This is the 10th in the Just Between series. It was written around the end of November, and posted the first of December, 1998, shortly before the events in Timeless.

To all my readers, a heartfelt thank you for all your kind comments, encouragement and plot ideas.

Just Between Right & Wrong

G. L. Dartt

Rubbing her gritty eyes irritably with her forefinger and thumb, Captain Kathryn Janeway of the starship Voyager took a deep breath, then looked toward the front of the bridge where Lt. Tom Paris was covering the helm. Beyond him, the large viewscreen stretching across the bulkhead revealed the image of thick dust, and glowing radiation of the nebula, in which the vessel was currently hiding. Beyond that, though she couldn’t see them, she knew the dark ships of the V’Elanon Empire cruised, searching for the Federation vessel.

“Tactical,” she requested quietly.

“The V’Elanon ships are maintaining position,” her chief of security responded evenly. The glare of the yellow alert lights gave his Vulcan features a sallow tint, while his angled eyebrows and pointed ears added to the faintly demonic look. “Their weapons remain fully charged.”

She glanced over at her executive officer, Commander Chakotay. A handsome bear of a man, he rubbed the tattoo over his left eye with the back of his thumb, an unconscious gesture of concern. He returned her look with dark eyes, and shook his head.

“Apparently hiding is not the answer,” he offered. “They don’t seem to be giving up.”

“Not in this case,” she agreed, frowning as she saw the flicker of phaser fire suddenly streak through the obscuring clouds.

“They’re firing, Captain,” Lt. Harry Kim reported, rather unnecessarily from his aft operations station. “However, I think it was only an attempt to flush us out.”

“They don’t know where we are, they’re just trying to get lucky,” Paris added. His boyish face turned to look at the captain. “I think we can outrun them.”

Janeway considered that. “If you’re wrong,” she reminded him. “We’d be in a great deal of trouble. They outnumber us five to one, and all they need is one lucky shot to disable us. The rest would then move in and pick us to pieces.” She glanced back at Harry. “What’s the status on those shields?”

“Seven says that they’re still at fifty-six percent,” he replied. Young, with the greenness of Starfleet Academy still clinging to him on occasion, his dark eyes were concerned. “Lt. Torres just reported that the repairs are proceeding quickly, but her team still needs an hour.”

Janeway raised an eyebrow. “Then, we’ll stay here another hour,” she said dryly.

She realized this game of cat and mouse was trying on her crew, but sometimes one had to be aware of one’s limitations. Voyager was a fine ship, it’s technology far advanced when compared to most of the civilizations they had encountered during the previous five years in the Delta Quadrant, but it was still alone out here, with nothing to rely on but the strength of her crew, and the wits of her captain.

If only her captain’s wits felt a little clearer at the moment, Janeway thought wryly.

She had been on duty for thirty-two hours straight, ever since they had entered the V’Elanon Empire. At first, they had been hopeful they would be able to pass through this space unmolested, but it hadn’t taken long to realize the natives were not friendly. It was just a shame Voyager had gotten so far into their space before their intentions were clear. This nebula had been close by, emitting enough radiation to cover their warp signature, and conceal them from the V’Elanon but not so much that their shields couldn’t handle it. It was the only thing that saved them after being damaged in the unexpected ambush.

She leaned back in her chair, forcing herself to appear relaxed even though the palms of her hands, which rested on the arms of her command chair, were slippery with sweat. She hated waiting, hated this passive strategy, but it was the best for all concerned. Federation protocols dictated that she not interfere with the development of a culture, and though she had been forced to bend and stretch Starfleet protocols over the past five years, she tried not to disobey them when she didn’t have to. It was likely that Voyager’s weapons could easily handle the highly maneuverable, but less powerful ships out there, but if Seven could finish modifying the shields, they wouldn’t have to fight.

Avoiding a conflict was just as good a solution, she told herself sternly, though a part of her absolutely hated the idea of Voyager running like a dog with its tail between its legs.

“Seven to the bridge.”

“Go ahead,” Janeway said quickly, before anyone else could answer.

“I have finished the modifications to the shields,” Seven of Nine said in her cool, even tone. “They are now impenetrable to V’Elanon weapons.”

“Good work, Seven,” Janeway said warmly, and altered the comm channel. “Bridge to Engineering. What’s your status, B’Elanna?”

“The hull breech on deck nine is sealed,” came the quick reply. “We’re still working on deck eight.”

“How much longer?” Janeway asked. She had a mental image of her chief engineer who would be working right there with her crew. The Klingon/Human hybrid never asked of her people anything she would not do herself, no matter how dirty the job. Hull breaches required hard manual labor, needing a careful touch with the laser torch. It was hot and dangerous work, but B’Elanna was the best engineer Janeway had ever known … high praise coming from someone who was no slouch in that department herself.

“Twenty minutes,” B’Elanna promised.

Janeway chafed at the delay, but knew that it would defeat the purpose to move before they were ready. “Understood,” she said.

She rubbed her hands surreptitiously on her trousers, and glanced around the bridge. Paris continued to run course corrections in his board, plotting out the fastest and safest way to the edge of V’Elanon space, his shoulders tense as he worked. Tuvok, on the other hand, appeared no different than he did when the ship was traveling unchallenged through unclaimed space.

Janeway wished she possessed a little of that Vulcan calm herself, at times. As it was, experience allowed her to look cool and collected, even though what she really wanted to do was leap up and pace about the bridge like a caged animal. That would hardly do Harry Kim any good however, she thought with an internal grin. She knew that he was tapping his fingers on the operations console, hearing the faint tattoo of the flesh against the metal from somewhere behind her.

Chakotay leaned over, lowering his voice so that no one else could hear. “Are we going to fire back?” he asked.

“Only if they leave us no other choice,” she replied softly.

She rested her chin on her forefinger and thumb, eyes dark as she regarded the viewscreen, irritated by these aliens who was making her life so difficult at the moment. The soft hiss of the door heralded the arrival of someone from the turbolift, and she glanced back to see the tall, curvaceous form of her astrometrics officer enter the bridge.

Seven of Nine took a position on the elevated area just behind the command chairs, accessing the auxiliary tactical station. There, she could access data from both main tactical and operations in the event one or both officers went down. Janeway wished the station was to the front of the bridge rather than aft. She would much rather be looking at Seven than the thick, pinkish clouds of the nebula on the screen. However, she was very aware of the Borg’s presence, not having to glance over her shoulder to know those ice blue eyes were tracing over her when they weren’t concentrating on the data readouts.

There was an escalating tension on the bridge as they continued to wait for Engineering to complete their repairs. When the call finally came in, it was like being released from imprisonment.

“Torres to Bridge. Hull integrity at one hundred percent.”

Janeway stood up. “Red Alert,” she snapped, the illumination growing darker, washing over her with a crimson hue. “Get us out of here, Tom. Warp six.”

She sat down abruptly as the ship leaped forward, the acceleration pressing her back in her seat, and she hoped no one had noticed. She shouldn’t have stood up, she thought idly as she gripped the arms of her command chair. She was lucky she hadn’t landed her ass on the hard deck plates, instead of the supportive cushion of her chair.

She took an instant to glance back. Seven seemed oblivious to the motion of the ship as Paris threw it into a series of maneuvers designed to throw off the V’Elanon, and Janeway stifled a flash of envy. Nothing ever seemed to bother the young woman much. At least, not externally.

“Captain, the V’Elanon are firing,” Tuvok reported.

Janeway felt the shudder as the ship was struck by the energy beams, but unlike before, there was none of the savage jolting the previous attack had subjected them to, the shots puncturing the hull with stunning force.

“Shields are holding,” Seven reported without pride, even though it had been her abilities which had modified them. Once a drone with the Borg Collective, Seven retained much of the technological knowledge she had assimilated. It continued to serve Voyager well now that she was a member of its crew.

“Warp six,” Paris offered, finally having broke free of the blockade which surrounded them, and accelerating steadily. “We’re pulling away.”

“The V’Elanon are falling back,” Tuvok said after several moments.

“Approaching the edge of V’Elanon space,” Harry added.

“The V’Elanon have broken off pursuit,” Tuvok concluded.

Janeway glanced at Chakotay who grinned. “Sometimes the bear gets you,” he said. “But sometimes you get the bear.”

“Or at least, avoid tangling with him,” she agreed. She turned her head forward. “Good work, people. Tom, maintain a course that leaves us well clear of V’Elanon space.”

“Aye, captain,” he replied.

She took a breath and stood up. Her eyes briefly intersected with Seven’s and absurdly, she felt herself flush. I’m tired, she thought. She nodded at Chakotay.

“You have the bridge,” she said. “Maintain our heading to the Alpha Quadrant.”

It was more a formality designed to turn over the conn to him, rather than an actual order, but he nodded anyway. “Aye,” he said. He raised an eyebrow. “Pleasant dreams.”

She grinned at the impudence of it. She knew she must look like hell but still, he shouldn’t assume she was going straight to bed … even if she was.

“Don’t wait too long yourself,” she reminded him pointedly. After all, he had been up just as long as she had.

“In a while,” he promised, and turned to his console to log his report.

She left the bridge and entered the turbolift, unsurprised when she was joined by her astrometrics officer.

“Are you going to bed now?” Seven asked.

“If I can make it that far,” Janeway admitted. Now that the excitement was over, she felt exhaustion seep over her like a damp woolen cloak. She would have swayed, but for Seven’s hand suddenly gripping her shoulder. It was a effrontery not allowed most crewmembers with their captain, but then, Seven of Nine was not most crewmembers. For a few precious seconds, Janeway leaned into it gratefully, then straightened as the turbolift doors slid open.

“I must finish in astrometrics,” Seven said then. “I will not be long.”

Janeway nodded briefly, and exited the turbolift, heading for her quarters. There, she was met by Jake, an Irish Setter puppy, who for some reason, seemed to sense that she would not appreciate his normally boisterous greeting, and instead, sat down in front of her, panting happily.

She smiled as she patted his head.

“Good pup,” she praised him. “Have you been fed?”

Just to be sure, she retrieved his dish and replicated a generous amount of mixed dry and moist puppy chow for him. She sat it down in his area just outside the bedroom door, before going into the room containing a queen-sized bed. She was too tired to do anything beyond stripping off her uniform, and crawling between the smooth sheets, curling around a pillow which she clutched to herself. She fell asleep almost immediately, and was not consciously aware of the warm body which joined her an hour later, though somehow, she rolled over and clutched that instead.

Seven of Nine woke to the warmth and familiar weight of her partner slumbering peacefully on top of her. She tried not to gasp for breath as she wrapped her arms around the captain, easing them over until they were laying on their sides, and Seven could once again breathe easily. Janeway stirred briefly, though only to snuggle closer, draping her arm and leg over Seven with possessive affection. Seven rested her chin on the auburn hair, and closed her eyes. She required much less sleep than Janeway, thanks to her Borg enhancements, but it was still nice to doze in this cozy, warm place.

Even though it wasn’t quite the same.

Seven felt a lump in her throat. Though she and the captain had shared a deeply personal relationship for several months, a recent explosion had left Janeway with a loss of memory stretching back three years. They had slowly began rebuilding their bond as Janeway got to know Seven again, but they had yet to resume their former physical intimacy, though they still shared a bed. Perhaps it was time to become lovers again, Seven thought. If only she could be sure of Kathryn’s feelings, be sure that the captain loved her as she had before.

She felt lips suddenly moving over her jaw, along the underside of her chin, and despite her uncertainty, she smiled faintly. “Good morning,” she said quietly.

A soft, throaty laugh caressed her ears. “More like good afternoon,” Janeway responded.

The captain’s weight eased back on top of Seven, and the generous mouth covered the younger woman’s with a tender intensity. Seven kissed her back, enjoying the taste and sensation of Janeway’s mouth on hers, but was careful not to make it too passionate. She reached up with gentle fingertips to touch the captain’s cheek, and Janeway took that as invitation to deepen the kiss.

“Do you know how very beautiful you are,” the captain murmured against her lips once they parted.

“Beauty is irrelevant,” Seven responded automatically, then gentled her voice. “However, I am glad that you think I am.”

“I do,” Janeway whispered. She slipped her hand under the Starfleet issued gray pyjamas Seven wore, fingers dancing over the Borg’s stomach, then along her rib cage. Seven shifted so that the fingers could not reach her breasts, and Janeway hesitated as she felt the resistance. “Annika?”

“I … I am unsure this is the right time,” Seven said quietly.

Janeway considered that, hands motionless against her though Seven still felt the warmth of her fingers against her skin, making her tingle. “Do you still have doubts, darling?” Janeway asked quietly. “Don’t you know how I feel about you?”

“I know you care for me,” Seven said hesitantly.

Janeway took a breath and withdrew, pulling away until she was lying on her side, no longer touching Seven. Seven closed her eyes, not wanting to look at her partner, not wanting to see the disappointment and irritation in the blue-grey eyes.

“I may never feel exactly the same as I did, Annika,” Janeway said softly. “But I do love you. I’ve told you that.”

Seven swallowed. “I want to believe it,” she said.

There was a pause. “But you don’t,” Janeway said coolly.

She rolled out of bed and left Seven laying there, feeling wretched and wishing she knew why she was so uncertain … so afraid. She was terrified that if they moved too quickly that this fragile bond forming between them would somehow be lost, but she did not know how to explain it to Kathryn, and as a result, the captain was becoming progressively impatient with her. Perhaps I should just make love with her, Seven thought miserably. Then, progress from there.

She could hear the muted sound of the shower, knowing that Janeway was beginning her day, and with a sigh, she slipped out of bed. She donned a sedate, silver robe, and moved out to the living area where Jake ambled over to meet her, his tail wagging so hard, his whole hindquarters swayed. She reached down with her right hand, and patted him, then made her way over to the small kitchenette situated in one corner of the room. Retrieving a device from beneath the counter, she carefully measured the proper amount of coffee beans plus a few secret ingredients, setting it to brew. She replicated a plate of eggs, ham and home fries, placing it on the dining table, along with a large glass of orange juice just as the captain exited the bedroom, fluffing her hair which was still damp, and sweeping it up into a bun.

Janeway was dressed in a deep sapphire robe which set off her marvelous blue-grey eyes, and her feet were bare, peeping out from beneath the hem as she walked. Clearly, she was taking the day off after having pulled double duty for two days straight, and Seven was gratified. Their off duty periods rarely coincided, and she hoped that they would be able to spend the entire day together … but only if Janeway was not angry about what had happened earlier.

However, the captain smiled at the young woman as she settled on her chair, picking up her fork. “This is good,” she said after she tasted the home fries.

Relieved, Seven went to the replicator to prepare Jake’s breakfast. After that task was complete, she went into the ensuite and took a sonic shower, dressing in a blue and gray outfit which covered her like a second skin. When she returned to the other room, she saw that Janeway had retrieved her own coffee, and was chewing on some toast as she perused a report from a padd. Seven replicated her own breakfast, blueberry waffles, and sat down at the table. She enjoyed this time with Kathryn, the rare chance to spend a leisurely breakfast together, and if it was not exactly as it had been, it was probably as close as they were going to get.

She affected not to notice when Janeway sent her crust spinning through the air where Jake snapped it up before it hit the deck, but she was aware of the captain looking at her with a impudent grin, almost as if she was daring her to say something. For some reason, since her accident, Janeway had seemed … more playful … though that wasn’t quite the word Seven was looking for. It was edgier than that.

“Are you on duty today?” Janeway asked.

“No,” Seven responded. “I did promise B’Elanna I would help with the plasma relays. However, I would prefer to spend the day with you.”

Janeway blinked, and a soft, shy expression crossed her face. “I think I’d like that as well,” she said. She lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry about this morning,” she added, in a voice that to Seven, didn’t really sound sorry at all. Instead, it sounded like Janeway was attempting to elicit some sort of information from her.

Seven thought about it for a minute. “There is nothing to apologize for,” she said finally, after having discarded several other, more informative responses.

Janeway looked faintly disappointed, and Seven wondered what she had been attempting to discover.

“So what would you like to do today?” Janeway asked after a few moments.

“I had not considered it,” Seven replied honestly. “What would you like to do?”

Janeway stared at her with an expression in her eyes that made Seven blush, though she wasn’t sure why. “I could think of several things,” Janeway said, in a voice that made the hair on the back of Seven’s neck stand upright.

Seven looked down at her plate uncomfortably. She heard Janeway get up and move around the table, then felt the warmth of her fingers on her shoulder.

“Annika, please tell me what’s wrong,” Janeway asked softly. “What’s going on here?”

“I do not know,” Seven replied miserably. “I am afraid.”

“Of what?” Janeway prodded gently. “Of me?”

Seven shook her head. “Of us,” she said, struggling to find the words to explain. “I am afraid that if we make love and it is not … if we do not … if you do not …”

“Shh,” Janeway soothed, placing a finger on the Borg’s lips, and lifting Seven’s face to her where she regarded her with a compassionate look. “I’m sorry, Annika,” she said, meaning it this time. “If you’re not ready, then you’re right, it’s not time. I just wanted to be with you. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I want to be with you,” Seven said unhappily. “I am sorry, Kathryn. I do not have the words to explain how I feel. Or why I feel this way.” She felt very much like she was going to cry. “I do not want to drive you away. I do not want to disappoint you.”

“You haven’t,” Janeway assured her, kneeling down so that her head was on the level with Seven’s. “My darling, you could never drive me away. You’re absolutely stuck with me, but I would like to understand what is making it so difficult for you to believe my feelings for you are real.”

Seven fought back the tears stinging her eyes. “I am afraid that what you believe you feel is only what you think you should,” she said slowly. “That you have read all the logs, that you have been told that you are supposed to love me … so you do.”

Janeway took a breath. “You mean that somehow I’ve only convinced myself that what I feel is love,” she said. She paused. “Annika, I know the difference between attraction and love.”

Seven nodded unhappily. “I know,” she said.

Janeway regarded her for a long moment. “No, I don’t believe you do,” she said again. She sighed, lightly brushing her fingers along Seven’s cheek. “Darling, what can I do to make you understand this is real? How can I show you that I love you?”

“I do not know,” Seven said in a small voice. She closed her eyes. “I want to believe. I find I … cannot.”

“Oh, Annika,” Janeway said helplessly. She slid her arms around her neck and hugged her. “We’ll figure it out, darling,” she murmured softly into her ear. “Together. I promise I won’t try to rush you anymore.” Seven hugged her back, burying her face into the hollow of Janeway’s neck, trying not to cry and totally unable to prevent it. Janeway just stroked her hair and nuzzled her as she wept. “Darling, I do love you,” the captain added. “I’ll find a way to prove it to you. In the meantime, just believe in me. Have faith in us.”

“I will try,” Seven whispered through her tears.

However, she was very much afraid that she would fail.

Lieutenant Commander Tuvok made a few notations in his padd, and laid it down beside all the others which were piled neatly on the low table in front of him. As chief of security for Voyager, it was his responsibility to protect this ship and its crew from all threats, both external and internal. Right now, he was completely occupied by this current danger to the well being of his ship.

The sabotage which had injured Captain Janeway severely, robbing her of her memories, had been a deliberate attempt to kill Lt. B’Elanna Torres, and the fact that the captain was nothing more than an inadvertent victim, did not mitigate the horrendous nature of the crime which had been committed. Right now, the perpetrator of that crime, Lt. Angela James, was being held in Voyager’s brig, awaiting her court martial. Tuvok had been assigned to prosecute the case, and he had made a personal vow to carry out this task to the absolute best of his ability.

Vulcans did not take things personally as a rule, but Tuvok had an abiding distaste for Lt. James. Captain Janeway and Seven of Nine had lost their previous easy relationship, something that was clear to him though the two women tried to conceal it from the rest of the ship. He had served with Janeway for some time, having known her longer than anyone else on the ship. Seven of Nine had been in his life for a much shorter period, but he was appreciative of her logical and straightforward manner, finding in her something that reminded him remarkably of his daughter, back home in the Alpha Quadrant. He had more than the usual protective instincts toward her, though he would not admit that to just anyone. He considered both of them to be his friends.

There were other reasons to be disturbed by this case. Lt. James had originally presented a quiet, competent face to the ship, but digging deeper had uncovered very disturbing patterns in her personal life, no single thing that would have alerted anyone before now, but taken together as a whole, they resulted in a clear warning as to what she was capable of. Broken relationships which ended bitterly and with acrimony on both sides, behavior regarding ex-lovers and their current partners, incidents buried in her personnel record both from her days at the Academy, and at her first posting on the USS Entropy. Her attempt to kill B’Elanna could have been predicted, if only Tuvok had been aware of everything that went on the past four years regarding the personal details of the crew’s romantic liaisons.

He repressed a shudder at that thought.

The chime to his quarters sounded softly, and he looked up, raising a dark eyebrow.

“Come in,” he said. He tilted his head slightly as Janeway entered. “Captain?”

“Tuvok,” she greeted. When he nodded slightly, she took a seat opposite him at the unspoken invitation. “I stopped by to find out how the case is going.”

As one of the victims, Janeway felt that she could not act in any sort of official manner in James’s court martial. Otherwise, it was possible that the crew would feel that any outcome would be essentially unfair, no matter how she conducted herself. Since her whole command rested on the faith and trust of the people under her, it was a risk she was not prepared to take, not here so far away from Starfleet Command and the Federation. For the same reasons, most of the senior staff were also exempt. As a result, a panel of Judges had been chosen by the captain though so far, only the three in question had been informed.

Tuvok had not been told yet either, but he thought he could guess at least one of the individuals if he were so inclined to indulge in such speculation. The Doctor had been acting uncommonly odd the past few days. Tuvok knew the captain was very concerned that Lt. James would not get a fair and impartial trial on a ship in their situation. He also knew that she had probably agonized over her selection for quite some time.

“Indeed,” he said. “Would you be more specific?”

She folded her hands and put them neatly on her lap. “I need to know if Lt. James has a case.”

Tuvok raised his eyebrow. “Perhaps you should talk to her counsel,” he advised dryly. “While I am forced by law to share all the details of Starfleet’s case with Lt. Kim, Mr. Kim is not required to do the same. He would have a far more educated opinion on the matter than I would.”

Janeway made a face. “I would not presume to talk to Harry about this,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to give the impression that I am trying to influence him in any way.” Her steady gray eyes met his. “I was hoping that you could speculate for me, old friend.”

Tuvok did not sigh, but at times, he thought that it would be a useful expression of certain emotions which were harder to suppress than others. Janeway tended to call on their long-standing friendship at the oddest times.

“Very well,” he said, giving her his full and undivided attention. “Were I Lt. James’s counsel, I would concentrate on the fact that Lt. Torres threatened her life, and as a result, she was acting purely in self defense.” He chose not to share with her all he had learned about the young woman. For one thing, it would do no good, and only make her feel guilty that she hadn’t seen it coming either, which was illogical of course, but very characteristic of the captain.

“Then, why didn’t she inform her superior officer? Or you?” Janeway responded fretfully.

Tuvok had noticed that Janeway displayed more impatience now, was less apt to be calm in certain situations. The strangest thing was that while she was no longer like the woman of the recent past, she wasn’t the woman he remembered from three years ago, either. She had become a completely new entity.

“James could have been of the belief that she would receive no assistance from her superior officers,” Tuvok suggested. “That Torres held such a valuable position on the ship, she was inviolate, and that the only course of action was to protect herself in this manner.”

Janeway shook her head. “I know that’s what she’s been saying, Tuvok,” she said. “What would possess her to come such a conclusion?”

“Torres and Seven have become close friends,” Tuvok said. “Seven is your fiancé, so by extension, B’Elanna also enjoyed certain favor with you.”

“I would never treat them differently than the rest of my crew, regardless of my personal feelings,” she said flatly.

He controlled his expression carefully. “In truth, Captain, Seven and B’Elanna have indulged in certain … actions in the past that could be considered inappropriate,” he said.

Janeway stared at him. “Like what?”

“B’Elanna has frequently chased Seven through the ship after the Borg had provoked her in some manner,” he said. “They have engaged in what I believe is known as ‘horseplay’ while on duty. Certain of their conversations have been … passed around the lower decks.”

“How long did this go on?” Janeway said, and her voice was cold.

“For some time,” he said reluctantly, knowing he was getting into deep water here, and unable to find a way out. “A few months.”

“It took me that long to find out about it?” Janeway frowned.

“You were aware of most of it at the time, Captain,” he said.

She blinked, took a slow breath. “I let it go on?” she said, her voice suddenly uncertain.

“It was an indulgence on your part regarding Seven,” he said delicately. “She is not a member of Starfleet, and her adaptation to Humanity has been a difficult one at times. I believe that B’Elanna became aware of your acceptance of Seven’s non-regulation type behavior and occasionally took advantage of it for herself.”

“Why would I allow this?” Janeway said in disbelief.

Tuvok hesitated. “That would require more speculation,” he disassembled.

“Then, do so,” she said icily.

Tuvok repressed another sigh. “In the beginning of your personal relationship, though you obviously loved Seven, you still treated her very much as a crewmember,” he said. “The ship was always your ultimate priority. Then, for a brief period of time, you believed she was dead. It was extremely traumatic, and I believe, had a profound effect on you. It is possible that after Seven returned to you alive and well, you overcompensated your previous attitude toward her with one which was more … tolerant … of certain behavior.” He paused, searching for the right words. “Also Captain, Seven was assimilated when she was only six years old. She had no traditional childhood, whatsoever. It is conceivable that you were allowing her to engage in the more ‘childish’ pursuits to make up for that perceived loss.”

Janeway exhaled slowly. “Tuvok, I know you would not lie to me,” she said slowly. “But I find this all difficult to believe.”

He raised an eyebrow. “We have been out here for almost six years, Captain,” he said. “We have experienced many things that the average starship in the Alpha Quadrant simply would not. Also, the crew is comprised of many differing elements outside of Starfleet; Maquis, Talaxian, Ocampa, Borg, holographic entities. To command such a diverse crew is a constant experimental process, requiring a certain amount of latitude on both sides. It has been highly successful most of the time, though occasionally it is not. It is very much trial and error, where you must often learn from your mistakes, though you always do your best to correct any errors in judgement, quickly. I do know that a month before the incident which injured you, you had brought B’Elanna back under control, though I am unsure how you accomplished it. The whole ship was aware of her new demeanor, however.”

“Still, it’s possible that James thought I would actually allow Torres to harm her without repercussion,” Janeway said fretfully. “With Chakotay involved with B’Elanna now, it might seem that she had no where to go.”

Tuvok raised his head. “Perhaps,” he allowed. “However, none of the rest of the crew shares this irrational belief. It is an illogical conclusion to make with such little data. I certainly have no intention of allowing her to use such a belief to justify attempted murder.”

Janeway looked away, was silent for quite a few moments. Tuvok regarded her quietly, waiting patiently for her response, but when it came, it was not about the case.

“Tuvok, how well do you know Seven?” she asked quietly.

Tuvok considered the question, wondering what had prompted it. “She is my friend,” he said finally.

Janeway eyed him with faint surprise. It was not something he said lightly. There was a wealth of meaning behind that the stark statement that only she would be aware of.

“I see,” she said. She smiled faintly. “I don’t know who else to talk to, Tuvok.”

Tuvok dipped his head. He could see where this was going now … unfortunately.

“Seven is afraid of me,” Janeway said slowly. “Afraid that my feelings aren’t real.”

Tuvok raised an eyebrow. “Are they?” he asked.

Janeway made a face at him. “Of course they are,” she said. “I’m in love with her, but she just doesn’t believe it. The longer we go on this way, the more afraid she becomes, and the less willing she is to … escalate our relationship.”

“I see,” Tuvok said, and stifled another sigh. Honestly, why did he always find himself explaining Human behavior to other Humans? One would assume they would be the experts, rather than he. “She does not know you anymore, Captain,” he said.

Janeway frowned at him. “I’m the one who doesn’t remember her,” she said with a touch of puzzlement. “Her memory is absolutely fine.”

“Captain, she loves who you were,” he explained. “It was easy for you to begin again. You met her, and found a stranger whom you had to rediscover. Seven, however, looks at you, and sees who you used to be. The emotion she is now perceiving, however, is not the same as what she was accustomed to, whether because you display it differently, or because you are a different person now. As a result, Seven cannot trust your feelings, though she perhaps cannot understand why. She needs to comprehend that you are no longer the person she loved. She must learn to love the person you are, just as you learned how to love her.”

Janeway eyed him as if unable to believe what she was hearing. “I must admit, Tuvok,” she said slowly. “I’m surprised at your take on this.”

He tilted his head. “Do you consider it inaccurate, Captain?” he asked curiously.

“No,” she said, astonishment tinging her voice … and excitement. “I think you’ve hit the nail right on the head. It’s so obvious now that you’ve laid it out for me.”

Tuvok allowed himself a certain satisfaction at the accuracy of his conclusions, though it took him a moment to work out the simile. “So your course of action is clear,” he said.

“It is?” she responded, raising an eyebrow curiously.

“You must woo her, Captain,” he said.

“‘Woo her’?” Janeway sat up straight and stared at him. “Excuse me, Tuvok. Did you say I have to ‘woo her’?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is the terminology incorrect?” he asked.

Janeway’s mouth opened, closed, opened again. She looked vaguely like an aquatic animal, he thought idly. A Terran carp, perhaps? He waited patiently for her to regain her composure.

Finally she shook her head, smiling ruefully. “Tuvok, I don’t know what I expected when I came in here, but it certainly wasn’t help on my love life,” she said.

“This is not the first time you have come to me about it,” he said with a certain amount of gentleness.

She stared at him, then brightened suddenly. “Yes,” she said in an odd tone. “We were walking in the corridor. I asked you what I should do about Seven. You advised me to tell her I loved her.” The captain looked very pleased, as she always did whenever she had managed to retrieve yet another fragment of her lost memories.

“You did not agree with that advice,” he reminded her.

“No,” she said. “However, I know you were right then, and you’re probably right now, old friend.” A determined look came over her face. “I’m just going to have to woo her.”

A sudden qualm struck him. “Do you know how to ‘woo’, Captain?” he asked with some concern.

A smile played about her lips, quirking one corner of her mouth. “I believe I can figure it out,” she said dryly.

Seven of Nine entered the astrometrics lab, her mind swirling with equations and the plotting of charts regarding this area of space. She had discovered that if she concentrated very hard on work, it usually kept her from feeling so unhappy and afraid. The absence of those emotions was a welcome relief to her, though it inevitably did not last very long.

She frowned as she saw the clear, crystal vase sitting on her console, a single perfect rose, its petals a deep, almost blood red, filling the air around it with the most delicate of perfume. She hesitated, then picked up the small envelope leaning against the base. Inside was a card, displaying a single phrase in what was clearly handwritten script.

“‘Thinking of you always. K.’”

Seven did not know who K was, or why such a card would accompany a piece of dying vegetation. She wondered if a biological sample intended for exobiology had somehow mistakenly ended up in the astrometrics department. The doors to the lab hissed open, and she glanced over her shoulder to see Lt. Torres. The Klingon/Human hybrid offered an intrigued expression when she caught sight of the rose, and when she held her hand out for the card, Seven obligingly gave it to her.

B’Elanna read it and grinned. “Well, isn’t this romantic.”

“‘Romantic’?” Seven repeated. “Who would do this?”

B’Elanna eyed her. “It’s from the captain,” she said as if she wasn’t sure if Seven was being serious or not. “Who else would it be from?”

Seven blinked. ‘K’ meant Kathryn? She gazed at the rose. “Why would she give me a decomposing plant?” she asked in confusion.

B’Elanna rolled her eyes. “Seven, sending flowers to someone is an attempt to convey an emotion,” she told her. “Roses are especially romantic, and the color denotes what intention the sender has toward the recipient.”

“Explain,” Seven requested, frowning as she looked at her.

B’Elanna blinked. “You really don’t know what this means?” she asked.

“I do not,” Seven said precisely.

“Fine,” B’Elanna said with forced patience. “A white rose signifies purity, that the person’s emotions toward you are innocent and without passion. Tuvok would send a white rose … if he were the type to sent roses, that is. A yellow rose denotes friendship.”

“What does red indicate?” Seven asked, touching one of the crimson petals gingerly, astounded at how velvet soft the texture was.

“Love,” B’Elanna said flatly. “Deep, passionate, head-over-heels love.”

Seven glanced at her uncertainly. “Dead vegetation signifies all that?” Seven said skeptically.

“In Human culture, yes,” B’Elanna said. “Why?”

Seven dipped her head, regarding the flower warily. “The captain says she loves me,” she said.

“Of course she does,” B’Elanna said, frowning.

“It is not the same as what she felt for me before,” Seven elaborated. “It is different.”

“Different, how?”

Seven shook her head. “I cannot explain it,” she said sorrowfully. “It is just not the same as how she felt before.”

B’Elanna studied her. “The captain’s a different person now, Seven,” she said with uncharacteristic gentleness. “However, I do know this, no matter what she’s been through, Captain Janeway would not do something like this unless she meant it. It’s no joke. It’s a completely serious gesture.”

Seven felt confused, lost. “She does not make ‘gestures’ like this,” she said, struggling to understand. “It is not her way.”

“Well, she does now,” Torres pointed out. Seven looked at her unhappily, and B’Elanna picked up the card, trying it from another angle. “This says she’s thinking of you, Seven. How does that make you feel, knowing she would take the time to let you know you’re always on her mind?”

Seven thought about it. “It makes me feel … good,” she admitted finally.

“Then go with it, and quit your bellyaching,” B’Elanna said, obviously at the end of her patience with this topic. “I didn’t come here to talk about this. I want to speak with you about the court martial. What do you intend to say on the stand?”

Seven wondered if the situation she found herself in with Janeway was spilling over into the rest of her life. More and more, she felt like she had no idea what was going on around her. It reminded her uncomfortably of how she felt when she first arrived on Voyager; baffled, afraid, completely at a loss at how to behave or what to say. Then, she had covered it up with an icy demeanor, with a cold arrogance and presumption to hide the deep fear inside. Now, she could only show her confusion.

“The ‘stand’?” she said.

“Yes, Seven,” B’Elanna said, with what was clearly forced patience. “Harry will try to get you to say that I threatened James’s life.”

“You did threaten her life,” Seven responded, puzzled.

B’Elanna rolled her eyes again, and it occurred to Seven that the chief engineer had been doing that quite a lot recently.

“Seven, I didn’t threaten her life,” she said.

“I heard you threaten to kill her,” Seven responded slowly. “Several times in a variety of ways.”

“But, I didn’t mean it,” B’Elanna protested.

“Didn’t mean that you would kill Lt. James, or didn’t mean that you were going to use several methods?” Seven asked and immediately stepped out of arm’s length, glad that she had when B’Elanna promptly slammed her fist into the console, leaving a respectable dent.

“Are you trying to drive me crazy, Seven?” she yelled.

“Is that a rhetorical question?” Seven wondered.

B’Elanna froze, dark eyes glaring at the Borg who took another involuntary step backward. Taking a long slow deep breath, B’Elanna unclenched her fists, one finger at a time, and smiled. It was a very insincere smile, Seven thought uneasily.

“Seven,” B’Elanna said with careful enunciation. “I am always threatening to kill various people, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” Seven responded positively, feeling a bit relieved that she could answer at least one of B’Elanna’s questions with some conviction that it was the correct response. “You have threatened to kill me in a most unpleasant manner no less than seventeen times.”

“And how many times have I actually killed you?” B’Elanna said.

Seven considered that very carefully, wondering if it were some kind of trick question. “You have never killed me,” she said slowly.

B’Elanna let out an exaggerated exhalation. “Exactly,” she said. “That’s all you have to say to Harry.”

“Harry knows you have not killed me,” Seven pointed out.

“He will ask you, however,” B’Elanna told her, eyes starting to glaze over.

Seven blinked. “How do you know this?” she asked.

B’Elanna stared at her for several moments. “Seven, do you know what a court martial is?” she asked.

“It is a military court to try persons subject to military law,” Seven recited. “A trial by such a court.”

“But, do you know what that means?” B’Elanna asked. “Do you understand what’s going to happen with Lt. James?”

Seven frowned. “Lt. James had been judged to have done wrong,” she said slowly. “The captain is punishing her by confining her to the brig, just as she used to confine me in the cargo bay when I made a mistake. That is ‘Starfleet’ justice. Kathryn said that she must not face Klingon justice or Borg justice.” She paused. “I do not believe the Borg have such a concept as ‘justice’. If a drone is flawed and cannot be repaired, then it is destroyed.”

“Seven, James is in the brig awaiting her court martial,” B’Elanna corrected. She leaned against the console. “It hasn’t already happened. She will be tried for attempting to murder the captain and me. If she is convicted, then she will be punished.”

“Oh,” Seven said. She raised an eyebrow, her eyepiece glinting briefly in the muted light. “She is not being punished now?”

“No,” B’Elanna said. “If the attempted murder of the captain is switched over to a mutiny charge, James could be hung.”

“‘Hung’?” Seven said, unsure what it meant.

“Yeah,” B’Elanna said and got that tone in her voice she always did when discussing something brutal. A mix of fascination, anticipation, and a slight repulsion. “A rope would be tied around her neck, and she’ll be dropped through a trapdoor which it would either snap her neck or suffocate her … assuming that’s the sentence, of course.”

Seven felt vaguely repulsed herself. What an inefficient way to terminate someone. Surely they could come up with something better than that. Perhaps she could offer a list of more efficient and quicker methods, though it seemed that this method was a tradition of sorts, unquestionably Human.

“I do not believe the captain would agree to that,” Seven said slowly. Though she did wonder. The Janeway she knew would never have agreed to it. Seven had no way of knowing what the current Janeway would agree to.

B’Elanna shrugged. “Perhaps. There’s no question, James is in a lot of trouble. We have to make sure our stories are straight when we’re called to give testimony.”

Seven felt very frustrated. “‘Testimony’?”

B’Elanna sighed loudly. “Seven, just do some research on it, will you?” she said.

Seven thought that was the most comprehensible thing the chief engineer had said since she arrived. She would indeed do some research on court-martial, beyond the listed meaning in the database.

Also on Human traditions regarding romance. It appeared that she was missing something very important there, as well.

Janeway regarded her holoprogram with satisfaction. A soft breeze, tangy with salt spray, tangled her hair, while overhead, seagulls drifted in an azure sky devoid of clouds, the sound of their cries carried on the wind. The steady rush of waves curling in a snowy foam, lined the white sand beach, and the reddish-brown stone of jagged cliffs rose up behind her.

Perfect, she thought.

She heard the whine of the holodeck door opening, the muted thunk as it slid back to admit a newcomer. She did not look back, not wanting to see the incongruity of a door appearing in her scenario. She heard it close, then sensed, rather than heard, the approach of the woman she was meeting here.

Seven stopped beside her, regarding the ocean view with an odd look on her face.

“I do not understand,” she said. “Is this not time for our workout? Where is the pool?”

“‘Workout’ is such a tedious word, Annika,” Janeway said, smiling as she shaded her eyes with a hand, squinting from the sun sparkling off the turquoise water. “We’re still going swimming, but for a change, we’re going to try salt water instead of fresh or chlorinated.” She glanced at Seven, arching a brow at her partner’s uncomprehending look. “Do you object?”

Seven hesitated. “No,” she said finally. “However, I have never swam in ‘salt’ water.”

“Then, it will be a new experience,” Janeway offered reasonably. She ran her eyes over Seven’s outfit, the traditional black undergarments which doubled, as so many things were required to on Voyager, for a purpose they were not initially intended for. A top was a half bra, baring arms, cleavage and some abdomen. The pants went down to mid-thigh, matching what the captain herself wore. She smiled again. “Computer, alter our garments to reflect this setting.”

Janeway was suddenly garbed in a one piece bathing suit, slate blue with a diamond opening on her stomach. It was brief and clinging, but not nearly so much as Seven’s new garment. The Borg was now wearing silver triangles of cloth covering strategic parts of her, held on by thin spaghetti strings. The captain stifled a grin.

Seven looked down at herself with equal parts puzzlement and dismay. “This is inefficient,” she said, frowning. “It offers no form of protection or warmth. I may as well be wearing nothing at all.”

Janeway bit the inside of her cheek to stifle the obvious response to that. Easy Katie, she thought. No more of that. We’re going slow, remember? Patience had never been her strongest attribute, but she was determined to display some now … for both their sakes.

“It’s ornamental,” she explained quietly. “I think you look very beautiful.”

Seven regarded her uncertainly, then looked back at the water. “Is swimming different in salt water?” she asked, changing the subject.

Janeway reached out and took Seven’s hand, gratified when the young woman did not resist as she led her down to the water’s edge.

“We’re more buoyant in salt water, Annika,” she explained as they entered the simulated sea. “The motion of the waves is a constant to be dealt with, as is the undertow which is a current that flows counter to them.”

Seven looked apprehensive. “Currents are dangerous,” she said.

Janeway remembered from the logs she had read, that Seven had fallen into a fast moving river not so long ago, and had been carried helplessly along, almost drowning. She squeezed the hand reassuringly.

“Seven, we’re still in the holodeck with the safeties engaged,” she reminded her. “This undertow is not dangerous. It’s merely present. I just want you to know what to expect, that the water will be in constant motion about us, but that the movement can also provide entertainment.”

“Indeed,” Seven said noncommittedly, moving gingerly in the waves which washed over her legs, hopping slightly as each one passed.

“Yes,” Janeway said. “I’m going to show you how to body surf.” Seven glanced at her, and Janeway could see her mouthing the unfamiliar term. “Come on,” she urged. “Let’s get wet, and then I’ll show you what I mean.”

They went out beyond the breakers, Janeway having programmed this scenario very carefully so that the sea beyond where the water crested was still shallow enough to stand upright, though it did reach her chin and lifted her off her feet as the waves passed. Seven, who was taller, merely stood upright, though she swayed with the motion, uncertainty still coloring her eyes. It would not get deeper than this no matter how far they went out, which of course, made the size of the waves impossible. However, that was what a holodeck was for. It didn’t need to incorporate the natural laws of physics or nature when creating a scenario. Janeway was content that Seven would not find herself in water too deep to deal with, as she got used to all the differing currents flowing around her.

Janeway dunked her head under, getting her hair wet, then materialized a short board made from a material that shared many characteristics of styrofoam, only without the harmful side effects to the environment.

“Watch,” she instructed Seven.

The captain proceeded to let the wave carry her in, her torso supported by the board, letting it tumble her over at the end. She did this a few times before Seven felt confident about trying it herself, but when the Borg finally did, the broad smile that spread over her face was far more reward than Janeway’s teaching had warranted. The captain felt her heart ache as she saw the obvious delight in her partner’s face and she realized suddenly how she could have let Seven indulge in childlike behavior without repercussion. Just to see that expression was almost more than she could bear, and she had to blink back tears as she watched Seven play in the water. Even being bowled over by the larger than average wave the holodeck threw in just to be interesting did not dim that bright expression, and their allotted time for the program went by far too quickly.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Janeway asked curiously as they walked back to their quarters afterward.

“Very much,” Seven said, still beaming. “May we do that again?”

“Certainly,” Janeway told her, smiling gently, pleased that her idea had not only been acceptable, but also enjoyed profoundly. Soon she hoped she would be able to get the young woman to spend some time walking on the beach, rather than merely working out on it. “Every time if you’d like. You definitely get exercise surfing.”

“It did not feel like our traditional workout,” Seven said as they entered their cabin, and were greeted by an enthusiastic Jake. “It was fun.”

“Workouts can be fun,” Janeway said with gentle humor as she scooped up Jake, scratching his ears. “In fact, they’re much more effective that way.”

Seven nodded thoughtfully as she made her way over to the kitchenette to prepare Jake’s supplement. Janeway put the pup down, and with him leaping happily around her as she walked, she went into the ensuite to change. She drew on a simple dress, a dark, forest green, and touched a bit of perfume to her pulse points. She had been very aware of Seven this day, achingly sensitive to her presence, more so than she suspected she normally would be were things more physical between them. However, she resolved to ignore her desire. The important thing was to guide Seven to a point where she could fall in love with Janeway again, not simply try to seduce her into bed.

After all, she thought as she regarded her reflection in the mirror, isn’t that what real love is? Putting the other person’s happiness before your own? She wondered if she had always followed that belief, or if she let her own desires and demands get the better of her. Somehow, she suspected she had. That’s what starship captains did when it came to their personal lives, after all. The career came first, then everything else second.

A wisp of memory crossed her mind, of deliberately knocking over the two statues sitting on the shelf next to the couch. Ugly, repulsive little things, she had wanted them gone, and her staged clumsiness had shattered them impressively. Guilt suddenly filled her, compounded by the sudden knowledge that Seven had been more concerned that Janeway had hurt herself, than by the loss of her favorite knickknacks. Obviously, the artwork had been replicated since then, because there were two more ugly sculptures currently sitting on the shelf , but Janeway was very aware that they weren’t exactly the same as they had been. Seven must have known that too, but the captain could not remember if the Borg had ever mentioned it. She wondered if they were still Seven’s favorites.

“You, my dear,” she said out loud, frowning at her reflection, “are a manipulative bitch. I’m not surprised she hasn’t fallen in love with you, again. She’s probably became too smart for that.”

“Kathryn? Did you say something?”

Seven’s voice floated in from the outer room, and Janeway blushed faintly. “It was nothing,” she replied loudly. “I was just talking to myself.”

Seven appeared in the ensuite doorway a moment later, looking at her with concern. “You do not talk to yourself,” she said.

Janeway smiled. “Now, I do,” she replied gently. She was suddenly aware of Seven’s eyes tracing the slim line of her dress, the way it clung to her hips, and emphasized her rather meager chest, trying not to react though she felt a definite tingling snake through her.

“You look very appealing,” Seven said in an quiet voice.

Janeway offered her a wide smile. “Thank you,” she said. “I like to look good for you.”

She eased past the young woman, careful not to brush against her any more than necessary, and went back out into the other room. Seven followed her, obviously disconcerted, though Janeway refused to notice.

“What’s for dinner?” Janeway asked. “Or is it my turn to ‘cook’ tonight?”

Since recovering from her injury, Janeway had taken it upon herself to prepare a certain amount of the couple’s dinner menus, using the replicator to program complete meals, a variety of alien dishes from the Alpha Quadrant’s many cultures.

“It is my night,” Seven said hastily, and went into the kitchen. There was a glass of wine on the counter, and Janeway perched herself on the stool there, sniffing appreciatively at the warm bouquet, then sipping it, rolling it around on her tongue as she savored the flavor.

“Very nice,” she said approvingly, watching as Seven prepared their dinner.

“It is from that last system,” Seven responded. “I was able to secure two bottles in the marketplace.”

“While I was negotiating with that offensive governor?” Janeway replied, raising an eyebrow. “Whatever would I do without you, darling?”

Seven looked at her uncertainly, as if unsure that Janeway was sincere, and the captain smiled warmly at her, raising the glass in a half salute. Reassured, Seven began layering the strips of duck breasts on a bed of spiced rice before covering them with a tangy orange sauce.

Janeway’s mouth watered as she regarded the dish being prepared, and she thought about how fortunate she was that she had someone who cared enough to do special things for her, like make her favorite dishes. A sudden thought crossed her mind as she got up to set the table. She knew preparing food was Seven’s gift to her, and it occurred to Janeway that by her insisting on making her own alien dishes, Seven might feel the captain no longer wanted or appreciated her gift. She frowned briefly as she analyzed this idea. Was it possible?

Glancing at Seven, seeing the youth and inexperience represented in her smooth face, Janeway realized it very well could be. One more thing that was adding to Annika’s fear and uncertainty. She waited until Seven had set the dish down on the table, then wrapped her arms around the slender waist, looking up into the narrow features with a very sincere expression.

“Annika,” she said softly. “I want you to know how much I love you preparing all my favorite meals. I only hope my gift of new and unusual dishes can somehow bring you the same joy as this does me.”

Seven stared at her in obvious surprise, and Janeway knew that she had guessed right.

“I did not realize,” Seven said huskily, as she hugged the captain back. “Thank you for your gift.” She paused. “As well as for the rose you gave me.”

Janeway smiled at her. “I’m glad you liked it,” she said. She rested her knuckles briefly on Seven’s cheek. “I didn’t know if you liked roses, but I took a chance. They’re my favorites.”

“They are?” Seven said, surprised again. “You like flowers?”

“Oh yes,” Janeway said in a softer voice. “I love their color, their fragrance, and especially how very romantic they make me feel.” She had an incredible urge to kiss Seven then, but instead, she forced herself to draw away, taking a seat at the table.

Seven hesitated, then sat down as well. They ate quietly, but for some reason, Janeway did not feel the same strain that previous meals had encountered. This was more comfortable, a companionable silence that did not need to be broken. She hoped this meant she was on the right track.

“Are you on duty tonight?” she asked when they had finished, and she was helping Seven clear the table.

“No,” Seven replied. “However, I have research to do. I wish to find out more about this court martial. I thought I understood what it was, but now I realize I do not.” She paused. “I am discovering that about a great many things.”

Janeway nodded thoughtfully. “That’s a good idea since you’ll probably be called as a witness at some point,” she said.

“‘Witness’,” Seven echoed, looking at her.

Janeway started to answer, stopped, thought about it, and reformulated her reply. “I could explain the term, Annika,” she said, depositing the last utensil in the recycler. “I think it would be clearer if you studied the whole thing yourself, however, rather than me giving you bits and pieces.”

“I understand,” Seven said.

She went over to her work station while Janeway fished a ball out from beneath the couch. Jake tried to help her in his puppy way, mostly by stepping all over her back, which caused her to laugh heartily, and Seven to glance over with a small smile. Janeway played with the pup for an hour, then spent another thirty minutes trying to teach him how to shake hands. She didn’t know how successful it was, but it was relaxing, and he actually seemed to have grasped the concept before inevitably growing bored with the lesson, his attention span fairly limited at this age. Later, she curled up with him on the couch as she read a departmental report from biometrics, his head resting on her lap.

Seven was still deep in her research when Janeway finally yawned, and stood up, nudging Jake off her leg. He sighed and remained collapsed on the couch, apparently deciding that it was much preferable to his own puppy bed. She went over to Seven, and deposited a warm kiss on the back of her neck, trying to ignore the way the young woman flinched slightly in surprise.

“Good-night, darling,” she said gently, stroking her hair lightly.

“Good-night, Kathryn,” Seven replied.

Janeway was aware of the Borg’s eyes following her into the bedroom, but did not offer a glance back. She undressed next to the wall where she wouldn’t be seen from the work area, and pulled on a pair of sedate, oversized pyjamas. She crawled into bed where she dozed until Seven joined her an hour or so later. She rolled over and snuggled up to the long, lanky form, reaching up to kiss Seven gently.

“Pleasant dreams,” she whispered, and lay her head on Seven’s shoulder.

She was gratified to feel the tension ease immediately from the young woman’s body, and realized that she really had been pushing Seven far too hard the past few weeks. She had not managed to prove her love at all, instead, all she had done was scare the young woman away. Now, that she was no longer pursuing her so strenuously, Janeway got the impression that Seven was able to relax and pay attention to Kathryn herself, rather than her intentions.

Who would have thought? she mused, as she drifted off to sleep. Tuvok actually does know what he’s talking about.

Seven woke up instantly, a trait of her Borg programming. One second she was unconscious, the next, she was fully functional, clear headed and ready for the day. Her eyes flew open, and she was startled to see Janeway lying on her side next to her, propped up on one elbow, looking at her with a disturbing intensity. Seven blinked. Janeway rarely woke before she did.

“Good morning,” Janeway said softly. She leaned over and kissed Seven.

At first, Seven flinched, but this kiss was not demanding or desiring something more than she was ready to give. It was gentle and sweet and very … Seven searched for the proper word. It was ‘loving’ she thought in a sort of daze, an incredible tenderness echoing through the sensation like never before. She was breathless when Janeway finally pulled away, gazing into the marvelous eyes that were a warm blue, with just a hint of soft grey.

“Good morning,” Seven replied huskily.

“I made you breakfast in bed,” Janeway said brightly.

While Seven was trying to figure out what that meant, Janeway rolled off the bed and picked up a tray which was sitting on the night stand. At the captain’s motion with her head, Seven obligingly sat up against the pillows, looking with bemusement at the stasis covered dishes covering the tray, which Janeway placed on her lap, at the crystal vase which held another of those perfect red roses.

She looked back at Janeway. “I do not understand,” she said. “What is the purpose of this?”

“It’s to show I care, Annika,” Janeway explained gently.

She disappeared into the ensuite, leaving Seven feeling quite confused … but in a very pleasant sort of way. She regarded the tray for a moment, then gingerly reached out and deactivated the stasis lids, wondering how Janeway had managed to do this without waking her. She thought about it, then remembered that Janeway had gotten up in the middle of the night for what Seven had assumed was a form of biological necessity. Because of that, Seven had allowed herself to fall back to sleep, only vaguely aware of Janeway rejoining her an unspecified amount of time later. Perhaps that was when the captain had replicated the meal, and certainly, the stasis lids would keep everything fresh and hot no matter how long the tray had sat on the night stand.

She sniffed appreciatively at the warm aroma rising from the rather large western omelet covering the plate next to the two slices of toast. There was also a crystal bowl of strawberries with heavy cream, orange juice, apple juice, and the herbal tea that Seven had grown fond of. All in all, it was far more breakfast than she normally ate but clearly represented a great deal of preparation and care. She glanced up as Janeway exited the ensuite, dressed in her uniform, sweeping her hair back with a single clip.

“Would you like to get together for Velocity this afternoon?” Janeway asked, snagging herself a strawberry out of the bowl.

“I would like that,” Seven said. “What time?”

“Let’s shoot for just after our duty shifts,” Janeway said. “Around 1700?”

“That would be acceptable,” Seven agreed.

Janeway smiled warmly. “Great, I’ll meet you in holodeck two.” She leaned over and kissed Seven again, tasting of strawberries and cream.

Seven could hear the captain talking to Jake as she left their quarters, and she looked down at her breakfast, raising an eyebrow. That was different, she noted wonderingly. She heard Jake’s paws rasp over the rug as he came into the bedroom, and his head suddenly appeared over the edge of the bed as he lifted his still pudgy puppy body up onto the side. His ears perked as he eyed the breakfast tray with great interest.

“No,” she warned as he made a leap for it, failing utterly in his attempt, crashing to the deck with a muted thud. His head appeared again, and he looked at her with warm brown eyes, moist and sad. “I will feed you presently,” she promised him. She took a bite of her omelet, attempting to ignore him.

He barked once, and fell back on the deck, rolling over and gazing up at her, paws bent pleadingly. It was a submissive pose, designed to inspire compassion from her. Despite knowing that, she reached down, and rubbed his belly, then, after glancing around to see that no one was looking, she offered him a considerable piece of her omelet.

He snapped it up eagerly, and carried it triumphedly into the other room. Feeling somewhat guilty, Seven finished her breakfast and got up, noting that she had left crumbs scattered about the sheets even though she was a fastidious eater. Perhaps that was the reason Humans had learned to eat off a table, rather than where they slept, she thought as she stripped off the linens and remade the bed. She took a quick shower, and selected her brown mesh uniform to wear this day. Carrying the tray out to the recycler, she fed it through the recycler, then replicated Jake a proper breakfast, though he seemed less enthusiastic than normal over it. She resolved not to feed him ‘people food’ again, no matter how much he enjoyed it.

She carried the rose with her when she left her quarters, intending to add it to the one in astrometrics so that she could look at both, and smell their fragrance all through the day. In her lab, she began to transcribe the charts for the upcoming systems while running diagnostics on the long range sensors, which was still showing slight damage from the nebula they had been forced to hide in. Later in the morning, Lt. Kim joined her, and together, they worked on the navigational array, extending its capacity to pick up abnormalities from a greater distance. The handsome young lieutenant seemed more subdued than normal, and she wondered if it had anything to do with the duties he was performing in the court martial. She had a greater appreciation for his role as defense counsel now that she had researched the procedure thoroughly.

“Lt. Kim, may I ask you a question?” she asked.

“Go ahead,” he replied warily. Like all members of the crew, he had leaned that Seven knew little about what was ‘proper’ to ask, though she thought she had been developing some ‘tact’ recently.

“Have you ever had ‘breakfast in bed’?”

He blinked, startled, and she realized that he had been expecting some other question. He grinned with what seemed relief.

“Yeah,” he said. “I have.” His face grew slightly distant, as he apparently remembered another time. “There was a girl I was with in the Alpha Quadrant. She used to surprise me, sometimes. Libby was very fond of breakfast in bed.”

Seven raised an eyebrow. “It was a surprise for you?”

He nodded. “Yeah, she only did it once in a long while,” he explained, “but it was special every time.”

“Is eating in bed that much more enjoyable than eating at the table?” Seven said, in honest puzzlement. “It seems inefficient.”

Harry took a breath. “It isn’t the fact that you’re eating breakfast in bed, Seven,” he explained patiently. “It’s the gesture.”

“The ‘gesture’,” Seven echoed.

He paused, clearly searching for words. “It’s something you do for someone you really care about,” he said. “It means that … well, I’m not sure what it means exactly, but just take it from me, it’s very romantic.” He favored her with a grin, faintly bittersweet. “Are you planning to serve the captain breakfast in bed?” he asked.

“No, she served it to me,” Seven replied honestly. “This morning.”

“Oh,” he said. He hesitated, thinking about it. “Wow, I never would have pegged the captain as a romantic.”

Seven frowned. “She is not,” she said. “At least, she was not before her injury.”

Harry reached out a hand, and rested it on the Borg’s shoulder in a friendly, supportive way. “She’s not the same person, Seven,” he said sympathetically. “She’s not who she was before the explosion.” He shook his head. “She’s not who she was from three years ago, either,” he added thoughtfully. “She’s more…” He trailed off. He looked at Seven. “I can’t really explain what she’s more of,” he admitted. “However, she’s still a great captain.”

“I have never doubted her abilities,” Seven said, trying to assimilate this new bit of data. She had not known Janeway three years ago, and had assumed how Janeway was acting now, was how she acted then. Now, Lt. Kim was saying that her assumption was inaccurate. It forced her to re-examine how she was perceiving things.

He put his hand down, suddenly self conscious, clearly looking for something to say to break the sudden silence that had fallen between them. “You know, I wonder if Libby and I will still be in love when we return,” he said idly.

She stared at him, blinking. “You do not know?” she asked. “Did you stop loving her?”

“No,” he responded. “I’m a different person than what she remembers, though, and I’ll bet she’ll have changed a lot too. Who knows what would happen between us?”

Seven absorbed this, examining it from all angles. “How would it be if you had been aware of everything she had gone through, but she had not been aware of you?” she asked slowly.

He blinked, trying to work that out. “You mean if I had somehow monitored her life from the Delta Quadrant all this time?” he asked.

“Precisely,” she said.

He thought about it. “I still wouldn’t know her, Seven,” he said finally. “Without being able to talk to her, without being a part of her life, she would have changed in ways that I could not see. She would have become different inside, and I think I would have to get to know her all over again.”

“Would you still love her?” Seven asked keenly.

“Maybe,” he said. “Or maybe not, but it would have to be the person she is now that I fall in love with, not the girl I used to know.”

Seven stared at him nonplused, feeling as she had when she had stood in the brig of Arturis’s ship and realized that she did not want to become a drone again, did not want to return to the Collective, did not ever want to be Borg. Afraid, uncertain, but oddly expectant about the future, eager to discover what kind of person she would now become. Starting all over again, as if being reborn into an entirely new being.

Just as Janeway had.

Seven wondered how she could have overlooked something that was so obvious.

“I must learn how to love her again,” she said faintly.

Harry eyed her curiously. “I’m sorry, did you say something?” he asked.

She blinked, allowing him to come back in focus, then smiled, a rare, wonderful smile, one that spread across her face like the bright light from a nova. It did not fade until she realized she did not know how to go about learning how to love her partner again. She was never really sure what had inspired the emotions in the first place, only that they had grown stronger the more time she spent with Kathryn. Perhaps the captain was trying to help her fall in love again, which was the reasoning behind all these ‘gestures’.

I will not fail, she thought with determination. I will fall in love with Kathryn, again.

“Seven, is something wrong?” Harry said with concern, having been dazzled by the smile, and only now recovering.

“No, nothing is wrong,” Seven said. “Everything is all right.”

“Oh,” he said, bemused. “Good.”

She favored him with another smile, a more subdued one, curling both corners of her mouth. “May I ask you another question?”

“Sure, go ahead,” he answered readily.

“Why did you agree to represent Angela James?” she asked. “Many of the crew are upset over it.”

His face clouded up, and he shook his head ruefully. “That’s what I thought you were going to ask me in the first place,” he said in a dark voice. “Everyone else does.” He looked at her challengingly. “Don’t you think she deserves a fair trial, Seven?”

She blinked. “I have not considered it,” she said honestly. “When I discovered she had hurt Kathryn, I wished only to destroy her, but Kathryn said I must not, that it would be wrong for me to administer a Borg solution to the problem. It is no longer of relevance to me.”

Harry frowned at her, as if unable to grasp what Seven was saying. “Waitaminute, don’t you hate her?” he said.

Seven considered it. “I do not know her,” she said. “I am concerned only for Kathryn, this crew and this ship. Lt. James is no longer of our Collective.”

“Then, why did you initially try to kill her?” he asked in an odd tone.

“Because she is faulty,” Seven explained, reasonably. “She damaged the ship and the crew. Flawed members of the Collective which cannot be repaired must be destroyed.” She paused, thinking about it. “I do not believe that she can be repaired, but Kathryn said I must not destroy her, that it was not the proper Human procedure when dealing with such things. I obey the will of the Human Collective now.”

He grinned suddenly, and for some reason, it made Seven uneasy though she did not know why.

“Seven, I’m going to call you as a witness for the defense,” he said.

“Very well,” she said promptly. So B’Elanna and Kathryn had been right, she was going to be called as a witness. It relieved her now that the uncertainty was over, and wondered if she had to study some form of behavior to act as a witness. All her research had found was that she would be expected to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Seven was very good at that.

Captain Janeway regarded the fore viewscreen idly. Stars were a big improvement over nebula dust but sometimes even their grandeur got a little boring. Especially since she had caught up on all the work requiring her attention in her ready room and there was nothing else to do but sit here and watch them pass as she held the conn. Still, it was good for the crew to see her on the bridge, see her sitting in that command chair which fit her so easily and so well. It was where she belonged and in some, undefinable way, they sensed that, becoming uneasy when she spent large amounts of time away from it.

The helm was manned by Tom Paris but he was the only other senior crewmember on the bridge at the moment, the rest of the stations covered by lower ranked personnel. Harry Kim was working in astrometrics, Chakotay was off doing something about the biometrics department which was having trouble with its equipment, and Tuvok had been excused to work on the court martial.

Which would be starting in a day or two, Janeway knew, though she would be unable to find out the details until after she had delivered her complete testimony. Only then, would she would be free to sit in as an observer. She wondered how Harry was doing in his role as defense counsel, and if he had come up with a solid case for Angela James. She really had no idea, despite Tuvok’s speculation, as to what the young lieutenant had planned. She wished she could ask him why he had taken the case, but realized she didn’t dare until after the trial was all over.

Janeway felt her thoughts drifting from ship’s business to more personal concerns, of the surprise for Seven she had pulled off that morning. She rarely caught the Borg asleep, but when she came out of the ensuite sometime in the night, she had noted that Seven had dozed off, providing her with the opportunity to sneak out to the replicator, and make the young woman ‘breakfast in bed’. She wondered what her next move should be. A sail on the lake on Triad Seven? A picnic in the Great Park of Devarian Prime? Dancing by moonlight in an exclusive Risa nightclub?

Or perhaps she should try something that did not include the holodeck which, truth be told, sometimes gave a sense of artificiality to things. There was an area on the bottom of Voyager’s saucer section where the hull was made of transparent aluminum, usually kept opaque, but could be altered back to its normal state. Janeway wasn’t sure what the designers of the ship had in mind by creating it, but it had no real purpose in terms of running the ship. It was just a small chamber set beneath one of the access corridors running along that deck.

She didn’t think most people on the ship knew about it, and the few who did were quite uncomfortable being in it while the hull was made transparent, giving them the impression they were standing on nothing, while the hull of the ship loomed over them somewhat menacingly. Janeway, on the other hand, absolutely adored it, and she especially appreciated it when the ship was traveling at impulse or warp, rather than when Voyager had landed on a planet’s surface. She liked the feeling of being detached from her ship, moving among the stars as if she had been born there, unencumbered by a space suit.

She wondered how Seven would react to a picnic in space?

I’ll just have to find out, she thought with pleasurable anticipation, and began making the arrangements, shutting off that section of the ship for ‘maintenance’. Then, she transmitted a sealed priority memo to Neelix, requesting a picnic basket filled with a variety of things that she listed in great detail, while giving him the authorization and intership coordinates for him to beam it into that chamber. She hoped that he would keep it quiet, and decided he would since Neelix was much less apt to share such things with the crew than say, B’Elanna Torres was.

A bit of memory crossed her mind, a fleeting image of a Klingon body hurdling over her, and a sudden splash in silver water. She felt annoyance, a touch of anger, though who or what it was directed at, she wasn’t sure. Janeway chased after it, trying to pin it down, but was unsuccessful. Sometimes having no memory, she considered, was better than the little bits that came to her from nowhere, these fragments forming incomplete in her brain, unable to find the context for the emotion which accompanied them.

She checked the time on the small chronological display on her monitor screen, and began the process of logging off duty. She had a date with Seven for Velocity, and didn’t want to be late. She had been surprised at how good she was at a game she could not remember ever learning to play, but that hadn’t stopped her from continuing her reign as the ‘best player on the ship’. Though she frequently had to put her brain in neutral while competing so that she didn’t trip up her body’s reflexes, they continued to carry her to one victory after another. She derived a great satisfaction in defeating her opponents, even Seven. Or maybe especially Seven, because the Borg was one of the very few players on the ship who could give the captain a good match.

At 1645 hours, Janeway slipped down to her quarters where she fed Jake, then made her way to the small room next to the holodeck which provided shower facilities, serving as a combination dressing and locker room. She stripped off her Starfleet uniform and dressed in a form fitting outfit, red tunic, black leggings, and the heavy Velocity shoes which provided an extra bounce from the specially constructed soles. She could tell from the brown mesh outfit folded neatly on the bench that her partner was already in the court, and she hefted her phaser lightly as she entered the holodeck.

Seven was waiting patiently in the middle of the grid, and Janeway was heartened by the way the pale eyes lit up when they saw her. Despite their recent problems, there was absolutely no question in the captain’s mind that Seven was the person for her. She smiled warmly at her and took her position.

“Ready to get beat?” she taunted.

“I would ask you that,” Seven responded easily, eyes narrowed with a faint grin touching her lips.

That was the other thing Janeway liked about playing Velocity with Seven. No matter what was going on outside, all other things stopped at those holodeck doors, and both women were able to disregard everything else to concentrate totally on the game. It was freeing and very challenging, knowing that no quarter would be asked or given. Janeway had both experience and skill on her side, while Seven was stronger, faster and quick to adapt to any attack. It forced Janeway to keep coming up with new strategies all the time, and utilized every bit of her intellect, physical prowess and cunning to defeat the young woman.

They started their match and as always, both players were pressed to the limit. According to the rules, ten rounds were played. The one with the most rounds was the victor. Should it be tied at five, then an eleventh and deciding round would be played. Janeway usually won the matches at six to four. At four rounds, Seven inevitably became overanxious, pressing too hard to get that next point, a weakness in her game which the captain gleefully exploited again and again.

However, this day, at four rounds apiece, Seven did not lose her composure. Instead, the disc circled Seven so that her back was to the captain. Seven fired … and did not move. Janeway had a brief second of astonishment as she tried to see around Seven, knowing the disc would be rebounding straight back. Too late, she realized what Seven had planned as the taller woman suddenly dropped to the floor, and the disc shot through the space her body had occupied to slam directly into Janeway’s chest.

The disc was not actually solid, and its impact was signified only by a minor electric tingle, but reaction and surprise bowled Janeway over, and she landed solidly on her ass, the deck plates hard beneath her. Seven uncoiled from the floor and looked down at her with cool appraisal, a faint smile touching her lips.

“Impact, Seven of Nine. Round to Seven of Nine. Seven of Nine leads five rounds to four,” the computer chirped.

“Nice,” Janeway said admiringly, propped up on her elbows. “Very sneaky.”

“I require only one more round,” Seven reminded her, holding out her hand which Janeway took, allowing the young woman to haul her to her feet.

“You don’t have it yet,” Janeway retorted with a grin.

They set again and started the tenth round. Play was rapid and intense, Seven having taken to nudging Janeway aside in recent matches, using her greater mass to brush the captain off balance, all within the rules of course. Too hard a bump would immediately be called a fault by the computer, and the round given accordingly to Janeway. Seven had yet to exceed that fine line, and the captain found it an intriguing twist to their play. After all, she played to Seven’s left side all the time, the young woman’s Borg-enhanced eye having a different sort of depth perception than the organic right orb, making it difficult for Seven to handle shots from that side.

Janeway won the round by leaping onto a beam which ran up the side of the holodeck, firing straight down at the disc as it passed which drove it into the floor, sending it skimming over the deck to barely brush Seven’s ankle.

“Impact, Janeway. Rounds are five apiece.”

Seven stared at her utter disgust, and Janeway laughed as she dropped lightly to the deck.

“Call it a draw?” the captain offered. That was an option offered in Velocity. When the match was considered so well played that both players were equal, then they could agree on a tie match. “That way, we both win.”

“Or neither of us do,” Seven pointed out dryly. “I would prefer to play it out.”

Janeway nodded, expecting no less. With a reckless grin, she took her position and began the final and deciding round.

If the previous rounds had been hard fought, this was an all out war. Every shot was brilliant, every move, a carefully designed action intended to win the round and the match. When it was finally decided, however, it was a result of an utter fluke. Seven skidded on a bit of moisture on the deck, no doubt deposited there by Janeway who was perspiring profusely. The young woman, who did not perspire, landed heavily on her back while Janeway, who had been positioning herself for the return shot, landed on top of her. They both tried to twist out of the way, but the disc rebounded off Seven’s knee.

“Full impact, Janeway. Final Round to Janeway. Janeway wins, six to five.”

The captain found herself looking down at Seven, who returned her regard with a sardonic expression. Janeway smiled faintly as she felt the warm body beneath her, the classic features so close to hers. She wanted so badly to kiss her in that moment, but she didn’t, pausing with her lips a mere breath away from Seven’s full mouth.

“You’re getting closer all the time,” Janeway said quietly.

Seven searched her face for a moment. “I believe I am,” she agreed.

For some reason, Janeway didn’t think Seven was talking about the game.

Seven dried off from her shower, and pulled on her mesh outfit. She was pleased with her play, knowing she had almost defeated the captain. Only ‘luck’ had prevented it, and she understood that such things tended to balance out over time. Perhaps the next match, it would be Janeway who would have the misfortune to fall at just the wrong time. She glanced up as the captain joined her, auburn hair left down to fall about her shoulders, her eyes sparkling a warm blue.

“That was fun,” Janeway said. “I’m sorry you fell, however. I didn’t want to win it that way.”

Seven shrugged lightly. “Part of the game,” she said. “I am aware of the conditions under which we play. It could have easily been you who slipped, granting me the easy victory.”

“Luck of the draw,” Janeway agreed, patting her on the shoulder.

They exited the changing room and entered the corridor, Janeway resting her hand on Seven’s elbow. “It’s my turn to make dinner tonight, right?” she asked.

“Yes,” Seven said. Since she had learned that the captain was trying to present her with a gift by preparing dinner, she no longer felt uncomfortable about it. Instead, it now pleased her to know that Janeway would do something for her she would not otherwise do for anyone else. “What do you have in mind?”

“Ah, a surprise,” Janeway said, obviously very pleased with herself. “Not in our quarters, though. I’ve already fed Jake so we don’t have to worry about his supper.”

“Where are we eating?” Seven asked. “In the mess hall?”

“Somewhere much better,” Janeway told her, a sly expression crossing her face.

Seven didn’t know whether to be expectant … or apprehensive. The captain only developed that expression when she was planning something she thought was very clever. The Borg had seen it many times, not only in relation to her, but also when Janeway was about to spring some unpleasant surprise on some unsuspecting alien species who had dared to threaten her ship.

The Borg raised an eyebrow when Janeway led her to the lower level of the saucer section, taking her into a little used access corridor. The captain pried up a panel that Seven had never known was there, and used a small utility ladder to drop down into a small chamber beneath. Her face was a pale oval in the dimly lit room as she gazed back up at Seven.

“Coming?” she invited.

Uncertainly, Seven followed her down into the chamber, straightening with care as the top of her head brushed the underside of the hull. Emergency running lights adorning the area around the opening above her, casting a eerie glow, and she could see Janeway sitting cross legged on the floor, spreading out a red-and-black checkered blanket.

“Have a seat, Annika,” Janeway instructed, digging into a large wicker basket which rested on the deck beside her.

Seven did so, mirroring the captain’s position, frowning slightly as Janeway laid out their repast, a basket of curled bread kept warm by stasis, a tray of cheese, fruit and spreads which conversely were kept cool, and a bottle of wine set in a silver bucket, the sides wet with condensation as it chilled.

“What is this?” Seven asked.

“It’s a picnic,” Janeway explained.

“‘Picnic’?”

Janeway looked at her with an expression of disbelief. “You don’t know what a picnic is?” she said in an oddly stricken voice. “I’ve never taken you on one?”

“No,” Seven said, puzzled.

Janeway shook her head, frowning slightly. “Annika, I know why I adore you,” she said with a touch of sadness in her voice. “I have absolutely no idea why you once fell in love with me, however.”

Seven, who didn’t really understand what Janeway was saying, and made vaguely uneasy by the words, decided a change of subject would be a good move at this time. “What are those?” she asked, pointing at the basket.

“They’re called croissants,” the captain said. She picked one up, handling it gingerly as she pulled it open. Steam rose from the soft, white interior, and she slathered butter on it before handing it to Seven. “Try it.”

Seven bit into the ‘croissant’, finding the warmth and texture very pleasing. “It is good,” she mumbled around the bread.

“It’s French cuisine,” Janeway explained. “That’s an area in the European Section of Earth. The cheeses and the wine are also French. A picnic, by the way, is when you eat outside, usually on the ground in a park setting.”

“Then why did we not eat in the holodeck?” Seven asked curiously, taking another croissant, this time spreading it with a greyish spread which tasted of meat. It was also very tasty, and she savored the unusual texture. “Where you could program a park setting?”

“Because we have to be ‘outside’,” Janeway said. She glanced upward. “Computer, alter hull visibility.”

The walls and floor immediately seemed to disappear, leaving the pair suspended in space while stars streaked by beside and below them. The snowy hull of Voyager stretched majestically above them, and Seven could see all the way to the fore part of the underside of the ship where the name and call letters were emblazoned. She glanced back at Janeway who was regarding her as if she had expecting something more.

“Most people usually react differently when suddenly dropped into space,” Janeway said in an odd sort of tone.

Seven frowned. “The Borg often work in vacuum,” she pointed out. “In any event, we are not truly in space.”

“No, we’re not,” Janeway acceded, offering a somewhat bittersweet smile.

Seven realized that she had disappointed Janeway in some undefinable way, and she looked around again. “It is very … dark,” she tried.

Janeway laughed suddenly. “It’s okay, Annika,” she said ruefully. “I shouldn’t have expected you to react like the average Human.”

“Did you think I would be frightened?” Seven asked.

Janeway thought about it. “Perhaps,” she admitted. “What I really hoped, however, is that you would feel what I feel.”

“How is that?” Seven asked.

“Exhilarated,” Janeway said, looking around. “As if the ship doesn’t exist, and we’re traveling through space itself, like creatures born here.”

Seven tried to imagine being a creature who had evolved in space, not needing artificial life support. She had only a dim idea of what Janeway was feeling.

“I am sorry,” she said, meaning it.

Janeway shook her head, and moved over until she was beside Seven, putting a hand on her arm. “No, darling,” she said warmly. “It’s not necessary that you feel what I do. Just that you understand it.”

“I do,” Seven said. She hesitated. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

“You’re welcome,” Janeway said, staring at her. “I can’t believe I didn’t before.”

Seven tried to find a way to respond to that. “You are not the same person as you were before your injury,” she said finally.

Janeway tilted her head slightly. “No, I’m not,” she agreed gently. “I’m glad you realize that.”

“I am beginning to,” Seven admitted. “It is something I am having difficulty with, however. It is very hard.”

Sliding her hand down Seven’s arm, Janeway entwined her fingers with those of the Borg’s. She dipped her head to capture the young woman’s gaze. “Do you think you could love the person I am now?” she asked quietly.

Seven looked at her. “I want to,” she said. “Very much, but I am not sure how.” She hesitated, trying to find the right words. “I feel as if loving you now, means that what I felt before was somehow … false.”

“Oh, it wasn’t false,” Janeway said gently. “It was very real. I felt it here.” She drew Seven’s hand up, resting it on her chest where the Borg could feel the captain’s heartbeat. “Darling, it’s not as if I’ve forgotten you completely, or what we shared.”

“No?” Seven asked.

“No,” Janeway said softly. “I remember different things about us … such as lying in your arms beneath the stars, and feeling as if I’ve finally come home. Or sitting next to you on the couch, your arm around me, feeling so safe and secure while we talk about nothing in particular. Or crying so hard I can barely breathe, and you’re holding me so tight, telling me that you will never leave me again, making me feel as if the universe had just fallen from my shoulders. Another memory of being so angry at you, I just wanted to knock you through the cargo bay hull, but all I could do is confine you to quarters. Bits and pieces that are not a complete pattern, but are a part of who I am now. In every memory, the emotion I feel for you is so powerful. Those fragments help make up the whole of what I feel for you now.”

She moved closer and leaned her head on Seven’s shoulder. “Annika, I’m sure what I feel for you is love. The question is, what do you feel for me?”

Seven wrapped her arms around Janeway, and drew her close, resting her chin on the tousled hair as she closed her eyes. She could feel her heart pound so hard, she thought it would explode as she tried to forget everything that had come before, tried to concentrate only on what she was feeling at this second, with this woman who shared her home, who sent her flowers and offered her breakfast in bed, who seemed more quick to anger, yet, at the same time, was also more open with the rest of her feelings. Who would take her on a ‘picnic’ in a place Seven didn’t even know existed, yet was clearly one of the captain’s favorite spots on the ship.

“I believe,” Seven said slowly. “That I can love you. I know I can not imagine existing without you.”

Janeway hugged her tightly. “That’s all I can ask for now,” she said softly. “The rest will come.”

Seven drew back and looked into the elegant face, studying it with an absorption that the captain allowed patiently. Finally, she bent down and kissed Janeway carefully, but not as she had in the recent past. No longer holding back, but instead, opening herself to all the emotion she was feeling, Seven allowed the uncertainty and fear to seep through. In the kiss, she felt the warmth of honest love, and the acceptance of her as she was, understanding of her weakness, gathering it up and offering a shared strength and devotion in return.

“Please, help me,” she whispered when they finally parted, resting her forehead against Janeway’s.

“I will,” the captain told her firmly. “You and I belong together, Annika. We’ll find our way back. We’re getting closer every day.”

“Yes,” Seven agreed softly. She felt Janeway’s palm cup her cheek, warm, loving, and she leaned into it, feeling as if she had somehow accomplished something, and could now rest for a brief period in these arms which would keep her safe and secure.

“Hey,” Janeway said after a long while, softly, teasingly. “The croissants are getting cold, and the brie’s getting warm.”

Seven opened her eyes and looked into a gaze which was deeply azure, smiling gently. “I would not want them to go to waste,” she allowed. “They are very good.”

Janeway returned the smile, and sitting side by side, they finished the croissants and the cheese. Later, Janeway reclined against the transparent wall, legs outstretched, coxing Seven into putting her head on the captain’s lap where she fed her grapes, one after another.

Seven could not seem to take her eyes off Janeway’s face, staring hard as if that could somehow allow her to see the changes in her. Janeway tolerated the scrutiny with a sort of gentle amusement, and when Seven gently kissed the fingers placing the grape carefully in her mouth, she could see that the captain was honestly pleased. Seven realized that it had been some time since she had initiated any physically affectionate gestures.

“I enjoy this,” Seven said softly. “I like picnics. You have introduced me to many things recently.”

Janeway nodded thoughtfully. “I’m beginning to understand that,” she said. “I don’t know if I should be glad that I have the opportunity to share new things with you now, or be angry that I held so much back before.”

Seven blinked. “I do not understand.”

Janeway pursed her lips, clearly searching for the proper words. “I think that even though I loved you, Annika, I kept a part of myself hidden from you,” she said quietly. “At least, that’s the impression I get from my logs, from what I discover everyday of being with you. I’m left with the feeling that you don’t know me very well, probably because I didn’t want you to.”

“Why not?” Seven asked curiously.

Janeway took a breath. “Perhaps, I was afraid,” she admitted. “Perhaps, I thought that if you knew me too well, you wouldn’t love me.”

Seven considered that. “And now?”

“Now,” Janeway said thoughtfully, “I’m learning to know myself all over again. Part of that is realizing that I can’t hold things back from you, not if I want you to love me.”

“I do want to know you,” Seven admitted softly.

Janeway smiled gently. “I also don’t think I knew you as well as I originally thought I did either,” she said quietly. “My logs indicated that I felt you were too young for me, that I sometimes treated you very much as the subordinate member in the relationship. I made decisions for you, assumed responsibility for us as a couple, and expected you to accede to whatever I wanted. That might work if I was only your captain. You might have even accepted it as normal in the beginning, because of where you were in your development, but it’s certainly not acceptable now. However inexperienced you were when we began our relationship, the woman I’m learning to know now is a very complex and mature individual; in some ways, far more mature than you should be. You are remarkably intelligent, infinitely intriguing, and boasting the warmest and gentlest heart I’ve ever known. How could I not fall completely and madly in love with you?”

Seven was silent for a long while. “You’ve rarely talked with me like this before,” she said finally.

“No, I don’t suppose I have,” Janeway agreed. “I’ve always been a person of action, Annika, not introspection. The injury has inspired me to examine my life, forced me to learn why I did the things I did, as well as allowing me to be a little more aware of how I act, not only with you, but with everyone. It hasn’t been easy, but I think in some ways, it’s been a very good thing.”

“It would be nice to think some good came of this,” Seven said wistfully.

“It did, my love,” Janeway said softly, leaning down to kiss Seven gently. “I have the chance to know you all over again.”

Janeway completed her testimony, and looked expectantly at Lt. Kim. She had answered as honestly as she knew how to both his questions, and Tuvok’s, holding nothing back, though she had the idea that her lack of memory did not make her an especially good witness for either side. She wondered when Seven would be called, and what she would have to add.

“Captain Janeway,” Harry said. “Is it possible that Lt. James believed that the senior crew would be unhelpful in dealing with her problem?”

“Objection,” Tuvok said calmly, standing up at his prosecution table. “The question calls for speculation on the part of the witness. How could Captain Janeway know what James believed?”

“Sustained,” the Doctor said gravely.

Janeway flicked a glance his way. The Emergency Medical Hologram was taking his role as senior judge advocate extremely seriously, though the other two were equally as grave. Neelix, and Ensign Samantha Wildman from the science department sat attentively to either side of the Doctor, listening closely to everything that was going on.

The captain knew she had surprised a lot of the crew with her choices, but Neelix’s compassion and subjective view of Starfleet protocols would give a nice balance to the panel. Wildman, meanwhile, was a Starfleet officer through and through, as well as a peer of Angela James, having attended the Academy at the same time though she had not known her then nor particularly well, now. She was level headed, responsible, and would go out of her way to be as fair as she could. It was perhaps a greater burden than the ensign thought she was ready for, but the captain had every confidence in her.

“I will rephrase the question,” Harry said. “Captain, if Lt. James had come to you, telling you that Torres had threatened her life, what would have been your response?”

Janeway thought. “I would have tried to reassure her that Lt. Torres would never have hurt her,” she said. “That it was a misunderstanding.”

“Captain, has a Klingon ever threatened your life?” he asked.

She hesitated. “No,” she said.

“If one did, would you take it seriously?”

“Yes, I would,” she said slowly. “Klingons tend to mean what they say, but Lt. Torres is not a full Klingon. She is a hybrid.”

“Suppose she was Human and threatened her life,” he said. “Would you take that seriously?”

“It would depend on the person,” Janeway said doggedly. “B’Elanna is sound and fury, signifying little.”

“But Lt. James would have to know Torres that well,” Harry said with triumph flavoring his voice. “It’s clear from your response that if she had come to you, you would have brushed her off, considered her complaint insignificant. She would have received no help in dealing with a homicidal Klingon.”

“I didn’t say that,” Janeway blurted.

Lt. Kim looked at her in a rather supercilious fashion, and Janeway resisted the urge to clout him across the head. “Captain, did you know about Lt. Torres threatening Lt. James at the time?”

“I don’t know,” Janeway replied regretfully. “I can’t remember.”

He nodded, eyeing her with a heavy lidded gaze. “If it is proven that you were aware of the threat and did nothing?” he asked. “How would you feel then?”

Janeway took a breath. “Then I would have let down a crewmember,” she said, her heart sinking. “I would regret it thoroughly.”

“No further questions.”

She took a breath, slightly annoyed and looked at Tuvok, expecting him to cross examine her, not letting it end on such a bad note, but he merely looked at the panel of judges. “No further questions,” he said.

“Will either of you be recalling this witness?” the Doctor asked.

“No,” Lt. Kim said, putting notations in his padd.

“No,” Tuvok said. He stood up. “The prosecution rests.”

The Doctor looked at Janeway. “You may be excused,” he said. “The defense will now present its case.”

Uncertainly, she got up and left the stand. Since she was now free of future testimony, she was allowed to remain as a spectator, the only person on the ship who could. This was a closed trial, with only a few details being released as it progressed. Once complete, the entire transcript would be available, but in the meantime, there was no need to stir up the ship any more than it already was.

She leaned over to Tuvok in front of her. “Why didn’t you question me again?” she asked in a low tone.

“It would have been illogical to do so,” he replied shortly. “It would have only granted Lt. Kim’s point a significance that it did not deserve.”

Janeway tried to wrap her mind around that one, and settled back in her chair, wishing she hadn’t been the last to give testimony for the prosecution. As a result, she had missed most of what Tuvok had presented, though she knew he had called a variety of other people, including B’Elanna Torres, James’s roommate, Ensign Watts, and Chakotay. He had not called Seven and that confused her. Seven had been present when most of this went on.

“The Defense would like to call its first witness,” Lt. Kim said. “Seven of Nine.”

Startled, Janeway looked back as Seven entered the room. The Borg, alerted that she would be called next, would have been waiting in the outer corridor where security had two guards keeping people not involved in the trial clear of the area.

Seven was a witness for the defense? Janeway thought with confusion. When had that happened? The Borg had practically strangled the woman when she caught her.

Seven was dressed demurely in her brown mesh outfit, every hair in place as she sat primly in her seat, hands folded neatly on her lap. Her gaze briefly intersected with the captain’s, but did not linger. Clearly she was taking her role very seriously, and Janeway was proud of her.

“Seven of Nine,” Lt. Kim said, standing up and strolling over to her. “Will you tell the court what happened Stardate 69432,”

Seven raised an eyebrow. “I regained consciousness at 0500,” she said precisely, in a cool, contained voice. “Captain Janeway was sleeping on top of my back which made it impossible for me to move without disturbing her. As a result, I waited until she woke twenty minutes later. At which time she kissed my ear and my neck, attempting to initiate–”

“In the evening, Seven,” Lt. Kim interrupted hastily. “At approximately 2100.”

Janeway smothered a smile. She thought she saw Samantha Wildman do the same.

“I was in the ensuite preparing for bed,” Seven said. “A call came over the communicator from B’Elanna Torres indicating that Lt. James had entered her quarters and attempted to kill her with a phaser. Lt. Torres was pursuing and continually keeping us updated as to her progress. When the Captain and I left the turbolift on deck nine, I could hear their motion as they approached our location. Lt. James ran around the corner and directly into me which allowed me to apprehend her.”

“What was the captain doing at this time,” Harry asked.

“She was holding B’Elanna against the hull,” Seven replied promptly.

“Why?” Kim eyed her closely.

A faint unease passed over Seven’s face, but she did not hesitate in her answer.

“She was preventing Lt. Torres from attacking Lt. James.”

Harry offered the judges panel a significant look. “If the captain had not been there, what would have happened?” he asked.

“I would have terminated Lt. James,” Seven said matter of factly.

Janeway winced, but knew it to be true.

“I mean with Lt. Torres,” Harry said. “You’re not on trial here,” he added in friendlier voice.

“Neither is Lt. Torres,” Seven responded rather pointedly.

Harry paused, apparently realizing he had made a bit of an error. “Seven, if Lt. Torres had captured Lt. James, do you believe she would have killed her?”

“Objection,” Tuvok said. “Calls for speculation.”

“Sustained,” the Doctor said. Janeway expected that. Tuvok would not object unless it was a point of law and irrefutable.

Lt. Kim walked away for a moment, checked his padd and returned. “Seven of Nine, did Lt. Torres ever threaten Lt. James in your presence?”

Seven hesitated. “Yes,” she said finally.

“Will you please list the occasions in detail,” Harry said.

Now, Seven glanced at Janeway as if for guidance. Unfortunately, the captain could not give it though she did try to show all her love and support in her eyes, offering what she hoped was an encouraging expression.

Seven took a breath and began to list the times that she had heard Lt. Torres threaten the life of the young woman. It took some time since there were twenty-nine separate occasions, varying only in the degree of imaginative ways by which the engineer was planning on doing the woman in.

Harry looked more and more satisfied as the list went on, while Seven grew more and more subdued. She finally finished, head bent, studying her hands. Janeway’s heart went out to her, and anger flared within her at Harry, though she knew he was only doing his job.

“Seven of Nine,” Harry said. “Did B’Elanna Torres try to kill Lt. James after you had captured her?”

“She could not,” Seven said stubbornly.

“Why?” he prodded silkily.

Seven glanced up at Janeway. “Because the captain was holding her back,” she said faintly.

“No further questions,” Harry said.

Tuvok stood up. He did not even bother approaching the stand.

“Seven of Nine, how many times have you heard B’Elanna Torres threaten your life?” he asked.

“Seventeen times,” she replied.

“And Commander Chakotay’s?”

“Before or after they began copulating?”

Janeway’s lips twitched as she saw Tuvok’s neck muscles tighten, but the Vulcan gave no indication in his voice. “Both.”

“Before, four times,” Seven said. “After, ten.”

“Mr. Kim?”

“Twenty-one times. It has increased significantly in the past two weeks.”

Janeway thought she saw Harry flinch a bit.

“Mr. Paris?”

“Four hundred, ninety-three times,” Seven said, and Samantha Wildman made a sound, not a laugh exactly, more like one she had to suppress.

“Myself,” Tuvok asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nineteen times,” Seven said.

“The captain?”

Seven raised her head. “Never,” she said.

Janeway could feel the surprise in the room. She herself was somewhat startled by the answer.

“Never?” Tuvok echoed.

Seven hesitated. “I have never heard her threaten the captain,” she said.

“Why not?” Tuvok asked. It was obvious it had nothing to do with the case, but Harry did not object. Perhaps he was curious, as well.

“Because if she did, I would hold her upside down over the nearest catwalk until she retracted it,” Seven replied. “I believe she was aware of that.”

Another sound from Wildman, and even Neelix, who was uncharacteristically sober smiled faintly. The Doctor smirked and raised an eyebrow.

“Is the prosecution going somewhere with this?” he asked.

“Only to show a pattern of voiced threats that ultimately mean no harm,” Tuvok stated. “Even with people Lt. Torres loved. She is indeed sound and fury signifying little, just as the captain has testified. Everyone on the ship knew that. No further questions.”

Janeway hoped B’Elanna would never read the transcript of this trial. She’d go ballistic.

The Doctor looked at Harry Kim. “Does the defense have anything further to ask of this witness?”

Harry stood up. “Yes,” he said in a firm voice. “Seven, while Lt. Torres may not have attacked anyone else she had threatened, you did see the captain trying to prevent her from attacking Lt. James. Correct?”

Seven hesitated. “Yes,” she said.

“You also know of an instance when Lt. Torres cornered the defendant in a corridor and verbally abused her, as well as physically pushing her against a bulkhead?”

“Lt. Torres told me, yes,” Seven said.

“Did you tell the captain of this?” he asked.

Seven blinked. “I tell Kathryn everything,” she said.

“What was the captain’s reaction?”

Seven looked thoughtful. “She indicated that it was none of her concern,” she said. “That it was a matter for Lt. Torres and Lt. James to work out, and she advised me not to tell anyone else.”

Janeway felt her head pound. There was no question this was probably being taken out of context, but she had no way of putting her finger on where, completely unable to remember the incident, at all.

Harry looked at the panel of judges. “No further questions.”

“Cross?” the Doctor asked Tuvok.

“Yes,” Tuvok said. He stood up and approached the stand. “Seven, do you understand why the captain indicated it was none of her concern?”

Harry stood. “Objection,” he said. “Calls for speculation.”

“Esteemed panel,” Tuvok said. “Seven is partnered with Captain Janeway, and knows her better than anyone. With the captain’s memory loss, only Seven could offer some clue as to why the captain would overlook this.”

The Doctor held up his hand. “One moment,” he said. He, Neelix and Wildman huddled briefly, conversing in very low tones, then the Doctor looked at Tuvok. “The objection is sustained. Regardless of Seven’s personal relationship with the captain, she cannot speak for her.”

Tuvok took a breath and tried again. “Seven, when you told the captain this, how did you tell her? Can you tell me the setting where the conversation regarding this bit of information took place?”

Seven regarded him with wide eyes. “It was while I was preparing dinner for myself and the captain,” she said slowly. “The captain usually sits by the counter and watches as I carry out my tasks. I was telling her the many things which were happening on the ship, and I mentioned that Lt. Torres had challenged Lt. James because the science officer had been saying negative things about the engineer. The Captain informed me that such information, as well as the other data I was relating to her, was ‘gossip’, and that I had too great an interest in things that did not concern me. That I should not acquire such a unfortunate habit from Lt. Torres.”

“So it was a casual mention, amongst a great many other items of data regarding the personal lives of the crew,” Tuvok said. “No more important than the fact Harry Kim has a ‘crush’ on you.”

Harry stood up, clearly offended but could not formulate a proper objection. The Doctor frowned at Tuvok. “The prosecution will refrain from baiting the defense counsel,” he said.

“That was not my intention,” Tuvok said with such Vulcan aplomb that Janeway knew it had been exactly his intent.

He looked back at Seven. “You gave it no emphasis,” he clarified. “Did you think that B’Elanna was serious in her threat against Lt. James?”

“I did not at the time,” Seven said, her face clouded. Janeway realized that the young woman was becoming upset and confused by what was happening. She firmed her jaw, hoping that Tuvok was aware of that as well.

“And now?” Tuvok said.

“I … I do not know,” Seven said softly. Janeway closed her eyes, knowing Tuvok had asked one question too many. However, if he had not, Harry was ready to, practically straining forward as he sat in his chair. “No further questions,” Tuvok said hastily. “The prosecution no longer requires this witness.”

The Doctor looked at Harry who had settled back in his chair, a satisfied expression on his face. “No further questions,” he said. “Defense is also finished with this witness.”

“You may step down,” The Doctor told Seven, then tapped the bell on the desk, a holdover from ancient Terran naval tradition, startling everyone, including his fellow judges. “Due to the late hour, we will suspend proceedings until tomorrow at 1400 hours. Any objections?”

Neither Tuvok nor Harry had any, and the two security guards standing quietly by the door took a position on either side of Lt. James to lead her back to the brig. The brunette woman looked rather distant, as if not quite totally comprehending what was going on around her. It occurred to Janeway that perhaps the woman was mentally incompetent, and if that were the case, then some sort of psychological evaluation should have been made. She wondered if anyone had ordered it, and resolved to find out as soon as possible … not that they exactly had any qualified psychologists on board. It was one of those moments when she keenly felt the isolation Voyager dealt with in the Delta Quadrant.

Then, her attention was taken by Seven who seemed uncertain what to do next, hovering next to the witness stand. Janeway went over to her, putting her hand on the young Borg’s elbow.

“You did fine,” she said immediately.

Seven regarded her with clouded eyes. “I do not agree,” she said, very subdued. “I made it sound as if B’Elanna was at fault, even though Lt. James is the one being tried. I did not mean to.”

“Seven, it’s all right,” Janeway said. Seven looked unconvinced, and Janeway squeezed her elbow comfortingly. “C’mon, let’s go home.”

As soon as they entered their quarters, Seven went over to the kitchenette, replicating Jake’s dinner. They were late this evening, and the puppy was voicing his dismay quite loudly at having to wait, despite the captain’s attempts to quiet him. The Borg wondered if some sort of automatic feeding system could be developed, and she tried to concentrate on that as she worked. Mentally designing a device was preferable to thinking about what had happened on the witness stand. She did not know how she had managed to make such a mess of it, and her mind kept coming up with alternative ways in which she should have answered. She placed Jake’s dish on the deck along with a bowl of fresh water, and turned to the kitchenette, intend on feeding the couple, as well. The captain intercepted her, grasping her arms tightly.

“Come sit with me for a moment,” she requested quietly.

Bemused, Seven stared into her partner’s concerned features, and allowed Janeway to lead her over to the couch where they sat down side by side.

“Annika, I don’t want you to feel responsible for any of this,” Janeway told her. She took a breath, looking at her so intently that Seven knew she really wanted the young Borg to listen to her. “When I was in Starfleet Academy, I learned that a Starfleet officer’s first duty was to the truth, be it ethical truth, scientific truth, or personal truth. We may not always like that truth, we may wish we did not have to deal with it, but it is still our most important responsibility.”

“I am not a Starfleet officer,” Seven said flatly.

“No, but I expect you to act as such while you are a member of my crew,” Janeway said. “I may overlook certain exceptions in your case, but not here. Truth is all that matters, and you told the truth exactly as you knew it.”

“It did not feel like the truth,” Seven said unhappily.

“Perhaps, but it was still the truth,” Janeway said. “It is not your responsibility for how that truth is perceived by the court. You don’t have the right to assume that power. That belongs to the panel of judges. Do you understand me?”

“No,” Seven said.

Janeway sighed, and took Seven’s hand. “Annika, you did nothing wrong,” she said. “Not in my eyes nor in B’Elanna’s eyes had she been there. Yet, even if I, or anyone else, were upset with you for speaking the truth, you cannot let that stop you. Your duty to the truth is more important.”

“The truth may have hurt B’Elanna,” Seven objected plaintively. “As wall as assisting the one who attempted to harm her, and you.”

“I know,” Janeway said softly. “But believe me Seven, not telling the truth always hurts worse in the long run. Always.”

Seven regarded her, gauging the sincerity of the captain. Janeway returned her scrutiny evenly, her eyes dark and grey, somber and completely honest. Seven took a breath, feeling a little easier with it, though she still did not quite understand everything. She bent her head, closing her eyes, and felt Janeway’s hand go to the back of her neck, rubbing it gently.

“Why don’t you let me make dinner tonight,” the captain urged, as she massaged the young woman’s neck. “You should try to relax for awhile, unwind a little.”

Seven opened her eyes, glancing at her sideways.

“Will you prepare another picnic?” she asked hopefully.

Janeway’s mouth quirked. “I think that would be difficult with Jake in the area,” she said.

Seven looked at the puppy who had vacuumed up his supper in mere seconds. He had brought his ball over to the couple while they had been talking and when that didn’t work, he had gone back and got a squeaky toy. By now, all his toys were at the women’s feet, as well as two bones, and his supper dish. Now, he was attempting to drag over his bed in an attempt to give them the full range of selection in which to play ‘fetch’ with.

“I believe you are correct,” Seven allowed with a small smile.

Janeway returned the smile. “I promise, it’ll be something you enjoy,” she said, stroking her cheek.

Seven felt a little better as she began to gather the toys up, managing to place them all back in Jake’s ‘area’, the corner just outside the door leading to the bedroom, despite the puppy’s helpful dragging them about whenever she put one down. She could smell the spicy aroma of Bajoran flaugh materializing in the replicator, a dish which the Borg had become especially fond, and she felt her heart warm as she washed her hands prior to setting the table.

After dinner, Janeway urged Seven to change into something a little more comfortable while she took care of the cleaning up. Seven didn’t quite know what ‘more comfortable’ meant, but she obligingly went into the bedroom and changed out of her outfit, donning some pyjamas that Janeway had presented to her a day earlier. There had been several pairs, in a variety of shades and materials, differing greatly from the bland, iron-grey Starfleet issue she normally wore to bed. She did not know exactly why Janeway had given them to her, but she was very appreciative of the present. She chose a pair, made of a fine, pale blue, silken material which slipped over her skin provocatively as she moved.

The look in Janeway’s eyes when Seven came out gave her slight pause, but the captain merely nodded gently.

“You look very beautiful,” she said calmly.

Seven blushed, pleased at the compliment. “Thank you,” she said. She rather enjoyed the sensation of satin against her body, and she curled up on the couch, feeling odd as she watched Janeway spend several minutes playing with Jake.

“I think I should design a method for Jake to be fed automatically,” she said, trying to ignore how her body was reacting, hoping that talking about something … anything … would divert the emotions she was suddenly experiencing.

“That’s a good idea,” Janeway agreed, as she settled on the couch next to Seven. She reached over and grasped Seven’s ankle, drawing the bare foot up onto her lap where she proceeded to massage it gently. Jake leaped up onto the cushions, curling up on the other side of the captain, plopping his head down on her thigh where he sighed gustily, his breath tickling Seven’s sole.

Startled, Seven regarded Janeway uncertainly. The captain merely returned her gaze blandly, as if she did not notice what was on her lap, or what her hand was doing. “So what did you have in mind that would feed Jake when we’re not here?” she asked idly.

“I think if I create some sort of dispenser with a timer, it could fulfill the function adequately,” Seven offered slowly, feeling tingles go all the way up her leg as Janeway’s fingers gently probed her foot.

“I’m sure that would work,” Janeway agreed thoughtfully. “However, it would have to be strong enough to withstand any attempt he might make to get inside it. It wouldn’t take him long to figure out food was coming from within.”

Seven nodded, unable to think clearly enough to come up with a response to that. “What are you doing?” she blurted finally.

Janeway looked vaguely surprised. “Rubbing your feet,” she said. “You don’t like it?”

Seven hesitated. “I did not say that,” she said finally. “It is just that you have never done this before.”

Janeway shook her head. “Haven’t I?” she said sadly. “I really haven’t been a very good partner for you, have I?” She ran her thumbnail down the instep, making Seven jump slightly. “This is supposed to relax you.”

“It does not feel very relaxing,” Seven murmured.

Janeway eyed her, stilling her fingers. “Do you want me to stop?” she asked quietly.

Seven stared at her, feeling her heart flutter in her chest, almost as if it were trying to escape. “No,” she said faintly.

Janeway smiled at her, and resumed the massage, using both hands now. “You could give me your other foot,” she suggested.

Seven did so, placing both her feet carefully on Janeway’s lap. She swallowed hard as she felt the long, talented fingers gently sooth and fondle them, wondering how two things that she had previously thought were nothing more than appendages stuck on the end of her legs could feel so incredibly wonderful. Yet, not in the way that the captain seemed to think it should feel.

“Do you like this?” Seven asked, after a few moments.

“Having my feet rubbed?” Janeway responded. “Definitely. It’s a wonderful way to relax after a stressful day. It can almost put me to sleep.”

“I shall remember that,” Seven said. She did not have to look down to know her nipples were hard, aching as they poked against the thin material of her top. She wondered if the captain had noticed, and what she should do next.

I am not reacting properly to what she is doing, she decided. It is not relaxing me. I must leave. She pulled her feet away from the captain, standing abruptly. “It is time for me to go to bed,” she said, and quickly left the living area, ignoring Janeway’s astonished expression.

She climbed into bed, huddling on her side as close to the edge as possible without falling off. Twenty minutes later, the captain entered the bedroom, passing through to the ensuite where Seven heard her move about, performing her ablutions. The bed dipped as Janeway finally joined her, and Seven froze, hoping Kathryn would think she was already asleep. Miserably, she wondered if Kathryn was angry with her, then she jerked as Janeway’s arms suddenly encircled her waist from behind, the captain rising up to gently kiss her ear.

“I know you were aroused, Annika,” Janeway said softly. “However, it doesn’t mean you have to act on it, or even that you’re ready to act on it.” She hugged her affectionately. “Don’t let it bother you.”

Seven took a breath, feeling her chest ache as tears stung her eyes. “I am so confused,” she said sadly. “I do not know what I am feeling.”

“I know,” Janeway said soothingly. She brushed her lips over her temple. “Annika, please let me help. This is hurting you so much, and that’s more than I can bear. Would you rather I not touch you at all?”

“No!” Seven blurted, aghast at the idea.

She rolled over into the slender arms that welcomed her unconditionally, Janeway holding her tenderly, lovingly, without any hint of demand or insistence. The embrace filled Seven with a warmth and gentle reassurance which finally allowed her to relax against the captain’s body, sighing as Janeway brought her head down to the captain’s shoulder, stroking her long, blonde hair with a soothing rhythm.

“It’s been a long hard day, my love,” the captain said comfortingly. “I think your physical response just caught you by surprise.”

“I do not know why I responded that way,” Seven whispered. “I want to be with you … yet, I do not feel ready…”

“Sometimes the body can act independent of the mind,” Janeway said quietly, “Don’t let it upset you.”

“I will try,” Seven said.

She closed her eyes wearily, feeling the stress of the day slide away as Janeway cuddled her, stroked her, hoping that the next day would bring less confusion and more clarity.

In every aspect of her life.

Tuvok’s brows lowered as he input data into his padd, his quarters dimly lit with his meditation lamp. He was quite dissatisfied with his performance the previous day, and he resolved to do better. In truth, he had underestimated young Mr. Kim. The lieutenant was providing a strong opposition, and where once Tuvok had considered this a rather undemanding duty, it was now turning out to be a formidable challenge.

The chime to his door sounded and he glanced up, wondering who would be coming to see him at such an early hour, the alpha shift having yet to start. “Come in.”

Voyager’s captain entered, and he raised an eyebrow. “Captain,” he greeted. “Is this becoming a habit?”

“Taking the opportunity when I can,” she said, taking her traditional seat. “You’re a busy man.”

“How may I help you?” he asked, though he had a pretty good idea what she wanted.

“The trial,” she said. “I realize I didn’t have the opportunity to view most of the proceedings but I would have to think yesterday did your case little good,” she said. She made a face. “I wasn’t a very good witness for you. Did you know Seven would represent the defense?”

“Captain, you were perfectly adequate as a witness,” he said calmly. “As for Seven, yes, I was aware that Mr. Kim would be calling her. He informed me of it so that I would not call on her for the prosecution.” He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers and regarding her evenly. “Captain, I assure you, what happened yesterday hardly undid the case I had presented. Many people, including the woman’s roommate, have testified that Lt. James possessed an irrational attitude toward Lt. Torres and her relationship with Chakotay, as well as a totally unrealistic view of personal behavior.” He picked up a padd, made a few notations and handed it to the captain. “Here’s a transcript of the first part of the trial. This will give you a better idea of how the witnesses testified as to her aberrant thought processes.”

Janeway frowned, studying the small screen. “Is Lt. James competent to stand trial, Tuvok?” she asked anxiously. “Was that considered?”

Tuvok dipped his head. “It was, Captain,” he said. “The Doctor examined her, and it was his opinion that while she may show certain indications of neurotic behavior, she is competent to stand trial. She does know the difference between right and wrong and she is capable of comprehending all that is going on.”

Janeway looked worried. “Could that be a problem?” she asked. “The Doctor determining her competency, then acting as a judge in her case?”

Tuvok tilted his head thoughtfully. “Possibly,” he allowed. “However, I do not believe Mr. Kim is going to pursue a temporary insanity plea. If he does, I am fully prepared to counter it.”

Janeway sighed. “We lack the personnel and the facilities to grant James a trial above reproach,” she said. “It worries me, Tuvok.”

“The crew is aware of our limitations, Captain,” Tuvok assured her. “And they know that James is receiving the best possible treatment she could be expected to get. Even she knows that. She understands completely what is happening, Captain.”

Janeway shook her head slightly. “I didn’t get that impression, yesterday,” she said.

“Captain, you are seeing a facade,” he said, nodding at the padd she was holding in her hands. “I am certain that once you read that transcript, you will find that Lt. James is a woman who is, by nature, essentially self-centered, concerned only with herself, and how she can avoid repercussions of her actions.” He paused. “In truth, I am surprised that she was able to enter Starfleet at all, but I understand her family has powerful connections in the Federation which may have had some bearing on that.”

“She has always seemed a very competent officer,” Janeway objected mildly.

“That may be,” Tuvok remarked. “However, her personal life is somewhat different than her professional one. She displays traits and patterns which are distinctly disturbing in how she has acted in previous romantic encounters, refusing to accept certain realities and then acting inappropriately as a result. Somehow, she has not had to accept responsibility for anything she has ever done, always managing to blame others. Until now.”

“Was she forced into these actions by others?” Janeway asked keenly.

“I do not believe so,” Tuvok responded. “However, that is what the trial is attempting to clarify. It is not about the crimes, or even whether Lt. James committed them. It is trying to discover if she has any justification for claiming self defense.”

“Is it a viable defense?” Janeway asked, brows lowered.

Tuvok raised a brow. “Perhaps,” he allowed. “There is precedent. On Earth itself, in the latter part of the twentieth century, weapons known as handguns were quite common, and frequently used to kill unarmed and completely harmless individuals, usually family members. The defendants were often freed on the basis that they truly believed they were in danger, and were only defending themselves. Or that they were ‘accidents’.”

“Really?” Janeway said, voice tinged with disbelief.

“It was an extremely stressful period of history,” Tuvok allowed. “People felt endangered all the time, and anything could set off their self-preservation instincts. The profusion of handguns made such overreaction a fatal consequence in many instances. A person could be asleep, hear someone moving about their dwelling, pick up a weapon believing that it was an intruder and fire, finding out only after the fact that they had shot dead their spouse coming home late, a child going for a drink of water, or even the family pet. On the rare occasion that they actually did manage to halt an intruder intent on violating their personal rights, they were viewed as heroes, rather than as having acted in a dangerously negligent fashion. It was very illogical, but Humans had a great fondness for weapons, particularly in an area know as the United States of America. They considered such incidents an acceptable trade off for their ‘right to bear arms’.”

“Is that what happened here?” Janeway asked. “Are we existing in such an atmosphere of constant stress that Lt. James could only react to a perceived threat with deadly force?”

“That is her defense, Captain,” Tuvok said. “However, I do not believe the facts bear that out. No one else takes Lt. Torres’s temper that seriously. Not even Lt. Torres. Certainly, the methods James used to ‘defend’ herself were too carefully constructed and planned, to come from a sense of ‘uncontrollable terror’.”

Janeway studied her fingers which were laced and resting on her lap. A moment passed as Tuvok waited patiently for her next question. “Seven was quite upset yesterday,” she said softly, changing the subject.

“I regret that, Captain,” Tuvok noted honestly. “Had I been quick enough to secure her as a witness for the prosecution, I would have been able to better prepare her. I do not believe Mr. Kim offered such assistance, nor was it his intention to do so. Seven’s confusion by the proceedings benefitted his client.” He paused. “I was remiss in noting how confused she had become, however.” He raised his eyes to the captain. “I will speak to her once the trial is complete, help her understand what has happened.”

Janeway’s eyes warmed perceptibly as she regarded him. “That would be very nice of you, Tuvok,” she said quietly. “Your opinion means a lot to her.”

He studied her for a moment. “How is the ‘wooing’ progressing, Captain?” he asked.

Janeway’s mouth twitched, humor suddenly glinting in her blue-grey gaze. “Slow, Tuvok,” she admitted. “Yet, steady, with only a few setbacks here and there. I’m touched you asked, however.”

Tuvok returned her look impassively. “I consider you both to be my friends,” he said evenly. “You make a suitable pairing. I regret that you are required to go through such a unfortunate period in your relationship.” He hesitated. “May I ask what you have accomplished so far?”

Janeway regarded him narrowly. “I’ve been sending her flowers,” she said dryly. “Made her breakfast in bed, took her to the beach, gave her presents of silky sleep-wear, took her on a picnic in a special area, gave her a foot massage … shall I go on? Does this meet with your approval?”

Tuvok knew that he had amused her. Since that meant she was no longer agonizing over the trial, he stretched it out a little further. “Have you considered candy,” he offered helpfully. “Or poetry? Perhaps a bottle of perfume would suffice.”

Janeway blinked. “Is that how you won your wife?” she asked in an odd tone.

He raised an eyebrow. “Captain, Vulcans do not require such gestures,” he said reproachfully. “However, Seven is not a Vulcan. Are you sure you’ve thought of everything?”

Janeway went to respond, hesitated, then tilted her head. “If I thought you were putting me on for just a second…” she warned.

“I am not, Captain,” Tuvok responded, allowing an injured tone to creep into his voice. Just a touch. No need to go overboard.

Janeway gave him her full and complete attention. “Tuvok, is this your way of telling me to concentrate on Seven, and let you concentrate on the trial?”

Tuvok inhaled slowly. Sometimes Janeway was more astute than he gave her credit for. A bad habit on his part.

“Is that what you believe, Captain?” he responded, answering her question with another one.

“I don’t know,” she said, a wry grin touching her lips. “I’ll have to think about it some more.”

Tuvok dipped his head, allowing the point. She got up then and he followed suit, escorting her to the door.

“Will you keep me updated, Tuvok?” she requested, as she stepped into the corridor.

“I shall,” he promised. He wanted to ask her to keep him updated with her ‘wooing’, but thought he had already revealed too much. He was not at his best early in the morning.

He watched as she strode briskly away and wondered how he should approach the next surprise Harry Kim threw his way.

The slender, diminutive Angela James, her long brown hair mussed, dark shadows beneath her leaf green eyes, frowned at Harry Kim, who was trying rather unsuccessfully to ignore her irritability. He sat in a chair in across a small table from her, padds scattered about the surface as he attempted to organize his day’s schedule of witnesses. Outside the force field, two guards in security gold monitored the power levels, and ignored the people inside the brig.

“You should have asked the captain more questions,” she pouted.

He stifled a sigh. “The captain does not remember that period of time,” he said. “A condition, I might add, that you were responsible for. It doesn’t help to remind the court of that.”

“She knew that Torres threatened me, and did nothing,” she said.

“If the captain did something every time B’Elanna threatened someone, she wouldn’t have time to run the ship,” Harry said with forced patience. “Tuvok pointed that out quite nicely with Seven, though the rest of her testimony was helpful to us.”

James muttered something which Harry affected not to hear, something about it being the first time the ice bitch had been useful for anything.

“I just don’t get you,” she added unhappily. “You were way too easy on the captain. Isn’t getting her on the stand, showing how incompetent she is the real reason you took this case? That’s why I asked for you to represent me, because I thought you would go after their hypocrisy.”

Startled, he stared at her. “What?” he said in a confused tone.

“She took Seven away from you,” James reminded him, eyes suddenly glittering unpleasantly. “Just like that Klingon took Chakotay away from me.”

Harry took a deep breath, feeling very uncomfortable. “I took this case because I believe everyone is entitled to a fair trial,” he said. “My personal feelings about Seven or the captain have no relevance.” He frowned at her. “Did you sabotage those ship components because you thought you were protecting yourself from B’Elanna?”

James hesitated. “Of course, I did,” she said sullenly. “Do you think I would hurt the captain deliberately? That would be mutiny.”

“Yes it would,” Harry said pointedly, favoring her with a hard glance. “Angela, if this is a matter of revenge, rather than self-defense, I have to know that.”

“It was self-defense,” she replied and her voice grew higher, sounding younger. “There was no where I could go.” She offered Harry a doe-eyed look. “If I had known you would have protected me, I would have gone to you immediately, but I was so frightened and confused.”

He softened. “All right,” he said in a gentler tone. “I know this has been hard on you.”

“Who are you going to call today?” she asked, seeming glad to change the subject.

“Tom Paris,” He said. “He can testify as to B’Elanna’s temper and violent tendencies. He was always getting patched up when they were together, and that was when she was just playing. Then I’m going to call on Lt. Vorik. She defeated him in personal combat when he was going through pon farr when Vulcans are at their strongest. If I can get Lt. Carey to testify that he was attacked, with the end result being B’Elanna was made chief engineer, I can show a pattern where her behavior has been overlooked because of her capabilities. Then I’m going to start calling a variety of other personnel, who can show that they were overlooked for obvious promotions to allow non-Starfleet personnel like Seven to become members of the crew.”

She gave him an admiring look. “You are so brilliant,” she said. “I’m very glad you agreed to help me.”

He blushed, flattered and pleased. “I’m just doing the best job I can,” he mumbled. “I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t,” she said sincerely, placing her hand on his arm. She stared at him a moment. “Were you able to ask if I could take a walk?”

Harry brightened. The ship wasn’t used to having someone confined to the brig this long, and was still adapting to having a prisoner on board. When James had asked to be allowed some kind of exercise beyond what the small confines of the room allowed, both the captain and Tuvok were agreeable. After all, where could she run? She really wasn’t considered all that dangerous now. All her attacks had been indirect, allowing her to keep her distance, and the one time she had tried a direct attack, it had failed miserably, resulting in her immediate capture.

“Yes,” he said. “You’re allowed to go for walks as long as you’re properly supervised. We could go for one right now, if you’d like.”

Her eyes took on a sparkle, and he thought that she was especially pretty right then. He had always thought so, but never really did anything about it. First of all, she was of a higher rank than he was originally, then she got involved with Chakotay. It was never the right time. Of course, he reminded himself sternly, being on trial for attempted murder was hardly the ‘right’ time, either. Why was he always attracted to the impossible ones?

He waited outside as she neatened her appearance, brushing out her hair and touching up her face, though he wasn’t sure what she did to it exactly. All he knew was that it was some mysterious process that only women seemed to learn. Then, along with two of Tuvok’s security detail, a tall, blond Human named Johnson and a feisty Bolian who went by Crell … his real name being unpronounceable … they took a quick jaunt around the lower deck.

Kim was very aware of crewmembers staring at him, though as soon as his eyes met theirs, they quickly looked away and busied themselves with the task at hand. He knew that his acceptance of this case had won him no friends on the ship, the crew not viewing the attack on their captain with any sort of ambivalence at all. Even his present friends were uncomfortable with it. B’Elanna had stopped speaking to him altogether, and only Tom and Seven maintained any semblance of their previous attitude toward him. He suspected that even the captain was bothered by it, and he made a note to speak with her after this was all over, needing to let her know that it had absolutely nothing to do with her.

They entered the biometrics lab where they ran into Chakotay, who was deep in discussion with Tuvok. Harry tried to turn them around and vacate the lab, but it was too late. Everyone froze when they entered the area where Angela James worked when she wasn’t on the bridge, and Harry wished the deck would just open up and swallow him whole.

“Lieutenant,” Tuvok said coolly. He eyed Lt. James with chilly Vulcan disapproval, the woman glaring back defiantly. Chakotay seemed a little more sensitive to the situation, and at least tried to be polite, nodding to Lt. James as well as Harry.

“We were just out exercising a bit,” Harry said, rather lamely. He glanced at James who was standing quietly by a lab table. Her eyes were jade chips when they met his, and he realized that he had to get her out of here. “We’re on our way back, now.”

“Perhaps it is unwise that you bring the prisoner to such a sensitive area, Lt. Kim,” Tuvok noted evenly.

Harry felt anger flare. Tuvok had a very bad habit of speaking down to him, as if he were a complete and total idiot. He resented it, and he knew it was not beyond the realm of possibility that the security chief was the real reason he had accepted this case. To be able to beat Tuvok at his own game? It was too good a chance to pass up.

“Are you uncertain as to your people’s competence?” he returned easily, dark eyes narrowed. “Surely they’re be able to keep her from seizing control of the ship.”

Involuntarily, they all glanced at the two security guards who towered over the slight Angela James. They had been watching the two senior officers argue with unconcealed fascination, and at the sudden scrutiny on them, Lt. Johnson blushed while Crell studied his boots intently. Tuvok raised an eyebrow.

“I am completely confident in their skills,” he responded. “I was more concerned as to the affect her presence might have on the crew who used to work with her in this lab.”

“Innocent until proven guilty, Tuvok,” Harry reminded him pointedly, and by this time, he was standing a handsbreadth away from the black and gold clad officer, jaw stuck out rather pugnaciously.

Tuvok seemed to sense he was about to initiate some unfortunate emotional display on Lt. Kim’s part, and with a vaguely sardonic look, he dipped his head and deliberately stepped back. Harry did not feel he had won the point however. Instead, he felt like he always did under the Vulcan’s attention … like an unruly child rather than a Starfleet officer in his own right. He was embarrassed, and he jerked his head at the two security guards.

“Let’s get back,” he said.

As they walked back to the brig, Angela put her hand on his arm. “You were wonderful, Harry,” she said warmly. “I know you’ll defeat anything he can come up with. He’s just no match for your cleverness.”

Despite himself, Harry Kim’s chest swelled and he carried his head just a little higher, convinced that Tuvok wouldn’t know what hit him tomorrow.

Janeway tottered out of the court martial feeling as if she had been struck across the head. Harry’s case had been devastating. Had she really been that incompetent? Had she honestly been more lenient with her senior staff than the rest of the crew? Had she really cheated the Starfleet personnel while trying to merge together this group of varied individuals into one solid group, working for a single goal?

At first, she had thought B’Elanna was the one taking the blame for Lt. James actions by the defense but now it seemed, Lt. Kim was trying to show that the captain had promoted an atmosphere of personal preference over performance, of self-indulgence over discipline. The worst part was, Janeway remembered most of the incidents offered in the court room. They had occurred during the first year while she had been trying to keep Voyager intact against the Kazon, the Vidiians and a dozen other things the Delta Quadrant was constantly throwing at her. Tuvok, of course, had dissected most of the testimony with unfailing logic and analytical precision, but it still felt as if her crew completely resented her.

She was reminded suddenly, that it was her decision, and hers alone, which had stranded them in the Delta Quadrant in the first place, and as always, that thought sent a sickening wave of guilt crashing over her.

She took a breath as she walked into her quarters, wondering how she had gotten there so quickly. Obviously, she had been so lost in thought, she hadn’t even noticed getting on and off the turbolift. She went into the bedroom after patting Jake, and changed out of her uniform, pulling on a blue t-shirt and some black trousers. She replicated a weak soda and whiskey, and sat on the couch, Jake hopping up beside her and draping his head on her leg. She rested her hand on his back, stroking the reddish hair absently as she sipped at her drink, staring across the room blankly.

There was the muted hiss of the door, and she looked up to see Seven who paused just inside the entrance, regarding her with a concerned look. Jake’s tail thumped as he saw his other mistress, but he didn’t move, wanting to stay with the captain. Perhaps he sensed something was amiss.

“What is wrong?” Seven asked.

Janeway felt her lips twitch. “What makes you think something’s wrong?” she asked dryly.

“Your expression,” Seven responded promptly, moving over to the captain where she knelt before her, resting her hands on Janeway’s knees. “The whiskey and soda. The outfit. You only wear that shirt and pants combination when you are depressed.”

Despite herself, Janeway laughed. “I guess you do know me,” she said, placing her fingertips lightly on Seven’s cheek. She shook her head. “It was a rough day at the court martial,” she explained. “Sometimes the perception of truth can make it seem like the real truth is getting lost.”

“How is that possible?” Seven asked softly.

“I don’t know,” Janeway admitted. “It was an eye opening experience, however.”

Seven considered that, taking a slow breath. “You told me yesterday that it was not my responsibility how the truth was perceived,” she said. “That power belongs to the judges. If that is accurate, then you are not responsible either.”

“As captain, I am always responsible,” Janeway said softly.

“No,” Seven said, gazing at her intently. “Not in this case. The court martial and its proceedings must be independent of you and your command. Otherwise, the process will fail.”

Janeway started to respond, hesitated, then finally nodded. “I guess I can’t argue with that,” she said. She smiled faintly. “Thank you, Annika.”

Seven’s eyes warmed perceptibly. “I am glad I could help,” she said softly.

They regarded each other for a few moments, Janeway completely captivated by the earnest face, and the pale blue eyes. Carefully, she leaned forward, closing the distance between them as she pressed her lips to Seven’s. The kiss was a bit more passionate than she had intended, but to the captain’s surprise and gratitude, Seven did not pull away, returning the passion with a bit of her own.

“I do still want you,” Janeway said huskily after they had parted, by way of explanation, resting her forehead on Seven’s. “I’m just able to hide it better some of the time.”

“I know,” Seven said softly. “You do not have to hide it, Kathryn. I know now that you will not insist on anything I am not ready for.”

“I wouldn’t,” Janeway promised, pleased at the show of trust which hadn’t been there recently. She profoundly regretted her previous actions, at how she had kept trying to seduce the young woman into intimacy, displaying irritation and impatience with Seven when she failed. It had taken a while before it became clear how frightened Seven was, and what was causing her fear. “May I kiss you again?” she asked humbly.

Seven smiled. “Please,” she said.

Janeway covered the inviting mouth, concentrating totally on the way the full lips felt beneath hers, the silky taste of her partner, how wonderful it was to share this physical connection with her. Seven returned the kisses lovingly, and Janeway was careful not to press the advantage, knowing that now, more than any other time, she had to exercise patience and discipline. She was so close to a breakthrough, sensing it with every molecule of her being, knowing it even more when Seven’s lips parted to allow Janeway’s tongue to explore her mouth gently, tenderly.

The captain was dizzy when they finally parted for air. Honestly, she wondered, had anyone else ever affected her this way? She could not remember it if there was. She was aware of Seven searching her face, eyes wide, an expression of joy and … hope? … in her blond features. Janeway carefully put down her glass, afraid she would spill it because she was trembling so much.

“I think,” she said softly. “It would be a good idea to make dinner.”

Seven took a deep breath. “Yes,” she said, her tone faintly regretful. “It was my turn last night, but you replaced me because I was upset. Would you like me to prepare it tonight?”

“That would be wonderful,” Janeway said, feeling absurdly giddy. “Something light, not too spicy?”

“Agreed,” Seven said. “I know just the thing.” She hesitated, then leaned forward and kissed Janeway again before getting up.

Janeway watched her move across the room, then glanced down at Jake who had been observing all this with puppy interest, a vaguely indulgent expression in his eyes, though she suspected she could be imagining it. She grinned and ruffled his ears, hearing the solid thump of his tail on the cushions. She picked up her drink, finished it, then went over to the counter, perching on the stool as she watched Seven prepare a salad from replicated vegetables and mushrooms.

“Would you like some wine?” Seven asked, spotting the now empty glass.

“No,” Janeway said. “I shouldn’t have had that drink. My stomach was empty.”

Seven frowned at her, and nudged over some mushrooms and a few cucumber slices from her cutting board. Grinning, Janeway crunched on those as she set the table, finishing it just in time for Seven to put the big bowl of salad down, along with some cold chicken and bread sticks. As Janeway sat down, she felt Seven’s fingers brush over the back of her neck, and she picked up her fork, tingles running all the way through her. She wondered if she was blushing, and knew she should get this under control or the night would be a very difficult one to bear.

Show some of that Starfleet discipline, Katie, she warned herself sternly. You are a captain, after all.

After dinner and the obligatory play session with Jake, which Seven participated in this time, much to Janeway’s pleased surprise and Jake’s great gratification, the two women retired to the couch, sitting together as they sipped a white wine vintage which held a hint of raspberries. Janeway leaned against the warm body next to hers and wondered what it would take to bring Seven all the way back to her. Her eyes wandered idly over the room as she tried to remember a love poem she had read at the Academy, one that seemed fitting here.

Poetry? We’re not actually taking Tuvok seriously, are we? her little voice asked in an aghast sort of way. Smiling secretly to herself, Janeway picked up the padd sitting on the coffee table in front of her, hoping that somewhere it contained something that could convey what she was feeling. There wasn’t, but linking it to the ship’s main computer gave her a vaster database in which to search.

She glanced up at Seven who was sipping at her drink quietly, looking over at Jake who was playing by himself now, face distant as the Borg’s thoughts took her light years away. She seemed unaware of what the captain was doing, undoubtedly assuming it was work of some sort.

“Hey,” Janeway said, nudging her lightly.

Seven’s gaze turned to her, the pale eyes focusing immediately. She smiled briefly. “Yes?” she responded.

“What were you thinking about?” Janeway asked.

Seven shook her head minutely. “Many things,” she confessed. “B’Elanna, Harry Kim, the trial, how it affects the ship.” She paused. “How it has affected us.”

Janeway sighed quietly. “It has been difficult,” she admitted. “We’ll make it, darling. Just have faith.”

“I do,” Seven responded, and looking into her eyes, Janeway finally had the sense the young woman truly meant it.

The padd beeped softly, and Janeway glanced at it, gratified to see the poem displayed there that she had set the search for, having remembered only one of the lines in it, which fortunately, had been enough to pinpoint the particular verse.

“I’d like to read you something,” she said. “If I could.”

Seven’s expression sharpened with interest. “Of course,” she said.

Janeway pulled away a little, straightening and drawing her leg up under her as she half turned toward Seven. She put her wineglass down on the coffee table, and took a deep breath, reading from the padd’s screen.

“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways,” she quoted softly, letting the verse flow from her as the love filled her eyes. She used her voice to caress and carry the words to Seven, wanting her to know this was no mere reciting, but words that she meant with every fibre of her being. “I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach, when feeling out of sight for the ends of Being and ideal Grace. I love thee to the level of everyday’s most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use in my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose smiles, tears, of all my life!–and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.”

Seven regarded her intently when she was finished, her eyebrow raised slightly. Janeway waited for the inevitable question as to why she was reading this irrelevant passage to the Borg, and what the significance was for such illogical statements.

“That was very beautiful,” Seven said softly. “Is that how you think of me?”

Startled, Janeway dropped her eyes, blushing. “I do,” she admitted. “Sometimes I lack the words to tell you how I feel, Annika. This is the closest I’ve found which could. I know it was written by someone else, a Terran named Elizabeth Barrett Browning, but these words do speak for my heart.”

Seven considered this for a long moment. “I think,” she said finally. “That they would speak for mine as well.”

Janeway stared at her, feeling something form then, almost tangibly visible, definitely real, drawing them together, binding them with a force which could not be denied. Janeway wasn’t sure if she had been the one who moved, or if it had been Seven who had crossed that small space between them, but suddenly they were in each other’s arms, kissing deeply and passionately, withholding nothing, wanting only to solidify and make permanent this fragile connection with a physical union. Loving hands moved freely, with a sort of familiarity over the captain, indicating a deep and aching desire, and Janeway knew that finally, the young woman had managed to put the last of her fears and doubts behind her. That once more, Seven believed utterly in Janeway, in their love, and their future, ready to be with her in every way. Tonight, they would be together, and they would make love theirs, and it would be wonderful and beautiful, exactly as it should be, and had been, and always would be.

“Bridge to Janeway.”

Janeway wanted to weep. She wanted to scream and stomp her feet. She wanted to ram her head full tilt into the nearest bulkhead, because she could not imagine existing in a universe that would chose this moment to interrupt what was happening.

“Bridge to the captain, please respond.”

Janeway touched her communicator.

“What is it?” she snarled, not trying to hide her fury.

“It’s Lt. James,” Tom Paris said. “She’s escaped.”

Seven followed Captain Janeway on the bridge, impressed by how furious the smaller woman was. The captain was practically throwing off sparks, and she did not actually walk but rather stalked to her chair like some sort of predator. A particularly vicious, tail thrashing, teeth gnashing, aggressive and thoroughly dangerous predator.

Seven herself, had been somewhat shaken at the interruption, but only because Lt. James was on the loose. She worried that B’Elanna or that the ship could be in some sort of danger. As for the other, she was much less upset than Kathryn. Once she had made the decision that yes, she did indeed love the captain now as much now as she had before, there was a sensation of utter peace that settled within her, an absolute assurance that it would be all right, that they would be together. It was merely a matter of when.

Seven calmly took a post at the tactical station aft of the command chairs.

“Report,” Janeway snapped. She shot a fiery look Tuvok’s way, the Vulcan quirking an eyebrow but no more. He was made of much sterner stuff than the rest of the bridge crew who were trying to cringe and work at the same time, though Seven was sure they were unaware of the true inspiration of Janeway’s ire.

“Lt. James drugged Mr. Kim and her security guards,” he said.

“What?” Janeway said, glaring at him.

“She made a gaseous compound out of the dinner Neelix prepared for her,” he told her with a certain reluctance.

“How the hell could she accomplish that?” Janeway yelped, staring at him in disbelief.

Tuvok looked uncomfortable. ” She is a science officer, skilled in biometrics,” he reminded her. “She was also in the biometrics lab yesterday, and apparently she was able to secrete certain small bits of equipment and biometric compounds about her person while her security detail was … distracted.

“‘Distracted’,” Janeway echoed and Seven hoped she’d never hear that particular tone ever directed at her.

“Mr. Kim and I had a … disagreement,” Tuvok admitted. “The guards were more interested in that than their obviously docile prisoner. I intend to reprimand them … assuming they live.”

Janeway blinked. “Is there some question of that?” she said, voice suddenly concerned.

“The drug Lt. James concocted has an extremely toxic aspect to Humanoid physiology,” he said. “The Doctor thinks he got to all of them in time, but it does seem to be more damaging to Humans. Both Mr. Kim and Ensign Johnson are in serious condition.”

Janeway took a slow breath, and Seven could see her bring her anger and dismay under control, assuming a completely professional command mask, though the Borg could still sense the emotion simmering beneath the captain’s suddenly cool exterior.

“What’s being done?”

“I have security teams sweeping every deck,” he said. “She is not wearing a comm badge so she can’t be tracked by that, and the profusion of humans on the ship prohibits a species scan, but there is no place for her to hide for very long. Voyager is a fairly small ship.”

Janeway shook her head. “What is she thinking?” she asked in bemusement. “Why would she attempt an escape, especially now? We’re in deep space, no planet within transporter range, and no shuttle could outrun Voyager.”

Tom Paris glanced over his shoulder. “One could,” he noted.

Janeway stared at him, then glanced at Seven.

“The Mississippi,” The Borg responded to the unasked question. “We have just completed installing the slipstream drive for the next sequence of tests.”

Tuvok shook his head. “The hanger deck is completely secure as are the transporter rooms,” he said. “She could not get to the runabout.”

“Where is Chakotay?” Seven asked, suddenly. “Is he assisting in the security sweeps?”

“He’s with B’Elanna,” Paris said, and to his credit, there was no trace of bitterness in his voice. “They’re with the security teams searching the engineering sections.”

Seven noted something on her board. “Captain, there is a transporter signal,” she said.

Almost as quickly, Tuvok was reporting. “Ship’s interior sensors have recorded a beam out from the engineering section to the hanger deck.”

“Tuvok,” Janeway urged.

“I am on my way,” he said, heading for the turbolift.

“How did she bypass the security codes?” Tom said, almost to himself.

“I don’t know,” Janeway said. “But we’d better find out soon.”

“Captain Janeway.”

Janeway looked up as the unmistakable sound of Angela James’s voice came over the communications system. She glanced at Susan Nicoletti who was manning Ops.

“She’s accessed the Mississippi’s communication array,” the dark haired lieutenant said.

“On screen,” Janeway said quietly, turning to the fore viewscreen.

A huge image of Angela James appeared, the wild emerald gaze centering on the captain, the woman smiling with unnatural gentleness. “Release the hanger doors,” she suggested in a matter-of-fact voice, as if they were discussing the weather.

“I can’t do that,” Janeway said easily, matching her tone, but Seven could see the way the back of the captain’s neck was tense, the shoulders stiff beneath the red band of uniform.

“Do it now, or else,” James responded, voice lowering to a whisper.

“Or else what?” Janeway asked carefully.

James reached down, and hauled an unconscious Chakotay up into view. Blood stained his head and face from a gash slashed across his forehead. “He thought I was actually surrendering,” she said, and the smile that crossed over her face was not entirely sane. “I had to bring him along since there wasn’t enough poison left after I sprayed the Klingon bitch and the others.”

Seven blanched and sent a emergency medical call to sickbay, instructing them which section they could find her friend and the downed security team. Then, she looked back at the screen, wondering what would cause the woman to think the way she did before deciding she be much better off never understanding it. They just had to come up with a way to stop her.

“This is all your fault, Janeway,” James was saying. “If only you hadn’t trapped us here in this miserable space. You’re such a pathetic captain. Who else could misplace an entire quadrant?”

Janeway gave no indication she noticed. “Lt. James, I know you don’t want to hurt Chakotay,” she said.

“Wrong again,” James hissed furiously. “Captain, I used his command codes to bypass the transporter lock. I’ve used it to release the Mississippi’s helm to me. Unfortunately, it doesn’t want to work on the hanger doors. Terminate the lock down and I’ll leave, never bothering you again.”

Janeway’s face hardened. “I don’t believe you,” she said. “Chakotay would never have given you those codes no matter how much you threatened him.”

“Oh, he didn’t give them to me today,” James said silkily. “It’s amazing what you hear when you’re lying in bed with a man whom you just fucked silly. I was there, Janeway, when he had to give his command codes to Hearthstone control while Voyager was getting her overhaul in the Confederacy. I never forget a string of code, Captain so you can imagine how glad I was to see that they weren’t changed every six months as Starfleet protocols dictate.” She grinned evilly. “I guess you forgot.”

Seven could see Janeway’s fingers twitch, then clench into fists, but the captain’s voice did not change.

“I’m not going to release those doors,” Janeway said, her voice solid with icy resolve. Seven knew her eyes would be a dark, thunderous grey. Over the channel in the background, they could hear security pounding on the doors of the runabout, the thin whine of a phaser trying to cut a way through the door mechanism. “Surrender while you still can. I don’t want anyone to be hurt here.”

“Unlock the doors,” James said flatly. “Or I swear to God, I will activate the slipstream drive, right now.”

Seven felt her breath catch. She didn’t know exactly what would happen in that circumstance, but she had a pretty good idea. She remembered Janeway telling her of a time when she had taken a tour of duty on Utopia Planetia as all cadets did during their Academy days. A ship had been coming in just past Mars at impulse when somehow, one of its shuttles on its hanger deck had gone to warp. They had never found out why, mostly because there had been absolutely nothing left of either vessel, nor the two presently under construction in orbit about the red planet. Janeway’s face had been white as she recounted the story to Seven, the captain’s very first experience with death on a massive scale.

The quantum slipstream was different than the tradition warp drive, but Seven had no doubt that activating it within another vessel’s warp bubble, would be as equally devastating.

“You’ll die as well,” Janeway said, obviously shaken.

“So I will,” James said. “Do you think I care at this moment? Terminate lock down. You have ten seconds.”

Janeway hesitated for two of those seconds. Then she touched her comm badge. “Tuvok, get your people clear of the hanger deck,” she ordered. She nodded at Tom. “Disengage hanger lock down.” She turned back to the screen. “Let us beam out, Chakotay,” she pleaded.

James tilted her head, regarding her idly, as if the captain was a not particularly interesting sort of insect. “If I can’t have him,” she said. “I don’t believe anyone else should, either.”

The communication was cut and Tom’s hands moved over his board. “Captain, hanger doors are opening,” he reported. “The Mississippi is disembarking.”

“Get a lock on them,” Janeway snapped to Nicoletti.

“The runabout’s shields are up,” she reported, rather helplessly.

“The Mississippi is activating slipstream drive,” Tom said, fear tinging his voice. “She’s not allowing the proper clearance between the ships. I’m pulling us back.”

Seven immediately moved over to ops as Nicoletti gave way to her, the lieutenant heading over to take the tactical station Tuvok had left. Seven tightened and strengthened the transporter beam, using every Borg technique she knew. “I can penetrate the shields,” she said. “However, I can only transport one at a time.”

She did not look at the captain, hands poised, waiting for the order. If she went for James, the runabout would have no one at the controls as it triggered the slipstream drive. Chakotay could regain consciousness and return from whereever the vessel ended up, but there was no way of knowing how badly he was hurt. It was also unknown what James had programmed in for navigational commands, or if the commander would be able to figure it out in order to retrace his steps.

Janeway did not hesitate this time. “Get Chakotay out of there,” she ordered.

“Understood,” Seven said, touching the controls. Skillfully, she nudged the transporter relays to full power, punching through the runabout’s shields to capture the signal belonging to the first officer, the human male genetic matrix that identified Chakotay, using a full skeletal lock. Interference from the building slipstream conduit battered at the confinement beam, and with exquisite care, she drew the signal back to Voyager, depositing it in transporter room one’s main buffer, where the officer there materialized the pattern on the dais.

“Transporter one reports they have him,” she said as the ship was jolted.

“Captain, we’re caught in the wake of Mississippi’s slipstream,” Tom yelled at the same time, hands flying over his console.

Janeway sat down in her chair just in time to avoid being flung across the bridge. Susan Nicoletti was not so lucky, crashing into the bulkhead, while Seven and Paris were barely able to hang onto their stations.

“Try to break us free,” Janeway shouted as the ship creaked and groaned alarmingly.

Seven tried desperately to shore up Voyager’s integrity field, knowing the equipment was not in place yet to withstand the gravimetric pressures the quantum drive placed on the ship. At the front of the bridge, Tom worked frantically, keying in commands to try to slew away from the wake of the runabout. On the viewscreen, they could all see the tunnel like space which had appeared when the drive was activated, sucking them in and pulling them along.

“I can’t get free,” Tom yelled. “There’s not enough power with warp drive.”

Seven glanced at Janeway, saw her swallow hard. “Ready phasers,” the captain said with a voice suddenly devoid of inflection. “Target the runabout’s shields in the same area you punched the transporter beam through. Fire at will.”

Seven did not hesitate, accessing phaser control from the unmanned tactical station, channeling it through the ops console. “Firing,” she reported. She glanced up to look at the screen, saw the twin beams of energy intersect at the fleeing runabout, punching through the weakened point of the shields, and causing the vessel to disintegrate with satisfying explosiveness. Then, the concussion wave hit.

Seven was flung completely over her console as the ship abruptly dropped not only out of the slipstream conduit, but out of warp altogether. She landed heavily on her back on the deck, the air exploding out of her lungs, and for several minutes, was occupied only with trying to get some of that air back into them. When she finally managed to roll over, she looked to where Janeway should be, but wasn’t, finally discovering her crumpled beneath the helm where she had been thrown. Seven had no idea where Paris was, though she could hear him groaning somewhere forward of the navigation console.

She crawled over to Janeway, examining her with concern as the captain slowly stirred, moaning softly. The captain was cut about the head and face, crimson staining the deck beneath her, but she was conscious, struggling to get up.

“Captain,” Seven said, reaching out a hand to help her.

Janeway shrugged it off once she was on her feet, staggering to her chair. “I need a report,” she commanded, her voice a husky whip.

Seven took a breath, taking the helm since Paris had now stopped groaning, and was now lying unconscious on the deck. “The runabout has been destroyed,” she reported. “We have traveled 147 light years in the last twenty seconds, and are now drifting near a class three nebula. Voyager has sustained heavy structural and systems damage. Sickbay reports a multitude of casualties.”

She glanced back at the captain who was working her own board, ignoring the blood streaking her face and flowing onto her uniform.

“What a mess,” Janeway said quietly. She looked up briefly, her gaze intersecting with Seven’s. There was an instant of shared intimacy, of support offered and received, then Janeway’s eyes dropped back to her monitor.

“Let’s get it cleaned up,” she instructed.

Janeway regarded the pale features of Lt. Kim lying in the biobed, his dark hair tousled, a single lock falling boyishly over his forehead. He, along with B’Elanna and several security guards, were still recovering from the toxic gas they had been dosed with, though the rest of Voyager’s crew injured in the violent shaking the ship had received in the slipstream conduit had already been released. They, along with everyone else, had been working around the clock the past two weeks, trying to repair the damage the vessel had sustained.

“Do you have any idea what might have set her off?” the captain asked gently.

Harry shook his head, shadows in his eyes. “Maybe it was my fault,” he said. “She asked me flat out if I thought we were winning the trial. I told her no, but if she would take the stand and tell her side, then maybe that would sway the judges to lessen the sentence.” He paused, eyes haunted. “I guess she didn’t think she would be convincing enough. Maybe I should have lied to her.”

“Angela James showed a definite tendency to avoid problems whenever she could,” Tuvok noted coolly. The Vulcan refused to show it of course, but Janeway knew he had been considerably shaken by the events of the recent past. “When faced with accepting any consequences for her actions, her immediate response was always to strike out, brutally, quickly, and with cleverness.”

Harry dropped his eyes. “I guess I let you down, Captain,” he said softly.

“Of course, you didn’t,” she said compassionately, placing a hand warmly on the young man’s shoulder. “You took on a formidable duty, and performed it well. I am very pleased with your effort, even if I didn’t necessarily like the outcome.”

“In truth, Lt. Kim, you were an excellent defense counsel,” Tuvok added, surprising the weakened and battered Harry Kim who looked at him with wide eyes. “If Lt. James had been a little more patient, it is entirely possible that you would have, if not actually absolved her of the crimes, at least mitigated the sentence. I would prefer not to face you again in such a situation.”

For a few moments, the young man didn’t seem to know what to say. “Thank you, Tuvok,” he finally offered, blushing faintly. It was clear that the unexpected praise from the Vulcan profoundly astonished, yet thoroughly pleased him.

The Doctor suddenly appeared next to them. “If you two don’t mind,” he said sternly. “My patient needs his rest. Is your business is finished?”

“It is,” Janeway said, holding her hands up in surrender. “I just wanted to be sure all my crew knew things are getting back to normal.”

She offered Harry a final, comforting pat then turned for the door, Tuvok at her side. She paused before exiting as she saw B’Elanna. The Klingon was sitting up, arms crossed, staring sullenly across the room, appearing very isolated.

“B’Elanna,” she asked. “How are you feeling?”

“Like hell, Captain,” Torres responded crankily. “I’m bored. I want to be released.”

“Sorry, Doctor’s orders,” Janeway said, not unsympathetically. She eyed the woman narrowly. “B’Elanna, I don’t want this to happen again.”

B’Elanna opened her mouth in outraged objection, then apparently thought better of it and firmed her jaw. “No, ma’am,” she said. “I promise not to threaten anyone, anymore.”

Janeway personally thought the young woman was more upset that the fugitive had gotten the drop on her, popping up from an access shaft ,and spraying the security team with her toxic gas. Chakotay would have gotten a face full as well, if he hadn’t been bringing up the rear, delayed as he checked out a room before coming around the corner a minute later. Angela took care of him with a feigned gesture of surrender before firing the phaser she had palmed from B’Elanna’s body. Then using his comm badge, she had used his command codes to transport them to the Mississippi and release its helm controls.

“Make sure you don’t,” Janeway said to B’Elanna, then put a hand on her shoulder. “I promise not to let you get away with anything ever again,” she added in a gentler tone. “Get well soon. I need you to check all the repairs we’ve done the past two weeks.”

“Yes, captain,” Torres said, with little enthusiasm.

“When I see Seven, I’ll tell her you were asking for her,” the captain added.

B’Elanna blushed, but brightened. “I know she’s busy,” she said, “but, I’d really like to see her.”

“I’m sure she’ll be down as soon as she can,” Janeway told her.

Janeway favored the engineer with a parting smile, then left sickbay. She glanced sideways at Tuvok who was walking silently beside her, aware there was still more damage control to do. “Tuvok,” she said gently. “We all make mistakes. If you can forgive me all mine, surely you can forgive yourself one or two.”

He raised an eyebrow, but did not answer, letting her know that he wasn’t ready to let himself off the hook yet. She stifled a sigh. “There is one area where you were completely accurate,” she tried again.

He raised an eyebrow. “Indeed?” Indicating that he wasn’t entirely sure what she was referring to.

She favored him with a smile. “Yes, I think Seven has finally managed to fall in love with me again. In fact, I’m positive of it,” she said.

He glanced at her, his dark eyes warming perceptibly though he showed nothing beyond that. “That is encouraging news,” he allowed. “How fortunate you have a grasp on the proper techniques for ‘wooing’ a Borg drone.”

“Yes, it is,” she agreed with a half grin. “It’s just too bad I haven’t seen her for more than a minute or two, lately.”

Like all the crew, Janeway and Seven had been working at a tremendous pace, pulling double and triple shifts, catching sleep and meals on the fly, and never at the same time. Janeway didn’t even know where her partner was at this moment, and truth be told, she was honestly too tired to find out. The visit to the crewmembers still in sickbay had been the last task she had set for herself, and she was anxious to get to her quarters where she could collapse in peace. Now that she was no longer required to be the strong, confident captain, she could feel the bone-deep weariness start to claw at her, dragging her down into exhaustion, the last of her personal resources suddenly evaporating like the last drops of gas in an old style combustion engine.

“Captain, perhaps you should take some time to rest,” he suggested suddenly, and she realized that she had allowed the command mask to slip a little.

“I think that’s a good idea,” she agreed. She patted Tuvok briefly on the forearm. “Get some yourself.”

She left him at a juncture of the corridors, and headed for her cabin. She was acutely aware of missing something when she entered, and it took a moment to realize what it was. Jake wasn’t present. She glanced around, then remembered seeing him briefly a few days ago while passing by an access corridor. He had been playing with the ship’s only child, Naomi Wildman, which undoubtedly had been arranged by Seven; a logical course of action since both young creatures required a certain amount of supervision, as well as feedings at regular intervals. Putting them together where they could both be attended to by a single attendant, most likely Neelix in this case, was the most effective way to deal with the problem. Janeway hoped that retrieving Jake from Naomi would not be hard, especially since he had clearly loved romping with the child who was much better equipped to play with him on a full time basis than either a starship captain or an astrometrics officer.

She paused in the bedroom door, smiling faintly as she saw that the bed was already occupied. Seven of Nine was sprawled across it on her back, her lanky, six foot frame taking up far more space than Janeway thought she should be capable of. The Borg’s brown mesh outfit was crumpled on the deck as if the young woman had barely been able to get it off before falling into bed.

Janeway made an abortive effort to pick it up, then instead, shrugged out of her own uniform, dropping it beside the outfit, crawling onto the bed and her partner without bothering to don any nightwear. She was pleased to find that Seven had not bothered either, and she draped herself over the soft, yielding torso with a sense of exhausted relief.

Seven mumbled something, gathering herself and the captain in, wrapping her arms around Janeway. The captain sighed softly.

“Annika?” she murmured.

“Yes, Kathryn?” came the blurred response.

“Are you asleep?”

“Yes, Kathryn.”

Janeway closed her eyes, unable to resist the numbing drowsiness stealing over her though she tried briefly.

“Annika?”

“Yes, Kathryn?”

“Do you want to make love?”

“Yes, Kathryn.”

Neither of them moved. Janeway’s right index finger twitched briefly.

“Was it good for you too?” she mumbled.

“Yes, Kathryn.”

The corner of Janeway’s mouth quirked as she felt herself sink irrevocably into the wonderful warmth surrounding her, to the peace awaiting her in the soft darkness.

“Kathryn?”

Janeway hauled herself out of that warm, dark place.

“Yes, Annika?”

“I love you.”

Janeway rubbed her cheek against the smooth, silk-soft skin of the chest her head was resting on, happiness flooding every part of her. So she hadn’t changed her mind, but then Seven wouldn’t, would she?

“You are my heart, Annika,” she whispered.

Seven tightened her hold lovingly.

“Good night, Kathryn.”

“Good night, my love.”

They slept, their universe finally made right once again.

The End

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