This is the 14th installment in the series that refuses to die. This is what I call the wedding episode and took a great deal of evil pleasure with the details.

Please be warned, the saccharin level in this is such that anyone with high blood sugar should perhaps steer clear.

Please note there is a love scene in here that is quite explicit. Not that I haven’t written explicit love scenes before, but a definite male element crept into this one. Sort of. Not everyone might be comfortable with that.

Appreciation goes out to Shaych who provided the title.

This story was written and posted around the first of February, 1999 … in time for Valentine’s Day evil grin.

Just Between Promises

G. L. Dartt

The dress was snowy white, long and sleek with lace scattered over the front and shoulders. It hung gracefully within the closet, patiently waiting to fulfill its destiny; to be worn by a bride who would not necessarily be blushing, but certainly would be fully aware of the situation’s significance. Seven of Nine, late of the Borg Collective, regarded it somberly, feeling tiny flutters ripple through her stomach and wondered, if she felt this way the day before, how she would ever survive the actual ceremony itself.

She was a formidable figure, standing six feet tall in her heels with white-blond hair done up in an austere bun and pale eyes the color of blue ice. Metallic gray implants framing the left eye and adorning the right cheek just in front of her ear gave stark reminder of her time in the Borg Collective, while the brown mesh outfit covering her curvaceous form made her appear imposing and severe. Glancing at her reflection in the huge mirror over the sink counter, Seven tried to understand how she could look so calm and collected on the outside when she felt like she was going to projectile vomit at any second.

When the idea had been introduced by her partner that they be married during Prixin, the Talaxian holiday celebrating family, Seven had been immediate in her agreement. Throwing herself eagerly in all the preparations such a ceremony required, she collaberated with others in the crew, namely B’Elanna Torres, Samantha Wildman and her daughter Naomi as well as the ship’s medical assistant, Sek, all of whom either had some experience with the situation, or were full of ideas and eager to help. In her zeal, Seven had left the captain out of the bulk of the planning stage, but Janeway didn’t appear to mind, and in fact, actually seemed relieved that Seven was looking after everything. Now the planning and preparation was at an end, and all Seven had to do now was wait. And anticipate.

With anticipation, came an unusual queasiness.

Seven wondered if this was what was known as nervousness. Assimilated by the Collective at age six and spending eighteen years as a Borg drone before being isolated and cut off from the unified mind by Janeway, with whom she had subsequently fallen in love, there was still much about being Human that Seven did not quite comprehend. Participating in a wedding, about to begin her life in what was, apparently, a new state of existence, made her quite uncertain about everything she was feeling now.

“Seven?”

Seven was startled by the sudden appearance of her partner in the ensuite doorway. She had not even heard the woman come into their quarters, a decided abnormality considering the fact that her senses, particularly her hearing, were greatly enhanced by the Borg implants and nanoprobes still infesting her body.

“Kathryn,” she responded, a little more faintly than she intended. “I did not realize your duty shift had ended.”

Captain Kathryn Janeway, though smaller and more compact than her partner, was quite formidable in her own way, radiating an authority and presence that impressed her peers and intimidated everyone else. Her level blue-grey eyes were perplexed as she regarded her partner, and she tilted her head slightly, her voice softening.

“Is something wrong, Annika?”

That was Seven’s Human name, the one designated her by her parents all those years ago. Though Seven had allowed others to call her by that unfamiliar name … B’Elanna, the ship’s security chief, Tuvok, and Naomi … the captain was the only one who used it on a regular basis. And then, because it was only when they were both off duty or alone, it seemed more a term of endearment than a designation.

Seven swallowed. “I believe I am … nervous.”

A faint smile ghosted over Janeway’s lips. “About tomorrow?”

Mutely, Seven nodded and Janeway moved into the room, sliding her arms around the tall blonde’s waist. “There’s no need to be,” the captain said gently, looking up at her with the warm glow of adoration in her eyes. “I love you and you love me. That will never change. All tomorrow does is make our relationship a formal declaration to the rest of society.”

Seven pulled the smaller woman closer to her. “I am aware that we have lived as a couple and a family unit for several months, and that we shall continue to do so after tomorrow. I know that nothing shall really change between us yet … I still feel as if it will. And I am … apprehensive.” She frowned. “I do not know why.”

“Jitters.” The corner of Janeway’s mouth curled in amusement. “I would have thought your Borg background would have made you immune, but apparently you’re going to be like every other bride in the course of human history.”

Seven took a breath. “It is not pleasant,” she complained. She looked down into her lover’s face curiously. “Are you nervous?”

Janeway eased away from the embrace and went over to the sink, looking at herself in the mirror as she adjusted her hair and straightened the red and black tunic with a quick tug on the hem. “I’ve faced Borg, Species 8472, and the Hirogen. I’ve stood before Review Boards and explained my actions before more admirals than I’d care to think about. What would I have to be nervous about?”

Which did not necessarily answer her question, Seven noted. Indeed, the very act of Janeway fussing with her hair and uniform was not something the Borg was accustomed to seeing from her partner, but she chose not to point that out. Instead, she moved closer to the captain, coming up behind her to capture the blue-grey glance with her own in their combined reflection.

“I must go out this evening.” Seven felt a sense of unease steal over her. “B’Elanna has planned something called a ‘bridal shower’. I am not sure what that is, but it is supposedly a tradition of sorts, and for some reason, you cannot attend even though you are also a bride.”

Janeway smiled easily at her in the mirror. “Darling, that’s perfectly fine with me. I’m quite content to spend a quiet evening here. There are a few reports I should wrap up before tomorrow, especially if I’m not returning to duty for a full week.”

Seven nodded. The captain seemed sincere in her relief not to be attending the party, but it still bothered the young woman. She did not like being separated from Kathryn, even in this sort of situation. Carefully, she leaned down and kissed Janeway on the back of her neck, brushing back the rich auburn hair to press her lips against the soft skin.

“There is a part of me that wishes that we could spend this last evening together,” she murmured. “Just you and I.”

Janeway shivered a little, and Seven could see the captain close her eyes, a tiny grin curling the corner of her mouth. “That would be wonderful,” Janeway responded in the low, husky tone that never failed to thoroughly thrill the Borg. “But there are all kinds of traditions surrounding this event, and I suppose, since we only intend to go through it once, we should celebrate them all. Besides, we do have the honeymoon for this sort of thing.”

“I am looking forward to it,” Seven whispered and gently pulled Janeway around so that she was facing her directly. Bending her head, she kissed her partner, slowly, deeply, lingering over the wine shaded lips with a quiet pleasure. Janeway returned the kiss, pressing her body against her as Seven lost herself in their embrace.

The sound of the chime to their quarters interrupted the moment and regretfully, Seven released the captain.

“Was B’Elanna meeting you here?” Janeway asked quizzically as they exited the ensuite and the bedroom to the main room of their quarters.

Their Irish Setter, Jake, was standing before the entrance, his tail waving gently as he eyed the door expectantly. Seven had to nudge him aside as she answered it.

Chakotay stood there with a large vegetable platter in his arms while behind him, the ship’s navigator, Tom Paris, operations officer, Harry Kim, the security chief, Tuvok, and assorted other members of the crew also waited expectantly, burdened with additional items of food and bottles of various colored liquids.

Seven glanced back at the captain, raising an eyebrow.

“I believe it is for you.”

Janeway stared in astonishment as Seven made her exit and a good portion of her crew filed in. Laughing, chattering, making a big fuss over Jake, they took over the captain’s quarters before she could object. Quickly and professionally, they removed all the statues and knickknacks off the tables and shelves, storing them neatly in one corner of the room before refilling the cleared surfaces with a huge variety of food and liquor. Tom Paris shoved a large glass brimming with some sort of golden liquid into Janeway’s hand and smiled widely at her.

“Don’t worry, Captain,” he promised her. “We’ll clean it all up before we leave.”

Stunned, she automatically raised the glass to her lips, choking a little as the whiskey and soda hit her tonsils, burning its way down her throat. She hadn’t even known that her crew was aware of the combination she preferred when indulging. She eyed Chakotay who drifted over to her, raising an eyebrow at the impertinent grin creasing his dark, handsome features. His tribal tattoo crinkled as he put a companionable hand on her shoulder.

“Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is,” she said to him in a warning tone.

His grin grew bigger. “Honestly, you don’t think we could have let you get married without a bachelor party, did you?”

“How did I become the ‘bachelor’?” Janeway asked testily.

“I think it’s because you’re the captain, Captain,” Harry Kim said without thinking. “Seven has always been more … well … I mean, Seven’s more …”

He faltered, stumbling as he heard what was coming out of his mouth. The boyish Paris took pity on his friend, slapping him on the back.

“Take another drink, Harry.” Tom grinned at Janeway. “Honestly Captain, it’s only because Seven’s wearing the dress and you’re wearing the uniform. Otherwise, you could easily have been at the bridal shower B’Elanna’s throwing down the hall and Seven could be here, at the stag bash. Don’t worry, I suspect most of the crew will attend both at one point or another throughout the evening. It’s not like we’re having exotic dancers or anything.”

“Glad to hear it,” she said with honest relief. She glared at Chakotay. “If I had known you were going to do this, I would have requested that only Tuvok stand with me.”

“Actually Captain,” the dark skinned Vulcan in question interjected at that moment, suddenly appearing at her side, “I suspect that I shall find this tradition quite fascinating.”

“Et tu, Tuvok?” Janeway said, looking up at him. “You’re in on this?”

“It is your last night of being unmarried.” The tips of his pointed ears caught the light as he tilted his head slightly. “While I spent this time in solitary meditation, you are hardly the sort to do so.”

“I don’t think I’m the sort to party with wild abandon either,” she objected, taking another sip of her whiskey and soda. “I hope B’Elanna has no intention of getting Seven intoxicated the night before the ceremony.”

“I don’t believe B’Elanna has any intention of doing that,” Chakotay assured her, putting his arm around her shoulders. “Besides, Seven’s a big girl, Kathryn. She wouldn’t do anything that you wouldn’t.” He raised his glass and projected his voice. “So here’s to our resident Borg. May you and Seven of Nine be forever happy in your life together.”

“Here, here,” Tom echoed and obligingly, everyone in the room drank up.

Janeway smiled charmingly at them. “I’ll get you for this.”

“Counting on it,” Chakotay grinned, completely unconcerned as he moved off.

Music began playing over the intercom, overlying the roar of the many conversations with a beat that made it difficult to hear. Some of Tom’s ‘rock and roll’ no doubt, Janeway thought and wondered who was minding the ship. She debated trying to slip out and check on the bridge, but the amount of well-wishers between her and the door stymied that idea. Besides, she thought, there were people here she rarely had a chance to interact with and it was apparent that the entire ship was choosing to celebrate her upcoming nuptials. It would be ungracious of her in the extreme to sneak out of her own party.

Resigning herself to the inevitable, she began to circulate through the crowd, accepting congratulations and the various compliments on her choice of life partner, none of which she felt she could argue with. She was careful to keep her drink close by, sipping from it slowly, determined not to let herself go over her limit.

She did not notice in all the crush and confusion that the level of liquid in the tall glass never seemed to go down much, distracted by various conversations as others made a point of keeping her constantly topped off. After all, it was a party and it would not do for the one being honored to find herself with an empty glass.

The crowd was boisterous, raising their glasses often as she and Seven were saluted in a multitude of ways, the couple’s various attributes singled out and praised extravagantly. Starting off with the women’s intellect, their various engineering and scientific accomplishments and their professional abilities, it did not take that long before they were reduced to the baser and less lofty features such as Seven’s chest. By that time, Janeway was well past noticing how much she had drank and more than amenable to raising her glass in agreement to each and every toast.

She noticed Tuvok in a corner at one point, how he seemed so isolated from everyone even in the middle of a crowd. She wormed her way through the seething mass and drew him aside with a firm hand on his elbow.

“Tuvok,” she said, her words slurring slightly, “I’ve been meaning to speak with you.”

“Indeed, Captain.” He raised an delicately angled eyebrow at her. “For what purpose?”

“It’s come to my attention that you’ve been a little down in the dumps recently.”

“‘Down in the dumps’?” he echoed.

“Depressed,” she clarified, though she wasn’t entirely sure the Vulcan was as ignorant of Terran expressions as he liked to put on.

“I am Vulcan, Captain. I do not get depressed.”

“Bull,” she retorted, wagging her finger at him. “You’ve been all bent out of shape because you think you let me and the ship down with that mess with Angela James. And I’m here to tell you that you’re being silly. The fact is, you’re the best Starfleet security chief in the Delta Quadrant.”

“I am the only Starfleet security chief in the Delta Quadrant,” he pointed out, rather ungraciously she thought.

“Don’t be so picky,” she told him sharply. “You’re a damned fine officer, and you know it. Not to mention the best friend I’ve ever had … next to Annika, of course.”

“Of course.”

“I want you to snap out of this funk.” She briefly hiccoughed. “That’s an order.”

He eyed her carefully. “You appear unsteady, Captain. Perhaps you have imbibed more than you should?”

“Nonsense.” She brushed off the idea with an elegant wave that barely missed the tip of his nose. “I’ve only had the one glass.” She patted Tuvok on his chest, not noticing that she was also using it to maintain her balance as she swayed precariously. “Tuvok, I adore you. It’s just killing me that you’re so unhappy. I want you to cheer up. That’s another order.”

Tuvok’s lips twitched, very slightly. Only someone very observant would have seen or noted the brief gleam of … something in his eyes. Not amusement, because after all, Vulcans did not experience amusement, but definitely something that made his eyes glow a little darker.

“Very well, Captain, I shall do my best to obey.”

She slapped him soundly on the shoulder. “That’s the Tuvok I know and love.” Her attention was abruptly taken by Chakotay who was standing with another group of Voyager crew, talking and gesturing animatedly. She leaned against the Vulcan heavily, lowering her voice in a conspiratorial manner. “You know, Tuvok, I think Chakotay was … shall we say, ‘interested in me’ at one point.”

“Ah,” Tuvok replied noncommittally.

“Oh yes,” Janeway continued doggedly. “On New Earth, he built me a bathtub. Told me a story about a warrior who finds this female leader he feels compelled to follow. I think he was leading up to something, but then Voyager returned and the whole idea was forgotten. Well, not forgotten exactly but he never mentioned it again.”

“Apparently, three months was not sufficient enough time for him to make his intentions clear,” Tuvok noted dryly.

She issued a gusty sigh. “He is a little slow, though honestly, I didn’t really encourage him. Of course, once Annika came along, he didn’t stand a chance.”

“I suspect no one did, Captain. Seven is … unique.”

Janeway was unaware of the large and rather becoming smile that crossed her face just then. “She’s so incredible, Tuvok. If you only knew.” She paused, thinking about that. “Of course, no one else will either. I’m the only one who’s ever reached the promised land with her.”

“‘Promised land’?” Tuvok couldn’t resist.

Janeway blinked at him. “You know, Tuvok, got her out of her clothes and taught her how to…” she started to explain.

“I see, Captain,” he said hastily. “So glad you made that clear.”

She nudged him, hard enough to splash a little of his drink … a non-alcoholic Vulcan juice … and grinned winningly at him. “You know, I never imagined myself with a woman, old friend, but she really is a remarkable lover.”

“Captain, I suspect this is veering into an area that I need not know about,” he told her with great sincerity. Ignoring her disappointed expression … Janeway rarely got to discuss the baser facts of life with anyone but Seven … he took her arm and steered her over to the table loaded with snacks. “Perhaps it would be in your best interest to eat something.”

“Oh, wonderful, I love these,” she exclaimed happily, pouncing on the baby quiche tray.

Relieved, Tuvok made his way over to Chakotay, talking intently into the first officer’s ear. Janeway was surprised when the party abruptly started to break up a few minutes later. She objected strenuously, though they politely ignored her as they neatly and thoroughly cleaned the cabin. She refused to give up her tray of quiches and they were forced to leave it behind as they made their escape. Janeway was left standing in the middle of her living area, frowning mightily, hands perched sloppily on her hips as she swayed a little, looking about herself in confusion.

The door hissed open and she blinked as Seven came in, looking at her with an odd expression on her face. Janeway noted the expression and held up an admonishing finger.

“I only had one glass,” Janeway objected.

And pitched forward into the Borg’s arms.

Seven wasn’t comfortable in these situations, being surrounded by such a large group of people all talking and laughing at once. Still, she appreciated that the party was in her honor, and the many compliments about Kathryn as well as the congratulations that flowed her way were something she knew she should accept with gratitude. So many people were happy for her and Janeway, even people with whom she rarely interacted, and she was pleasantly astonished when each one stopped by to share some anecdote about themselves and the captain. It granted her insight into her partner’s image in the eyes of her crew and allowed her to assess a sense of history that had been denied her before.

Though she had been a member of Voyager for quite some time, there was no question that many people had been intimidated and frightened by her link to the Borg. Eventually, she had made a few friends but while she had not been avoided exactly, she had been left alone for the most part by the larger percentage of the crew. Once she began her relationship with Janeway, her circle of acquaintances increased dramatically, but only now did she finally feel part of the whole, truly part of the collective that made up Voyager. It was as if, by getting married, she was being brought into the family in a way she had not yet experienced, and she was profoundly moved by it.

She took a breath as she watched the Doctor thread his way through the crowd toward her. Though the Chief Medical Officer had acted as her mentor and guide to humanity when she first arrived on the ship, a recent incident where he had been forced to give her some bad news had caused an estrangement between them. She knew that Kathryn wanted her to make peace with the Emergency Medical Hologram but it was difficult for her to forget that he was the one who had killed her dreams of bearing children. Of course, it had been the Borg who had actually removed her reproductive organs, but since he had been the one to explain it to her, irrationally she blamed him for her loss.

“Seven, are you all set for your big day?” he asked cheerfully.

“Yes,” she responded shortly. She detected the shadow that passed over his dark eyes at her abruptness. Even though he was supposedly just a hologram, being forced to remain constantly active for five years had granted him definite kind of sentience. He felt as much as the human he resembled and she was regretful her manner had hurt him.

“Doctor, we must talk,” she added. “Privately.”

He hesitated, then nodded. “That’s probably a good idea, but this is hardly the time or place.”

“It is not the place.” Seven took his arm and nudged him toward B’Elanna’s bedroom. “But it is the time. You shall perform our marriage ceremony tomorrow and it will not do for us to be at odds with each other.”

She urged him into the bathroom, the closing of the door shutting out the better part of noise and crush of the people, almost deafening then with the sudden silence. He looked around and smiled wryly.

“Somehow, I don’t think anyone’s going to appreciate the fact that the only two beings on the ship without the need for certain biological functions have just taken over the facilities.”

“I do not believe this shall take long.”

He nodded, appearing quite serious suddenly. “I know you and I have … a problem, Seven.”

“I have been very uncomfortable around you recently,” she admitted honestly. “I have been avoiding you.”

“Because I was the one who told you that you couldn’t have children.”

She looked at him, linking her hands behind her back. “I know the situation is not of your doing, but I still blame you for it. It is not rational or logical, but it is how I feel.”

He bent his head, the bald pate catching the light. “Seven, I realize that there were times that you and I had our disagreements, but I’ve developed a rather large soft spot for you. I’d hate to think that this would damage that. I never wanted to cause you any harm whatsoever.”

She firmed her jaw. “I do not understand why you did not tell me earlier. Why did you allow me to believe for so long that I was capable of having children?”

“Seven, I honestly thought you understood all the Borg had done to you,” he said with great sincerity. “Including the … removal of those organs when they installed your abdominal implant. Until the captain mentioned it, I had no idea you didn’t realize you couldn’t bear offspring. And, I suppose, I’ve always looked at you as somewhat of a technical being, like me. It never occurred to me that you would want children in the first place.”

“I was always more concerned with the Borg systems I had remaining,” Seven admitted thoughtfully, “rather than any human systems that might have been damaged or destroyed by them. I also assumed that you could reconstruct anything that had been removed by the Borg. As you did with my … ‘belly button’.”

His dark eyes softened. “Seven, I wish with everything I am that I could somehow regenerate the areas of your reproductive system that were destroyed. It’s simply beyond my abilities. I have neither the equipment or the raw material.”

She considered that. “I believe you, Doctor.” She granted him a brief smile. “I am pleased you are performing our wedding ceremony.”

“I’m honored to do it,” he said with what seemed great relief.

A pounding on the door indicated that their stay had reached its limit and without further words, not that any were necessary between them, the pair hastily vacated the premises under the annoyed and confused eyes of those waiting to use the facility. Seven drifted over to where B’Elanna and Ensign Samantha Wildman were discussing the ceremony along with Wildman’s young daughter, Naomi.

As the only child on Voyager, born in their first year of being stranded, Naomi had been forced to grow up in the adult world of the starship. While she customarily displayed a manner far more mature than her years, she somehow never lost touch with her youth and innocence. It was that quality that had first drawn the Borg to her. Seven had been denied the larger portion of her childhood and the two improbably became the best of friends. Now, Naomi was absolutely bubbling with excitement, not only because she had been invited by Seven to participate in the ceremony, but also because she was allowed to stay up late to be at this grown up party.

Her eyes lit up as she saw Seven’s approach and she rushed over to take her hand.

“Seven, are you excited about tomorrow?” she asked, her bright blue eyes sparkling.

“I am very excited,” she told the child gravely, but with a hint of humor dancing across her eyes. “Are you prepared to stand with me?”

“I am,” Naomi said, obviously very pleased at having been granted such a responsibility.

Seven had few close friends on the ship, with Kathryn being her closest, so when it was explained that she required others to stand with her, she had a fairly limited amount of choices. With the Doctor performing the ceremony and Tuvok standing with Janeway, B’Elanna, Sek and Naomi were the only ones Seven could think of. Any objections to the child’s age or the fact that Sek was a hologram had been quickly and thoroughly squashed by her. After all, this was her and the captain’s ceremony and she would hold it her way. Kathryn certainly had no objection to either Sek or the child’s inclusion in the proceedings.

Holding the little girl’s hand, Seven joined B’Elanna and Samantha, noting that she no longer found it so difficult to ‘mingle’. After so long, perhaps she was closer to being Human than she thought.

The rest of the evening went by quickly and Seven thought she saw Tom Paris and Harry Kim drop by on a few occasions. Indeed, there seemed to be a steady stream back and forth between the parties and she was pleased to overhear that apparently Kathryn was also having what seemed to be a good time. But when she caught the words ‘captain’s party’ and ‘all over’, she realized the lateness of the hour, knowing it was time to return to her partner. Tomorrow would be a full day and despite the fact she did not think she would sleep at all this night, she felt she should at least make the attempt. She took her leave, suspecting that the party would continue on long after she had made her way back to her quarters.

Kathryn was standing in the middle of the living area, a decided sway to her usually neat and compact posture. Seven met the muddled blue gray eyes quizzically and the captain lifted a long index finger in an approximation of what would be her normal gesture of disagreement.

“I only had one glass,” she declared firmly.

Then toppled forward.

Only Seven’s Borg enhanced reflexes allowed her to close the distance between them, and catch her partner before she hit the floor. Janeway looked up at her, slumped bonelessly in her arms, a somewhat crooked smile on her face.

“Hello darlin’,” she slurred. “Did you have a good time?”

“I did,” Seven said as she hefted the captain awkwardly, attempting to secure a better hold on her. “Did you?”

“Oh yes, it was a wunner … a wonderful time,” Janeway replied, enunciating carefully. Then she burped rather loudly and chuckled throatily. Seven raised a shocked eyebrow. She had never heard her partner burp before.

“You are intoxicated.”

“Nonsense,” Janeway said dismissively. “How would I become drunk?”

“Possibly by drinking?” Seven nudged her toward the bedroom.

Janeway staggered through the door, showing a distinct tendency to lurch to her left, and Seven had a hard time keeping her on course.

“I never drink that much,” the captain stated positively.

“Apparently you have this evening.” Seven turned her around and tried to lower her to the bed.

Janeway slipped out of her grasp and collapsed onto the mattress, arms flung out, looking at the Borg with a most peculiar expression, midway between affection and confusion, as if she didn’t quite know who Seven was.

“You’re some god awful sexy woman, Annika,” Janeway informed her seriously as if it were a sudden discovery on her part. She made an abrupt swipe at the Borg with her arm.

Seven dodged the clumsy grab easily and began to peel off the captain’s boots and uniform trousers. Janeway obligingly sat up and began to help, taking off her tunic. She tossed aside the red and black top, but quickly ran into problems as she was pulling the sweater off over her head.

“Help me,” she demanded crankily in a muffled tone. Seven looked up to discover that Janeway had her arms tangled up in the neck of her sweater, the whole thing wrapped around her head, obscuring her vision. She was struggling weakly, the sleeves completely immobilizing her.

Seven felt a wave of amusement flood through her and she tried not to smile as she stood up, requiring a few moments and some inventive curses on Janeway’s part before she was finally able to free her partner.

Naked, Janeway immediately threw herself back onto the bed and looked up at Seven, a leer etching itself onto her features. Seven had discovered that while no one leered quite so elegantly as her partner, it was without question, a trifle sloppy this night.

“Sit on my face,” Janeway requested huskily.

Seven raised an eyebrow. Usually the captain was so much more … delicate when making remarks of that sort. The Borg wondered why it mattered how such a thing was said if the intention was the same, but she decided that it did. She wasn’t entirely sure she liked the manner of this phrasing, regardless that it was her beloved Kathryn who was saying it.

“I think you should go to sleep,” Seven countered reprovingly as she began to remove her own outfit.

“Afterward,” Janeway told her sternly. She looked down at her chest peevishly. “Do you think I’m too small?”

Confused by the shift in topic, Seven looked at her, clarification dawning as the captain abruptly cupped her breasts as if offering them to the Borg.

“No,” Seven responded, quite honestly. “They are perfect.”

Janeway eyed her narrowly as if suspecting Seven was being less than sincere, and then smiled blissfully. “They would like it very much if you were to kiss them,” she said coyly, apparently realizing she had been a bit too forward in her previous request.

Seven suspected that the mammary glands, as attractive as they were, were hardly as sentient as the captain was implying.

“Perhaps later,” Seven offered.

Janeway lifted her chin imperiously. “Kiss them now.”

Seven regarded her impassively for a moment, thinking about it, then slipped into bed next to her partner who happily settled back onto the pillows.

Leaning over the reclining captain, Seven began to kiss the small breasts lovingly, gently, using her mouth in such a way as to soothe rather than arouse the other woman. Within a few minutes, Janeway’s breathing had deepened and a rather reverberating snore erupted from her mouth that had dropped open as her head fell back.

Seven winced at the sound as she drew the blankets up around her partner and with a sigh of relief, curled up around her and attempted to go to sleep.

Trying not to think about the next day and all that would happen.

“Oh my god,” Janeway moaned as she held onto her head, very much afraid it would fly off her shoulders at any moment. Her mouth tasted like the Vulcan desert at high noon in the dead of summer, and the clanging in her skull threatened to deafen her permanently.

“Oh my god,” she whimpered again, just in case no one had heard her.

She was vaguely aware of Seven coming into the bedroom from the ensuite, carrying the wedding dress over her shoulder. The tall Borg stopped by the bed, looking down at the prostrate captain with cool impartiality.

“I’m dying,” the captain muttered plaintively, hoping she looked as miserable as she felt.

“You will survive,” Seven said, clearly unmoved by her lover’s suffering. “It is a ‘hangover’ and something you are required to experience when you have overindulged with alcohol.”

“Who told you that?” Janeway whispered with dismay.

“You did.” Seven regarded the captain measuringly. “It is now 1300 hours. I must prepare for the ceremony. I shall be at B’Elanna’s if you require anything further.”

Janeway was aghast when Seven simply left without any further attempt at conversation or comfort. Wondering where her partner had developed such a callous streak, and why the hell she was marrying her if that was the sort of wife she was going to be, she groaned softly and cautiously rolled over. Dropping onto the floor, she crawled on her hands and knees to the bathroom where she vigorously threw up whatever had been taken into her stomach the night before. So much of her memory was foggy and all she could really remember was talking to Tuvok briefly about … something.

Can’t blame sabotage on that bit of amnesia, she thought gloomily as she regarded the unidentified remains swirling around in the waste disposal unit.

Somehow, she managed to get to her feet and turn on the shower, stepping tentatively under the chill spray with the sort of determination she hadn’t required since her late high school days. Honestly, what had happened the night before and what had she been thinking? She was sure that she had placed a limit on herself and she couldn’t imagine what would make her ignore it. Perhaps the liquor she imbibed was much stronger than what she normally drank.

She closed her eyes, leaning heavily against the shower wall, the rush of water peppering her with needle fineness. She kept filling her mouth with the cool liquid and spitting, trying to rid herself of both the taste and the dryness she was experiencing. She started abruptly when she sensed a presence in the room with her, and she recoiled against the wall as she looked over to see the Doctor standing there with a hypospray, regarding her patiently.

“Goddamn it, what the hell are you doing?” she yelled and then wished she hadn’t when her own voice rattled through her head like a Betazed gong. She pressed her palms to her eyes painfully, waiting for the echoes to stop.

He raised an eyebrow, waving the hypospray for emphasis. “I was informed that you would be in need of certain treatment.” He eyed her sardonically as she stumbled out of the shower and grabbed for the towel hanging on the wall, wrapping it around her with wounded dignity. “Unless you’d prefer to have your … what was it again … ‘hangover’ during the ceremony?”

She glared at him. Clearly, he was enjoying this whole situation far too much, but she didn’t object further and with a narrow, little smile, he pressed the tip of the device to her neck. The soft hiss was immediately accompanied by the sweet relief of her headache and nausea disappearing.

“Doctor, I really don’t like it when you suddenly appear in my bathroom,” she said tightly.

“I’m sure you don’t, but a ‘house call’ is a little better than treating this sort of thing in sickbay, don’t you think? Besides, Seven seemed to think it was something of an emergency.”

Janeway’s lips thinned as she considered that. She supposed she should be grateful that her partner had been so thoughtful as to provide for her care, especially since she had the impression Seven was completely unsympathetic to the captain’s pain.

As well she should be, Janeway was forced to admit to herself. She couldn’t believe she would be so careless as to become intoxicated the night before her wedding. She wondered if there hadn’t been some nerves involved there, after all, and if Seven would forgive such inappropriate behavior.

“Very well, Doctor,” she said, trying for a more gracious tone. “Thank you.”

“Glad to be of service,” he said cheerfully. He smiled at her. “See you at the altar.”

He dematerialized, transporting his matrix back to sickbay and she let out a mingled sigh of exasperation and relief. Tossing her towel over the rack, she programmed the tub for a bath, adding certain oils and salts. While it was filling, she padded naked out to the living area and replicated some fruit, knowing she needed to replenish her body’s fluids. Feeling extremely fragile, she carried the plate back into the bathroom and ate her meal while soaking in the tub. The combination of food and hot water on top of the Doctor’s magic hypospray served to make her feel a lot more Human and by the time she had risen from the bath and dried herself off, she was actually starting to anticipate what the afternoon would bring.

She took a lot of time to prepare, dabbing perfume in certain areas and making sure she felt as gorgeous as possible before turning to the dress uniform hanging in the closet. Several months earlier, an artifact had sent Chakotay, B’Elanna and Seven to Deep Space Nine where they gathered a host of supplies and data before choosing to return to Voyager’s exile. Included were the replicator patterns for the new issue of Starfleet uniforms, much different than the older versions the crew had been wearing when first lost in the Delta Quadrant. The senior staff had discussed changing over to the new versions, but the fact that every replicator would require reprogramming in the pattern buffer, a task that was not only tedious but expended a significant amount of the ship’s store of energy, made them decide to stay with what they already had.

The dress uniforms were a different matter. When Janeway had been presented with an image of the new pattern, she thought that finally, someone in Starfleet Command had developed some taste. She had always loathed the old version, heavy black and red tunics that hung to her knees and with her coloring, made her look as dumpy and unattractive as possible. She believed the new version could make any Starfleet officer look presentable and immediately had one made up. When this ceremony had been planned, she demanded that the rest in the wedding party be fitted for the new dress whites as well. It had been her only stipulation and Seven was apparently happy to comply to the request.

The captain regarded herself in the mirror with satisfaction, appreciating how the uniform set off the rich auburn in her hair and lent dignity to her stature. The jacket’s lines were crisp and refined while the gold braid offered a militaristic touch she felt was appropriate for her in a way it might not be for other line officers. The ebony pants were elegantly cut and the high waist gave her the illusion of height. She raised her jaw proudly, a sudden image streaking across her mind … a similar sort of white jacket, a bistro in France, aliens dressed in the uniforms of the Nazi regime. She shook it off, wondering where that memory had sprung from, and left the ensuite just as the door chime sounded.

Chakotay and Tuvok stood resplendent in their new dress uniforms, wearing slate-blue blouses beneath the short jackets as opposed to the white she had on. They entered her quarters and spent a few seconds regarding her with open admiration.

“Maybe we should change over to the new uniforms after all,” Chakotay suggested a little wistfully.

Janeway smiled. “I don’t know,” she said, settling her shoulders beneath the unfamiliar fabric. “If we return only to find Starfleet has changed the design yet again, we would have to consider it a complete waste of energy.”

“You have a point.” Her first officer put his hands on his hips. “You ready?”

All of a sudden, the reality of what was about to happen slammed down on her like a phaser blast. Her face grew pale and she stared at him.

“Captain, are you all right?” Tuvok asked with sudden concern. “Your face has just assumed a rather odd shade.”

She swallowed hard. “Excuse me,” she mumbled and made a beeline for the bathroom.

A few minutes later, after having lost most of her meal and utilizing all her mouth freshening applications in the medicine cabinet, she tottered unsteadily back out to where her officers were waiting. Both Chakotay and Tuvok seemed eager to concentrate on anything but her, and Janeway could swear there was a smile playing about her first officer’s mouth.

“If you laugh,” she hissed at him. “I swear, I’ll kill you where you stand.”

A movement appeared on his cheek where he was clearly biting the inside of it.

“Understood, Captain. Shall we go?” He offered his arm, making a gesture to the door with the other.

Taking a deep breath, she linked her elbows with them and flanked by her friends, she sailed out into the corridor toward Holodeck One where the ceremony would take place.

To where the future awaited.

Seven thought that her friends were far more agitated than they needed to be and she observed their actions with a combination of confusion and surprise. After all, she was the one getting married and if she was no longer nervous about it, it did not make sense that they were. Now that the ceremony was only a few hours away, Seven had felt a sudden peace settle over her, the sense that everything was perfect and that there was no where else in the universe that she needed or wanted to be.

Even when she was dispatched to B’Elanna’s bathroom where she was instructed to scrub to within an inch of her life. She did not understand why a wedding required the same preparation that major surgery did but she obeyed, utilizing both the sonic setting at its highest level and that of a hydro burst.

Clean, skin flushed a delicate pink from the heat of the water, her fine blonde hair limp and dripping, she exited the ensuite where B’Elanna and Sek pounced on her with all the delicacy of a pack of hyena attacking a water buffalo. Seven was thrust into the center of the room and made to stand on a small platform as she was dressed by her friends who ran about with much enthusiasm and little organization.

Seven discovered that each item she donned was supposed to have great significance. The lace underwear with the silver threads were a symbol of chastity and virginal purity; concepts which could be considered irrelevant in her case, but since she was not asked her opinion about that, she supposed it didn’t matter. The long, sheer stockings were held up by garters decorated with the tiniest of blue flowers. When Seven was informed that they were supposed to be removed by the captain at the reception and flung into the crowd, she did not try to argue with B’Elanna about how highly unlikely that event was sure to be. She simply remained silent and put them on, fully confident that the captain would no more try to undress her in front of the crew that she would abruptly sprout wings and fly.

Finally, the dress was lowered over her head, the length falling smoothly over her body and legs. As she saw her reflection in the mirror, Seven felt a certain satisfaction with her appearance. The dress was based on a design that she had seen in a holo-image during her time in the Alpha Quadrant. It was a recording of Gretchen and Edward Janeway’s wedding and when Kathryn’s mother had showed it to her, Seven’s eidetic memory stored it away, allowing her to reproduce it once she knew she was about to be married. Kathryn had not been aware of the significance of the design at first, but when informed of it, the captain had assumed the softest, sweetest expression on her face that Seven had ever seen. The Borg felt very comfortable in the dress and decided that as garments went, it suited her well.

Her satisfaction in her appearance changed rapidly when the Ordeal of the Hair commenced. Much discussion regarding the placement and display of what had otherwise been mere follicles spouting from her head was conducted loudly by B’Elanna, Sek and Naomi while Seven sat uncomprehendingly in a chair in front of the mirror. Sek wanted it long, falling as she put it, “gracefully down her back like a golden waterfall.” Naomi agreed. For a young child, she was remarkably forthcoming with her opinion regarding her friend’s appearance.

B’Elanna objected … unsurprisingly … and demanded that Seven’s hair be pinned up, not in the customary bun she normally wore, but piled on her head as high as it could reach and secured by some sort of adhesive spray. Seven wondered if this was a Klingon custom or a Human one. With B’Elanna, it was hard to tell sometimes.

The resulting disagreement grew somewhat heated and when phrases like “looking like cheap trailer trash” started to be tossed around … though Seven had no idea what that implied … Seven decided that enough was enough. She allowed in her most precise voice that she would wear her hair down, but that she would also wear the silver Klingon headband to hold her bangs off her forehead and out of her eyes.

That settled, she was forced to hold still as Sek and B’Elanna created the hairstyle, then applied what they referred to as ‘makeup’. Seven had never before worn any and didn’t think she needed to be wearing it now, but the Borg knew she’d be attempting many new and different things this day so she remained silent as the various powders, glosses and pigments were applied.

Fortunately, B’Elanna possessed a more delicate restraint in this area, and before Seven quite realized what was happening, she was staring at a most unfamiliar reflection in the mirror. She tilted her head slightly, trying to discover what had been done to alter her appearance in such a manner. It was undoubtedly her … only more so. Where once there had been an angular sternness, now there was softness, where once there had been impassive coldness, now there was warmth and gentleness radiating from her narrow features. Even the grey metallic implants had been altered somehow to give her the appearance of fresh youthfulness, of innocence and soulful yearning.

Seven was profoundly astonished.

“Now sit there and don’t move,” B’Elanna ordered sternly. “Thank god you don’t sweat.”

Bemused by that, Seven obediently remained still in her chair as chaos ran rampart around her, the other three attempting to get ready themselves even as they helped each other. The Borg wondered idly if this was also a tradition associated with being married and found it all very inefficient and quite lacking in percision. Not to mention how everyone’s nerves were apparently on edge. A misplaced hair clip set up a clamor that threatened to cause a ship-wide red alert before the missing object was finally discovered under the Klingon’s bed.

Finally, the four were ready, powdered, primped and processed … a half hour early.

“Damn, I thought you had this timed, Sek,” B’Elanna grumbled as she settled on the bed, sitting gingerly in an attempt not to wrinkle her dress uniform. She slid a finger inside her collar and tugged uncomfortably. “I’m gonna drown.”

“Lower the room temperature,” Sek suggested crisply.

Though her originally matrix had been based on Kes, a former crewmember of Voyager, the holographic medical assistant had altered her facial features from Ocampan to something more Human. The bone structure and voice was still the empath’s, but the personality, some of which was owed to the chief engineer’s programming, was a great deal more feisty and less forgiving of humanoid weaknesses than Kes had been. Seven had discovered that as the hologram learned and evolved, she had developed into this new entity that the Borg honestly liked as a person rather than simply viewing the hologram as a mere technical being.

Naomi was not in a uniform. She was wearing a pretty white dress that brought out the tints in her strawberry blond hair. A row of Katarian bone flares bisected her forehead, but otherwise, she looked like a very Human young girl dressed in her Sunday best. She also seemed to be sharing in the Klingon’s discomfort at having prepared so early, and Seven took pity on her.

“Come with me, Naomi,” Seven instructed. “We should check on Kathryn to see if she is prepared.”

The objections were immediate and loud.

“You can’t do that,” B’Elanna yelled. “It’s bad luck.”

“Seven, you shouldn’t be seen by the Captain before the ceremony,” Sek agreed seriously. “It will ruin the effect.”

“They’re right, Seven,” Naomi said with remarkable maturity. “You don’t want to keep the captain from seeing you walk down the aisle for the first time.”

Seven blinked with confusion. “But you are uncomfortable waiting. Performing a task will make the time pass quicker.”

“We’ll lower the temperature,” B’Elanna stated firmly. “And play charades if we have to.”

“‘Charades’?”

“Never mind. Computer, lower the ambient temperature in my quarters fifteen degrees.” She looked at Seven and took a breath of what seemed relief as the air grew perceptively cooler. “Seven, why aren’t you nervous?”

“I do not know,” Seven replied, somewhat defensively at the accusing tone. “I was breifly apprehensive last night, but since then, I have not been disturbed by the idea. I love Kathryn, and being married to her is the next logical progression of our relationship.”

“Still, you’d think you’d be a wreck by now,” B’Elanna said, sounding somewhat disgruntled.

“Don’t give her ideas,” Sek noted briefly as she picked a piece of lint off her arm. “I would hate to have to deal with a nervous Borg.”

Seven eyed her. Since Sek was a hologram, so was her uniform, and therefore so was any lint. She wondered if this was a display of nervousness on the medical assistant’s part.

“Are you ready for the honeymoon, Seven?” Naomi piped up.

B’Elanna nudged her condescendingly. “What do you know about honeymoons, Sprout?”

Naomi offered the Klingon a scornful look. “I know that it’s considered a vacation for the couple who have just been married, and that much sexual interaction takes place. I was conceived on my parents’ honeymoon.”

Seven was intrigued. She had never seen B’Elanna turn that particular shade of crimson before.

“Does your mother know you talk like that?”

Naomi stared at her oddly. “Of course. She’s a biometrics officer.”

“I think we should go to the holodeck,” Sek suggested, sensing this was getting out of hand.

B’Elanna was only too quick to agree with the hologram.

Janeway stood with Tuvok and Chakotay in the vestibule of the tiny church, looking through the window to the rose garden where all the non-denominational ceremonies took place. This tiny building had been a center of community in the Indiana agricultural park where she had grown up. Her parents had been married here and she remembered other weddings she had attended in the years prior to being lost in the Delta Quadrant. In fact, the last time she had stood in this vestibule, it had been for the wedding of her childhood friend to a young Starfleet medical officer. Janeway had attended Mary’s ceremony with Justin Tighe, believing that one day they would be married here as well; something that would certainly have occurred soon afterward had not a tragic accident killed both he and her father on the ice sheet of Tau Ceti Prime.

Through the stained glass, she could see the sun shining brightly down on the chairs set up on the emerald green lawn, the clear blue of an Indiana sky dotted with a few clouds that drifted big and puffy, mounds of soft white in the distance that would not threaten rain or for that matter, even pass overhead to obscure the sun. That was the advantage of being married in the holodeck. Weather was simply not a factor.

Of course, the captain allowed to herself silently, the disadvantage is that it isn’t real either.

On some basic level, she would have sensed that even if she hadn’t already known it was a complete and utter illusion. For a moment her heart ached in her, feeling so far away from home and wishing that she could be in that rural community on Earth rather than in this facsimile. That out in the garden behind the church where the trellis festooned with roses arched over the stone paved dais, her mother and sister would be waiting patiently in the audience to see her be married.

Janeway did not regret choosing to be married now, knowing that both she and Annika needed this commitment as did the ship in some strange way, but there was still a part of her that very much mourned the absence of her family. She sent a stray bequest out to the universe, a rush of love and the wistful hope that in some way, Gretchen and Phoebe knew what was happening at this moment. That somehow they would feel some sort of connection, would perhaps look up from whatever they were doing as the echo of her joy touched them briefly.

Tuvok cleared his throat softly. “I believe it is time.”

She nodded curtly. “Let’s do it.”

Chakotay laughed. “It’s a wedding, Kathryn, not a red alert.”

“Just remember that when it’s your turn,” she replied through gritted teeth.

“Oh, I’m never going to do this,” he told her placidly, taking her arm as they left the hall and walked out into the sunshine. “So you don’t have to concern yourself with that.”

The three strode in tandem down the pebbled walk leading to the dais and took their position on the paving stones. In neat rows of chairs lining the path, all the members of the crew who were either off duty or had swapped with others, were personally in attendance, while over a variety of monitors throughout the ship, those who remained at their posts also kept an eye on the proceedings even as they maintained their watch on their stations. After all, it wasn’t every day the ship’s captain was married.

The Doctor, who looked extremely dignified in his snow white uniform, smiled briefly at her as they took up their position beneath the trellis, the pavement beneath their feet worn by all the betrothed that had stood there before her. Janeway could smell the fragrance from the roses winding through the wooden frame arching above her and for now, allowed herself to accept the illusion for what it was intended to be. At the very least, Annika deserved that much and Janeway supposed, she did as well. She intended to be married only once and if there had been other relationships before this one, relationships that she thought would last forever, she was still determined that the person she would spend the rest of her life with would be Seven of Nine. And that this ceremony would be all she ever needed to establish that in the eyes of Federation law.

She caught her breath as the music from the string quartet began, her heart thumping in her chest as she looked back to the door of the church, a different one from where she and her escorts had exited. Seven stood strong and tall, a vision of exquisite loveliness. Everyone stood as the soloist from biometrics started to sing in a clear, melodic voice, the song that had been chosen to accompany Seven on her walk down the aisle. The Borg moved with measured precision toward the dais, holding a bouquet of baby’s breath and white roses before her. In her wake, Naomi carried a silver box, preceding B’Elanna and Sek who were amazingly feminine and lovely in their dress uniforms; all of whom were approaching the altar with fixed smiles and glazed expressions in their faces. Only Seven seemed alert and ready for what was about to happen.

Janeway swallowed hard, tears stinging her eyes as she watched Seven, looking like a fantasy in silver and white, so incredibly beautiful that the captain wondered how she could ever survive the sheer wonder of this moment. She dimly felt Chakotay or Tuvok … she was never sure who and she never asked afterward … nudge her forward and she took a step, accepting the hand that Seven reached out, tucking it neatly under her arm as she helped the young woman step up onto the platform though surely the Borg needed no assistance.

Indeed, the captain was convinced that were it not for the firm grip Seven had on her that Janeway herself would promptly collapse in a heap on the ground. Her head felt oddly detached from her body and as they stood in front of the Doctor, the captain’s knees seemed made of jelly, completely unsuitable for holding her upright. Her mind went blank and for a brief eternity of total panic, Janeway had no idea what the hell she was doing here or what she was supposed to do next.

Seven squeezed her hand comfortingly as if sensing the captain’s anxiety and the suffocating terror receded slightly, allowing Janeway to take a breath, the lightheadedness indicating that it had been some time since she had taken her last one.

“Friends, family, honored crew of Voyager,” the Doctor began once the music had stopped and the crowd had once more settled back into their seats. His voice had taken on a rich timbre that Janeway had never heard from him before; deep, dignified, and refined. “We are gathered here today to share in the joining of Kathryn Janeway, and Annika Hansen, women who’s lives have touched ours in so many ways. We bore witness to their initial meeting, watched their relationship grow, developing first into friendship, then into so much more until finally, on this, the first eve of Prixin, we are called upon to witness the formal and binding declaration of their love and commitment to each other.”

He smiled warmly at both of them and Janeway felt a little more of her panic subside. She could actually feel Seven’s fingers entwined with her own now.

“Annika, I believe you have certain words to say to Kathryn before your shipmates and whatever deities they choose to believe in.”

Seven carefully handed her bouquet to B’Elanna and turned to Janeway, gripping her hands tightly.

“Kathryn,” she said in a clear, distinct voice that rang out over the crowd, “I was once part of a vast consciousness; billions of minds working together. A harmony of purpose and thought; no indecisions, no doubts; the security and strength of a unified will. Then you came and took me from that purpose. I felt small, alone, one voice, one mind. You told me that I was not alone; that I was part of a human community now; a Human Collective. That we may all be individuals but that we can live and work together. You promised that I could find the unity I required right here on Voyager. I did not understand what you meant, then. I do now. With you I have found harmony and purpose, with you I have found love and belonging. With you, I have found a greater unification than the Collective could ever offer.”

She took a breath. “Before all of our friends, before all of our family, I swear by whatever any individual holds supreme, I shall always love you. I promise to walk at your side wherever our path may lead, to support you if that road grows difficult, and to allow you to support me in return. Kathryn Janeway, I pledge my life to be with you always; for better or worse, in sickness and in health, for good times and in bad, until death and beyond.”

Janeway hoped she would be able to remember those words so intently and sincerely spoken, that she would be able to call them up later and truly appreciate their meaning and the love which had inspired them. But right now it felt like her brain was leaking out her ears and she was very much afraid she was going to faint. She knew she was supposed to say something in return, but her voice box had just taken a sudden leave of absence and the only sound she could make was a tiny whimper when she parted her lips.

Seven regarded her with warm blue eyes and seemed to smile. “I believe in you, Kathryn,” she whispered, so soft that not even the Doctor heard.

But Janeway did.

Drawing on every reserve that had stood her in such good stead through the years of rising through the ranks of Starfleet, through war and peace, through tragedy and triumph, of her father’s death and of being lost here in the Delta Quadrant when she had let her crew down so badly, Kathryn somehow found her voice and the words that she had prepared for this moment, praying that they conveyed everything that she needed them to.

“When I first met you, I believed that I could return your humanity to you, that I could somehow give you back all that you were missing in your existence. It was only later that I discovered it was you who returned my humanity to me, that it was you who taught me how to live again, and how to love. You taught me what was missing in my life and offered it back to me without hesitation or reserve. You’re my heart, Annika Hansen, my Seven of Nine, and I swear before God and all others that I shall always love you. I promise to give to you every part of me, holding nothing back, to be at your side now and forever. All I am, I pledge to you; for better or worse, in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, until death and beyond.”

There wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Even the holograms blinked rapidly at suspicious moisture and the Doctor actually had to clear his throat before he could go on.

“Annika and Kathryn have chosen as a symbol of their love and devotion, matching pendants that will be worn next to their hearts from this day forward,” he proclaimed, turning to Naomi who obligingly stepped forward, opening the box.

Inside, cradled on a bed of silver velvet, suspended by whisper thin silver chains, were two perfectly formed crystals, deep green in color. The Doctor removed them carefully from the box, holding them up to catch the light from the sun. They sparkled with an emerald fire though no one knew what sort of stones they were or even what they represented.

One day, not so long ago, amidst turmoil and destruction, a Starfleet Captain trying to get her ship and crew home braved a Borg Cube, demanding and receiving a liaison to allow her and the Collective to work together. From a cubicle, a drone stepped forward, designated the Tertiary Adjunct to the Unimatrix 01 and neither of their lives, Human nor Borg, would ever be the same again.

From that same cubicle, which along with three other alcoves had survived the cube’s destruction by Species 8472, Seven had removed the power flow nodules, transmitter stones that could only be found on the Borg homeworld itself. With careful precision, Seven had shaped them into faceted crystals before attaching them to the chains made from the silver refined from Janeway’s first Starfleet Medal of Honor. Janeway had thought they were a most appropriate symbol of their relationship.

Weird. But appropriate.

Seven accepted one of the necklaces from the Doctor and turned to Janeway. She carefully placed the chain about the captain’s neck as the Doctor recited formally, “Annika Hansen, do you take this woman to be your spouse from this day forward?”

“I do,” she said firmly and clearly, securing the clasp.

Janeway shakily took the other necklace from him and put it on Seven.

“Kathryn Janeway, do you take this woman to be your spouse from this day forward?” he repeated, a hint of humor in his tone.

“I do,” Janeway husked, her fingers trembling so much that she was scared she couldn’t work the fastening, gratified when somehow, she managed to close it.

The Doctor took a breath and straightened, looking out over the crowd.

“By the authority vested in me by Starfleet regulations and Federation law, I now pronounce you legally and officially married.” He smiled. “You may both kiss the bride.”

And Voyager reverberated with cheers as Janeway felt Seven’s mouth cover hers, kissing her softly, gently, with complete and utter love. Their first kiss as a married couple.

Seven regarded Janeway out of the corner of her eye, reassuring herself that her partner … her wife, she corrected instantly, the thought jolting along her brain paths with a golden fire … was fully recovered from her bout of nerves. Indeed, at one point the Borg had been afraid the captain was actually going to pass out, Janeway’s porcelain skin had been such a pale grey. And the way Kathryn’s fingers had held onto hers with a death grip had made Seven realize that the formidable captain of Voyager did indeed have certain irrational fears. But since it was highly unlikely Janeway would ever have to repeat the experience, Seven supposed it was not anything to worry about.

She smiled faintly as she saw Naomi at the table on the main floor with Neelix and Samantha Wildman, explaining excitedly to her mother all that she had been doing during the ceremony. The child had conducted herself well and Seven thought that she would have to come up with a special way to thank her for it.

“So, now the real fun begins,” a voice beside her said idly.

Seven glanced over, regarding B’Elanna who had loosened her collar and was leaning back in her chair, lips pursed as she regarded the crowd. The holodeck had been reprogrammed into a simulation of a huge hall, filled with tables and chairs bordering a respectably sized dance floor. Seven and B’Elanna, along with the rest of the wedding party, were sitting at the head table while holographic waiters circulated through the crowd, dropping off very real meals to the hungry crew as the event was now well into the early evening. The Doctor was busy snapping images of everyone and everything he saw, trotting here and there and obviously having the time of his programmed existence.

This was what was known as the ‘reception’, Seven knew. Another form of celebration. The Borg thought that the wedding itself, which had basically taken only twenty minutes in the afternoon, was not something that necessarily required all this extraneous pageantry, but she had promised to go along with it. There were still certain rituals expected of her and Kathryn, though she did not quite understand most of them. In fact, some of them seemed so ludicrous that Seven was convinced that B’Elanna had just been making them up as she went along, but she and Kathryn should experience all a wedding entailed so she had agreed to everything. Now she was a little sorry about having been so accommodating and she hoped she had remembered to mention all the little requirements to Kathryn.

Chakotay, on Janeway’s other side, stood up, tapping on the side of his glass with his knife. The buzz of the crowd lessened and died and he smiled.

“I’m going to make this brief,” he said, raising his champagne. “To Kathryn and Annika. May their happiness grow exponentially from this moment forward.”

Seven was impressed by the mathematical projection of the sentiment and obligingly drank from her glass. She rather liked champagne, enjoying how the bubbles rose to tickle her nose, but she was careful only to sip it. She knew that its flavor masked its intoxicating effect. She was disconcerted when everyone continued to tap their utensils after the toast, and startled when she felt Janeway’s hand on her arm, urging her around. Confused, she turned and was profoundly shocked when the captain kissed her, right there in front of what was essentially, the entire crew. She had known they were expected to kiss once at the ceremony, to signify the sealing of the covenant as it were, but she had no idea they were allowed to continue to do so at random intervals afterward.

She decided she rather liked this tradition and promptly kissed Kathryn back resoundingly.

“Only one per toast,” the captain murmured affectionately against her lips, smiling. “Otherwise, we’ll be here all night.”

“Ah,” Seven said, filing that one away.

She was gratified when, one by one, the rest of the wedding party stood up and formally toasted them. These were different from the salutes at the parties the night before. They seemed much more restrained and people only sipped at their drinks rather than gulped them down as so many had at those other celebrations. After every toast, she and Janeway kissed to the great applause and cheers of the crowd.

Seven had not known kissing was such a spectator sport.

After dinner, there was a gigantic, multi-layered cake adorned with two tiny female figures, a redhead and a blond, garbed respectively in what approximated a red and black Starfleet uniform and a silver body suit. It was wheeled out by Neelix and Samantha Wildman and together, Seven and Kathryn wielded the knife that made the first cut into the pastry, slicing off small pieces which they then fed to each other. Seven found the confection far too sweet for her liking and was glad that Janeway had only made her eat a tiny portion. Some people looked disappointed as if they expected the captain to have offered her a much larger piece, but Seven could not determine why.

Then there was the matter of the bouquet.

“Now Seven, I want you to turn around and throw the flowers over your shoulder,” B’Elanna instructed.

“Uh, Lieutenant,” Janeway began.

“It’s all right, Captain,” B’Elanna interrupted, holding up a hand to forestall the captain. “I know it’s sort of archaic and a trifle gender based, but Seven agreed to do it.”

“But B’Elanna …” Janeway tried again.

“Throw it, Seven,” the engineer said and glanced at the captain with what would have been annoyance toward anyone else. “Please, Captain, it’ll be fine.”

“But you didn’t … ” Janeway started, trailed off as Seven flung the bouquet over her shoulder, the flowers sailing some two meters over the heads of the waiting crewmembers before slamming into the wall at the far end of the holodeck with such force, the blossoms exploded into tiny bits of white and green. “Explain how hard to throw it,” the captain completed dryly.

“Seven,” B’Elanna protested, appalled.

A few feet away, Chakotay and Tom were bent over, laughing so hard they could barely remain on their feet. They didn’t seem to notice they were leaning on each other, a definite aberration for the two men who had always maintained an antagonistic relationship.

“I did not do it correctly,” Seven said shamefully.

“Don’t worry, Annika,” Janeway assured the Borg. “They’ll get over it.” She put her arm around Seven’s waist and squeezed as she grinned at B’Elanna who was regarding them both with exasperation, hands on her hips.

“You have to do the garters, at least.”

“All right,” Janeway remarked calmly, shocking both the engineer and the Borg. “Have a seat, Seven.”

This pronouncement was met with great glee by all concerned and hesitantly, Seven sat on the chair hastily provided by Harry Kim who, along with Chakotay and Tom, scurried to join the much larger crowd forming on the dance floor.

Seven leaned forward, putting her head next to the captain’s in order to whisper. “Are you sure, Kathryn? You have to reach under my dress to retrieve the garters. It seems somewhat … intimate.”

Janeway raised an eyebrow. “I promise not to touch anything I shouldn’t,” she said rakishly, which did not reassure the young woman at all.

Bemused, Seven removed her shoes and sat still as the captain knelt before her to the noisy approval of the crew, reaching under the long skirt. Seven bit her bottom lip as she felt the warm fingers of her partner run up the inside of her legs to the garters encircling her thighs. Her eyes met Kathryn’s, recognizing the humor in the blue-grey depths and she tried not to jump as the captain carefully removed the bands along with the stockings, sliding them off.

Seven watched in astonishment as the captain drew back the elasticized straps and shot the garters into the crowd, then repeated the act with the stockings. She didn’t see who ended up with what thought she thought she glimpsed Harry briefly hoist a garter triumphedly above his head in the melee that followed.

Kathryn laughed heartily and offered her hand to Seven who was replacing her shoes.

“We’re up.”

Seven did not quite comprehend that until she heard the music start. This was the beginning of the wedding ball and she realized they were expected to dance first. She swallowed hard and took the hand, grasping it tightly as they moved out onto the floor.

Janeway caught her breath as she moved into Seven’s embrace, holding onto her partner tightly as they swayed to the music generated by the holographic band at the far end of the dance floor.

“Did you choose this song?”

“We chose this song,” Seven corrected her. “Do you remember the night I offered you a selection of various songs and you said you preferred this one above all the rest?”

“Ah, yes, now I remember.” Janeway listened briefly to the words. “It’s appropriate.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Seven said softly. “I like it very much.”

Janeway wondered if she should be leading since she was wearing the uniform, and then decided that she was concentrating too much on the incidentals. She was glad to go along with most of the customs demanded of them, no matter how silly or inane she thought them, knowing that this event wasn’t just for her and Seven but for the entire Voyager family. But at this point, the evening was starting to lag and she felt the beginnings of a headache touch her temples. She decided that celebrating was harder on the system than fighting off an entire Hirogen hunting pack.

“How much longer must we remain?” Seven whispered, almost as if she had been reading the captain’s mind.

Janeway smiled and brushed her lips over the bottom of Seven’s chin. “Not much longer. There are only a few dances, then we can take our leave.” She squeezed the Borg lightly. “Are you tired?”

Seven set her jaw. “It is starting to become more a sense of obligation than celebration.”

“Just hang in there, love,” Janeway said comfortingly. “Only a while longer.”

“I will comply,” Seven said in such a resigned tone that Janeway laughed and pulled her close, nuzzling her throat lovingly.

They finished out the song and, as another began, they separated to choose other partners, Seven finding the Doctor, her mentor, while Janeway drew out Chakotay. With that signal, others joined them and soon the floor was filled. Song followed song as Chakotay found B’Elanna who hesitated but stepped out onto the floor with him before Tom Paris later cut in and left Chakotay dancing with Seven. It was like a battle, Janeway thought as she was propelled around the floor by a skilled, but unenthusiastic Tuvok. So many levels and so ritualistic, the different ebb and flow of the music a counterpoint to the various pairings going on.

She smiled a bit sadly as she saw Neelix and Samantha dancing cheek to cheek in the corner of the floor, aware that the couple was growing closer every single day. Not that it was necessarily her problem or business but the captain was still very aware that Ensign Wildman was married and had a husband waiting for her in the Alpha Quadrant. She noted that Harry and B’Elanna had found each other on the floor and for the first time, the engineer seemed to relax as the dark haired lieutenant danced with her. There was a little something there, Janeway thought but what exactly, she wasn’t sure.

She found she was looking for her partner, eyes searching the crowd and it was with a definite sense of relief that she was able to disengage from a crewmember from astrophysics with a charming smile. She immediately cut in on the somewhat inebriated young man from biometrics who was showing far too much interest in Seven’s cleavage.

“Ready to leave?” she asked the young woman with a gentle smile as she swept her away.

“I was prepared an hour ago,” Seven told her.

Of course, it wasn’t that easy. There were farewells and comments of gratitude to various people before they managed to make their way to the door and, of course, a group of high spirited partiers insisted on escorting them to their destination. Once there, they refused to leave until someone carried the other over the threshold. Technically, Janeway supposed it should have been her carrying Seven, but the impossibility of that was readily apparent and no one complained when Seven obligingly swept the captain up in her arms and carried her through the holodeck doors.

There was no question that when those doors to holodeck two finally closed behind them, the sudden privacy afforded them was like the peace after a turbulent storm. Seven carefully lowered Janeway to her feet and the pair of them took matching deep breaths, exhaling slowly as they looked around.

This was the crew’s gift to the couple, the honeymoon cottage. Many had given up their holodeck privileges while still others assisted in the programming of what was hoped would be the perfect romantic location. Certain of the crew were pulling double duty to cover for the captain and the astrometrics officer for the next seven days while the holodeck itself was locked from the inside with a high security seal that only the captain or Seven could countermand.

They were standing in the woodsy decor of a log cabin, a cheerful fire crackling in a huge fieldstone hearth, casting a golden glow over a huge, four-posted bed in the corner. Through the glass doors at one end of the room, the silvery light of the moon illuminated the soothing and steady rush of an ocean, and through another door, Janeway could see a huge whirlpool tub dominating the ensuite.

She took another long breath, this one of quiet pleasure and glanced at her partner who was still looking a bit flustered.

“Should I change first?” Seven asked uncertainly.

Janeway nodded but before Seven could go, the captain reached out and snagged her hand, forestalling her movement.

“I almost forgot to tell you,” Janeway said quietly, staring into her eyes. “You were so exquisitely beautiful today. I don’t even have the words to tell you how much it meant to me to see you walking toward me in that dress or how you looked standing next to me at the altar.”

Seven glanced down, blushing. “I am glad you liked how I appeared. I hoped that you would.”

“I did,” Janeway assured her. “Very much so.” She smiled and brushed a lock of the Borg’s hair from her forehead, her fingers lingering on Seven’s cheek. “I love you, my darling. I’m so pleased and honored to be married to you.”

Seven hugged her tightly, at a complete loss for words. “I love you, Kathryn,” she whispered fiercely. “Forever.”

Janeway kissed her gently, and then watched as the Borg disappeared into the bathroom. She shrugged out of her tunic and found another bottle of champagne already chilling in an ice bucket. She poured two more glasses, then looked up as Seven rejoined her, showered, face scrubbed clean, dressed in silken, silver pyjamas. Her feet were bare, and the captain thought she had never seen the Borg look so young and alluring.

She handed Seven the glass and clinked her own against it. “To us,” she said with another smile, both of them very aware that of all the toasts, this one meant the most.

“To us,” Seven responded, her eyes glowing as she looked at her partner, sipping at the golden liquid.

Janeway felt a rush of anticipation skitter down her back. “Now, you relax,” she instructed softly. “I’ll be right back,”

She smiled seductively at the young woman, put the glass down on the table and headed for the bathroom. As the captain expected, the suitcase she had packed and brought to the holodeck the day before was sitting on the floor next to Seven’s. On the wall, the wedding dress hung neatly from a hook and Janeway smiled wistfully as she saw it. She wondered if perhaps one day, someone else would wear it. Their offspring perhaps or possibly Naomi if they didn’t make it back to the Alpha Quadrant as soon as they hoped.

Janeway stripped off her uniform and took a quick shower before pulling out the new, wickedly designed ebony nightgown she had replicated especially for tonight. She quickly dabbed perfume at her various pulse points, and then brushed out her hair until it shone. She turned off the light and went into the bedroom, feeling tingles of desire reverberate through her.

Seven was asleep.

Stretched out across the bed on her back, eyes closed, hands folded neatly on her stomach, completely and totally oblivious to the rest of the universe.

Janeway stared at her in utter disbelief, and then, with a rueful shake of her head, she glanced down at the gown she had so carefully picked out, smiling softly to herself. She returned to the bathroom where she removed the gown, folding it neatly for another time. She pulled on a robe and returned to the bedroom, digging out some spare blankets from the chest at the foot of the bed. Tenderly, she covered her partner up before slipping out of the robe and crawling into bed next to Seven, curling up around her. Her head had barely hit the pillow before she too was fast asleep.

And thus did they spend their first night as married women … completely chaste.

Seven blinked, not knowing where she was. It took a few minutes to realize she was in the ‘honeymoon cottage’ and that she had fallen asleep the night before without performing the most important ritual … the consummation of the marriage. Stricken, she glanced down to see Janeway pressed against her, eyes closed, breathing evenly and peacefully through the elegantly structured nose.

Seven couldn’t believe it. She never fell asleep accidentally, only when she intended to. To have missed the most important night of her life … at least, those were B’Elanna’s words … was something she did not think she could ever forgive herself for. She felt tears sting her eyes and she blinked rapidly, trying to force them back before they spilled over.

She was not successful.

“Annika?”

Kathryn had awoken, had risen up on an elbow to look down at her with concern. Seven regarded her unhappily.

“I have failed.”

Janeway looked confused. “How so?”

“I did not consummate our wedding properly,” Seven responded in a shame filled voice. “I fell asleep.”

To Seven’s surprise, the captain chuckled and bent down, kissing her lips sweetly.

“Don’t even think like that, my darling.” Janeway tilted her head slightly as she looked at Seven with warm blue eyes. “Annika, yesterday was probably the most emotionally demanding day we will ever experience in our entire lives. I admit, I felt a little disappointed when I came out and saw you were asleep, but truthfully, the second I lay down next to you, I was unconscious, too. Obviously, we were both completely exhausted, and that’s hardly the time to try to make love.”

Seven considered that uncertainly. “But is it not a tradition to do so the night of the wedding?”

“Believe me,” Janeway told her intently, “I’d much rather make love with you this morning and enjoy it thoroughly, than make an attempt last night that neither of us would have been able to fully appreciate. Don’t ever let expectations or tradition get in the way of happiness, Annika.”

Seven felt great relief. “I was concerned.”

Janeway smiled at her, brushing away Seven’s few tears with gentle fingertips. “Don’t be,” she advised softly. Her eyes searched the young woman’s face for a moment, then her smile widened. “We’re married.”

Seven felt her breath catch in her throat. “Yes,” she agreed, her voice low so that she could control the quaver in it.

“Any regrets?”

“No,” Seven responded instantly in a shocked tone, eyes wide.

Janeway kissed her lightly. “Me either,” she said reassuringly. “In fact, it’s the smartest thing I shall ever do in my life.”

Since Janeway was probably the most intelligent person Seven had ever met, that was a profound assessment indeed. Seven wrapped her arms around the small woman and hugged her tightly, suddenly aware that the captain wore nothing while the Borg still had her pyjamas on. For some reason, this made her feel shy, though that made no logical sense.

“Would you like me to remove my garments?” she asked tentatively.

Janeway’s eyes took on an amused sparkle. “Why Annika, whatever did you have in mind?”

The playful tone served to relax Seven and she smiled back at the captain. “I think I would like to be as comfortable as you appear to be.”

“Then by all means,” Janeway said, moving away slightly. “I’d hate to think you weren’t comfortable.”

Seven sat up and pulled off her pyjama top, then wiggled out of the pants, tossing them toward the foot of the bed. She snuggled back down in the warm spot beside Kathryn, gathering up the captain in her arms, the delicious sensation of bare warm flesh on her own like a homecoming.

“I am confused,” she admitted into the captain’s ear as she pressed against her. “I want to make love to you so much, yet at the same time, I want to just lie here and hold you close to me.”

Janeway made a quiet sound of agreement, nuzzling Seven’s neck. “I know exactly what you mean,” she responded in a murmur. “It’s so nice to be together like this. As if the worst is over and now there’s only the future stretching before us.” She raised her head and softly brushed her lips over Seven’s. “There’s no rush, my darling. Time is something we have plenty of this week.”

“That is the gift that Voyager’s crew has given us,” Seven allowed thoughtfully. “This time together. I had not realized how wonderful it was going to be.”

“Hmm, we must remember to write each and every one of them a really nice ‘thank you’ note,” Janeway remarked, humor threading through her voice.

Seven kissed her gently, filing the comment away in her eidetic memory. “I shall be sure to remind you.”

Janeway kissed her back. “You do that.”

They kissed again. Then again. It was wonderfully cozy, snuggled together in the warm nest of brightly patterned blankets and pillows, holding each other close. The kisses increased in duration but not in intensity, gentle kisses that held desire at bay for the moment though it lurked just outside, waiting its chance to sweep them away. Seven could not remember ever feeling this happy or secure, nor so comfortable at just being with her partner. There was no sense of urgency or demand … just love, simple and easy.

Perhaps because we have no other demands upon us. Seven knew that could make a difference.

Not so long ago but before Janeway’s injury that cost her memories, a disaster involving a shuttle undergoing a slip stream drive experiment resulted in Seven and Janeway’s being stranded on a planet for three weeks. The captain had tried to look at it positively, had called it a ‘vacation’ but while Seven had enjoyed their time together, there had always been an underlying edginess between them. Not necessarily because of the fact they were required to survive the elements … that had turned out to be relatively simple … but the fact that Janeway had been away from her ship. The captain had tried extremely hard to hide it, had appeared outwardly relaxed and composed, but Seven had sensed her partner’s unease on some subconscious level. She recognized it now in retrospect because of how effortless this was; the captain was completely assured that her vessel was safe, yet not required to be responsible for it the next seven days.

“You know,” Janeway said idly, between kisses. “I don’t think I’ve ever made love in a holodeck.”

Seven hesitated. “Actually, you have.”

Janeway blinked, drawing back to look at Seven. “I have?”

Seven smiled faintly. “We spent one evening in the holodeck, exploring our ‘fantasies’. Yours was to make love on the bridge in your command chair.”

“Oh my god,” Janeway muttered. “I can’t believe I ever told anyone that. Anywhere else?”

“No. Why?”

“I have this mental image of you undressing by the couch in my Ready Room,” the captain said, looking thoughtful. “I was wondering if we had ever been intimate in there.”

Seven considered it and finally remembered what Kathryn was referring to. “No, we were not intimate. It was a … misunderstanding on my part very early in our relationship.”

“Ah.” Janeway nibbled at Seven’s bottom lip. “Have you ever wanted to make love anyplace other than our quarters?” There was an intrigued note in her voice.

“That was why we spent the evening in the holodeck,” Seven told her honestly. “Making love on the conference table before the senior bridge crew during a staff meeting is not a practical thing to do in reality.”

Plainly startled, Janeway regarded her with a crooked grin. “I should say not.” She tilted her head. “I hadn’t realized you were such an exhibitionist.”

Seven raised an eyebrow. “I was merely curious, but I believe if you had the opportunity, you would actually make love in the real command chair.”

Janeway stared at her a moment, then her lips twitched and she lowered her eyes, a pink flush tinting her cheeks. “I’m taking the fifth on that.”

Seven nuzzled her. “Perhaps that is wise,” she agreed, understanding the phrase because she had been involved in a court martial. “Because I would do my best to make your fantasies a reality.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Janeway’s eyes were bright with mirth. She paused, then assumed that expression that Seven had learned to be somewhat wary of, as if the captain had accomplished something she thought particularly clever though not necessarily beneficial to all involved. “You know, I brought it along.”

Seven stared at her blankly. “Brought what along?”

Janeway wiggled her eyebrows slyly. “You know … ‘it’.”

Seven raised an eyebrow. “You did?” She glanced around as if expecting the object in question to suddenly leap out at her from a place of concealment. “Where is it?”

“At the bottom of my suitcase.” Janeway crooked an eyebrow at Seven rakishly. “I was thinking that we could try it out … seeing as we’re on our honeymoon and all.”

Seven blinked. “That would be … acceptable.”. Then she frowned faintly, regarding her spouse suspiciously. “You will not laugh when I use it?”

Janeway smiled widely. “I’ll try to restrain myself, but even if I can’t, isn’t that part of the fun?”

Seven tried to understand that. “Sometimes I am still not sure why you find things amusing.”

Janeway studied her a moment, then hugged her tightly. “Annika, love, if I do laugh, it’s never at you, but sometimes I would like you to learn how to laugh with me at various things.”

Seven nodded. “I will try.” She ran her hands lightly down the captain’s back, feeling each little ridge of bone beneath her fingertips. Gently she kissed Janeway again, lingering a bit this time. “Would you like to try it now?”

“Mmm, that would require one of us to go retrieve it,” Janeway pointed out, smiling briefly. “I don’t think I want to leave this nice warm spot and I know for a fact that I don’t want you to leave me for a second either.”

“Perhaps at a later time then.” Seven nibbled briefly on the captain’s earlobe.

Janeway purred deep in her throat. “Good plan.”

They kissed again, deeply now, slow, openly tasting each other with quiet pleasure.

“Besides,” Janeway murmured. “I think we’re about to become very busy.”

Seven kissed her again.

“You are absolutely correct.”

The water was a crystal blue while below, the bottom was vibrant with a multitude of colors and textures. Janeway swam lithly through the blood warm sea, breathing easily through the respirator as she passed over the reef below. To her right, Seven’s slim form knifed silver through the water, pacing her as they slipped through the gold and red fish schooling about them.

Janeway knew that they could easily do this without the diving equipment since the holodeck would not let them drown, but the real key to enjoying this honeymoon was for them to accept it totally, believing as hard as they could that they were actually spending a week in the Caribbean islands. To that end, the crew had made the simulation as realistic as possible. There had even been a rude waiter the previous evening in the local nightclub located about a kilometer down the beach from their cottage. Seven had been appalled but Janeway accepted it for the clever bit of programming it was and merely laughed it off.

The captain was truly enjoying herself. A discrete and very brief call to Chakotay every morning while Seven was otherwise occupied assured Janeway that her ship was functioning perfectly. That allowed her to concentrate completely on being with her spouse the rest of the time as they swam and played in the warm sea, took long walks on the beach, and sunned themselves on the spacious deck. Evenings found them enjoying a variety of dinner experiences at the nightclub that never seemed to serve the same type of food twice. Janeway did not think she would ever get over the sight of Seven attempting to eat lobster from the shell.

And of course, they made love. A lot.

A shadow darkened the water suddenly and Janeway looked up, startled as the deadly, torpedo shape of a tiger shark went over them. She hesitated, floating as the predator circled back, easing lazily around them before it abruptly turned and rushed toward her. Paralyzed, her eyes wide behind the mask, she could only stare helplessly as its rounded head with its huge mouth gaped open, the rows of razor teeth ready to slash at her.

Then Seven was in front of her, slamming her mesh covered left hand down across its skull. Dazed, it drifted to the bottom before shaking itself briefly and swimming hurriedly away.

Janeway was amazed to find she was chilled and trembling. When Seven motioned with her thumb, jerking it upward to indicate they should surface, the captain was hard pressed to ascend in a collected manner rather than the panicked thrashing she wanted to do.

She spat out her mouthpiece and gulped in lungfuls of the salt sweet air, blinking as Seven treaded water a few feet away, observing her curiously.

“What the hell was that?” the captain yelped.

Seven raised an eyebrow. “A tiger shark. Undoubtedly B’Elanna’s contribution. I believe she feels that R&R without a certain amount of risk is not worth the effort.” She drifted closer. “It would not really have hurt you, you know.”

Janeway felt her heart finally slow its rapid thumping. “I know,” she said, embarrassed. She had actually managed to forget it was a simulation for those few terrified moments. “I just … I was diving off Australia’s Barrier Reef one summer during my Academy days and had a similar experience with a great white. If I hadn’t been in a cage … well, let’s just say it was very real, and very frightening. This suddenly took me back.”

“I do not believe it was B’Elanna’s intention to frighten you. It was intended to enhance the program.”

Janeway shot a look at her. “I’m sure it was. Remind me to ‘enhance’ her duty shift once we’re finished our honeymoon.”

Seven eyed her briefly, apparently decided she was being facetious and smiled faintly. “Do you wish to resume our dive?”

“No, I’ve had enough excitement for one day. Let’s go in.”

They swam toward the beach, allowing the waves to carry them onto the shore where they removed their equipment. Carrying their flippers and respirators, they crossed the expanse of white sand and emerald lawn to the cottage, entering through the glass doors off the deck.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Janeway said over her shoulder as she dumped her diving equipment on a chair and headed for the ensuite.

She stood for a long time under the warm spray, getting rid of the accumulation of salt and sand, though a quick request to the computer would have accomplished the same thing in a fraction of the time. When she came out, toweling her hair dry, Seven had built a fire in the stone hearth and the sun was setting magnificently over the ocean, the last rays illuminating the gleams in the oak stained wooden floor.

“Shall we stay in this evening?” Janeway asked as she settled onto the thick, bearskin rug beside Seven, accepting the glass of Chardonnay the Borg offered.

“I would like that,” Seven responded, favoring her with an approving glance. “I’m sure we can replicate something.”

The young woman had changed out of her swimsuit and was now garbed in a short black robe, her blond hair spilling over her shoulders as she reclined against several throw pillows propped up against the bear’s head. The fire crackled cozily, casting flickering shadows over the long lean legs that were golden in the flame’s glow. Janeway felt her heart start to pound again, this time for a much more pleasant reason, and wondered if it were permissible for a Starfleet captain to be this happy. Somehow, she thought, someone must have written a regulation against running a ship from the holodeck while in the company of an exquisitely gorgeous woman.

Seven seemed lost in thought, her pale eyes reflecting the fire as she stared into it. The full lips were far too inviting for Janeway and the captain leaned over, pulling Seven’s face to her, kissing her spouse gently.

“A penny,” she murmured.

“Kathryn?”

Janeway smiled. “A penny for your thoughts,” she clarified. “What were you thinking just now?”

Seven turned the rest of her body so that she was angled more to her partner, raising a hand to gently stroke Janeway’s cheek. “Many things,” she admitted as her pale eyes searched Janeway’s face. “How wonderful it is to be here with you. How much I enjoyed being with you today. I think that if I could spend the rest of my life just existing in your presence, I would never need for anything else.”

Janeway put her glass of wine down and bent closer, leaning against the Borg as she looked deep into the young woman’s gaze.

“Annika, you say the most wonderful things to me, and what’s even more incredible is that you mean every single word.”

Seven blinked, confusion shading her eyes. “Of course I mean every word. Why else would I say them?”

Janeway shook her head, smiling ruefully. “I hope you never find out.” She kissed her, slowly, lingering over the lips with a complete and utter pleasure.

Seven made a soft sound in her throat and Janeway felt the strong arms encircle her, drawing her down until they were both stretched out on the rug, the captain resting on top of the lanky blond. Gentle hands began to caress Janeway through her robe, and they kissed again. Janeway thought there could be no better sensation than this, the warmth of this body against her, the love and caring that surrounded her palpably, the perfect taste of her partner’s mouth on her own, the sense of sweet desire and slowly rising anticipation.

She opened her eyes, drawing back for a moment so she could look at the beloved features that regarded her with devotion and a quiet longing. Then, from the corner of her eye, the captain glimpsed a box sitting innocuously on the coffee table a few feet away.

“Oh dear,” Janeway murmured, smiling. “Is tonight the night?”

Seven followed her gaze and blushed faintly. “If you would like,” she responded in such a completely noncommital voice that Janeway was forced to grin, feeling a playful wickedness dance up her spine.

“Well, why not?” She stretched out her arm, reaching over to the table, barely able to get her fingertips on the plain wooden box. She inched it toward her, finally able to grasp it firmly and bring it over to her. She placed it on the floor and used her fingernail to undo the clasp, lifting up the cover.

Inside lay the Wonder Wand 9000.

Nestled in a bed of midnight blue velvet, the adult toy displayed its full length of thirty inches, looking far more formidable than it actually was, shaded a flat metallic grey and resembling humanoid male genitalia, devoid of any particular species characteristic or trait. The devices were constructed by the Ferengi’s novelty manufacturing sector as an all purpose sexual aid, purchased by Starfleet to stock on their ships as part of the continuing effort to keep their officers content and happy on those long, deep space journeys. It boasted a variety of features and abilities intended to make anyone who selected it from the recreational data bank acceptably satisfied with its performance.

Janeway felt a snicker rise in her throat and she clamped down on it, having promised herself she wouldn’t laugh. Not with her partner so close by, observing her with a vaguely wary expression.

“You will note that I had all of Jake’s teeth marks removed,” Seven offered helpfully.

The laughter exploded out of Janeway and she collapsed on top of her partner helplessly. She heard Seven sigh gustily which only increased the captain’s consuming mirth until finally, weakly, Janeway subsided.

“Are you quite finished?” Seven remarked.

“I think so,” Janeway said, before muffling another round of chuckles into the Borg’s chest.

Seven stared at her, then shook her head briefly as if filing this away as just another idiosyncrasy of her partner’s personality. She rose to her elbow, looking into the box with interest.

“Is there a particular method by which you would like to attempt this?”

Janeway shook her head. “I think we’ll just have to wing it.” She eyed the simulated phallus judiciously and then glanced at Seven. “Let’s get undressed and you can try it on first.” She hesitated. “For size.” Then snickered audibly.

Seven pointedly ignored her and sat up, shrugging out of her robe as Janeway followed suit. Nude, the captain sat cross-legged and watched as Seven removed the artificial penis from the box and placed the larger end of the device against herself. Janeway knew there was an orifice that would surround the young woman’s clitoris, the sensors transmitting sensation to the little bundle of nerves, allowing the wearer to experience the impression that she had been … extended considerably. Tendrils erupted from the base, encircling Seven’s hips and connecting to the construct beneath. Once secured, the device could not be removed other than by a command from the external transmitter.

Janeway fished that out from the box, the remote control fitting neatly into the palm of her hand. She looked at the huge phallus towering over Seven’s groin, caught between another bout of laughter and being impressed in spite of herself.

“First thing’s first,” she said, swallowing her grin. “Let’s adjust this to something that won’t give me nightmares.”

Seven raised an eyebrow, reclining against the pillows as she split her attention between her partner and the artificial penis which was now attached to her. Janeway examined the controls, noting that the species setting was currently set on Horath mode, the hulking aliens from the high gravity planet that lay not too far from the Romulan Neutral zone. She knew they were big but she hadn’t realized just how ‘big’ the males truly were. So the rumors shared after hours in the Starfleet Academy dorms had been accurate after all. She keyed in the Human option, the phallus immediately reducing in size by almost two and a half feet. A selection of parameters within the Human mode appeared in the tiny viewscreen, allowing the device to be further altered in order that a perfect fit could be achieved. She amused herself for several minutes increasing and decreasing the length and thickness with keen precision.

“Will this take much longer?” Seven offered finally with forced patience, having been forced to lay there as the phallus expanded and contracted with what appeared to be random intent.

“Sorry,” Janeway mumbled and hastily made her final adjustment so that the fleshy cylinder was now approximately six inches long and about an inch and a quarter in diameter.

Seven regarded it contemplatively.

“Is that large enough?” she asked doubtfully.

“You’ve been listening too much to B’Elanna,” Janeway said dryly. “Believe me, it’ll do for starters. It’s been a while.” She examined the controls again, looking at the other features. “Now I have to set the color.”

“I really like blue,” Seven said hopefully.

Janeway eyed her briefly. “I think not.”

The captain altered the shade by miniscule degrees until she had achieved a Caucasian flesh tone approximating Seven’s skin color. Janeway glanced at it, and then was forced to stare, startled by how that simple adjustment abruptly made everything seem very accurate in its appearance. The captain felt a shiver of desire ripple through her, a fine sheen of perspiration breaking out over her entire body as her nipples hardened in the air that seemed far too warm all of a sudden.

As amusing as all this was, it was also serving to excite her. There was something wantonly appealing about Seven lying there with what appeared to be quite natural, fully aroused male genitalia sprouting from the thatch of fine blond hair that made up her very feminine triangle. Not to mention the incongruity of the firm, shapely breasts rising so proudly from her chest.

No one can say that human sexuality doesn’t take one into some odd situations, Janeway thought wryly as she regarded her partner.

“How does that feel?” Unaware that her voice had just dropped into a husky trill.

Seven blinked. “I don’t know.” She tentatively reached out and touched the tip of it, jerking a little. “Oh!”

Intrigued, Janeway also reached out and wrapped her fingers around the head. It felt quite warm and very real … if her memories of previous lovers served her correctly … and she could swear she could almost feel the throb of pulse within.

“I … that feels very good,” Seven said in an odd tone. “More than good.”

“Does it?” Janeway said idly, running her fingertips down the length, tracing the ragged line beneath the penis to the soft sac of simulated testicles, prodding them carefully. It was, she noted, very well constructed and extremely realistic.

“Oh, Kathryn.”

Janeway glanced at her, raising an eyebrow as she saw how much Seven’s respiration had increased, the full breasts heaving as she tried to catch her breath. The Borg was in a full state of arousal, very close to an actual orgasm if Janeway could read the signs correctly. Bemused, she eyed the controls again.

“Ah,” she said with sudden understanding, “there’s a way to moderate the sensitivity. Right now it’s at the highest setting.” She grinned at Seven. “I don’t believe you’d be paying much attention to me at that level.”

“Indeed,” Seven remarked, swallowing hard.

Janeway adjusted the setting, testing each level by fondling the firm, fleshy rod. Seven climaxed three times before the captain finally found one that she thought would be suitable.

“Are you ready?” Janeway asked, tilting her head as she looked at Seven who was sprawled on her back, limp and sated even as the phallus stood firm.

“I am finished,” Seven noted weakly.

“Oh darling,” Janeway protested. “Not yet.”

She lay down next to her, wrapping her arms around the lanky torso and kissing the young woman passionately. Seven perked up almost immediately and returned the kisses with steadily increasing interest. Janeway shivered as she felt the warm length of Seven press against her, the sensation of the phallus trapped between their bodies, prodding her in the navel, sending chills of anticipation through her even as the sensation felt very odd in this most familiar of embraces.

Loving hands moved over her skin with accomplished skill and when Seven bent her head to mouth the captain’s breasts, licking and sucking on the nipples tenderly, Janeway responded with a cry and a sudden flood of moisture between her legs. Seven pulled her closer and began to roll them over.

“Uh, no, sweetheart,” Janeway said, pushing Seven back. “Not like that. Not yet, anyway.”

Obligingly, Seven settled onto her back once more, propping herself upright on her elbows.

“Stay still,” the captain ordered in a low voice as she threw her leg over the Borg, straddling the young woman’s hips as she rested her weight on her knees.

Janeway reached down between them and found the warm, simulated flesh, guiding it to the opening between her legs. She gasped as she felt the mushroom top press against her wetness, and she dipped the tip into that pool of moisture before sliding it up to rub against her sensitive ridge of flesh, moving it back and forth, swirling around her nub with delicious pressure.

“Oh, Kathryn,” Seven moaned. She shuddered and Janeway knew her partner had just climaxed once more. The captain laughed huskily, feeling the undeniable need ripple through her.

“Darling, if you were male, you’d be completely useless to me by now.”

Seven didn’t answer. She just looked up at her lover with eyes full of desire and eager anticipation for the next new sensation.

Janeway returned the head of the phallus back to her opening, anointing it with her moisture, glad that lubrication did not seem to be a problem. She eased down onto it, gasping as it pressed against her and she wondered if she had made it too big after all. She quivered when it abruptly penetrated past the first restrictive band of muscle, pushing smoothly into her, filling her with its hardness.

“Don’t move,” she muttered, feeling Seven stir beneath her. “Not yet.”

Seven went completely rigid, every muscle tense. “It is difficult to obey,” she replied, her voice strained. “I want to … I want to push upward. It feels so good.”

“You’ll get your chance,” Janeway promised, biting her lip as she sank downward until the full length of it was finally inside. Her head had fallen back and she swallowed, opening her eyes to look down at Seven who was shivering. She smiled sensually, breathing hard. “You like that?”

“It feels like I am inside you, Kathryn,” Seven said, trying to explain. “As if your vagina is surrounding my clitoris.”

Janeway laughed again. “Damn, these things are always built for the male perspective, aren’t they?” She began to ascend slowly. “Don’t move,” she reminded in a throaty voice. “Not until I tell you.”

“I will comply.”

Janeway rose until just the tip remained inside her before lowering herself once more. Gradually she increased the motion, rocking on Seven as she got used to the feel of it, adjusting her angle until she found one that suited her. She groaned deeply when Seven slid her hand down to where they were joined, her fingertips seeking out Janeway’s little nubbin of flesh, rubbing it back and forth.

“Oh god, yes, Annika,” she moaned. “Now you can move.”

She felt Seven’s hips began to push against her, the narrow loins lifting her before they managed to find a complimentary rhythm, Seven drawing back as Janeway rose, then thrusting upward as the captain settled down. Janeway panted, letting out a little cry every time Seven’s groin met hers, the sensation of their copulation becoming extremely real, as if it were indeed her partner inside as opposed to some replication. She rested her hands on Seven’s chest, over the Borg’s generous breasts, her palms unable to cover them completely, the combined feel of the feminine and masculine attributes wildly confusing but incredibly erotic and intense. She felt her heart pound as Seven’s fingers steadily increased their rapid fondling, swirling around her nub with delicate precision. Janeway felt the desire build and build, sweeping her up, the experience overwhelming her with the sheer physicality of it all.

Then Seven was rolling them over and this time Janeway did not protest. She spread her legs wide around Seven’s driving hips and felt the center of herself open to the remarkably controlled and even motion. And it was no longer a matter of male or female, it was just Annika, the person she utterly adored, making love to her with passion and joy, the body covering her, hot and slick from Janeway’s sweat. Seven grunted softly as she thrust, seeming to reach a little deeper inside with every stroke as Janeway encouraged her, the words spilling from her lips, guttural and unquestionably profane, urging her lover on harder and faster until abruptly, Janeway was there, her orgasm catching her like a wave. She dug her nails into the sinuous back without restraint, clawing at Seven as she spasmed and cried out.

And she came again as Seven continued to thrust into her until finally, the young woman climaxed one final time, this one leaving her slumped bonelessly on Kathryn who fought to catch her own breath.

Cradling her lover in her arms.

“Darling, it’s perfectly all right,” Kathryn murmured, her body pressed against Seven’s as she rested on her, her tousled auburn hair falling over her forehead into her eyes. “It’s not for everyone.”

Seven swallowed hard, feeling confused and disheveled. The firelight sent odd shadows across the ceiling and she watched them chase each other through the heavy wooden beams.

“But …” Seven hesitated, and took a breath. “You have been with men and enjoyed it. B’Elanna boasts of how good it feels to have a large erection inside her. What is wrong with me?”

“There is nothing wrong with you, darling,” Janeway insisted. “And I can assure you that while I enjoyed being with men and B’Elanna may brag about size, we both had to … adjust to being penetrated. Obviously when you care about the man, and he cares about you, you learn to enjoy it a lot quicker but it still takes time and patience.” She bent her head closer for emphasis, resting her forehead on Seven’s. “In any event, Annika, I’m not a man.”

Seven was silent. “I would still love you,” she offered finally. “If you were, I mean.”

Janeway smiled. “I’m glad. I know I would love you too.” She paused, thinking hard. “Darling, we’re all individuals, and we all like different things. It can be fun to try new sensations but nowhere does it say we have to enjoy everything we attempt.”

“If you were a man…” Seven began.

“If I were a man, I doubt very much we’d be having this conversation,” Kathryn interjected smoothly. “There would be a certain motivation for you to adjust because male/female lovemaking generally includes penile penetration on a regular basis. That’s not the issue here. Regardless of whether or not you use the device on me in the future, clearly you don’t enjoy being penetrated in the same way. I do know that you are remarkably … tight. Two fingers are usually all I can get in you, so it’s not surprising you wouldn’t want anything larger than that. Unfortunately, the device simply cannot be made that narrow and while I know we could replicate a more specialized device, or that through time and patience, you could adapt and be able to accept penetration without pain using this one, there’s no reason for you to make that effort with me. It’s simply not necessary.”

“But if you enjoy using the device, then I should learn how to accept it,” Seven said slowly.

“No,” Kathryn said firmly in a voice that did not invite debate. She frowned and paused, searching for the proper words. “Darling, if you’re not experiencing pleasure, then neither am I. Forget the device for a moment. Do you honestly think I would enjoy you making love to me if I thought you disliked the sensation? Or conversely, would you want me to make love to you if you thought I hated how it felt?”

Seven thought about that. “I cannot even imagine that.”

“Exactly. Darling, I enjoyed this experience, not only because the sensation of being penetrated feels good to me but also because I knew you were feeling a great deal of pleasure as well. When we reversed position, I was curious as to how it would feel to be inside you, especially after having witnessed your responses, but darling, only because I thought you would like it. As soon as I saw you turn your head away while I was trying to enter you, all the pleasure I was experiencing immediately stopped.”

“I thought I could … adapt,” Seven admitted quietly. “But it was very uncomfortable.”

“I could tell. That’s why I asked you what was wrong.” Janeway put her fingers under Seven’s chin and lifted her face until their eyes met. “Darling, I shouldn’t have had to ask you. The second you find you’re not enjoying something, you have to tell me. I need to know.”

Seven hugged her and rested her cheek against Kathryn’s, closing her eyes. “Until tonight, nothing we did while making love ever made me uncomfortable, but I promise to be more forthcoming in the future.”

“Please,” Kathryn whispered into her ear. “I only want you to have pleasure, Annika. Never pain. Never.”

She kissed her gently and Seven accepted the caring and concern from her partner through that most loving of connections.

“What do you want to do now?” Seven asked softly, after they had parted.

“First, I’m going to take this thing off,” Janeway said and Seven smiled faintly, feeling the device prodding into her side as the captain shifted uncomfortably. “Then we’re going to take a long, lovely bath together before we scrounge up dinner. After that, I’m going to take you to bed and absolutely feast on you, my darling. I want to wake up in the morning with your taste in my mouth, with it painted across my lips, with your flavor residing on my tongue like a kiss.”

Seven raised an eyebrow. “Sometimes you say the most wonderful things to me as well.”

Janeway laughed. “I try.”

She eased away from Seven’s embrace and sat up, settling cross-legged on the rug as the phallus jutted up from between her legs. Her body was glistening red and gold in the firelight, slickly silken with bodily fluids. Seven thought that only Kathryn could look so completely composed and elegant while sitting naked in such a fashion. The Borg felt desire stir within her again.

“Will you let me sit on your face?” Seven asked hopefully.

Janeway glanced up, making a small twitch of distaste with her mouth. “Darling, please don’t say it like that.”

Seven blinked. “But…” she began.

“I know it shouldn’t matter,” Janeway went on in a lecturing tone, “but there are more … romantic ways to talk about sexual positions. Saying it like that gives it a crassness and that detracts from the experience.”

“But…” Seven tried again.

“Honestly,” Janeway added, her eyes roving over the floor as she looked around. “I think sometimes you pick up too many expressions from B’Elanna.”

“I did not adapt that expression from B’Elanna.”

Janeway raised an eyebrow. “No?”

“No, you used it with me during the night you were intoxicated.”

Janeway stared at her. “Oh.” She resumed her visual scan of the floor, obviously not wanting to pursue that particular line of conversation. She abruptly changed the subject. “Where the hell is it?”

Seven sat up. “What are you looking for?”

“The remote. This thing won’t come off without it.”

Seven considered that for a moment. She wondered if this was a situation where she was required to share amusement with Kathryn. But Janeway did not seem particularly amused, and Seven decided that perhaps she should not be either.

“This could prove … awkward,” she offered finally.

At this point, Janeway was up on her hands and knees, crawling about the floor as she looked for the elusive control. The phallus dangled ludicrously from her groin, waving back and forth like some form of sensing probe.

Seven bit her bottom lip. Suddenly she understood a little of the captain’s mirthful attitude toward the device.

“Where the hell did it get to?” Janeway snapped with a touch of annoyance, looking under the sofa.

“Where did you last have it?” Seven asked as she also rose to her hands and knees, hoping that joining in the search would keep her from saying something that would reveal her amusement at the captain’s predicament. She had to keep swallowing the snicker that insisted on rising in her throat, suspecting that Janeway would not appreciate it.

“If I knew that,” Janeway noted, a trifle acerbic, “I would know where to look now. I know I had it just after I put this thing on. After all, I had to adjust it to your liking.” She glanced down at herself, assuming an expression of disgust. “I really wish you hadn’t insisted on the tiger-striped pattern.”

“I thought it would make it more … attractive,” Seven protested mildly. “You would not let me make it the blue that glows in the dark.”

“It would have looked like I had a nuclear cooling rod attached to myself,” Janeway said grouchily.

They searched for a few more minutes as Janeway grew increasingly more agitated, and finally, Seven sent a mental signal to her cranial implant, adjusting her ocular orb to scan for transmitters emitting a certain frequency. She found the small device under the rug and handed it to Janeway who hastily removed the Wonder Wand 9000 with a heartfelt sigh of relief.

“Annika, I don’t think we’ll be using this too often,” the captain noted as she carried it along with its case to the ensuite. “It’s just too inconvenient.”

Seven followed her. “Perhaps we could attach a chain to the remote which would bind it to the accessory. That way, it would never become lost.”

She did not understand why Janeway thought that was an unreasonable suggestion.

The sun through the french doors woke Janeway as it tumbled across her eyelids and she sighed quietly, turning her face away from the intrusive light. She debated commanding the computer to turn the simulation back to night again, but they had made it this long without altering anything in the program and she hated to change that on their last day.

She opened her eyes as that thought sank in and she found herself staring forlornly at the ocean outside their cottage. It had been such a wonderful honeymoon, relaxing, loving, and best of all, totally uninterrupted. She wondered what time they were expected to ‘check out’ of the holodeck and how long she could delay the inevitable.

Seven stirred beside her and Janeway felt the tender arms encircle her, pulling her close.

“We must return to our quarters today,” the Borg murmured against the captain’s hair.

“I was just thinking that,” Janeway responded softly, snuggling against her. “I could easily take another week of this … or another year.”

Seven hesitated as if about to argue, then she must have realized that her partner was not being serious and kissed her forehead instead. “I too, could remain here for another year.”

Janeway smiled and closed her eyes, nuzzling her face into the warm hollow of Seven’s neck and shoulder. She could feel the younger woman’s pulse flutter beneath her cheek, steady and strong and she kissed it as Seven’s hands started to move over her, stroking her with gentle passion. They began each day now with long, leisurely lovemaking and the captain hoped it was a tradition that would continue.

The sudden jolt sent the bed skidding across the room to slam into the wall and the couple instinctively flattened against the mattress. The force of the collision sent Seven tumbling into the bulkhead with a muted thud and an expulsion of breath as the captain tumbled into her. Dazedly, Janeway struggled to free herself from the bedding even as Seven tried to do the same. There was another lurch as they stumbled out of bed and the captain was hard pressed not to fall, saved only by the strong hand that snaked out and grabbed her elbow.

“What is happening?” Seven asked as they ran for the ensuite where the closet held all their garments.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

The simulation suddenly ended, flickering at first before disappearing to leave Janeway and Seven standing naked in the stark holo-grid. Fortunately, most of what they had worn the past week was real, brought in from their own wardrobes, and they scrambled to gather up some clothes from the piles of bathing suits, burmuda shorts and short sleeved shirts that were scattered over the deck.

“Damn,” Janeway muttered, grabbing some underwear and the only uniform she had brought … the full dress whites she had been married in. “So much for the honeymoon.”

“At least the crisis waited until it was almost over.”

Janeway was astonished and somewhat chagrined to see that her partner had already pulled on her brown mesh bodysuit and was now doing up her hair. The captain hastily pulled on her trousers and threw on the uniform jacket over the snowy under tunic. Her boots took a little longer and by the time she was done, Seven was already at the door that was stubbornly refusing to open.

Seven quickly pried off the panel and looked at the circuitry. “There appears to be a short.” She started to work.

Janeway waited impatiently, curbing the urge to push her partner aside and tackle the job herself, well aware that the Borg was quicker and more adept at this sort of thing. Seven cross-linked some power relays and with grudging reluctance, the large doors parted enough for them to get through.

The corridor was awash with the sickly gold of a yellow alert status, crewmembers scurrying for their stations. Janeway wondered why Chakotay had not contacted her. Firming her jaw, she strode briskly down the hall, heading for the turbolift.

“Do you want me in Astrometrics?” Seven asked, flanking her right.

“No, you’re with me,” Janeway barked as they plunged into the lift. “Bridge.” She tapped her comm badge. “Captain to the bridge. Report.”

“Captain, we’re under attack,” Tuvok’s voice came over the communicator. “Commander Chakotay and Lt. Paris were out in the Delta Flyer when they ran into an ambush. When we attempted a rescue, the alien vessels turned on us.”

Janeway frowned, annoyed that the security chief hadn’t thought to call her at the first encounter, especially with the first officer off the ship.

“Perhaps communications could not get through to the holodeck,” Seven said then, as if reading her mind. “The short that froze the doors appeared to have occurred with the initial attack. The power couplings involved also control the comm system.”

“That may be the only thing that keeps me from yelling at someone,” Janeway muttered. She was glad when Seven did not point out that Tuvok would be totally impervious to the captain’s ire in any event. Yelling at Vulcans was a very good way to look idiotic.

The captain tried not to fidget as the lift seemed to take forever to ascend. The doors finally opened, and they both plunged onto the bridge. On the viewscreen at the front of the command center, a star-dusted backdrop highlighted several small, maneuverable vessels that darted and flew at the Federation starship, green bursts of light shooting from them to impact on Voyager’s screens with minor results. Seven immediately took up a position aft of the command chairs, accessing the auxiliary tactical/operations station. The captain remained standing, frowning as she looked at Tuvok who was replacing an ensign at his customary tactical post.

“Why didn’t you contact me?”

Tuvok raised an eyebrow. “The level of the alien technology poses no real danger. It was entirely unnecessary to ‘interrupt’ you.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, Tuvok. Besides, when the bed starts flying across the room and slamming into walls, the honeymoon is definitely over.”

“Funny, I thought that meant it was just beginning,” Harry mumbled at his post at Ops, and quailed immediately as the Captain turned and favored him with a look that registered at the medium heat level on the Janeway intensity scale. “Sorry,” he said quickly, his face reddening.

Janeway turned her back to him before allowing the grin to ghost across her lips. She didn’t have to look back to know Seven was regarding her with an indulgently tolerant expression. She didn’t mean to pick on Harry, really she didn’t, but the young lieutenant just made it too easy sometimes.

“Have you tried hailing them?” she asked, even as she knew it was unnecessary. Her crew was good, they wouldn’t overlook something so basic.

“No response,” Harry said crisply.

“Where’s the Delta Flyer now?”

“It is standing by, ready to return to the hanger bay at the first opportunity,” Tuvok responded promptly. “Voyager is maintaining a position that keeps us between the shuttle and the aliens. Although their weapons can do no more than cause minor interruptions in the ship’s integrity field, we are unable to lower our shields in order to facilitate docking.”

“Why were Chakotay and Tom out there?”

There was a hesitation and she had to look over at him before he answered.

“Apparently, there was disagreement on the respective piloting abilities of the two men.”

She considered that and stifled the urge to roll her eyes. “Are we invading someone else’s territory?” she said, almost to herself. She lifted her head. “Seven, do you recognize any of those vessels?”

“Negative, Captain. They are not anything the Borg have encountered before. The profiles of the ships appear to be a combination of several different technologies.”

“A joining of cultures?” Janeway said thoughtfully. “So it’s unlikely they couldn’t translate our messages. Why shoot first then?”

“Perhaps it is not a matter of having inadvertently invaded their space,” Tuvok speculated. “Perhaps they are conducting an … illegal foray.”

Janeway looked intrigued. “Pirates?”

“Possibly, Captain. If that is the case, then they received more than they bargained for when they attacked the Delta Flyer, though there would be no way for them to understand that it was merely a shuttle from a larger ship rather than an independent vessel.”

“You haven’t fired back yet?”

“We were preparing to when you arrived. We have exhausted all attempts at a peaceful solution to this.”

“Ah, well, then by all means,” she allowed, waving her hand. “Target their engines, Tuvok. Let them know that we’ll put up with this foolishness for only so long.”

The security chief moved his hands lightly over his board and on the viewscreen, Janeway saw the red phaser fire erupt from her ship, intercepting one of the swiftly moving vessels. It impacted hard, a spout of gases and flame spouting from the side of the targeted vessel as it was sent tumbling end over end. A second shot took out another of the small ships and suddenly, the rest of the pack seemed to find themselves late for other appointments, scattering in different directions as they fled the scene even as the two damaged ships limped away at a much reduced pace.

“Lower the aft shields,” Janeway said. “Bring the Delta Flyer home.”

“Delta Flyer is now docking,” Harry said, studying his board. “Shuttle has landed, hanger bay is secured.”

“Resume course for the Alpha Quadrant, ensign,” Janeway said to the dark haired helmswoman who had been covering Paris’s station. “Warp six.”

“Aye captain.”

Janeway turned to Tuvok. “You have the bridge. I’m returning to my quarters to change. In the meantime, inform Mr. Paris and Mr. Chakotay that I wish to see them in my ready room at 1100 hours.”

“Understood.” He seemed to have no opinion on what that portended, though Janeway thought she saw Harry wince a bit from the corner of her eye.

She smiled faintly and headed for the turbolift. Seven was already there and the captain waited until the doors were sealed and the lift was descending before eyeing her curiously, nudging her slightly with her shoulder.

“Are you upset that we cut short our final day?”

Seven shook her head. “It was time.” She raised an eyebrow. “But it would be prudent for us to return to the holodeck to retrieve our belongings.”

Janeway took a breath. “Good god, you’re right. We certainly don’t need someone to go in there and start picking up our clothes. They might find that box and open it.”

“I can’t imagine what would happen if I let the Wonder Wand 9000 fall into the wrong hands.”

Epilogue

Their quarters looked exactly the same as the last time they had been in them, but for some reason, Seven felt oddly different upon entering. She did not think that just being married would make such a change, but she could think of nothing else that would cause this alteration of her perceptions. She carried the suitcases into the bedroom and placed them on the bed as Kathryn disappeared into the ensuite. Seven unpacked the two containers, placing their worn clothing into the recycler to be cleaned, before placing the plain wooden box into a drawer in the night stand.

She dealt with the wedding dress last, holding it up before her as she stared at it. Memories of the ceremony, of how she had felt, of how Kathryn had been so nervous, crossed her mind and she was unaware that a fond smile had curved her lips. She smoothed her fingertips over the lace, tracing the bodice and her eyes grew distant.

The captain exited from the ensuite, having replaced the dress uniform with her tradition red and black outfit. Seven discovered she was there only when Janeway slipped her arms about her waist from behind and hugged her.

“Remembering?” Janeway asked softly.

Seven inhaled slowly. “This shall always be associated with such good memories for me. The tradition is that I am not supposed to wear it ever again. I find I am … disappointed by that. I felt so happy when I wore it.”

“Well, you might get another chance. I was thinking that when we return to the Alpha Quadrant, I would like for us to renew our vows … in front of mother and Phoebe at the actual church. How would you feel about that?”

“I would like it,” Seven said, enchanted by the idea. “Is it permissible?”

“Oh yes,” Janeway said with a gentle laugh. “And I think in this case, practically required. How can I deny Phoebe the chance to see how terrified I become at the altar?”

Seven put down the dress and turned, taking the captain into her arms. “Hopefully, you will not become so nervous the second time,” she murmured, resting her chin on top of the auburn hair.

Janeway sighed. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be just as frightened.” She drew back a little and favored Seven with a soft, shy look. “But I know you’ll get me through it, just as you did this time.”

Seven kissed her forehead. “I would.” She hesitated. “Do you feel differently?”

“How so?” Janeway asked, tilting her head as she gazed up into the taller woman’s features.

“It is just … I feel differently than I did before.” Seven struggled to find words to describe her feelings. “That I am no longer the same as before we were married.”

“Ah,” Janeway said, understanding dawning in her blue-grey gaze. She mulled it over. “I think I do as well. I didn’t think it would make such a difference, but you’re right, it has. It’s as if our relationship has achieved a more solid foundation somehow, yet still remains very precious, very delicate. We must take care to remember this feeling, Annika. To know that our love and our life together is never something we can take for granted, that we must always cherish and nurture it.”

“I agree,” Seven said, pleased that Janeway had understood her so well. Perhaps that was a side effect of the vows they had shared. Somehow, the captain knew her even better now as she knew Janeway better, though how the understanding had come to them was still a mystery.

She closed her eyes and hugged her spouse tightly, secure in the knowledge that whatever lay ahead, this bond they had fashioned between them could not be broken.

Not by anything.

The End

Back to Season Two

On to Just Between Dusk & Dawn

Table of Contents

Epilogue