any difference,” Seven said. “Sto-Vo-Kor seems a great deal more interesting that the ‘heaven’ ventured by most Human faiths.” She paused, studying the captain intently. “What do you think happens after you die?”

Janeway hesitated. “I’m not sure,” she responded carefully. “I do believe in an afterlife. I remember, during our third year here, I came in contact with an entity that pretended to be the spirit of my father. I knew it wasn’t really him, but not because I thought the essence of my father had stopped existing once he died. However, I have no concrete theory to offer you, darling.” She frowned as she regarded Seven. “You’re not going to die,” she added in an irrefutable tone.

A small smile quirked Seven’s lips. “Is that an order, Captain?” she asked.

“Yes, it is,” Janeway stated firmly. She hugged her fiercely. “I don’t know why you’re so occupied with dying, Annika, but I really want you to stop and concentrate on living instead. On getting through your operation and being back at my side as soon as possible. All right?”

“Very well,” Seven said. She kissed the top of Janeway’s head. “Will you stop making all my decisions for me?”

Janeway sighed. “I promise to try,” she allowed.

It was the third day of Seven’s recovery. Like the previous surgery, there had been a few dicey moments, but she came through it fine, and her experience in recovery the last time had granted her a new patience while being immobilized. Unfortunately, Voyager’s crew had become entangled with some passing aliens, an encounter which provided some dicey moments of its own, completely occupying Captain Janeway’s attention and keeping her from sickbay. Seven merely sighed and forced herself to adapt, filling the time by working on her slipstream project.

Seven wondered if this was what becoming mature was all about. The last time she had been incapacitated in this fashion, she had felt lost and alone, even when Janeway had been in sickbay with her, afraid of how she would look, and what the results would be. Now, if Kathryn didn’t have a chance to visit, Seven was still secure in her love, knowing that Janeway was thinking of her, and calling her on her comm badge whenever the captain had a spare moment. Seven did worry briefly about Janeway’s safety, but she had received Tuvok’s personal assurance he would keep a special eye on her during this time. Seven had complete confidence in his abilities, as well as knowing Janeway’s unique talent for coming out on top no matter what, so the Borg found it easier not to be concerned. After all, Janeway had stared down the Borg Collective itself. A few aliens trying to board their vessel and cause havoc was hardly anything to get excited about.

Seven regarded her reflection in the mirror. Her new outfit was blue with gray sleeves, in shades that reminded her remarkably of her partner’s marvelous eyes. It fell sleek and trim over her newly regenerated torso, pressing tight over nerve endings that literally sang with sensitivity. She rotated, peering over her shoulder to see as much of the back as she could before once more facing the glass.

“I trust it is to your satisfaction,” the Doctor remarked as he watched her preen in front of the mirror.

“Yes, it is acceptable,” Seven said, nodding. “I especially like the color. It is the exact shade of Kathryn’s eyes when she is most happy.”

Behind her, thinking himself unseen but clearly visible in the reflection, he made a face. “That was not exactly what I was intending,” he admitted dryly.

“Nonetheless,” Seven responded, amused. “That is why I most appreciate it.”

“Well, as long as you like it,” he said, dismissing the whole thing with a wave of his hand. “You still have the brown one as well, just for variety.”

She turned and faced him squarely, the gray implant which framed her left eye glinting metallically in the fluorescent lights of sickbay. “Thank you, Doctor,” she said.

“Just try not to get assimilated anymore,” he grumped, arms crossed over his chest. “I spend hours removing those implants and you promptly accumulate more. It’s becoming tedious.”

“I shall endeavor to avoid it in the future,” she responded seriously.

Picking up the padds where she had recorded most of her work, she left sickbay and headed for the astrometrics lab. It was 1400 hours and the alpha shift had not yet ended. Janeway, according to the computer, was still on the bridge negotiating with the local inhabitants of the system to return their people to them. Criminals that the system did not really want but nonetheless, would end up acquiring because Seven knew Kathryn certainly didn’t want them either.

She finished out the shift and returned to her quarters where she found Janeway stretched out on the couch, arms crossed over her eyes. Immediately concerned, she crossed the room and knelt beside the reclined woman.

“Kathryn?” she asked, suddenly uncertain. Perhaps all her confidence in Janeway’s indestructibility had been misguided after all.

“Annika?” Janeway seemed dazed as she sat up. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in sickbay.”

“I completed my recovery a few hours ago,” Seven said, sitting on the couch beside her and gathering her up in her arms. “What is wrong?”

Janeway groaned and closed her eyes, leaning against Seven tiredly. “I must have lost track of the days,” she said. “I thought this was only the second day since your operation. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I was planning to go and see you, but I thought I’d take a moment to lie down.”

“It is acceptable,” Seven said soothingly, rubbing her back gently. She knew Janeway’s ‘moments’ when she hadn’t been sleeping. “I know that you have been busy with the Nillerha. Did they accept the transfer of their prisoners?”

“Mmmm,” the captain replied drowsily. “They didn’t want them, but I finally made them take them.”

As if there had been any doubt, Seven noted.

“When did you last sleep?” she asked.

“Not counting five minutes ago? When did I see you last?”

Seven stifled a sound of exasperation. That had been the morning of the operation, four days earlier. “Kathryn, you must look after yourself when I cannot,” she said firmly. “When did you last eat?”

“What day is it again?”

“This is not amusing,” Seven said with annoyance, hearing the smile in the captain’s voice.

“Well, I guess I’m not as good at looking after me as you are,” Janeway remarked, snuggling closer to Seven. Her hands were busy probing the Borg’s torso through the outfit, apparently to see if the implant was indeed gone. “How are you feeling?”

“I am fine,” Seven said. “However, you are tired. I am taking you to bed.”

“Wonderful, I thought you’d never ask,” Janeway mumbled.

Seven knew the captain didn’t quite know what she was doing or saying, so she ignored the hands roaming over her body as she picked Janeway up, and carried her into the bedroom. Once there, she dumped her on the bed, and began to strip off the wrinkled and somewhat dusty uniform.

What had the captain been doing? Seven wondered as she tossed the garment aside. Janeway obligingly crawled under the covers, then reached out for Seven.

“Come to bed,” Janeway demanded with only the slightest crack of command in her tone. Seven saw fit to ignore it.

“I am not tired,” she responded reasonably.

“Neither am I,” Janeway replied, before falling asleep in mid-leer.

Seven smiled and pulled the blankets up over her partner, pausing to regard her fondly for a few moments. Then she kissed the captain gently on the temple before returning to the living room and her desk where she brought up her slipstream project. As she set to work, she analyzed the past hour and her interaction with the captain. Just when she had despaired of Janeway ever accepting her as a completely equal partner, she found herself taking care of her as if she were a child. Seven came to the conclusion that perhaps relationships were not always equal. That sometimes one partner played the dominant role at different times. It was quite a revelation and she made a mental note to discuss it both with Kathryn when she woke, and with B’Elanna the next time she saw her.

While Janeway seemed to be dominant most of the time, Seven allowed that there were a great many situations when the captain acceded to her wishes. She realized the argument they had indulged in the night before her operation might have been somewhat selfish on her part. Perhaps she had just been a little frightened at the thought of the operation after all, and had taken it out on Kathryn. It was unfair, but not without precedent. She knew there were times when she and Kathryn argued, when what they were fighting about was not the actual issue. It was just hard to figure out what the issue was sometimes when emotion took over, and did not allow for proper analytical assessment.

She added a few more quads of data to her console, and regarded the result with satisfaction. They could begin working on the shuttle now, adapting it to the slipstream technology she had assimilated during her time as One of Many. Once the shuttle had made a successful transition, proving that the drive could be coupled with Starfleet technology, and hull integrity would still be maintained, then they could begin work on Voyager herself.

Then they would be home.

Seven paused as that thought crossed her mind. Home. She tasted it silently, looked at the word, the concept, from all angles with inward eyes. Once she had been in the Alpha Quadrant, meeting both her own distant relatives, and Kathryn’s family before returning to the Delta Quadrant. It had been a unique experience and where before, Seven had been completely ambivalent about returning to the Alpha Quadrant, now she was as anxious as any of Voyager’s crew to return. Her recent assimilation had given her the key to making it happen and she tried to imagine how it would be to finally return to the Federation.

She wondered what would happen to her once they did. She knew that she would do everything in her power to stay with Kathryn, but she contemplated where and how they would live. Would Kathryn remain with Voyager or would she have a different ship? Would Seven be allowed to accompany her on such or would she be required to go through the Academy and join Starfleet? Would they stay with Gretchen, Kathryn’s mother, when they first returned or would they make their own living quarters elsewhere? What of their status as a couple? Would they be officially married by then or would they wait until their families could attend the wedding? What of children?

So many questions, with no real way to answer them until they actually returned. Seven realized that she had never speculated when she was with the Collective, never wondered what might be. This was a particularly Human quality, and she decided she liked it. It made her feel happy inside, though she readily understood that speculating on negative outcomes, could make her correspondingly unhappy. It amazed her that she could experience emotions based on what might happen as easily as what actually did happen.

She shut down her board and went into the bedroom, entering the ensuite in order to prepare for bed. Janeway had not commented on her new outfit, but then, Seven suspected that her partner hadn’t really noticed it, so she swallowed her disappointment and recycled the suit for the next morning. She paused a moment before the large mirror overlooking the sink to study her renewed form, regarding the flat, muscled stomach and navel with a keen objectivity, deciding that the Doctor had done an equally efficient job this time. She rotated, trying to see as much of her back as possible, remembering what had happened the last time it had been removed, of having Kathryn present as her newly regenerated flesh was revealed to her, tingling pleasantly inside as she did so. It really was a shame that Kathryn had been so exhausted this day; Seven’s nerve endings were crying out to be stimulated, and she had to take a moment to control herself, channeling her desire into patience before going out into the other room and crawling into bed next to her partner.

The captain stirred, muttered something and rolled over, sprawling over Seven’s chest in sybaritic pleasure, resting her leg heavily on the young woman’s thighs, snuggling her head comfortably into the nook of the Borg’s shoulder. Seven was amused, fully aware that it had been completely unconscious on Janeway’s part, the smaller woman possessive of her physically, even in her sleep. She remembered Kathryn telling her once that until Seven, the captain had always experienced difficulty sleeping with another person, preferring to keep the other body at arm’s length.

Seven suspected that was a fallacy, because from the first night they had been together, Janeway always ended up so closely entangled with her it was hard to tell where she left off and the captain began. It was fortunate Seven did not experience any sort of phobias about being trapped, because frequently Janeway’s arms about her neck were of sufficient tightness as to be slightly choking.

Yet Seven loved every nano-second of it. Smiling gently, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift off to sleep, cradling her lover with quiet joy.

Janeway woke briefly in the night, submerged in wonderful warmth, surrounded by loving arms and a soft, yielding body beneath hers. Without opening her eyes, she snuggled closer and took a deep breath, secure in the knowledge that her lover was right there, perfectly safe, the steady heartbeat throbbing beneath her cheek, the quiet respiration making her head rise and fall in a regular rhythm. She sighed happily, and immediately drifted back to sleep.

When she woke again, the illumination for morning watch was up and Seven was gone, though Janeway could hear her moving about in the outer living quarters, the familiar sounds of home soothing, comforting. With a faint smile, the captain shifted position, wrapping her arms around Seven’s pillow so that she could breath in the faint scent of her partner, content in the knowledge that neither of them would be expected on duty, and even if she was needed, her comm badge was only a few feet away. She did not quite know how she had got to bed the night before … the last thing she remembered was laying on the couch talking with Seven who was out of sickbay … but it didn’t really matter as she snuggled into the warm cocoon of blankets. Once again, she dozed off.

An unspecified period of time later, she lay suspended between dreams and reality, of soft desire and the acute need to wake, to feel the full sensation that was beckoning so irresistibly. Making a sound in her throat, she forced herself up through the cottony fog surrounding her to the heat of a body pressing lightly down on her, of the mouth covering hers, kissing her with focused intent. She made another sound, a pleased moan of pleasure and arousal as she identified Annika’s form on her, the arms that cradled her shoulders, fingers in her hair, the sweet taste of her partner filling her.

She wrapped her arms around the warm torso, responding to the kiss with keen desire, feeling the tongue explore her mouth, dancing along her teeth, entwining hotly with her own. She arched up against the warm body, sliding sensuously against flesh free of implants, of warm, silky skin that was so incredibly smooth. Her small breasts flattened beneath the more generous figure of her lover, the delicate tickle of Seven’s newly restored belly pushing against hers, the crinkly thatch of hair tugging at her own as their bodies moved together, gently, slowly. Her legs parted of their own accord, accepting the strong, lanky leg that pressed between them, and she felt a sudden chill of pleasure shiver through her as her vulnerable wetness skidded recklessly along the line of muscle, the sensitive bundle of nerve endings dragged deliciously against the warm thigh.

All in all, it was positively the best way to wake up Janeway had ever known.

The tender lips moved away briefly, and Janeway’s head fell back, eyes still closed as her mouth parted to draw breath, inhaling deeply as she felt the lips trace her jawline, moving over her ear, the bright edge of teeth closing gently over the lobe.

“Annika.” She breathed the name into the thick mane of blonde hair covering her face, trailing over her, filling her with its fragrance as she nuzzled into its warmth and softness. “Oh, my darling Annika. I’ve missed you so much.”

“Kathryn,” came the quiet response in her ear, the love lacing the word with such intensity that it curled around Janeway’s senses, taking her breath away.

Janeway ran her hands down the silken back which rippled with finely defined musculature as Seven moved over her, the younger woman loving her completely with her hands, with her mouth, with her entire body. Hard nipples covered with velvet prodded Kathryn, the strong line of Seven’s thigh pressing firmly against the captain’s center which responded with a flood of moisture, and Janeway found herself undulating without conscious volition, moving against the maddening pressure which made her stomach contract, made her want to cry out from the sensation that filled her, overpowered her…

“Bridge to Janeway.”

“No, oh no,” Janeway moaned. “No, no, no, no, no….”

“Bridge to the Captain.”

“Oh god.”

Janeway felt very much like weeping as the wonderful body eased off her, coming to rest against her side as she blindly reached out to her right, groping for the comm badge, finally finding it on the night stand. She had to strongly resist the urge to fling it against the nearest bulkhead just so she could see it shatter into a million pieces.

“Janeway here,” she said, in a voice that could slice duranium.

“Captain, long range sensors are detecting an anomaly,” Chakotay’s voice said without mercy. “I really think you should come up and take a look at it.” There was a hesitation, a regretful pause. It was doubtful Voyager’s first officer knew what was happening, but he could probably tell from her tone that she was not happy at being disturbed. “Sorry, Captain.”

“Understood,” Janeway said evenly. “I’m on my way.”

She cut the signal and took a second to lay back against the sheets, trying to compose herself. Beside her, she was aware of Seven taking one deep breath after another, attempting to bring her own desire down to manageable levels.

“Damn,” Janeway said with heartfelt despair. She turned to Seven’s head resting on the pillow beside hers, bringing her hand up to rest her knuckles against the warm cheek. “I’m sorry, darling,” she whispered.

“I too, am very sorry,” Seven responded sincerely.

Groaning, Janeway rolled out of bed, and staggered a bit as she stood up too quickly. She cast a glance backwards at the Borg still on the bed, Seven’s light coloring making her a blonde and silver streak against the deep blue of the Starfleet issued sheets. The young woman was achingly beautiful, hair flowing wild about her features soft with arousal, the wide eyes a dark sapphire into which Janeway wanted to plunge and never emerge. The generous breasts were heavy and full, the pink-shaded nipples taut with readiness, the sleek line of Seven’s newly formed belly flexing as she shifted, the blonde triangle tangled, moist at the apex of the long legs that seemed to run on forever.

Janeway wanted to scream with sheer frustration as she was forced to turn away, and stumble into the bathroom. Angrily she programmed the shower, setting it to iceburst to drive away the heat suffusing her body, attempting to clear her mind by putting her head directly under the driving spray. She supposed that she should be grateful that this was the first time the couple had ever been interrupted this way in all the time they had been together, but it was a cold consolation to assume that the law of averages had finally caught up with them.

She stepped from the shower, shivering as she blinked water drops from her eyes, finding Seven waiting for her with a warmed bath sheet which she promptly wrapped around the captain. Over Seven’s shoulder, Janeway could see a freshly replicated uniform sitting neatly folded on the sink counter, the pips and comm badge already attached.

“Damn, damn, damn,” she mumbled as she dried herself off quickly, and began to pull on her uniform. “This had better be a really impressive anomaly.”

“It must be unusual, or they would not have contacted you during your off shift,” Seven noted as she made a quick pass through the sonic setting which was much quicker than the hydro setting.

Janeway always chose the hydro because the vibration of the sonic waves which shook off dirt tended to set her teeth on edge and give her a headache. Right now, her crew could not afford to get her with a headache on top of everything else she was feeling. It was bad enough that she was already chewing nails and spitting out tacks.

“Well, we’ll know soon enough,” Janeway said shortly, running a brush impatiently through her hair as Seven drew on her skintight suit.

The captain did notice that the outfit was different than any other she had seen Seven wear, a blue and grey material that did wonders for the younger woman’s pale eyes. “I like that,” Janeway added off-handedly as they strode rapidly for the turbolift. The dazzling smile that rewarded that comment was far out of proportion to the compliment and despite herself, Janeway felt marginally better about things as the lift doors slid shut on them. “Is it new?”

“Yes,” Seven responded in a happy tone. “I chose the colors myself.”

“You like blue and grey?” Janeway asked curiously.

“They are my favorite combination of shades,” Seven said warmly.

Seven’s eyes pinned hers, raising an eyebrow significantly, and Janeway blushed as she realized what Seven was referring to. “I’m glad,” the captain said, feeling absurdly pleased and flattered.

Seven opened her mouth to respond when the two of them were suddenly thrown into the walls of the turbolift, impacting into the walls with solid thuds which were muted by the awful sound of tearing metal as the ship shook around them. They fell to the floor in a tangle, tossed helplessly from side to side, and there was a terrifying drop as gravity disappeared, the lift plunging a deck or two before the emergency braking system brought it to a screeching halt.

Then everything was still, which was even more ominous because even the normal sounds of the ship’s engines and air circulation were absent, indicating a complete loss of power. Dazedly, Janeway eased away from Seven who was stirring under her, having shielded her from the worst of the impacts.

“Seven, are you all right?” she asked anxiously.

“I am functioning,” Seven responded evenly. Which meant she was pretty shaken up since she tended to fall back on her Borg-influenced sayings when her own vocabulary, which was quite extensive by now, totally failed to offer words to explain how she was really feeling. “There is no illumination.”

“No,” Janeway replied worriedly. Even the emergency lights had not come on, and there was a shudder around them as the turbolift slid down a little, the sound of stressed metal raising the hair on the back of her neck. She slapped her comm badge. “Janeway to bridge. Report.” She wasn’t really surprised at the silence that answered her, but still felt a stab of disappointment. Whatever had happened had impacted catastrophically on the ship’s systems. Communications was one of the more sensitive areas and easily disrupted. “Anyone, report. This is the Captain.”

Another pause as she peered fruitlessly through blackness darker than anything that she had ever experienced. Her eyes ached from staring so hard, and when the emergency lights finally did activate, they were almost blinding in their fretful, dim flickering. She blinked hard against the tears that sprang to her eyes, and tried her comm badge again. Still no response and she sought out Seven who was regarding her alertly.

There was another lurch, and the turbolift dropped another few inches.

“I believe it would be advisable to vacate this lift,” Seven remarked calmly.

“I think you’re right,” the captain responded readily.

Whatever happened to the rest of her ship would have to wait until she got herself safe.

If she could.

Seven stood up carefully, legs spread to maintain her balance. When the lift, did not move, the captain also ventured to stand, using the tall blonde as a brace to pull herself up with. Seven bent over slightly, cupping her hands, and Janeway stepped into the support offered, easily being raised to the ceiling by Borg-enhanced strength, which also steadied the captain as she pried open the seal at the top of the compartment.

“Okay, it’s open,” Janeway said, and Seven carefully lifted the captain up through the open hatch.

The turbolift shook as Janeway crawled across its roof and Seven winced, but the lift did not drop any further. She peered uncertainly into the dark shadows over her, but could see nothing.

“All right, I’m clear,” Janeway’s voice drifted down to the Borg, and Seven crouched, then leaped for the opening above her.

The strength of the leap was sufficient to propel her halfway through the hatch, and she searched quickly for a hold on the roof before she slipped back. She managed to scramble the rest of the way, the car shifting unsteadily beneath her, and she reached out for the access ladder just as the footing dropped out from under her entirely. For a few apprehensive seconds, she was suspended only by her fingers wrapped around a single rung, but then her feet found purchase on a lower one, and she glanced down in time to see flame billow up as the turbolift smashed into the bottom of the shaft. Fortunately the flame petered out before reaching the two Voyager crewmembers clinging to the access ladder, though they were buffeted by a blast of hot, choking air.

“Are you alright?” Janeway asked anxiously from above.

Seven raised her head, barely able to discern the pale circle that was the captain’s face several rungs above her. “Yes,” she replied. “Now what?”

Janeway started to climb. “This leads all the way to the bridge,” she said. “That’s where we should start.”

Seven judged that they had about seven decks to go, and she sighed silently as she followed in the captain’s wake.

“Do you have any ideas about what might have happened?” Janeway asked in a frustrated tone as they climbed.

“Several possibilities come to mind,” Seven responded. “Without further data, however, any one of them could be plausible. Would you like me to list them?”

“How many are there?” Janeway asked cautiously.

“One hundred, thirty-seven,” Seven replied. “There are also nine-hundred and fifty-three less plausible but equally possible scenarios.”

“Let’s just save our breath for now,” Janeway suggested gently.

Seven raised an eyebrow and continued to climb. When Janeway stopped, she did as well, head back as she tried to see what was going on above her. She could hear Janeway’s breathing deepen as she worked at the panel next to her, and then a soft grunt as the captain strained at the doors.

“Do you require assistance?” Seven asked politely.

“Can you get up here?” Janeway responded.

“I will try,” Seven said, and climbed up until she was behind Janeway, reaching around her to grasp the ladder. Her feet were one rung below the captain’s while her head was at the same level, and she noted their difference in height idly.

“The manual override isn’t responding,” Janeway explained over her shoulder as Seven pressed against her back. “I can’t get enough leverage to force the door.”

“Perhaps my implant will work,” Seven said and wrapped her right arm tightly about the ladder as she reached out with her left.

She forced her metal covered fingertips into the slight crack and began to exert a steady pressure. As she did, she was suddenly aware of Kathryn’s body against hers, the fragrance of her soft perfume and the arid tang of sweat as the captain contributed her Human strength in helping to force the door. She did not know how she could be so aroused when the situation hardly lent itself for her to act upon those feelings, but she wondered what Kathryn would do if she leaned forward just a little to kiss her ear.

“Seven, keep your mind on the matter at hand,” Janeway ordered with a touch of annoyance, and Seven was startled to realize she had been nuzzling the mussed, auburn hair.

“Sorry.” Seven apologized though she wasn’t at all, and refocused her attention on the door. With a spurt of energy, the door gave way with an outraged squeal of metal, and gritting her teeth, Seven forced it open the rest of the way.

She took a few deep breaths, resting as Janeway clambered up the remaining rungs and crawled through the opening. Then Seven followed, brushing at her outfit absently as she stood, looking around the bridge. It was empty and dark, a few, isolated lights flickering fitfully here and there on the consoles. She frowned as she looked around at the damaged control center, at the captain’s chair wrenched off its mooring to lay on its side on the deck, at the shattered panels and twisted metal.

“This can’t be right,” Janeway muttered uncertainly. She walked down the stairs and stared around her bridge uncomprehendingly.

Seven raised an eyebrow. There was an air of desolation about the area, and wonderingly she reached out and ran a finger along the tactical console. It came away, thick with dust, which did not make sense at all. Uneasily, she went to the board, touching the pad smeared liberally with dirt, trying to bring up something that would give her some clue as to what was going on.

“It looks as if it’s been abandoned for months,” Janeway said. “Maybe even years.”

“The Stardate is current,” Seven responded evenly, though she was far from calm inside. She raised her eyes to meet Janeway’s, sure that her face was now as pale as her partner’s.

Janeway opened her mouth to respond, hesitated, seemed lost. “I don’t understand,” she said finally.

Seven touched more controls, studying the data she was receiving. She was aware of Janeway crossing the bridge to her, leaning over her shoulder as she worked. “Main computer is not responding,” she told the captain. “There seems to be no higher computer functions at all. Only simple maintenance programs detailing ship’s status.”

“She’s been stripped,” Janeway said after a moment.

“‘Stripped’?”

Janeway took a breath. “It’s almost as if Voyager’s been decommissioned,” she said quietly, almost to herself. “Everything of value is gone, main computer, warp engines, only minimum power to activate emergency lights in the event someone needs to come on board. There’s no life support, though according to this, there should be enough air to last a few more hours.”

“Is this a temporal incursion of some sort?” Seven asked.

Janeway shook her head slightly. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m not sure what is out of synch however; the ship or us.” Her face was serious as she accessed the board herself, elegant fingers pressing through the layer of grime.

Seven left her to it and went over to the operations console which provided little more information than the tactical console had. But by cross-linking the emergency lights, she was able to channel power to the few remaining outer sensors and the viewscreen. It flickered to reveal the stark blackness of space littered with the remains of many vessels drifting abandoned around them. Beyond this ship’s graveyard, the reddish bulk of a planet beckoned. For some reason, this all looked familiar in the way Seven knew was attributed to some memory not of her own, but of the Collective.

Across the bridge, Janeway gasped audibly and Seven looked at her, disturbed at the expression she saw on the captain’s face. “What is it?”

“This is Utopia Planitia Fleet Yards,” Janeway said in an odd tone. “The shipyards orbiting Mars.”

Mars? The fourth planet in Earth’s system? Seven took a breath. “We have returned to the Alpha Quadrant?” she queried with a certain disbelief.

Janeway did not get a chance to respond before the thin whine of transporters heralded the appearance of five figures in Starfleet environmental suits which sported badges indicating they were from Utopia Planitia Control. Phaser rifles were leveled toward them, and Seven noticed with a flicker of amusement that four were aimed at her while only one covered Janeway. Of the two of them, Seven considered the captain to be a far deadlier threat in any set of circumstances.

“Identify yourselves,” the muffled voice came out of the speaker on the front of the space suit of the closest figure.

“I’m Captain Kathryn Janeway of the USS Voyager,” Janeway responded promptly, raising her hands so that they could see she was unarmed. “This is my astrometrics officer, Seven of Nine.”

“She’s reading as having Borg technology,” muttered a feminine voice from one of the other figures, tricorder held high in Seven’s direction.

“Never saw any Borg that looked like that,” a third voice countered with an appreciative leer in his tone.

“Pipe down,” ordered the first voice, clearly the group’s leader. He had to turn his whole body to face Janeway. “Perhaps you’d care to explain what you’re doing here, Captain?” His tone indicated he hadn’t believed a word she had said.

From Kathryn’s expression, the way the muscle jumped slightly in her jaw, Seven knew that Janeway was not surprised by his disbelief, though still slightly annoyed by his manner. She remained silent, content to take her lead from her captain.

“Can you tell me when this ship was decommissioned?” Janeway asked.

“A year or so ago,” someone responded to the tone of command before the leader could stop them.

Janeway took a deep breath. “Is this Stardate current?” she requested, gesturing at the board.

The leader nodded. “It’s correct,” he said. He looked at her. “Forgive me, but this ship returned from the Delta Quadrant a year and a half ago. From what I can remember, the captain of it was promoted to commodore and is supposed to be assigned to the Starfleet Olympia Complex the last I heard. Are you sure you want to stick to this story?”

Janeway hesitated. “Perhaps you should take us to your superiors,” she suggested.

“That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said,” the leader said.

Seven was watched warily as she walked around the console to take up a position at Janeway’s side, but she ignored them, focusing her attention on the captain. Janeway gave her a tight nod, reassuring her that she had everything under control, though Seven could in no way figure out how her partner was managing that.

Sparkles filled her eyes as the discarded remains of Voyager’s bridge disappeared and a transporter beam whisked her away.

Captain Kathryn Janeway paced restlessly about the room where she and Seven were being held. It was comfortable, as these rooms went, with a couple of bunks, a large sofa, chairs, a table, computer consoles with limited access, and a replicator for anything they might need to eat. Yet, it was still a prison and Janeway did not react well to being confined. They had been taken to a base on Mars, a Starfleet compound distant from the rest of the planetary settlements, a scientific facility which was clearly restricted with a multitude of security protocols.

Seven sat quietly on the sofa, watching her pace. “Do you think Commander Fulton believed us?” she asked.

“Not any more than the previous four people we’ve told this story to,” Janeway responded dryly. “But we do seem to be working our way up the chain of command. We should be getting a captain next. Or at least, the commander of the base himself.”

“Is that good?” Seven asked.

Janeway managed a half-grin. “Well, they haven’t sedated us and handed us over to the Starfleet Psyche ward.” She stopped and looked down at Seven, her hands on her hips. “They might think I’m crazy, but the DNA does identify me as Kathryn Janeway, and you’re definitely Borg. I’m pretty sure they don’t know what to do at this point.”

Seven looked thoughtful. “How is it possible that Voyager returned a year ago, yet the Stardate is still the same?”

Janeway took a breath. “I don’t think this is a temporal situation, Seven,” she replied. “I think we’ve fallen into some sort of alternate reality. There is precedent for this. Starfleet records show at least one known alternate reality where the Federation fell to an alliance of Klingons and Cardassians.”

“The ‘mirror’ universe,” Seven identified. “I have read of that. Humans had an ‘Empire’ rather than a Federation.”

Janeway nodded. “That’s correct. In our second year, we also ran across a parallel dimension, but this isn’t it. In that one, Voyager was destroyed so that ours would survive,” she said. “I’m not sure where we might be. The only difference we’ve come across so far is that I somehow got Voyager back home more than a year ago. I wish I knew how.”

“We found a wormhole.”

Neither Janeway nor Seven had heard the door open, and they both started abruptly, turning toward the entrance. Seven rose to her feet before freezing in disbelief, and Janeway thought she should feel a lot more unnerved than this, more disturbed at the sight of the auburn-haired woman standing in the doorway, flanked by the smaller, blond figure of a woman that the captain recognized as Admiral Alynna Necheyev.

“Captain?”

Seven was stunned, gaping unabashedly at the compact figure dressed in the black and grey of Starfleet, the insignia of a commodore at her collar. Janeway was more composed as she stared, not in astonishment at the similarities, but rather avidly picking out the differences between them. In addition to the uniform and rank, the newcomer’s hair was long, and swept up in a bun instead of Janeway’s current short cut. There was also a gold band around the ring finger of the left hand with the accompanying diamond, and an oddly strained look cast shadows on the high-boned features which mirrored her own.

The commodore was returning the scrutiny with equal keenness, sweeping her up and down with a measuring glance that seemed to take her apart. Janeway had never been on the receiving end of her ‘Look’ before and it both startled and amused her.

Honestly, she thought, it isn’t any wonder people squirm under my attention. It’s just like Daddy’s look. It makes people feel like they’re three years old. Of her crew, only Seven had ever defied that gaze with any sort of regularity.

However, Kathryn Janeway was hardly the sort to be intimidated, and she found she was straightening, squaring her shoulders under her old style uniform and returning the ‘Look’ eyeball for eyeball.

“Well, I must say, she certainly has your attitude, Kathryn,” Admiral Necheyev said with a touch of amusement as she brushed past the commodore to walk around Captain Janeway. “So what do we have here? A temporal incursion?”

“No, this is a matter of alternate realities,” Seven piped up.

Janeway stifled a sigh. She should have asked Seven to remain quiet while she did the talking. Necheyev was immediately drawn to the tall, blonde, raking her with a frown.

“You’re a Borg,” she said and she uttered ‘Borg’ in the same tone as she would say, ‘Denebian Slime Devil’.

“I am no longer of the Collective,” Seven responded in a more subdued tone, apparently picking up on the disdain in the voice.

Janeway was immediately at her officer’s side, frowning as she regarded the admiral.

“Seven of Nine became a member of my crew a year and a half ago, and has acted as my astrometrics officer with extreme competence,” Janeway said coldly. “She has, on at least three occasions, been directly responsible for saving Voyager and her crew from certain destruction.”

“I’ve never had a Borg on my ship,” the commodore interjected.

“That was your loss,” Janeway said tartly.

Necheyev raised her hands. “Let’s not get bogged down here,” she said, eyeing the two redheads with a certain amount of wariness. She dipped her head briefly at Janeway. “I meant no disrespect. We are aware that the genetic code does show that you match exactly with our Commodore Kathryn Johnson. As for the B—…your officer, she matches a civilian scientist named Annika Hansen who’s here on our base.”

Janeway’s eyebrow arched. Well, now she had two more pieces of information on the differences between the universes; the knowledge that Seven’s counterpart existed as well, and where the wedding ring came from. Apparently in this reality, ‘Janeway’ had married Mark Johnson, her childhood friend, and the man she had been engaged to prior to being lost in the Delta Quadrant.

Janeway shot a glance at her partner who seemed very young at that moment, eyes wide as she looked back at Janeway, clearly uncertain. The captain wanted to reach out to her and hug her reassuringly, but this was not the time. If she remembered correctly, Necheyev had an almost rabid distaste for the Borg, and it was incumbent on her that she protect Seven as best she could. To do that, she needed to be thinking clearly, not as Seven’s partner, but as her captain.

Commodore Johnson was nodding, her mouth a firm line. “Perhaps if we figure out where we diverged,” she suggested reasonably. “We would have a better idea of what we’re dealing with here.”

“Take a seat,” Janeway commanded, motioning to the table in the corner of the room.

Johnson and Necheyev exchanged looks, clearly hesitant at how Janeway had abruptly taken charge, but they went over and sat down without further discussion. Janeway made sure Seven was seated, taking an instant to squeeze her shoulder comfortingly as she passed behind her, then took a seat herself at what could be considered the head of the table.

“Where do we start?” she asked, looking at the admiral. She did remember the chain of command, even though it had been a while, and she realized suddenly she had been acting a bit presumptuously. She wondered if this was what Seven meant when she complained about her domineering manner. However, it was just her way. After five years of being the sole Starfleet authority within light-years, she couldn’t help it. It just surprised her that her counterpart accepted it so easily.

“Obviously, both Voyagers were lost in the Delta Quadrant,” Necheyev said. “Take it from there.”

Janeway took a breath, and began to recount Voyager’s journey. Every encounter of the first three years she brought up seemed to match with Commodore Johnson’s recollection. Any details that differed could have been a matter of faulty memory or perception … until they came to Borg space.

“Once, I saw the thousands of ships clogging what I originally thought was a clear passageway, I knew I had a difficult choice to make,” Janeway said.

“Yes,” Johnson interjected. “I decided Voyager would back out of Borg space, skirt the area, maintaining our distance and hope that the war would keep the Borg from trying to come after us. It was a hard decision, but one which would allow us to survive.”

“That is not what happened.” Seven spoke for the first time in a long while.

“Going around would have added over a hundred years to the journey,” Janeway said, frowning as she regarded her counterpart. “I wasn’t prepared to give up that easily.”

“We couldn’t very well go through,” Johnson responded, looking at her oddly. “To interfere with a war between the Borg and Species 8472 was a clear violation of the Prime Directive. Going around was the only option.”

“Obviously not, because I went through,” Janeway said, a hint of asperity in her tone.

“How did you manage that?” Johnson said, grey eyes pinning the captain’s.

“I negotiated with the Collective,” Janeway said, a bit proudly. “Free passage through their space and in return, we would assist in defeating Species 8472 which was the greater threat.”

The captain allowed herself an inward grin when she saw the expression on her counterpart’s face. Honestly, was that how she looked when someone shocked her? Something like a fish out of water, she noted, mouth open a little, eyes bulging slightly. Very unattractive.

“You interfered with a war that did not concern you other than being between you and where you wanted to go, allied yourself with the greatest threat the Federation has ever known?” Admiral Necheyev was also astounded but there was more anger in her Slavic features as she glared at the Voyager captain. “How exactly did you help the Borg?”

Janeway hesitated. “The Doctor discovered that by altering Borg nanoprobes, they could affect Species 8472,” she admitted. “Giving us a weapon to use on them.”

Now that it was said so plainly, she got the sense that perhaps it was a little worse than she had allowed herself to believe. At least, it sounded a lot worse. She wondered if it would go over any better in her own reality.

“You gave a weapon of mass destruction to the Borg?” Johnson said in utter disbelief.

Janeway’s eyes narrowed at the tone. “Species 8472 threatened the entire Delta Quadrant,” she said, gently dangerous. “What else could I have done?”

“By skirting Borg space, we came across a wormhole within two months which brought us home,” the commodore said quietly, in an equally deadly voice. “It seems that not only did you shatter the Prime Directive, you cost your crew their best chance at returning home.”

Janeway felt the blood thunder in her ears, and hoped her dismay did not show on her face. However, there was one in the room who knew her too well, and was quick to jump to her defense.

“If the captain had not entered into the agreement with the Collective, Species 8472 would have destroyed the Borg.” Seven said, her words clipped and very precise. “They then would have gone on to exterminate the rest of the Delta Quadrant, as I am sure they are doing in this reality at this very moment. When they have spread to the Alpha Quadrant, as they will, there will be no altered Borg nanoprobes with which to drive them back into their space. You will have no protection against them and nothing to negotiate with. You will all be destroyed.”

Janeway favored her partner with a small smile. Seven was so fierce, her eyes absolutely sparking. The captain had been on the receiving end of that fury a great many times. She found it quite pleasant to have it shielding her now.

There was a pause as the other two regarded Seven in silence, contemplating her with matching airs of astonishment and unease.

“They are that big a threat?” Necheyev said finally.

Seven centered her laser gaze on the admiral. “They were more than capable of destroying the Borg Collective,” she stated flatly. “They are the ultimate in biological evolution. Their very touch is incompatible to organic lifeforms.”

“I’m curious,” Janeway said, remembering what else had been going on then. “What happened to Harry Kim?”

Her query struck hard, she saw. At the time she had made her decision, Harry had been in sickbay, desperately fighting for his life after being clawed by a member of Species 8472, his body being broken down by the aggressive elements of the alien genetic material.

“Ensign Kim died four days after he was attacked,” Johnson said bleakly.

Janeway felt herself mirror the loss, knowing the despair that would have arisen if the Doctor had not been able to devise a cure for Harry in time. Then, she considered what this really meant.

“It wasn’t the decision to enter Borg space that was the difference,” she said slowly. “It was the Doctor creating the altered nanoprobes. If he hadn’t done that, Harry wouldn’t have been cured, and I wouldn’t have had anything to bargain with. My decision might have been the same as yours if the option of the nanoprobes wasn’t available.”

Necheyev nodded thoughtfully. “So now we know where the reality altered,” she said. She looked keenly at the captain. “Perhaps we should discuss these nanoprobes further.”

“There must be other differences,” Seven offered, completely unaware that she was changing the subject. Janeway knew, however and was grateful for it. She wanted to know more before she gave away all her cards. “What of my counterpart? I was assimilated by the Borg when I was six. Captain Janeway severed my link to the Collective when I was assigned as the Borg’s liaison to her. Here, I am a doctor?”

“Annika Hansen was never assimilated,” Necheyev offered, looking at the woman narrowly. “She is well known in her field of propulsion technology, having worked closely with Starfleet the past three years in attempting to adapt Borg transwarp technology to Starfleet vessels. I’ve met her and she’s not very similar to you at all.”

“She’s not in Starfleet?” Janeway asked curiously.

“No, she acts in a civilian capacity,” Johnson said. “I encounter her often in my role as base commander.”

Janeway noted the tone. It sounded as if her counterpart and Seven’s didn’t get along at all. How … well, the whole situation was odd.

“Oh course, the next point that we need to address is this,” Necheyev said, dark eyes darting back and forth between the two Voyager crewmembers.

“What the hell are we going to do with you?”

Seven sat quietly on the sofa in the corner. The conversation between the three Starfleet members had continued for a very long time, and she had found herself being left out of it more and more as they discussed things that she had no knowledge of, and people she did not know, in an effort to chart the differences between the realities. They had not noticed when she finally left the table to curl up here. A few hours later, Admiral Necheyev had left, citing other responsibilities and leaving the whole thing in the lap of the base commander, rushing to catch a shuttle which would take her back to Earth and Starfleet Command. That left the two redheads to worry away at the situation with the doggedness that was so characteristic of the Janeways, expanding exponentially with two of them going at it, feeding off each other as they picked apart every possibility for what had happened.

Seven was very fatigued, wanting nothing more than to curl up in Janeway’s arms and drift off to sleep. It seemed an eternity since she and Kathryn had been interrupted in the process of making love, but in truth, it had only been a few days ago, hours filled with telling their stories to various Starfleet personnel, and being cooped up together in this room which, despite its comfortable decor, was clearly a brig of sorts.

That in itself wouldn’t have been so bad. It was hardly the first time Seven had found herself locked up with the captain, and some of their most profoundly emotional times had come in brigs as a matter of fact. The problem with this one was that Janeway suspected they were under constant surveillance, and had pointed out the areas where Starfleet would most likely have monitoring devices. As a result, Seven was forced to act as if she were only Janeway’s officer, and not her partner.

That was a strategy they had developed a long time ago. If the situation were uncertain or unfamiliar, then Seven and the captain would remain completely professional, not hinting at their relationship in any way so as not to provide any enemy with a weapon to use against either of them. Despite the fact that they were deep in the Federation, Seven felt as if she were surrounded by enemies. Especially when she saw Necheyev’s expression whenever she had caught the Admiral observing her.

Seven found that she was staring at the other Kathryn … Commodore Johnson … and had to force herself to look away. The longer she was in the woman’s presence, the stranger she felt. She knew that this woman was not who she had fallen in love with or had fallen in love with her, but it disturbed her greatly that this ‘Janeway’ was so familiar and so chillingly different at the same time. The Borg had taken note of the wedding ring on the commodore’s finger, the difference in last names, having come to the conclusion that this ‘Janeway’ had married Mark Johnson.

Seven looked at the commodore’s ring that flashed in the muted light of the room and wondered how important it was to this ‘Janeway’. Seven understood that such items, uniquely chosen mementos, had exceptional relevance to some individuals. She herself, had something incredibly special hidden in the compartment of one of her implants, the one on her right bicep, an item which she had been secretly carrying for quite some time. When the time was right, she intended to give it to Kathryn. She suspected that Kathryn, upon finally finding out about it, would consider it ridiculously sentimental and far out of keeping with Seven’s Borg demeanor. On the other hand, Seven knew for a fact that the captain had an holo-image of Seven encoded into her command authorization so that whenever she logged on to any of Voyager’s systems and was working, a small image of Seven was always visible in the lower, left-hand corner of the screen. On a tricorder, it showed up only as a dot, but Seven knew what it was and felt warmed by it. So perhaps the captain was just as sentimental in her own way as Seven had discovered herself to be.

She wondered if this ‘Janeway’ felt about Mark the same way Kathryn felt about her. It made her uncomfortable to think that in this reality, ‘Janeway’ could love someone else, knowing that ‘Annika Hansen’ also existed. Seven realized there was no romantic relationship between her counterpart and Commodore Johnson, having picked that up from the inflections in the voice the few times ‘Dr. Hansen’ had been discussed. Indeed, it seemed that the relationship was antagonistic if there was any at all.

“Seven.”

Startled out of her musing, Seven regarded the two women, not knowing which one of them was speaking. “Yes?”

“Did you pick up any kind of displacement in the turbolift?” Johnson asked her. “Did your … implants record anything at all?”

Seven raised an eyebrow. “There was much ‘displacement’,” she responded. “From one wall to the other. However, I detected no form of energy beam or indication we were ‘transported’. In any event, my implants are incapable of ‘recording’ phenomena.”

She tried to keep the condescending tone out of her voice and knew she had not succeeded by the sharp look Janeway shot her. Very aware of Kathryn’s eyes on her, she tried to straighten her shoulders and look professional.

“Seven, you should try to get some sleep,” Kathryn said gently, but with the unmistakable tone of command lacing her voice, and only as she would speak to any crewmember.

Seven felt a sudden anger spark within her. She did not want to go to bed, not unless Kathryn was with her. The beds weren’t even constructed for two people, narrow bunks which were uncomfortable to lie upon. She was tired of having to pretend she wasn’t Kathryn’s partner. What difference did it make if they knew?

Her lips thinned as she tried not to blurt out her feelings, tried not to express how much she was missing Kathryn. She did not want to embarrass the captain, especially in front of this other ‘Janeway’ who so proudly wore the insignia of a higher rank. Kathryn seemed to sense her turmoil and Seven saw her eyes narrow in warning. Taking a deliberately slow breath, Seven nodded.

“I will comply, Captain,” she said quietly.

Unhappily, she got up and went into the ensuite which bordered their room. In the mirror over the sink, she could see that there were tears in her eyes, making them glisten, and fretfully she wiped them away with her sleeve. She washed her face and hands before removing her outfit, running it through the recycler before putting on the plain, dull grey pyjamas provided by Starfleet. Then she returned to the other room and placed her outfit on the nightstand before crawling into the bed furthest away from the area where the two older women were talking. She rolled over, facing the wall as she pulled the blanket over her shoulders, huddled against the stiff mattress and thin pillow.

She tried not to cry, awash in a sea of misery.

Janeway stifled a sigh as she saw Seven get into bed out of the corner of her eye. She could tell the young woman was very unhappy, but there was little she could do at the moment. There was a time for being affectionate, and a time to apply oneself to the matter at hand. This was the latter, but she made a mental note to find a way to connect with Seven later, even knowing that they were being monitored.

“It seems your Hansen is no more amenable to Starfleet protocol than mine is,” Johnson noted with cool disapproval.

Janeway felt a spark of anger flare. “Seven has been through a lot,” she replied shortly, her voice clipped and at its most dangerous register. “I have never regretted bringing her on board my ship. I certainly do not regret the opportunity I have had to know the uniquely wonderful person she is.”

Johnson seemed startled, both by the words, and by the furious tone in the captain’s voice. “I hadn’t realized you were so fond of her,” she said quietly, studying her closely. “My relationship with Dr. Hansen is anything but.”

Janeway hesitated, regretting how much she had revealed by her reaction. She still wasn’t sure of Necheyev’s attitude toward Seven’s Borgness, or how much this would have affected her counterpart’s view toward any hint of the Collective. She especially had no way of knowing how they would react to her being involved with one, and it was entirely possible that they might think she was unduly influenced by Seven.

Aren’t you? her little voice asked archly.

“She’s a very important member of my crew,” she said finally, crisply.

Johnson nodded. “I guess I understand that,” she said slowly. “If this base was more like it was on Voyager, perhaps I would feel a little more connected to the civilians. As it is, I’m never able to get the sense that they’re part of my crew, mostly because they go out of their way to show me how much they aren’t.”

“What exactly is it that you’re attempting to do here?” Janeway asked, curiously.

“The Transwarp Directive is an attempt to design starships with propulsion systems that mimic the Borg’s transwarp system,” Johnson explained. “After my return from the Delta Quadrant, I was promoted and assigned this project, probably because of my … our father’s role in previous Starfleet ship design. Dr. Hansen and her group of scientists were already working on a similar project, work that uses a lot of the information the older Hansens had gathered years ago when they studied the Borg. Once the war with the Dominion started, the group was ‘invited’ to bring their work into the Project, unifying our approach rather than duplicating it. In the beginning, they seemed quite appreciative of the funding and assistance we could provide. However, in the past year, they’ve developed an attitude that Starfleet is some sort of imperialistic organization that is going to turn their great discoveries into war machines. At least, that’s Dr. Hansen’s belief, fostered on her by her parents, and passed on to the rest of the team. It’s starting to become a problem.”

“This base is separate from the Utopia Planetia Shipyards, and is limited to authorized personnel only,” the commodore added. “You were brought here because it is the most secured area on the planet. The whole project is self-contained.”

Janeway nodded thoughtfully. “What happens now?” she asked.

Johnson took a breath. “To be truthful, I don’t know,” she admitted. “No one in Starfleet Command knows what to do with you, so for the time being, they’ve cheerfully left it up to us. However, since you have no idea what exactly it was your Voyager encountered, or how it might have transported you here, we don’t even know where to begin on finding a way to send you back. In the meantime, we can provide all the data we have on alternate realities and parallel universes, and take it from there.” She hesitated. “I have to admit that if what Seven of Nine says about Species 8472 is true, we’re going to need a defense against them.”

“You want Seven and I to give you the nanoprobe technology,” Janeway said coolly, looking at her. “In return for helping us find a way back.”

“An equitable trade is always good,” Johnson said quietly, not rising to the bait.

Janeway was suddenly very aware of the difference in their attitudes. This version of herself seemed so much wearier, more jaded than she was. “I’m guessing you married Mark,” she blurted, surprising herself as much as she apparently surprised Johnson.

By unspoken mutual consent, they had steered clear of any personal questions or comments, keeping it confined to Starfleet and professional comparisons, but now Janeway felt an intense curiosity that she couldn’t deny. There was a pause, and Janeway wasn’t sure if her counterpart was going to answer her implied question. Then the woman nodded briefly.

“Mark and I were married six months after Voyager’s return,” Johnson said, without much inflection in her tone. “He was my stability while I was going through the many briefings and interviews with the brass. I had missed him so much.”

Janeway’s eyes narrowed. There was something there she couldn’t recognize. Some unclear regret.

“In my reality, he moved on,” she offered quietly. “He waited a long time, was one of the last to give up hope, but in the end, he knew he had to get on with his life. He married a woman he worked with. Melissa Bell-something.”

“Melissa Bellwood,” Johnson said in an odd tone. “She’s his assistant.”

Janeway stared at her counterpart, noting the expression. What have I stirred up now?

“Is he…” she trailed off uncertainly, not sure she even had the right to ask.

“Having an affair?” Johnson said quietly. “I don’t believe it’s a sexual relationship. Not yet, anyway.”

Janeway frowned and Johnson looked away.

“I accepted the promotion, and this assignment because it would keep me close to Earth,” the commodore went on in a low voice. “Even so, I’m still not home enough, and he has his own career which takes him to other places as well. They’re together constantly. He shares his work with her, confides in her, and they have so much in common. I see him maybe once a month, and so much of my work here is classified. She’s giving him what I can’t, and he’s accepting it.”

Janeway took a breath, sorrowful for both her counterpart, and for Mark who she knew must also find himself in an unbearable position.

“I doubt we will be renewing the marriage when the term is up next year,” Johnson concluded. Janeway recognized the bleakness in her voice, the acknowledgment of failure, which was always anathema to her.

“I’m very sorry,” Janeway said sincerely.

Johnson shrugged ever so slightly. “It happens,” she said, without interest, almost as if this was something that she had already dealt with, and forgotten about. “I had just been alone for so long … I guess we didn’t work out everything we needed to in the beginning.” She focused on Janeway. “I’ve told you mine, now it’s your turn,” she said, dredging up a wry grin. “You ever get up the nerve to explore possibilities with Chakotay once you knew it was over with your Mark?”

Janeway swallowed a smile. It was definitely what everyone thought would happen, even herself for a while. Until Seven entered the picture. “My first officer is quite happy with my chief engineer,” she replied dryly.

Johnson looked a little shocked. “B’Elanna?” she said, eyes wide. “But she and Tom…”

“Didn’t work out in my reality,” Janeway said shortly. “B’Elanna and Chakotay had always shared something special. They complement each other and of course, they have the history of being in the Maquis together.”

“So you’re still alone,” Johnson said, voice full of compassion.

Janeway could not stifle the grin. “Not exactly, no,” she admitted. “There was another possibility I couldn’t have anticipated until it reached up and bit me.”

Johnson looked confused, thinking furiously. “Tuvok?” she guessed.

“Oh, god, no,” Janeway said, trying not to laugh. “Even if he wasn’t married, I drive him crazy enough just being his friend.”

Johnson looked befuddled, then horrified. “Not Neelix,” she ventured in a whisper.

Janeway did laugh this time. “I’ll never be that alone,” she said, wondering why her counterpart had suggested that name, then deciding she really didn’t want to know.

“Then who?”

Janeway paused, thinking very hard about this, but she was the one who had started the whole conversation after all, instigating the discussion into their personal lives. Now she had to accept the consequences of that decision. Ruefully, she motioned with her head towards the figure huddled on the bed across the room. Johnson’s eyes followed the gesture, then widened as she realized what Janeway was saying.

“You can’t be serious,” she said.

“Sometimes you can’t choose who you fall in love with,” Janeway said with gentle humor. “Sometimes it just happens, and it turns out to be everything you could have ever wanted or needed.” Johnson stared at her and Janeway was forced to smile. “As you can imagine, we would be very appreciative of acquiring less monitored quarters,” she suggested as an afterthought.

Johnson blinked, then nodded, apparently still dazed. “I’ll see to it,” she said. “In the meantime, if there’s anything else you require…”

Janeway shook her head. “I’ll let you know,” she said. They stood and she found that she was reaching out her hand to her counterpart who clasped it warmly. “If nothing else, this has shown me a little of what might have been if my choices had been a bit different,” she added.

Johnson dipped her head in acknowledgment. “I’m a little surprised myself,” she admitted. She regarded Janeway intently. “You should get some sleep, though I know I’m probably wasting my time. We can get you set up with a work area and better quarters in the morning.”

“That would be fine,” Janeway said, escorting her counterpart to the door. “Good night, Commodore.”

Johnson hesitated, then nodded, a glint of amusement in the blue-grey eyes. “Captain,” she noted briefly.

Janeway stood for a long moment, staring blankly at the door which had slid shut behind the other woman. This was, without a doubt, one of the oddest situations she had ever been in. It was very disconcerting to have this opportunity to step outside herself, allowing her to get a view of what might have been.

She tried to control her concern about her ship as she headed for the small ensuite attached to the room, worried about Chakotay and the others, wondering what they were going through. Had the entire ship been displaced or was it limited to only her and Seven? The problem was, she didn’t know where to begin. They had no tricorder on them when they entered the turbolift, and they had no data as to what had been happening on the bridge. She could only hope that her ship was intact and even now, her crew was coming up with a way to retrieve them.

She finished dressing in the Starfleet-issued sleeping garments, and went out to her own bunk which was opposite Seven’s. Her partner had not moved in the last little while but for some reason, Janeway didn’t think she was asleep. The captain lay on the uncomfortable mattress, staring at the ceiling in the dim illumination, wanting nothing more than to go over and wrap herself around Seven. As long as they were being monitored, she couldn’t afford that indulgence, however.

“Seven, are you awake?” she whispered quietly.

There was no answer for the longest time, and Janeway decided that her supposition had been incorrect when she heard Seven’s low response.

“I am awake.”

Janeway swallowed hard, felt tears sting her eyes at the sadness in the voice. “Seven, you know I….” she trailed off, refusing to say the three little words which were meant only for her partner, and not for the ears of whatever Starfleet technician was responsible for the security monitors on this room. It was too personal and too private, rarely said in front of Voyager’s crew who were actually as close as family to her; she was damned if some stranger should hear it. Yet, she wanted so much to connect with Seven, to let her know that she wasn’t forgotten, that the situation was as hard on her as it was on the young Borg.

There was a pause.

“I know,” Seven said softly. She hesitated. “I do, too.”

The couple had to content themselves with that as finally, sleep overcame them both.

“What are you saying here?” Chakotay said, a touch of annoyance tingeing his voice. It had been a long time since he had slept, and he could feel the fatigue seep through him like an insidious presence, dragging him down physically and emotionally. How did the captain do it? he wondered. Go for days on end and never loose her edge. He could barely keep his eyes open.

It had been a week since they had encountered the anomaly, had been impacted by the sudden surge of energy which had erupted spear-like from the pinkish cloud to pierce the ship’s hull, stabbing through it to the space beyond. It had disrupted all their systems, taking hours for main power to be restored. Fortunately, casualties had been light in the sudden shaking the ship had undergone but it hadn’t taken them long to realize they had missing personnel. Initially, to their great horror, they had believed that the energy wave had disintegrated the captain and Seven inside the damaged turbolift. It was only now that B’Elanna Torres and Lt. Harry Kim were offering a new perspective.

“We think it was more than just an energy wave,” B’Elanna said. “It was actually a corridor to another reality.”

“One that took the Captain and Seven,” Harry added, his dark eyes intent. The greenest of ensigns fresh out of the Academy when Voyager had been swept into the Delta Quadrant, he was finally starting to grow into himself and all his potential. “They’re not dead, just … somewhere else.”

“Where?” Chakotay asked.

“That’s what we’ll have to find out,” B’Elanna said. “By recreating the energy burst and duplicating its signature.”

“Then what?” he asked, staring at her.

The raven-haired Klingon shared a glance with Harry. “Then one of us goes through, finds the captain and Seven, and brings them back.”

“That simple,” Voyager’s first officer said, and if there was a touch of skepticism in his tone, it was warranted.

There was no question that the two crewmembers standing before him were absolutely brilliant, and over the span of five years, had come up with countless innovative and remarkable methods of getting things done, incredible things that seemed impossible at first glance. But this was a little unspecific, even for them. He rubbed the tribal tattoo on his forehead with the back of his thumb, an unconscious gesture of worry and dismay.

He glanced over at Tuvok who had been listening to this without comment, one Vulcan eyebrow elegantly raised. The security chief regarded him impassively.

“We have little in the way of alternatives,” he pointed out.

“That’s true,” Chakotay admitted and shifted uneasily in his seat. This chair at the head of the conference table had always seemed uncomfortable to him, just as the command chair on the bridge did. He was always aware that it wasn’t his, that whenever he sat in it, he was merely keeping it warm for its true owner. “All right, how long before we can replicate this?”

“A few days, maybe a week,” B’Elanna guessed. Considering she was contemplating the inconceivable, Chakotay figured he should be surprised it would take so long.

He held out his hands, spreading them in a gesture of surrender. “Do it,” he ordered. He looked at Tom Paris who was observing him closely. “Maintain station-keeping here.”

His support staff nodded crisply and vacated the conference room, leaving behind B’Elanna who got up and moved next to him, leaning against the table. He looked up at her, seeing the determination in her eyes, and with a weary smile, he reached out to take her hand.

“Can you do this?” he asked in a private tone, lover to lover, not acting captain to chief engineer.

“I have to,” she said simply. She bent down and kissed him gently, biting at his bottom lip.

He held her for a moment before letting her go, knowing she was anxious to get started on this. “It was such bad luck,” he muttered, almost to himself. “The way the beam came through, it missed everyone else. It would have missed the captain and Seven if the turbolift had just been a little slower or faster.”

“We can’t worry about what might have been,” B’Elanna said softly. “We have to deal with what is. I’m going to get them back, Chakotay. Count on it.”

Commodore Johnson led Seven and Janeway through the corridor toward their new quarters, which were on the upper levels of the base, escorted by a security team who bore only hand phasers, but were still quite watchful of their ‘guests’. Seven ignored them, concentrating only on her partner and the captain’s counterpart. She had decided that as time progressed, it was becoming easier for her to separate the two Janeways, not just by their uniform or their look, but by the aura they emanated. She had no words to describe this, but she was now able to distinguish which one was speaking to her, even without looking. Perhaps it was simply the love in her Kathryn’s voice that was missing in the other’s, the adoration only she could hear threading through the wonderfully husky tone. Seven studied the two surreptitiously as they walked in front of her, two compact forms striding briskly side-by-side through the hall, auburn-haired twins radiating a sense of power and command. Yet, on the right, her Kathryn had just a little more energy, a little more ease to the set of her shoulders, a little more crispness in her motion.

It made Seven uneasy. She had always been aware of the burden her partner carried, but she had assumed it was a result of being lost in the Delta Quadrant, of being completely responsible for the ship, as well as being the sole representative of Starfleet within thousands of light-years. Commodore Johnson, one the other hand, was home and no longer responsible for Voyager, or the lives of her crew, yet she still seemed more burdened than Kathryn, almost defeated in a way. It was an intriguing puzzle, and Seven was thoroughly absorbed in her observation when an interruption jolted her out of her musing.

“There you are,” came an oddly familiar voice behind them. “Dammit, Commodore, I’ve been searching all over this base for you.”

Commodore Johnson turned, annoyance and dismay warring for dominance in her expression. Seven had the briefest impression of a tall, impatient figure that brushed past her, and planted herself in front of the commodore, hands on her hips, a petulant expression on her face. Seven was marginally aware of Janeway moving to her side, staring at the newcomer in total fascination. Seven supposed that she was equally astounded by what she was seeing.

“Dr. Hansen, which part of ‘Authorized Starfleet Personnel Only’ are you having trouble understanding?” Johnson said, gazing up at her opponent with a set jaw, reminiscent of a Terran bulldog.

“I need to know the specs for the experimental ship if we’re ever going to get this done,” Dr. Annika Hansen snapped back, blue eyes sparking. She was dressed in a long, white lab coat, her blonde hair done up in a bun that was disarrayed, as if neatness was of no concern. “I don’t know what pet project Starfleet has you working on now, but you’re supposed to be concentrating on….”

Dr. Hansen seemed to notice the two Voyager crewmembers for the first time, and her voice trailed off as she regarded Janeway and Seven … mostly Seven … with complete and utter shock.

“What the hell’s going on here?” she blurted, eyes wide.

Seven raised an eyebrow, unimpressed with her counterpart. This ‘Dr. Hansen’ seemed so … disorganized. It wasn’t just the mussed hair, or the less than precise form of speaking. The lab coat, as well as the plain clothes underneath, were spotted with grease and fluid, and Seven’s nostrils quivered as she detected the acrid odor of conduit sealant wafting from the woman.

“What’s going on here is about to provide you with a small vacation, I’m afraid,” Johnson said crisply, and nodded at the two security guards who had been accompanying them. They immediately flanked the young woman. “This is a highly classified situation, and you’ve trespassed into a secured area.”

Dr. Hansen was furious. “You can’t do this,” she barked. “I’m a civilian, Johnson. You have no right to hold me against my will. Just what are you doing anyway? Are these clones? That’s completely unethical.”

“It’s a long story,” Johnson replied, her eyes flashing a deep grey. “But one you’ll have plenty of time to hear.”

Without another word, she strode down the corridor. Janeway and Seven hesitated, then scurried to catch up, Dr. Hansen and her guards bringing up the rear.

“Commodore, I want to know what’s going on,” the scientist insisted, her voice strident in the enclosed halls. Seven wondered if she sounded as irritating when she raised her voice. Not much wonder Kathryn used to become so annoyed with her during the arguments they shared during the early stages of their relationship.

Johnson ignored the young woman as she led them into a large, comfortably decorated suite at the far end of a corridor, which was interrupted by several force field emitters. Directly across the hall, there was a laboratory filled with consoles and equipment, and it was clear that this was an area sectioned off from the rest of the facility.

Finally, the commodore turned to address them, staring primarily at Dr. Hansen. “I have to see about covering your absence,” Johnson told the infuriated scientist. “In the meantime, you are to stay with them. I’m sure they’ll be glad to fill you in. While you will be free to travel about the upper level and the administration level, just as they are, you will not have clearance to return to the transwarp labs past level two so long as this situation exists. Is that understood?”

The tall physicist glared at the Starfleet officer. “You can’t just keep me away from my work,” she said coldly. “There’ll be an outcry from the rest of the team when I disappear.”

“Only one of joy, I suspect,” Johnson replied shortly. “You might as well calm down and help us figure this mess out.”

“What mess?” Hansen said. “What about my experiments?”

“I guess you should have thought about that before you wandered into a secured area,” Johnson said. “What exactly did you come in here for anyway? Surely it wasn’t to find me. You just wanted to know what was going on, didn’t you?”

Caught, Hansen frowned, then glanced at the other two. “Can’t they talk?” she asked. “They don’t look very intelligent.”

“We’re not clones,” Janeway said calmly. She raked the woman with a look that seemed to dissect her. “As for talking, you seem to be doing enough for all of us.”

Hansen’s frown grew larger, her gaze darting back and forth between Janeway and Seven. “I’ll be damned if I know what Starfleet has in mind creating you two,” she said. “Duplicates? Are you shape-shifters? Changelings?”

“Captain Janeway and I are from a parallel universe,” Seven remarked, finally finding her voice. “You and I are the same person, but from different realities.”

Dr. Hansen blinked. “You’re kidding,” she said.

“I assure you, I am not,” Seven said. She tilted her head slightly, regarding her other. “You were never assimilated.”

“Assimilated?” Hansen echoed. “You mean … by the Borg?”

“Yes,” Seven responded. “My parents and I were assimilated in the Delta Quadrant nineteen years ago.”

“Woah! Waitaminute!” Hansen threw her hands up and walked away, clearly taking a moment to adjust.

Seven noticed that Johnson and the security guards had unobtrusively taken their leave, and she wondered if the force fields had been erected in their wake. The quarters themselves were quite generous, the expansive living area decorated in Starfleet blue and silver, while a small, but complete, dining area was set off to the side, boasting a table with four chairs. Through various open doorways, the Borg could see what had to be bedrooms, large double beds which were already made up with linens and bedding, and the young woman was struck by a sudden qualm. She certainly hoped that the amount of sleeping quarters didn’t mean she was still expected to still stay apart from Kathryn. She stubbornly decided that she simply wouldn’t accept that decision should Janeway attempt to make it.

The captain had taken a seat on the sofa, and was watching them both keenly. Her gaze caught Seven’s, and the Borg thought that Janeway was mildly amused with this incarnation of her partner. Seven did not share this amusement, and she frowned at the captain, trying to ignore Hansen who was pacing erratically about the room as if she could not contain the energy bubbling within, examining everything while darting baffled glances in the direction of the two Voyager crewmembers at random intervals.

“Nineteen years ago, Mama and Papa were studying the Borg,” Dr. Hansen said finally, as if deciding that the only way to figure this out was to explain her presence. “They were exobiologists and managed to gather a huge amount of information on them, including a great deal about the transwarp coils that power their vessels. When I went into engineering, I drew on that data while trying to develop a transwarp propulsion system for Federation ships. My parents were never assimilated, however. They had one close call which scared them enough to abort the rest of their studies, and subsequently made their way back to the Alpha Quadrant where they presented their findings to the Federation Council. Fortunately, it was enough to pardon the various … indiscretions … they had committed in their pursuit of their subjects. What’s your story?”

Seven thought that over for a moment. “In my reality, they were unable to avoid being noticed by the Borg, and were perceived as a threat,” she said. She hesitated, seeking memories which were vague and lost in the mists of time and trauma. “I was only six when it happened, but I know their experiments were very important, and that we lived on the Raven for a very long time.”

Her voice had gotten softer, taking on the childlike tone it always did when she was struggling to remember the time before the Collective.

“We believe that the Hansens were the first Humans the Borg encountered,” Janeway interrupted suddenly, standing up and drifting over to Seven, hovering protectively by her. “The Raven crashed on a world deep within the Delta Quadrant, but the Hansens were unable to escape assimilation. Seven was a Borg drone from the time she was six until I severed her from the Collective eighteen years later.”

“Incredible,” Annika said, staring at them both. “When I was six, my parents joined the Daystrom Institute. They’re still there, in fact. That’s where I was raised, and went to school.”

Janeway raised an eyebrow. “I’m impressed,” she allowed.

“The ‘Daystrom Institute’?” Seven asked, looking at Janeway quizzically.

“It’s similar to Starfleet Academy, Seven,” Janeway explained. “However, it’s devoted to purely theoretical pursuits and the development of science personnel. Only the very best minds graduate from there.”

Seven thought about that. She knew that she had a unique sort of memory, and that she was considered extremely intelligent by the Voyager crew, but she had believed that a lot of it had to do with having the knowledge of thousands of species in her mind, of her experience in the Collective. Now, it appeared that her intelligence was a natural occurrence.

Hansen was regarding Janeway narrowly. “You’re Johnson’s counterpart, aren’t you?” she said, more a statement than a question. “You’re only a captain. Are you as close-minded and rigid an individual?”

“Janeway is the finest captain in the fleet,” Seven said abruptly, frowning as she regarded the scientist. “Furthermore, she is my captain. She deserves far better than that tone of disrespect from you.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve let Starfleet brainwash you?” Hansen said with a trace of disgust. “I would have expected better of myself. But then,” she added in an afterthought. “Being assimilated probably left you open to all sorts of suggestion. Johnson’s always been good at getting her own way. Even if it is the most asinine, limited, militaristic way there is. I suppose Janeway is the same way. “

Seven took a breath. She knew that she was being insulted by the other woman. That was irrelevant. However, it was also clear that Kathryn was being insulted as well, and that was simply intolerable. She reached out to grab her counterpart, fully intending to turn her upside down until she apologized. Janeway forestalled the motion, grabbing her arms, and imposing herself between Seven and Dr. Hansen.

“Seven of Nine,” she said intently, looking into Seven’s face. “Whatever problems our counterparts have with each other, it does not concern us. All we need to worry about is returning to where we belong, all right?”

Seven hesitated, staring down into the beloved features of her partner. “Very well,” she agreed grudgingly, after a moment. “However, there is no need for her to insult you.”

Dr. Hansen was staring at them both with a confounded expression on her face. “You two actually get along,” she muttered with a certain sort of disbelief.

“We are engaged,” Seven said proudly, glaring at her. “I love Kathryn.”

She was aware of Janeway wincing slightly, and she knew that she had probably revealed more than the captain wanted her to, but she was tired of hiding her feelings for Kathryn. In any event, she had overheard the captain tell Johnson that they were involved when she had eavesdropped shamelessly the night before, though, of course, it had been in Janeway’s typical, roundabout fashion she used whenever she was discussing her private life, so it was hardly a secret any longer.

“Oh, boy,” Dr. Hansen said in a faint voice. She went over and sat down on a chair unsteadily. “I can’t imagine a universe where I would ever be in love with Commodore Kathryn Johnson.”

“I am not in love with Commodore Johnson,” Seven corrected, wanting to be as precise as possible. “I am in love with Captain Janeway.”

Dr. Hansen hesitated. “What’s the difference?”

Captain Janeway let go of Seven, and went over to sit on the couch opposite the young scientist, leaning forward and granting the woman her full attention. “Perhaps none,” she offered quietly. “I don’t know what the basis is for your conflict with the Commodore, but in our reality, Seven and I make a very good team, working together with the rest of my crew toward a common goal … returning to the Alpha Quadrant. Any conflicts we’ve had in the past, we’ve managed to resolve.”

“I’d say you have, especially if you’re engaged,” Hansen responded tartly.

Janeway shook her head slightly. “No, it’s more a matter of accepting each other for who we are,” she said, thoughtfully. “I admit, it wasn’t easy in the beginning, and we did have our share of problems, but I’ve always appreciated Seven’s intelligence, and she’s always respected my responsibilities. I do know that there’ll never be a better person suited to me than Annika is … or me to her.” She paused, looking at the suddenly confused young woman with her most compassionate expression. “In any event, I am fully aware of the great capabilities of Seven’s mind, and I know that yours must be equally as formidable. Will you help us find a way back to our own reality?”

Dr. Hansen regarded the captain as if she had never encountered anything like her before. Seven thought she knew what Hansen was feeling. Janeway was a unique individual, even accounting for parallel universes, and her presence was something that could not help affecting even the strongest personality. It had certainly affected Seven from the very first moment she laid eyes on the small, energetic woman on that fateful day so long ago in a Borg Cube.

“I’ll do what I can,” the scientist said finally. She flicked a glance toward Seven. “Besides, this is all so weird that I’d hate to miss finding out on what happens in the end. I’ve always known I was capable of great things. Having two of us in action should be phenomenal.”

Seven raised an eyebrow. She was glad to see that modesty was not a failing her other self suffered from either.

Captain Janeway stood in front of the sink in the ensuite attached to her assigned room, frowning as she studied her features in the mirror. She did have a few more lines around her eyes than the last time she checked, but that was to be expected, considering all she had been through the past couple of years. Still, there was a definite clearness to her features that her counterpart did not have. She had been afraid that she also displayed that sense of bone-deep weariness in her eyes that Johnson seemed to have as a constant companion. What could be so different?

It’s happiness, Katie, her little voice prodded. Despite being lost in the Delta Quadrant, despite not knowing what’s going on back home, at your core, in the center of all you are, you’re happy. Johnson isn’t. She may have returned to the Alpha Quadrant, but her marriage is failing, she’s stuck in a desk job babysitting a bunch of spoiled civilians, and she isn’t where she belongs … at the conn of a starship. Bringing Voyager home is never going to be enough to make up for that. You just thank your lucky stars that in your reality, Seven became a part of your life.

Janeway sighed. When Johnson had returned later in the day, it was to inform them that Hansen would be staying in the suite with them for the time being. Janeway hadn’t liked it, but she understood the necessity for it. It was probably what she would have done, but Seven had given her such an odd look when Janeway had assigned bedrooms that the captain had developed a definite sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. She wondered how furious her partner was at having to remain separate from her for a bit longer.

How much longer? Her voice asked snidely. We may be here for the foreseeable future. It’s not like you have any sort of clue about returning to our own reality.

Janeway really didn’t want to think about that. In truth, it gave her a sick feeling in her chest, and she could feel a palpable sense of panic dance around the edges of her mind. Rarely had she been in a position where, not only did she have no idea how to solve the problem, she was completely stymied as to where to start. Nor could she see how anyone else could could ocme up with a solution, either.

She took a deep breath. Go to bed, she told herself sternly. A little sleep could help … it certainly couldn’t hurt … and she honestly couldn’t think of anything else to do. Feeling helpless, she left the ensuite and walked into the bedroom.

Seven of Nine was stretched out on the bed, blonde head propped up on her hand, elbow bent, regarding Janeway with an avid intensity. She wqas also quite gloriously naked.

“Annika?”

Seven bent her head, eyes dark, brows lowered as she glowered at her. “I have placed Borg encryption codes on the door seal,” she said, forestalling the captain’s objections. “A complete scan has revealed no surveillance equipment or monitoring devices. We are completely alone within this room.”

Janeway caught her breath. “Seven, we can’t,” she said weakly. “This is inappropriate considering the situation we’re in.”

“That is an unacceptable conclusion,” Seven said firmly.

“Seven….” Janeway’s voice trailed off as she read the look in those eyes, becoming aware that this was an argument she could not win. For that matter, it was not an argument she particularly wanted to win.

“Yes?”

“We’ll have to be … very quiet,” the captain said in a warning tone.

The smile that spread over the Borg’s face lit up the entire room, and set her sapphire eyes aglow. “I might point out that it was not my vocal emanations that required additional soundproofing be added to our quarters on Voyager,” she pointed out silkily.

“Oh, my darling,” Janeway countered warmly. “You were very responsible for that.”

Seven raised her head, continuing to smile. “Very well,” she said. Her look intensified. “Are you coming to bed?”

Janeway glanced down at the drab grey Starfleet-issued pyjamas, then looked back at Seven as she grinned. “I was on my way,” she admitted. “I suppose it would be a good idea to lose these.”

“You are beautiful in whatever you wear,” Seven assured her. “However, it would be acceptable if you were to remove them.”

Janeway shimmied out of the simple cotton outfit, and stood before Seven’s appreciative gaze, feeling suddenly shy though she didn’t know why. She knew she had been blessed with a fast metabolism that left her lean and wiry, but she also could not deny that stress and time were starting to take their toll, her belly rounding into middle age instead of the board flatness she had enjoyed when she was Seven’s age, the breasts no longer displaying the perkiness of youth, sagging slightly on her chest. On the other hand, she wouldn’t want to be in her twenties again, she thought. She rather liked the person she had become, and the sheer love and naked want in Seven’s eyes made her feel like the most desirable being in all the universes.

“Come here,” Seven requested huskily. “Please.”

Janeway slipped into the bed next to her partner, feeling Seven’s arms wrap lovingly around her torso as she buried her head into the soft hollow of Seven’s shoulder, clinging to her tightly. It felt so good to touch her once more, to feel the wonderfully lush body pressing tightly against hers. For a moment, she gloried in the utter delight of being with Seven again, of having these warm arms holding her so powerfully, protectively, shielding her from the cold reality outside. The fear and helplessness she had been feeling, receded as she absorbed the embrace, wanting nothing more than to confide her apprehension to Seven, yet remaining hesitant. She was Seven’s captain. She had to be strong for her.

“What is causing your concern?” Seven asked quietly, cradling the captain gently without any attempt to do anything beyond, apparently knowing something was troubling her partner.

“Nothing,” Janeway whispered. “I’m just so glad to be with you again.”

“I am glad to be with you,” Seven told her, as she kissed her temple tenderly. “However, there is still something bothering you. Tell me.”

Janeway took a long, slow breath, inhaling the warm scent of her lover, completely unable to resist the demand in the soft voice.

“Oh, darling,” she said reluctantly. “We are in such trouble.”

“We have been in trouble before,” Seven reminded her with quiet humor. “We, undoubtedly, will be again, but if you are referring to the fact that we have little data regarding our present situation, then you must realize, I will find a solution. I always do. Additionally, you have two of us working on the problem.”

“I do, don’t I?” Janeway smiled, reassured by the confidence in her lover’s voice despite knowing that Seven was far from omnipotent. Yet, Seven also knew her captain was less than perfect … and had complete faith in her, anyway. Could Janeway do any less?

“I also believe that Voyager is currently working on a way to retrieve us,” Seven added.

“If they’re able,” Janeway noted with some apprehension.

“We have no way of knowing in either case,” Seven said. “Unless we have evidence to the contrary, I prefer to believe that B’Elanna is working just as hard as I and my counterpart will be in determining a way to find us.” She paused. “It would be helpful if this universe’s Lt. Torres could assist.”

Janeway shook her head. “This reality’s Tom Paris and B’Elanna Torres were assigned to the USS Liberty,” she said. “They’re on patrol along the front. Even if we could lure her away from Captain Scott, she couldn’t return here in anything less than two months.”

“Unfortunate,” Seven said. She reached up and stroked Janeway’s hair gently, raking her fingers through the short locks soothingly. “I know that you are worried,” she added. “You must have hope, Kathryn.”

Janeway chuckled. “I’m usually the one telling you that,” she said. “You would tell me that hope is irrelevant.”

“Perhaps before,” Seven whispered. “No longer. When I was assimilated, I had nothing. I would rather have hope.”

“That’s a good way to be,” Janeway said. She pulled back a little so that she could look into her lover’s narrow features. “I promise. I’ll try to maintain my hope as well.”

Seven smiled and bent her head, resting her forehead on Janeway’s. “That is all I can request,” she said. “I will not fail you.”

“I know you won’t,” Janeway said, kissing her gently on the nose. “You never have.”

She closed her eyes as Seven pulled her against her, feeling the generous mouth seek out and capture her lips. How long had it been since they last kissed? If she couldn’t pinpoint the time exactly, then it was far too long. She made a soft sound in her throat as she was captivated by the taste and touch of her partner, remembering too late that she was supposed to be quiet.

“Oh dear,” she said throatily as Seven finally released her. “I don’t know that I can keep the noise down.”

“Then, do not,” Seven said firmly. “If my other self is disturbed by the sound of people in love, then that is her problem.”

Janeway laughed, raising her head as Seven proceeded to nibble her way along her neck and over her jaw, reveling in the feel of the young woman against her. “Darling, I think I’m a bit uncomfortable knowing someone might hear us,” she said.

Seven growled and bit her earlobe.

“Ow,” Janeway yelped, more startled than stung by the unexpected nip. “Have you been receiving tips in making love from B’Elanna again?”

“You worry too much about irrelevant things,” Seven insisted softly. “I am here, you are here, we are together. That is the only thing that need concern either of us.”

Janeway looked at her, then smiled slowly. “You’re absolutely right, my darling,” she said, unable to resist granting the point as she dipped her head to look into Seven’s eyes. “I surrender. I’m completely yours for the next hour or so.”

“Several hours,” Seven corrected promptly. “It has been a long time since we have been able to make love.”

“Oh my,” Janeway said, then was forced to stop speaking as her mouth was captured by a suddenly possessive Seven who kissed her deeply, pressing the captain down onto the mattress.

Janeway ran her hands over the silky smooth back, accepting the weight pressing on her joyously, loving the feel of the body covering her so warmly. How long had it been since that morning when they had been interrupted? How long since she had been with the woman she loved?

Far too long, she decided, and swore to herself that she wouldn’t worry about anything else but Seven. Because, in the end, Seven was the only thing that mattered.

Seven felt the woman beneath her respond with unmistakable desire, felt the captain’s fingers press into her shoulders, exploring the line of bone and flesh with a touch that sent shivers through her. She so adored Kathryn, wanted and needed her so much. The taste of her was intoxicating, and she kissed her as if drinking from a well after a long drought. How had she managed to get through that month without making love to her, how had she survived being deprived of the feel of the compact body against her? Sometimes it seemed like she could not get close enough to her, could not love her enough.

She felt the captain’s hands moving restlessly on her back, stroking her from the top of the Borg’s neck down to the base of her spine where gentle fingertips traced the twin implants set into the dimples there. The flesh was numb in the immediate vicinity of the implants, and the sensation was limited, as indeed, most of her torso had been prior to the removal of her abdominal mesh. Still, Seven appreciated that Janeway did not avoid her implants when making love, but the young woman was much more aware of the way the rest of her body felt in those areas which were no longer desensitized. Seven settled on the soft swell of Kathryn’s stomach under hers with a sweet perception, almost being tickled by the silky smooth skin as they moved together, while the delicate sharpness of Janeway’s nipples jabbed into the underside of her breasts with pure pleasure. Their legs were entwined warmly, and Seven felt Janeway tangle them even more, wrapping one around the back of her calf. There was just so much sensation now, and she wiggled delightedly against the captain’s body, trying to put as large an area of skin against Kathryn as possible.

Janeway laughed deep in her throat, as if understanding what Seven was trying to do, and she pressed up against the younger woman, increasing the range of her hands’ exploration, running them over the young woman’s ribs and hips, cupping the buttocks which she squeezed tightly, making Seven push against her. Seven gasped as she felt their groins scrape together, the hairs pulling and tangling, but in a very pleasurable way, arousing and exciting her. Then, Janeway was shifting beneath her, and before Seven quite realized what was happening, the captain had rolled them over so that she was on top.

This was nice too, Seven considered, as she felt Kathryn’s much lighter mass press down on her. She liked how Janeway’s thighs fell to either side of her leg naturally, so that the wet, warm area was pressed intimately against the top of her thigh. She bent her knee, pushing up against the captain, felt her undulate briefly against it. Janeway liked to pleasure herself like this, but not regularly, and apparently not this time because she fell on Seven’s breasts, sucking on the nipples avidly, biting at them gently, and the Borg groaned, arching up to provide Kathryn with more of her ample flesh.

Seven loved how her partner felt on her, how her mouth was so incredibly skilled at doing the most wonderful things to her body. The older woman’s tongue swirled against the areolas, then flicked the hard nubbins of flesh, feeling the suction of her lips cause them to become even firmer. The small hands squeezed and fondled the soft flesh, and while Seven did not share Kathryn’s acute sensitivity in this area, she thoroughly enjoyed the attention the captain paid to her breasts, how it made ripples of pleasure run through her stomach, how it caused her to generate copious amounts of moisture between her legs, and how it made her want Kathryn so much, it actually hurt inside. She raked the fingers of her right hand through the short auburn hair that fell so soft about the beautiful face, tracing gently the line of her ears, and then down the back of her neck, lingering on her spine.

“Spread your legs, darling,” Janeway commanded huskily, and Seven moaned again, the throaty voice sending chills through her before she had even been touched. She complied eagerly, feeling the long, elegant fingers stroke the inside of her thighs, running lightly over the silk smooth skin there.

However, Janeway liked to tease the Borg, almost as much as Seven liked to tease her in return, and the captain made no move to touch her where the young woman so desperately wanted to be touched, continuing to concentrate on the inside of her thighs, stroking featherlight down to her knees, then back up, going ever so close … agonizingly close … before shifting over to the other leg. Seven knew the captain wanted her to cry out, wanted her to plead, but she resisted, biting her lip to keep the words back even as the gentle strokes made her moan and arch up. Janeway was without mercy, however, and finally Seven broke, a complete surrender offered willingly by the Borg.

“Kathryn, please,” she whispered. “Oh, please, touch me. Please.”

And Janeway did, her fingertips lightly touching the crease, then one fingertip parted it to slip so easily against Seven, moving over the hard little center that ached with a sweet pleasure, fondling it so gently, carefully, swirling over it.

“Kathryn!”

Seven cried out, and groped above her head until her left hand closed over one of the decorative metal rods which made up the headboard. It immediately began to bend and distort, but it stayed attached to the wall, and that was all that mattered as Seven gripped it tightly, the metal crumpling beneath the implant that exerted amazing amounts of pressure as the young woman felt Kathryn slip her finger carefully into her, stroking her deeply. Quickly, they achieved an easy rhythm that Seven responded to with her hips, and she cried out again, incoherent, lost in the pleasure being granted her by her beloved. Her belly tightened, the ecstasy racing down to where Janeway had added a second finger which caressed her so intimately, and then she was spasming helplessly, her body pulsating, trying to draw Kathryn into her deeper. Wanting her as part of her soul, Seven was helpless in the physical response that set her heart to racing, dried the tissue of her mouth as she gasped for air, and made her feel as if her entire body was being dissolved into pure sensation, utter emotion.

When she returned to herself, Kathryn was kissing her mouth passionately, hungrily, and she knew exactly what her partner wanted, needing to give it to her as much. She growled, unaware that she had done so, and rolled them over, pressing down on Kathryn heavily, spreading her legs with an inserted knee even as the captain pulled her down. She tried not to be rough as she licked and kissed the small breasts, even though Kathryn seemed to welcome the forcefulness of it. Worming her hand between their bodies, Seven found the heat that drew her in with incredible ease, and the captain dug her fingernails into her back, almost clawing at her as Seven pushed into her, flexing her fingers hard. It was not as gentle as she preferred, but sometimes Kathryn disdained the younger woman’s deliberate, careful gentleness, wanting to be taken completely. Somehow, with an instinct which came from being in love, Seven knew this was one of those times, and she did her best to comply even as she was careful to hold back the greater part of her strength.

She reared up, and found Kathryn’s mouth, kissing her hard, possessively, and to her surprise, she felt the woman react with an unmistakable sound, felt the heat and wetness grip her with incredible tightness, and she knew her lover was climaxing. It had happened so quickly … much quicker than normal … and she wondered at it even as she continued to caress her. Nor did she ease off though she wasn’t sure why, keeping the captain from relaxing into the afterglow, intensifying her motion and within minutes, she felt Janeway climax again, seemingly even harder, then again, and still Seven continued to take Kathryn, the couple utilizing the entire expanse of the bed in their frenzied lovemaking, until finally, the Borg knew it was enough, though how she understood it was beyond her. Carefully, Seven released the woman who was helpless in her arms, sobbing from the intensity and duration of it, as they relaxed onto the mattress.

Bemused, Seven cuddled her, unsure of what had caused her to act in such a manner. “Kathryn,” she asked quietly. “Are you all right? I am sorry if I hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me, darling,” Kathryn whispered back, collampsed against the Borg’s side, the captain’s head resting on her shoulder, arm wrapped around her chest, leg thrown wantonly over Seven’s hips. “You were wonderful, exactly what I needed tonight. How did you know?”

Seven shook her head. “I do not know,” she said. “I just … felt it.”

“Then by all means, follow your instincts,” the captain uttered in a delightfully throaty voice.

“I shall,” Seven allowed. She cupped the beloved face in her palm and raised it to her so she could kiss Kathryn with a thoroughness that left the captain trembling. “Now I want to taste you,” she murmured against the lips.

“Oh god,” Kathryn said, and Seven heard her swallow hard. “I don’t know if I have anything left.”

“Let us find out, shall we?” Seven prompted, nuzzling the small ear.

“If you insist,” Kathryn allowed. After a brief pause just to show that she had given the idea suitable consideration.

“I do,” Seven said, and rolled her over once more.

Seven of Nine strolled out of the bedroom with an unbearably smug look on her face, and Annika Hansen regarded it through bleary eyes, wondering what the punishment was for murdering one’s own self. Assisted suicide, perhaps? The scientist hadn’t caught a wink of sleep the previous evening, though she freely admitted that neither had her counterpart if the noise was any indication. The construction of the dividing walls in the complex was not as dense as a starship hull, and the unmistakable sounds that had wafted through them left little soubt as to what exactly had been going on for what seemed most of the night.

“Good morning,” the Borg said politely. Her voice was clipped and precise, Annika noted, even when expressing passion as she had at several intervals. Loudly. Annika would have sworn that she had even heard the sound of twisting metal on more than one occasion, though her imagination was simply not extensive enough to speculate on a cause for that.

“It’s morning,” Annika growled, “but it’s hardly a good one.”

Seven raised an eyebrow, regarding her quizzically. “Is there something wrong?”

“Besides being locked up with two cats in heat?” Annika said. “How about this stuff they call food.” She pushed irritably at the yellow mound on her plate, which apparently was supposed to be scrambled eggs.

Seven frowned briefly, scanned the buffet which had been delivered by two Starfleet ensigns earlier in the morning. There were a variety of foods offered, and plenty of each dish, but flavor was something that Starfleet did not deem particularly important.

“It is typical Starfleet issue,” the Borg noted. “Sufficient, if bland. It merely requires enhancement.”

Annika put down her fork and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest as she eyed the other woman dubiously. “Enhancement?”

Seven went over to the small, limited replicator where she programmed in several small containers filled with powders and herbs. Before Annika’s startled eyes, the Borg proceeded to combine them with the various dishes on the table, and within minutes, had replaced the plate in front of her with one of Seven’s own devising. Highly skeptical, Annika gingerly tried a bite, and was astonished at the flavors that exploded in her mouth.

“Oh, my god,” the scientist said. “What did you do? This is delicious.”

“Merely added certain spices,” Seven replied, looking at her oddly. “You do not cook?”

“What, you mean from scratch?” Annika stared at her blankly. “Are you a Traditionalist?”

Seven blinked. “I enjoy the preparation of food,” she said.

“And does it wonderfully,” Janeway interjected as she entered the room.

The captain’s hair was still damp from her shower, the compact figure moving alertly in the out-of-date uniform of black and red. She nodded politely at Annika as she took a seat at the table, tucking elegantly into the plate Seven placed in front of her.

Annika studied her surreptitiously, wondering at the enigma that the older woman presented. Captain Janeway was such a composed sort of woman, much like Commodore Johnson, radiating competence even while doing something so basic as eating. It was hard to believe this was the same woman who had rattled the rafters the night before with howls of the most obvious delight. Annika discovered she was smirking and forced herself to stop. Still, it would be interesting to know if this woman could be needled.

“Sleep well?” she said sweetly, regarding Janeway with what she hoped was polite interest, and nothing more.

Apparently she had underestimated the captain’s perception, because Janeway abruptly halted in mid-motion, fork halfway to her mouth, and seared the young woman with such a look that Annika thought she would probably explode into flames at any second. Blushing furiously, the scientist stammered, “I mean, I…not that I heard…I mean….” She took a breath. “I slept well,” she added brightly.

“That is incorrect,” Seven noted calmly from where she sat, consuming her own breakfast. “You indicated that we disturbed you greatly throughout the evening.”

Both Annika and Janeway stared at Seven who seemed to realize that the two other women thought that she was not supposed to have pointed that out. She raised an eyebrow at Janeway. “She did not,” she insisted somewhat defensively. “She compared us to ‘cats in heat’.”

Well, Annika thought, she might not be able to put a dent in Janeway, but her counterpart certainly could. The young physicist certainly had never seen Johnson blush that hard. Yet, the captain was remarkably composed as she turned to Annika, apparently having adapted to being put on the spot by Seven.

“I apologize if we made it difficult for you to sleep,” she said with incredible poise.

“Uh, no problem,” Annika said. She was about to say something else, but realized there was absolutely nothing she could comment on that would not sound absolutely stupid. She took a breath, and deliberately changed the subject. “Do you have any idea what we’re going to do to get you home?”

A shadow seemed to pass over the captain’s face, and Annika noted that Seven immediately reached out to put her fingers on Janeway’s arm. It was the Borg that answered. “We shall begin by assembling all the data the Federation and Starfleet has on alternate realities,” she said. “There have been other incidents in the past that could help us. In addition, we shall go over the turbolift where we first appeared in this universe.”

Annika nodded. “Sure,” she said. “There ought to be some sort of energy reading on the ship.”

“By adjusting the scanning capacity of the standard tricorders, we can allow for readings that do not normally register,” Seven went on.

“We can try this,” Annika added, pushing her plate to the side as she used the white tablecloth as a sketch padd to write out some equations, having fished a stylus from her lab coat pocket.

Before long, the two women were avidly exchanging possible avenues of exploration although Seven seemed a bit taken aback at Annika’s use of the table rather than a padd. However, she soon fell into the swing of things, adding several suggestions, then gingerly taking the graphite stick, and marking her own additions to the rapidly increasing scribbles.

When Annika looked up briefly at one point, she saw Janeway regarding her partner with an odd, yet recognizable expression on her face.

It was one of unmistakable pride, and completely unreserved adoration.

Janeway left the two Hansens deeply immersed, having moved their work over to the lab across the hall where the facility’s database could be brought in to bolster their equations. She was feeling a whole lot better about things as she entered the corridor, and wandered through the upper level of the base, exploring her surroundings, limited as they were. Seven and Annika seemed to have things well in hand, and it had been enlightening to see how the two fed off one another, pushing to come up with some new equation, some possible course of action. This could not help but be good for her partner, she decided … no matter what the outcome was.

It had been some time since she had been on Mars, though it had always been one of her favorite places, and Janeway decided to take the time to go for a walk on the surface. It had been the first place she had ever left Earth to visit, a trip with her father where she had been exposed to the world she would one day make her own … that of Starfleet.

Zefram Cochrane’s discovery of warp speed, and the subsequent arrival of Vulcans had propelled Earth into a technological renaissance that had eventually resulted in the creation of replicators and transporters. Terra-forming, which had been only theory before, became reality, and Humans eagerly adapted the planets where they had only possessed struggling colonies before. Mars had been the first, and now it held an atmosphere with freely flowing water, while its lighter gravity sent genetically altered foliage towering over the reddish soil.

This base, however, seemed to be in the more desolate region opposite Olympus Mons, the planet’s highest mountain which bordered the Mars colony. The area surrounding the station was devoid of plant life, hosting the jagged, rust-colored rock formations which were more true to the original character of the planet, than the manmade forests and plains on the other side of the mountain. Janeway recognized the depths of a quarry just beyond the base’s surrounding energized fence, and realized it was an extension of the same network of mining tunnels and craters that she had dived in when she was much younger. She smiled as she remembered her introduction to a unique individual on that first trip, an Academy cadet who had shown her around while her father went off on one of his interminable meetings with the Starfleet brass. An android who showed no annoyance or impatience with the hundreds of questions the young Kathryn had been full of.

She wondered what Commander Data was doing now … in either universe?

She asked the computer where her counterpart’s office was, deciding that if it were at all possible, she would try to lure Johnson into taking the walk with her. Perhaps she could even convince her to go diving in the quarry, offering her other self an opportunity for a bit of relaxation. Though Janeway fully realized that she was not the easiest person to coax into taking time off, she sensed that Johnson was in desperate need of some sort of break. If nothing else, the captain should know the proper argument to make the commodore agree.

The office was empty, and she decided to wait a little bit, making herself comfortable on the couch placed under the large windows of transparent aluminum which looked out onto the rugged, rusty rock formations of the red planet. The office was decorated much as she had done her ready room on Voyager, and Janeway smiled as she saw the small bust of da Vinci on the large desk which dominated the room. The scarred, wooden furniture was ancient, actually made of real oak, and her breath caught as she realized where she had seen it before. In Admiral Owen Paris’s office on Earth years and years ago while a Starfleet cadet. She wondered if, in this reality, Tom and his father had ever made their peace, and how Owen had reacted to having a Klingon daughter-in-law. Hopefully a lot better than he and B’Elanna had interacted in her own.

Her eyes tracked the bluish spark on the horizon before she realized what she was doing, and she was struck by a strong sense of homesickness. Her mother was on Earth right now, she thought, while her sister, Phoebe was probably hard at work on her next showing. Both so very, very close, merely a few hours away by shuttle.

And an entire universe away, she reminded herself. This was not her Earth, not her mother and sister.

That did not ease the ache inside her, however. She rested her chin on her palm and stared at that bluish light longingly, wondering when she would ever see her own Earth again. The sound of the door opening drew her from her musing, and she stood up expecting her counterpart only to be surprised at seeing the man standing in the doorway. He was certainly not the commodore, but remained excruciatingly familiar, nonetheless.

Oh dear, she thought. He hasn’t changed a bit.

“Kathryn?” he said, striding across the room, and before she could stop him, Mark Johnson swept her up in his arms and kissed her soundly.

And just for an instant … because she had once loved this man deeply and totally, believing that she would spend the rest of her life with him … she returned the kiss eagerly, her arms wrapped around his strong shoulders, losing herself in his embrace. Yet, even as she did, she knew it was wrong, that it was not an embrace that belonged to her, not a touch that she needed or wanted, not a kiss that filled her senses, and made her head spin, and poured complete and utter love into her like a draught from the purest spring of sweet water. It wasn’t tender enough, it wasn’t consuming enough, and it certainly wasn’t as focused as Seven’s most distracted kiss was.

She pushed him away gently, looking up into his familiar face with a warm fondness, but nothing more. Her heart belonged elsewhere, regardless of the fact this wasn’t her Mark, anyway.

He smiled wanly down at her. “I’m glad I caught you in,” he said. He frowned as he looked at her uniform. “When did Starfleet go back to these?”

“They didn’t,” she responded honestly. She hesitated, trying to figure out how to tell him who she was, or even if she should. After all, their presence on the base was supposed to be classified. Then, she realized that he wasn’t even really paying attention to her, having moved away to stare out the windows, shoulders set stiffly beneath his tunic.

“I’m sorry, Kathryn,” he said in a dead tone. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. That was deceptive.”

Oh boy. Janeway was struck by a sudden foreboding, not for herself, but for her counterpart.

“Uh, listen, Mark, we need to discuss something,” she said quietly.

“I know,” he said, and his voice was strained, bleak as he searched for words. “Kathryn, it’s over.”

Janeway blinked. For a second, she didn’t quite know what he was talking about.

“Mark, wait, you don’t want to do this now,” she offered desperately as enlightenment dawned.

He turned to her, face etched with despair. “We could wait until the term is up,” he said sadly. “That’s what I intended … and we both knew it was only a matter of waiting it out. But something’s happened, Kathryn. I didn’t mean for it to, I never went looking for it, but it did. I’m so sorry.”

Janeway searched frantically for a way out of this predicament. As a civilian, he could not know she wasn’t the commodore, that there had been a breach in the realities. Starfleet would have to take him into custody, and for all she knew, he might even end up in the same suite that she, Seven and Dr. Hansen were already sharing. That would be all she needed to put a decided crimp into her love life, and the thought of Seven’s possible reaction to Mark’s presence actually chilled her. Yet, she wasn’t the Kathryn he should be telling these things to. That dubious honor belonged to her counterpart.

She felt her frustration turn to annoyance. Honestly, was he completely obtuse? How could he not see that not only was she wearing an older type uniform, but she was also carrying the pips of a captain?

“Kathryn, have you been demoted?” he asked suddenly.

Okay, so he wasn’t completely obtuse.

“Oh, god, you already know about Melissa, don’t you?” he said with a touch of anger. “You’ve accepted a demotion so that you can go back out there, back to where you belong.”

“Where I belong?” Janeway was frantically scrambling to catch up at this point.

“Out there,” he said, waving his arm in the general direction of the windows, and the blackness of space beyond. There was bitterness in his face. “I never asked you to give that up. That was your choice. In fact, I wish you hadn’t. Then maybe you wouldn’t have felt like you were the martyr, that you had made all the sacrifices in this marriage.”

Janeway blinked. She had no response to that, not only because she wasn’t the one who had sacrificed, but also because she doubted that Johnson would have felt that way either. When Janeway made a decision, she stuck by it with no regrets and no backtracking. That’s what being a captain was all about. Janeway didn’t think her counterpart would be any different.

She held up her hands, seeking a little clarification into what was rapidly deteriorating into a total mass of confusion. “Mark, are you saying that your relationship with Melissa Bell … whatever … has progressed beyond friendship?”

He took a breath, staring at her. “She’s pregnant,” he said quietly. “There was a mixup with the bio-inhibiter … but, I take full responsibility, Kathryn.”

“Oh, good god,” Janeway said with utter disgust. In this day and age, no one got pregnant unless they wanted to which meant this had been planned. Though, she admitted, possibly not by Mark, though he certainly seemed ready, and even eager, to accept responsibility for it. Good old Hobbes, upstanding, forthright, and apparently, couldn’t keep his pants on long enough to allow the marriage term to run out.

“I know you didn’t want children,” he said. “At the time, I agreed, but now, I find I don’t want anything else. I’m sorry Kathryn. I’m going to dissolve the contract, and marry Melissa. We need to raise our son together.”

“Well, that’s probably a good idea,” Janeway responded lamely. She gazed at the man in front of her, and wondered what she should do now. She had a hard time seeing the man she had once loved in this person.

But you did love him once, her little voice reminded her. Sometimes things just happen … in every reality. Unfortunately, I’m betting you’re the one who has to break it to the commodore.

“I’m sorry, Kathryn,” he said again, and walked out of the office.

And out of the commodore’s life, Janeway thought. What an absolute, unmitigated mess.

Seven of Nine glanced at her counterpart out of the corner of her eye. Though Annika Hansen was fairly disorganized, there was no question she was brilliant. Some of these equations were beyond even Seven’s experience to recognize, though once they were explained to her, she understood what they meant. Slowly her initial disdain for the woman was being replaced with an appreciation and respect. She wondered if this was what the Borg Collective had taken from her by their assimilation, the innate ability to instinctively grasp a scientific situation, to create a solution out of thin air from sheer inspiration alone, rather than from accessing data and extrapolating conclusions based on it.

She was very good at the latter, she knew. She could not remember ever experiencing the former.

“Hey, Seven?”

“Yes?” She raised an eyebrow as she gave Annika her full attention.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

“You may,” Seven allowed.

“You know, you talk like a computer,” Annika said, shaking her head. “Or a Vulcan. Where’d you pick that up?”

“The Borg appreciate precision,” Seven responded. “As do I. Was that the question?”

“Uh, no,” Annika said. She dipped her head, a faint blush coloring her pale features. “That sound I heard last night. Several times. Sort of a cross between a moan and … well, a cry of astonishment. What exactly is she doing to you at that moment?”

Seven hesitated. In truth, Janeway generated that sound from her in a variety of ways, none of which could be explained in a very concise fashion.

“Loving me,” she said finally, simply.

The look she received from Annika was one of pure envy.

“Have you no one?” Seven asked after a moment.

Annika looked away, toying with her stylus. “There have been a few people,” she said slowly. “At school, then here, on the project.” She shrugged. “No one that ever looked at me the same way Janeway looks at you.”

Seven considered that. “Unfortunate,” she allowed. To her surprise, she did feel a real empathy for her counterpart, truly sorry that Annika did not have the same special love supporting her, surrounding her, making her more than just intellect.

“Yeah,” Annika said in quiet agreement.

They looked up as the doors slid open, and Janeway entered. Seven knew instantly that something was wrong, and she quickly went over to greet her. “What has happened?” she asked anxiously.

Janeway hesitated, looked at Annika who abruptly started, standing up uncertainly.

“Uh, I have to go…” the young woman said awkwardly. “Do something in the suite.”

Seven stared at her. Was this how she looked when she attempted to be discrete? She couldn’t possibly be that bad, could she?

Janeway waved it away. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’m sure if this base is anything like a starship, it’ll get around quick enough. I just have to make sure I get to the commodore first.”

“What is it?” Seven queried.

“I just saw Mark Johnson,” Janeway said.

Seven felt a sudden sinking sensation in her chest, though she knew that she should not. Janeway loved her. She did not love Mark any longer. Kathryn had told her this, but still….

“And?”

“He dumped me,” Janeway said wryly. “Again.”

“I don’t understand,” Annika said. “Isn’t Mark Johnson the commodore’s husband? Why would he dump you?”

“Because he thought I was his wife,” Janeway clarified.

There was a pause as that sunk in.

“Oh boy,” Annika breathed. “The bastard.”

Seven blinked, startled at the venom in the tone, looking askance at her counterpart before focusing on her partner. “You must tell her,” she insisted.

“I know, but I can’t find her,” Janeway said. “She’s nowhere on the base.”

“She’s in the caves,” Annika said suddenly.

Together, Seven and Janeway looked at her, and Annika squirmed slightly. “It’s where she goes to be alone,” she explained.

“How do you know this?” Janeway asked curiously.

Annika developed an intense interest in the deck. “I followed her once,” she admitted. “I was curious. She never saw me and I didn’t go in the water. Mostly because I hadn’t brought any equipment along.”

“God, no wonder you get along with B’Elanna,” Janeway said, shooting an admonishing glance at Seven, though the Borg had no idea what she had done to deserve such a look. “You’re all too inquisitive for your own good.”

“Do you want me to take you there?” Annika asked eagerly. “I can show you where they are.”

Janeway shook her head. “No, if it’s the caves, then I know exactly where she is,” the captain said thoughtfully. She smiled briefly. “Anyway, it’ll be fun to do a little diving again.”

A qualm shot through Seven as she remembered which caves they were talking about, the ones Kathryn had once told her about. “This is dangerous,” she said worriedly.

“I’ll be fine,” Janeway assured her, putting a hand on Seven’s forearm. “You don’t want to deny me the chance to go diving in the caves again, do you?”

She gave her the ‘look’, the soft expression that Janeway called her ‘puppy dog’ gaze, with the velvet blue eyes and the gentle tremor to her lip. The one Seven could not resist in the slightest, though she was fairly disgruntled that Janeway would pull it on her now. Nor could she figure out why she would in front of another person. It was very unlike the captain.

“You will be careful,” Seven said, a statement, not a question.

“I promise,” Janeway said with that half-grin on her face, then to Seven’s considerable surprise, the captain reached up and cupped her face in her palms, drawing her face down for a long kiss. “I’ll be back this evening,” she murmured against her lips.

Shaken by the intensity of the kiss, and the sheer unexpectedness of it, Seven could only watch as Janeway disappeared out the door. She frowned briefly, then looked at Annika who was looking at her with an envious expression.

“Yeow,” the young woman said. “Maybe I’ve been looking at Johnson all wrong, after all.”

Seven suddenly realized what her partner was up to.

Janeway pulled herself from the crystal clear water, breathing heavily in the still air of the cavern. She was out of shape, she decided as she slipped off her fins, and shrugged out of the breathing apparatus. Despite the planet’s lesser gravity, it had been almost a decade since she had been diving, and muscles not otherwise utilized were already sending up a protest to her brain at abruptly being put in service again. Yet, she couldn’t deny that it had been an exhilarating experience to once again penetrate the submerged tunnels and caverns of the Mars interior, retracing the familiar path that led to this cavern where she had once discovered a fossil, resulting in her name being recorded in the history archives. She wondered if she would ever do anything else as scientifically significant as that single discovery when she was barely out of her teens.

She clicked off her wrist light, and gazed around in the sudden blackness that descended upon her with all the weight of the stone pressing over her. There, she noted. A spark of flickering firelight. Leaving her equipment near the side of the pool, she walked toward it.

Johnson sat next to the flame, regarding her approach without expression, as if having expected her. She was dressed in her diving outfit, black with bright yellow bands down the sides, and her hair was loose, hanging down over her shoulders in a glorious auburn tangle.

“I suppose you know this place as well as I do,” she said calmly as Janeway hesitated uncertainly, just inside the glowing circle of golden light.

“I needed to speak with you,” Janeway said delicately. “May I sit down?”

A faint smile ghosted over Johnson’s face. “I certainly can’t begrudge you,” she said. “It must be some time since you’ve had the opportunity to be here.”

“More years than I care to think about,” Janeway agreed, sitting down on the soft Martian sand, the rusty granules providing a comfortable cushion for her. “However, I’m here for another reason. I was told that this is a place you come to when you want to be alone, and honestly, I wouldn’t have disturbed you if it weren’t important.”

Johnson looked vaguely surprised. “I didn’t think anyone knew about this place,” she said.

Janeway let that one pass. For now. “I went to your office, and while I was waiting for you, I had a visitor,” she said, getting down to business.

Something flickered in her counterpart’s face, too quickly for Kathryn to identify it. “Indeed,” Johnson said. “Dare I guess?”

“It was Mark,” Janeway said. She hesitated, tried to figure out a gentle way to say it. “He thought I was you. Apparently, Melissa Bell…er, Bellknocker … is pregnant.”

The silence was total, the only sound that of the flames snapping as they consumed the lichens that fed them. The fungus grew in profusion about the caverns, this world’s version of organic fuel, and it gave off the fragrance of sandalwood as it burned. Janeway was very aware of the spicy aroma as she regarded her other, thinking she probably could have found a way to break it a little easier. Yet, if it had been her, she would have preferred the news flat out, giving her a chance to deal with it and move on.

“I see,” Johnson said finally, and it was clear that she did.

“I’m sorry,” Janeway said lamely, wishing she knew what to do now. Should she leave her counterpart alone? Or should she stay, offer what comfort she could. She couldn’t remember how it felt to be in this position. She was the one who had dumped Cheb Packer, and Justin Tighe had died. When she had received the letter from her Mark Johnson, he had already been a figure of her past, distanced by time and space. It had hurt, but not as it would, had the two situations been more similar, had the loss been more immediate.

Johnson was looking away, chin on her palm, moisture glinting in her eyes. “I guess that makes it final, doesn’t it?” she asked idly.

Janeway nodded. That was what hurt, she remembered. The finality of it, the knowledge that she would no longer have him in her life, no longer be a part of his. “He’s dissolving the term agreement,” she added softly.

Johnson nodded. “I won’t fight it,” she said. “I guess I knew it was coming.”

She covered her face with her hand, and a sob shook her. Janeway did not think, she simply crossed the space between them instantly, wrapping the other up in her arms, embracing her counterpart tightly as she wept. She thought that this should feel a little odder, that this in fact, was herself she was holding, but it did not. Rather, she was aware that this entity was separate and distinct from herself, a different person altogether. A person who was in pain and needed help, someone that Janeway cared enough about to want to make it better somehow, even as she knew she couldn’t.

She was struck by the sense that only her presence was tolerable at this time. No one else could have offered any comfort to her intensely private other self, no one else could have granted a shoulder to accept that helpless weeping. For that reason alone, she was very glad that she had somehow been brought here to this universe.

“I look terrible when I cry,” Johnson said irrelevantly after awhile.

“I know,” Janeway replied dryly.

Johnson was startled into a brief bark of laughter. She pulled away from the captain’s comforting embrace, and wiped at her face with her sleeve. “God, do you know how long it’s been since I laughed?”

Janeway shrugged, keeping a hand resting lightly on the other’s shoulder. “Probably just as long as it’s been since you’ve cried?” she asked, not expecting an answer.

Johnson took a breath. “It was never right,” she said wistfully. “I shouldn’t have married him. I was just trying to recapture what I had before Voyager got lost. Maybe he was, as well.”

Janeway stared unseeingly into the dark beyond the fire’s light. “I know I am not the same person now that I was then,” she offered slowly. “What happened in the Delta Quadrant made me understand that command was what I was meant to do. It’s something I’ve only truly realized in the last year.” She paused. “My destiny is to command starships. I am fortunate that I have someone who is willing to stay with me while I pursue that.”

“I guess I didn’t pay attention to what I learned out there,” Johnson said. “Or that I missed out on the really important lessons.” She shook her head. “I hate what I’ve become.”

“Then change it,” Janeway said simply.

Johnson smiled crookedly. “Guess there’s no reason not to, now,” she agreed. She tossed a few more chunks of Martian fungus into the fire, then glanced sideways at Janeway. “Why Seven?”

Janeway supposed that was fair. She had just seen her other self at her most vulnerable. She owed Johnson something in exchange, and if that meant speaking of her most intimate feelings for her partner, then it was the least she could do.

“She lets me be who I need to be,” Janeway said finally, after considering her answer carefully. “In fact, she demands it. She challenged me from the first moment we met, disregarded the rank, and made me react as myself no matter how much I tried to react as a captain. She questioned me, argued with me, forced me to take another look at things that I thought I understood. When I received the letter from Mark, I realized I had been using him as an excuse not to … get involved with anyone else, not to look at other possibilities. Thank god Seven made herself one.”

“She pursued you?” Johnson asked curiously.

“Let’s just say I bumbled around the subject until she had to take matters into her own hands,” Janeway said with a wry grin, remembering the night she had returned to her quarters to find Seven in her bed, awaiting her arrival with the same concentration and focus that she brought to everything else. “We’ve had a few bumps, but we always seem to make it back to each other in one piece. I believe in her in a way that I have never believed in anyone else.”

“I envy you,” Johnson said simply, honestly.

“Don’t,” Janeway said. “You too, have possibilities … if only you’d look for them.”

Johnson frowned briefly. “What do you mean?” she asked.

Janeway stifled a smile. There was a reason Annika Hansen made a point to know where Johnson went to be alone, and the captain believed there was far too much antagonism between the two to spring from mere incompatibility. Possibly frustrated attraction? In any event, both were now free to see where things led. Janeway had discovered that since falling in love with Seven, she was a bit of a matchmaker, wanting others to experience the same happiness she did. Whether there was a match to be made here was uncertain, but she could try.

“Sometimes there’s an opportunity right in front of you,” she said enigmatically. “One that’s been overlooked when the rest of your life seems so complicated.”

Johnson held up a hand. “I just had one relationship fall apart, I don’t even want to think about another,” she said sadly.

Janeway shrugged. “Just don’t lose the chance because you think it shouldn’t be,” she advised. “The fact is, I think your relationship with Mark was over long ago, this just made you both face that. Now you’re free to look elsewhere. Don’t waste it.”

Johnson just stared at her and Janeway realized she was pressing a bit hard. She smiled and squeezed the shoulder beneath the diving outfit. “I think I’ll look around a little,” she said. “Who knows when I’ll get the chance to be here again.”

She stood up and flicked on her wrist lamp, leaving the fire behind. She did not have to look back to realize she had left both confusion and consternation in her wake.

Lt. Harry Kim stumbled a bit as he stepped forward, and he looked back to see the rip in the fabric of dimensional space mend itself up behind him. He didn’t know what universe he was in, but he knew that wherever it was, he wouldn’t be leaving for at least another two days. That was how long it would take for the device he and B’Elanna had built to recharge from the anomaly. Taking a breath, he looked around uncertainly, raising his arm to allow his wrist beam to splash light about his general vicinity.

It was just like the lab he had so recently been in, except this one was not clean and sparkling, nor did it have the huge piece of machinery they had constructed to open the portal. The deck was covered with debris, and dust liberally coated the consoles and tables that remained. It looked as if it had been abandoned long ago, and he frowned as he studied his surroundings. If he wasn’t mistaken, this was indeed Voyager, but it was clear that there were no life signs in his immediate area. He raised his tricorder, turning in a slow circle. The ship was reading minimum energy, and no active life support. Could the captain and Seven have survived this long?

Not here, he determined after checking his readings. There was only enough atmosphere for a few hours, and the fact that it still remained meant that the two women had probably left before it had been used up. Where that was exactly remained to be seen. He decided to check out the bridge, figuring correctly that it would be where the captain would have headed upon her own arrival.

Had she been able, he thought dismally. It was entirely possible that the two women had died and their bodies were moldering in the turbolift. He didn’t want to consider that possibility at all.

The thin whine of transporters startled him, and he whirled, surprised to see the forms of several beings in Starfleet environmental suits materialize around him. He stared at them, trying to see through the glass front of the helmets, unable to pierce the shadows because of the way the light reflected.

“For crying out loud,” one said, in utter disgust, an unfamiliar male voice. No one Harry recognized. “What the hell is this, Starfleet Central? How many of you are going to show up, anyway?”

Harry felt a grin cross his face as the import of that sunk in. He wasn’t the first. “Are you telling me that there have been others?” he asked. “Was it two women, one in a captain’s uniform, the other….”

“Built like a wet dream?” one of the others blurted.

Harry relaxed. That was Seven all right. “Where are they?”

“Not far, Mister,” the first one said. He gestured with his rifle, and only then did Harry realize they were flanking him as if he were a threat of some sort. “Come on. Commodore Johnson can deal with you, too.”

Harry frowned as he was taken into custody, relieved of his equipment, and transported off the ship. When they had first opened the portal to the other universe, it had been to glimpse the dirty lab which mirrored their own. B’Elanna had offered the theory that it was Voyager, but perhaps abandoned in order to colonize a planet or transfer to another vessel. Then the portal had started to collapse, and before anyone else could react, Harry had scooped up a wrist beam, a phaser and a tricorder, leaping through the opening as he heard the protesting howls of both B’Elanna and Chakotay ringing in his ears.

Harry knew it was completely uncharacteristic of him. He had always followed the rules, done what he was supposed to do, accepted whatever happened to him. In truth, however, he had been chafing under that self-imposed restriction for some time. He had watched others in the crew boldly seize opportunities to rule the day and emerge triumphant. He knew, without a doubt that he had been offered chances to change his life, opportunities to make a difference somehow, and had been too timid, too hesitant about accepting the offer, losing out in the end.

He was sure that was why Seven was with the captain now, instead of him. If he had been a little more assertive in the beginning, a little less afraid of what might happen, perhaps he would have been the one the Borg had been attracted to, would have loved. Perhaps he would be more than just good old Harry Kim, dependable operations officer who never ever did anything glorious or outrageous. In that instant, seeing the portal start to collapse, it had come to him in a flash of clarity what he had to do.

No more staid, safe Harry Kim. He was going to be an adventurer, a swashbuckler, more like Tom or Chakotay or even the captain herself. The ones who always got the girls and commanded admiration just by walking into a room.

He wished it were warmer.

He had developed a chill on the ship devoid of life support systems, and the heat of the base which materialized around him hit like a blast furnace. He frowned as he looked around at the unmistakable Federation architecture. He had assumed when he saw the other Voyager that it had also been in the Delta Quadrant. Now he was not so sure. He did not recognize any of the people who came to take him from the suited team on the transporter pad. The uniforms were different from his own, black with blue-grey shoulders, the sweaters underneath displaying the colors of the various sections.

They marched him to an office deep in the complex which was filled with strangers, primarily Human though he had seen Vulcans, Bolians, and a few other species. Apparently, he was now back in the Alpha Quadrant, and he tried to resist the sense of exhilaration. After all, this was not his universe, though of course, the last one wasn’t exactly his universe either. He was still startled however, when a glimpse outside a few display windows in one corridor revealed a rusty surface which he quickly identified as Mars.

Confused, he kept his mouth shut, waiting to see where he was to be taken. When they deposited him into a lavishly appointed office, and the familiar figure stood up behind the large desk, he felt his face break out into a beaming grin.

“Captain,” he said.

“Harry Kim,” she responded. “My god, it’s really you.”

To his surprise, she flung her arms around him and hugged him tightly. Awkwardly, he returned the hug, patting her back clumsily. He had hoped she would be glad rather than angry to see him but he certainly hadn’t imagined this. She grasped his arms when the hug ended, raking him up and down with the familiar look that always made him feel the way he had when he first stood in her ready room those years ago, and was told that ‘Sir’ was unacceptable and ‘Captain’ would be expected.

Except, this wasn’t the captain.

Belatedly, he realized she was dressed in the same uniform as the others had been, and the insignia on her collar … his eyes widened and he straightened, painfully aware of his uniform which was stained and rumpled from hours of working with B’Elanna on the trans-dimensional device.

“Commodore,” he amended crisply.

So this was the ‘Johnson’ his captors had been talking about. Lt. Kim was somewhat slow compared to the innate brilliance of B’Elanna or Seven, but he was not stupid. This must be the captain’s counterpart. He wondered why the name was different.

“Lieutenant, is it?” she said softly, an oddly gentle expression in her face. “I should have granted my Harry that respect.”

“I guess you know why I’m here,” he offered.

“Oh yes,” she said, beaming at him. She couldn’t seem to get enough of looking at him, and he was disconcerted by it. He hadn’t realized that Janeway was so fond of him. Or maybe it was only in this universe. “You’re here to retrieve your captain and Seven of Nine. You discovered a way through from your universe.”

He nodded. No need to go into details. “The portal was opened briefly,” he said. “It will be open again in two days. We’ll need to be there in the engineering lab on Voyager when it does because it won’t stay open long. The power drain is tremendous.”

At least, he hoped it would be opened. He could not believe that B’Elanna would be unable to find a way to recharge the device and hold the portal open. As a matter of fact, knowing her as he did, she’d probably improve it between now and then, and increase the time the portal could remain open.

The commodore nodded briskly. “I suppose I should take you to the others and let them know they don’t have to work so hard at finding a way back any longer.”

He glanced at her sideways as she led him back out into the complex. He noted that her hair was done up, and he wondered how he could have missed it when he first walked into the office. The walk, however, and the manner, were exactly the same, barely contained power and energy that kept everyone around her on their toes.

“So,” he said jovially. “You’re a commodore. What am I, now? At least, a lieutenant commander, right?”

She didn’t answer right away, and he looked at her, a sinking feeling in his chest as he saw the shadow cross her face. “Or do I want to know?” he added weakly.

“Harry Kim was a fine officer,” she said softly. “Who gave his life in the service of his vessel.”

“Oh,” he mumbled. “Sorry, I asked.”

He wondered if he could feel any more stupid than he did at that moment. Then, he walked into the lab and saw the two women standing by the console. On the right was his fantasy, the woman who haunted his dreams, remote, aloof, and completely out of reach now that she was with the captain. On the left….

Harry felt his tongue cleave to the roof of his mouth, the blood thundering in his ears like an unchecked warp core.

“Harry Kim,” Seven of Nine said, with decided pleasure as she looked at him. “Obviously you have found a way to this dimension.”

“Nuhh,” he answered brilliantly, not even looking at his crewmate. Instead, he found himself staring helplessly at the other woman, the tall blonde who looked back with the open friendliness in her features, through warm, clear eyes and a quizzical smile.

Seven, yes, but as she could have been. Annika Hansen. Not a Borg, not the figure of mystery and unapproachable coolness, but a woman not much older than he, real and warm, and standing only a few feet away from him.

“Seven’s told me about you, and the rest of Voyager’s crew,” she was saying, reaching out to shake his hand, pumping it up and down. It lay in her grasp like a fish, limp and unresponsive. She glanced worriedly at Seven. “Is he all right?”

Oh god, please don’t say anything, Seven, he begged silently as he tried to get his mind and his mouth to work. Please don’t dissect me with that Borg logic, and lay out all my failings in front of this woman with concise and unfailing analytical precision. Don’t blow my chance before I even get started. Let me do that myself if that’s how it has to be.

He never knew if Seven heard his silent plea. All he knew was that Seven regarded him with a slight tilt to her head, and a faint smile.

“Perhaps there was a lingering after effect to his entering this dimension,” the Borg offered. “We also experienced a certain disorientation when we arrived. I believe it was a courageous thing on your part, Lt. Kim, to attempt to rescue us without knowing what you could face in this dimension.”

Considerably stupid as well, but to Harry’s eternal gratitude, she didn’t add that part. He was both amazed and considerably gratified to hear the Borg singing his praises, though he wasn’t entirely sure why.

“Of course,” Annika said, suddenly concerned. She grabbed a chair from nearby, and scooted it under him. “Good god, man, have a seat.”

Bemused, he did, sinking into it with a glance at Seven who looked vaguely amused.

“Are you the only one who came through?” the Borg asked. More in hopes of getting him speaking intelligently than anything else, he suspected. Certainly she could assume that he was alone since there was no one with him from Voyager.

“Yes,” he said, taking the glass of water that Annika handed to him, and smiling at her. “Thank you,” he said, proud that he was now sounding somewhat more coherent.

“No problem,” the fully Human woman said. “How did you manage to get over here?” She frowned suddenly. “It wasn’t an accident, was it? Like Seven’s?”

Feeling more comfortable, he shrugged with what he hoped was careless competence. “No, I intended to come here, though it wasn’t easy,” he admitted. “I had to determine the exact energy resonance of the anomaly wave which had originally struck the ship. Then I had to construct a device that would replicate it, thereby opening a hole to this Voyager, and hopefully the correct universe.”

“Lt. Kim is quite intelligent when it comes to quantum physics,” Seven offered dryly, no doubt noting the ‘I’ as opposed to the ‘we’ when he was explaining. “Our chief engineer has often said that she wouldn’t know what to do without him.”

That was so blatantly a falsehood that he could only stare at her … and blush furiously, aware that she realized that, of course, B’Elanna had built the actual device. Theory was his forte, Torres was the one who knew how to make theories become functioning reality. In fact, when he and Seven had constructed the astrometrics lab, he had been responsible for the concept, the theoretical application. The Borg had done most of the actual construction. He didn’t think most people knew that. He wasn’t bad with a spanner necessarily, just not as good as others.

“How do you know this is the correct universe?” the commodore asked idly.

He froze, considering that. “I guess I don’t,” he admitted. He looked at her. “Some things you have to take on faith.”

She nodded. “Just so,” she said, and there was approval in her voice.

He frowned. “The captain?”

“Captain Janeway is on her way,” Commodore Johnson said. “I contacted her and told her she had a visitor. She was over in the library, catching up on some research. I didn’t tell her who it was. I wanted to surprise her.”

Harry gulped. Well, he had no doubt that she would be surprised. Especially when he told her how he had gotten here … and that it hadn’t exactly been authorized by Chakotay.

Captain Kathryn Janeway eyed her operation’s officer with a combination of disbelief and outrage. “You’re telling me you had no authorization for what you did,” she said.

“No, Captain,” Harry Kim said, staring straight ahead, at full attention.

She circled him like a predator, raking him up and down with a look that had set far better people than him to stammering and flushing. She was pleased to see that he did not. His shoulders were square, his gaze level, his jaw set firm.

“You realize this is a violation of protocol that could be considered a court martial offense,” she said, her voice at its lowest register.

“Yes, Captain, I do,” he said crisply.

She paused in front of him, staring into his face, head tilted back a little. “Do you have anything to say in your own defense?” she asked.

“Only that I felt it was the right thing for me to do, Captain,” he said. He paused. “And that I would do exactly the same thing again,” he added.

She frowned. “I see,” she said. “You have no regrets?”

“No, ma’am,” he said. His back seemed to stiffen though she could not see how he managed to get it any straighter. “I fully understand the seriousness of my decision, and I accept full responsibility for my actions.”

She nodded. “Very well,” she said. “I will be placing a reprimand in your file when we return for disobeying protocol and failing to receive proper authorization prior to acting.”

“Yes ma’am,” Harry Kim said. He managed not to flinch.

“As well as a commendation for your bravery and initiative,” she added.

It was a moment before that sank in and his eyes glowed. “Yes, CAPTAIN,” he said.

“Dismissed,” she concluded formally.

She held back the smile until he had turned and left the suite, then allowed it to spread over her face. Perhaps there was hope for young Mr. Kim yet. He was finally growing into the officer she always knew he could be, and the fact that he was now at the level where he was prepared to take the initiative, as well as the courage to accept the consequences of his actions, was very heartening to her. She crossed her arms over her chest and regarded the deck thoughtfully, remembering the young ensign fresh out of the Academy, his uncertainty and his desire to fit in, his need to discover his niche within Voyager’s crew.

She supposed she could have mentioned that Chakotay may have a few things to say to him once he got back, but she was sure he knew that, and was prepared to handle it. She looked up as the door slid open, and Seven of Nine entered the suite.

The Borg raised an eyebrow at her partner. “You did not punish him?” she said.

“What makes you say that?” Janeway asked curiously.

“He was too … cheerful, when he came into the lab,” Seven explained. “Not as he would have been had you punished him.”

“Actually, I will be placing a reprimand in his permanent record, as well as a commendation,” Janeway replied mildly.

“Indeed,” Seven said, frowning. “Is that not a contradiction?”

Janeway shook her head. “Not really,” she said with a smile. “It’s possible to be rewarded and punished for the same actions.”

“I see,” Seven said in the tone that indicated she didn’t at all but wasn’t really interested enough to pursue it. “Do I have a record?”

Janeway smiled at the phrase which tended to have a different meaning when asked in that tone. “You certainly should,” she said in a faintly teasing tone. “But you’re not in Starfleet. However, if you were, your record would have gotten you busted back to ensign a hundred times over.”

Seven did not look chastised in the slightest. “What does your record look like?” she countered innocently.

“I don’t even want to think about it,” Janeway said, grinning wryly. She wondered if Starfleet had promoted her counterpart simply because they didn’t know what else to do with her, and sticking her in a desk job close to Earth was the best solution they could come up with. She also wondered if that’s what she had to expect when she finally returned to Earth, or if her brass would go as easy on her.

Seven took a few steps closer until she was a mere breath away, the warmth of her body radiating to surround Janeway with a unmistakable feeling of love, yet the Borg did not touch her. Janeway took the initiative, knowing that recent events had Seven confused by how much affection she could show and when. The captain wrapped her arms around the slender waist and rested her chin on the narrow shoulder, immediately embraced in return.

“We will be returning soon,” Seven assured her, misunderstanding her hug.

“I know,” Janeway said and smiled, snuggling deeper into the woman’s arms, kissing the warm line of neck. “I’m just glad you were here with me.”

“I am, as well,” Seven said. She tightened her hold a little. “Do you wish to go into the bedroom?”

Janeway laughed. “Not right now, sweetheart,” she said, a bit wistfully. “There’s no way of knowing when the others will return. Even if I managed to get by that first night with Dr. Hansen in the room next to us, there’s no way I’m going to be comfortable with the idea of Harry Kim possibly walking in and hearing us.”

“Unfortunate,” Seven murmured, nuzzling the auburn hair as she allowed her hands to roam a little. “However, we shall be in our own, soundproofed quarters soon enough.”

“I’m counting on that,” Janeway responded, raising her face to be kissed which Seven obligingly did with great thoroughness.

“Don’t you two ever stop?” a throaty voice offered several minutes later.

“Why would we want to?” Seven asked in honest confusion as she released Janeway, and looked at Commodore Johnson who had entered the suite unannounced.

The commodore made a face, a mix of amusement and rueful agreement. “Good point,” she said.

Janeway took a breath, composing herself, then looked directly at her counterpart. “You wanted to see us?” she asked dryly. She refused to be embarrassed at being caught sharing affection with her partner.

Johnson eyed her tolerantly as she sank gracefully onto the couch, smiling at her. “I just wanted to let you know that Voyager … my Voyager … has had a life support unit placed on deck 12, and that Starfleet Command has instructed me to monitor every second of your return, for future study.”

“Is that wise?” Janeway asked, taking a seat on the chair. She was aware of Seven perching herself on the armrest next to her, laying an arm along the back and around the captain’s shoulders. She did not motion for her partner to retreat, rather enjoying her closeness.

“We like to have as much knowledge as possible about everything,” Johnson said, and for a second, there was a bit of steel in her tone. It occurred to Janeway that her counterpart had become a great deal more ingrained with Starfleet rules and regulations than she had. Or was that Seven’s influence working on her again? “In the meantime, there is the question of the nanoprobes,” she added with little delicacy.

Janeway felt a flicker of anger. “You didn’t help us get back to our own universe,” she said coolly. “That was my own crew’s accomplishment.”

To her surprise, she felt Seven’s hand close on her shoulder and squeeze admonishingly.

“However, in the interest of keeping the Federations safe,” Janeway added smoothly, if a touch belatedly. “I have created the schematics for creating the nanoprobes. They’re in the computer base under our old Academy code.”

“I have also provided a sampling of my own nanoprobes to Dr. Hansen,” Seven offered evenly. “So that a step shall be saved in the development.”

“Thank you,” Johnson said, and she truly did look grateful. Janeway felt a moment of shame at her prickliness.

The captain of Voyager leaned back in her chair, shifting slightly under the comforting arm of her lover. By this time tomorrow, they would be back in their own universe.

Where they belonged.

Voyager’s engineering lab was considerably cleaner than when Harry had been there last, he noticed, not to mention a good deal warmer. A life support unit had been installed on this deck, and the Starfleet of this universe had filled it with equipment and monitoring devices in preparation of their return. Dr. Hansen, although a civilian, had been invited to witness the entire exchange, and the tall blonde was darting here and there about the room in constant scientific excitement.

He tried not to stare at the good doctor, knowing he would only display a hangdog look if he did. Of course, it wasn’t as if he had expected to stay here with her, or have her come with him after only a day or two of interaction, but was still deflating when she had finally noticed his interest was more than mere curiosity, and let him know she wasn’t interested. Her reaction, though considerably gentler and more graceful than Seven’s had been, had been profoundly depressing, especially when he finally figured out who Annika really had her eye on, though she had refused to name names.

Like he had to work hard to figure that out, he thought sourly. He could see how Hansen looked at the commodore when she thought no one was looking. Or for that matter, how Johnson looked at her in return, though the older woman’s expression was considerably more uncertain, and confused.

He wondered if in some universe, Harry Kim and Seven of Nine actually managed to come to an understanding. And why he couldn’t be in that one, right now.

“Commodore, our instruments are detecting a breach in the inter-dimensional continuum,” one of the Starfleet technicians offered suddenly.

“Looks like this is it,” Captain Janeway said, suddenly appearing at his shoulder, along with Seven.

“Looks like,” he agreed and tensed, though he wasn’t sure why.

His communicator suddenly chirped, as did the captain’s.

“Voyager to Captain Janeway,” came Chakotay’s unmistakable tone through the scratchy static and distortion.

“Janeway here,” the captain responded instantly. “I’m here with Seven and Lt. Kim. We’re in position for transfer in the engineering lab of this universe’s Voyager.”

“Good,” Chakotay said quickly. “Because we wouldn’t have gotten another shot at opening this thing up. The anomaly is dissipating, and B’Elanna can keep the portal open for only ten seconds. We will open to full intensity in five seconds.”

“Understood,” Janeway said.

So quickly, Harry thought, disappointed that B’Elanna had not managed to increase the time the portal remained stable. But then again, if the anomaly was dissipating, he should count his lucky stars that they even had the opportunity. He was suddenly seized in a farewell hug by both the commodore, and again, by Dr. Hansen, then the portal was opening and he had barely enough time to see Commodore Johnson thrust something into Seven’s arms before the trio was pushed through the opening, a sound like the roar of air escaping surrounding them and filling their ears. Before he had gathered himself, the sound suddenly ceased, and he was stumbling across Voyager’s lab into the arms of Chakotay who straightened him abruptly before turning away.

Harry wondered briefly how mad the first officer was as he turned around to see the lab full of people. B’Elanna was there, along with Tom and Tuvok. The Doctor and Sek were running tricorders over the three returning crewmembers, and everyone seemed to be talking at once, asking questions, receiving answered, being offered reassurances as to their continued health, wlong with what had happened on the ‘other side’ whihc included technical descriptions of what needed to be done. Neelix, meanwhile, was busily thumping people on the back, and welcoming them home.

The portal had disappeared as if it had never been, and Harry felt a real pang go through him, knowing that he would never see either Commodore Johnson or Annika Hansen again. They were not his captain or crewmate, of course, but they were individuals in their own right, people he had grown to like in the very short time he knew them, and he mourned their loss. Then he found himself gazing at Seven who was standing apart from the rest, holding something in her arms, and looking thoroughly apprehensive. The rest of the crowd seemed to notice her at the same time, and everything abruptly went quiet as they all stared at her.

“What,” she said in a faintly frightened voice, “Is this?”

She looked as if she didn’t know whether to grip it tighter or fling it away from her as far as it would go.

“Where did you get that, Seven?” Janeway asked in an odd voice, a strange mix of dismay and, Harry would swear, astonished joy.

“Commodore Johnson gave it to me,” Seven said, holding it out in front of her at arm’s length, dangling it from both hands. “Just before we came through. She said it was for you but if she had given it to you, you would not have taken it.”

Janeway was obviously baffled. “Well, she was correct there,” she said.

“Take it, please,” Seven insisted, rather desperately. There was a wet spot spreading damply over the front of her outfit even as Harry watched.

Janeway gently took it away from her and cradled it in her arms, staring down at it with a strange expression. “There’s no need to be upset, Seven,” she said soothingly. “I believe the commodore thought I might need this out here in the Delta Quadrant.”

A whimper came out of the red bundle which squirmed in the captain’s arms, reaching up to nose the charmed features, as everyone gaped at the sight of their captain’s face being licked frantically by the tiny pink tongue of an Irish Setter puppy.

“What exactly are we supposed to do with it?” Seven asked distastefully as she regarded the tiny form curled up on her partner’s lap. The captain was sitting on the sofa while Seven stood before her, hands linked behind her back, a frown of immense disapproval on her face.

“Love it,” Janeway replied as she stroked the small head. It sighed blissfully and closed its eyes, a content little bundle. “It’s a puppy, Seven.”

This was the first time Seven had seen it remain still since they had returned to their quarters, and she was appalled at the concept that it was now expected to live with them. “What of the bodily functions it insists on displaying?” she asked icily. Her nose wrinkled as she considered the damp spots scattered at various sites around their otherwise immaculate quarters.

“He can be house broken,” Janeway responded reasonably. She looked up at Seven and the Borg was somewhat dismayed to see that the captain’s eyes were shining their warmest blue. “I suspect it’s one of Molly Malone’s puppies. The commodore mentioned she had just littered again.”

“Who?”

“That’s the dog I had when I was lost in the Delta Quadrant,” the captain said. “She had been pregnant, and Mark had to find homes for all the puppies. I guess in her universe, the commodore allowed her to be bred again.”

“Unwise,” Seven noted. “Particularly if she has to ship the offspring to the Delta Quadrant to be rid of them.”

Janeway eyed her. “I suspect you’re not taking this gift in the spirit it was intended, Seven,” she said primly.

“One intended to inconvenience and annoy me?” Seven queried.

“No, Seven,” Janeway responded in an admonishing tone. “There’s nothing better than a dog. They love you unconditionally.”

“You already have that,” Seven pointed out, vaguely offended. “With me.”

Janeway grinned at her. “Yes, but unlike you, this little one will obey me,” she said.

“Then by all means, please instruct it to stop urinating all over the deck,” Seven told her acidly.

“What I meant is that he will obey me once he’s properly trained,” Janeway amended.

“When shall you have time to do this in your capacity as captain?” Seven offered. “Or did you expect me to carry out this duty?”

Janeway considered her with her softest expression. “He will look to both of us as his mistresses,” Janeway offered gently. “It’s important that we both train him.”

“I see,” Seven said without enthusiasm. She studied her partner, observing how Janeway was interacting with the small animal on her lap. It was clear that the captain was already completely captivated by the puppy, and that anything negative Seven offered further would not be appreciated. This, apparently, was not a conflict she could win. “I will research the proper methods of training a dog,” she said finally, in resignation.

Janeway beamed. “Thank you, darling,” she said, then looked around. “While you do that, I’ll clean up the mess,” she added as a sort of peace offering.

Seven sighed and went over to the console, querying the data base about everything it had on dogs, Irish Setters in particular, and the best methods for training them. She was not pleased at what she learned. It all sounded like a great deal of effort for little return, yet Kathryn clearly considered it a worthwhile activity.

“Sweetheart,” Janeway offered after awhile. “I’m going to bed.”

“I will be along shortly,” Seven said absently, not looking up.

She had much to think about when she finally shut down her board and went over to the replicator. She noted that the damp patches on the rug no longer reeked of acidic chemicals, and instead had been sponged with a neutralizing cleaner. It was the absolute least Janeway could do, she thought grumpily as she replicated several sheets of specially designed unifying plexi-sheets. She assembled them into a small structure, and created a tiny run for the animal, placing it in an obscure corner of the room where it would not be in the way. She covered the carpeted area under the doghouse and run with an absorbent spongy material that hopefully would also eliminate odors. Then she went into the bedroom.

“No,” she said firmly, seeing the tiny red form napping happily on Kathryn’s chest as the captain stretched out in bed, perusing a padd. “Absolutely not.”

“But Seven, darling,” Janeway offered. “He’ll be lonely.”

“No,” Seven insisted, crossing her arms over her chest. “He is not sleeping in the bed.”

“He doesn’t take up much room,” Janeway said, offering her most tender look, all fluttery eyes and gentle pleading.

Seven was completely unmoved.

“Not at the moment,” she said pointedly. “However, it shall grow into an animal approximately a meter long, a half meter high and weigh about 20 kilograms.” She paused and fixed Janeway with her most determined look. “I have no intention of learning how to share sleeping space with a large, hairy animal.”

Janeway raised the tiny muzzle with a forefinger. “How can you resist this face,” she asked in a cooing voice.

“Easily,” Seven responded flatly. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Either you sleep with it, or with me. You must choose.”

Janeway looked stubborn. “Suppose I choose the dog,” she said sulkily.

“I shall move out immediately,” Seven said without inflection, turning to leave.

“All right,” Janeway said grumpily. She knew Seven couldn’t be bluffed. Seven wondered why she kept trying. “The puppy gets his own bed.”

“I have constructed a pen for it in the living area,” Seven said, not unkindly. “It is exactly to the specifications set down by the Dog Lover’s Guide.”

Janeway offered her a grudging smile. “That was nice of you, Seven,” she said. She had the grace to look abashed. “With him not being house broken yet, that’s probably the best solution anyway.”

While Seven went into the ensuite to prepare for the night, Janeway took the puppy out to the living area. She was still not back by the time Seven had slipped into bed and as the moments continued to pass, the Borg grew progressively more irritated. When Janeway finally did return to the bedroom, pitiful howls followed in her wake.

“He’ll quiet down after awhile,” the captain said reassuringly to her partner.

Seven looked disbelieving.

An hour later, her disbelief had proven to be warranted, and outraged annoyance had replaced it. The howling had not ceased and in fact, had actually increased in intensity. Seven could barely hear herself think, and the sight of her partner huddled in the bed beside her, a peaceful smile on her face as she slept did not make the younger woman feel any more benevolent toward the situation.

“This is unacceptable,” she exclaimed, startling Janeway awake as the Borg leapt to her feet and stormed into the living area.

A few moments later there was silence, and she returned to the bedroom to discover Janeway sitting up in bed, eyes wide, looking at her apprehensively.

“What did you do?” Janeway asked in the sort of tone that indicated she wasn’t sure that she wanted to know.

“I replicated an artificial companion,” Seven said as she crawled back into bed. “It is a puppy sized oval stuffed with a warming material, and includes a tiny transceiver that gives off the sound and pulse of an adult dog’s heartbeat. The animal seemed to find it acceptable.”

“Oh,” Janeway said, regarding her oddly.

Seven shot her a sharp look. “What did you think I would do?” she asked.

Janeway hesitated, then looked embarrassed. “Terminating it would be the most efficient manner in which to deal with this,” she said.

Seven rolled over, her back turned pointedly to her partner. “Sometimes I do not think you understand me at all,” she told the captain icily.

Janeway must have realized from the tone that Seven was honestly stung by her suspicions, and she immediately wrapped her arms around the larger woman. “I’m sorry, darling,” she said in her most apologetic tone. “Really I am. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Nonetheless,” Seven said coldly. “You have.”

“Tell me how I can make it up to you,” Janeway whispered, kissing her ear. “Please, darling, let me make it up to you.”

Seven considered this for a while. In truth, terminating the puppy had actually crossed her mind on her way out to the pen. A quick snap of the neck with her Borg enhanced hand would have been quite effective, but she decided to exhaust all other possibilities first before resorting to such extreme measures, because she knew Janeway would be devastated at losing what she had already come to care about. Bringing pain to Kathryn was something that Seven would never willingly do, and it hurt her feelings that the captain actually thought she would.

I am becoming far too Human with all its accompanying weaknesses, Seven noted without pleasure. Then Janeway was nuzzling her neck, raising up to kiss her temple, her cheek, tugging at her to roll over.

Still, some weaknesses are better than others, Seven allowed with only a trace of reluctance.

Grudgingly, she allowed Janeway to pull her over until she was facing the captain.

“I’m sorry, darling,” Janeway crooned as she covered Seven’s face with kisses.

“If I forgive you, will you stop this?” Seven asked.

Janeway pulled back, startled. “Do you want me to?” she asked.

“No,” Seven said in her most reasonable tone. “That is why I wish to know if I can forgive you now or if I must wait until you are finished.”

Janeway smiled. “I won’t stop,” she promised.

“Then I forgive you,” Seven said and kissed her back.

Kathryn returned Seven’s kiss with sincere regret at having hurt her. She appreciated Seven’s Borgness, at her ability to stand aloof from Human pettiness and confusion, but she also had to remember that the young woman was a great deal more sensitive than her demeanor sometime indicated. She should have known that Seven would never harm the puppy, for no other reason that it would hurt Kathryn … and Seven would never do that deliberately.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” she murmured against the generous mouth.

“I know,” Seven replied calmly. “I have forgiven you. Do you require more?”

“No,” Janeway said and found herself smiling. “I guess I’m still not used to how you forgive so easily.” She ran her hand lightly over Seven’s ribs, over the hip and back up the spine.

“I love you,” Seven noted with a touch of confusion, as she returned the caresses gently. “Why should I not forgive you?”

“Sometimes the people you care about are the hardest to forgive,” Janeway told her.

“That does not make sense,” Seven said flatly.

“Perhaps,” Janeway allowed. “But that’s the way it is.”

Seven shook her head briefly. “Sometimes I do not think I shall ever be fully Human,” she said, her caresses becoming absent in intent. She looked blankly into the greyness of the room, her gaze seeming distant and far away.

“Maybe that’s not such a bad thing,” Janeway offered casually.

Seven refocused, eyes shifting to meet hers, clearly startled. “I thought you wanted me to be Human,” she said.

“Perhaps in the beginning,” Janeway responded thoughtfully. She leaned forward and kissed Seven. “In fact, I know I pushed it at times,” she admitted softly, “but when all is said and done, I just want you to be you, darling. Having been Borg is part of who you are. It would be wrong of me to demand you forget that, or not be affected by it. You are who you are … and I absolutely adore who you are.”

Seven seemed to be deep in thought. “I believe I understand,” she said. She paused. “If you had been stranded in that other universe, and I had not been with you, would you have fallen in love with Dr. Hansen?”

Kathryn let her breath out in a rush. Damn, but Seven came up with the strangest questions, and at the oddest times. No, she reconsidered, taking it back. Seven always came up with them at the same time … usually when they were about to make love. Maybe it was because Janeway was at her most vulnerable, and Seven thought she could pry the best answers out of her partner.

“I can’t say with any certainty, darling,” she answered as honestly as possible. “I think I would have missed you so terribly that any reminder, as Dr. Hansen would be, would have been too much to bear … but I don’t know for sure. It’s equally possible I would have ended up reaching out to her as a substitute for you.” She arched her brow, decided to turn the tables. “What about you?”

Seven frowned. “I think it would have been very odd for me to become involved with Dr. Hansen,” she said. “Though we could have easily shared outfits.”

Janeway closed her eyes briefly. “No, Seven,” she said. She wondered if Seven was really that literal, or did she deliberately misunderstand on occasion for her own reasons? “Would you have become involved with Commodore Johnson?”

Seven hesitated. “Perhaps,” she said. And offered no more.

Janeway frowned. “And?” she prompted.

“She is very attractive,” Seven admitted reluctantly. “Not to mention, extremely similar to you. It would have been most efficient to continue my relationship with a known entity rather than attempt to start all over again with someone new.”

Janeway bit her lip. “I see,” she said. “So you stay with me because it would be too difficult to try someone different.”

Seven hesitated. “I do almost have you trained properly,” she said.

Janeway blinked, then saw the humor in the pale eyes, and realized that her partner had been pulling her chain, and quite thoroughly.

“Indeed!” she exclaimed, both astonished and delighted with the unexpected teasing. She reached over and started to tickle Seven’s ribs.

Since this was a completely new experience for the other woman, Seven was taken totally by surprise, and was very quickly squirming impotently under the assault. Janeway just as quickly relented, remembering how easy it was to cross the line from teasing to tormenting. Seven was gulping, looking at her wide-eyed.

“That was unwise,” Seven told her. “Especially since I know you are more susceptible to this than I would be.”

“Oh no,” Janeway objected but Seven’s fingers were already skittering across her mid-section.

Immediately, Janeway was helpless with laughter, but Seven also seemed to know when to stop, and very shortly Janeway was looking up at her partner, trying to catch her breath as the Borg cradled her in her arms, looking down at her with unadulterated love and devotion. Janeway decided that being tickled by Seven was considerably different than being tickled by anyone else, having found Seven’s playful assault to be arousing rather than annoying. She guessed she’d be more apt to allow her partner this liberty in the future now that she had made that discovery.

“You are the only Kathryn I want,” Seven told her sincerely. “In any universe.”

“That’s good,” Janeway said with a wide smile. “Because I’m the only one you have.” She rose up and kissed Seven, sinking back as the younger woman followed the contact down.

“It was intriguing to see that other universe, however,” Seven noted when they broke for air some minutes later, not letting the topic go even after Kathryn was clearly indicating with both mouth and hands that she was more than ready to move this into a more intimate stage.

“Hmm, yes it was,” Janeway said, trying not to be impatient. She supposed she could take her time. After all, time was something they both had plenty of here in the Delta Quadrant, and it was clear that Seven needed to talk about this. “What intrigued you the most?”

“It was interesting to see the differences between us,” Seven allowed. “What kind of people we were there in comparison to who we are here … and how we have changed since falling in love.”

“We have changed, haven’t we,” Kathryn agreed thoughtfully. “Both as individuals and as a couple. What’s the biggest difference between then and now, do you think?”

“I trust in what we have,” Seven admitted readily. “I trust in you. I am secure in your love for me.”

Kathryn smiled.

“What?” Seven asked.

“That is exactly how I feel,” Kathryn said softly. “I thought that you would wake up some day, and realize that you didn’t need an old starship captain holding you back. I think I’ve learned that in some unfathomable way, no matter what happens, we’re meant to be together.”

“That is true,” Seven said. She kissed Kathryn gently, lovingly, then rested her forehead against the captain’s. “I am so very glad I met you, Kathryn Janeway. I am so grateful that of all the billions of drones in the Collective, it was I who was chosen to be your liaison.”

“Oh darling,” Kathryn whispered, feeling tears sting the back of her eyes. “So am I.”

“I am also grateful that you never gave up on me,” Seven added gravely. “I know that I certainly tried your patience when I fist arrived on Voyager.”

“No less than I did yours,” Janeway said ruefully. She remembered in the beginning, when she had pushed the young woman away, not daring to become involved even though she was already in love with her. She reached up and stroked Seven’s cheek, looking intently into the blue eyes. “Thank you for putting up with me, darling. For never letting my fears and insecurities keep you from staying the course.”

“You are a difficult person to be involved with,” Seven admitted with a smile, echoing the words she had used so many months before. “However, it has always been worth it.”

“I’m so very glad you think so, darling,” Janeway said. She reached up and kissed Seven very gently, barely brushing her lips over hers. “You are my heart, Annika. I shall always love you. Believe that. Nothing shall ever change how I feel about you.”

“I will always love you,” Seven whispered. She deepened the kiss, softly touching Janeway’s tongue with her own, but only briefly. “May I ask you a question?” she asked when they had parted.

Janeway stifled a sigh. “Of course,” she said, though she was a trifle uneasy. She wondered why Seven, the most honest and straightforward person she knew, was hesitant about asking her anything, and she felt a certain apprehension stab through her.

“Have you ever really thought about our having children?” Seven offered.

Oh boy, so that was the question, the captain thought with a bit of dismay.

“Not really,” Janeway admitted cautiously. “Being lost in the Delta Quadrant makes it a difficult thing to consider. Sometimes I do think about how it will be once we return to the Alpha Quadrant, what our lives will be like, where and how we’ll live. Do you really want children, Seven?”

“I believe I do,” Seven responded thoughtfully. “My research tonight indicated that the care of a puppy is somewhat similar to that of a child,” Seven said. “Is that true?”

Janeway took a breath. So that was what had inspired this line of discussion.

“A puppy is a great deal easier to raise and care for,” she warned.

“Oh,” Seven noted. She paused. “Still, this may be a good experience for me to help discover if I am comfortable with raising a child.”

Janeway forced herself not to panic. Although she had considered having children on various occasions with her previous fiancés, it had been only in the abstract, something that had never developed to where she had to consider it as a reality. As the years passed, her career had taken the forefront, regulating such speculation into the ‘might never be’ category … something she did not particularly regret. Now it seemed that she had to consider it for real, from a rather different viewpoint, knowing that Seven would only have brought it up now because she was quite serious about the future possibility.

“I’m sure you’re capable of succeeding at anything you might want to do,” Janeway said carefully, regarding her partner intently. “I think you would be a wonderful mother.”

Seven seemed very pleased by the words. “Thank you,” she returned. “I think you would be an outstanding parent as well.”

Janeway sighed. “Perhaps,” she allowed. “I don’t know. I haven’t really considered the whole idea very seriously. Maybe it’s time I did.”

Seven regarded her gravely. “Do you like children, Kathryn?” she asked, as if the contrary had just occurred to her.

“I haven’t been involved with them much,” Janeway replied honestly. “My life is such that I rarely come in contact with them in any form. For the last five years, there’s only been one child in the vicinity.”

“I see,” Seven said thoughtfully. “Perhaps you should begin spending time with Naomi Wildman … in order to determine your comfort level.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Janeway said tentatively, swallowing hard, wondering what she was getting herself into now. “I believe I will.”

Seven seemed content with that, and Janeway allowed herself to breathe a little easier. Still, it was clearly something she would have to address one way or another the closer they got to returning to the Alpha Quadrant. To the day they returned to a more normal, settled life.

One day in the future.

Epilogue

Commodore Kathryn Johnson wearily returned to her quarters after having spent several hours trying to compose a letter requesting a demotion and a return to ship duty. Such a request was rarely granted, she knew, but the Federation was in the middle of a war, and Starfleet had lost more than a few good captains in the course of it. Perhaps she would buck the odds yet again and manage to return to where she belonged … at the conn of a starship.

The dim setting of the lights in her quarters were enough to navigate by, and she did not bother bringing them up as she undressed and slipped on a nightgown. With a low sigh, she entered her bedroom, hoping that her sleep would be undisturbed and restful for a change. It had been so long since she had slept well, she could barely remember what a good night’s sleep was. She pulled back the sheets, putting one knee on the mattress in preparation of crawling in.

That’s when she noticed her bed was already occupied.

“Lights.”

That came out in a strangled squeak and swallowing hard, Johnson tried again.

“Computer, lights.” The room brightened, revealing everything. Johnson, frozen with one knee on the bed, a white-knuckled grip on the blanket, her other hand resting on her chest like some damsel in a bad holo-novel. Stretched out before her, like some sacrificial offering, the long, sleek form which was Dr. Annika Hansen.

The luxurious hair had been loosened from the tight bun the scientist customarily wore, flung across the pillow like the finest gold. Her breasts were full, tipped with pink nipples, a flat stomach flexing over a thatch of blonde, a few shades darker than that on her head, while her legs seemed to run on forever. Her skin glowed alabaster against the deep blue of the sheets as she rested her weight on her right elbow, half-turning towards the commodore.

“Doctor,” Kathryn said tightly, looking at the slim form displaying itself on the other side of the bed. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Waiting for you,” Annika responded quietly. Her eyes were dark pools of azure, regarding Kathryn with a calm, cool intensity.

“Why?”

“Because Seven said this was the perfect way to focus your attention,” Annika explained. “I really wanted to focus your attention.”

“Again, why?” the commodore asked.

Annika abruptly rose up to her knees and crossed the expanse of bed. Kathryn found herself freezing once more, remarkably like a deer caught in the headlights of some vehicle bearing down on it, intent on crushing the very life from it. The young woman stopped a bare breath away, rising over her like a goddess. Johnson could feel the heat radiating off her, smell the heady scent of a clean, ready female body, touched with the faintest trace of perfume. Annika made no attempt to touch her, instead, looking Johnson up and down with slow consideration, her lips pursed slightly.

“I think you know why, Kathryn,” she said in a low voice.

“I’m married,” Johnson said flatly.

“I’ve heard,” Annika said. “He’s a fool to let you go.” She leaned forward, closing the distance between them before Johnson could object, and kissed her with such a sweet, tender, utterly loving passion that Johnson swore she was going to pass out. She was acutely aware of the younger woman’s arms surrounding her, and for an instant, everything else disappeared, all her troubles, all her worries, just the space within this embrace that seemed to protect and shelter her from the universe outside. It was a phenomenal experience, and the commodore was considerably shaken by it.

“If you really want me to leave, I will,” Annika added in a low voice once she had released the kiss, resting her forehead against Johnson’s. “But let it be because you honestly don’t want me, not because you think you shouldn’t.”

Johnson swallowed hard. This was completely inappropriate. She still had a husband, the term marriage far from dissolved, a career in Starfleet that demanded certain protocols, certain requirements when it came to becoming involved, particularly with civilians. This was absolutely foolish, an indulgence she could not afford…..

She remembered how Janeway had looked at Seven. How Seven had looked at her in return. Remembered how much easier and at peace Janeway was with herself because she could love freely and be loved in return, without conditions, or outside interference.

“I don’t want you to leave,” she admitted.

The smile that crossed Annika’s face seemed to light up the room, bringing a glow to the ice blue eyes.

She really is incredibly beautiful, Johnson thought with astonishment. Why have I never noticed that before?

“Good,” Annika said. “Because Seven didn’t have too much advice to offer beyond this.”

Johnson studied her intently. “Do you really need advice?” she asked curiously.

Annika tightened her hold on the smaller woman.

“No, I think we can figure it out between ourselves.”

Bathed in the starlight falling across the bed, two women set about creating a new reality, one of passion and a love they had not known they were missing until they had witnessed it for themselves.

The End

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On to Just Between Stars

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Epilogue