This is the 13th in the Just Between series. I have no idea how many more will show up in this series but honestly, I don’t see any end in the foreseeable future. Thanks to all my readers for their thoughtful comments, feedback and encouragement. Not to mention their titles. ; )

This story was written and posted around the last of January, 1999. After Nothing Human.

Just Between Dreams

G. L. Dartt

The rock face was rough against her back, jabbing through the layers of sweater and tunic as beneath her feet, the ledge barely supported her. A wind, chill and damp, whipped through her like the sharp edge of a knife, penetrating her body, and weakening her desperate grip on the precarious handholds. She took a breath and tried to press closer to the cliff side as she looked up, blinking against the icy rain that drove into her upturned face.

The cliff rose perpendicular to her, disappearing into the grey mists of cloud looming above that flashed with hidden lightning. A glance down saw sheer rock plunge to unseen depths glowing with an eerie crimson tinge. Directly across from her, too far to jump, there was another ledge, and a wooden door, framed by stone carvings, alien and unrecognizable. She knew she had to make it over there, knew she had to go through the door somehow, though the reason why was an absolute mystery to her.

There was the sound of moving rock and she looked down, horrified to see the ledge beginning to crumble beneath her. Pebbles and fragments dropped off, disappearing into the glowing depths without any sound to indicate they ever landed. Her footing started to give and she scrabbled helplessly against the unforgiving stone, splintering her nails on the granite, crying out as she began to fall.

Spiraling down to a horror that seemed far worse than death.

Captain Kathryn Janeway woke abruptly, heart racing as the sweat suddenly dried on her body, chilling her as she rose onto her elbows, staring blankly into the night. She swallowed hard, trying to understand where she was as she listened breathlessly to the sounds around her. The steady hum of her ship’s warp drive, the whisper of the air recycle system, the soft respiration of the body lying in the bed next to her, all combined to cause the pounding of her pulse to gradually slow. Looking over at her peacefully sleeping companion, she sought out the beloved features of her partner in the shadowed illumination of the night watch lights lining the window that loomed over the head of the bed.

Seven of Nine, late of the Borg Collective, was a imposing young woman with blonde hair and eyes the color of bluish ice. Formidable when she was at her full six foot height, she seemed somewhat more innocent and childlike while lost in slumber. A metallic grey implant framed her left eye, and a small starburst adorned her right cheek, stark reminders of her time as a drone. She was laying on her back, her face turned slightly away from Janeway, her right hand laying palm up by her head, elbow at right angles to her body while her left hand, covered in a mechanical mesh, rested on top of the blankets, across her abdomen. Her lean, lanky body sprawled the length of the bed, taking up a good portion of the mattress.

Janeway had read somewhere that this was called the ‘royal’ position, that the person who slept in such a way was strong and unafraid, with a sense of self assurance bordering on the arrogant … as a king or queen might, hence the name. That described her partner quite well, though it left out the gentle and loving nature or the warm heart that lay beneath the cool exterior.

The captain wondered why Seven had not woke when she had, especially when she considered that the Borg’s enhanced senses tended to alert the young woman to the slightest unusual sound. Then the captain realized that her nightmares had become such a regular occurrence over the last little while, happening with such frequency, that Seven had apparently adapted to Janeway’s nocturnal struggles and now slept through them. Sighing soundlessly, Janeway moved closer and lay her head down carefully on the young woman’s shoulder, snuggling lightly against the warm body. She didn’t know if she should feel gratified or guilty when Seven suddenly stirred, gathering her in as she slid her left arm beneath the captain’s torso and turning her head to rest her cheek on top of the captain’s auburn hair. Janeway hadn’t meant to disturb her partner but she could not deny that the embrace was a soothing source of comfort, making it easier to push the nightmare away.

She huddled against Seven, pressing her face into the soft hollow of the young woman’s neck, smelling the Borg’s delightful fragrance while she rested her hand on the smooth slope of her chest. Janeway slipped her leg across the younger woman’s groin, feeling the tickle of the thin thatch of blonde hair against her inner thigh as she brushed over it. Seven’s body heat was like a fire in a hearth, welcoming her in from a winter’s night, chasing away the chill and loneliness, surrounding her with a sense of home and belonging.

“Kathryn?” Seven murmured softly.

“Mmm, bad dream,” Janeway whispered back, not wanting to go into it. “Sorry I woke you.”

“S’ right.” The captain knew the young woman must be drowsy indeed to be speaking in such a slurred manner; totally unlike her normal, crisp, defined tones where each word was precisely enunciated.

Janeway closed her eyes and tried to reclaim some sleep before morning watch, annoyed by these constant nightmares that had plagued her the past few weeks. She knew they were most likely a result of her recent imprisonment, the aftermath of being brutalized in an alien penitentiary before Seven had managed to rescue her. She also knew that the subconscious disturbances were probably very much a part of her healing process, but she regretted the sleep she was missing. It was hard enough for a starship captain to get enough rest at the best of times, let alone a captain in the position she was in, with her ship stranded in the Delta Quadrant, 40,000 light years away from the Federation and Starfleet. 40 years at high warp away from home.

She found she was pressing closer to Seven, profoundly grateful for the sensation of the young woman’s body against her. It occurred to the captain that to be able to reach out in the dead of night for this beloved form, to feel the comfort of those arms drawing her into their sheltering embrace, made the difficulties in her life a whole lot easier to bear. Janeway could not remember what it had been like in those early years before Seven’s arrival, before she had developed a relationship with the young woman, nor was this was not entirely due to the fact that an injury a few months earlier had cost her memories stretching back three years. It was just that she could no longer imagine how she had ever coped with all the challenges and problems of command without Seven being such an integral part of her life. Janeway rubbed her cheek gently against the silk smooth skin, and felt a peacefulness seep over her, forcing aside the uneasiness the nightmare had generated.

She felt Seven’s right hand quietly slip beneath the covers to reach down to the captain’s leg, lightly rubbing her fingertips back and forth along the outside muscle without any particular intent. Janeway’s lips twitched, a sleepy smile curling the corners of her mouth. It was not entirely serious on Seven’s part, the captain knew. If she didn’t respond, or if she surrendered to the slumber that had seemed so desirable only a few moments earlier, the caress would eventually slow and stop as Seven fell asleep once more. Instead, Janeway pressed her leg gently down against the Borg’s groin, letting her partner know that while she wasn’t all that enthusiastic about where these caresses could lead, she wasn’t entirely adverse to them continuing either.

Janeway felt the metal tips of Seven’s left hand press into the small of her back, circling gently in a soothing manner that nonetheless, pulled the captain ever closer to her. Janeway shifted a little, pressing her mound against Seven’s hip, the tender inner lips parting to allow her moist flesh to press silkily against the protrusion of bone and warm skin. Seven responded by running her right hand along Janeway’s buttock, then up along her side and rib cage, still very slow and lazy; not passionate exactly, but very gentle and loving.

Janeway slipped her left hand beneath the blankets, resting it on the muscled plane of the Borg’s stomach. Her thumb stroked lightly along the faint trace of scars, the only reminder of Seven’s abdominal implant that had been removed after being assimilated not so long ago. She loved the feel of Seven’s silky smooth skin and she suckled at her lover’s neck, biting gently against the vein that throbbed beneath her lips

Seven’s lips brushed across her forehead, the tender touch moving along her hairline and Janeway raised her face to it, seeking out the kiss that trailed down her nose, accepting the connection of Seven’s mouth over her own. The full, expressive lips pressed against hers and the captain made a soft sound in her throat that was both loving and happy. She shivered as the hand on her rib cage slipped fingertips along the underside of her breast, stroking the side casually. Janeway pulled back a little to grant greater access, a ripple of pleasure going through her as Seven idly rubbed the back of her knuckles over the nipple that reacted to the caress with small tingles of delight.

It was so wonderfully lazy, still halfway between desire and relaxation, between the escalation to physical joining or the slide into welcoming slumber. It could easily go either way at this point. Rest or restoration … such a difficult decision yet both so incredibly healing in their own way.

“Kathryn,” came the whisper out of the darkness. A name, but a benediction as well, the word uttered with such love that Janeway felt her heart thump almost painfully in her chest.

Questioning.

“Darling,” the captain replied quietly, the soft acknowledgment of her lover, her voice a throaty trill. “Oh, yes.”

Seven turned her hand, taking the velvet soft nipple between her forefinger and thumb, rolling it gently between them, the flesh hardening sweetly in response, and Janeway knew she had made the right choice. She smiled and she let out her breath in a slow exhalation, pressing tighter to Seven, feeling the hip grow slippery beneath her and knowing it was her moisture causing it. So much moisture and Janeway laughed deep and low, too warm all of a sudden, the last lingering coldness from the nightmare dissipating without a trace.

More kisses now, so deep, shattering, openly desiring, and incredibly intense while Seven’s hand firmly massaged the captain’s breast, squeezing it gently. Janeway gladly lost herself in the sensation, absorbed herself in the touch and taste of her partner, the silky sweetness of her, the utter devotion and passion from her. Seven shifted to her side to roll them both over and the captain found herself being pressed down against the mattress, the weight of the younger woman covering her, making her feel loved and secure.

Janeway ran her hands restlessly over the smooth skin of Seven’s back and shoulder blades, stroking the bumpy ridges of spine, aware of the full breasts falling over hers while Seven positioned herself to allow her hand to caress the captain freely. Janeway’s head fell back as Seven tangled her fingers in the auburn triangle at the juncture of her thighs while the Borg kissed along her neck, her lips against her throat then up over her jaw to her ear.

“Spread your legs,” Seven requested softly, in a whisper that thrilled all the way through Janeway, making her tremble weakly as she obeyed.

The captain caught her breath as she felt the gentle touch of Seven’s fingertips slide along the crease, dipping into the wetness before finding the sensitive ridge of flesh, fondling it with tender insistence. She spread her legs wider, bringing her knee up to allow Seven in, the Borg’s fingers slipping into her so very easily.

“I’m so wet,” Janeway murmured.

“You are,” Seven whispered. “An indication of arousal.”

“Oh yes,” Janeway hissed. “You do that to me, love. I want you so much.”

She gasped for breath as her hips began to move against the hand that penetrated her, touching inside so deeply now, as far as Seven’s fingers could reach before the young woman withdrew, searching for the spot.

“Uh … no, love … wait …” Janeway protested, swallowing hard. “I want you all the way in.”

Seven hesitated briefly before pushing her two long fingers inside once more, flexing against the smooth walls as her thumb rasped over Janeway’s tender nodule, slippery with lubrication, allowing Janeway the time to savor and appreciate the pleasure. Both were keenly aware that once Seven found that particular spot just an inch or so inside Kathryn and began to caress it, the whole experience would be over rather quickly.

Quite wonderfully, mind you, but very quickly.

Janeway didn’t want it to be so fast and intense this particular instance. She wanted to enjoy the sensation of Seven inside her, to linger over the fingers that pressed inside her, that stroked ever deeper to touch her most intimate and internal places.

Janeway’s head fell back as she squeezed, setting up a regular pulsation with her interior muscles. Seven fell into a countering flex, increasing the pleasure steadily and slowly. The captain’s breath came in abrupt pants, little choked sounds of delight, loving what the young woman was doing to her, and how Seven was finding exactly the right rhythm to draw out the experience.

This was slower, but in its own way, a much hotter experience for the captain … and certainly required more physical expenditure. Janeway trembled, driving her hips against the gentle hand, undulating with an effort that brought beads of sweat to her brow, that covered her entire body with a slick sheen of perspiration. Finally, she was there, hovering for a timeless instant on the brink before gladly leaping off this ledge, tumbling into orgasm with a joyful cry.

Seven held her tightly, kissing her as the spasms finally ceased and Janeway relaxed under the weight of her lover, needing that strength on top of her.

“Oh Annika,” Janeway whispered, feeling drained and completely sated. “You’re so good to me.”

“I love pleasuring you, Kathryn,” Seven replied softly, moving over her. “Lie back, now.”

Seven straddled her partner, opening herself up to press against Janeway’s leg. Raising it in response, the captain felt the damp, hot flesh skid over the top of her thigh with delicious pressure. She was grateful that Seven seemed willing to do all the work tonight, though she did feel a tinge of guilt as well as she looked up at Seven move energetically back and forth over her. She rested her hands on Seven’s hips, helping her push while the Borg braced herself with her arms to either side of Janeway’s body. Suddenly, she threw her head back, gasping for air, rocking steadily, then quicker, harder, surging against the captain’s leg. Janeway stroked the muscled thighs, encouraging her with her fingertips, with her eyes, trying to communicate her love and desire.

“Yes, my darling,” she said, deliberately making her voice as deep and throaty as possible. “Come for me.”

Seven did, a gutteral sound catching in her throat as she arched and shuddered and finally relaxed, sinking down onto Janeway who kissed her lovingly, soothingly. For an instant, Seven’s entire weight rested on the captain before she managed to position her elbows under her to support her much denser mass. They remained where they were for long moments as Seven tried to catch her breath, and Janeway gently stoked her back, idly wondering how such a lazy beginning had turned into such a wonderfully physical encounter.

“Kathryn,” Seven said finally, quietly, intently. “I love you.”

“Oh darling, you’re my heart,” Janeway replied sincerely, nuzzling her.

The ritual, but still heartfelt words spoken, Janeway clung to Seven as the younger woman settled onto her side, carrying the captain with her until they were lying side by side, face to face, snuggled together in the center of the bed. Janeway smiled with sleepy satisfaction as she cuddled within the embrace, feeling very loved and secure, drowsiness stealing over her with an irresistible lure. Then she groaned as the lights went up to signify morning watch and the computer’s even feminine tones recited the time.

“No,” she muttered. “Not yet…”

“We still have thirty minutes,” Seven reminded her quietly. That had been a recent addition at Janeway’s request, altering the computer to wake them at 0530 rather than 0600, allowing them an extra bit of time to cuddle in the morning.

“It’s not long enough to go back to sleep.”

Seven reached up and stroked her partner’s cheek. “Are you really so tired?” Her voice was concerned.

Janeway buried her face against Seven’s neck, snuggling into that warm hollow. “I’ll just have to make a point of going to bed earlier,” she mumbled fretfully.

“No, what you are going to do is make an appointment to see the Doctor.”

That woke up the captain and Janeway drew back, eyeing her narrowly. “Excuse me?”

Seven did not back down. “You promised me that you would take care of yourself. You have been going to bed at a regular time, more than early enough to afford you a proper period of sleep. Since you are not rested, clearly something is wrong. Therefore, a appointment with the Doctor is in order.”

Janeway tried not to sigh. “Darling, I feel perfectly fine…”

“Then you would be rested,” Seven countered stubbornly. “Now will you make an appointment voluntarily, or shall I make one for you, pick you up and carry you through the ship to sickbay?”

Janeway’s eyes widened and she regarded Seven closely, trying to judge how serious the young woman was. Unfortunately, from the love and concern in her eyes, it was quite apparent Seven was more than willing to carry out such a threat. To the Borg, this clearly was a matter involving their relationship as opposed to their interaction as captain and crew. Janeway held a lot less authority in that dynamic, much to her great chagrin.

“All right,” Janeway agreed, rather crankily. “I’ll see the Doctor.”

“Acceptable.” Seven lowered her eyes. “I worry about you.”

Abashed, Janeway kissed her. “I know,” she said in a gentler tone. “Even though I don’t think anything is wrong.”

She rested her head on Seven’s shoulder, hugging the lanky torso.

“It was just a dream, sweetheart. I have them all the time.”

The ledge crumbled and she fell, screaming defiance all the way, arms and legs twisting, attempting to strike out at this unseen foe who had brought her here. The air was cold and the wind battered at her body then the mist cleared and she was able to see what caused the eerie red glow, what awaited her plummeting body.

She screamed once more … this time with fear.

B’Elanna Torres woke in a panic, thrashing in the bedcovers, sending the sheets scattering across her bedroom. For a moment, she didn’t know where she was or what was happening. Sitting upright, her heart pounding, the sweat beaded on her forehead, running down the Klingon ridges to slip off the end of her rather pert nose to drip onto her cleavage.

She took several deep breaths and checked the time. 0500. Too early for morning watch, but too late to try to go back to sleep. She rolled out of bed with a muffled curse and went into her ensuite, programming the sonic shower to high and slipping out of her nightgown before stepping irritably into the vibration. Once she had finished, she dressed in a fresh uniform, the black and gold of Starfleet covering her stocky form in a way that lent it stature and granted her a self assurance she did not always feel outside of her engine room.

Restless, she left her quarters and headed for the messhall. Though the ship’s replicator system was now fully back on line and Neelix tended to spend more time in security than in his kitchen, it still remained the main gathering area for the crew, a place to relax and share food, regardless of whether it was some alien dish prepared in the kitchen or something more familiar from the large replicators. B’Elanna did not want to be alone at the moment, feeling a need to be with others. And an unmistakable craving for her grandmother’s banana pancakes.

But the messhall was mostly empty at this time of the morning and she had to search the room before seeing Lt. Harry Kim sitting in a shadowed corner, working over several padds and a big mug of coffee.

“Hey Starfleet,” she greeted after retrieving her breakfast from the replicator and a mug of coffee for herself from the ever present pot perking in the kitchen. “Mind if I join you?”

“Sure, B’Elanna,” he said, eyeing her uncertainly.

The Klingon couldn’t figure out why he was looking at her so strangely before belatedly remembering that she had been less than approachable to him recently … ever since he had defended Angela James in a court martial. B’Elanna had not spoken to him for weeks afterward and then, only when she had to. But she was lonely and the fact was, prior to his accepting the saboteur’s case, they had been pretty good friends.

“Can’t you sleep?” she asked awkwardly.

He shrugged. “Just restless I guess.” He seemed to be having a certain amount of difficulty looking her in the eye.

She wondered if he wanted her to apologize for her ignoring him, but it was something she wasn’t quite prepared to do. After all, he was the one who chose to defend a woman whose crimes included trying to murder the Chief Engineer on several occasions, as well as setting the explosive that had cost the captain her memories. Not to mention stealing a runabout with Voyager’s latest experimental slipstream drive. The subsequent destruction of the Mississippi had set back considerably their research and progress in finding a propulsion system that would shorten their return journey. If Voyager destroying the runabout hadn’t killed the woman, B’Elanna thought she most certainly would have.

Though she tried not to say those sort of things out loud anymore.

“What are you doing?” she asked instead.

“I was working on the slipstream drive.” He pushed over a padd. “I think if we can just alter the shield harmonics enough, we can coast on the slipstream wave rather than try to fly inside the conduit.”

She studied the small screen. “You mean like surfing?”

He tried to control the grin that appeared. It was well known on the ship that the Klingon had been attempting to learn to body surf recently and having very poor results. Not that it was noteworthy other than the fact that she had accused Seven of trying to drown her on three separate occasions in loud outrage, well within earshot of the engineering crew. Those sort of comments tended to take on a life of their own in the lower decks, where the tedium was only sporadically broken by periods of sheer terror. The crew was having a humorous time deciding what would finally take precedence; Seven’s ability to teach or B’Elanna’s inability to learn. Actual bets had been laid on the outcome.

“Something like that. I think that would take away the damage we’re recieving in the integrity fields.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “It could work. We’ll have to run simulations.”

He paused. “I was going to run some this morning in Holodeck two.”

“Want some company?”

He blinked. “Of course,” he said, somewhat eagerly and B’Elanna realized that he had been feeling isolated from the crew recently, aware that she wasn’t the only one who had been less than thrilled with his choices. Now she found she was regretting her rather harsh attitude.

“Listen, I have a departmental meeting first thing, but we can meet around 1100.”

“All right.” There was another pause and he seemed to be searching for something to say. “Uh, so what has you up so early?”

She frowned, a little reluctant to explain, feeling as if she was being silly and overreacting. But before she knew it, she was explaining the dream to him, of being stuck on the rock ledge, of the cliff and the door.

“So what do you think is behind the door?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I only know I have to get over to it somehow.”

“Well, if you dream it again, take some rope along.” Then at her expression, he added, “I mean, if you recognize the situation, you’ll know you’re dreaming and you’ll be able to control it, right?”

Uncharacteristically, B’Elanna felt a shiver go down her back.

“I don’t want to dream it again.”

He seemed startled by her intensity and he studied her quizzically. “It was just a dream, wasn’t it?”

She took a breath. “Sure,” she said grimly, picking up her fork to finish the pancakes that she really didn’t want anymore for some reason.

“It was only a dream.”

Tuvok sat cross-legged on the deck of his quarters, his slim form held perfectly erect as his dark eyes centered on the tiny flame flickering from the gilded meditation lamp. He was utilizing strict Vulcan mental regimes to resume control over his swirling thoughts, to regain discipline over his emotions.

It was a fallacy that Vulcans did not have emotions. In truth, their emotions were firmly repressed, channeled into logical paths from a very early age. After spending over a hundred years with Vulcan disciplines controlling his life, it was fairly disturbing for him to suddenly require the most elementary of lessons to regain his composure.

To his great displeasure, he discovered he was now as uncertain as he had been as a youth, embarking on his first mental exercises. He supposed this was a result of the past few months, of his dissatisfaction with his recent performance as Voyager’s security chief. On his watch, not only had the captain been seriously injured, but the perpetrator had managed to escape, stealing a runabout from a supposedly secure hanger deck. Not to mention Lt. Harry Kim’s spirited defense in a court martial that Tuvok, as prosecution, should have dominated. Had Angela James not pre-empted the eventual outcome by making a break for it, the dark-skinned Vulcan with the elegantly pointed ears would have been hard pressed to postulate a favorable outcome on his behalf.

Were the security chief Human, he would have been tremendously humiliated. As it was, he found it increasingly disconcerting to think about the events, unable to view them with his customary dispassionate manner. He had difficulty being in the captain’s presence, aware that he had let her down in the most profound of ways, despite the fact that she offered every indication that she had forgiven him any mistakes he might have made, any flaws that he had displayed.

Which embarrassed him even further. Mortified at his lapse, he had initially reacted by trying to control all the external influences, increasing training and drills for all his security teams, lengthening his own sessions of physical workouts and martial art programs considerably, driving himself as hard as he did his people. He had gone over the computer security protocols with level five diagnostics and had generally made it known that any further lapses in diligence within his department would be severely dealt with.

Yet, despite all that, he felt it wasn’t enough, that he had not achieved a proper level of adequacy.

After all, a mere dream should not have shredded his emotional discipline so easily. Should not have left him feeling so afraid. Should not have made him bolt out of his slumber with a terrified cry.

Clearly, he required more work, more meditation, more discipline.

More control.

Captain Janeway glanced up from her computer console as the door hissed open. She had returned to her cabin after her checkup with the doctor, deciding to serve out her shift at her work station in her own quarters. The dual desks set back to back against the wall opposite the hull windows, afforded her a sense of Seven’s presence that her ready room did not. It bothered her that the Doctor could find nothing physically wrong with Janeway, nor could he explain away the dream, other than suggesting that it was just one more nightmare in the host of others that she had to face in order to regain her sense of self after her ordeal in the alien prison. The captain was irritated by the fact that she wasn’t recovering in a more timely manner. At the same time, she felt a need to be in more secure surroundings, needed to be home where the feeling of Seven wrapped around her like the scented waters of a warm bath.

The captain’s chair was positioned to give her a clear view of the door, though anyone walking in would not see her immediately. The ship’s only child, Naomi Wildman, certainly did not as she entered after her daily play session with the captain’s Irish Setter puppy, Jake. It afforded the captain the opportunity to study the youngster for a moment or so before Naomi became aware that she wasn’t alone.

The youngling was a Katarian on her father’s side, small bone flares running down the middle of her forehead to the bridge of her nose. Otherwise, she favored her mother, with Ensign Samantha Wildman’s Human looks in the long, strawberry hair and bright blue eyes. She had been born during Voyager’s first year of being stranded in the Delta Quadrant, her conception having occurred on Deep Space Nine just prior to their mission to the Badlands. While she was only five, Katarians matured quicker than Humans and as a result, she appeared and acted almost eight.

A shy expression crossed her face when she saw Janeway sitting at her desk and she tried to stand very straight, hands linked behind her back, very reminiscent of a certain Borg astrometrics officer. Janeway carefully hid her smile.

“Miss Wildman,” she said formally.

“Captain,” Naomi replied respectfully. “I apologize for disturbing you. I didn’t realize you’d be home or I’d have requested admittance.”

The little girl had always presented a fairly confident manner around the captain, less intimidated by the woman who commanded the starship where she lived than others in the crew. Recently, Janeway was informed that the child’s intended to become her bridge assistant and to that end, Naomi had enlisted Seven’s help. Despite the Borg’s initial uncertainty, the pair had ended up developing a remarkably close friendship, one that alternately surprised and amused the captain. Janeway had also been truly impressed by the little girl’s discipline in tackling all the tasks and studies Seven had given her, occasionally wishing that some of her real Starfleet officers would display such an utter dedication to duty. Certainly, it made the child a lot more self confident around the captain than she would otherwise be.

“Normally, I wouldn’t be home at this time,” Janeway assured her. She patted Jake who had promptly loped over to her, pushing his head onto her lap as she scratched him lavishly behind the ears. “Did this guy behave himself today?”

“He conducted himself adequately,” Naomi replied smartly.

Janeway kept her attention centered on the dog until she was sure she wasn’t going to laugh. The child was so completely serious that it wouldn’t do for the captain to let on she found Naomi’s attitude lately … well, absolutely adorable. Possible because it was Seven being imitated so well with the child’s lack of contractions, and the advanced vocabulary she was beginning to display.

“I’m glad,” Janeway murmured finally. She looked up, regarding the child with an interested expression. “How have your studies been?”

Naomi brightened and moved closer, apparently thrilled that the captain was engaging her in conversation rather than dismissing her immediately. “Very well, Captain,” she said, eyeing the desk covertly as well as Janeway’s computer console, obviously trying to see what the older female was up to. “May I ask what you’re working on? Is it a tactical program?”

Janeway allowed herself a small smile as she turned the screen to the child’s view. “Nothing so exciting I’m afraid,” she told her. “A captain’s life includes a lot of paper work. These are departmental reports from Engineering. “

“I see,” Naomi said seriously, studying the screen intently as if she actually understood what she was looking at.

Janeway’s lips twitched. Perhaps she did, she told herself in amusement. After all, Seven is a remarkably patient teacher, and the child is very bright. The captain leaned back in her chair and picked up her coffee mug, taking a sip. She noted that Naomi’s eyes followed her avidly, carefully absorbing all the captain’s mannerisms and Janeway had to fight the sudden urge to straighten up and appear more dignified, aware that she had her tunic unfastened to hang negligently open, revealing the somewhat wrinkled slate-blue sweater. Which, horror of horrors, wasn’t even tucked in.

“Can I offer you something to drink?” she asked, feeling a bit self-conscious.

“Is that coffee?” Naomi asked eagerly. “I’ll have some of that.”

Janeway’s eyebrow quirked. “I doubt that your mother would approve of my offering you any.”

“But you’re the captain,” Naomi noted guilelessly. “If you wanted to share …”

Janeway laughed as she got up to go to the replicator. “When it comes to things like this, mothers always outrank captains,” she told her, programming in some instructions. “How about some fruit juice instead?”

“Thank you, captain,” the child responded dutifully though it was clear she was disappointed that she wouldn’t be allowed to participate in the captain’s most well known vice. “Mango, cherry and grapefruit, please.”

Janeway managed to stifle her wince at the combination and keyed in the flavors, picking up the small glass full of the reddish juice that materialized on the small tray. She carried it over and gave it to the child who accepted it with polite thanks.

“Actually, Miss Wildman,” the captain said as she resumed her seat. “I’ve been meaning to speak with you.”

“You have?” Naomi said, surprised and suddenly a little apprehensive.

“It’s come to my attention that you’ve been training for the position of my bridge assistant.”

“Seven says that no such position exists,” Naomi said honestly, if a bit reluctant to bring that to the captain’s attention. She very carefully placed her glass on Seven’s work station and granted Janeway her full attention.

“She’s absolutely correct,” Janeway replied, clamping down on her amusement. “But in the Delta Quadrant, we’ve been forced to adapt and create a great many positions as required by Voyager. After all, most ships do not carry cooks or native guides, yet Neelix has admirably fulfilled both roles prior to his becoming a security officer.”

“That’s true,” Naomi agreed eagerly.

Janeway assumed a properly serious expression. “I’m curious, Naomi. What do you expect to be doing as my bridge assistant?”

“I would look after any tasks that you’re too busy to do,” Naomi said promptly.

Janeway nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, you could. There’s the matter of making sure reports get to the department heads, handling any memos from them, seeing that my ready room is always ready and that my dog is properly exercised.” She paused. “You’re already performing that last duty.”

“Yes, captain,” Naomi said proudly. Then she looked a little anxious. “I have been acceptable, haven’t I?”

Janeway honestly did not know how she was keeping a straight face through all this. “You have been most exceptionable,” she assured her gravely. “Obviously, it’s time for us to make your role a little more official.” She leaned forward, removing a pip from her own collar and affixing it to the child’s. “Naomi Wildman, I am assigning you to the position of Captain’s Bridge Assistant. There will be a list of duties placed in your personal computer during a regular rotation of duty shift. Are you ready for this responsibility?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Naomi said smartly, straightening to her best parade attention.

Janeway stifled her grin and relaxed in her chair, linking her fingers across her abdomen as the child beamed at her, feeling absurdly pleased with herself for having indulged the youngster this way.

“As you were,” Janeway said smoothly. “Now, why don’t you have a seat and explain where exactly you are in your studies. If you’re free at the moment, of course.”

“I am at the captain’s discretion,” Naomi replied promptly.

Janeway wondered where she had adopted that particular phrase. It certainly wasn’t from Seven, she decided wryly, considering her partner’s occasional rebellious attitude to the command structure.

“Please, have a seat,” Janeway said, motioning her to the chair in the living area. She took her coffee along as she positioned herself comfortably on the couch. Jake took the opportunity to leap up beside her and plop his head on her lap, sighing gustily, and she favored him with an indulgent expression as she rested her hand on his silky fur.

Naomi proceeded to explain her most recent lessons in biology, astrometrics and mathematics with precise and extensive detail while Janeway listened attentively. She made a mental note that the child was not mentioning any literary or art courses and that the lack should be addressed. The captain remembered that she had not been particularly interested in those subjects when she had been Naomi’s age either, but she had been forced by her parents to broaden her horizons nonetheless, and had been suitably grateful for it as an adult. There were few people on her ship who were more skilled in the arts rather than the sciences … it was a starship after all … but she would have to find someone to teach Naomi in the non-scientific areas. Perhaps Leonardo from her da Vinci holo-program.

Naomi paused briefly, looking at the captain closely. “I think Seven was incorrect,” she said suddenly.

Janeway raised an eyebrow. “About what?”

“She said that you were uncomfortable with children,” Naomi said with disarming honesty. “But you don’t seem that way at all.”

Janeway wondered how and when Seven had come to such a conclusion … not that it was entirely inaccurate. The captain got along with children quite nicely, but only by treating the child in question as an alien lifeform with its own set of protocols, utilizing her diplomatic skills as much as possible.

“I don’t have much opportunity to interact with children,” she admitted, matching the child’s openness. “It’s a skill I’ve never had a chance to really develop.”

“You’ll have to learn,” Naomi went on, blithely unaware that this was probably not the sort of conversation she should be engaging in with the captain. “I heard Mom telling Neelix that Seven wants to have children. How can you and Seven make a baby?”

Janeway blinked. Suddenly this had become very awkward. “Uh, well…” she temporized.

But Naomi was continuing without a pause and Janeway suddenly understood that what she thought the child was asking was in fact, far too limited for this very intellectually gifted daughter of a science officer like Samantha Wildman.

“Obviously genetic material will have to be removed from one of you and placed into an egg in the other, but without the XY chromosome to trigger conception, isn’t that actually cloning? Will you recruit a donor from one of the male members of the crew to add their genetic matrix to the egg? If not, you’ll only be limited to female children since you would only have the XX chromosomes to work with. Which of you intend to carry the fetus to term? Or are you going to germinate it in a generation tube?”

Janeway tried to remember if she had been at this level in reproductive biology at Naomi’s age. Come to think of it, she was barely at that level now, being woefully uninformed regarding any future plans of marriage and children that she and Seven may have decided on. She understood that they had probably discussed such things at one time or another but she was unable to remember any conversations pertaining to it. It was times like this that she felt the loss of her memories most keenly.

She took a breath. “I’m sure the Doctor will be able to solve any possible problems,” she said, as noncommittedly as possible.

Naomi nodded cheerfully. “I’ll ask him.”

Janeway wished she could listen in on that conversation. Then she thought about it and decided that she would rather be left in the dark about it. It was bad enough that she had just been left in the dust by a five year old, and she’d be prostrate with embarrassment if she wasn’t so damned amused. There was no doubt in her mind that it was time to change the subject.

“Have you seen Flotter recently?” she asked, deliberately ignoring how inept that was.

Naomi blinked, but took the alteration of topic in stride. “I played one of his holo stories yesterday.” She frowned, a dark shadow crossing her bright eyes. “I thought he could help me with my bad dreams, but he couldn’t.”

Janeway was immediately sympathetic, knowing all too well how uncomfortable bad dreams could be. “Nightmares?”

“Yes,” Naomi said, and it was clear to Janeway suddenly that the child was actually quite disturbed. “I don’t like them. I always fall at the end. I can never get through the door.”

A chill abruptly shot through Janeway, but she forced herself to stay calm. “The door?” she prodded gently.

“Yes, on the other side of the canyon,” Naomi responded in a subdued tone. “I know I have to get over there to where the door is, but the ledge always breaks before I can figure out how. Then I fall and fall and I get really scared. Then I wake up. Mom says that I’ve been reading too many scarey stories lately. I think it’s because I can’t find Critter.”

“Critter?”

“My bear.”

“Ah,” Janeway said with understanding. “I had a teddy bear when I was young as well. His name was Bobo.”

Naomi stared at her in disbelief, either because the captain supposedly had a teddy bear at one point, or at the entire concept that Janeway had actually been young once. Janeway didn’t know which was the case, and wasn’t sure she should find out. Nor was she sure that she should try to pursue this. On one hand, she didn’t want to scare the child any further but on the other, how could the pair of them be sharing the same dream? Was anyone else on the ship also experiencing this?

The door to her quarters suddenly swished open, and Janeway glanced at the time, startled to realize that she had whiled away the duration of her duty shift talking to Naomi. Seven appeared vaguely surprised to see her partner and the girl together, but she smiled faintly when Naomi bounded over to her, very much the young child once more.

“Seven, look what the captain gave me,” she exclaimed, showing the pip on her collar to the Borg. “I’m really going to be her bridge assistant!”

“Indeed,” Seven said with a tinge of amusement. She darted a glance at Janeway and the captain was abashed by the emotion there, the warm glow of approval. “I am sure you will be wonderful in the position.”

“I start tomorrow.” Naomi suddenly noticed that if Seven was off duty, then so was her mother. “I gotta go.” She looked at the captain and nodded with a formality that made Janeway smile. “Thank you, Captain.”

Janeway inclined her head graciously, then Naomi waved a quick good-bye to Seven and dashed out of their quarters. The room seemed a little too still suddenly, as if an energy had gone out of it and Janeway felt the eyes of her partner caressing her.

“I am surprised.” Seven sat in the chair recently vacated by Naomi as Jake slide off the couch to greet his other mistress, his tail wagging hard while she patted him.

Janeway relaxed against the cushions of the sofa, stretching out her arms along the back. “What about?”

“I did not think you were entirely comfortable with the idea of interacting with Naomi.”

Janeway eyed her briefly, her lips twitching. “Well, I suppose I should get used to doing so, especially if you’re intending to have children.”

Seven looked at the captain, coloring beneath the faintly sardonic look. “Do you remember our previous discussions regarding that issue?”

Her partner shook her head, and Seven was disappointed, forcing herself not to show it. The captain’s memory loss was an unfortunate reality they both had to deal with.

“According to Naomi, we’ve discussed having children. Perhaps you should catch me up on that … and on the current status of our relationship. I know we were engaged before my injury, but we really haven’t established that we’re at that same level now. Are we?”

Seven hesitated with a certain amount of dismay. “I had assumed we were still engaged.” It had not occurred to her that they were not, even after all they had been through.

“Excellent,” Janeway said reassuringly, favoring her with an affection gaze. “I enjoy being engaged to you, and I’m perfectly content to accept that as our current status. As for children, I do think that’s something we need to discuss further.”

Seven lifted her chin. “Since my interaction with Naomi, and our assimilation of Jake, I have seriously considered increasing our family collective. I was unsure how much you remembered of our previous discussions, and found it difficult to approach you about it.”

Janeway looked perplexed. “Why?”

Seven frowned. “I was under the impression that you did not want to discuss such things. It was as if you did not wish to concern yourself with such things.”

Janeway took a breath, looking a bit embarrassed. “Why does that not surprise me?” She regarded Seven, her eyes darkening perceptively. “I really can’t say why I didn’t want to discuss it before, Seven, but I do think we should talk about it now. You should know that having children is not something that has ever been a primary goal of mine. My first two relationships never reached that stage, and though Mark and I talked about it once or twice during our engagement, it was only in the vaguest of terms. Nothing was ever really settled. You do understand that for you and me to even have children in the first place, a great deal of genetic manipulation is required. Unless we have some sort of male donor, and I have no real genetic input at all.”

“I do want you to have input,” Seven said quickly. “I would have expressed that previously, but you always changed the subject as quickly as possible.”

Janeway flushed, lowering her eyes. “However did you tolerate me, Annika? I was so determined to keep you at arm’s length.”

Seven discovered that she was mildly amused. “It was not always easy.” She paused. “I think I always assumed that we would have children after we were married. Since we decided we would be married once we returned to the Alpha Quadrant, it was not an immediate concern that needed to be addressed.”

Janeway studied her intently. “That’s changed now?”

Seven was somewhat surprised by the captain’s perceptiveness. Folding her hands on her lap, the Borg studied them pensively. “I find that I regret I agreed to wait, even though it was initially my idea to be married in the Alpha Quadrant.”

Janeway pursed her lips. “Why?”

“I … I wish to be married sooner,” Seven said, raising her eyes to meet Janeway’s squarely.

Janeway raised an eyebrow. “In order to have children?”

“No,” Seven responded, startled by the assumption. “I want … I require a stronger commitment than the one we have now. More … binding. When you lost your memory, a formally stated union between us would have been reassuring to me while I was dealing with … the situation.”

“Ah,” Janeway said with sudden understanding. “I could have ignored our former relationship, could have easily decided that being involved with you, regardless of what had already happened between us, was simply too impossible. With a legally binding agreement between us, I would have been forced to address the relationship, would have been forced to accept the consequences of having a spouse regardless of how my emotions eventually worked themselves out.”

Seven nodded, a little ashamed that she had thought that way. Then, as if sensing her unease, Janeway leaned over, reaching out her hand which Seven accepted, allowing the captain to pull her over to the couch beside her. Seven gratefully slipped her arm around her partner’s shoulders, hugging her gently.

“Aren’t you lucky I fell for you anyway?” Janeway murmured into the Borg’s ear. “Without the legal tie.”

Seven turned her head to find the captain’s lips, kissing her tenderly. “Very fortunate.”

The Borg was still getting used to this new Janeway, still adapting to how open and honest this woman was in discussing her feelings and viewpoints, as well as the unexpected affection she constantly displayed. Seven had not realized how much her partner had held back in their previous relationship until she had been exposed to this more receptive woman. Sometimes, in her deepest, darkest thoughts, Seven was glad that Janeway had been injured in such a way that she had lost her memories … but it was not something she was ever going to share with anyone.

“So, let’s talk about this,” Janeway said, shifting so that she was sitting more against Seven, leaning back against the Borg as she stretched her booted feet onto coffee table, crossing them at the ankles. “You want us to be married sooner?”

Seven wrapped her arms warmly around the smaller woman beside her. Janeway actually sounded interested, intrigued by the idea rather than the somewhat evasive attitude she usually took when Seven tried making concrete plans of this nature. “Do you have a preference of ceremonies?”

Janeway took Seven’s Borg-enhanced hand between hers, caressing it idly as she thought. “I’m not really partial to any particular formalities. I guess I always thought I’d be married in a similar ceremony to my parent’s wedding.”

“The mid-western, North American civil ceremony,” Seven noted, having researched it.

“Well, when you put it that way, it sounds a little dry,” Janeway said, leaning her head back with a smile. “I think we could dress it up a little. The problem is, the only person on the ship who can perform wedding ceremonies is the captain. I really don’t like the idea of playing both bride and minister.”

“Could we utilize a hologram?”

“I don’t think that’s legal, and frankly, we’ve made so many precedent setting procedures on Voyager that I’m hesitant to try for one more when we don’t have to.”

“Perhaps Commander Chakotay could be made captain for a day,” Seven suggested. “Or for even a few days. There is the matter of the honeymoon, after all.”

“My favorite part,” Janeway said dryly. She took a breath. “Prixin will be here soon.”

Seven hesitated, unsure as to why the captain had suddenly brought that up. “The Talaxian holiday for family. It occurs within the next three months.”

Janeway nodded. “It would be an easy wedding anniversary to remember. Certainly, an appropriately significant one.”

It actually took a few moments for Seven to understand what Janeway was saying. “You want us to be married that soon?”

Janeway turned her head to look back at her, suddenly seeming a little uncertain. “You don’t want to?”

“Oh, Kathryn, of course I want to,” Seven responded, finding it hard to breathe suddenly. It was if her chest was suddenly full, her stomach rippling with curiously odd flutters. She hugged Janeway tightly. “It will make me so happy to marry you during the Prixin celebration.”

“Then we should start making the arrangements now.” Janeway held up her hand and began to tick off the requirements on her fingers. “What should we wear, where will we hold it, what sort of reception should we have, what will we exchange, that sort of thing. There’s a lot to plan. Are you prepared for the added responsibility we’ll have over the next three months?”

“Yes.” Seven hugged the captain tightly. “I am very excited.”

Janeway laughed.

“So am I, darling. So am I.”

The news spread around the ship faster than an antimatter reaction, which meant, Janeway supposed, that Seven had told B’Elanna, and the chief engineer took it upon herself to inform everyone else. Janeway wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about that, but since the crew would have found out sooner or later, she guessed she could live with it … as well as all the good wishes and genuinely favorable comments directed her way. It surprised her how people were altering the way they were treating both her and Seven, almost as if the two were being viewed in a different light though Janeway couldn’t understand why. After all, she and Seven had been formally engaged for almost a year, loss of memory and assorted other adventures notwithstanding.

She idly regarded the wall directly opposite where she was sitting as the Doctor hovered over her, running a medi-probe over her head, the tip glowing a cheerful golden yellow. Positioned in front of the large desk as he carried out her regularly scheduled examination, she noticed that he made little sounds in his throat as he worked, a soft humming that she finally identified as a piece from a Vulcan opera. She was amused to find that she was surprised by that. After all, she had certified the Emergency Medical Hologram as a sentient being. Why should it be unexpected to her when he insisted on acting like one?

“You seem fine, captain,” he said, studying the readings from his tricorder.

“That’s what I keep telling everyone,” she said dryly.

“Hmpf,” he responded, his level dark eyes frowning at her. “But until I say it, it’s not official.”

His bald head gleamed beneath the harsh, incandescent glow of the sickbay lights and she had to resist the urge to run her hand over it just to find out what it would feel like. She always had that impulse around bald men, and she had no idea where it sprang from. She wondered briefly what Seven would look like bald, and then wondered if she was losing her mind. It seemed her thought processes were becoming more erratic the closer her wedding day approached.

“What about the dreams?” she asked, trying not to think about the upcoming event because every time she did, her palms became incredibly sweaty for some reason.

“I did a follow up on that,” he said, putting down his tricorder as he regarded her evenly. “As well as yourself and Naomi, Ensign Hickman has mentioned having similar dreams. And as in your case, the dreams have lessened in intensity and frequency though they are still occurring every four or five days apart. But that’s the only correlation I’ve found. None of the patients have anything in common with each other physically, nor in terms of a shared trauma specific to this group of people. Of course, there may be more crewmembers having these dreams but without asking everyone on the ship, there’s no way of knowing. The symbols in the dream, the cliff, the fall, the door, these are all fairly common. We may just be assuming the dreams are the same rather than merely using the same elements.”

Janeway nodded thoughtfully. “I still think we should pursue this. We need to know if this is a coincidence, some minor incident, or the portent of something major and quite dangerous. I’d like you to ask all your patients if they’ve experienced any disturbing dreams recently. If the same symbols continue to recur, common or not, it would be a significant similarity.”

“That’s probably a good idea.” The Doctor regarded the captain for a moment, raising an eyebrow. “How are the wedding plans coming along?”

Janeway stifled a sigh. For some reason, that was a question she was asked a lot recently, despite the fact that her only real input was to agree to whatever Seven proposed. She didn’t quite know how the planning stage had been taken out of her hands so neatly but the fact was, Seven had gone into an immediate consultation with Ensign Wildman, B’Elanna Torres and Sek, leaving her completely out of it. Not that the captain objected to that exactly … she was not the sort to go into spasms over dresses and flowers and lace for anyone, least of all herself … but Janeway wondered occasionally if she was missing out. Seven seemed so satisfied with all her plans.

No, more than satisfied, Janeway amended hastily. Seven is as deliriously happy as I have ever seen her. Hardly the normal attitude for the serious, cool young woman.

Just to be sure of that assessment, a discrete question to Tuvok had informed her that he had never seen the young woman so constantly upbeat either. Since he remembered Seven from the time she arrived, the Vulcan’s acknowledgment of the Borg’s joyful manner seemed quite significant. Janeway decided she was not going to begrudge the young woman the chance to completely indulge herself. After all, the captain would rather just show up and have it over with as quickly and efficiently as possible. Perferably with just her, Seven, and some form of legal authority, though she doubted that was how it was going to happen.

“The plans seem to be coming along quite well. We’ve decided that I’ll wear one of the new style dress uniforms they brought back from the Alpha Quadrant. Seven, on the other hand, is intending to wear a full length gown, though where she got it, I have no idea. It is quite lovely and she looks absolutely exquisite in it.”

The Doctor frowned. “Isn’t it bad luck for …” he trailed off uncertainly.

Janeway grinned impishly. “For the groom to see the bride in the dress before the ceremony? Doctor, I’m not a groom.”

“Ah, yes,” he said, smiling a little himself. “I forgot. Different set of traditions in your case.”

“Of course, like everything else in the Delta Quadrant, we’re making up our own set of traditions as we go along. There’s to be a certain amount of Klingon ritual involved in the ceremony as well as some Vulcan and Bajoran input. It’s becoming quite the combination of cultures, which is appropriate since Voyager’s crew is basically our family. In the meantime, Commander Chakotay and I are going over all the regulations required to make him a temporary captain though I’ll still be aboard Voyager and perfectly capable of commanding. It’s been difficult to cover all the necessary legal requirements.”

“Perhaps you won’t have to, Captain.” The Doctor smiled at her sharply raised eyebrow. “In the absence of a captain, the Chief Medical Officer or the Ship’s Counselor can also perform weddings since we’ve replaced the function of the ship’s chaplain from the Earth naval traditions. We were given the authorization to perform marriages two decades ago.”

Janeway considered that. “I never thought about that,” she lied carefully. In truth, they had overlooked that idea because of the holographic angle. Now she realized that was being unfair to the Doctor. “You do have all the rights and privileges of any Starfleet member, which should include all the responsibilities. If you wouldn’t mind the extra work?”

“I’d prefer to think of it as an extension of my duties,” he offered dryly. “I’ll be more than glad to perform any ceremony you might choose.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” That was one obstacle put to rest and the more that were taken care of ahead of time, the more she and Seven could relax and actually enjoy their big day rather than be caught up with all the confusion that generally accompanied such an event.

Janeway glanced at the Doctor and saw that he seemed to have completed all his poking and prodding for this appointment. “Am I done?” she asked, a little more eagerly than she had intended.

“More or less,” he agreed sardonically. “I will want to keep an eye on these dreams.” He tilted his head slightly. “May I ask you a question, Captain?”

Janeway felt a certain trepidation. For the blunt, less than diplomatic hologram to suddenly request permission must mean that the question was probably something she didn’t want to answer.

“Go ahead,” she replied with wary resignation.

“Why the sudden decision to get married?” There was none of his usual sarcastic tone in his voice. Instead, it was honestly puzzled. “Everyone assumed that you two would take your time with your engagement.”

“It has been almost a year, Doctor,” Janeway reminded him. “In fact, it will be a year two weeks before the wedding day itself.”

“A year since you and Seven originally became … uh, an official couple. But it’s only been a few months since you lost your memory and in effect, had to get to know Seven all over again. Maybe I shouldn’t be commenting on this, but on the other hand, I am your personal physician. Captain, you were engaged to Mark Johnson for three years with no established wedding date. As a result, I developed the impression that your natural tendency is to avoid intimate personal commitments whenever possible. This sudden decision to be married seems quite unlike you.”

Janeway would have bristled at such a blatant assessment of her character as well as the invasion of her privacy, but for the fact that his tone was honestly curious and actually quite gentle, as if he were truly concerned about this. And for all she knew, she mused, he might be. Hadn’t she determined that sentience and life was more than just being organic?

“Doctor, I think we can both acknowledge that I’m not really the same person I was before my injury,” she said quietly. “The loss of my memories forced me to look at things quite differently than at any other time in my life, and it taught me what truly matters. I have to say that Annika is the most important thing to me, more so than even my command and career in Starfleet.”

He seemed astonished by her words, even a little shocked. “Captain, I never thought I’d ever hear you say something like that.”

Janeway lips quirked with wry amusement. “I never thought I’d ever say it. I guess the older we get, the more we learn.” She folded her hands neatly on her lap and looked pensively at them. “I know that both Seven and I need this formal commitment between us. With her desire to have children, I want us to be completely settled and totally comfortable as a family ourselves before that happens.”

“But Seven can’t–” the Doctor began, and then stopped abruptly as he stared at the captain. His face grew very still, and Janeway developed a distinct chill as she looked into those impassive features.

“What is it?” she said, her voice going deadly quiet.

He was unable to hold her gaze, developing a intense interest in his instruments on his desk.

“Captain, it’s imperative that you and Seven make an appointment to see me together, as a couple, as soon as possible.”

“What’s this about, Doctor?” she said, unaware that she had stood up and was now looming over him as she rested her weight on her hands which were placed flat on the desk. “What’s wrong?”

He looked up somberly, meeting her eyes squarely. “This concerns both you and Seven. I need to see you together.” He softened. “I’m sorry, Captain, I just can’t say any more until Seven is also present.”

Janeway felt a little faint. Whatever it was, from his expression, she knew it wasn’t good.

“I’ll contact Seven now,” she said, reaching for her comm badge.

Knowing without a doubt that the joy which had been so present recently in the young woman’s eyes and manner was about to disappear.

Seven of Nine thought that this must be one of the nightmares Janeway was constantly having, that she had somehow been drawn into this most horrible of scenarios from an outside reality. This could not possibly be happening. Not now. Suddenly, the young woman was acutely aware of her pulse throbbing in her temples, of her fingers feeling chilled, like leaden lumps of ice.

“Are you sure?”

She didn’t quite recognize Kathryn’s voice. It sounded oddly distant and strangely calm, but with an underlying tremor that Seven thought only her Borg enhanced hearing was able to discern. From the corner of Seven’s eye, she could see the captain’s expression, a briefly displayed distress and sorrow before the command mask slid down over it, making her face impassive and firmly controlled. She reached over and grasped Seven’s right hand, entwining her fingers in hers, gripping them tightly, but the Borg’s extremities were so numb that she was unable to sense much beyond the mere pressure of the captain’s touch.

The Doctor regarded them both gravely, looking as unhappy as Seven could ever remember seeing him.

“I’m sorry, Captain, I’m positive.” His dark eyes met Seven’s. “The Borg removed all your internal reproductive organs when they installed your abdominal implant. From the scarring, I’d have to say it was done shortly after you achieved puberty. If it had been more recent, or they had left just a fragment of any of the organs, I might have been able to regenerate at least enough tissue to provide what would be needed, but without it…” He stopped, searching for the words. “I’m sorry, not only can you not carry a fetus, you don’t have the necessary genetic material for implanting into the egg of another female. Without that kind of material, it would be too close to cloning, including the accompanying problems like genetic drift and the possibility of mutation.”

He took a deep breath, more for the time it afforded him to prepare for these next words than any physical requirement to breathe. “You and Captain Janeway cannot produce a genetic offspring together,” he stated with a quiet finality. “Not naturally or legally under Federation law.”

Seven thought that this must be shock. Beyond shock. She didn’t know what she felt.

“I think that Seven and I need to discuss this,” Janeway said in a carefully tempered tone, “before we go any further.”

“I understand.” He looked at the Borg. “I’m truly sorry, Seven.”

Seven didn’t know how she was standing or even walking. She was surrounded by a cloud of some undefinable fog, and it was only the captain’s hand on her elbow that kept her moving. As she walked through the corridors to their quarters, she thought that she must be giving some indication of her internal devastation just from the expressions of the crewmembers they passed, but no one said or did anything to impede their progress.

The next thing Seven knew, she was standing in the middle of their living area, looking around uncertainly as if she did not know where ‘here’ was exactly. Jake, she saw, had been sent to his bed by a stern command from Janeway and now he had his head propped over the edge of it, regarding her with warm brown eyes. He seemed worried about her, but he obediently remained on his belly in the doggy bed, not coming over to her as would be his normal inclination despite the captain’s order.

“Here, drink this.”

Janeway was standing by her suddenly, offering her a glass of some smokey, golden liquid. Obeying woodenly, like some construct, or even the drone she had once been, Seven took the glass, choking as the whiskey neatly burned a path down her throat. It impacted on her belly like an explosive device, and the shock of its ingestion, along with the effect of its alcoholic properties, spread a heat through her, loosening the icy chill that had gripped her so thoroughly. She gulped down the rest, and then handed the glass to Janeway who set it down on the coffee table.

Seven was aware of the captain’s concerned expression as she nudged the Borg over to the couch, urging her to sit down. Seven did, collapsing rather than actually descending to the cushions in any sort of controlled manner.

“Annika, can you hear me?”

Seven turned her gaze to where her partner knelt before her, her hands resting on her legs, leaning forward to stare with concern into the young woman’s dazed eyes.

“Yes,” she responded dully. “I can hear you.”

Janeway put her hand against Seven’s cheek, and the Borg felt the warmth of it penetrate a little more of the cold that seemed to permeate her entire body. The captain hesitated, as if not knowing the proper words. It took a few moments before she spoke.

“Annika, darling, there’s nothing I can do or say right now that can make this all right. I wish with all my heart that I could.”

“Kathryn?”

“Yes, darling?” Janeway’s voice was as gentle and compassionate as Seven could ever remember hearing. It did not make a difference. It did not make her feel better.

“Kathryn, I cannot … we will never be able to have children.” Saying the words gave them a reality that she didn’t think she could bear.

Janeway took a breath. “Darling, we can discuss this further, but for now, you need to adapt to this bit of news before we explore any other options.”

“Options? What options?” Helpless anger rose in Seven, replacing the last of the chill with a burning heat that grew hotter with every breath. “I do not want to adapt to this.” She stood abruptly, shaking off the captain’s hand as she walked away, putting a distance between her and her partner. “This is not right. It is not fair.”

“No, it isn’t,” Janeway agreed quietly, standing in the center of the room as she regarded Seven gravely.

Seven turned to her, suddenly needing to hurt someone else as much as she was suddenly hurting, no matter who it was. “You are glad,” she screamed. “You never wanted children.”

Janeway opened her mouth to speak, stopped, obviously struggling to control her initial response. “Annika,” she said in a tone so quiet that Seven almost had to strain to hear it. “You know that’s not true.”

“It is true,” Seven accused her raggedly. “You never wanted children with me. That is why you would never speak of them with me. You are happy we cannot have children.” She turned abruptly, heading for the door. “Leave me alone,” she threw over her shoulder bitterly.

She stumbled through the corridors, wanting only to be by herself, to be alone, not noticing where she was going, knowing only that she had to get away from this somehow, had to escape this awful reality. When her turmoil led her to the cargo bay, and the Borg alcoves still stored there, she did not wonder why or question it. The angular, stark construction, the greenish illumination given off by the sickly lights, gave focus to her churning emotions, and she attacked the technology with a mindless rage, smashing conduits and consoles, shattering the panels and lights, shredding cables and her own hands in the process.

When the paroxysm of fury had finally subsided, when she stood still in the middle of the destruction that littered the deck around her, clenching her bleeding hands into fists, she screamed until her voice was raw, until she was unable to make any other sound than a steady, uncomprehending keening. She wrapped her arms around herself as sobs of grief and agony shook her, the tears running unchecked down her cheeks.

Mourning the loss of the children she would never be allowed to know.

Janeway stood in her quarters, staring at the deck, crossing her arms across her chest in a hug to help stave off the overwhelming feelings of distress and unhappiness flooding her.

“Damn,” she said. “Oh, damn.”

It was a woefully inadequate appraisal of the situation but it was the best she could come up with at the moment.

Jake, who had apparently decided he could take all of this that he could stand, got up and padded over to her uncertainly, tentatively nudging his nose into her leg and whimpering pitifully. She glanced at him, and then dropped her hand to his head, scratching his silky red fur, unable to deny that the contact gave her comfort. She knelt and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him gently.

“Oh, Jake, Annika is hurting so much.”

He whined and nosed her face, licking her comfortingly. She hugged him a final time, then stood up, looking around the quarters, feeling a little lost at what to do next.

“Computer, locate Seven of Nine.”

“Seven of Nine is in cargo bay two,” the even feminine tones of the ship’s main computer stated.

Janeway tapped her comm badge. “Janeway to Tuvok.”

“Go ahead, Captain.”

“Place cargo bay two off limits until Seven of Nine is finished in there,” she requested and hoped he would not ask why.

“May I ask why, Captain?”

It appeared nothing was going to go right this day.

“Just carry out my order, Tuvok,” she said wearily.

“Yes, Captain.”

She could hear the confusion in his voice, but she knew he would obey. That was all she required at the moment. She realized that Seven needed her space, needed time to comprehend what had happened this day, but the captain didn’t want her to be totally alone. She hoped that Tuvok would wait outside the cargo bay and provide the logical compassion that Seven could accept. Despite wanting desperately to be with Seven, she knew that until the young woman could let her partner in, the captain would only do more harm than good by trying to impose her presence on her.

She had to respect Seven’s heartfelt cry. She had to leave her alone.

She checked the time, noting that it was only 1900 hours. Had it just been two hours since the end of her duty shift, and her appointment in sickbay? Two hours in which she had tracked down Seven, and the two of them had met with the Doctor where he had unloaded this news that completely changed their lives?

She shook her head. Time flies when you’re having fun, she thought without humor. Yet stretches on interminably when you’re not.

She went over to the replicator and keyed in a program for dinner. She wasn’t hungry in the least, but she knew that she had to eat. Or rather, she knew that she had to keep all her previous promises to Seven in a way she had never felt before, included that of eating regularly in a healthy manner. She took the salad tjat materialized and carried it over to the table, sitting down and forking into it without any enthusiasm at all.

She could not taste the food, content only that the solid nutrition was somehow sliding down her throat, though how it was making it past the lump that seemed permanently lodged in it was beyond her. She listlessly finished her meal and took her plate over to the recycler, startled by the sudden clunk from the dog’s dispenser as the internal timer went off, and spit out an exactly measured ration of puppy chow into Jake’s bowl. The device had been designed and built by Seven, and Janeway thought that if they ever did return to the Alpha Quadrant, the Borg could make quite a tidy living from all the little gadgets she was continually inventing to make having a pet a more efficient experience.

Janeway eyed the replicator briefly for a moment, the thought of taking the edge off her unhappiness with alcohol disturbing in the strength of its appeal. It was an effort to walk away without replicating the entire bottle of whiskey she desired so strongly at the moment.

She sat on the couch, staring blankly into the greyness of the room, acutely aware of her partner’s absence, even though the past few weeks had seen the young Borg busy with wedding plans and away from their quarters until late each night. Janeway wondered how this would affect the wedding. Should they postpone it? Call it off altogether? She realized she was occupying her thoughts with minutiae to avoid thinking about what was really going on. She forced herself to consider the ramifications of Seven being unable to have children, or even contribute to anyone else conceiving them.

Seven had not been entirely inaccurate when she said the captain had been ambivilant about the concept of children, but now that the option had been taken away, Janeway felt completely distraught. She’d been getting used to the idea; had even been looking forward to their conceiving and raising a child. She had no doubt that Seven would make a remarkable mother, and if Janeway, herself, was unable to be the parent her mother, Gretchen, had been, then the captain was convinced that at least she would not be the sort her father had turned out to be. Admiral Edward Janeway had dedicated his life to Starfleet, to protecting the Federation, and while he had been a good man and Kathryn adored him utterly, there was no question that she had resented his choices over the years. His wife and children had paid the price for his dedication, and Kathryn never wanted to be like him … even though it seemed like that was exactly who she had been turning into.

Until Seven.

Janeway thought that Seven had done more than just love her. The Borg had given Janeway back her humanity, had made her see what was truly important. It mattered little what she accomplished as either a starship commander, or a scientist, if she spent her life unloved, or if she disappointed the people she loved. She would always owe the young woman for that understanding that had come to her in her fourth decade. Not exactly late in life but certainly it was an understanding she hadn’t possessed in previous relationships.

Janeway bowed her head, feeling tears sting her eyes as she thought about the remarkable person Seven was becoming, and how it was being rewarded in such a shabby way. Her partner deserved so much better than this. She had so much love, had such a gentle and kind nature beneath that Borg exterior. Janeway thought about the offspring that would never be, the child who would not have Seven’s eyes or her narrow good looks or that natural brilliance. Who would, in fact, never exist.

Unquestionably, there were other options, but for now, Janeway wept for what would never be. Wept for her partner and herself and for what they would never know.

Hours later, she found herself curled up on the couch, a blanket thrown about her shoulders as she wrapped her arms around her knees and looked at the stars out the huge window of transparent aluminum, their gleam distorted by the ship’s warp bubble into passing streaks of light. She was dressed in a silken, navy blue nightgown, the lights having been lowered for the ship’s midnight watch. She had tried going to bed earlier, tossing and turning restlessly, but succeeded only in twisting the sheets into a wrinkled mess before surrendering to the unavoidable and returning to the living area.

To wait.

The door to her quarters hissed open and she turned her head, watching as Seven entered. The young woman was contained in a way Janeway had never seen before, her face shadowed with a maturity that came only from traumatic pain and harsh tribulation; as if she was a blade of metal, tempered in the searing heat of disappointment and pain. Her eyes were reddened, swollen as if every tear in the universe had been cried and there were simply none left to find.

“Annika,” Janeway said huskily. She wanted to ask her if she was all right, what had happened, but she sensed that anything she could say right now would be so inadequate to express either her own feelings, or draw out Seven’s, that she didn’t even want to make the attempt.

“Kathryn.”

The voice was raw, shredded, and Janeway had to force herself to remain still as the young woman crossed the room to sit in the chair facing the captain. Seven seemed unable to formulate anything further, head bowed as she stared at the floor, her hands resting palm up on her lap, limp and curled. Janeway’s breath caught as she saw the damage the young woman had done to herself.

“Annika, your hands!” She shook off the blanket and sat up, leaning forward to take the injured appendages into her own. “We have to get you to sickbay.”

“No!” It was sharp, angrily defined, and concerned, Janeway looked at her. Seven hesitated, and in a softer voice, added, “I do not want to go there. I do not wish to see the Doctor.”

Janeway thought she understood. “All right, let me get the dermal regenerator at least.”

The captain rose, going into the bedroom to fish out the medical device from a drawer in her night stand. The item had been added to their personal effects early on in their relationship after an inadvertent spasm by Seven, in the throes of passion, had drawn blood from Janeway, the mesh of her hand tearing the skin and flesh. After another incident where Seven’s implant had dug into Janeway’s back muscles, slicing her to the bone, the Borg took the most exquisite care to keep her left hand well away from Janeway whenever she felt the slightest loss of control. They had kept the regenerator, nonetheless, and Janeway was grateful for that happenstance now.

The captain returned to the living area and sat down on the coffee table, taking Seven’s hands gently onto her lap, and using the medical device to repair the damage. Seven sat quietly, passively watching as her partner healed the torn and bloody flesh, seeming uninterested in what was surely a painful process.

“What happened?” Janeway asked softly as she worked.

At first, she thought the young woman wouldn’t answer, but finally Seven spoke in a low, guttural voice.

“I went to cargo bay two. I destroyed the alcoves.”

Janeway swallowed hard. “I see.” She wasn’t sure she did.

“The Borg did this to me.” Seven’s face was bleak. “They took away our children. Why would they do that?”

“It is probably standard procedure,” Janeway said carefully. A logical, technical response might be one of the few things Seven could comprehend at a time like this. “Since the Borg have no need to reproduce by single cell fertilization, the organs were discarded as being … irrelevant.”

“I hate them,” Seven said bitterly, an uncharacteristic viciousness threading through her words. “I hate the Borg.”

Janeway finished the last of her repairs, and placed the regenerator beside her on the coffee table’s transparent surface. She took the newly healed hands into her own, squeezing them gently, hesitating as she found herself in the unexpected position of having to somehow explain and defend the Collective to Seven.

“Annika, I completely understand you feeling that way,” she said compassionately. “Certainly, I’m not going to justify what they did to you, but the Borg Collective is part of you, darling. It is part of what makes you who you are. I don’t want you to hate that part of yourself.”

Seven’s breathing was ragged, harsh. “I am very angry,” she said hoarsely. She raised her eyes to meet the captain’s, full of hurt and a soul-deep sadness. “I was angry at you,” she added regretfully. “I am sorry for that. I am especially sorry for what I said, for trying to hurt you with my words.”

“It’s already forgiven and forgotten, darling,” Janeway told her softly. “I understand your anger, really I do. I’m so very angry myself at the sheer injustice of it, but I also know that there’s nowhere to direct this anger.”

“What will we do?” Seven sounded so young, so uncertain.

“I don’t know,” Janeway admitted honestly. “I only know we should try to find a way to deal with it together.”

Seven closed her eyes and leaned forward. Janeway put her hand on the back of the young woman’s neck, allowing the head to fall forward onto her shoulder, brushing back the stray strands of hair. Her fingers fumbled at the clip that held up the rest of Seven’s white-blond tresses, freeing it so that it fell over the Borg’s back. Seven had let it grow long again after a brief exploration into a severely shorn and clipped look. The captain buried her face into the gloriously long, thick locks and held the woman close.

“I love you, Annika. We’ll make it through this.”

“I want to believe you.” Seven’s voice was small. “I cannot.”

Janeway kissed her tenderly. “You will. I know you’re having difficulty accepting that right now, but eventually you will.”

She hugged Seven tightly, resting her chin on top of the blond head, tears stinging her eyes.

“Just have faith in me, my darling,” she whispered. “I’ll see you through this.”

Seven wasn’t sure how she made it into the bedroom. Just that Kathryn was taking care of her, undressing her with tender compassion, guiding her between the sheets that the captain first had to straighten out. The young woman wondered what had caused the bedding to become so tangled, but soon lost track of that thought. It seemed as if she existed in a sort of dazed limbo, unable to concentrate on anything for very long.

She lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling and the mirror there, suddenly wishing it was gone, not wanting to see herself or the way her face looked, so lost and bleak. She closed her eyes.

“Remove the mirror.”

Kathryn paused as she was slipping off her nightgown. “I’ll have maintenance take care of it in the morning.”

Seven felt the bed sink as the captain got in beside her, and then opened her eyes when the expected body did not touch her, glancing over. Kathryn was on her side, half raised as she propped herself up on her elbow.

“May I touch you? I don’t want to intrude.”

Seven felt sudden tears well in her eyes and a sob tore at her throat as she reached out blindly to her partner. Kathryn gathered her up in her arms, holding her tightly.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Seven buried her face into the beloved warmth of her spouse, clinging to her as if she were afraid that if she didn’t, the captain would suddenly disappear. She thought she had cried all the tears she had inside while in the cargo bay, but apparently that was not the case. She had never experienced such a blow, not even when Kathryn had lost her memories and could not remember her. Then at least, she still had contact with her, was still able to be a part of her life until the captain fell in love with her once more.

This was a permanent loss, as One’s had been. Seven supposed that was when her maternal instincts first stirred, when a transporter accident involving her and the Doctor resulted in the creation of a new drone. One had looked to her for guidance and in turn, taught Seven how it felt to love someone in a way different than how she felt for Janeway. When he died, it was if her heart had been ripped out of her chest, yet this was so much worse.

Janeway did not try to say anything. She just held her, smoothing her hair, rubbing her back and kissing her gently. It took some time before Seven was able to regain some measure of composure, some sense of control over her emotions. She lay with her head resting on the captain’s chest, her arm across her torso, hugging her tightly.

“This is hurting me,” she whispered.

“I know, my love,” Kathryn responded quietly, stroking Seven’s back lightly. “I’d give anything if I could somehow make it stop. But at the same time, I’d be a lot more worried if you felt nothing. Darling, you may never be able to think of this without pain, but I promise you, it won’t always hurt this much.”

“I find that … difficult to believe.” Seven sniffed and closed her eyes, swallowing hard. “I wanted so much to have children with you. To have a family.”

“You and I can still have a family, Annika,” Kathryn told her carefully. “It might not happen in the way you planned, but there are other options for us.”

Seven was silent for long moments, torn between wanting to know those options and not yet ready to think about anything but the pain she was feeling. It was only the fact that Kathryn waited for her to request the information, rather than forcing it upon her, that allowed her to finally ask.

“What options?”

“Adoption, for one,” Kathryn explained gently. “There are many children without parents in the Alpha Quadrant at the best of times, and with the Federation fighting a war with the Dominion, there has to be even more now. I think we could easily give the same love and attention we were going to give our genetic offspring to another child who needed it, don’t you?”

Seven had never considered such a thing. She tried to imagine what would happen if Ensign Wildman died and Naomi was left alone. Would she be able to accept the girl as her own child and do her best to love her? Seven thought she could. After all, she already cared for her just by being her friend and she thought that she could do that for any child … once she got to know them.

“Besides, as far as I know, my reproductive organs are fully functional,” Kathryn added, a wry note in her voice. “I could possibly conceive and carry a fetus to term.”

Seven rose up, staring down at the captain wonderingly, searching her face. “You would do that for me?” She took a breath, hesitating. “That is why I wanted us to have children. So that no matter what happened, there would always be a part of you left with me.”

Kathryn blinked as she absorbed that. “I hadn’t thought about it from that angle.” She paused. “Are you so worried about losing me, Annika?”

“It is something I think about now.” She lowered her eyes. “I had thought I had conquered this fear, but when you lost your memories, it returned, stronger than ever. I could lose you forever, Kathryn. I know you once told me that I must find some way to survive without you, but if you were to die, I think that I must as well. I can see no other way for me to obey your request unless I was responsible for taking care of someone else. Someone that was a part of us, a part of you.”

A muscle in Kathryn’s jaw twitched and her eyes grew dark, very sad and very loving at the same time. “Annika, I think that is the most wonderful … and terrifying … thing anyone has ever said to me. I’m not even sure how I feel about it, let alone how I should respond to it.” She slipped her arms around Seven’s neck and hugged her fiercely. “I love you, Annika. I promise you, I’ll always be with you, one way or another. I don’t want you to give up just because I’m not physically present.”

Seven relaxed in the embrace, not knowing exactly what Kathryn meant, but content that the captain did mean it with all her heart. It seemed that the hurt inside her had lessened ever so slightly, that she no longer felt such a tearing agony within herself, and she was able to contemplate the alternatives that her partner had just presented.

“You would become pregnant?” Seven asked after a long moment. “For me?”

Kathryn hesitated, then kissed Seven sweetly. “Annika, I want to be a full time parent, not one that just stops by once in a blue moon while you keep the home fires burning. I hated that as a child, and I won’t have it as a parent. I have the impression that you want this child to replace me while I go off and leave you behind. That’s not how I view us having a family. I’m sorry if that hurts you, especially now.”

Seven shook her head. “It does not hurt me. It does surprise me. I always thought that, if we were to have children, I would be the primary care giver while you returned to being a captain, just as Gretchen was for you while your father was away. You have told me that being a captain is very important to you, and I accept it as being very much who you are. I would never want you to deny that part of yourself for any reason, Kathryn. Not even to be with me and our children.”

Kathryn made a small sound of disagreement in her throat. “I wouldn’t be denying myself anything, Annika. A family means being together, you, me and however many children we add to the mix. Be it on a planet or in space on a ship. I will not leave you behind, darling. You cannot ask or expect that of me.”

Seven felt unable to adjust to this new picture of their future. So instead, she hugged the captain tightly. “I love you, Kathryn.”

Kathryn kissed her gently, raising Seven’s head once more so that she could look in her eyes.. “I love you too, Annika. We’ll work this out together.” She paused, and then added quietly, “Unless you’ve changed your mind about marrying me. Have you?”

“I haven’t changed my mind,” Seven responded quickly. “I still want to marry you.” She hesitated. “Do you still want to marry me even though I can’t contribute to our having a child?”

Kathryn caught her breath, looking almost angry. “Annika, bearing a child and caring for a child are two separate things. You’ll be a terrific mother. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Seven was confused. It seemed like Kathryn was trying to tell her something beyond what her words were actually saying but the turmoil and outpouring of emotions had left her exhausted and she found she was unable to concentrate on what it might be. Wearily, she let her head fall back down to the captain’s chest and she felt Kathryn cup her cheek warmly in the palm of her hand.

“Go to sleep, love,” Kathryn suggested gently. “Tomorrow is another day and with any luck, it won’t be as bad as today was.”

Obediently, Seven closed her eyes, sinking into the warm peace that being with her partner usually granted her.

She did not know where she was or what was happening. As the ledge beneath crumbled, she fell, screaming Kathryn’s name the entire way. Reaching out for a saving hand that could not catch her.

Janeway stood in the cargo bay, hands on her hips, ruefully surveying the damage. Beside her, Tuvok waited patiently for her to speak.

“Seven said she’d destroyed them. I hadn’t realized she had been so … untidy while doing so. She’s usually a lot more efficient in carrying out any destructive tendencies.”

“I do not believe she felt efficient at the moment.” Tuvok hesitated, and then glanced at the captain surreptitiously. “Captain, I’m sorry for her loss … and for yours.”

Janeway took a breath, raising her head. “She told you?”

“After exiting the cargo bay. I made a point of speaking with her because I wished to understand what was happening. She explained her reasoning behind her actions, so I sealed the cargo bay until a decision regarding the disposal of the Borg technology could be made.” He paused. “What do you intend to do?”

Janeway sighed. “We’ll have to salvage what we can. This is Seven’s doing and like it or not, she needs to take a certain amount of responsibility for it.” A muscle twitched in her jaw and her eyes grew dark. “I’ll send her down to clean this up and repair what she can. I would ask that you keep this off limits until she’s finished.”

“Yes, Captain.” He tilted his head as he regarded her. “You must also be affected by this,” he added gently, a great deal more compassionately than at any other time in their long friendship.

Her eyes dropped. “I’ve never had much in the way of maternal instincts, but I can’t deny that to suddenly have this avenue in our future closed off … hurts in a way I’d never have expected.”

“There are other options.”

“That there are.” Janeway sighed. “We’ve discussed them superficially, but I’m not sure we’ve fully adjusted to the idea. Perhaps I was also assuming Seven was going to bear the children, and now we both have to look at things differently. Change, particularly in one’s attitude, always takes time.”

He looked pensive. “Captain, before my wife and I were able to conceive our first child, we required certain fertilization techniques. I do understand the difficulty you’re experiencing.”

“Indeed,” Janeway said with a certain amount of surprise that he would share something so personal for no other reason than to make her feel better. It warmed her that he would make such an attempt, but then he always did try to make allowances with her in a way that he wouldn’t with any other Human. It was only now, after years of being his friend, that she realized how much he had let her in, or for that matter, how much he had allowed himself to be a part of her life. “Thank you, Tuvok.”

He nodded, apparently content to leave the conversation there. She left him standing in the cargo bay regarding the spilled conduit fluids and scattered debris while she took the turbolift to the deck containing astrometrics. Seven was at work in her lab, going over the long range sensors when Janeway walked in.

The captain noted the single red rose in the crystal vase sitting proudly on the top of Seven’s console. She hadn’t told Neelix that the gesture was no longer necessary and the Talaxian continued to carry out her request that Seven receive a fresh bloom every morning, waiting for her when she began her day. Janeway wondered if she should contact the Delta Quadrant native, and cancel the request.

Or maybe I should just let it continue, Janeway told herself. Perhaps such a gesture is needed now, more than ever.

“Kathryn.” Seven’s pale eyes lit up as they always did when she saw her partner.

“Seven,” Janeway returned the greeting formally, her use of the Borg designation letting the young woman know this was not a personal call.

Seven obligingly straightened, granting Janeway her complete attention, and the captain was struck suddenly by the image of Naomi’s imitation of that motion. The child really did have the Borg’s mannerisms down to a ‘T’.

“How may I help you, Captain?”

Janeway hesitated, putting her hands on the top of the console, looking at Seven from beneath lowered brows. “Seven, I was just in the cargo bay. You need to clean that up, and any remaining technology that’s still functioning must be salvaged.”

Seven’s face assumed an expression of combined betrayal and hurt outrage.

“You cannot ask that of me.”

“I’m not asking it of you,” Janeway said firmly. “I’m ordering it.” She took a breath, and softened. “Seven, I understand completely what prompted such actions, but although I sympathize, such behavior is unacceptable. Uncontrolled anger needs to be taken to the holodeck where there’ll be no permanent damage. I just can’t excuse this.”

“You did last night,” Seven responded sullenly.

“Last night, I was your partner,” Janeway reminded her sharply. “Today, I’m the captain of a starship that can’t afford to have its crew engage in such destructive activity. Not to mention the fact that what remains of those alcoves could prove to be dangerous to any crewmember trying to dispose of it. Only you have the necessary knowledge and skill to handle the technology safely.” She paused, waiting until the young woman’s gaze had met hers. “You know this, Seven.”

Reluctantly, Seven nodded. “I do,” she agreed in a subdued tone. She looked away, and for the moment, Janeway let the captain slip aside, stepping around the console to touch her partner. She wouldn’t do this if they hadn’t been alone in the lab, so she supposed she should be glad they were.

“Annika, I’m not trying to punish you.”

Seven swallowed. “I know.” She reached out for Janeway, enfolding her into an embrace. “I should not have destroyed the alcoves.”

Janeway sighed. “Darling, I’m not arguing with your actions. I’m just telling you that you are responsible for them, as well as for any repercussions.” She leaned back her head, capturing the Borg’s gaze. “As you told me once, you have to pick your spots. This was not one of them.”

Seven buried her face in Janeway’s hair, taking full advantage of this opportunity to hold the captain. “I promise, I will be more careful in the future.”

“That’s all I ask,” Janeway murmured, snuggling against Seven. She discovered she needed this embrace almost as much as Seven did. She was shocked when Seven abruptly pushed her away a few moments later.

She barely had a chance to regain her equilibrium before the door slid open, and B’Elanna Torres entered. The captain took a breath and regarded Seven with a new respect. Apparently the Borg’s enhanced hearing was a bit better than she realized, the young woman having detected the engineer’s approach in the corridor. She reacted before the door had even opened, and thus prevented Torres from catching them in a fairly unprofessional position. Not that Janeway would be embarrassed to be seen snuggling with her partner, but there was a time and a place for such things, and the astrometrics lab, while they were both on duty, was not necessarily either.

“Captain.” Torres was frowning. “I just tried to get into cargo bay two, and Tuvok wouldn’t let me. What’s going on?”

“The Borg alcoves suffered some damage,” the captain responded evenly. “I was just about to send Seven down to take care of it.”

B’Elanna stared blankly at her. “What kind of damage?”

Seven took the Klingon’s arm, nudging her toward the door. “I shall explain on the way. Perhaps you could assist in the cleanup.”

“Sure,” B’Elanna responded, and then blinked, looking at the captain. “If that’s all right?” she added belatedly.

The young Klingon had undergone a decided alteration in her attitude towards Janeway lately, and though the captain could not remember what she had done to prompt it, she had been told that the engineer had needed disciplinary action. Certainly, the way Torres acted now was a great deal more respectful than how Janeway originally remembered her being. The captain wasn’t entirely sure she liked the change, but she didn’t know how to restore it to what it was three years ago, or even if she should. They’d both been through a lot in the past whether she remembered it or not, and the captain supposed that if they were interacting this way now, that was how it should be.

“Actually, I was just about to suggest that myself.” Janeway frowned thoughtfully at the engineer, not sure why she asked the next question, but going with the gut instinct that suddenly stirred. “Lt. Torres, have you experienced any recurring dreams recently?”

Janeway knew the answer immediately, just from the expression that crossed B’Elanna’s face.

Torres stared at the captain in great surprise. “I’m standing on a ledge that crumbles beneath me.”

“There is a door across the canyon that I must access,” Seven interjected, staring at them both oddly. “But I fall before I can discover a way across.”

Janeway looked at her. “I didn’t know you were having them as well, Seven,” she said with concern. “You never told me.”

“I did not have them until last night. The same dream kept waking me.” She hesitated. “You have also dreamed this?”

“Me and a few others,” Janeway admitted, “for a month or so now.” She looked at B’Elanna. “I don’t want to make more of this than it is, but clearly, something’s going on. I want you to ask, discreetly, if anyone else has been having these dreams … when they started, and how often they’ve been having them. Get back to me before the end of your duty shift.”

B’Elanna looked thoughtful. “Can it wait until tomorrow morning, Captain? That way I can tackle people in the messhall during dinner this evening. It would make for a more casual setting in which to bring it up.”

“You’re right, of course,” Janeway said, annoyed with herself that she hadn’t thought of that. “Tomorrow will be fine.”

B’Elanna nodded formally, then she headed for the door, Seven on her heels. Janeway was left alone in the astrometrics lab, drumming her fingers pensively on the smooth top of the console.

Wondering what the hell was going on.

“Kahless’s beard, what the hell happened here?” B’Elanna regarded the demolished Borg alcoves in utter disbelief.

Seven was unable to look at her friend, somewhat ashamed now that she was taking a second look at the damage in the cool light of clarity. Somehow, it hadn’t seemed this bad when she had walked out of the cargo bay the night before.

“I destroyed them.”

Silence, and the Borg looked over to see B’Elanna regarding her strangely.

“You did this? What the hell for?”

Taking a deep breath, Seven told her everything that had occurred the day before, of the discovery of her inability to bear children, at how she had lashed out in her anger at the Borg who had done this to her by destroying their technology.

B’Elanna’s face was stricken when Seven had finished dispassionately reciting her story. “Oh god, Seven, I’m so sorry. I didn’t … I didn’t even know you wanted children that much.”

Seven lowered her head. “Neither did I. It always seemed the next logical step, a natural progression to undertake in my life with Kathryn. Now I realize that I anticipated having a child like Naomi, but it shall never be. Kathryn has offered to provide a child for me and I shall love it but … it will not be mine.”

Seven was caught off guard as B’Elanna suddenly jerked her around, pushing her face into the startled Borg’s. “Now you listen to me, Annika Hansen,” Torres said with furious intent, eyes glaring. “Children aren’t toys, or pets, or something you bring in to fix things in your life. They’re separate individuals, completely helpless at first, who are going to depend on you to do everything for them. It doesn’t matter if they came out of your body, or you found them under a warp core containment field as long as you love them and protect them and teach them everything they need to know to become good people. Dammit, you’re their parent, not their owner, and you’d better stop thinking in terms of ‘mine’, or you’ll do that child more harm than good.”

Seven opened her mouth to respond, and then realized she was absolutely speechless. She had never seen B’Elanna so serious. Angry yes, but not like this. This was a cold anger, springing from something long ago.

“I … I do not think I understand,” she said slowly.

“Seven, it doesn’t matter where the child comes from as long as you raise it with love,” B’Elanna insisted. “Wanting genetic input, ‘my child’ vs ‘her child’… that’s just pure ego and frankly, absolutely no reason to have a kid. The only reason to want a child is because you and the captain have so much love that it’s just going to waste without someone else to share it. Then, and only then … no matter how you do it, whether biologically, accidently, or deliberately … should you allow another being into your family.”

Seven stared at her friend. “I shall consider your words,” she said slowly.

“You do that,” B’Elanna said shortly, and released her grip, which truth be told, had been starting to hurt the Borg’s arm.

It took them the rest of their duty shifts to sift through the mess, salvaging what they could, and disposing of what could not be repaired. When Seven returned to her quarters, she was still feeling considerably uncertain and confused by B’Elanna’s impassioned speech. She sat down on the deck in the living area, wrapping her arms around her knees as she leaned back against the couch. Jake promptly leaped up on the cushions behind her and rested his snout by her head, his breath ruffling her hair. That was how the captain found them when she finally completed her day on the bridge.

“What’s wrong with this picture?” Janeway said wryly as she stood, hands on her hips, looking down at them. Seven glanced up at her inquiringly, and Janeway smiled. “The dog is supposed to be on the floor. You’re supposed to be up on the furniture.”

Seven smiled faintly, and Janeway bent down, kissing the corner of that smile gently. Then the captain went over, and aquired a glass of wine before returning to displace Jake from the couch, much to the puppy’s obvious displeasure. He ungraciously curled up next to Seven, resting his head on her leg, grumbling imprecations at his other mistress. Janeway ignored him, stretching out luxuriously on her back as she reached out for the back of Seven’s head, releasing the pins that held up the long, white-blond hair, letting it spill down over the Borg’s shoulders. Seven wondered, if the captain preferred the Borg’s hair down so much, why she was not expected to wear it loose during her duty shift. It did not occur to her that Janeway might derive some form of pleasure from being able to let loose the young woman’s hair after the day’s work was complete.

“Are you still upset over having to clean up cargo bay two?” Janeway asked quietly after a period of silence.

Seven shook her head. “It was my responsibility.”

Janeway nodded briefly, stroking her partner’s tresses idly. “So what’s making you so unhappy? Besides the obvious, I mean.”

Seven turned slightly so that she was facing Janeway, her side pressed against the couch. She took a breath, searching for the words. “I have been thinking about why I wanted to have children so much. I knew my reasons, but now I wonder if they were correct.”

Janeway’s eyes took on a light grey shade. “What brought that on?”

“I was speaking with B’Elanna, and she said it was wrong for me to want children for any other reason than because I had so much love to share. The way she explained it made me realize that perhaps I was viewing any children we had as being sub-units, as being nothing more than extensions of ourselves. Yet, Naomi is not merely a sub-unit of Ensign Wildman. She is an individual, separate and distinct. The desire to have children who ‘belonged’ to me or even you, seems selfish now.”

Janeway took a sip of her wine, clearly buying herself some time to come up with a response to this. “Seven, I don’t think it’s that simple. There are many reasons for having children, good, honest reasons other than the one B’Elanna offered. But I agree that why and how you have children is not nearly as important as how you treat and raise them after they’re born. Does that make sense?”

Seven nodded. “I think I was concentrating so much on the concept of creating something that would be a part of both you and me that I neglected to consider how it would be beyond that.” She paused and looked at Janeway, her eyes widened. “Having a child, whether biologically or from other circumstances, would significantly alter our lives … far more than when you and I fell in love, and began living together.”

Janeway looked amused and Seven frowned. The captain caught it and reached out, tracing the dimple in Seven’s chin with her thumb.

“I’m sorry, Annika. I’m not laughing at you. It’s just that you’ve realized something that too many parents don’t realize until after the fact … even when they think they have everything prepared.”

Seven was curious. “Have you always known it? Is that why you were so reluctant to have children?”

Janeway shook her head. “Not really, Annika. Not in those terms. I knew that having a child is a great responsibility, and while I was actively pursuing a career in Starfleet, I simply didn’t have time for that sort of thing. But it was an abstract sort of realization, not something that I sat down, and actually decided upon. For us, I often think about what it would be like to expand our family, to bring in other beings to love, and who would love us. Certainly, I’m looking forward to that someday, but I also think it’s something we shouldn’t rush into.”

Seven leaned her head against Janeway’s side, feeling the warmth of the captain’s body through the uniform tunic and sweater. The captain ran her fingers down Seven’s cheek, and the young woman closed her eyes. “It involves so much more than what I anticipated,” the Borg said softly. “I do not understand why I did not realize it when the concept first came to me. The necessary information has always been there, but until B’Elanna spoke with me … loudly … I did not comprehend all that was involved.”

“Couldn’t see the forest for the trees,” Janeway said unhelpfully, and when Seven looked at her with confusion, the captain smiled. “Seven, we all do that from time to time. We’re so busy working out the details, we never stop to look at the big picture.”

Seven swallowed convulsively. “I am not ready to be a parent.” There was a tremor in her voice.

“Annika,” Janeway said gently, dipping her head to catch her eyes. “No one is, no matter how much preparation we think we have. Let me tell you this, there’s no question in my mind that if a child were to suddenly appear in our lives, you would instantly adapt, and be an absolutely wonderful mother. Don’t ever doubt that. But to plan for a child … no, it wouldn’t hurt us to take some time doing that. We’re still getting used to us being a family ourselves, let alone how three or four of us together would interact.”

Seven nodded, thinking about it and trying to understand it all. Janeway regarded her affectionately, patiently waiting as the young woman worked out her thoughts. Finally, Seven took a breath.

“Sometimes I feel very … inept.”

Janeway leaned forward and kissed her gently. “Welcome to Humanity, darling.”

Seven eyed her uncertainly. Was that all that was required to becoming fully Human?

“It seems a most precarious state of existence. I thought I had everything under control. Now it seems nothing in my life is certain.”

Janeway tilted her head. “How I feel for you is, darling. Always.”

Seven shook her head sadly. “Even that is uncertain. When you lost your memory, I discovered that what I thought would never change, suddenly did. It is improbable that it could happen again, but it is possible.”

Janeway ran her finger over the rim of her glass, creating a thin hum that Seven suspected she heard a great deal better than the captain did. Otherwise, Kathryn would not persist in making such an annoying sound.

“You’re absolutely right, Annika,” the captain said finally. “Nothing in this life is guaranteed. Yet, at the same time, you have to believe in certain things. How we feel about each other is one of them. Can you be content with that?”

Seven nodded. “I want to be. It is still difficult. Even when I believe in us. Even when I believe in you.”

“Yes, it is,” Janeway agreed softly. “But it’s a lot better than the alternative.”

Silence stretched between them again, each lost in their own thoughts. Seven rested her head on Janeway’s abdomen, listening to the soft gurgles that went on beneath her ear.

“You are hungry,” she noted after a while.

“A little. You?”

Seven frowned. “Not particularly.”

“We have to eat.” Janeway caught Seven’s chin between her forefinger and thumb, studying her intently. “Did you have lunch?”

Seven hesitated, then realized by doing so, she had given Janeway all the answer she required. “No,” she admitted in a low voice.

“I didn’t think so. Darling, I let you get away with no breakfast this morning, but you’re going to eat now.”

Seven sighed. “I do not feel like eating.”

Janeway’s bluish-grey eyes narrowed. “Darling, if I have to look after myself, then you have to grant me that same courtesy.”

Seven frowned, but she finally nodded. Some arguements she was always destined to lose.

Janeway replicated a platter of vegetables, cheeses and crackers surrounding a bowl of a light dip. She believed the finger foods would either take care of their nutritional needs, or stimulate their hunger for something more substantial. As she refilled her wine, and poured Seven a glass, she wondered what she could do or say to make what they were going through a little easier for Seven. Why couldn’t things go smoothly for us, she thought, somewhat crankily. Just once.

She carried the platter and the glasses back to the living area, placing the dishes on the coffee table. Jake perked up, an interested expression on his face, but a sharp word from her kept him on the other end, resting his head on the smooth surface as he eyed the platter and her with his most pleading look. Completely unmoved, Janeway stretched out on the couch once more, reaching over to retrieve a carrot stick that she speared into the dip before offering it to Seven.

“Eat,” she demanded.

Seven eyed her briefly, but obligingly opened her mouth, and took the carrot stick carefully between her teeth. That accomplished, Janeway gathered some vegetables for herself and munched on them, watching her partner approvingly as Seven started demolishing the mushrooms and the broccoli that were always her favorites on such a platter.

“Did you finish the cargo bay?”

Seven nodded. “Not everything was destroyed. We were able to repair two of the alcoves using the remaining parts from the others.”

Janeway nodded. “Good. I’d hate to be caught without a functioning alcove.”

Seven looked at her curiously. “Why? No one requires them.”

“Isn’t that what you thought the first time you had your abdominal implant removed?” Janeway asked pointedly.

Seven flushed a little. “I did. Then I was assimilated again.”

“Believe me, I don’t want that to happen, but we should have all our bases covered.” At Seven’s odd look at the simile, Janeway clarified. “We should be prepared for any event.”

Seven looked embarrassed. “That had not occurred to me when I … when I went to the cargo bay.”

“You weren’t thinking clearly. That happens. Fortunately, there was no harm done that we couldn’t repair.”

“I have never been so angry,” Seven said slowly. “Not even when I was in that prison, and those aliens were hurting you. I do not understand why.”

Janeway sipped at her wine. “I’m not sure, Annika. Maybe because in the prison, you could do something to stop me from being hurt. This is something you can do nothing about.”

“I feel helpless.” An expression of dawning realization lightened her eyes. “I do not believe I have ever really felt helpless before. Not like this.” She glanced at Janeway. “Is this the same type of anger you have when you feel completely helpless?”

“Probably,” Janeway allowed contemplatively. “There’s a fine line between frustration and helplessness, and I think until now, you’ve only experienced the former. The latter is a lot rougher to deal with, at least for me. Like you, I want to smash things. And like you, I had to learn what’s acceptable behavior when dealing with that anger.”

“I felt only frustration in my dream,” Seven revealed. “I want to get to the door and I believe that if I can only be clever enough, I can find a way.”

Janeway thought about that. “Originally I was frightened. Then I began to get frustrated, too, but now, I’m finding it all somewhat tedious. Even when I recognize it as a dream, and imagine myself as having what I consider necessary equipment, such as ropes and pitons, I only delay the inevitable.”

She did not tell Seven about the time she managed to get a rope across to snag on a projection just above the door, and swung over. Unfortunately, it seemed she misjudged the distance, and the result reminded her uncomfortably of an animated 2D film she saw in a museum once when she was a child; of a coyote in eternal pursuit of a roadrunner, of how much she probably resembled him when she slammed face first into the cliff, and slid ignominiously down the rock before waking up.

“Now,” she added, munching a celery stick, “I just jump off the ledge as soon as I realize I’m in the dream. Once I started doing that, the dreams lessened in both frequency and intensity.”

“Is that what you suggest I do?”

Janeway blinked. “I don’t know, Annika. Obviously, the fact that so many people are having the same dream is significant, but I haven’t figured out why. As time goes by, I wonder how important it is. Certainly, the dreams don’t seem to be causing any real harm beyond the initial disturbance, and now I believe that’s more a result of having the same dream over and over, as well as the experience of the first few falls. The dream itself, isn’t really all that frightening. It does bother me that you’ve suddenly started to have them.”

“Something changed for me to begin having them long after you and the others did.” Seven sipped her wine, her eyes distant as she thought. “The only thing I can think of is that I discovered I could not conceive offspring.”

Janeway studied her closely, wanting to know how much it was still affecting her partner. Seven seemed somewhat easier with it a day later, and even the strongest of blows were something she seemed to rebound from relatively quickly. Janeway knew the young woman was a remarkably adaptable being, but she wouldn’t accept such an easy a conclusion. She silently vowed to keep an eye on her lover, wanting to be there if the slightest hint of distress was indicated in Seven’s behavior.

“That was a loss.” Janeway pursed her lips. “I wonder … I lost my memories. B’Elanna lost Chakotay. Naomi lost her teddy bear.”

Seven looked at her. “Do you think that is the trigger? A loss of some kind?”

Janeway shook her head briefly. “I don’t know. I’m just thinking out loud, darling. Not everyone is having the dream, so those that are, must have something in common. I’m just trying to guess what, and once we have more information, we’ll be able to come up with better conclusions.”

Seven acquired some more cheese and crackers as her face grew still, distant as she tangled mentally with the problem. Janeway eased back on the cushions, enjoying this exchange of ideas between them. This might be one of the primary reasons she had fallen in love with Seven. She honestly liked her as a person, and truly enjoyed being with her. They had developed a deep friendship, with a comfort level that the captain had never experienced with anyone else. Even the most mundane of circumstances, such as relaxing here in their quarters, snacking on finger food, and quietly talking, granted her a great joy. There was a sense of belonging in being with Seven, a warmth that permeated the very air around them.

“Hey,” she said softly.

Seven glanced at her, raising an eyebrow inquiringly.

“I adore you.”

The smile then, wide and rich and so very rare, one only the captain was able to draw from the young woman, spreading across the stern features to bestow a glow of happiness that reached out and grabbed Janeway’s heart in a grip that was almost painful in its intensity. Seven moved closer and Janeway tilted her head so that they could kiss, a tender, sweet kiss that filled the captain with joy.

“I love you,” Seven assured her once they had parted. She searched the captain’s face, and Janeway was granted another of those glowing smiles. “I will enjoy being married to you.”

Janeway eyed her curiously. “Do you think things will change all that much?”

Seven’s brows drew down a little. “I believe the perception of us will. Have you noticed that people are already treating us in a different manner?”

Janeway’s eyes widened. “I thought I was imagining it.”

Seven rose from her spot next to the sofa and stretched out next to the captain, who obligingly shifted to make room for her, the Borg perched somewhat precariously on the edge of the cushions. “I believe that this ceremony is very important, more than we realized. Everyone is affected by the formality of it … the permanence it implies. I think that as long as we were only engaged, there was the possibility that we would not remain together.”

“A marriage certificate is no guarantee of anything,” Janeway pointed out.

“No, but it signifies that we believe in the permanence of our relationship. I do not think I understood that until I began planning this.” She hesitated and looked apologetic. “I know I have been leaving you out of some of those plans. I am sorry. It was never my intention.”

Janeway kissed her gently. “Annika, you just continue to explain to me everything that you’re doing, and I’ll let you know if I want to add or remove anything.”

“I shall,” the Borg promised. She glanced over her shoulder. “I am going to fall.”

Janeway pulled her closer. “I won’t let you fall.” She smiled and kissed her gently. “Of course, this sort of thing would be a trifle easier in the bedroom.”

Seven’s eyebrow quirked. “What ‘sort of thing’?”

Janeway frowned, wondering if she was being teased, and then suddenly they were slipping off the couch, landing on the deck with a muted thud. Jake yelped as he had to make a quick exit from beneath their falling bodies, skittering across the room before looking back at them admonishingly. The captain started to laugh, breathlessly struggling to escape the tangle and rise to her feet.

Seven, lying on her back, made a half hearted grab for her. “You said you would not let me fall,” she pointed out in a vaguely accusing tone.

Janeway grinned, looking down at her with her hands on her hips. “I guess what I meant was that I wouldn’t let you fall alone.”

“Ah, a misrepresentation.” Seven made another lazy swipe for the smaller woman that the captain neatly avoided. “I believe I deserve some compensation for such falsehood.”

Janeway looked down at her, hands on her hips, tilting her head slightly.

“I guess you’d have to catch me first.”

She abruptly sprinted for the bedroom, delighted when Seven immediately sprang from the floor and pelted eagerly after her, catching her just as they entered the other room, their momentum carrying them through the air to land heavily on the mattress. Janeway was considerably gratified that the bed was made of sturdy materials. She wiggled beneath her partner, testing the grip the young woman had on her wrists, pinning her down.

“Now, about my compensation,” Seven noted evenly, looking down at her captive with pale eyes that warmed Janeway through.

The captain lowered her brows. “I think that Ferengi from your subconscious is starting to show up again.” She tried to lift her head up high enough to grab a kiss.

Seven drew back, forestalling the attempt. It was clear she was in command here, and rather liking it.

“He would require latinum and oomax. I require so much more than merely having my ears caressed.”

Janeway smiled widely. “Then I guess I’ll have to see what I can come up with.”

Seven regarded the ceiling contemplatively, feeling her heartbeat finally slow its rapid pace, her breathing becoming more even as Janeway slumped against her, the captain’s perspiration covering them both, drying in the cool air. Janeway shivered and Seven reached down to pull the bedding up around them, making a warm little nest for them both before resuming her puzzled inspection of the ceiling.

“What happened to the mirror?”

Surprised, Janeway raised her head off Seven’s chest. “You told me you wanted it removed. I had maintenance take it away this morning.”

Seven vaguely remembered saying something to that effect the previous evening, but she didn’t think Janeway would take it so seriously. Apparently, the captain had acted on the wish immediately. That was something that Janeway was prone to do ever since they had fallen in love a second time. This new Janeway was an incredibly thoughtful and loving person.

Seven’s innate honesty forced her to correct the assessment. It was easy to conclude that the captain was much nicer and warmer since losing her memories, but there had also been a gentleness and caring displayed toward Seven prior to the event that perhaps the young woman was not acknowledging. After all, the captain had seen fit to install the mirror in the first place at Seven’s request, had done little things like having Neelix hold dances rather than talent nights, had found a multitude of presents for Seven’s birthday. Perhaps that previous Janeway was not as comfortable or as easy in showing her emotion as she was now, but Seven had no doubt that she had completely loved her.

It was possible that the loss of her memories had simply allowed Janeway to suddenly be the person she wanted to become, rather than the one she had been struggling to evolve into. Seven thought about that for a long moment, decided she rather liked that perception, and hugged her partner close.

“Kathryn?”

“Hmm?” Janeway had settled close to Seven, and was on the verge of dozing off.

“I love you.” Seven paused. “I wish I had more words. Why do Humans have so many words for aggression, and so few for love?”

Janeway yawned. “I don’t know, darling. Maybe it’s easier to describe hating than it is to express how incredibly wonderful it is to love someone and to be loved by them.”

“Perhaps I shall create a new word for how I feel for you. One beyond love.”

“What’s beyond love?” Janeway asked sleepily.

“How I feel for you,” Seven responded promptly.

Janeway laughed. “That’s a circular argument, my dear.”

“Perhaps, but it is a concept I shall pursue nonetheless.” She paused. “I wonder if this is what B’Elanna meant. To have so much love that it just goes on and on without end, so that others must be brought in to share in it.”

“Probably.” Janeway shifted so that she was more to Seven’s side, tucked neatly into the embrace of the Borg’s left arm.

“You are going to sleep,” Seven accused lightly.

“Doing my best,” Janeway muttered agreement. “Is there some reason I shouldn’t?”

Seven considered it. “No,” she allowed in a gentler tone. “No reason.”

She smiled as she felt Janeway snuggle closer against her, her breathing smoothing out almost immediately. The captain had completely recovered from her ordeal in the prison, and now tended to sleep through the night without pause. The Doctor had explained that most of Janeway’s wounds were psychological rather than physical, but time and Seven’s love would quickly heal them. She was gratified that he had been correct, though she was less pleased with him that he had not told her about her reproductive system sooner.

She supposed that he had his reasons, and that she should not be annoyed with him. It was counterproductive and hardly made things better, but she did not know how to resolve the anger she felt toward the hologram. She would have to eventually, for Kathryn’s sake if not her own. The captain was uncomfortable when her crew did not get along, and would expect her to work it out with the Doctor.

Seven took a breath and looked at the ceiling. She decided she did not really miss the reflection above her. In the beginning it had been exciting to watch Kathryn make love to her, but over time, it had become commonplace, and eventually she stopped watching altogether, finding more pleasure in concentrating on her partner rather than on the visual aid. Perhaps it was something that should have been used infrequently, on special occasions to stimulate their love life, rather than as a constant complement. For that, the large mirror in the ensuite was more than suitable, and she felt a tingle as she thought about it. She still remembered how it had been making love standing in front of it, but Kathryn likely did not. It would be enjoyable to introduce her to that experience.

She heard Jake shift around in the outer room, and she noted that she could hear each of his individual claws rasp over the carpet. All her senses were becoming more acute as time passed, and she wondered if she should mention it to Kathryn. Of course, Janeway would probably insist that she see the Doctor about it. Seven simply wasn’t ready for that yet.

She would wait until she settled things with him.

Her thoughts grew more disjointed, scattering as she mused over her upcoming nuptials, sleep drawing her into dreams without her being aware of it. She drifted through visions of weddings and children, not sure when the dream suddenly altered, only aware of the cold, driving rain suddenly battering her face.

I am dreaming, she thought, with a sudden clarity that she had never before experienced in this state. Perhaps it was because she had discussed it so much with Kathryn before going to bed.

She concentrated, and there was a rope in her hand, just as her partner had suggested. She attached it to the rock above her head, unconcerned by the fact that there was now a projection there she had never notice. Tying the other end into a loop, she ignored the ledge steadily crumbling beneath her, and that her footing was growing progressively more unstable. She tossed the loop across the gorge with unerring accuracy, catching it on the protrusion set just above the door. She reached up and grabbedthe outstretched rope just as the last of the rock disintegrated beneath her feet, leaving her dangling over nothing.

Calmly, she propelled herself hand over hand across the chasm, ending up on the ledge on the other side. She did not stop to study the engravings, the urge to enter the door much stronger here than on the other side. She reached out and grasped the metal handle, pushing against it. The door swung open easily, and she stepped into the darkness beyond.

There was a flicker of light and she waited patiently as it approached, coalescing into a figure, tall, slender, pale, dressed in long robes. The features were long and narrow, the eyes a solid sapphire blue while silver hair flowed from a single knot at the apex of the skull down the being’s back. When it spoke, its voice was like music, flowing around Seven like water.

“Welcome. We’ve been waiting for you.”

Surprised, Seven tilted her head. “For me?”

“For someone who has lost as we have. Only you could know our story. Only you would understand it, and be able to pass it on. We touch so many minds as they pass by, but only someone like you would maintain your interest, or continue to try to reach us.”

“What is it that grants me this ability?”

“Come with me,” the being said, gesturing down what Seven now saw was a tunnel. “We shall explain. You shall be told it all.”

Seven followed the being down the short tunnel to where it opened into a gigantic cavern, so huge that its far boundary was lost in the distance. There were row upon row of tables upon which snowy white sheets covered small, unidentifiable lumps.

Seven glanced at the being, noting the huge crystalline tears that ran from the glowing eyes. “See this. Know our story.”

As it related how it all came about, Seven understood and wept, both for herself and for these people and all they had lost.

She woke up crying, much to the concern of her partner who was holding her close, staring at her in the illumination of morning watch.

Janeway’s eyes were dark with concern. “Annika, are you all right? What’s wrong?”

Seven fought to compose herself, clinging to the captain tightly.

“I understand now. I know what the dreams mean.”

She stifled a sob. “Oh, Kathryn, it is so terrible.”

Captain Janeway sat at the head of the table in the conference room, observing her senior staff with impassive interest. She took note of how and where they were all sitting, assessing their demeanor, and judging how the information she was about to reveal would affect them. She knew it had certainly affected her. Her insides were still twisted up, and it took an effort to keep her eyes level, her face calm and unaffected.

Chakotay entered the room, and he handed her a padd before taking a seat on her left. On her right, Tuvok raised an eyebrow, faintly inquiring as she perused it. She knew the Vulcan must be as curious as everyone else, though he hid it much better. Beyond Chakotay, Neelix and the Doctor waited quietly for the meeting to begin, while across from them, B’Elanna and Harry Kim were deep in conversation. Tom Paris sat beyond them and Seven sat in her customary spot at the far end of the table, directly facing the captain.

Janeway made a mental note of how Seven kept looking away, and unconsciously leaning to the side every time the Doctor glanced in her direction. Seven had been avoiding the Doctor ever since that day in his office, and it was clear that she didn’t want to sit so close to him. Despite having been the bearer of bad tidings, Janeway knew the Doctor truly cared for Seven, acting as her mentor in the beginning, and this had to be causing him more than a little difficulty. She would undoubtedly have to speak to both of them before long.

“I don’t know how many of you are aware that members of the crew have been experiencing a certain recurring dream,” she said, taking control of the staff meeting just that easily, simply by starting to speak. “The images begin with the dreamer standing on a ledge on the side of the cliff, unable to cross a chasm that prevents the dreamer from opening a door on the other side. Yet the dreamer feels impelled to open it, with a need that is almost painful in its intensity. The ledge proceeds to crumble, the dreamer falls, and the person inevitably awakes. We have discovered that 15 people on Voyager have been going through this, including myself, B’Elanna, and Seven.”

Tuvok cleared his throat slightly and she eyed him, raising an eyebrow.

“Sixteen people, Captain. I too, have been experiencing such a dream.”

Janeway nodded briefly, wondering what it was that he had lost. From what she could gather from B’Elanna’s report, and from those she had spoken with, an emotional loss appeared to be the recurring theme; even if on occasion, the loss seemed insignificant such as Naomi having lost her favorite toy. Though Janeway supposed, it had been quite distressing to the child until Neelix had finally been able to find it in a corner of holodeck two. She sought out the eyes of her partner who was looking back at her, a shadow drifting across those pale irises.

“Three nights ago, Seven of Nine discovered what was behind the dreams.”

Intrigued, startled, everyone focused their attention on Seven who, at Janeway’s encouraging nod, began to speak in a quiet tone.

“They are called the Qurelinin. The last of their kind died out in this sector some two thousand years ago, but they left behind a message to those who pass near enough. They wanted to tell their story in an attempt to warn others of following in their path of destruction. The transmission arrived in the form of electrical impulses that matched certain of the REM patterns of specific humanoid species, appearing to many as a dream, or a vision. But unless the dreamer was motivated or properly prepared to accept and understand the message, they would not receive the full transmission.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” Tom Paris interrupted at this point. “‘Prepared’?”

“The people who experienced the dreams all suffered a loss of some sort in the recent past,” Janeway said. “In my case, it was my memories, my sense of who I was. Other people had lost cherished items or had just ended romances.” She very carefully did not look at either B’Elanna or Chakotay. The fact that B’Elanna had experienced the dream, while Chakotay had not, was clear indication that the Klingon had considered their breakup a true loss and the first officer didn’t. Or perhaps he had just made peace with it quicker. It was not for the captain to say.

“Is that why you requested we check out that planet two days ago?” Harry asked suddenly.

Janeway nodded. “It was our belief that it had been their home planet at one time. The artifact you scanned was a transmitter of sorts.”

The morning after Seven’s revelation, Janeway had the ship’s long range sensors scan for anything in the vicinity, discovering a system a few light years away that the ship had passed by weeks earlier. Janeway supposed Voyager was almost beyond its range, and if Seven has not discovered what she had, the dreams would have died out altogether, with them never knowing why their sleep had been disturbed. The Delta Flyer, with Harry Kim, B’Elanna, Tom and Seven, had been dispatched to back track their course, and a quick scan of the planet had revealed a cavern deep inside a mountain. There had been nothing inside other than dust, and a strange mechanism, which closer examination revealed was the dream transmitter. Seven recognized the cavern from her dream, though it no longer contained row upon row of small, dead bodies.

“The Qurelinin were a relatively long lived species, but it was not enough for them,” Seven went on softly. “They wished to live longer, to effectively become immortal, and in this pursuit, they devoted most of their scientific resources to discovering a method to cease the aging process. They succeeded.”

“At an awful price,” Janeway said quietly when Seven paused, drawing the staff’s attention to the captain so they would not see the struggle her partner underwent in order to compose herself before continuing.

“They discovered that they could absorb the energy of others, increasing their life span the corresponding amount of years that the other had remaining. It did not take them long to realize that the younger the being the energy was drawn from, the longer the life span of the one absorbing it.”

“They became a form of parasite,” the Doctor noted.

“More like a vampire,” Harry commented, looking a little ill.

Janeway lifted her chin. “Their children became their primary source of life energy, so much so that offspring were being conceived and borne simply to extend the life of their parents.”

Shock edged the crew’s faces as the true horror of where this was going finally dawned on them.

“Oh, my God.” B’Elanna shot Seven a compassionate look. Janeway realized the engineer knew why Seven had been the one ‘chosen’ to uncover the secret behind the Qurelinin dream message.

“Eventually, the adults aged beyond their ability to have children, and they fell upon each other until finally, only a few survivors who had come to realize the consequences of their actions, remained.” The captain folded her hands on the table. “They created this message in the hopes that others would be warned, but they believed that only one who had experienced a similar loss could truly understand the folly of what they had done, and explain it to others.”

“That was Seven?” Chakotay said, looking at the Borg uncertainly. “You’ve experienced this sort of loss?”

Seven took a breath, and Janeway was about to interfere, change the subject, divert the topic but the Borg looked directly at the first officer.

“I too, believed I had lost my children.” She glanced at Janeway. “But unlike the Qurelinin, I have come to realize that their real loss was not in destroying themselves, but in having forgotten the true reasons for having children. To love and to cherish them more than themselves. They did not understand that it was not their immortality they had lost, but their future.”

Seven shook her head sorrowfully. “Even in the end, they still mourned the loss of their own lives, and not the children they had sacrificed. I can translate their message, but I shall never truly understand it.”

“All the reports of this, including those of the away team, have been downloaded into your padds.” Captain Janeway brought the incident to a close. She supposed she should be grateful that it had all turned out so … well, unthreatening in the end, though she knew it would take some time before her partner was over the emotional fallout of the past few days. “Please assure anyone in your respective departments that it’s unlikely there’ll be any further dreams of this nature.” She paused, regarding them a few seconds. “If there’s nothing further, then you’re all dismissed.”

“A moment, Captain,” Chakotay interjected.

Since no one had stirred at her dismissal, Janeway knew that her crew had been expecting this, and she experienced a mild sort of annoyance. She hated it when other people seemed to know what was going on and she didn’t.

“Go ahead.”

“There’s been a lot of rumors and talk and speculation over the past few weeks regarding a certain upcoming event, but absolutely nothing official.” Her first officer’s voice was serious, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. “Don’t you think it’s time to fill in the crew?”

Startled, Janeway looked at Seven, and was surprised to find the Borg was smiling faintly. She took a breath, regarding her senior staff with slight exasperation.

“If you insist.” She attempted to look more blasé than she really felt. “During the Prixin celebration, Seven … Annika … and I shall be solidifying our union with a formal ceremony binding us as a couple.” She paused, regarding them sardonically. “Yes, you’re all invited. Neelix, if you would be so kind as to tender some sort of formal announcement?”

“Actually, Captain,” he said, pulling a white rectangle from his jacket. “We’re prepared to send out the invitations to every crewmember immediately. Pending your approval of the final version, of course.”

He handed her the envelope, and feeling every eye in the room on her, she slid out the card, opening it up to read the interior.

“Out loud,” the Doctor suggested cheerfully.

She shot him a look, but obliged him as well as her partner who was regarding her with bright, expectant eyes. Janeway supposed it certainly wasn’t anything she was ashamed of, so in a proud voice, she recited:

“You are cordially invited

to attend the commitment ceremony

of

Kathryn,

daughter of

Admiral Edward and Gretchen

Janeway

to

Annika,

daughter of

Doctors Magnus and Erin

Hansen

on the first night of the

3456th Prixin Celebration.”

She found herself looking at Seven, grinning rather foolishly before realizing what she was doing, and had to take a few seconds to compose her features into a more serious expression. She felt heat rise in her cheeks, and knew she must be blushing.

“Why, Captain, you’re all aglow,” the Doctor noted helpfully.

“Thank you,” she said in a tone of deep irony. “I was concerned not everyone would notice.”

Chakotay was leaning back in his chair, his eyes bright with humor, though he kept his lips firmly pressed together. Tom Paris and Harry Kim were not so circumspect, grinning openly as was B’Elanna and. Neelix. Seven … Seven looked as she always did, calm, cool but with the unmistakable warmth in her eyes that it seemed only the captain ever saw.

“Now, if I’m quite done entertaining you all, I do have some duties to attend to,” Janeway said dryly.

Taking the hint, there was a rustle as they started to their feet, heading for the door. A quiet word to Tuvok and Chakotay kept the two men lingering in the conference room, and they looked at her expectantly once the door had shut on the others.

“Gentlemen, I’m apparently expected to have two or three of my closest friends stand with me during the ceremony.” She spoke briskly, trying to make this as professional as possible. “I would be honored if you’d fulfill that requirement.”

She was surprised when Chakotay swept her up in a big hug. “You bet, Kathryn.” He smiled down at her. “I understand it’s a Klingon tradition to make sure we’re there to keep you from running, or if necessary, clear the way if you need to run.”

“Ah,” she said, flustered. “I had wondered.”

Tuvok nodded, his dark eyes glowing slightly. “I would honored to stand by you, Captain.”

“Well, I’m glad that’s settled.” Janeway eyed them both as they stood there, looking at her. “You can go now. I promise I won’t try to run.”

Chakotay smiled. “Where could you run to, Kathryn, that Seven couldn’t find you?”

Epilogue

Seven of Nine sat in her quarters, toying with the padds that were scattered over the coffee table in front of her. She knew she was supposed to be resting, but she had been too restless, coming here to work. Her thoughts kept drifting away to a species that was so self absorbed, they had sacrificed their own children for themselves. She wondered if that was what she had been doing, sacrificing a child of Kathryn and herself on the alter of her own survival, requiring a part of Kathryn to live on in order to give her a reason to live. Was that not just as self serving and arrogant as the Qurelinin.

There was so much she did not understand about some things, she thought. So much she had to learn about herself, Kathryn, and all the other people that made up the pattern of their lives … and would perhaps make up that pattern in the future.

“Annika?”

She looked up to see a robed Janeway standing in the doorway to their bedroom, hair mussed, a sleepy expression on her face, rubbing her eyes like a child, and the Borg felt a wave of tenderness sweep through her.

“Yes, Kathryn?”

“Are you coming to bed?” her partner asked, regarding her with concern.

Seven nodded. “Presently.”

“Are you afraid of going to sleep?” Janeway asked bluntly. “I don’t think there are going to be any more nightmares.”

Seven smiled a bit wryly. “At least, not of the Qurelinin.”

Janeway hesitated, and then came over to take the Borg’s hands, tugging her off the couch. “Come to bed.”

Seven allowed herself to be led into the bedroom, warmed by the feeling of Janeway’s arm wrapped tightly around her waist as she rested her own across the smaller woman’s shoulders. The captain paused by the bed, tossing her robe onto the foot of the bed as the Borg watched her. Janeway caught her eye and smiled gently.

“I promise, I’ll protect you from all the bad dreams.”

“Can you protect me from the bad reality, Kathryn?”

Janeway sobered and reached out for Seven, enfolding her into an warm embrace.

“Annika, darling, sometimes you just have to get through the reality until it becomes nothing more than a bad dream,” the captain told her partner quietly. “And other times, you work like hell to make wonderful dreams become an even better reality.” She kissed her gently on the chin. “In one week, you and I shall be married. I can’t imagine a better reality than that.”

Seven bent her head, resting her cheek against the captain’s temple, loving her utterly.

“Neither can I, Kathryn,” she admitted, smiling into the dark.

“Neither can I.”

The End

Back to Season Two

On to Just Between Promises

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Epilogue