This is the 11th in the Just Between … series.

This story was written in November, and posted around the first of December, 1998. It occurs after the events of Timeless and Infinite Regress in the show’s fifth season.

Just Between Lovers

G. L. Dartt

The captain of USS Voyager glanced up from the padd she was working on, her concentration interrupted by the soft chime to her ready room sounded. A small, compact woman with auburn hair and level blue-grey eyes, Kathryn Janeway possessed an aura of command and authority, an energy that surrounded her immediate vicinity with a vibrant vitality. She shifted in her high backed chair, turning it so that it faced the door.

“Come.”

The door slid back with a muted hiss, admitting the ship’s astrometrics officer, Seven of Nine. Late of the Borg Collective, she was a physically imposing figure, standing six feet tall in a skintight blue-grey outfit revealing a curvaceous body. Her blonde hair, a few strands escaping to fall about the narrow, full-lipped features, was pulled back into an austere bun. Her eyes were a chilling ice-blue. The left was framed by a gray metallic eyepiece while on her right cheek, where jawline met the bottom of her ear, a starburst implant gave stark testimony to her time as a cybernetic drone.

Janeway thought Seven was one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen, an appreciation tempered only lightly by the fact that she was completely in love with the young woman. She smiled and stood up, moving toward her partner with distinct pleasure. “Annika.”

“Captain,” Seven returned coolly, and Janeway hesitated, knowing that the use of her rank, rather than her name by the young woman, meant it was ship’s business that had brought Seven to her ready room.

Janeway sighed and leaned back against her desk, folding her arms across her chest. “Go ahead.”

A week or so earlier, the ship had been caught in the wake of a quantum slipstream conduit, sustaining heavy damage to its structure and many systems. Voyager’s chief engineer, Lt. B’Elanna Torres, and operations officer, Lt. Harry Kim, had both been in sickbay, recovering from the toxic effects of a poison administered by the same fugitive who had stolen the runabout and utilized the slipstream drive. As a result, Seven had been forced to take over many of their tasks, working double and triple shifts, utilizing her Borg enhanced stamina and endurance to work round the clock on the repairs. Borg enhancements notwithstanding, Janeway could see the shadows staining the young woman’s cheeks, and the hint of strain around her pale eyes.

“We have managed to restore all engineering room systems,” Seven reported in her cool, precise voice. “The replicator system will take much longer to repair.” She handed Janeway a padd, and the captain frowned as she studied the readings.

“I guess this means Neelix is back to being our cook full time again,” Janeway said without enthusiasm. “I’ll inform him as to his duties, as well as send out instructions maintaining our rationing protocols. It’s a good thing we had food supplies on hand, but I doubt they’ll last long. We’re going to have to look for more very quickly.” She read over the rest of the report, made a few notations, then glanced up at Seven who was waiting patiently, hands linked behind her back, standing at easy attention. “What about the deflector array?”

“It only requires a few more adjustments. It will be fully functional by the end of the day, at which time, we can once again activate the warp drive.”

“Excellent,” Janeway said approvingly. She placed the padd on her desk, and tilted her head slightly as she regarded her partner closely.

“You didn’t wake me this morning when you left.” Her voice gentled, becoming less professional, and a great deal more personal.

“I was required in the engine room,” Seven responded evenly, though her eyes warmed slightly. “I saw no reason to disturb you. You required sleep.”

“Since I slept for fifteen hours straight, I guess I can’t argue with you, but you need your sleep as well, Annika. I’ve just been informed that both B’Elanna and Harry have been released from sickbay, and are ready to resume their duties. Consider yourself relieved. I want you to return to our quarters, and get some rest.”

“That is not necessary,” Seven protested mildly.

“It’s an order,” Janeway replied, injecting a touch of steel into her tone

Seven’s eyebrow raised slightly. “Yes, Captain,” she said, faint surprise tinging her tone.

Janeway’s lips twitched, and she reached out her hand. Seven hesitated before she accepted it, allowing the captain to pull her into an embrace, where she wrapped her arms around the slender waist, her face pressed against the smooth silk of Seven’s throat.

“I’m sorry if that sounded short, darling,” Janeway murmured apologetically. “I just want you alert and rested when I come home.”

“For what purpose?” The captain smiled as she heard the hint of humor in the Borg’s tone, feeling it warm her all the way through.

Though Janeway and the Borg had shared a personal relationship for almost a year, a recent explosion had robbed the captain of her memory, leaving a blank stretching back three years to a time before she had even met the young woman, let alone fallen in love with her. The captain had been forced to rely on ship’s mission logs, as well as her own personal entries, to fill in the missing gaps while she and Seven tried to rebuild their previous closeness. It was a slow process, but eventually they had managed to nurture the fragile bond that formed between them into a very real, and very deep, love. Still, they had not resumed their physical intimacy, mostly due to lack of opportunity. Now that this latest crisis had passed, Janeway had every intention of solidifying their emotional connection with a physical union.

“I think you know,” Janeway said quietly, leaning back to look up into the fine features.

Seven bent down, her lips brushing over the captain’s. “I believe I do.”

Janeway deepened the kiss, her lips parting, and she explored Seven’s mouth hungrily, tasting the desire and devotion awaiting her. When they finally separated, Janeway laughed shakily. “This is neither the time nor place, but soon. In the meantime, please get some sleep, darling.”

“I will comply,” the Borg promised. They kissed once more, then Seven smiled faintly at her, turned and left the ready room.

Janeway leaned back against her desk, her lips quirked in a half grin as she stared at the door that had closed in her partner’s wake. It was hard to be both captain and woman, to maintain a personal relationship along with a professional one but somehow she was managing, due in no little part, to the remarkable woman she had found herself involved with. She wondered what would have happened had she never made the decision to strand Voyager here in the Delta Quadrant, 75,000 light years from the Federation. It had been a long journey these past five years, with still a long way to go, but in one way, the whole experience had been the best thing that had ever happened to her. To have met Seven of Nine, to have fallen in love with her, to have the young woman return that love … sometimes Janeway thought that fate had some plan for her, and part of that destiny was to be with Annika.

Janeway shook her head slightly, as she always did when she allowed herself to grow introspective, an occurrence that seemed to be increasing lately. It appeared to be one of the side effects of her injury, the captain forced to relearn a great many things, not only about the history she was missing, but about herself and the person she was now. Though some of her memories had returned, they were mere fragments, detached and frequently without context. She found that the person she was becoming was a great deal more complex than she had ever believed herself capable. More thoughtful and yet, at the same time, more emotional it seemed, as if she now carried her feelings much closer to the surface, not as willing to suppress them as she had before. It was an interesting experience, and she counted herself fortunate that she had someone like Seven to share it with.

She took a breath, and settled back behind her desk. There was still a lot of work to be done before she could log off duty.

Before she could go home.

“The time is 1600 hours.”

Seven’s eyes flew open as she woke, fully alert and functional, an effect of her Borg enhancements. She had been asleep for six hours, more than sufficient for her unique physiology to refresh and restore her equilibrium. As she sat up, she listened for a brief second, hearing nothing beyond the steady hum of the warp drive, the subtle currents of the life support system, sensing no presence in the quarters beyond the bedroom door. Kathryn had yet to return.

Slipping from between the sheets, she quickly remade the bed, stripping away the linens and replacing them with silken bedding, non-Starfleet issue and designed for a specific purpose. The thought of that purpose made Seven flush, and she had to take a second to compose herself, forcing down on the anticipation and desire that threatened to get the better of her. Moving into the ensuite, she activated the sonic shower, programming it to the highest intensity. The sonic waves tended to give the captain headaches, even at the lowest register, so Seven usually saved the full setting for when she was alone, delighting in the heavy vibration that disintegrated dirt and dust from both flesh and implant, leaving her clean and tingling.

Hesitating over her wardrobe that took up only the smallest percentage of the closet she shared with the captain, she frowned, trying to choose something to wear. She possessed four biometric outfits. The traditional brown mesh that she wore most frequently on duty. A blue-grey suit that was her personal favorite because of how its color resembled a certain Starfleet Captain’s eyes. A silver biotech suit that she hated for what it represented. Finally, a black workout outfit she used for playing Velocity. For the first time in her life, the young woman wished she had something more … delicate, more feminine, fashionable rather than functional. She eyed the civilian clothing hanging next to the dress uniforms on Kathryn’s side of the closet with a touch of envy. Though the captain did not have many dresses, the ones she kept as a permanent part of her wardrobe were both elegant and attractive. Seven knew that Kathryn would probably not object to her wearing any of those clothes, but the difference in their size and body mass made such an attempt impossible.

Abruptly, Seven’s eye was caught by the stack of pyjamas sitting on the shelf at the top of the closet. They had been a gift presented her by Kathryn during their enstrangement, intended to replace the staid, iron grey Starfleet-issued nightwear she traditionally wore. Boasting a variety of colors and materials, they were the most feminine things the young woman possessed, and it occurred to her that perhaps one of those garments would be an acceptable alternative to her normal outfits for what she hoped would be a most special occasion.

She selected a red pair made of a silk, a deep crimson shade that granted her pale skin a rosy tinge, and moved wonderfully smooth against her skin. She took a few moments to brush out her long, blonde hair, leaving it free to fall about her shoulders and spill down her back. She wondered what she should wear on her feet since most of her outfits had the footwear attached as part of the suit, while the heavy soled Velocity boots were very inappropriate for the silky outfit she now had on. She glanced at the replicator. As a result of the damage to Voyager, the crew was back to strictly rationed use of the devices, limited to small single-serving food items for which they were issued five replication access strips a day. Absolute necessities could be replicated with the proper authorization, but she did not think a new pair of footwear to complement her outfit would be considered an acceptable necessity.

She would just have to go without, she decided, and left the ensuite. She was sorry that their puppy, Jake, an Irish Setter they had received on a mission some months before, was not currently in their quarters. She would have been enjoyed spending time with him before Kathryn’s arrival, but with the recent crisis which had kept both Seven and Janeway occupied almost continually, it had seemed best that he be temporarily housed with Naomi Wildman, the ship’s only child. The two young creatures seemed to enjoy being together, and Seven was content to know that the pup was being well taken care of until things returned to normal, and he could once again return home.

She glanced around the outer living area with a certain amount of dismay, realizing that their quarters had acquired a distinctly dingy tinge in the wake of their neglect the past few weeks. Taking some time to tidy the place, she used a specialized cleaning device that removed the dust from the furniture, and also cleaned the floor, leaving the rug spotless. She wondered what she should do about dinner, checking to see what remained of her supply of ration strips. Unfortunately, she had used two for her breakfast drink, and she could not make even the simplest of her recipes with only three ingredients. She regarded her small kitchenette dolefully, afraid that it was something which she would not have the opportunity to use in the near future. Unfortunate, because she had found the preparation of food a wonderfully creative and relaxing process.

Still, she did have wine and some candles. If she used her imagination, limited as it was, perhaps even her few remaining rations would provide a meal of sorts so that she and the captain would not have to go to the messhall this evening with the rest of the crew. She set the table, and then placed the candles about the room so that it was illuminated with a soft glow. She was contemplating the replicator thoughtfully when she heard the door hiss. She turned, smiling as she saw the captain enter.

“Annika, you look spectacular,” Janeway said with a pleased smile, immediately coming over to the young woman to be embraced.

“I am glad you think so,” Seven said, hugging her tightly. “But I have no shoes.”

Startled, Janeway glanced down, raising an amused eyebrow as she regarded Seven’s bare feet. “So I see. We’ll have to replicate you some.”

Seven shook her head. “I do not think that would be appropriate,” she reminded the captain, who smiled at her gravity. “I have only three replicator rations left. It is difficult to come up with something for dinner that uses so few ingredients.”

Janeway squeezed her. “I have three left myself, so surely if we pool them, we can come up with something acceptable. Enough for both of us. Let me think about it while I change.”

The captain pulled away, and disappeared into the ensuite. Seven drew a bottle of wine from a compartment in the kitchenette, disappointed to see that there were only two bottles remaining. They would have to start rationing that as well, she thought unhappily. The couple enjoyed a glass with dinner, as well as one afterward while relaxing. Perhaps, Seven considered, I can give up my share, allowing Kathryn to have more. She used her Borg-enhanced left hand to pry out the cork, setting the bottle on the counter to ‘breathe’.

It wasn’t long before Janeway joined her, dressed in a simple navy sheathe, one of her older outfits, but a personal favorite of Seven’s. It was a garment which could be removed with remarkable ease, the Borg remembered with anticipation, and she smiled warmly at her partner.

“You are lovely.”

“I think I remember you telling me something to that effect before,” Janeway said dryly, wrapping her arm around the Borg’s waist. “But I never tire of hearing it.”

Seven noticed that the captain had added perfume to her pulse points, the delicate scent wafting into her nostrils, seming to raise her body temperature as she inhaled the provocative scent. She took a deep breath, and steadied herself, forcing her mind to concentrate on the matter at hand. “Do you have any recommendations for dinner?”

Janeway regarded her. “You still have spices on hand, don’t you?”

Seven nodded. Her spices and sauces were kept separate from the rest, replicated several ounces at a time rather than a little for each meal. Several of the more common ones were stored in various compartments in her kitchenette. “I have ginger, oregano, garlic powder, onion powder, and Italian seasoning,” she listed. “Also salt and pepper, two types of sugar, one container of oyster sauce, and another of steak sauce.”

“All right, let’s replicate two helpings of pasta, two helpings of tomato sauce, a pepper and one really large mushroom,” Janeway suggested. “What can you do with that?”

Seven thought. “I can make spaghetti, without the meatballs, or the cheese.”

“We’ll have to survive the lack.”

Seven hesitated. “We would not have any garlic bread either.”

Janeway sighed. “You’re right,” she grumbled. “Damn, I’d forgotten how hard this is.”

“We could avoid the pepper and mushroom. That would allow us rations for a half loaf of bread, and a pat of butter to which I can add garlic powder before toasting. Again, no cheese however.”

“All right, let’s do it that way.” Janeway took a seat on the stool at the kitchen counter, and watched as Seven assembled her ingredients. She poured herself a glass of wine from the bottle, then seemed to realize how little remained and carefully poured half of it back. “We’ve been spoiled.”

“Was it like this the first year Voyager was lost?” Seven asked as she replicated the simple tomato sauce devoid of seasonings or spices. Those she added in careful measurements before placing the container in a heating unit to simmer.

“Oh no, that was much worse,” Janeway said, sipping her wine. “We were limited to three rations a day, and Neelix had no idea about Human taste buds at all. It’s a wonder I didn’t have a mutiny on my hands the first month.” She smiled faintly, in bittersweet remembrance. “I hope we don’t have to wait another four years for the replicators to be fully restored.”

Seven shook her head. “I do not believe that will happen. The upgrades installed after the incursion to the Alpha Quadrant are more resilient than the original specifications, nor was the damage as severe. I anticipate it taking only two months.”

Janeway did not seem appreciative of this time projection. “Is there any way to finish it earlier?”

“Not the food units,” Seven reminded her. “It is too important to restore the engineering replicators first.”

“Of course,” Janeway said, waving her hand. She looked vaguely depressed, and Seven took a moment to reach across the table to touch her hand.

“We are alive and we are together. Nothing else matters.”

Janeway looked at her and smiled briefly. “You’re absolutely right, my love,” she allowed, entwining her fingers with Seven’s. “I have to remember what to be thankful for.”

“There is still a great deal.” Seven brought Janeway’s palm up to her lips, kissing it gently, her eyes meeting the intent gaze of her partner. She was surprised at how passionate her partner’s expression was, wanton as her fingers flexed to trace over the Borg’s lips, and the young woman drew back uncertainly. “I must finish preparing dinner.”

Janeway didn’t take her eyes off her. “Of course,” she agreed, her voice low with sensuality. “We certainly don’t want to waste those rations, do we?”

Seven wavered. “Anticipation can enhance an experience,” she insisted weakly.

“It certainly can. I’ve been anticipating this evening for as long as I can remember.”

“I had planned for a romantic dinner.” Seven felt her heart flutter in her chest. “Perhaps with dancing afterward?”

Janeway nodded gravely. “Whatever you want to do, my darling. I’m completely yours tonight.”

Seven hesitated, very conscious of how her body was reacting. “I think … it would be wise off the heating unit for the time being. There is no point in preparing and eating a meal if we are too distracted by other things to appreciate the food.”

Janeway smiled, a slow, smoldering, seductive smile and held out her hand. “That’s what I love about you, darling. You’re so practical.”

Janeway led Seven into the inner room by her hand, releasing her only when they were beside the bed. Picking up a device that had been left on the night stand, she used it to light the candles scattered over the shelf running along the wall. With a brief word, she brought down the lights so that the room was illuminated only by the tiny flames that gave everything a cozy, intimate glow. As she did, she was astonished and amused to find she was exceptionally nervous, actually trembling while she made these preparations, as if this was her first time engaging in a sexual experience. Yet, it wasn’t even her first time with Seven.

Except of course, it was. She realized that as she turned to look up into those pale eyes reflecting love and arousal … and a trace of fear as well.

This is our first time, Janeway thought to herself, the first since we almost lost everything, the first I will remember for the rest of my life.

She swallowed hard, and rested her hands on Seven’s arms, feeling the hard ridges of an implant on the Borg’s right bicep through the thin material, the warmth of flesh on the left. She realized suddenly that she didn’t even know what Seven looked like without clothes, what other implants lay beneath the silk pyjamas.

There was no clear memory of any of their previous times, and the one time they had slept together in the nude … the previous evening … she had been far too exhausted to notice details. Seven had been gone long before the captain awoke, and she wondered if the young woman had spent any time looking at her sleeping form before she left. That thought sent chills of desire down her spine, and she felt her hands tightened convulsively on the young woman’s arms.

She laughed, and forced herself to ease her grip. “I’m scared.”

Seven seemed to relax slightly at the admission. “I am, as well. I do not know why. We have made love many times.”

“Not like this,” Janeway pointed out quietly.

Seven regarded her with dark eyes. “No, not like this.”

They looked at each other for a long moment, then Seven gently enfolded Janeway into her arms, holding her affectionately rather than with passion. “I believe in our love, Kathryn. I believe in you.”

Janeway closed her eyes, hugging her gently. “Oh darling, so do I,” she whispered. “I love you.”

They held each other tightly, as if by unspoken agreement, not attempting anything further, just hanging on until the edge of fear had dissipated and their hearts had quieted somewhat. Janeway felt Seven nuzzle her hair, and she took a long, deep breath, calming herself.

“Too much anticipation, I think,” Janeway said ruefully.

“Perhaps.” Seven began to rub the captain’s back gently, soothingly.

Janeway let herself relax into that caress, and when it finally slowed, became lingering, more sensual, she responded fully. Raising her face to feel the brush of Seven’s lips over her forehead, they trailed down her nose, finally reaching her mouth. The kiss was warm and sweet, but when it became gently demanding, Janeway melted into it, accepting the moist warmth of Seven’s mouth, surrendering to it. She could feel the play of Seven’s shoulder blades beneath her palms, and she pulled the young woman closer, delighting in the warmth of the embrace, the gentleness of her partner’s touch. Heat rose within her, building slowly, more contained yet somehow stronger than what she had felt coming into the bedroom. She so wanted to appreciate this moment, wanted this first time to be special, to be everything it could be, especially for Seven who had stood by her refusal to rush their intimacy even when it hurt, and even when Janeway had been irritated with her. The captain wanted to show her partner that it was good they had waited, that now was the absolute perfect time, and that the young woman had been right all along.

I could get lost in these kisses, Janeway thought suddenly, marveling at their profound emotion, the concentrated intensity that absorbed her, leaving her completely submerged in Seven’s tenderness. She smiled as Seven left her mouth briefly to trace a delicate line along her jaw, nibbling her earlobe.

“You’re such a marvelous kisser,” she whispered.

Seven drew back to look down at her, an amused look in the narrow features. “I had a very good teacher.”

Janeway shook her head. “No darling, I may have started you off, but the rest is sheer natural ability.” She looked up at her, studying the pale eyes full of love, the generous mouth and full lips that were moist and inviting. “You’re absolutely my heart. Do you know that?”

“I do,” Seven replied quietly. “I have loved only you, Kathryn. I do not believe I shall ever love another. I do not believe I am capable of it.”

Touched, the captain pressed against her partner, and found herself swept up in another of those kisses, aware of Seven’s hands sliding from her back up to her neck where the young woman slipped her fingers beneath the thin straps of Janeway’s dress, easing them over the shoulders. Janeway felt them fall away, aware that the only thing keeping the garment up at this point was the fact that she was pressed so tightly against Seven. She swallowed hard, and deliberately stepped back a pace. The dress slipped easily down to puddle about her feet, almost as if it were designed to be removed that way.

Perhaps it was, she thought, the blood rising in her face as she stood before Seven, garbed only in the most frilly of lace underwear, a brief triangle of cloth covering the more natural one beneath. She slipped out of her shoes, her feet hidden in the crumpled dress, then moved closer to Seven, looking deep into the eyes that were roaming over her with honest appreciation.

“Do you like what you see?”

“I love what I see,” Seven corrected promptly.

Janeway laughed softly, and found the top button of Seven’s silk pyjama shirt. She was so glad she had given the young woman these delicate things, aware that Seven had truly appreciated them, but not nearly so much as Janeway did by the sight of her partner in them. Ironically, their very looseness gave Seven an erotic quality that her normal skintight outfits did not. Nor did it hurt that the young woman’s hair was down, flowing gloriously about her face, making her appear so incredibly young and desirable.

The Borg stood quietly, eyes shining as Janeway carefully undid each button, pausing at times to kiss Seven’s neck, her chin, lingering on the full mouth, resisting the immediate lure of the shadowed hints of the full breasts, and the flat plane of stomach. Finally, Janeway opened the shirt, pushing it off Seven’s shoulders and arms where it dropped to the floor, revealing the full length of lovely torso in one motion.

“Exquisite,” the captain murmured quietly, sliding gentle fingertips over Seven’s arms, her shoulders, then down over the smooth slope of breasts to the rosy nipples that hardened as she passed. She continued her lazy exploration under and to the top of the soft swell of abdomen, over Seven’s belly and hips, then up the bumpy ridge of spine before retracing the path once again. It was a slow exploration, carefull, as if they had all the time in the universe, as if she had not been dreaming and fantasizing about this moment for weeks on end, as if the sensation was not threatening to immolate her with its heat this very second.

Seven shivered under that featherlight stroking, and Janeway smiled, her eyes warm as she looked into the serious face. “I need to relearn everything about you. I have to discover your body all over again, particularly with what makes you feel good. You’ll have to help me, darling.”

“I shall,” Seven promised in a low tone.

Janeway reached up and kissed her again, needing her with an incredible hunger, but determined to take her time, wanting to make it absolutely right for both of them. She found the waistband of the pyjama bottoms, slipping her fingers under them to push the silken pants down over the generous hips, letting them fall away. Six feet of beautiful blonde Borg stood before her, naked to her gaze, utterly magnificent and seeming to glow in the candlelight with a purity and perfection from which the assorted implants still adorning her body could not detract in the slightest.

Janeway caught her breath, and embraced Seven, tracing each metallic device with loving fingers, the starburst under the left collarbone, the mesh down the right leg, the twin implants set in the small of Seven’s back, embedded in each dimple where the curve of her buttocks began. Janeway leaned forward and kissed the soft hollow of Seven’s throat, then down the chest to the warm valley between the breasts, immersing herself in the warm fragrance, feeling the soft mounds of flesh envelope her face. She ran her hands down the smooth sides, resting them on Seven’s hips, then along the legs, and felt the Borg tremble as she rested her fingertips lightly on the strong upper thighs, the muscled flesh quivering beneath her touch.

Seven swallowed hard. “I am … having great difficulty standing.”

“Then, perhaps you should sit down,” Janeway advised, looking up with glowing eyes. She smiled and captured Seven’s hands in her own, nudging her over to the bed where the young woman sat on the edge, looking up at her with complete and utter devotion.

“Or maybe it would be better for you to lie down,” the captain amended gently, putting the flat of her hand against Seven’s chest and pushing her down onto the bed. Seven did not resist, reclining on the mattress without protest. Janeway conscientiously dropped a pillow on the floor next to the bed, then leaned over the supine woman, smiling faintly as she braced herself with her arms on either side of Seven’s torso.

She kissed the young woman, openly, hotly, letting her tongue and lips explore the sweet texture of its interior as she felt a silent moan from Seven vibrate through her. She absorbed herself in these kisses, intoxicated by their warmth and desire, and it took considerable effort before she was able to leave the wonderful mouth to move down to where the proud swell of Seven’s left breast waited invitingly. She kissed the rosy tip gently, flicking it ever so lightly with her tongue before going over to repeat the caress. She was careful not to be too aggressive or abrupt, intending only to pleasure the young woman, wanting to show her how much she adored her, how much she cherished her.

She found Seven’s hands, linking them with her own in a grip that was oddly more intimate than her mouth that continued to trace over the velvet soft nipples, circling the rosy areolas. She tasted the mild flavor of the Borg’s skin with a deep sort of happiness, a sense of coming back to a warm, familiar, much loved place. She felt the tips grow firmer beneath her lips, and she moved joyously back and forth between them, teasing them so very tenderly before smiling at the young woman, aware that Seven was watching her intently. She reached up and kissed Seven’s mouth again, then moved back to the silky skin of Seven’s stomach, intrigued by the faint lines she found there, the fading traces of what could only be scars.

Seven had once boasted an implant here, Janeway remembered from both her personal logs and a vague sense of memory. Hard edged ridges over the abdomen and sides, up the back almost to the shoulder blades. Now it was gone, and there was only smoothly muscled flesh, firm but yielding beneath her. Janeway traced a scar briefly along its path, then continued her journey down to where the thin strands of fine blonde hair tickled her face and cheeks. The defined thatch covered burnished skin that felt so smooth beneath her lips as she pressed them against the swell. She kissed over the top of Seven’s thighs, then gently nudged the long legs apart with her body, kneeling between them as the pillow cushioned her knees against the hard deck. She decided that she had planned that move rather perfectly, aware that there were some things one just shouldn’t forget.

Nuzzling the tender skin of Seven’s inner thighs, Janeway was amazed at how soft they were, how very silky. At this point, Seven carefully disengaged her left hand from the captain’s grasp, making sure the mesh covered implant was removed from any contact with her lover. Janeway remembered something the Doctor had said, about Seven sometimes losing control of it, unable to temper the raw power of the Borg mechanism as passion overwhelmed her.

Apparently, Seven was taking no chances, and judging from her increased respiration, the way the pulse fluttered in her femoral artery beneath Janeway’s lips, the captain decided that the Borg was probably being wise. Smiling faintly, Janeway kissed along the inside of the long leg to the juncture where she took a moment to deeply inhale Seven’s scent, aware that it was only slightly muskier than the young woman’s normal fragrance. Fairly light to begin with, it was fresh, oddly perfumed with a faint metallic tinge.

She certainly did not suffer from any lack of moisture. Janeway felt the wetness beneath her mouth as she brushed against the tender outer lips of the Borg’s intimate flesh. Seven was positively drenched, unquestionably ready for whatever her lover was planning. Janeway hesitated, and then deliberately licked a bit of that moisture, letting it rest on her tongue as she would a fine wine, evaluating both texture and bouquet.

She heard a sound from Seven then, the first she had made since Janeway had begun, an inadvertent half sob, and the captain tightened her grasp on the young woman with her left hand, trying to communicate all her love, her affection through that connection. She brought her right down to push the legs farther apart, opening Seven up to her gaze. The Borg was lovely and refined, like the most fragile of flowers in the flickering candlelight, a most delectable shade of pink. With a tenderness born of both adoration and awe, Janeway carefully kissed the firm bundle of nerves at the top, then covered the sensitive nodule, sucking on it gently. She felt an immediate surge ripple through Seven, the wave of pleasure making the young woman shudder. She heard a quiet, heartfelt moan, then, a whispered “Kathryn” filled with such emotion, such love, that it brought tears to the captain’s eyes.

Janeway nuzzled her partner for long moments, feeling the corresponding tremors shake Seven before she dared to move lower, circling the moist opening with the tip of her tongue, savoring the pool of wetness she found there. Seven’s taste was very mild, almost without any definite quality, just a faint trace of salt-sweetness, due no doubt to the fact that Seven had few bodily functions to speak of. The implants took care of all Seven’s gastronomic byproducts, the Borg nanoprobes looking after any other bacteria that would cause odor or strong taste. Janeway wondered briefly how many of the microscopic nanoprobes she had just swallowed, and then realized that this was hardly the time for a scientific analysis of such things. If the Borg element was harmful to her, she certainly would have known it by now. Still, the knowledge did make her more adventurous, attempting something she wouldn’t ordinarily do without more preparation, moving her mouth down even lower to the small, wrinkled orifice that she probed with the tip of her tongue.

She heard a startled “oh” from Seven, and suspected that this was something she hadn’t done before, though the reason why not escaped her entirely. Again, there was no strong flavor or odor, but Seven reacted keenly to the captain’s every touch, quivering every time Janeway prodded her, opened her gently with her tongue. The Borg bent her knees, drawing her thighs back against her body, opening herself up fully to the unexpected, but obviously welcomed sensation. Janeway adjusted her grip on Seven’s hand, moving her arm under Seven’s leg, and began a long, slow sweep from the puckered opening all the way up to the sensitive nodule and back again. Stroking the tender flesh with varying degrees of firmness and gentleness, she found a rhythm that Seven’s nerve endings responded to with acute pleasure. Janeway paused to push her tongue deep into Seven’s wetness, sudden pulsations dragging at it, drawing her deeper inside as spasms abruptly overwhelmed the young woman. The captain felt her hand seized in a bruising grip, and she bathed her face in the soft rush of moisture that resulted, hearing the joyful cry echo in her ears.

When the shudders had eased somewhat, Janeway began again, slow and thorough, bringing in her hand into the careful caresses, gently stroking and penetrating both orifices, exploring the sensations and textures beyond her mouth’s reach. She was aware that she was going where no one else ever had and perhaps ever would, profoundly moved as she lifted the young woman to ecstatic heights again and again until Seven simply could not respond any further.

Janeway eased off, and with a cocky sort of satisfaction, she crawled onto the bed, amazed to find Seven’s arm across her eyes, tears leaking from beneath tightly closed lids. Gently, Janeway removed the concealing limb, kissing the inside of Seven’s wrist through the mesh and along her arm, before she drew it up around her neck and lowered her body onto Seven’s, finding the wonderful full mouth and kissing her sweetly, tenderly. Lovingly.

“Darling … you tasted so wonderful …” she murmured between kisses. “Oh, love … you were so perfect … my love … it’s all right …” Seven’s tears, she noted, were saltier than any of the other fluids the young woman gave off, and the captain caught them avidly on her tongue, knowing she had overwhelmed Seven with pleasure and emotion.

She felt Seven’s other arm go around her in a tight embrace, and she pressed closer, her own desire and deep need a burning conflagration within her, one she had trouble controlling now. She lost herself in Seven’s kisses, found herself rolled over until the powerful weight was on top of her, pressing down on her with strong intent.

“Kathryn,” Seven whispered, sliding over her wantonly. “You were amazing.”

Janeway arched against her, feeling desire fill her with a need that no longer had to be denied, lips drawn back over teeth that was more snarl than smile. “Then, reward me.”

Seven did not hesitate, her hands moving over her with a skill born of long practice. Janeway noted that one of the things that hadn’t changed was that the same spots she remembered driving her wild before still did. Seven knew every one, how to touch them, when to touch them, and how long to touch them, with body and fingertips, with lips and tongue, and once with her teeth raking over tender flesh with precise delicacy. Janeway sighed and moaned and cried out, not at all passive as Seven had been. Demanding her due, she received it in spades, thinking herself the one in command only to find instead that she was the one commanded, tamed, captured and brought under control with astonishing ease, then sent out of control again with even more grace and dexterity.

When it was all over, when the last tremors had died away, when there was nothing but limp muscles and a body slick with perspiration and the couple’s shared essence, she lay quiescent in Seven’s arms. Drained of all desire and passion, fully and completely sated, she knew she was home in a way she had never felt before, exactly where she belonged that nothing else, not Voyager or the Alpha Quadrant or even Earth, could ever hope to match.

Seven reclined against the pillows, propped up against the head of the bed in a half seated position, Kathryn draped across her torso, her head resting on the Borg’s shoulder. The captain was not sleeping but simply resting in the young woman’s arms, cradled and safe. Seven nuzzled the auburn hair lovingly, kissing Kathryn’s forehead as she wondered how it was possible to be this happy after what had seemed an eternity of confusion and misery.

“I have missed this,” Seven said finally, in a soft voice. “I have missed you.”

Janeway signed and raised her face slightly, kissing Seven on the side of her neck. “I’ve missed you too, my love. It seems like I’ve been waiting my whole life for this.”

“I should have … we should have made love sooner.” Regret colored her voice.

“No.” Janeway drew back a little so that Seven could look into her face, reaching up to touch the young woman’s cheek lightly with her fingertips. “Darling, you weren’t ready before now. You were absolutely right to wait … and I was completely wrong to try to rush you. Believe that. Good lovemaking takes trust, and until you could trust me completely, it could never be what it should be, could never be as wonderful as it was tonight.”

Seven searched those eyes, seeing nothing but conviction and truth in them. “Thank you for your patience.”

“Thank you for loving me.”

“That is something you never need thank me for,” Seven said seriously. “It is a part of me. You may as well thank me for breathing.”

“Oh, I’m very thankful you’re breathing.” Janeway’s smile widened as she leaned forward, kissing Seven softly.

Seven enjoyed the play of lips over hers, the gentle movement of pressure and taste. She would never tired of this, she thought, never tire of being with this woman, of holding her in her arms, of feeling her body, so warm and utterly perfect against her own. She closed her eyes as they parted, and Janeway settled down once more, her head tucked soft into the warm hollow of Seven’s shoulder and neck.

“Are you hungry?” the Borg asked after a long pause where they simply enjoyed a state of being together, simply enjoyed this period of existence.

Janeway laughed quietly. “For you?” She playfully nibbled on Seven’s collarbone.

Seven smiled. “In truth, I was thinking of dinner. I can complete its preparation.”

Janeway snuggled closer. “I don’t think I want to move. I’m perfectly happy right where I am. I don’t think I want you to move one millimeter away from me.”

Seven tightened her grip. “Then I shall not.”

She wasn’t tired, feeling energized in an odd sort of way, acutely aware of the woman in her arms. She thought about how Kathryn had made love to her, how familiar it had been in some ways, yet different in others. Kathryn had done certain things to her that the captain had never attempted before, providing many new sensations, and Seven had responded to them. She liked these new things, though she wondered why Janeway had waited until now to try them. Was it another facet of the different person the captain had become, one who was more conscious of Seven’s body and all the various nerve endings it contained? She wanted to ask her, but was unsure how to phrase the question.

“What?” Janeway asked quietly.

Startled, Seven glanced down at her. “I did not say anything.”

“I know, but you were going to. Your body tensed.”

Seven was impressed. “I did want to ask you about something, but I am uncertain how to ask it.”

“In what way?” Janeway reached up to kiss Seven’s jaw. “You can ask me anything, darling. Don’t ever be afraid of that.”

“I am not afraid of asking,” Seven corrected. “I do not know how to explain it so that you will understand what I am asking.”

“Just try, darling,” Janeway told her, amusement coloring her tone. “If it’s not clear initially, I’m sure we can eventually figure it out together.”

Seven nodded briefly. “Tonight, you touched me in places you have not before. At least not often, and never with your mouth. They are places that when I touch you, you do not react favorably to it and request that I refrain.”

Janeway’s hand moved, slid down between the couple’s bodies to where Seven was referring. “Here?” she asked, pressing against the young woman gently with her fingertips.

Seven reacted a little to the touch even though it had been meant for clarification rather than as a caress. “I find that very pleasurable. I like when you touch me there. I do not understand why you find it unpleasant.”

Janeway smiled. “Seven, we’re different people and we’re going to react differently to different things. And I don’t find being touched there unpleasant exactly, it’s more a matter of hygiene.”

Seven lifted an eyebrow. “Explain.”

Janeway took a breath. “Seven, because of your lack of bodily functions, you are remarkably … pristine … in areas that the normal human is not. Thanks to your nanoprobes, you don’t have the same risk of infection that I do. I believe that before, when you attempted to touch me like this, it was probably at times of intense passion, where I didn’t want to take the time to explain exactly why you had to be careful. It was probably easier for me to simply pull away, and indicate that I didn’t want to be touched there. For you to touch me in this manner, you have to be extremely careful about not touching me elsewhere until you’ve washed your hands. The transference of bacteria from there to any other part of me can have unfortunate consequences.”

Seven considered that with surprise. “How … inefficient. Are all Humans like that?”

Janeway made an amused sound. “Yes. Obviously we’ve never talked about this, and I suppose that’s my fault. Perhaps I just assumed you knew things that you didn’t.”

“I have researched Human sexuality, but my discoveries have been very concise and clinical. I had no indication how good different things feel, or what can be done to stimulate certain nerve endings. There is so much I learn just from being with you.”

Janeway snuggled closer. “I think that’s just the way it is, Annika. When I grew up, courses on human anatomy and sexuality were part of my schooling, but it was very dry stuff … rather like the doctor’s graphic seminars. The actual art of making love, of being intimate with someone, of learning all about another’s bodies as well as your own, can still be a process of trial and error. Maybe that’s fortunate because the discovery can be so wonderful in itself. In any event, I learned how risky being careless can be in my first affair, and it was very inconvenient to have to deal with it.”

“During your time with Cheb Packer, you mean.” Seven’s voice took on a disapproving tone.

Janeway blinked. “I didn’t realize you knew him.”

“When we were assimilated, I ‘experienced’ your first sexual encounter. He was very incompetent.”

Janeway started to laugh. “Darling, so was I.”

“He hurt you that first time,” Seven said darkly. “I do not believe you hurt him.”

Janeway looked at her, startled. “I suppose, but it wasn’t anything that he meant to do, darling. We were both young and inexperienced, and perhaps we didn’t take the time that should be taken in a first encounter, but that happens when you’re a teenager. The fact is, I learned a lot being with him, what I liked, what I didn’t, as I’m sure he did as well. In truth, towards the end, the physical interaction was actually better than the emotional relationship ever was.”

Seven shook her head. “I do not understand.”

Janeway shook her head. “No, I don’t suppose you do.” She smiled wistfully at her. “You’ve never been with anyone but me, have you?”

Seven raised an eyebrow. “No. You have always been very gentle and loving with me. I have rarely experienced physical discomfort with you.”

“I’m very glad, darling,” Janeway said gently. “Not everyone is fortunate enough to have their first time be with someone they love and who loves them, nor be with someone who is experienced enough to make it completely pleasurable.” She grinned suddenly. “In fact, I’ll bet if you think about it, our very first time was not all it could have been either.”

“It was wonderful,” Seven objected immediately.

“I’m sure it was,” Janeway agreed diplomatically, and Seven felt a pang deep inside as she realized that it was something Janeway did not remember at all. “But honestly, Annika, how did it compare to, say … tonight?”

Seven hesitated, thinking about it. “Tonight was wonderful.”

“Better?” Janeway prodded.

Seven dipped her head slightly. “Yes,” she admitted finally. “Much better.”

“Because you know me now and I think, my body also knew you in its own way. There were times when I touched you where I knew it was absolutely right. Darling, sex is always better when you love the person and trust them absolutely.”

Seven thought about it. “You did not love me our first time,” she said slowly, though it was a difficult thing for her to admit, especially to herself. “I believe you cared about me, and were attracted to me. You wanted to please me and be intimate with me, but I do not think you loved me. Not completely. That came later.”

“That’s entirely possible.” Janeway’s voice became very dry. “According to the personal logs I read, I was just considering the whole idea when you popped up unexpectedly in my bed one night.”

Seven hesitated. “You did not object,” she noted, somewhat defensively.

Janeway laughed and kissed her. “I’d have been a fool if I had. Honestly, it was a good thing you did catch me unawares, my love. I’d have waited forever before daring to approach you.”

“Why?”

“My rank,” Janeway explained easily. “The ship, the crew, the difficulties in such a relationship…”

“Yes, you told me these reasons before, but I still do not understand why you would let them keep you from being in love. Keep you from being happy.”

Janeway was silent for a long moment, and Seven waited patiently. When the captain spoke, it was in a very thoughtful voice. “I think,” she said slowly, “it all boils down to simple fear, Annika.”

“Fear?”

Janeway nodded. “The fear of getting hurt, whether professionally or personally. No one in the universe can hurt me so completely, darling. That is a power I have granted only to you.”

Seven took a breath. “I never want to hurt you.”

“I know, but you have, and you probably will again,” Janeway explained carefully. “Just as I have hurt you, and probably will again. All without intent or malice. It’s such a great responsibility to hold someone’s heart, so easy to be careless with it, or forget the importance of it. Things that affect you, affect me and vice versa. There is so much to adjust to, so much to consider when being with someone else. Yet, there is no greater thing than to love and be loved.” She shook her head. “Yet, I know that’s something I haven’t always recognized in my life.”

“And now?” Seven prompted curiously.

“Now, I understand it with every fibre of my being.” Janeway nuzzled Seven gently. “But I also know that there will be times when we shall both forget such a simple truth, when duty or circumstance make us less aware of exactly what matters, just as it has in the past. I can only hope that you’ll forgive any inadvertent pain I might bring you, just as I hope I’ll be able to forgive any you might bring me. That somehow we’ll continue to adapt and adjust and carry on, growing old together until we ultimately reach that final frontier.”

For just a moment, Seven saw their lives stretching out behind and before them, able to imagine their two wildly divergent paths that had somehow intersected to become one, irrevocable entwined, until that unified, infinitely complex path disappeared into the hidden mists that lay beyond life’s end. The young woman was profoundly moved, and shaken by what she could only identify as a vision of some sort.

“Are you all right?” Janeway studied her face with concern.

Seven nodded, hugging the captain tightly. “I am fine. I love you, Kathryn Janeway. I am so grateful you fell in love with me again.”

“Annika, I’m going to fall in love with you all over again, every day for the rest of my life.”

The captain found her lips, and Seven felt the warm, sensitive hands move over her body with a deliberate intent that she welcomed eagerly. Knowing that her heart was so full, it seemed impossible for it to contain any more, yet somehow managed to with every passing second.

Janeway leaned over Tom Paris’s shoulder as she studied the planetary readings coming from the system detected on the ship’s long range sensors. They did not seem promising, and with a sigh, she nodded, signifying he should move on to the next system. On the upper level, working with Harry Kim at his operations station, Chakotay went over the ship’s diagnostics, determining which areas could be bypassed in the event of a failure, and which ones needed immediate attention.

“This one looks good,” Tom said quietly.

Janeway frowned as she observed the data. “It does.” She glanced behind her. “Commander?”

Chakotay left operations and trotted down the stairs to the lowest level of the bridge where the helm was located. At Janeway’s gesture, he studied the readings on Tom’s monitor. “Three Class-M planets. The middle one with a temperate climate, atmosphere 98% Earth norm. The vegetation scans look promising. At least from this distance.” He glanced at the captain. “I think we should go for it.”

“I agree. Set a course, Tom.” She walked back to her command chair, and sat down, activating her monitor as Chakotay joined her, taking a position in the seat next to her. “No signs of civilization?”

“None so far,” Chakotay said, studying his own screen. “Wait.”

Startled, she glanced at him and he frowned, his dark eyes somber as studied his data. “Harry, are you picking up anything?” he asked, looking back at the young Lt. Kim, whose handsome features were serious as he worked.

“No sir.”

“I thought I saw an energy flux.”

Janeway went back to her screen, waiting for the next sweep of the planet. She blinked. “I see it too,” she said even as Harry added, “I have it now, Commander.”

Janeway grinned, and glanced over at her executive officer. “Nice catch.”

He returned her grin. “The eyes aren’t too old yet.”

She sobered. “What is it?”

“I think it’s a beacon of some sort.” Kim hesitated and then took a breath. “It’s a warning, Captain. The Universal Translator is decoding it now.” He waited. “This planet is claimed by the Tikanniti Empire. Do not land upon pain of death.”

“Welcoming sorts, aren’t they?” Chakotay looked over at the Vulcan who was manning the tactical station. “Tuvok?”

Tuvok raised an elegant eyebrow. “There are indications of weapons present, but the signatures are weak and unsteady.” He raised his head, his dark eyes seeking out the captain’s. “The sensors estimate the probable age of the installation at 300 years. There are no life signs in the vicinity.”

The captain’s pursed her lips slightly. “No sign of any other habitation?”

“None. Apparently, only the beacon was placed here. There is no sign of a colonization attempt, mining or other industrial use. The metal content of the planet’s crust is high, and the readings are well within habitable standards.”

“Of course, there’s no way of knowing what these Tikanniti determined was habitable, or what they might have wanted the planet for.”

“Do we chance it?” Chakotay asked.

She hesitated. Starfleet protocols for landing on planets clearly and blatantly claimed by other civilizations, were quite straight forward. On the other hand, Starfleet was a long way from here, and Voyager’s food supplies were in dire shape.

“Any indication of how long it’s been since the installation was last visited?” she asked idly to the bridge at large. She didn’t know who would answer, but she knew someone would as she saw all their heads bend conscientiously to their boards.

Harry got it first. “Sensors indicate that there are elements in the installation which are only 150 years old.”

“No sign of anything more recent?”

“No, Captain.”

“They built well,” Janeway said quietly. “But it seems abandoned now.”

“We can check it out,” Chakotay offered. “If it is just neglected rather than abandoned, we should be able to find out soon enough.”

“That’s what worries me. The finding out might include lethal force.” She paused. “In fact, it’s a possibility that it isn’t a display of force at all, but some sort of warning about a hazard on the planet itself, a disease or bacteria. Perhaps this is a form of quarantine.”

“We can try one of the other planets, or go on to the next system.” Chakotay was not indicating what he would prefer, only providing her with all the options he could think of.

“Can we afford that?” Janeway said in a low tone.

“It’s tight, Captain. Supplies are lean, and according to engineering, the food replicators aren’t going to be up anytime soon. This planet’s vegetation is compatible to us, and it could be awhile before we find another as good.”

She nodded. “We need more information.” She glanced up at Tom who was half turned in his chair, his boyish face inquisitive as he awaited her decision. “Put us in orbit, Tom. Yellow alert, raise shields. Set up a continual scan of the biosphere. Let’s see what we have here.”

The lights dimmed on the bridge, casting an amber glow over them as they waited with anticipation and controlled excitement. The door hissed open and Janeway glanced back to see Seven enter the bridge, taking up a position at the tactical station aft of the command chairs when she saw the alert status.

“Seven, have you have heard of the Tikanniti?”

“Species 632,” Seven said promptly. “The Borg added their biological and technological distinctiveness 87 years ago. They originated in a system 600 light years from here, and used a propulsion system that required the expenditure of great amounts of energy. Though their ships rivaled Voyager in size, frequently they only carried a crew of six or seven individuals, able to travel huge distances, but at a prohibitive cost. They made a habit of claiming every uninhabited planet they encountered during their explorations in the hope that, one day, they would be able to colonize and exploit them.”

There was an immediate easing of tension on the bridge, and Janeway cast a rueful glance at Chakotay who grinned at her. “Next time, let’s just ask Seven.”

“It would save time … and adrenalin.” Janeway glanced back at her partner. “Did they ever utilize any of these claimed planets?”

“Their technology was flawed, and never achieved the ability to transport large amounts of cargo or people.” Seven paused thoughtfully. “The Collective did not gain a great deal by assimilating them.”

“I’m sure the Tikanniti thought the same thing,” Tom said dryly.

Seven glanced at him, raising an eyebrow, obviously catching the sarcasm, before returning her attention to the captain. “Sensors indicate a Tikanniti installation.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“It will contain a weapons system, but it will have decayed significantly. It is likely that it is no longer operational.”

“Still, we don’t need to take unnecessary chances.” Janeway looked forward. “Tom, keep the planet between us and the installation. We can use this side for gathering our supplies. Make sure any flight path of the shuttles remain well clear of its range.”

“Aye, Captain,” he said, keying in the controls.

“In the meantime,” she added, glancing at Chakotay, “I still want those sensor sweeps. I don’t want any surprises for the away team. I also want a list of who you intend to send down on my desk within the hour.”

“Understood.”

She glanced back at Seven, aware that there was no real reason for the young woman to be on the bridge right now. She raised a quizzical eyebrow, to which Seven tilted her head slightly in the general direction of the ready room, indicating that she wished to speak with the captain privately. Janeway raised her eyebrow again, asking if it was professional or personal. The slight dip to Seven’s head, along with a soft expression in her eyes, told the captain it was personal, but not urgent, and that it could wait until the captain was free. Janeway nodded briefly, indicating that now was acceptable.

This silent communication took no more than a few seconds, and Janeway looked back at Chakotay who was completely oblivious of it. “Until then, I’ll be in my ready room.”

He nodded as Janeway stood, and motioned with her chin to Seven, who obligingly followed her as the captain strode briskly off the bridge. If anyone thought this was unusual, they did not mention it, and Janeway was struck by the sudden thought that she had no idea when and where she had developed all these subtle, nonverbal signals with Seven.

The captain mounted the short flight of stairs to the upper level of her ready room where large windows of transparent aluminum loomed over a blue couch and matching chairs. In front of the sofa was a coffee table with a glass top on which rested a silver serving tray. A tall thermos stood starkly upright, the purely functional cylinder looking out of place against the delicate lines of the tea set sharing the tray with it. Janeway opened the thermos, and poured the liquid it contained into an elegant white teacup, banded by gold around the rim, the rich aroma of coffee rising into her nostrils with the steam. With pleasure, she picked it up and sipped it, savoring the deep roast flavor before turning to look at Seven who was standing patiently behind her, hands linked behind her back, regarding the captain with an indulgent expression.

Janeway flicked an eyebrow. “It’s only my second cup,” she said, somewhat defensively.

“I am impressed with your restraint,” Seven responded deadpan. “It is already 1400 hours.”

Janeway made an amused face at her, and sank down onto the couch. “What’s going on?”

Seven took a seat in one of the chairs, her posture absolutely perfect, hands folded neatly on her lap. Janeway wondered if her partner would ever learn to slouch … or if she even wanted her to.

“It is Jake.”.

Janeway felt her lips twitch. Seven had been planning to retrieve the puppy and his things from Ensign Wildman’s quarters earlier in the day. “Go on.”

Seven took a deep breath. “Naomi seemed very dismayed at returning him. She cried a great deal.” Not only had that surprised Seven, it was obvious from her expression that it had also disturbed her deeply. She looked anxiously at the captain. “Additionally, he has destroyed a pair of Ensign Wildman’s boots by chewing on them. I told her you would arrange to replace them, but she was … not pleased. Jake is very disturbed as well. He howled all the way back to our quarters, and has not stopped. He does not want to live with us anymore, Kathryn.”

“Oh dear,” Janeway said, trying to hide her smile.

Seven stared at her. “You are amused,” she said in tones of outrage. “You believe this is humorous.”

Caught, Janeway shook her head, holding up a hand in mute apology. “Not really, darling, but after everything else that’s been happening, this seems positively … minor … in comparison.”

“Everyone is upset,” Seven said tartly. “Especially Jake.”

“They’ll get over it,” Janeway assured her. “Including Jake. He just misses Naomi because she played with him all the time.”

Seven looked very unhappy. “Perhaps…” Then she stopped, not finishing her thought. That was very unusual, and Janeway frowned.

“What?”

“Perhaps Jake would be better off with Naomi. We cannot give him the attention she can. He seems happier with her.”

Janeway clamped down on her immediate response, which was somewhat rude. Instead, she took a deep breath, forcing herself to remember that Seven adored Jake as much as she did despite her occasional pretense to the contrary. This was not a matter of the Borg wanting to get rid of him, it simply meant that Seven loved Jake enough to want him to be happy, even if it meant that she would not be. Seven had a much gentler heart than the captain, something Janeway had suspected for some time, though she didn’t think anyone else on the ship was aware of it.

“Annika, Naomi is not capable of taking care of a growing puppy, which means Ensign Wildman would have to. That’s not a fair thing to ask of her,” Janeway explained carefully. “Also, while I suspect you’re correct in saying that Jake would enjoy being with the child more, we can manage that without giving him up. We’ll just have to make some sort of visitation arrangement through the day when we’re on duty, and Naomi isn’t in school.”

Seven nodded with relief. “That is a better solution.” She frowned. “I should have thought of that, and not bothered you.”

Janeway put down her cup and leaned forward, reaching out to put her hand on Seven’s, entwining their fingers. “You never bother me,” she said softly, looking into her eyes intently. “Except in the way I love to be bothered.”

Uncertainly, Seven looked at her, then blushed faintly. “Still, you are on duty now.”

“Maybe, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned about children and dogs, they don’t care about duty. Who knows, maybe they have the right set of priorities.” She smiled. “Seven, if I couldn’t speak with you now, I’d have let you know. I want you to come to me with these things. We’re still partners, regardless of the command structure we happen to find ourselves in at any given moment.”

Seven took a breath. “Before, you would not have said that. You are indeed a different person now.”

Janeway tilted her head. “Does that still bother you?”

Seven looked thoughtfull. “I think I like it … and you … a great deal better.”

Janeway blinked. “Oh,” she said, not knowing whether to be flattered or insulted by that, then decided for her own peace of mind to be neither. “All right.” She brought Seven’s hand up to her lips, kissing the knuckles gently. “But I do have duties to attend now.”

“As do I,” Seven remarked. “I will arrange a schedule for Naomi to see Jake. Then I must report to astrometrics.”

She abruptly stood up in preparation of leaving, pausing in mild surprise as Janeway reached out and caught her hands, restraining her gently.

“I do expect a kiss before you go, however,” the captain said huskily. “That’s an order.”

Seven smiled then, her wonderful rare smile. “That is an order I shall always obey willingly,” she said as she took Janeway into her arms.

They kissed gently, and when that went well, they kissed again, more passionately. Then, a third kiss, deeper still, open and lingering, and Janeway felt herself falling easily into the warmth and tenderness of their embrace.

“I must go,” Seven murmured finally against the captain’s lips. “I have duty.”

“Yes, you do,” Janeway agreed, holding the young woman even tighter.

“It is difficult,” Seven whispered. “To let you go.”

Janeway nuzzled her, nibbling on her bottom lip. “I think we’re in our honeymoon period, darling.”

“‘Honeymoon’?”

Janeway smiled. “It’s a period of time when two people first become lovers, and they can’t keep away from each other.” She pressed against the young woman, stroking Seven’s body through the thin material of the Borg’s outfit, cupping the full breast, and feeling delightfully wicked as the nipple suddenly protruded beneath her fingertips. “I know I’m having an impossible time keeping my hands off you.”

Seven allowed a brief smile to warm her ice blue eyes, and with gentle determination, she grasped the captain’s wrists, pushing her away. “Then I must be strong. I will see you in our quarters after our shifts are complete.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Janeway told her, grinning at her impertinently.

Seven eyed her briefly, then turned and descended the short flight of stairs. The captain crossed her arms over her chest and watched as her partner walked away from her, lustful appreciation lighting her eyes as she greedily drank in the undulations of the firm buttocks and long legs. Then, as the door slid shut behind the Borg, Janeway shook her head, amused at how she was acting, smiling wryly to herself as she retrieved her coffee.

Forcing herself to get back to work.

Seven of Nine finished the chart for a nebula some 20 light-years away, using the long range sensors to pinpoint its composition. Lying directly in their path back to the Alpha Quadrant, it was not large as these things went, but it was significant enough that they would have to use up a lot of time to go around. Yet, it seemed that going through it would be unwise since it contained an excessive amount of radiation.

Seven did not think that they would be able to try the same trick they had used previously where the crew were placed in stasis tubes, and she had flown the ship through by herself. For one thing, it would take longer than a month to cross, and for another, she no longer had the same resistance to radiation that she had then. The loss of her abdominal implant had decreased her immunity to a lot of things, though truth be told, she much preferred being without it.

Despite her best efforts to concentrate on work, she found her thoughts increasingly occupied with her partner. The captain seemed far more amorous now than she had prior to her injury, and while some of that was no doubt due to their recent deprivation, it seemed out of character for Kathryn. On the other hand, Seven was still learning about the woman she now loved. Perhaps this was just another layer she had uncovered, another facet to the personality that Kathryn was allowing her to understand.

Seven sighed quietly, reaching out to touch the soft petals of a single red rose that sat on her console, contained in a crystal vase. She knew that Janeway was expending one of her replication slips every day, just so Seven could have a fresh flower waiting for her when she came into her lab. Oddly enough, the captain persisted in denying it, scoffing at the thought she would give up an extra cup of coffee for such a thing, but the protests were completely unconvincing. So Seven could only hug her tightly, and thank her anyway.

She turned as the soft hiss of the opening door heralded the arrival of someone, identifying the ship’s chief engineer. “B’Elanna Torres.” She tilted her head slightly. “Is something wrong?”

While Voyager was in orbit around the planet, several away teams had transported down to gather foodstuffs. B’Elanna had been taking the opportunity to refine all the repairs Seven had overseen. The Borg hoped they met with the chief engineer’s approval.

The dark, compact female, with the distinctive Klingon ridges on her forehead, frowned at Seven. “What makes you think anything’s wrong?”

Seven hesitated. “Nothing,” she said finally, after discarding an entire list of obvious clues that she had learned would only serve to further aggravate the other woman. Normally, she would indulge in that, prodding the Klingon into annoyance for the sheer sake of seeing how B’Elanna would react, but she decided not to this day. For some reason, she sensed the engineer was already far more edgy than she should be, and not in an amusing fashion, either. “May I assist you?”

“I want to know what you did with the plasma intake relay,” B’Elanna said, slapping a padd down on Seven’s astrometrics console.

Seven blinked. “Why? Is it malfunctioning?”

“No, it’s improved efficiency by eight percent,” B’Elanna snapped.

Seven raised an eyebrow. Why the engineer was so clearly upset about an improvement in efficiency was beyond her comprehension.

“I recalibrated the vent transfers,” she said cautiously. “Realigning them allowed for a quicker flow.”

B’Elanna punched the console with a resounding thud, making Seven jump. “Dammit, Seven, why didn’t you come to me with this?”

“Is that why you are upset? Because I did not obtain your authorization?” Seven asked, puzzled. “You were still incapacitated by the poison.”

“No, because this should have been done a year ago,” B’Elanna responded, and to Seven’s astonishment, she was shouting now. “Why did you wait this long?”

“A year ago you would not allow me to do such an adjustment,” Seven pointed out honestly, completely confused. “Nor did you agree with me when I suggested it. I believe you mentioned something about me being unable to grasp the finer points of Starfleet technology.”

“Why the hell did you listen to me?”

Seven took a breath. This conversation was bordering on the absurd, and it occurred to her that possibly there was something else causing this strong emotion in her friend. She hesitated, and then took a wild stab at it.

“How are you and Chakotay progressing?”

B’Elanna stared at her, mouth open as if unable to believe what Seven had just said, then her face crumpled and she turned away. Seven gathered that meant her guess had been very close to accurate, and she allowed herself a certain amount of pride for being so astute before she belatedly became aware that the Klingon was actually weeping.

“B’Elanna?”

Seven did not have a lot of experience with crying females, other than her spouse, and B’Elanna was the last person she would have expected to react in such a way. In fact, the engineer was the strongest person Seven knew … after Kathryn, of course. She carefully put her hand on B’Elanna’s shoulders, amazed at how fragile it suddenly seemed. “Are you all right?”

“No, I’m not all right,” B’Elanna snuffled. “Do I damned well look all right?”

“No, you do not. That is why I inquired.” She gently pulled the smaller woman around, looking worriedly into her friend’s face that was flushed and tear stained. “Please tell me what is wrong, B’Elanna.”

“Chakotay and I broke up,” the Klingon whispered.

Seven was startled. “When?”

“Last night,” the Klingon said, and burst into tears once more.

The young woman threw her arms around a horrified Seven, and buried her face on the young woman’s chest. The Borg felt unmistakable dampness spread rapidly through her outfit, similar to when Jake had been much younger and had an ‘accident’. That had been equally as unpleasant, and awkwardly, Seven patted B’Elanna on the back, feeling very uncomfortable. It occurred to her, that except for Janeway, she had never actually touched anyone else for very long, certainly not in a comforting mode. Holding B’Elanna was not at all reminiscent of holding Kathryn. The Klingon was all hard edges and solid bone, heavy in Seven’s arms, particularly when compared to the delicate form of the captain.

“B’Elanna, would you like me to call Kathryn?”

“No,” B’Elanna said, abruptly stepping away, and pulling a big white cloth from her sleeve that she used to wipe her face and blow her nose. Loudly. “She’d just take his side.”

“His side?”

B’Elanna looked at Seven, betrayal and outrage dominant in her eyes. “He blames me for his ex-girlfriend going psycho. Can you believe that?”

Seven considered that. “No,” she answered honestly. “Lt. James was already emotionally disturbed before you threatened to kill her.”

“Exactly!” B’Elanna began to pace. “I mean, it’s not like he knows what the hell he’s doing when it comes to women anyway. Seska was a damned Cardassian for crying out loud.”

Seven wondered if she should ask who Seska was, and decided she shouldn’t complicate matters which were already confusing enough. “Have you told him this?”

“He doesn’t listen,” B’Elanna stormed. “Men never do. They always think they’re right, and you can’t change their minds.” She stopped and stared at Seven. “Tell me something, why is it when every other couple on this ship has a crisis, they fall apart, but when you and the captain go through hell, you come out of it stronger than ever?”

Seven did not know what to say. “We love each other.”

“That can’t be all there is to it,” B’Elanna objected. She stalked around the room, glaring furiously at nothing in particular. Seven was actually glad to see this. A furious Torres was a great deal easier to comprehend than a distraught Torres. “I love him. I thought he loved me. Why the hell did he blame me for something his old girlfriend did? I loved Tom, I thought he loved me, but the second he thinks I’m dead, he goes and sleeps with Jennifer Delaney.” She stopped and glared at Seven who flinched slightly. “It’s because you’re both women, isn’t it?”

“I do not know.”

B’Elanna nodded, obviously convinced by her conclusion. “Men and women were never meant to be together. Take away the reproductive aspect, and the whole concept is just totally incomprehensible.” She took a deep breath, then nodded her head as if coming to a conclusion. “Men and women have nothing in common. Women do. I’m going to have to find myself a woman.” She slapped Seven soundly on the arm. “Thanks Seven, I really appreciate your help.”

She turned, and left the astrometrics lab as Seven stared after her with both confusion and apprehension. Wondering what exactly she had done to help B’Elanna.

Not to mention how much trouble it could potentially cause.

Captain Janeway entered her quarters and stopped, regarding her dog curiously. Jake lay in the middle of the floor, ears down, eyes moist and sad. He glanced briefly over at her, sighed, and stared straight ahead again, obviously depressed. She felt her lips twitch, and she strolled over to him, kneeling down next to the hairy ball of red.

“What’s wrong, boy,” she said quietly, patting him gently on his ribs. “You’ve been moping around for a week. You really don’t like Naomi leaving you here, do you?”

He whimpered and looked pathetic. She rolled her eyes, and with a resigned sigh, she picked him up, noting that it wasn’t as easy as it once was, the pup rapidly increasing in size every day. He suddenly seemed to be all legs, ungainly and hard to hold as she carried him over to the couch and sat down with him on her lap, a bit relieved to be rid of the weight.

“That’s a good boy,” she crooned. “It’s going to be all right. Seven and I aren’t so bad to live with, are we?”

She patted him lavishly, and eventually the tip of his tail quivered briefly. She scratched his ears, then rolled him over on his back, rubbing his belly gently. The tail thumped once, then again. Finally, he rolled over and jumped up on her, trying to lick her face.

Janeway guessed this meant he had forgiven them for not allowing him to live with his child. Or what would surely be better in his opinion, the child allowed to live here with him.

“I promise to play with you more,” she told him, thumping him soundly on the ribs, even as she knew that was a promise she was unlikely to keep.

She pushed him onto the deck, and smiled as she got up, glad to see his natural exuberant manner had returned. He gamboled around her as she went to the replicator, and spent a ration to make his supper. She realized she still had to make up for his board the weeks he had been away, so she made a note in her padd, authorizing Ensign Wildman to receive double ration strips for the next two weeks, as well as signing a request to stores for a new pair of boots, taking it out of her and Seven’s allotment. She took it over to the work area, uploaded the memo into the main computer where it would be recorded by the program that kept track of supplies and equipment, as well as the rationing system.

She hoped when Ensign Wildman got back from the planet’s surface where she had joined Neelix’s team, she would be pleasantly surprised, and not still so annoyed that she couldn’t be utilized as a dog sitter in the future.

She glanced up as Seven entered, smiling warmly at the Borg. She noticed that her partner’s expression was downcast, but the young woman did not hesitate in coming over to be embraced. Janeway hugged her waist tightly, and looked up into the narrow features.

“What’s wrong?”

Seven appeared startled, and Janeway wondered briefly if she had been somewhat less conscious of her partner’s moods before her injury. Certainly, Seven gave indications that what should be normal concern on Janeway’s part was something she did not always expect.

Hey, remember your logs? her little voice prodded acidly. You forgot her birthday. Of course you were oblivious to her needs.

Janeway hoped her current awareness of Seven’s subtle expressions was something that would stay with her.

“I am experiencing regret,” the young woman explained, bending her head to rest her cheek against the captain’s temple. “Chakotay and B’Elanna have ‘broken up’.”

Janeway frowned. “That’s too bad, darling. I know I can’t remember it very well, but I sensed they got along well.”

“Chakotay blames her for Lt. James’s actions.” Seven looked at her captain. “Will you speak with him?”

Janeway blinked, startled. “Annika, it’s hardly a captain’s place to interfere in the romantic lives of her crew.”

Seven raised an eyebrow in astonishment. “That has never stopped you before. You tried very hard to reunite B’Elanna and Tom when they ‘broke up’.” She paused, then regarded Janeway with sudden suspicion. “Are you going to make the attempt again, now that B’Elanna and Chakotay are no longer together?”

Janeway didn’t quite know what to say. “Uh, darling I don’t think that’s the right thing to do. It’s better to stay out of other people’s love lives.”

Seven stared at her, looking very confused. Then she sighed. “Sometimes it is more difficult than others to understand the changes you have gone through. They seem so … random.”

Seven sounded so disgruntled, that Janeway was hard pressed not to laugh. “I know,” she said, schooling her voice to a more sympathetic tone. “It’s hard for me too.”

Seven suddenly tightened her grip. “I did not mean to indicate I disliked the changes,” she said in a more subdued tone.

“Annika, it’s all right,” Janeway soothed. “My memory, or lack thereof, is a fact of life. It’s not anything we need to dance around, or tread lightly upon. Nor is it something I’m sensitive about, all right?”

Seven sighed. “What are we going to do about B’Elanna?”

“We’re not going to do anything about B’Elanna,” Janeway told her firmly. “The only thing you can do is be a friend, and listen when she needs to talk.”

“But she is so unhappy,” Seven insisted.

“I’m sorry to hear that, but this is something she needs to work out for herself.”

“She says she is going to find herself a woman. She no longer believes men and women are meant to be together.” She paused. “Is that a sound theory?”

Janeway swallowed her smile. “It sounds a little misguided, darling. It’s not about gender so much as it’s about who the person is inside, if you’re compatible, if the emotion between you is strong enough to withstand any obstacle. It’s about who’s right for you.”

Seven nodded thoughtfully, then glanced into the captain’s eyes and smiled briefly. “You are the right one for me.”

Janeway reached up and kissed her gently. “I’m glad you feel that way, because you are imminently suitable for me,” she noted in a low murmur. They shared several more kisses, light, gentle, very sweet gradually deepening and becoming more insistent. Janeway was shaky when she finally pulled away. “Oh my.”

Seven took a breath. “It has been difficult to control myself lately.”

“Oh love, I know exactly what you mean.” Janeway kissed Seven’s chin, nibbling along the jawline. “Perhaps we’re just making up for lost time. Were we like this originally?”

“I do not believe so.”

“Perhaps this attraction between us is much stronger now. I just want to be with you all the time, Annika.”

Seven seemed surprised, but accepting. “I want to be with you.” She tugged at Janeway’s uniform. “Let us be together.”

Janeway laughed. “I’m not arguing,” she said, shrugging out of her tunic.

She reached up to the back of Seven’s neck where the Borg’s outfit fastened, her fingers fumbling a little as she managed to undo it, and she pulled off the skintight mesh material, peeling it down Seven’s torso and over her hips. In the meantime, Seven was loosening the Starfleet uniform, removing the sweater, helping the captain out of her trousers and boots, both tossing aside the restrictive garments without regard in their haste to be together.

They sank to the floor, too eager to take the extra steps to the bedroom or, for that matter, even to the couch across the room. This romantic idea displayed its impracticality immediately as Jake tore across the room, and jumped on Seven’s back, thinking this must be a fun sort of game indeed. Janeway let out a muted ‘oof’ as Seven was flattened onto her, feeling the weave of the carpet imprint itself onto her back.

“We cannot make love like this,” the Borg complained, shrugging the puppy away as she took her weight off Janeway, allowing her to breathe once more. “It is inefficient.”

Janeway gulped, swallowing her outburst of laughter, eyes bright as she looked up at her lover. “Now I know the real reason you want to give him to Naomi.”

Seven looked at her, startled, then sighed as she saw the captain was not being serious. “I do remember when we used to be able to make love out here without his input.” She abruptly picked the captain up, lifting her easily much to Janeway’s surprise and gratification, and carried her into the bedroom where the captain found herself laid gently down on the mattress. “You were right not to allow him to sleep with us or we would never be able to make love at all.”

“And that would be very, very bad,” Janeway said sincerely. She thought her partner looked absolutely adorable standing over her naked, long hair mussed, hands resting on her luscious hips. Janeway’s eyes widened. “Come here.”

Seven raised an eyebrow. “Is that an order, Captain?”

“Oh yes,” Janeway responded huskily. “Consider yourself on very active duty for the foreseeable future, serving a command detail of the most intensive kind.”

Seven blinked. “Indeed. What might that entail?”

Janeway reached out for her. “Let me show you.”

Seven of Nine stared up at the ceiling, swallowing hard against a mouth gone dry from panting, trying to dredge up some remnants of saliva. She felt Kathryn’s body slide over hers, incredibly warm, slick with perspiration and other, more earthy fluids, sighing as the captain began to nibble at her breasts once more.

“We are required to sleep sometime,” she noted feebly.

“What happened to all that Borg stamina?” Kathryn paused in her attentions to look mischievously at her. “It’s not even midnight.”

“We have been making love since 1800,” Seven pointed out. “That was five hours ago … without pause for rest or nutritional supplements.”

“This is a bad thing?” Kathryn asked curiously.

“No, but it is very unusual.”

Kathryn stared at her. “It is? Have I never showed you the real me?”

“If the ‘real you’ is insatiable,” Seven said dryly. “Then, I would have to say ‘no’.”

Kathryn looked thoughtful, idly fingering a nipple. “Annika, honestly, I’ve always liked sex, and one of my favorite discoveries about being with you is that, unlike my male lovers, you don’t have to stop to recover.”

“I do right now,” Seven protested.

Kathryn seemed to concede the point. “I suppose five hours is a bit much,” she allowed somewhat insincerely. “Darling, have we never indulged like this?”

Seven thought about it. “Sometimes. Only at my initiation, however, and never for this long. Sometimes I even felt as if I was too … interested in physical intimacy. I sensed that you were … being tolerant of a weakness within me.”

Kathryn blinked, suddenly sobering. “Then I did you a great disservice, my darling. I absolutely love being with you, Annika. I love how you feel, how you taste, how you smell. I feel as if I can’t get enough of you.”

Seven raised an eyebrow. “You have said that before, but until now, I do not think I really believed you meant it.”

“More fear,” Kathryn said softly, shaking her head ruefully. “I was so afraid of showing you who I was, with all my wants and needs and desires, afraid they might be perceived as a weakness. I must have wanted to display only strength and discipline.”

Seven considered that. “Why?”

Kathryn pursed her lips. “I don’t know. Maybe because you’re female. Maybe because you’re a crewmember under my command. Maybe because I was afraid that if you saw the real me, how much I desire you, how possessive and aggressive I can be, it would scare you away.”

Seven took a breath. “You would never scare me away.”

“I’m glad.” Janeway smiled suddenly, and flicked Seven’s nipple with a fingertip. “Was that enough of a time out? Are you recovered yet?”

Seven whimpered, doing her best to sound pitiful. “I require liquid,” she said weakly. “I am becoming dehydrated.”

“I think we’re doing wonderfully in the wetness department,” Janeway leered.

Seven eyed her uncertainly, then realized she was being facetious. “I require fluids I can metabolize,” she insisted. “To restore my electrolytes.”

Janeway grinned at her, but obligingly hopped up to get water from the ensuite. While the captain attended to the refreshments, Seven contemplated her body and wondered if she could muster enough energy for another bout. The ironic thing was, she knew that if she still had her abdominal implant, there would be no question about her endurance, but since the implant’s removal, she did not have the same ability to go without sleep or nutrients with no adverse affect as she had before. Still, it seemed impossible to her that the small, compact captain, who was almost twenty years older, possessed more stamina and vitality than Seven did. She wondered if this was the secret behind Janeway’s undefeated streak in Velocity … an inhuman, unnatural ability to go beyond the body’s normal limitations.

Or perhaps there was something wrong with Seven herself. A lack of some amino acid or vitamin perhaps. She would have to speak to the Doctor about it.

She glanced up as Kathryn joined her, carrying a tall pitcher of water in which ice cubes clinked mutely. The captain poured a glass for her partner, and offered it to the young woman. Seven sat up and drank eagerly, grateful for the cold fluid filling her, holding it out for a refill which the captain immediately obeyed. After two more glasses, Seven’s thirst was finally quenched. Kathryn took the glass, filled it with ice and hopped up on the bed, straddling the Borg who found herself abruptly flattened against the mattress.

“Let me teach you the difference between hot and cold, darling,” Kathryn said huskily.

“I know the difference between hot and cold,” Seven responded warily, looking up at her.

Kathryn leered gently at her. “Not like this.”

She began to stroke Seven’s nipple with her left hand, and despite her weariness, Seven could not help but be aroused. She considered Kathryn’s caress for a moment. “Your fingers are warm,” she noted, in case that was what Kathryn was getting at. “Not overly warm, however.”

“The lesson’s just beginning,” Kathryn said, leaning down to kiss her. The captain’s mouth seemed very hot, and Seven wondered if this was what she had meant. She was vaguely aware of the captain fishing an ice cube out of the glass with her fingers, but when Kathryn suddenly pulled away from the kiss, popped the cube in her mouth, bent down and covered Seven’s breast, the Borg was immediately enlightened.

“Oh … ahh,” Seven exclaimed. “Kathryn!”

She paused, swallowing hard at the sensation of ice against her already stimulated breast, the mixture of tongue and cube swirling around her nipple.

“This is … an interesting lesson,” she added unsteadily.

Seven could feel the bright edge of teeth as Kathryn smiled around the nipple, now so hard it ached. The Borg let her breath out slowly. She never would have imagined that cold could be so stimulating, or was it just the contrast to the warmth of Kathryn? She could not decide. She only knew it felt wonderful and exciting, and extemely arousing.

The captain explored every inch of Seven’s body, alternating the warmth of her mouth and hands to the sudden chill of ice at just the right moment to inspire the most intense sensations. Seven wondered how Kathryn knew where to touch her before she lost most of her analytical ability as her lover finally reached the juncture of her legs, and started doing the most amazing things with the little cubes of frozen water. When Kathryn gently inserted a small cube into Seven as she covered the hard little ridge with the searing heat of her mouth, the Borg lost the ability to think much at all.

It took some time before Seven came back to herself, to her reality, shivering as the sensations died away, leaving her weak and a little cold. Kathryn drew the blankets up around them, and wrapped herself around Seven, her body a comforting and welcome warmth.

“How do you formulate these ideas?” Seven asked huskily, after they had relaxed for long moments in the dim illumination.

“Just gifted, I guess,” Kathryn said calmly.

Seven blinked, thought about it, and finally realized it was an attempt at humor. “I am glad you are sharing that gift with me.”

Kathryn laughed. “I thought I was being too much for you,” she said slyly, shifting so that she was now propped up on the Borg’s chest, looking down at her with a raised eyebrow. “Do you like being ravished?”

“‘Ravished’?”

“Making love until you can’t, anymore,” Kathryn clarified.

Seven frowned briefly. “I can still make love,” she said, her pride finally piqued. “The water has restored my energy level.”

Kathryn grinned. “Oh, really,” she murmured, bending down to kiss Seven gently. “We’ll have to see about that.”

Seven wondered what that meant, then Kathryn showed her … more times than the young woman could keep track.

Janeway woke late the next day in gloriously tangled sheets, and the weight of an arm draped heavily across her body, sideways in the bed rather than in the traditional north to south position. She stretched, wincing a bit at the stiffness and the tender parts of her that set up a clamor of protest.

Dear god, what was I thinking?

It had almost been a compulsion, a driving need to prove to Seven that she loved her utterly, that she could not get enough of her physically. Janeway glanced over at her partner who was lying on her belly, sound asleep, not stirring even when the captain shifted position, easing from beneath the slender arm and out of bed.

Well, I guess I proved it, Janeway thought, grinning wryly as she looked down on the young woman sprawled across the bed, completely unconscious. Poor darling, I’ve worn her out.

She leaned down, and kissed Seven gently on the temple, pulling the sheet up around her, tucking her in. Then she walked somewhat gingerly to the ensuite where she programmed the tub for a bath, feeling every one of her forty-three years plus a few more besides.

Sometimes I’m too damned enterprising for my own good, she decided somewhat ruefully.

She poured her favorite oils into the tub, then got in, sinking down into the smooth, silky water with a sigh of utter bliss. The lingering soreness seeped out of her, leaving behind a pleasant lassitude and she smiled, head back, closing her eyes as she soaked. Time became meaningless. and it was finally the scent of Columbian Gold coffee that drew her from her floating contentment. She opened her eyes partway to see a mug offered only inches from her face, steam rising from its deep black surface, wafting towards her nostrils that quivered at the rich aroma.

“Have I ever told you how absolutely perfect you are, my darling?” she said lazily in a deeply seductive voice as she accepted the mug.

“Not recently, sweetheart,” the Doctor remarked. “It’s always nice to hear, however.”

Janeway started abruptly, barely able to keep from spilling her mug into her bath as water sloshed over the sides. She turned her head, glaring daggers at the neatly uniformed hologram kneeling next to the tub. “What the hell are you doing?” she hissed. There was no point in trying to cover up. It wasn’t a bubble bath, and besides, her hands were full with the coffee mug.

He raised an eyebrow. “You had an appointment last night at 1900, so I stopped by to see if anything was the matter. Seven let me in and instructed me to take that to you.” He frowned as he tilted his head and stared pointedly at the coffee mug. “She seemed to think you could not start your day without it. Have I ever mentioned that you drink far too much of the stuff?”

“Don’t bother,” she said, sipping her drink, relieved to see that it was indeed Seven’s special brew, and not something the doctor had come up with. She eyed him and made a face. “I forgot about the appointment,” she added, somewhat contritely.

He sighed. “Captain, your short term memory is perfectly fine. If you do not remember your checkups, I have to believe it’s on purpose.”

Janeway dipped her head slightly, not willing to concede the point but perfectly aware that it was accurate. “If I’m fine,” she said silkily. “Then why do I need to see you?”

“Just to be sure.” He drew out his medical tricorder, removed a probe and began to run it over her. “Stay still, will you?”

“Must you do that here?” she asked with annoyance.

“I wanted to do it last night in sickbay.” He flicked a glance at her. “Honestly, captain, I’m a hologram, not a peeping Tom. It’s not as if I haven’t seen it all before.” His voice gave the indication that he was infinitely weary of what he had to see regarding her body, piquing her vanity. It took an effort to hold back her initial tart rejoinder.

“Will this take long?” she asked, when she finally allowed herself to speak.

“No longer than it would have last night. Hmm, neural pathways are all healthy, no sign of scar tissue. Synapses seem to be firing on all nodes.” He sniffed, then regarded her gravely. “You have not regained any more memory since our last checkup, have you?”

She sighed. “Bits and pieces continue to pop up,” she admitted. “Nothing of significance, however.”

He nodded, a compassionate expression suddenly coloring his dark eyes. “I believe that is all there is going to be, Captain,” he said with uncharacteristic gentleness. “The occasional fragment. I had held out hopes for a full recovery but now …” He trailed off, looking at her unhappily.

She nodded. “I had arrived at that conclusion myself. I’m doing fine, Doctor. In fact, I count myself fortunate in a lot of ways.”

He nodded, then seemed to straighten, the gentle moment passing. He looked at the tricorder screen and made a dissatisfied sound. “Captain, you have several minor contusions and bruises. What were you doing? Wrestling with your dog?”

“Not exactly,” Janeway said dryly. She glanced down at her chest, noting the marks that were turning yellowish. She forced herself not to blush. “Is that everything?”

He glanced at her, seemed to realize he had pushed his chief medical officer authority as far as he could, and nodded. “Do try to remember our next appointment,” he said, though it was clear he did not have any expectation for such an outcome. He looked very resigned. “Have a good day, Captain.”

“You too,” she said with more graciousness than she felt, watching as he went out. A few moments passed, and Seven appeared in the doorway.

“Do you wish to eat breakfast here or on the table?” She was dressed in the short black robe that always served to inspire lustful thoughts in the captain. Janeway was amused to see it still maintained its power, even after a night of unrelenting passion.

“I’m getting out,” she replied. “Annika?”

“Yes Kathryn?” Seven paused, looked back.

“Don’t let the Doctor come in here, again, not unless I’m severely injured, and there’s no other option.”

“Very well,” Seven said agreeably, obviously unaware that it was not seemly for just anyone to stroll into the captain’s bath.

Janeway sighed again. and rose from the water, satisfied that the bath had eased most of her stiffness, and she was once more moving easily. She pinned up her hair, and drew on a sedate, peach-colored robe, strolling out into the living area where Seven was already sitting at the table. She found her pips and comm badge next to her place setting, and she realized that Seven had done some tidying up. The last time the captain had seen them, they had been attached to her uniform that had landed in very separate parts of the room, the tunic on the couch, her sweater over a desk in the work area. Now the room was immaculate, breakfast prepared and waiting. It occurred to Janeway as she removed the stasis lid from her dish, that Seven made for the perfect Starfleet officer’s wife.

She raised an eyebrow as she regarded her breakfast, then glanced Seven. “Oatmeal?” she said, in the exact same tone she would use for saying ‘Kazon’.

“It only requires one ration strip each,” Seven explained. “I already had the brown sugar. It seemed the most efficient and nutritional choice.”

Janeway sighed and picked up her spoon. “Honestly, Seven, we need to get the food replicators back on line. I realize that it may seem frivolous when we have the option of Neelix’s cooking, but the fact is, we’re not in our first year of being lost in the Delta Quadrant, we’re almost into our sixth, and I don’t know if the crew can take this ongoing hardship after all we’ve been through. They say an army travels on its stomach? Well, I think that’s true of Starfleet as well.”

“Or at least, of Starfleet captains,” Seven noted dryly. Janeway made a face at her ,and the Borg seemed to relent. “Very well, I will talk with B’Elanna, and see if we can work on both sets of replicators at the same time.”

“I’m loath to interfere with my crew and their work, but I find I am far less tolerant of rationing now than I was the first time. Certainly, if I feel that way, I think the rest of the crew must as well.”

“The crew does seem somewhat more irritable on the whole,” Seven allowed quietly. “I think if Lt. James had not been killed in the runabout explosion, then there are several who would volunteer to do the job now.”

“I might be one of them,” Janeway grumbled, poking at her oatmeal without enthusiasm, and suddenly grinned at Seven’s startled look. “That doesn’t leave this room, Seven.”

“No, Captain,” Seven said obediently, eyeing her oddly.

Janeway forced herself to finish her breakfast before she went into the bedroom and dressed in a fresh uniform. She stopped briefly to kiss Seven who handed her the thermos, and fully armed for what remained of the day, the captain headed for the bridge.

Tom Paris leaped up as she entered Voyager’s command center, and she took the conn from him, placing the silvery cylinder on the shelf by her chair. A quick scan of the logs, and Tom’s report, updated her on what she had missed while she and Seven had been … indisposed. She lowered her head, feeling her face grow hot at the memory. On the other hand, she decided, I need these memories. If she couldn’t have the ones she had lost, then she and Seven would just have to make so many new remembrances, the old ones would never be missed by either of them.

With that thought warming her insides, she set to work, going over the supplies that were already on board, and calculating the time it would take to fill the remaining cargo holds. She did hope Seven and B’Elanna would be able to get the replicators up and running, not just for her sake, or the crew’s, but for Neelix who had moved beyond his role as a cook, and had become a security officer. Returning to the messhall full time seemed a step back for him, and she could see that, although he tried to maintain a cheerful front, he chafed under what to many considered a demotion.

She glanced up as Tuvok entered the bridge. Though he did not show it, the Vulcan was assuming some of the blame for Voyager’s current predicament. He felt that his security precautions regarding Lt. James had been inadequate, and Janeway’s long friendship with him allowed her to see through the impassiveness to know he was having a hard time. The problem was, she didn’t really know what she could do to bring him out of it. It wasn’t as if she could ‘cheer’ him up the same way she would a Human.

She wondered if he would enjoy having dinner in her quarters with her and Seven? She could not remember if he had ever been invited over before, or if such a thing would be appealing to him. She would have to ask Seven about it.

“The away team is hailing us, Captain,” Susan Nicoletti said from her position at ops. With Harry Kim down on the planet, the dark haired woman had taken over his duties.

“On screen,” Janeway said, looking toward the fore viewscreen.

The image of Chakotay appeared, his dark hair tousled from the wind, the view of an expanse of green meadow and a large forest behind him. Janeway thought that the man looked far more relaxed and comfortable in the natural setting than he ever did on the bridge. She wondered if he ever felt confined by Voyager, despite his inclination to go into space.

“Go ahead, Commander.”

“Captain, we’ve discovered some ruins. They’re concealed by the vegetation, and we missed them on our first scan, but they’re definitely ancient. I was wondering if you wanted to send a science and research team down since we still have a week before we finish our primary mission.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “For what reason? Do you think they’re Tikanniti remains?”

“No, our tricorder readings indicate they’re far older, a few thousand years. I just thought that it’s been a while since the archaeology team had anything to play with, this would be ideal.”

“You have a point,” she allowed, smiling faintly.

One of the hardest things for her people on Voyager to bear was the inability to exploit their skills and talents to the utmost. Those who entered Starfleet through astrophysics were in heaven as they traversed a quadrant no scientist from the Federation had ever been, but those in other fields, such as alien archeology, were rarely able to pursue their studies, constrained by both time and opportunity. A week for them to explore this pile of rubble would be like a vacation, though she knew she would have to pry them out of the area with a tractor beam afterward.

“That’s a good idea, Chakotay,” she decided. “I’ll send down a team.”

He nodded and cut the channel, the screen altering to display the brown and green planet they were orbiting. Janeway contacted the science department, seeking out the head of alien archaeology, Dr. William Jamison. He was an older lieutenant, bearded with brown eyes and a receding hairline. As expected, he leaped at the chance to do a little planetside digging, though the captain hesitated briefly when he requested that Seven of Nine accompany them because of the Borg’s knowledge of the species in this area. Dr. Jamison indicated that her Collective memories might have information pertaining to the ruins which would help in their investigation, saving a great deal of time which they obviously did not have. Despite the fact it would take Seven away from her for a few days, Janeway found that she had to agree to the request.

Sometimes, the well being of her crew came first, no matter how much it inconvenienced her.

She was not surprised when Seven contacted her in the ready room some time later to confirm her orders. “I’m sorry, Seven,” she told her over the computer console on her desk. “They feel your input would be invaluable on this away mission, and I have to agree with them. There’s no one else I can send.”

“Very well,” Seven said with little enthusiasm. “I will comply.”

Janeway smiled faintly. “It won’t be for long, darling. Just know that I love you and will be thinking about you the entire time.”

Seven dipped her head and glanced sideways, which meant she wasn’t alone. Janeway hoped that whoever was in the astrometrics lab with Seven had not heard her, not because she was embarrassed by what she felt for her partner or even that it might show a softer, gentler side of her to her crew, but because those words were meant for Seven’s ears alone, a personal, private endearment.

Seven looked back at her, the Borg’s pale eyes warming perceptively. “I will, as well.”

The communication ended, and Janeway rested her elbows on her desk, linking her fingers before her as she stared thoughtfully at the screen where her partner’s image had been. She was amazed at how dismayed she felt at the prospect of spending the next few nights alone. A rather immature feeling, she thought, and one that was hardly practical in the situation she and Seven were in, both highly placed members of a crew on a starship trying to survive in the Delta Quadrant.

But still, she was going to miss Seven, and would no doubt count the minutes until her return.

Seven of Nine examined the relic Ensign Wildman offered her. It was of a deep jade material, hard, dense, with decorative markings on it that were worn to an almost imperceptible level. She searched her memories, tapping into the vast stores of knowledge her time with the Borg Collective afforded her.

“Does it help?” Samantha was a sturdy blond woman with level eyes, and a winning smile. Seven rarely interacted with her, knowing her a little better than others in the crew only because she was Naomi’s mother … and the fact that Jake had chewed up her boots.

“It does not,” Seven said finally, and managed not to sigh. “Nothing the team has uncovered has indicated any species that the Borg is familiar with.”

“Well, maybe the next artifact,” Samantha said philosophically. The woman looked over the dusty, cleared area where the rest of Voyager’s team was working. “In any event, this is a phenomenal find. This species was remarkably civilized, but the indication is that they died out suddenly. It could have been any number of things that destroyed them.”

“It was not the Borg.”

Samantha looked at her strangely, then smiled. “I think these ruins predate the Borg, but it is interesting that of all the species the Borg has assimilated in this quadrant, none have any recollection of this one.”

“If they died out before achieving space travel, there is no reason to know of them,” Seven pointed out.

“True.” Samantha regarded Seven for a few more minutes out of the corner of her eyes, obviously ill at ease but not leaving to return to her duties. “Naomi seems a lot more cheerful since you and the captain arranged for her and Jake to get together on a regular basis,” she offered finally. Seven realized that Wildman was as uncomfortable with her as the Borg was with the science officer. This was ‘small talk’ she knew.

“I regret that she was upset at any time. That was never my intention when I asked Neelix to take care of Jake.”

“Kids and dogs just manage to find each other.” Samanth paused, concentrating on the dig. “Seven, I wanted to tell you,” she added in a quieter voice. “I was a trifle … apprehensive when you and Naomi began your relationship, but you’ve been very good for her. It’s hard for a little girl to grow up on a ship where she’s the only child. I wanted to thank you for your kindness.”

Seven considered this. “It was not a ‘kindness’ on my part. I like Naomi. She is very intelligent, and I comprehend her … ‘loneliness’. “

Wildman glanced at her. “I suppose you do,” she said in an oddly gentle voice. “Do you and the captain intend to … ” She stopped, flustered. “I’m sorry, that was presumptuous.”

Seven blinked. “What is?”

Samantha studied her boots. “I was wondering if you and the captain were intending to have children yourselves, sometime in the future, of course.”

Seven looked at her. “We have discussed it.” She hesitated. “However, that was before her injury. I do not believe she remembers the conversations. I do wish to have children one day.”

Samantha smiled. “Well, if your relationship with Naomi is any indication, you’ll make a fine mother.”

Seven was pleased at the assessment. Since Ensign Wildman was the only mother she knew, her opinion somehow carried more weight in that area, even more than Kathryn’s.

There was a chirp on her comm badge and she touched it, activating the channel. “Go ahead.”

“Chakotay here. We’re finishing up the final supply shipments, Seven. You might want to begin shutting down the dig.”

“Understood, Commander. We will contact you when it is time for us to beam up.” She glanced at Samantha, surprised when the woman grinned at her. “Is something amusing, Ensign?”

Wildman swallowed her grin. “I’m just interested in seeing how you’ll get the team off the dig. Somehow, I’m not surprised that Chakotay handed that job to you.”

Seven did not understand. At least not then. Several hours later, after arguing futilely with the lead archaeologist, she understood a great deal better. At first, they had flatly refused to leave at all. Then, she finally managed to get them down to a month which she agreed to ask the captain about, though she knew Janeway would be completely opposed to it.

Still wondering how she had been talked into such a ridiculous request, Seven keyed her comm badge. “Seven to Voyager.”

“Go ahead,” Chakotay answered immediately. Seven realized uneasily that his team must have already beamed back on board long ago.

“I need to speak with the captain.”

“I’m here, Seven,” the beloved voice responded. “What is it?”

“The archaeology team has requested an additional month for their research,” Seven said reluctantly. She wondered if Janeway would be angry. Instead, the captain’s voice was laden with amusement.

“Only a month? I am impressed, Seven,” Janeway said. “I was expecting at least a year. Tell Dr. Jamison that he and his team have one hour to pick up the stuff they simply can’t leave behind, then I’m beaming up everyone the ship can detect.”

Seven got the idea that there was something going on here that she was unaware of. “I will comply,” she agreed with a certain amount of disgruntlement.

She conveyed the message to the team leader, and after a limited amount of blustering and a rather offensive reference to the captain’s lack of intelligence and appreciation for the importance of scientific discovery, he and his team did as they were told. In exactly one hour, Seven felt herself dematerialize in a burst of sparkles before the confines of transporter room two appeared before her. She left the archaeological team behind with a definite sense of relief as they argued happily over their assorted boxes and containers that would hopefully keep them occupied for months. Returning to the Astrometrics lab, she filled out her mission report in more familiar surroundings, hoping she would not be required to pull away mission duty again in the near future.

It was a difficult report to write, and she found herself changing it several times, adding things here and there, removing others that at first she found relevant but later seemed unimportant. Finally, she filed it, logged formally off duty, and headed for her quarters, realizing only as she entered how late it was. Jake did not even rise from his position on the couch, though he did lift his head and wag his tail briefly. She made him get down and go to his doggy bed, which he did with every indication of disbelief and outrage. It was a futile gesture on her part since she knew that he would be immediately back on the couch as soon as she went to bed.

She paused for a moment in the doorway leading to the bedroom, looking at the huddled form of the captain who was curled up on her side of the bed. Seven drank in the way the auburn hair fell softly about the elegant cheek, the delicate shadows of the eyelashes against the porcelain skin. Seven remembered how it had been just after Janeway’s injury, when she had been sleeping on the couch, when everything seemed so wrong and she had felt so helpless. She would return to their quarters late and stand here, watching the captain sleep, feeling an ache inside her that she thought she would never be able to survive.

“Are you going to stand there all night, or are you coming to bed?” Startled, Seven felt her heart catch.

“I did not know you were awake.” She sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at Janeway who stretched and rolled onto her back, blinking sleepily. Seven’s enhanced night vision allowed her to see Janeway quite clearly in the lowered illumination. She did not think the captain could see her at all, yet those blue-grey eyes were fastened directly on the Borg’s face. “Can you see me?”

Janeway smiled lazily as the computer, on hearing the audible conversation in the room, automatically brought the lights up to a comfortable setting for human visibility, not too bright, like a single, low wattage lamp. “I don’t need to see you. I always know when you’re around. You used to stand there and look at me just after I was hurt.”

Seven took a deep breath. “I did not realize. You were awake every time?”

“Maybe not every time, but certainly enough to know you were watching over me.” Janeway reached up and ran her knuckles along Seven’s cheek. “It was a rough time for both of us, darling, but it made me feel warm and safe knowing you were there.”

“If I had known …” Seven trailed off uncertainly.

Janeway smiled crookedly. “You would have joined me? Or would you have stopped watching me?”

Seven considered it. “I think, the latter.”

“So now you know why I never let on I was awake,” Janeway said dryly.

Seven did not know what to say, or for that matter what to feel exactly. That time had been so difficult for her, as if it would never end, that there was nothing beyond the confusion and pain she had felt. She bent her head and felt Kathryn’s hand reach around her neck, squeezing gently.

“Come to bed, love,” the captain requested softly. “It’s been a long day.”

Seven stood up and went into the ensuite, taking time to shower quickly to rid herself of any lingering remains of the dig, then brushed out her hair and cleaned her teeth. When she returned to the bedroom, the lights had once more lowered, leaving only the faint glow of starlight coming in through the window at the head of the bed as she slipped between the sheets, carefully wrapping herself around the recumbent form.

It was warm here, the captain’s body heat a welcome change from the cold sleeping bag Seven had been using the past few nights in a solitary habitat on the planet’s surface. She snuggled against Janeway’s back, delighting in how the smooth skin and spine felt against her breasts and abdomen, the way the soft buttocks fit snugly into her groin.

Janeway stirred briefly and found Seven’s hand, bringing it up to her breast so that the palm rested warmly over it. But she went no further, and the nipple did not respond beneath Seven’s light touch so the young woman knew it had been an entirely unconscious gesture on the captain’s part. Janeway had fallen asleep while Seven had been in the bathroom.

Seven smiled briefly as she buried her face in the auburn hair, tucking her knees up under Kathryn’s, spooning against her in one of her most favorite positions. Finally, she allowed herself to follow her partner into slumber, knowing that tomorrow was another day.

And that she was finally home.

Janeway woke sometime in the night, feeling the warmth of her lover surrounding her, the delicate pressure of Seven’s palm on her breast. Her nipple hardened, and she pushed into the grasp that tightened automatically around it, squeezing gently. She sighed softly and snuggled back, pleased that Seven was home. It had been a difficult week for the captain, and she had found the cold and lonely expanse of sheets every time she went to bed almost unbearable. To wake up like this, wrapped up in loving arms, the soft breath on the back of her neck, was pure and absolute heaven.

“Mmm, darling, are you awake?” she whispered, reaching her hand back to stroke the younger woman’s hip.

“I am,” Seven replied softly, her lips nuzzling Janeway’s neck, finding her ear that she nibbled gently. She rasped her palm gently back and forth, stimulating the nipple that ached with acute sensitivity.

Janeway caught her breath, feeling Seven’s hand roam from breast to breast, gently rolling the points between her forefinger and thumb. Seven’s lips sought her out in the dark, the captain turning her head so that Seven could kiss her, gently, deeply; warm moist kisses that moved over her mouth with sweet intensity, and she reached back with her hand to touch the young woman’s cheek.

“Have I ever told you how much I love waking up in your arms?” Janeway murmured, her head falling forward as Seven went back to mouthing the back of her neck, along the line of her shoulders before running up the line of throat to her earlobe. Janeway loved the sound of her lover’s deep breathing whispering into her ear. “Even when we weren’t making love, it was so good to be able to reach out and feel your body next to mine.”

Seven’s caresses slowed, gentled, became almost lazy as her hand explored Janeway’s body, slipping down to the abdomen, stroking gently over her belly before sliding back up to renew its devotion to the captain’s breasts. She seemed to sense that Janeway needed tenderness rather than passion this night, and the captain wondered how a Borg, without any emotional context growing up in the Collective, had ever evolved into such a sensitive and considerate lover. In fact, that was the thing Janeway thought she liked most about Seven’s lovemaking. The incredible gentleness that communicated itself in every encounter, no matter how passionate they became.

She reached up and linked her fingers with Seven’s left hand that was resting by the captain’s face, the Borg’s arm supporting the captain’s head, and Janeway squeezed the mesh lightly.

“I missed you,” she whispered. “It seemed like you would never return to me.”

Seven ran her tongue over the captain’s ear, and Janeway inhaled sharply at the delicate touch. “I shall always return to you.” A promise uttered with such conviction, it might as well be set in stone.

Seven ran her hand down Janeway’s stomach, teasing the navel with light fingertips, stopping as the captain squirmed under her touch, apparently knowing that her lover was ticklish there, and how much she could take before the mood was broken. Swallowing hard as the fingers danced lower, tangling briefly in the thatch of auburn, Janeway pushed her buttocks back into Seven’s groin, clutching at her hand spastically.

“Easy, Kathryn,” Seven said softly, waiting until Janeway had relaxed a little. “There is no hurry.”

“Try lying here and saying that,” Janeway responded, laughter threading her voice. She sensed rather than actually felt Seven’s brief smile against her cheek.

Seven’s hand drifted lower, over the tops of the captain’s thighs, then pressed between, parting them gently, raising her leg up so that it was almost at right angles. Janeway’s heart pounded in her chest as the fingertips moved lightly over the inside of her thigh, and she moaned deep in her chest, feeling the warm touch slide easily along her tender labia, slipping into the moisture welling from her center. She gasped as Seven found the sensitive nodule, and slowly fondled it, sending chills through Janeway’s loins and lower abdomen.

“Oh god, Annika,” Janeway breathed as Seven kissed her jaw, her throat, the long lanky warmth of that tall body pressing against her back. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, Kathryn,” Seven whispered huskily. “Always and forever.”

“Oh … darling,” Janeway began, then bit off a cry as she felt the long fingers penetrate her, sliding deep inside, a gentle probe of pleasure and desire. “Oh … Annika … god … “

She fought for breath, her hips moving softly against the hand giving her such delight, clasping tight around the gently stroking digits while Seven’s palm rubbed back and forth over the sensitive nubbin, pressing against it. Seven’s hips moved with hers with easy rhythm, cradling her from behind, and she moaned into the night as the Borg’s long fingers found the spot inside Janeway that cast all coherent thought out of the captain’s head, sending her into a gentle spasm that left her fulfilled and completely relaxed.

She sighed and settled back against the mattress, reaching down to cover Seven’s hand with her own, keeping the Borg’s fingers inside her for long moments just so she could enjoy the sensation. Seven remained quiet, kissing her without demand, allowing Janeway to simply experience the afterglow, the sense of peace and love that surrounded her.

“Mmm, my darling,” she said finally, releasing her hold so that Seven’s fingers could withdraw slowly. She captured them in her own hand and brought them up to her face, kissing the tips gently, tasting the musky flavor of herself that was far more piquant than Seven’s. “You are simply amazing.”

“You inspire me.”

Janeway smiled. “I am certainly glad of that.” Her voice was a husky purr of satisfaction as Seven’s body curled around hers was like a blessing, a comforting shield against the cold universe. “I would hate to think anyone else would.”

“No one could,” Seven replied sincerely.

“You are the most incredible lover of all time.”

“I believe,” Seven said dryly at this point. “That you exaggerate greatly.”

“Perhaps,” Janeway told her with a laugh, rolling over so that she could lie on her back, looking up at Seven though she was unable to see much in the low light. “But not by much.” She found her partner’s mouth, kissing her gently but with passion, feeling Seven’s tongue move against her own sweetly. “Tell me what you want, love,” she said softly when they had parted. “How can I pleasure you tonight, my darling?”

“Will you scratch my back?”

Surprised, Janeway drew back, staring at her in the darkness, barely able to make out the lighter area which was Seven’s face, let alone recognize any expression that might be on it. “Scratch your back?” she echoed in disbelief. She felt Seven’s flinch and she suddenly felt bad, hugging Seven closer in mute apology. “Scratch your back?” she repeated, altering the tone to a gentler one of inquiry.

“It has been so long since you have done that,” Seven said in a soft, uncertain voice. “Sometimes that is all I want.”

“My love, if that’s what you want, I’ll scratch your back until morning,” Janeway said promptly.

“I do not think it will take so long,” Seven corrected in a relieved sort of tone. Her arms tightened around Janeway as she kissed her. “I do love you,” she added intently. “I am just not…”

“Shh,” Janeway said, placing her fingertips against the full lips. “I know, sometimes you just need different things at different times. Thank you for making love to me, darling. I didn’t even think to ask if you were in the mood.”

“I am always ‘in the mood’ to make love to you, Kathryn,” Seven said somberly. “Please, never doubt that. But I do not always require that you make love to me.” She hesitated again and Janeway knew she was having difficulty presenting her thoughts. “This does not mean that I do not want you …”

The captain kissed her sweetly. “I understand, darling. It’s alright. Sometimes I want different things too, but please, even if I seem uninterested, tell me if you ever want me to make love to you. I need to know so that we can at least discuss it.”

“You do?” Seven sounded surprised.

Janeway sighed regretfully. “Have I given the impression otherwise, darling? Annika, we’re partners. We’re there for each other. In fact, I want you to know how much it means to me that you trust me enough to be honest with me tonight.”

Seven was quiet for a long time. “I feel like I can now,” she admitted finally. “I was never … dishonest with you before, but sometimes I did not always feel like you wanted to hear what I needed.”

Janeway hugged her. “Darling, I can’t say what I was thinking before I lost my memories. Yet, I have to believe I always wanted to know what you needed. Maybe I just didn’t get that across to you. I fear communication has not always been my best asset.”

“I should have told you what I needed,” Seven said unhappily.

Janeway sighed. “Darling, there’s no question we made mistakes the first time around. We’ll probably make a set of all new ones this time around. Let’s just be happy we have this second chance at love, and remember we can always talk to each other about everything.”

“I will try,” Seven said gravely.

Janeway smiled and nuzzled her. “Now, why don’t you lay on your belly,” she murmured. “I’ll give you a fully guaranteed, 100 percent authentic Starfleet-issued back scratch, provided by a starship captain, no less. Not just anyone is entitled to one of those, you know.”

Janeway could sense the wonderful rare smile radiate from the young woman, and obediently Seven rolled over onto her stomach. Janeway got up and straddled her hips, giving her full attention to the young woman as she scratched the long sinuous back, alternating with smooth, strong strokes along the spine and sides and short, brisk ones over the shoulders, making sure she discovered every spot that required it. Seven squirmed luxuriously beneath her, soft, happy sounds of delight issuing from her lips.

“You really do enjoy this, don’t you?” Janeway murmured softly, smiling.

“It feels so good,” Seven responded, voice muffled in the pillow. “It is not something you could do when I still had my implant. When it was temporarily restored, I believe I missed this more than anything else. We could still make love, but you could not scratch through the mesh with any success.”

Janeway leaned down and kissed Seven’s ear lovingly. “Then I’m glad I can do it for you, now. Any time you want, darling.”

Eventually, she lessened the pressure on her nails, changing the scratching to a gentle massage that soothed the Borg into sleep. Smiling fondly, she kissed the young woman on the shoulder blade, then snuggled against her lover’s back and followed her into slumber.

Seven woke before Janeway, and with a joyful sort of stealthiness, she slipped from the bed and pulled on her robe, tiptoing into the outer quarters. She fed Jake, then made up a tray of all of Kathryn’s favorite breakfast items, recklessly spending her replicator rations in one shot. She took the tray into the bedroom, and placed it on the night stand before leaning down to kiss Kathryn gently on the mouth.

The captain stirred, opening her eyes sleepily. She smiled as she saw her partner bent over her. “Good morning,” she said with a languid smile.

“Good morning,” Seven responded. “I made you ‘breakfast in bed’.”

Kathryn got that soft look, the one Seven so adored, of shy pleasure showing she was genuinely touched. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.”

As the captain sat up, piling the pillows at the head of the bed so she could recline against them, Seven picked up the tray and placed it on her partner’s lap. Janeway removed the lids, looking at the feast with surprise, then looked at Seven. The Borg prepared herself to be scolded for spending her rations so carelessly, but Kathryn only smiled tremulously.

“Thank you darling,” she said softly. “This is wonderful.”

Vastly pleased with herself, Seven removed her robe, and slipped between the sheets once more, curling up beside Janeway to watch her eat. Kathryn kept feeding her bites before she finally insisted she go out with the captain’s rations for another breakfast so that they could both enjoy a full meal, though it meant they would be at the mercy of Neelix’s cooking for the rest of the day.

“You must tell me, darling,” Janeway said as she chewed reflectively on her toast. “What did you say to Dr. Jamison to get him down to only wanting to stay a month?”

“I merely presented the logistics of them staying behind in a reasonable manner. That not only would they probably perish, there was no way any of their results would be published.”

“Ah, the publishing card,” Janeway mumbled. “Don’t think many have tried that.”

Seven eyed her a moment. “You are being facetious.” She shook her head. “You expected him to be difficult, as did Commander Chakotay. I do not understand.”

“Different people are passionate about different things,” Janeway explained. “Jamison is an alien archeologist trapped on a ship that has little time to research alien sites. Granting him a week was hardly enough time for him to really get into a dig. Everyone who knows him guessed that he would not be willing to leave it easily.” The captain smiled at her and patted her arm. “You handled it very well, Seven. I’m proud of you.”

“It was only an away mission,” Seven said. “I still do not see why he was so adamant about not leaving.”

“Imagine if it were me, and you had only one week to spend with me before you had to leave me behind, never to see me again. That’s how Jamison feels about his dig.”

Seven stared at her, trying to absorb that concept. “That is not an accurate comparison.”

“No?” Janeway grinned at her lazily, sipping at her orange juice.

“Nothing and no one would have been capable of making me leave you behind.”

Janeway leaned forward, and kissed her gently. “Then, I guess you love me more than he does his career.”

“Yes,” Seven agreed readily.

Janeway chuckled throatily, and finished the last bites of her omelet. “By the way, darling, I was looking for something while you were gone, and couldn’t find it. Do you know where the necklace is that Daddy gave me? It’s a small gold chain with a red stone on it.”

Seven felt her heart give a painful thump, and then sank deep within her, all the happiness she had been feeling only seconds before disappearing without a trace. Her blueberry waffle was suddenly as tasteless as cardboard in her mouth, and she dropped her fork onto the plate, shoving the tray aside without appetite. She bent her head, staring at the bedding.

“You gave the necklace to me as a gift.”

Janeway looked surprised, but not unpleasantly so. “I guess that’s another thing I forgot. Where is it?”

“It is gone.” This next was the hardest part. The first time she had to tell Kathryn that she had lost the necklace, the captain had gone very quiet for a very long time. Seven still remembered the starkness she saw in the blue-grey eyes as if it were yesterday, the terrible disappointment in her partner. Seven had hoped she would never have to feel that way again, but here she was, forced to repeat the same story. “I was wearing it when I was assimilated the second time.” She felt empty, lost. “I … discarded it as being irrelevant when I became One of Many. It was destroyed when the cube was.”

There was a silence, and Seven did not look up. She did not want to see that look in her partner’s eyes again. It hurt too much.

“It was only a chain, Annika,” Janeway said finally.

Seven shook her head. “No, it was a gift from your father to you,” she said in a choked voice. “It was the first thing you ever gave me. I am so sorry I lost it, Kathryn. It was unforgivable.” She blinked hard against the tears stinging her eyes.

“Hey,” Janeway said, putting both trays on the floor and reaching out to place a finger beneath Seven’s chin, raising her head up. “Darling, I’m sorry it’s gone, but it’s not the end of the world. Why are you so upset?”

Unwillingly, Seven raised her eyes to meet Kathryn’s, seeing only love and concern for her in them, and she was unable to hold back the tears she had not shed the first time, the knowledge that she had disappointed Kathryn, had lost something so precious to them both, a tearing pain inside.

“I am sorry,” she sobbed.

Janeway gathered her up in her arms, rocking her gently. “Oh, my love, it’s all right. Annika, it’s just a necklace. Please, don’t cry.”

But Seven was unable to comply, unable to stop the weeping that she had been holding back for so long. Janeway gave up trying to say anything to comfort her. She simply held her tightly, rubbing her back and nuzzling her lovingly. Finally, Seven was able to catch her breath, face buried in the warm hollow of Janeway’s shoulder.

“You’ve been keeping that in for a long time,” Janeway guessed softly after a while. “I don’t think it’s entirely about the necklace, either.”

Seven merely gulped and shook her head. Janeway kissed her forehead gently, then brought her face up so that the young woman was looking into her eyes.

“Darling, if I ever made you feel like that piece of jewelry meant more to me than you did, then I’m the one who should be apologizing,” she said sincerely. “Annika, I can lose everything I have, my command, my ship, the uniform off my back. As long as I have you, I have the entire universe. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Seven hugged her. “I shall not.” She paused, swallowing hard. “Thank you.”

“Shh, don’t thank me for loving you. That’s something I’m privileged to do.” She kissed Seven gently. “I’m sorry, darling. I find myself discovering so many good times when I look to the past with you, but sometimes there are unfortunate situations I shouldn’t put you through again. Maybe I should stop trying to dig out memories that are no longer relevant.”

“No,” Seven responded strongly. “You must do what you have to while adapting to the consequences of your injuries, Kathryn. I love you, and I want to share it all with you, no matter how difficult the various memories might be.”

“They couldn’t have been that bad. Not if you were part of them.” She studied Seven’s face for a long time, then grinned crookedly. “Now I’m a little afraid to ask you about what I did find while I was looking for the necklace.”

Seven blinked, confused. “What?”

A strange look came over her face and she leaned over and opened a compartment in the nightstand, bringing out a plain brown, rectangular box. Seven felt an odd sensation inside as the captain opened it up to display the contents cradled in velvet.

“Do you recognize this?” Janeway asked in a even tone, carefully devoid of expression.

Seven swallowed hard. “It is an ‘accessory’.”

“I see.” Janeway regarded Seven closely. “Do we … use it often?”

“We have never used it,” Seven explained. “We were going to experiment with it, but … you were injured before we had the opportunity.”

“Oh.” Janeway’s lips twitched as she glanced at it, then at Seven, then back at the realistic looking ‘toy’ lying in the box. “It’s rather large.”

“It can be fully adjusted.” Seven reached for it. “It is called the ‘Wonder Wand 9000’ and comes with a remote access. Its size can be increased or decreased, according to preference.”

Holding it up as she would a club, she found the small remote control that fit snugly in her hand, making the proper alterations. The greyish phallus immediately shrank from the formidable seventy-five centemeter dimensions to a more modest eight centemeters, not only decreasing in length, but in girth. Seven presented the much reduced apparatus to Janeway who accepted it gingerly, dangling it between her forefinger and thumb, examining it with a keen eye from all angles.

“That’s nifty,” Janeway remarked in that same odd tone. “How does it work?”

Seven blinked. “You do not know?” she asked with a certain amount of disbelief. “It is intended to mimic humanoid male genitalia.”

“That much I understand.” Janeway took a closer look. “I meant, how does one … uh, wear it?”

“That end attaches to the person assuming the ‘male’ position.”

She took it from the captain and parted her legs, stretching out on the bed as she pressed the flat part of the accessory against the juncture of her thighs. An orifice opened, surrounded her protruding if somewhat limited ridge of flesh with a solid suction, while tendrils extended from the base of the phallus to surround her hips and legs, securing it firmly to her. Sensors inside began transmitting messages to the little nubbin, as if it were now an extension of her own body, giving Seven the appearance of boasting a fairly realistic representation of male genitalia in an aroused, if somewhat unimpressive state.

“It is structured to stimulate my nerve endings where it is attached,” Seven added, leaning back on both elbows so that her groin was now in clear view. “I understand it is supposed to provide the wielder with as much pleasure as the one who it is used on.”

“Probably more, I’d say,” Janeway said in a choked sort of tone, staring at Seven’s loins as she chewed on her bottom lip. “Which should not surprise me. What else?”

“It vibrates,” Seven said proudly. “As well as change color while displaying a variety of patterns. The ‘tiger-striped’ orange and black is particularly attractive, but I prefer the blue which glows in the dark.” She touched the controls, demonstrating the function.

Janeway raised those eyes to Seven’s, her lips a thin white line against a face growing dark with suppressed emotion. Uncomprehendingly, Seven stared back, starting abruptly when the captain suddenly burst into screaming fits of laughter, rolling about the bed, absolutely helpless as she held onto her ribs with her arms. Tears rolled down her cheeks and mucus ran from her nose as she gasped and choked and gurgled, unable to look directly at her partner for more than a few seconds before the mirth would take control of her again.

Seven thought Janeway was not adopting the proper attitude toward the situation at all.

The Borg regarded the electric-blue phallus thrusting up from her groin with a bit of sadness. Did this mean she would never get the chance to use it? Even it seemed to droop a little in disappointment, developing a decided list to starboard.

“Oh god,” Janeway begged between her howls of merriment. “Take it off.”

Disgruntled, Seven pressed the proper controls on the remote, the tendrils obediently withdrawing as the the construct released itself from its grip on her. She placed the whole apparatus back in the box, shut it, and then sat cross-legged as she regarded her partner with forced patience, waiting for her to stop laughing.

It took some time.

“Am I to infer that you are not interested in experimentation?” she said coolly, when Janeway had finally subsided, lying weakly on her side, gasping for breath.

Janeway snorted, but managed to contain herself with obvious effort. “No, that’s not it at all, but Annika, you have to accept that there is a certain inherent humor in things like this.”

“I was unaware you would find such a thing humorous. Originally you seemed concerned that it would hurt me.”

“That’s probably before I knew you could change the size,” Janeway said. “Or for that matter, the color.” She started to laugh again, and Seven sighed. She raised an eyebrow as the captain eventually rose to her knees and crossed the bed, wrapping her arms around the Borg’s neck, and pressing against her. “Be sure to let me handle those settings from now on, all right?”

“Very well, but I will be unable to perform with any adeptness if you insist on laughing every time I put it on.”

Janeway swallowed hard, eyes bright. “Sweetheart, I promise to restrain myself if you ever want to use it,” she said with a sincerity that Seven thought was highly suspect.

She did not have time to argue the issue further, because Kathryn started kissing her quite thoroughly, her hands doing incredible things that made Seven forget all about toys or accessories or anything else for that matter. The box fell to the floor as they made love, the lid falling open as the accesory fell out onto the carpet. Neither of them noticed its abscence.

Until much later when they found Jake chewing placidly on it in the living area. Seven was concerned that it would no longer work with the array of distinct toothmarks imbedded all over it.

Janeway was laughing much too hard to offer her opinion.

Epilogue

Janeway strolled onto the bridge, noting that Tuvok had already arrived for his shift, and made a detour to his tactical station. “Tuvok.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Captain?”

“Are you doing anything this evening?”

“No, Captain,” he responded evenly.

“Come by for dinner tonight. Seven’s going to try for plomeek soup. If you dare, of course.”

He raised an eyebrow. “It could not be worse than the attempts made by Mr. Neelix. I shall be happy to attend, Captain.”

“1900 hours.” She favored him with a smile, and strode down to her command chair. Chakotay looked at her curiously as she sat down.

“You seem unusually cheerful this morning.”

“I had a very good off day,” she responded evenly, managing to keep her lips from twitching. She glanced at him. “Seven assures me that the food replicators are being brought back to full function. We can up the ration slips to ten a day, and hopefully, in another week, we’ll have unlimited access once more.”

He grinned. “That is good news.”

She nodded. “We’re fortunate that we had so many spare replicator components. I must make a note to commend both you and B’Elanna for choosing to be generous with those parts to the exclusion of others when you were stocking the Mississippi prior to your return from the Alpha Quadrant.”

“We just figured that a lot of things in life are a great deal more tolerable when your belly is full. I learned that in the Maquis.”

“It applies equally well in Starfleet.” She leaned back in her chair. “I have to admit, I’ll be glad to put the last of this whole affair behind us.”

He nodded. “It was a tough couple of months.” He paused, glanced around at the bridge that was functioning with quiet efficiency and lowered his voice. “I know you and Seven were having a bit of a rough time there. How are things?”

She glanced at him in surprise, not only because he was asking while they were on duty, but that he would be interested at all. “Things are going very well with us.” She hesitated and then added, just to be polite, of course. “I understand you and B’Elanna are having problems?”

He shook his head, sighing a bit. “She really has to learn to control her temper. It caused a lot of trouble this time.”

Janeway regarded the back of Tom Paris’s head idly. “It seems to me, that it was Lt. James who caused the problems. B’Elanna was being who she always was. Perhaps you should re-evaluate what it was that attracted you to her in the first place. In the meantime, I’ll be in my ready room,” She gathered up her thermos and favored him with an impertinent eyebrow.

He looked thoughtful as she left him and went into her ready room. As she poured herself a cup of coffee, she assured herself that he had started the conversation. That what she had said could, in no way, be considered ‘interfering’ in any manner. He had simply asked for her opinion on his love life and she had given it. End of story.

He had asked for her opinion, hadn’t he?

Smiling, she sat down at her desk and called up her departmental reports, feeling an unmistakable sensation in her bones that the ship was starting to assume a more comfortable rhythm, that the events of the last month or so had finally dissipated. Granted, deep wounds had been inflicted, yes, but they were now healing as the entity that was Voyager and her crew slowly returned to normal.

With Seven at her side, whatever lay ahead would be completely manageable, which was really, all she could ask for out here in the Delta Quadrant.

The End

Back to Season Two

On to Just Between Species

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Epilogue