This is the 15th installment in the Just Between series. It is in a little different format than I would normally write so I’m not entirely sure I pulled it off. But it was challenging to try.

To Kate who helped me figure out what was bothering me about it. And to E. C. Marks for the title.

This story was written and posted around the last of February, 1999, after the events of the show’s season five up until The Disease.

Just Between Dusk & Dawn

G. L. Dartt

1900 Hours (Dusk)

Seven of Nine, late of the Borg Collective and currently the astrometrics officer for the starship Voyager, glanced up as the door to her quarters hissed opened. She was preparing a batch of caramel brownies and she was surprised when she saw her partner, and spouse of less than a month, enter. Captain Kathryn Janeway’s expression was blank, a mask of command and infinite control, something the compact captain generally discarded immediately upon walking through that door.

Seven knew why she did not this particular evening.

Janeway stared at her briefly, as if not clear exactly on who the young woman was or what she was doing here. Then her blue-grey gaze dropped, and she abruptly went into the bedroom. Seven returned her attention to her food preparation, her heart aching, wishing she could do something … anything … yet knowing that it was probably beyond her abilities.

Earlier in the day, Voyager had encountered a spatial abnormality that resulted in a hull breach on deck seven. The gravimetric forces had sucked two Voyager crewmembers, Ensign Val Wallace, a Starfleet officer and Lt. Jona Antor, a Bajoran Maquis, into the unforgiving vacuum of space. They had been beamed back as soon as possible but it had been too late, both men instantly killed by the explosive decompression. Seven had known the two fairly well since they had been in her department, but for the moment, she was far less concerned with their loss, and infinitely more worried by how Kathryn was reacting to the tragedy.

There was no way to predict what exactly would trigger it, but Seven had seen the captain react badly to unexpected setbacks before, including a few times during their romantic relationship. One had occurred shortly after they had become intimately involved and Seven had been unprepared for how Janeway had responded to the demise of a group of refugee aliens she had escorted to what Voyager had believed was a safe haven only to find out later that a natural disaster had wiped out the small colony. The captain had rebuffed all the young Borg’s attempts at comfort; had in fact, been quite abrupt and cold to her during the entire difficult week afterward. In some ways, it had seemed that Janeway treated Seven with a great deal more harshness, and was far more bitter in her manner when speaking to her than with anyone else. It was only in retrospect that the young Borg realized the captain had not so much been striking out at her, but at the unfeeling universe, and it was only Seven she allowed through the impassive command mask to witness her deep anger and heartfelt sorrow.

But understanding it did not make the misdirected anger easier to accept, and it had taken a while to mend the rift that had developed between them because of it. In some ways, it had never really been repaired, manifesting itself in a lot of small, fierce quarrels blamed on other things before the Borg Collective suddenly returned to assimilate Seven a second time. The subsequent trauma of Janeway also being assimilated pushed the earlier friction completely aside, and it was never again touched on by either of them.

Seven could only hope that she would be able to handle the situation better now. She was aware that Kathryn felt the life of every crewmember was hers to protect, and keep safe To have two young people die on her watch in such a senseless way … Seven knew that Kathryn was in her own personal hell at the moment. She just didn’t know how to help her out of it.

Seven smoothed down the gooey caramel and chocolate flavored batter, preparing it for baking. She knew that Kathryn would not wish to eat or drink nor would she sleep well, if at all, for days, but the Borg still hoped that this special treat could possibly tempt the captain from her self imposed misery. Even it if was only a minor distraction.

Seven raised an eyebrow as Janeway returned to the living area and took a seat on the couch, staring darkly into the rest of the room as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her thighs, her hands dangling limp and unresponsive between her knees. She had dressed in the baggy blue t-shirt and black trousers that Seven abhorred, knowing that Janeway only wore that outfit when she was upset or depressed. It was like a huge flashing sign, indicating that her beloved was unhappy and symbolizing Seven’s utter failure to help her.

From the corner of her eye, Seven picked up on a stealthy motion from the other inhabitant of their quarters. The couple’s Irish Setter, Jake, slowly crept across the room on his haunches, inching closer and closer to the couch every second. Despite the situation, Seven felt her lips quirk in amusement, and she lowered her face to hide her brief smile as the long legged pup gently eased his head onto the captain’s boot and exhaled with a gusty sigh.

When that did not seem to crack his mistress’s shell of despondence, Jake carefully stood up and pushed his head gently between Janeway’s hands. That caught the captain’s attention and for a moment, human and dog regarded each other uncertainly. Then slowly, Janeway’s fingers gently stroked the rusty haired head, scratching behind the floppy ears. Jake’s tail began to wag, a gentle sweep back and forth over the coffee table and Seven was glad that they no longer kept ornaments on the transparent surface. It hadn’t taken long after Jake had reached this height for the pair to realize his tail was a massively destructive weapon. All the various knickknacks the couple had collected were immediately raised to higher shelves … those that had survived.

Seven popped the brownies into the heating unit and began to clean up her work area, keeping an eye on the captain as she did, granting Janeway the space Seven knew she required at such a time, but still wanting to be nearby.

It was possible that Janeway would prefer that Seven find another place to be this evening. Seven understood that this was as much her home as it was Kathryn’s but the Borg also recognized the need for solitude when one was upset. Perhaps after dinner, Seven would make a point of spending some time in astrometrics, or go visit B’Elanna Torres, the ship’s chief engineer, and her closest friend on the ship after her partner.

“What’s for dinner?”

Janeway’s voice was a surprise, not only because Seven had not anticipated that the captain would speak to her this evening, but the rustiness in it, as if Kathryn had not used her voice for a long time. Janeway had rushed to sickbay, arriving in time to see the Doctor fighting with all he had in the frantic attempt to bring back the crewmembers, but it had been too late. Seven had already been there for a routine maintenance of her implants, and remained to assist when the medical emergency had occurred. She did not think she would ever forget the expression that crossed Janeway’s face when the Doctor relayed the bad news, though it had been quickly and completely covered by the command mask.

The captain returned to the bridge to organize the repair teams while Seven set about determining the complete extent of the damage to Astrophysics, as well as to the rest of the immediate section. Voyager was forced to cordon off that area of the ship where some of the bulkheads were structurally weakened, but none of the sections were particularly crucial to the ship’s functionality. Seven was able to return to her quarters at the end of her shift despite her vague sense of disapproval at not immediately throwing all Voyager’s resources into complete repairs.

Seven knew that while the captain wouldn’t want her crew to exhaust themselves, Janeway was much harder on herself, and would most likely attempt to overwork regardless of future considerations. The Borg had not expected to see her at all this evening, and as a result, she had not planned anything for their dinner.

“Do you have a preference?”

Janeway slipped onto the stool on the other side of the counter, resting her chin wearily in the palm of her hand, her elbow propped on the counter’s smooth surface.

“Not really. I’m not even hungry.” She paused, looking at Seven sadly. “But I promised you I would take care of myself. Maybe I can keep at least one of my promises.”

Seven looked at her, wanting so much to reach out and enfold the captain in her arms, and sensing that it was not yet time. She knew the ‘promise’ Janeway had made to herself was to get every member of her crew back to the Alpha Quadrant safe and sound. The captain had broken that vow today … at least, in her own mind.

“I shall make something light. I am not that hungry, either.”

She went over to the replicator and keyed in a program for a variety of vegetables and mushrooms as well as the captain’s favorite dressing. She took the large tray that materialized and placed it on the counter, separating the food items as the captain observed with a distant air. Seven hoped that by watching her prepare dinner, Kathryn would be soothed somehow. The Borg knew that she felt better for engaging in the repetitive motion of chopping and slicing, of tossing the assorted vegetables into the wooden bowl.

She was heartened when the captain reached out and snagged a few slices of cucumber, crunching on them idly.

“Would you like a glass of wine?”

Janeway shook her head. “No. I don’t like to drink when I’m … I just shouldn’t drink right now.”

Seven considered that carefully, wondering what it implied exactly, before she decided not to worry about it. She was gratified that, unlike before, the captain was not attempting to shut herself off from contact. Instead, she was making a concentrated effort to retain a connection to her partner.

The salad was thrown together quickly and covered liberally with the dressing. Seven replicated a container full of juice, a blend of cranberries and apples that she particularly liked, before carrying the salad bowl and pitcher over to the table. Janeway seemed to realize that she was being a little lax suddenly, and rose quickly to set the table. Seven helped her and it wasn’t long before they sat down to dinner.

The meal was eaten in silence, not exactly terse, but not entirely comfortable either. When they were finished, Janeway assisted in clearing the table, and then retired back to the sofa where she resumed her previous pose, one of infinite weariness and defeat. Seven checked the brownies, found that they were done and placed them on the counter for frosting. She slid the flat utensil over the surface of the dessert, smoothing out the top layer of melted chocolate, then ran a thread of golden caramel in a wavy pattern for decoration. She did not offer the captain any of the sweets, but made it very clear that they were available, the warm aroma of the baked goods filling the air with what she hoped would provide an irresistible lure, before covering them with a stasis wrap, leaving them to sit visibly on the counter.

She walked over to where the captain was sitting and perched gingerly on the coffee table, looking at Janeway, waiting patiently until the level eyes, far more gray than blue at the moment, finally rose to meet hers.

“I was planning to go out to speak with B’Elanna for a little while,” she explained softly. “But it is nothing that cannot wait. Would you prefer I stay? Or do you wish to have some time to yourself?”

Janeway gazed at her for a moment, almost as if she couldn’t quite understand what the young woman was saying, then she nodded slowly.

“I think that’s probably a good idea,” she said in that same rusty tone. “I’ll see you later.”

Seven hesitated, then leaned forward and gently kissed the captain. She lingered, giving Janeway the opportunity to change her mind with a physical gesture if a verbal one could not be found, but the captain did not take it, drawing away.

Seven took a breath and got up. She tried not to look back as she exited the cabin.

2000 Hours

B’Elanna Torres was lounging on her couch with her feet up, a mug of Klingon ale propped on her belly, unwinding from what had been a very difficult day. The chime to her door sounded and with an inaudible growl, she glared at it.

“Who is it?” she snapped.

“Seven of Nine,” came the immediate response.

B’Elanna sighed. Seven was one of the few people she could tolerate seeing at such a time, even as she wondered why the Borg was at her door. She would have thought Seven would be with the captain. Though when the captain was in a mood … the Klingon didn’t exactly blame the blonde for wanting to be somewhere else.

“Come in.”

The tall woman walked in, pausing as she observed B’Elanna’s pose. Seven was an imposing figure with light hair held back in a severe bun, and frosty blue eyes that could impale with the force of a grade six laser beam. Her curvaceous form was covered in a blue and grey outfit, spike heels granting her even more stature, and a grace that occasionally made the smaller, more compact engineer feel awkward and clumsy … though B’Elanna tried not to let it affect her attitude toward the Borg.

Anymore.

B’Elanna gestured lazily to the chair opposite hers. “Have a seat, ‘Nik,” she said, utilizing the shortened version of Seven’s Human designation. “Want a beer?”

Seven hesitated. “Is that anything like ‘mead’?” she asked coolly, but the Klingon could see the hint of humor warm the pale eyes.

B’Elanna grinned crookedly. “Doesn’t taste as good. Maybe something else?”

Seven shook her head. “I do not require liquid refreshment at the moment.” She accepted the offered chair, sitting primly, knees precisely aligned, hands folded neatly on her lap. Her back was straight even as she settled against the cushions.

“What’s up?” B’Elanna asked, tilting her head as she regarded her friend.

“Kathryn requires some … space, so I told her that I had to speak with you.”

“Ah,” B’Elanna said and took a long swallow of beer.

That was the thing with Seven. You could ask her anything and she would tell you honestly, flat out, regardless of how inappropriate or excessive or even plain rude it was. It was a trait that B’Elanna had not always appreciated, but had gradually learned to respect. The dark-haired woman took note of the hint of strain around Seven’s full lipped mouth, which was about all anyone could ever detect with the other woman as an indication that things were not all right. B’Elanna supposed that the captain could probably read Seven better than anyone, an ability that had existed from the very first moment Janeway had laid eyes on the Borg. Perhaps that was why the captain insisted on keeping her on board even when many thought that was a fairly bad idea.

B’Elanna had been one of the more vocal objectors, and it had taken a long time before she had found some common ground on which to maintain a civil relationship with Seven. Yet, from such a shaky beginning, they managed to form a unique sort of friendship.

“What about you? Jona and Wallace were in your department. Their deaths must be hellishly inconvenient.”

With anyone else, she would have tempered her words, found a more delicate way to phrase that, something that very much went against her Klingon nature. After a lifetime of trying to follow Human standards and ideals, recently … specifically after her break up with the ship’s helmsman, Tom Paris … B’Elanna had allowed her other, more forthright half freer rein. She still had to control it with most of the people she encountered, but with Seven, she could say exactly what was on her mind. B’Elanna found it wonderfully relaxing.

“Their contributions shall be missed.” Seven hesitated. “I did not know them as I do you or my other friends, but I find that the concept of their deaths is troubling to me. It is not something I entirely understand.”

B’Elanna considered that, staring into the golden depths of her mug. “Maybe you’re just becoming more Human,” she suggested. “Fear of death, regret at a lost life; those things are particularly hard for you Humans. It’s not like being Klingon where, though we know it will always defeat us in the end, death is an enemy to be fought honorably. The challenge is not that you must die, but how well you die.”

Seven regarded her evenly. “You are not entirely Klingon. I suspect that the deaths of these crewmembers bother you more than you are willing to admit.”

B’Elanna eyed her, then let out a snort of laughter which held little humor. “Got me there, ‘Nik. Can’t say as today left me feeling particularly good.” She raised her mug. “Hence the liquid dinner.”

Seven tilted her head slightly as she regarded her. “Do you feel responsible in some way?”

B’Elanna considered it. “Maybe indirectly. The ship and how it runs is my responsibility. I can’t help thinking that if only I had done something here or another thing there, maybe the sensors would have picked up the anomaly ahead of time, or maybe the integrity field in that section would have been stronger.” She sighed and shook her head. “Yet, sometimes things like this just happen. They’re no one’s fault, but we all feel a little responsible anyway.”

Seven nodded thoughtfully, and a hush fell upon them as they pondered the mysteries of life and death, B’Elanna sipping her drink quietly.

“Kathryn is especially disturbed,” Seven noted after awhile.

B’Elanna took a breath. “Yeah, she would be. The captain always takes this sort of thing hard.” She uncoiled from the cushions, her muscular, compact body springing from the couch to the replicator where she refilled her mug. She glanced back at Seven. “Sure I can’t get you anything?”

Seven considered it. “I will have a glass of champagne.”

B’Elanna stared at her, raising an eyebrow. “Celebrating?” she said sardonically.

Seven blinked. “No, I merely like how it tastes. Is celebrating a requirement for drinking it?”

B’Elanna was forced to think about that for a moment. “It’s traditional, but hell, since when have I been a stickler for tradition?”

“As recently as my wedding,” Seven pointed out, frowning faintly.

The Klingon grinned and keyed in the commands, replicating a tall, flute glass of bubbly, bringing it over to the Borg who accepted it politely. B’Elanna then slumped back down on her couch and took a long pull from her beer.

“So the captain’s in a mood, is she?” B’Elanna could see that the Borg needed a minute to work that out, and another to decide whether to answer it or not. Originally, Seven had been honest to the point of being wildly indiscreet but time … and a few hard lessons … had taught the Borg that while she did not have to alter her approach of complete truth, she was not always required to volunteer it either.

“Kathryn shows one aspect of her grief to the crew,” Seven said finally, “and another to me. Though she seems to become even more cold and professional, in truth, she is in great distress.”

“So what are you doing here?”

Seven blinked. “I asked her if I should leave, and she told me that it was probably a good idea,” she said with a touch of confusion.

“Ah, but what someone says is not always what’s best for them. In fact, the harder someone tries to drive you away, the more they actually want you to stay.”

“They do?” Seven was clearly astonished.

“You know, Janeway’s good at that sort of thing,” B’Elanna added thoughtfully. “It’s as if when presented with two ways to do something, an easy way and a hard way, she’ll always take the more difficult road. On the other hand, maybe she really doesn’t want to see anyone.”

“How does one decide which is the case?” Seven asked, disturbed.

“Take a guess,” B’Elanna told her, aware of just how unhelpful that was. She sighed. “Honestly, Seven, it’s a crap shoot. You take your chances.”

“Indeed,” Seven said unhappily.

“Tell you what, give yourselves a couple of hours and then go home. That way you’ve given her a little time to herself, but haven’t been gone so long as to give her the impression you’ve abandoned her.”

She wondered why she was giving advice to Seven since the Borg’s relationship with the captain was highly successful whereas all of the Klingon’s affairs tended to self-destruct, particularly in the last five years, beginning with Tom Paris, the ship’s helmsman to her most recent fling with the ship’s first officer, Chakotay. Still, the Klingon thought, her advice was always sound. Her biggest problem was that she failed to follow it in her own dealings with romance.

Seven nodded pensively. “I accept that as a reasonable compromise.” She raised an eyebrow and offered her now empty glass. “In which case, I believe I have time for another.”

“You sucked that back a little quick,” B’Elanna protested even as she got up to replicate another champagne. She made a point of keying in the non-alcoholic variety. If Seven noticed, B’Elanna would point out that they both had to be on duty the next day. Her own beer still contained a certain percentage.

After all, it was a proven fact that she could hold her liquor much better than Seven.

Seven sipped at the bubbly beverage, shot a sharp look at the engineer but apparently decided to let it pass. “How do you deal with losing people under your command?”

B’Elanna took a breath. “‘Nik, the men were in astrophysics, but you’re only the department head of astrometrics. They weren’t really under your command. I appreciate that you might feel that way, but trust me, they were more my people than yours.”

Seven looked vaguely confused. “I was not asking in regards to me.”

“Oh,” the engineer mumbled. “Sorry.” She studied the golden depths of her malt. “I mourn them, I try to make sure what killed them couldn’t happen again, and then … I get on with my life.”

Seven lowered her eyes. “I am not entirely sure it is that easy.”

B’Elanna eyed her sardonically. “I didn’t say it was easy. Just that it’s how I deal with it.”

“Is there nothing you can do to make the adjustment to the loss easier?”

B’Elanna glanced at her mug. “The liquid dinner,” she reminded pointedly.

Seven looked thoughtful. “I believe I understand. Certain drugs have the ability to soothe sorrow, or assist in altering one’s perception.”

B’Elanna’s lips twitched. “You could say that. But that sort of perception is only temporary. It can’t be relied on.”

Seven’s eyes grew darker as she stared into her glass.

“Perhaps temporary assistance is all I require.”

2100 Hours

After Seven left, Janeway found herself missing the young woman, even as she was grateful for the solitude. She had promised herself that she would not take what she was feeling out on her partner, but she had greeted the young woman’s suggestion that she find someplace else to be with relief. She was torn, a part of her wanting urgently for Seven to stay so that she could curl up in the Borg’s lap and lose herself in the loving embrace, shutting out the universe and all its heartache. The other part of her, the captain part, demanded that she accept the weight of these deaths by herself, to accept the responsibility of having let those crewmen down. That was her constant burden, the onus she had accepted years earlier when she was granted that fourth pip, when she took command of the ship named Voyager.

When she lost it in the Delta Quadrant.

She rested her forehead on her palms, closing her eyes as she felt the all too familiar despair and depression seep through her. I can’t let myself fall into this hole again, she thought desperately. Not like I did when Daddy and Justin died. Not like I have so many other times. Seven doesn’t deserve this. My crew doesn’t need this. I have to get this under control.

She remembered the long months wallowing in grief after the loss of her father and fiance, and it had taken a concentrated effort by her younger sister, Phoebe to drag her out of bed and get her back to some semblance of living. Perhaps even that attempt would have failed had not a little pup stumbled across her path, half frozen, damned near dead, in dire need of care. Accepting responsibility for the dog that she eventually named Petunia, had helped her resume her life and career.

Her knowledge of what happened more recently in the void, just before she lost her memories, was even more disturbing to her. From her logs, she knew she had first greeted the stretch of open space with eagerness and gratitude, the lessened demand of ship’s business coming as a welcome relief. She and Seven had spent several days just enjoying their opportunity to be together, the captain delighting in the sense that for just a while, she wasn’t needed to shoulder the constant burden of command. It turned out to be a deceptive freedom. Eventually, Janeway’s thoughts turned inward, becoming introspective, the command part of her agonizing over her selfish and arrogant decision four years earlier, the knowledge that she had chosen to strand 150 people in the Delta Quadrant, condemning her crew to possibly never seeing their home again. The guilt had all but consumed her, and she had withdrawn into herself, spending long hours in bed, not wanting to rise, and refusing to talk to anyone, even Seven for long periods of time, much to the young woman’s confusion and hurt. If it hadn’t been for Voyager encountering a threat two months into the void, endangering her people, and forcing the captain to once more assume the mantle of command, Janeway could only imagine how it would have ended.

She was honest enough with herself to know she had never really dealt with the guilt that caused her depression, that the danger to her ship had merely allowed her to put it aside and not have to think about it directly. It still lay there, festering just below the surface, a constant ache in the core of herself.

She took a shuddering breath and stood up, turning to stare emptily out the large windows where the stars streaked by. Though she didn’t remember it clearly, as with the void, she was very aware that she had struggled with another, even stronger trial during this long journey home, the most powerful she had ever faced and even now, she wasn’t entirely sure how she survived it. The logs had recounted Seven’s supposed death, and how Janeway had managed to keep functioning despite the crushing despondency still surprised her. When the young Borg had returned, healthy and whole, the relief and renewed sense of hope must have been like a release, and perhaps the return had come just in the nick of time for the captain’s sanity.

Now, here Janeway was again, perched on the edge of that black spiral of hopelessness, and the frightened woman didn’t know how to control it in such a way that it would not affect Seven even more profoundly this time.

The captain tried to think of other things, tried to pull back from the brink. Her mind drifted to her recent wedding. That day had been the happiest she could ever remember experiencing in her life though, as always, it had been touched by the sense of sadness at being so far away from the Federation and her family. Perhaps that was why this was hitting her so hard. She had found a sort of home on Voyager, a place here in the Delta Quadrant with a young woman who filled her life with joy and love. What had happened today was a harsh reminder that they were not home, that others were not happy and fulfilled, that the situation the rest of her crew found themselves in was ultimately of her doing.

What right did she have to be happy?

She clenched her fists and took a deep breath, glancing around blankly in search of something … anything to help her focus. Over in the corner, Jake had long since given up trying to cheer his despondent mistress and was flopped onto his doggy bed, chewing on a replicated beef flavored bone. Janeway thought that this was the first time in a long time the pup had contented himself with his cushion rather than the couch where he had staked a very aggressive claim. She observed him bleakly. While he had been a puppy, these living arrangements had been fine but as he grew in size and mass, it was becoming increasingly clear that their living quarters were becoming correspondingly smaller and more crowded.

Voyager was not equipped with family quarters. The captain’s cabin was probably the largest abode on the ship, and if she and Seven wished to expand, there were only two ways to go, either by displacing Chaotay to the port side, or taking over the guest quarters to starboard. Janeway did not think either was viable. The ship’s normal crew compliment was 141 and that was when the ship was fully manned. The ten extra bodies that had resulted when the Starfleet crew and the crew of Chakotay’s Maquis cell merged had put a strain on the resources. They were only now adjusting to comfortably; requiring a side trip to the Beta Quadrant as well as all the equipment which Seven, B’Elanna and Chakotay had brought back with them from the Alpha Quadrant to make it that way.

A recent wrenching in the wake of a slipstream propulsion system had weakened the ship and this latest encounter with a spatial anomaly had reminded everyone of just how marginal everything was out here. There were no friendly space stations to provide an opportunity to overhaul the vessel, no backup by other Starfleet ships to lessen the threats and challenges that came their way, no way to send a cry for help when they needed it.

The work they had done in applying the slipstream drive to the ship had offered the hope that they would return home much sooner than the originally projected 50 or so years, but it was a tentative hope, one that came and went with each new test, each new discovery, each new adaptation.

Now, of course, there were two more crewmembers who would never see the Federation again.

Janeway thought that if only she could cry, perhaps the sense of unrelenting pressure inside her would somehow go away. Yet, she suspected that was a futile hope. Crying had rarely helped her before and besides, she really hated to cry. It felt defeatist and weak when she most needed to be strong.

She wondered where the hell her spouse had disappeared, and how much longer she would be away from their quarters. Janeway needed to concentrate on something else for awhile and that was much easier when Seven was around. The captain felt a definite sort of annoyance, the sense of being abandoned, completely ignoring the fact that Seven had given Janeway every opportunity to ask her to stay. After all, if Seven were truly her soul mate, the captain noted grumpily, she would understand instinctually what her partner needed.

Janeway recognized the last as being completely unreasonable but she wasn’t in a very reasonable mood at the moment. She trusted that Seven would understand that when she gave her a piece of her mind whenever the young woman finally wandered home.

2200 Hours

Sickbay was quiet and Seven looked around curiously, discovering the Doctor and his medical assistant, Sek, in the CMO’s office, visible through the transparency that looked out into the rest of the medical facilities. Through another door, from the corner of her eye, Seven spotted the glitter of stasis fields and she only had to take an additional step to see the sheet covered forms laid out on two tables. The corpses were awaiting final disposal, most likely interring them in torpedo casings and firing them into the closest star. There would have to be some form of memorial service, and Seven did not look forward to how that would further harm the captain. She took a breath, straightening her shoulders, and headed for the office. Both the Doctor and Sek looked up as she entered and it seemed that there was honest pleasure in their eyes at her arrival.

That was not as simple as it sounded. Both beings were actually holograms, constructs of light and gravimetric forces produced by emitters controlled by computer programs. The Doctor had the ability to tap into the ship’s main database, and the enhanced programming of being able to learn from experience … something the Starfleet computer experts thought would make the matrix far more efficient. What they had not anticipated was the program remaining activated continually for five years as he replaced the ship’s chief medical officer who had died on Voyager’s arrival in the Delta Quadrant. Over the course of that time, the Doctor had achieved sentience though it was not something formally recognized in the ship’s logs until his medical assistant, Sek, was created. The crew had been forced to address the touchy issue at that point.

“Are you all right, Seven?” The Doctor was a sparse, trim man, his matrix based on the appearance of a Dr. Zimmerman who had a balding pate, and slightly crooked eyes. The hologram’s personality was a combination of six of the greatest doctors in Federation history, not the least of which was one Dr. Leonard McCoy of the 23rd century USS Enterprise.

“I am functioning acceptably.” Seven hesitated, and then looked straight at him. “I wish to know if there is any medical solution to reverse the way Kathryn is feeling.”

She saw she had startled them both. The Doctor settled back on his chair behind the desk and motioned for her to take the empty one across from him, beside Sek.

She looked at Seven, concern darkening her eyes. “Do you feel that the captain needs medical treatment, Seven?”

Sek was based on the personality profile of a crewmember named Kes, a Delta Quadrant native. Kes’s people, the Ocampa, were the main reason Janeway made that decision all those years ago. Had the captain taken advantage of the alien array that transported them all those light years from home and returned to the Federation, she would have left the alien artifact in the hands of the Kazon, a hostile species that threatened to destroy the gentle, subterranean dwelling aliens. In what Seven knew had been a most difficult decision, Voyager had destroyed the array rather than let it be used against the Ocampa and hence, lost their only chance to get home. Kes chose to remain on board the vessel, and over the better part of her life span … the Ocampa were extremely short lived … she was able to tap into her psychic abilities and evolve into a higher life form.

Her leaving had corresponded with Seven’s arrival, and though the Borg never really had the chance to know her, Seven understood the female’s absence had left a large hole in some of the crewmember’s lives, particularly that of the Doctor. Kes had been both student in medical matters and teacher in that of being alive, and her leaving had left the Doctor in the unexpected position of being lonely. For a brief time, Seven had filled that void somewhat, but when the necessity for a medical assistant had become paramount in order to perform a very delicate operation on Seven, the Doctor was quick to offer Kes’s profile for the personality matrix.

“She is very upset, though she attempts not to show it. It is similar to the way she has behaved before.” She turned to the Doctor. “Do you remember how she was during the period of time the ship was traversing the void? How she acted when she believed I was dead?”

The Doctor regarded her gravely. “Seven, I am quite hesitant to discuss this with you. There’s the question of patient confidentiality regarding the captain. Yet, at the same time, I have to admit, in both the cases you cited, Captain Janeway displayed many symptoms of acute clinical depression. But unless it affects her ability to command or she personally requests help, I am not authorized to do anything for her.”

“I am requesting it,” Seven replied. “I know there are drugs that can be used to treat depression.”

He looked sympathetically at her. “There are, Seven, but the captain is not medically unfit to conduct her own affairs. It would be wrong of me to interfere or try to administer a medical solution which truthfully, should only be considered if all other options have failed. Not to mention the fact that it would go completely against her wishes. I could speak with her if you think it would help, but I suspect it will do little good. She’s never listened to me before and I’m not about to barge into her quarters to confront her about this. It would only do more harm than good.”

“Are you afraid of her?” Seven asked in a challenging tone.

He paused, then smiled thinly. “Frankly, yes. Besides, Seven, how can I demand to be treated like an individual by her, and then refuse her that same courtesy? I can’t do anything, Seven, not now, but I assure you, I am keeping an eye on the situation.”

“I wish to help her now.” Seven knew that this had been somewhat of a long shot, but she’d hoped the Doctor could perhaps come up with an immediate medical solution to Kathryn’s unhappiness. Despite B’Elanna’s advice, the Borg was hesitant about returning to her quarters, not anxious to compound the captain’s agitation with her presence

“You can listen, Seven,” Sek offered gently. “Sometimes that can make all the difference. She knows you love her. It will help for you just to be there for her.”

“She did not want me around this evening,” Seven protested. “I asked.” She paused. “B’Elanna says that sometimes what is said is not always what is meant.”

“I would not be taking either romantic or medical advice from Lt. Torres,” the Doctor said dryly. “But it is a rather astute assumption by our chief engineer. It’s entirely possible that just as the captain refuses … or at least, did at one time … to eat correctly or get enough rest, she could be refusing to have you around her even though that’s exactly what she requires at the moment.”

“So you are in agreement with B’Elanna?” Seven raised a brow as the Doctor winced slightly.

“Apparently,” he allowed reluctantly. “In any event, I do think if you make yourself available to the captain, you might be able to offer her a way to help herself.”

“Yes, Seven,” Sek added gently. “Try to understand, at times like this, people strike out occasionally. You just have to remember that it isn’t you she’s angry with, but at the universe in general.”

“I do understand that.” Seven lowered her head. “But it is difficult not to take it personally when she is displaying anger toward me.”

“She loves you, Seven,” Sek said compassionately. “Don’t forget that. It’s simply that she takes any death of her crew very hard.”

The Doctor made a sound of agreement. “She would have made an admirable medical officer.”

Seven looked at him. “Is that how you look at death?”

The question seemed to catch the hologram off guard. He took a moment to consider it. “I suppose I do. Perhaps that’s why my program was disrupted when I was required to make a choice between who was going to live and who was going to die.”

“But you got through it,” Sek noted, smiling warmly at him. “And the captain will get through this.” She looked at Seven. “With your help.”

Seven nodded. “You are correct.” She stood up abruptly. “Thank you for your assistance.”

“Anytime, Seven,” the Doctor said.

Seven left sickbay and headed back to her quarters. Now that she had received a second opinion, she was better prepared to face whatever came her way with this evening. She would do everything in her power to help Kathryn through this ordeal.

Though she sensed it was going to be a long night.

2300 Hours

By the time the doors to the quarters had hissed open to admit her wayward spouse, the captain had managed to work herself into quite a lather. The sight of her partner gave focus to all the negative emotions that had been roiling inside her, and she stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at Seven with all the intensity of a force ten Janeway ‘Look’.

“I thought you were only going to be gone a few minutes. It’s been three hours.”

On a purely subconscious level, she expected Seven to respond in that infuriatingly cool manner she had, noting that she had not specified exactly how long she would be gone, and even if she had, she was an individual and fully entitled to be gone as long as she wanted. Marriage did not mean one owned another, and for Kathryn to believe that was both illogical and presumptuous. Then Janeway would reply that marriage was a series of compromises, and that if Seven was not prepared to make the simplest of allowances in their relationship, then the captain simply didn’t know why she had married her. Which would, of course, make Seven feel as bad as Janeway, and thus proved the contention that misery, did indeed love company.

Instead, Seven came over to her and wrapped her up in her arms, hugging her tightly.

“I love you,” she whispered fiercely into Janeway’s ear. “I know that you are very angry right now even though I understand it is not really with me. I wish you to know that I will listen to whatever you must say.”

She released her and stood patiently, her head tilted slightly, giving the captain her complete and undivided attention. Janeway opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, and finally stared stupidly at her partner.

“Damnit, you should have contacted me to tell me you were going to be late,” she said finally in a gruff voice.

“Yes,” Seven agreed readily.

“You have to tell me where you go,” Janeway tried challengingly. “As well as exactly how long you’ll be there.”

Seven didn’t bite. “I will from now on.”

“At all times.”

“Of course.”

Janeway frowned and looked away from the pale eyes, unable to hold their gaze. “Very well, then,” she said, feeling completely inane, and further annoyed with Seven for making her feel that way. She glanced at the closest chronometer and noted the time. “It’s time for bed,” she added grumpily.

Seven regarded her curiously. “Do you wish to shout at me some more?” she asked in an encouraging tone.

“No,” Janeway snapped and went into the bedroom.

Not able to believe how uncooperative the Borg was being, Janeway undressed grouchily and prepared for bed, slipping into a pair of grey pyjamas before crawling between the sheets. Normally she would take the middle of the mattress but tonight she huddled on her side near the edge, her back to the center of the bed, her body curled in on itself, protecting her middle from the outside.

She heard Seven come in, listened as the young woman also prepared for bed before slipping in beside her. She felt the gentle lips brush over her temple, but stubbornly, she pretended to be asleep and Seven settled back against the mattress. Minutes passed, time stretching interminably as Janeway lay frozen, not wanting to toss and turn and disturb Seven whom she believed had finally fallen asleep, but completely unable to achieve any sort of relaxation for herself. She could not keep her mind from racing from one despairing thought to another, torn between wanting to roll over and hug Seven, never letting go, and resenting that warm presence that slumbered so easily in the bed beside her.

Finally, after what seemed hours but was probably only about thirty minutes, Janeway slipped out of bed, tiptoeing out to the living area in her bare feet. She stepped on one of Jake’s toys, muffled a curse and limped over to the bookcase. She searched the lower shelves, finally finding a book of poetry, and curled up in the chair with it, opening it to a familiar and much loved passage. She tried to find some solace in the verse that lay on the page, tried to find consolation in the archaic black ink on paper, in the solid weight of the tome in her hands. Where it had once brought her a poignant sort of comfort, it did not reassure her this night. The words ran together, becoming an incomprehensible maze of phrases and thoughts that made no sense. Frustrated, she flung the book across the room, realizing only after it left her hand that Jake was curled up on the couch. The book slammed into the window and fell to the cushions, dropping onto his hindquarters and waking the pup abruptly. He yelped loudly and leaped off the couch, skittering across the room with his tail between his legs until he was cowering under the table by the entrance.

“Oh god.” Janeway quickly rose and crossed the room, kneeling by the table. “I’m sorry, boy. It’s okay.” She crooned softly, coaxing him out where she patted him lavishly. “My god, what’s wrong with me.”

She felt tears fill her eyes, her throat closing, and then there were loving arms around her, pulling her up and holding her as she turned into the warm embrace.

“Oh, Annika,” she wept, burying her face into the younger woman’s shoulder. “I think I’m going insane.”

Seven cuddled her close. “You are unhappy, Kathryn. We will find a way to make it right. I swear this to you.”

Janeway allowed Seven to lead her over to the couch where they sat together, the young woman cradling the smaller woman on her lap as Janeway cried, very much afraid that she wouldn’t be able to stop. Yet, she did eventually, and Seven held her close the entire time, stroking her, soothing and comforting her. Jake came over, the unexpected fright apparently forgiven and forgotten, inserting himself in the impossibly small area remaining, snuggling his head onto her lap. Janeway felt surrounded by their love, by their support, and it seemed that whatever was crushing her finally eased … ever so slightly.

“We are your family, Kathryn,” Seven whispered. “We are always here for you. You just have to let us in.”

“I don’t know if you can,” Janeway told her in a choked voice. “I don’t know that anyone can. I just get like this.”

“You ‘get like this’ because I have not been prepared to help you before,” Seven said in a firm tone. “Now I am and we will find a way to resolve this. I saw what it did to you when you thought I was dead. I saw what it did to you when you were in the void. Phoebe told me what it did to you when your father died. It is not good for you to be so distressed that it affects your functionality, Kathryn.”

Janeway gulped, swallowing back a half sob. “I know that. I just don’t know how to stop feeling this way.”

“Then we shall talk about it until we discover a solution.” Seven hesitated. “Do you remember when all the personalities of the beings I assimilated began to take me over?”

“Yes,” Janeway responded sadly.

Seven held her tighter. “You stayed with me for hours, talking to all the various personalities that manifested, encouraging me to be strong whenever I managed to regain some control. Can I do any less for you? Especially now that you are my wife?”

“I don’t know that discussing it will help,” Janeway warned wearily as she rested her head on Seven’s shoulder, cuddling close despite herself. “It didn’t in the void.”

“You refused to speak with me, or anyone else, for that matter,” Seven pointed out. “Just as you did when you believed I was dead. Tonight we shall try to talk it through, no matter how long it requires.”

“What makes you think that will work?”

“Have you ever attempted intense discussion in an attempt to ease your sense of isolation?”

Janeway hesitated. “Not that I can remember.”

“Then it is an option that must be explored.”

Janeway closed her eyes, wanting to reach out so badly for the assistance so freely offered but still unsure, still afraid to let someone else try to reduce this burden. “I guess you’re right. Maybe I never had anyone I could talk to before at times like this.”

Seven stroked the captain’s hair gently. “You do now.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to start,” Janeway objected, her last weak defense against the unknown, the fear that perhaps this would not make it better either, leaving her with no hope at all.

Seven rested her lips against Janeway’s temple. “We will start with today. There have been other crewmembers who have died, but their loss did not send you into this spiral of despair. What makes this situation different?”

Janeway took a deep breath, leaning unhappily against her lover. “I don’t know, Annika,” she confessed. “Honestly I don’t. It was just so unbelievably senseless … usually I can keep it under control but today … ” She trailed off, trying to find the words to describe what she was feeling and completely unable to, a sense of helplessness starting to creep over her.

“Perhaps it was the two deaths at the same time.”

“That didn’t help. One was bad enough…” She hugged Seven briefly about the neck and pulled away. “I need some coffee.”

“Would you like me to brew some?” Seven nodded toward her kitchenette. “I feel that we should not go to bed until we have managed some sort of resolution with this.”

Janeway truly did not feel like talking, but she knew she couldn’t afford the depression that had gripped her so tightly on previous occasions. She had to get a handle on it, if not for her own sake, then for Seven who was now her wife. At the very least she’d get a pot of Seven’s remarkable coffee out of it. She supposed that alone was worth the attempt.

The couple untangled from each other and rose from the couch, moving over to the kitchenette. Janeway perched on the stool as Seven began preparing the coffee beans in the small grinder, and the captain discovered she was greedily eying the caramel brownies she had been steadfastly ignoring before now. Carefully, she edged out three of the gooey squares from beneath the stasis wrap and bit into one, surprised at how much the familiar taste seemed to make her feel better, the combination of chocolate and caramel like a homecoming of sorts.

Seven glanced back at her, smiling faintly and not for the first time, Kathryn was reminded of her mother. She didn’t know what it was about the Borg that was so reminiscent of Gretchen Janeway, but it was something that displayed itself when the captain least expected it. Perhaps it was the loving, caring nature of the young woman, or the way she tended to nurture those within her sphere of influence. In any event, it had provided the captain with a sense of contentment she had never experienced with anyone else.

“I realized recently that I still feel a certain amount of resentment toward my father,” she said suddenly, surprising herself as much as she did Seven who looked up from what she was doing with a raised eyebrow.

“Indeed?”

Janeway examined her train of thought. “I think … ” she began slowly. “I always knew what it cost me to have him gone so much but we managed to resolve that before he died. But until I was with you, I didn’t really realize what he cost Mother.” She stared at her brownie with the distinct bite mark, eyes distant. “She raised us, made a home for us, and never let on that she ever felt cheated or resentful of Father’s position with Starfleet.”

“Perhaps she did not feel cheated.”

Janeway raised her eyes to meet Seven’s. “Did she tell you that?”

Seven blinked. “The matter of your father did not come up.” She hesitated. “I would not remain quiet if your position with Starfleet kept taking you away from me. I thought I could once, but not now, not once we were married. You belong to me, not to them.”

Janeway felt a tiny grin quirk the corners of her mouth, the first she could remember experiencing in what seemed like days. Sometimes Seven displayed a ferocity that displayed itself at the most unexpected times, a bellicose defense of the people she loved; in its own way, stronger than even Janeway’s sense of protectiveness.

“You’re not my mother,” Kathryn pointed out quietly. “You and she might not look at things the same way.”

“I do not believe Gretchen would have accepted anything simply for the sake of accepting it.” Seven finished grinding the beans and put them in the coffee maker, setting it to brew. “She is far too strong and self-assured for that.”

Kathryn was startled. She realized that she had never truly considered her mother as ‘strong’ before, yet it occurred to her that Gretchen Janeway would indeed have to be strong to have raised two children primarily on her own, to sustain a marriage for years in a century when it was so easy not to renew a marriage contract, to have provided her children with a warm and loving home, all the while being a supportive and loving spouse without a harsh word directed to her husband … at least, not in the girls’ earshot. The captain found herself wondering what sort of marriage her mother and father had, how they had managed to keep it going. She had always assumed it was a happy one, but now she realized she had no real basis for that assumption other than the fact that her parents had never indicated anything different.

“Maybe she didn’t love him as much as you love me,” Janeway said softly, not wanting to contemplate that even as she entertained the possibility.

Seven eyed her. “Or perhaps she merely loved him more than he loved her.” At Janeway’s expression, she clarified. “I am mindful that love is when you place the other person’s happiness ahead of your own. Your father loved being in Starfleet more than he loved her … otherwise I do not believe he would have allowed his job to take precedence over his family. Yet, she allowed him his choice by not objecting to his constant absences.”

Janeway took a breath. “I don’t know that it’s that simple, Annika,” she said, struggling with concepts about her parents she had never before considered. “There was a possible war brewing with the Cardassians, he was called on to do his best to help protect the Federation. That is the duty of every Starfleet officer.”

“Perhaps, but I doubt very much that he went to his death regretting that he did not do more for Starfleet. I do believe that, in his last moment, he probably regretted not having done more for his family.” She looked at Janeway with serious eyes. “I know you adored him, Kathryn, but I believe he was not as good a parent or husband as he could have been. He gave Starfleet a priority above the people he loved.”

Janeway needed to take a few seconds to absorb that and not overreact. “He was a great man,” she said stiffly. Yet she could not forget that last evening they spent together talking, the way his face crumpled when she told him she had never known he was proud of her, his horrible distress as he admitted how his family had paid the price for his duty.

“Not all ‘great’ beings are people who are particularly happy, merely focused and driven.”

“I’ve always considered myself to be very like my father,” Janeway countered stubbornly, and had the presence of mind to realize she had just granted Seven’s point somewhat. “My greatest strengths come from him.”

Seven eyed her. “Tuvok believes that your greatest strengths are also your greatest vulnerabilities. I believe we are dealing with one now. Your compassion for others, your need to be responsible for them, is what makes you a captain that many would follow into a quantum singularity itself. Yet, it is a sense of responsibility that is overdeveloped, just as I suspect it was in your father.” She paused, searching for words. “You cannot be responsible for everyone’s life, Kathryn. You can only really be responsible for your own.”

Janeway frowned, watching as Seven poured her a cup of coffee. She regarded the smooth black surface, breathing in the rich aroma. “I can’t agree with that,” she said finally. “I’m the captain. Accepting that fourth pip makes me responsible for everyone under my command.”

“Not like this,” Seven insisted as she retrieved some fruit juice for herself, and leaned on the counter, searching her partner’s face. “Kathryn, as captain, you are responsible for leading the crew, for protecting us, but you are not responsible for our happiness or for our emotional well-being. You presume too much.”

Janeway picked up her cup and slipped off the stool, walking back into the living area, not wanting to look at Seven suddenly. “I am responsible,” she said softly, staring out the windows lining the hull, watching the stars streaking by, distorted by the warp bubble around the ship. “It was my decision to stay here. It was my decision to strand us in the Delta Quadrant. It was selfish and it was wrong. I’d give my life to be able to go back and change it.”

There was silence and she glanced back to see Seven standing there, looking absolutely devastated. Shocked, Janeway wondered what she had said to have so disturbed the young woman.

“I see,” Seven said, with apparent difficulty. “You regret your decision.”

“Very much so,” Janeway said, confused at Seven’s response. “I should have chosen differently.”

“Then we would never have met,” Seven noted unhappily, “and would not be married now. I would still be with the Collective, possibly dead now as a result of the war with Species 8472. I had not realized you regretted that so profoundly.”

Janeway abruptly realized what true regret was. It was words that she would give her life to take back at this precise second.

0000 Hours

Seven dropped her eyes and stared at the counter, wondering at the ease and depth with which Kathryn could hurt her. With mere words, the captain had made her completely unhappy, and it was done so casually, without a thought. She was vaguely aware of Janeway coming closer, moving around the counter to stand by her as the mug of coffee was placed carefully on the counter, then Seven felt the captain’s hand rest tentatively on her forearm.

“That’s not what I meant,” Janeway said gently. “Annika, I can never regret knowing you.”

“You cannot have it both ways,” Seven said miserably.

There was a silence as the Borg sensed her partner trying to find the right words.

“What I regret,” Janeway offered finally. “Is that my crew does not know the happiness I have found. If it were just my life, if it had only been me lost in the Delta Quadrant, there would be absolutely no regrets, Annika, none at all. Please believe that. I love you with all my heart.” She slipped her arm around the Borg’s waist and rested her forehead on Seven’s shoulder. “Annika, I’m so sorry I hurt you, and I’m so sorry I’ve been acting like such a bitch today. You deserve so much better. I promise to be different from now on,” she added in a somewhat plaintive tone.

Seven took a breath, feeling that strike her to her heart. She was allowing her own vulnerabilities to overcome the point of this evening, which was to help Kathryn achieve resolution. Instead, the captain was being deflected again, taking responsibility for the Borg and distancing herself from her own problem. She turned and gathered Kathryn up in her arms.

“No, I am sorry,” she said sincerely, hugging her tightly. “I know that you do not regret loving me. I just wanted you to understand that it hurt me to hear those words from you, and it is not the first time I have heard them. I had hoped you would have realized by now that while your decision five years ago may have harmed some people on this ship on a limited level, there are many others who are far better off for the choice you made. Not just myself.”

Janeway squeezed her back, resting her forehead on Seven’s chest. “Annika, I know you are trying to make me feel better but …” she began in a muffled tone.

“No,” Seven interrupted her. She drew back so she could stare at Janeway, really wanting the captain to hear her words and understand them. “I have been remiss. I believed that certain truths were self-evident to you and now I see they are not.”

She took Janeway’s hand firmly in her own and drew her toward the chair in the living area, pausing briefly as Janeway retrieved her coffee. She made sure Janeway was comfortable in the chair before perching on the footstool, resting her hands on the captain’s knees.

“Kathryn, let us look at this logically. You are operating under the assumption that other than yourself, everyone else is worse off for your decision. That is untrue. First of all, 35% of the crew is Maquis. Had you returned to the Alpha Quadrant, they would have been imprisoned. Can you imagine a B’Elanna if she had gone to a Federation prison rather than having the opportunity to be your chief engineer? Or Chakotay’s spirit locked away for years simply for following his own path?”

Janeway bent her head. ““You’ve made a point there, but the fact is, they probably would have served only short terms.”

Seven took a breath. “In which case, they would now be dead.” At Janeway’s startled glance, she squeezed the captain’s knees lightly. “Kathryn, you know the Federation is at war with the Dominion, and one of the things that precipitated that was the fact that the Jem’Hadar tracked down and eliminated the Maquis. Not just made it difficult for them to operate or disrupted them by eliminating the key members … they searched out and destroyed every single person who had been a member of the resistance group. 35% of the people you know and see every day would now be dead or in prison had you not made the decision you did five years ago.”

Janeway stared at her and Seven knew that now, she had truly made her point, but she wasn’t finished. “Let us also take individuals such as Neelix and Kes. It is entirely possible that they would have died at the hands of the Kazon instead of finding a home here on Voyager. Kes most certainly would not have evolved into a higher existence had she not been exposed to all she had during her journey with you. Would you deny her that? What of Tom Paris? I have spoken with him, and he has freely admitted that if you had not given him the opportunity you did, he would most likely be ‘lying in a gutter, drunk’ somewhere. Is that a fate you would wish on him?”

Janeway seemed a little stunned, as if she had been broadsided. She took a deep breath. “What about those who have died here in the Delta Quadrant?” she said in a voice devoid of inflection. “You can’t claim those people are better off for my decision. Certainly, not the Starfleet officers who lost their careers and families.”

Seven was not stymied. “We have established that those who were Maquis would be dead in any event. As for those in Starfleet; the Dominion war, at the time we were on DS9, was killing over a thousand Starfleet officers a day. The odds are very good that many of those who have died here, as well as those who are still alive now, would also have perished at the hands of the Cardassians and the Jem’Hadar. It is difficult to pursue a career and family when one is no longer alive.”

Janeway stared at her, then took a long pull from her coffee. “That is all speculation.”

“Yes, but certainly no more than your assumption that Voyager’s crew has been irrevocably damaged due to your decision, the very assumption on which your depression seems to be based. I, at least, have evidence upon which to base my speculation.”

Janeway studied her mug intently. “Have I ever mentioned that you don’t fight fair.”

Seven rubbed her thumbs idly on the inside of Janeway’s knees. “I wish we had fought about this before now. I assumed you were aware of these things, Kathryn. I am sorry.”

“You’re not responsible for me,” Janeway said with a sudden spark of contrariness, tossing Seven’s own words back at her.

“I chose to love you, Kathryn,” Seven insisted quietly, not budging. “Loving you means doing my best to help you achieve happiness. I knew this bothered you, and I should have done what I could to present all the facts.”

Janeway sighed. “It’s not that simple, darling, though I certainly wish it was … as I discovered while I was lost in the void.”

“I did not fully understand what you were experiencing,” Seven said, somewhat sadly. “I knew that you were acting abnormally, but I did not know how to help. I do not know if Chakotay’s solution of formulating a ‘mutiny’ was the right one, but it occurs to me that he should have presented the same argument to you that I have, rather than confronting your command authority.”

“At the time, Annika, we didn’t know exactly what was going on with the Federation and the Dominion.”

“Perhaps, but I wish I had been able to speak with you in the void.”

Janeway shook her head. “I would have just brushed you off, Seven. When I convince myself of something, it’s extremely hard to change my mind.” She hesitated. “I don’t believe you had the same influence on me then, that you do now as my spouse.”

“No?” Seven said in honest disbelief.

Janeway’s lips twitched. “Did you think you had?” the captain asked with a hint of dry humor.

Seven blinked. “I know I have altered your opinon on many things since we became involved.”

Janeway considered that. “So you have,” she said with an unfathomable expression. “Perhaps our talking would have changed things after all.” A shadow of sadness crossed her eyes. “Perhaps I wouldn’t have been so quick to abandon you and my crew by trying to remain behind in the void.”

Seven regarded her. “You did not want to. Not really. Otherwise, none of us could have stopped you from taking a shuttle and holding open the worm hole. Chakotay was gambling that our unified approach would show you how much we all cared for you … how much we all needed you.”

Janeway lowered her head. “Sometimes it’s hard to be needed that much, Annika.”

“I need you,” Seven said, not quite understanding. “I always shall.”

Janeway smiled faintly. “I’m glad about that.” She drained the last of her coffee and sat the empty cup down on the low table. “That isn’t quite what I meant. When so many people rely on you all the time, it can become difficult to live up to the expectations you’ve set for yourself. Sometimes I just want to … give up.”

“Is that why you came up with the idea to remain behind in the void? To give up?”

Janeway frowned, obviously thinking about it seriously. “I don’t know,” she said finally and now her tone was one of frustration. “It’s really hard to understand what I was thinking at the time. In retrospect, I can only guess at what brought me to that point, and to be honest, I didn’t want to think about it much once it was behind me.”

Seven pursed her lips. “If you thought about it now, what would you conclude about your emotions at the time?”

Janeway tilted her head, thinking about it, her eyes grey. “I think that after five years of being lost, of seeking a way home, encountering the void … that large expanse of emptiness with no end in sight … made me feel like a complete and utter failure as a commanding officer. I truly believed the crew of Voyager would be better off without me.” She dropped her eyes. “I believed you would be better off without me.”

Seven considered that on a purely objective level, rather than an emotional one, deciding that was what Janeway required at the moment. “It was an incorrect assumption. I do not believe that we, or the ship, would have survived for as long as we have without your leadership.”

An expression crossed Janeway’s face, soft and vulnerable.

“I don’t get to hear that much,” she admitted quietly. “Though I suspect you’re biased.”

Seven raised an eyebrow. “Not in this,” she said as emphatically as possible. “I would not have followed anyone less than you, Kathryn. No one else could have forged such a diverse crew into one that functions so well.” She paused, searching for the proper words. “I know that it is not just I who feels this way. Long before we were involved romantically, I spoke with many about you and your abilities … other times, I merely listened while others spoke in places such as the messhall. The overwhelming opinion is that you are a formidable leader and one that could be served without hesitation.” She took Janeway’s hand in her own, studying the long fingers, the nails cut squarely. “I am sorry I have not told you this before. It did not occur to me that just as I function better when my abilities are commented favorably upon, so would you. I think we all believe on some level that you are absolutely confident, that you do not need any encouragement or appreciation and that was wrong.”

Janeway smiled tremulously and squeezed Seven’s hands.

“Thank you for telling me now,” she said sincerely.

Seven leaned forward and kissed her gently.

“You are welcome.”

0100 Hours

Janeway lay on her back on the couch, resting quietly as she regarded the stars passing by the hull windows. Though this had turned into something of an extended discussion, she discovered that it was actually helping her achieve a sort of perspective. It was most definitely an improvement over the long and dreary hours she had spent alone fighting her demons so many times before. She glanced over to where Seven was retrieving some refreshment from the replicator, bringing both glasses over as she joined the captain. Janeway rose to let Seven sit down and then settled back across the Borg’s lap, accepting the wine glass and resting it on her stomach. She wondered what Seven was celebrating, noting the flute glass of champagne with mild surprise.

“Do you miss your parents?”

Seven hesitated and Janeway looked at her, glancing sideways to study the narrow features. Finally, Seven shook her head.

“I do not believe I know how to answer that. I bear a certain amount of resentment towards them for their arrogance in underestimating the Borg. I feel very angry that by making the choices they did, they deprived me of growing up Human. Yet, at the same time, I think about being with you and know that if they had not made the decisions they had, that if you had not made the decisions you did, if I had not been exactly where I was at that particular time, you and I would never have met.”

Janeway took a mouthful of wine, rolling it around on her tongue before swallowing. “But do you ever miss them?” she insisted.

Seven looked at her. “No, not really. When I went over the files that were recovered from the Raven, I was … saddened at what I read, but I did not feel a sense of connection that would dictate that I should miss my parents now. I remember them only faintly, my father a little better than my mother, for some reason, though I am not entirely certain why.”

Janeway nodded. “I miss my mother terribly. It seems I spent my whole life missing my dad, but I always felt like Mother was right there, so close all the time. It wasn’t until Voyager was lost that I understood what not having her around meant.” She rubbed her cheek lightly against Seven’s chin. “I wish I could tell her.”

“I am sure she is aware of your feelings.”

“Oh darling, I hope so,” Janeway said sorrowfully. “So many wasted opportunities. Annika, Promise me you’ll never let an opportunity to tell someone how you feel go by. Before you know it, it’s too late and you can’t anymore.”

“I promise.” Seven leaned forward and kissed Janeway on the temple. “I love you, Kathryn.”

Janeway sighed. “Thank you,” she said gently. “I love you too, darling, but I wasn’t thinking so much about us. I was thinking of other people you care about that you might not always tell.”

“Like B’Elanna?” Seven nodded. “You are correct. I have been remiss in telling people like her and the Doctor how much their friendship has meant to me. I shall rectify that as soon as possible.”

Janeway leaned her head back, closing her eyes. “Before we left DS9 for the Badlands, it had been six months since I had spoken directly to Mom, rather than over a comm channel. I kept meaning to, but I just never seemed to have the time to take a trip to Indiana. I’m sure she knows I love her, but I wish with all my heart that I had told her that face to face.” She paused and swallowed convulsively. “One of my biggest fears is that we will finally return home and … it will be too late.”

Seven considered that as she ran her finger gently along the line of Janeway’s jaw. “Kathryn, she is only 68. With the average human life span lasting almost 150 years, you will have many decades with her yet.”

“I hope so, darling.” Janeway sipped her wine and nodded at Seven’s glass, deliberately changing the subject. “What are you celebrating?”

Seven sighed. “I like the taste. Is it really that terrible to appreciate champagne merely for its flavorful properties?”

Janeway blinked. “I suppose not, but don’t enjoy it too much. It’s easy to overindulge with that stuff.”

“I am aware of its side effects.” Seven tilted her head. “I like how the bubbles tickle my nose.”

Amusement stirred in Janeway at that.

Settling against her partner, she felt a sort of easy detachment steal over her, the same sense of alertness that occured whenever she had been awake for a long time, as if her body was no longer a consideration in how she functioned. She knew that she should be exhausted and in fact, probably was. She had simply moved into the level beyond tiredness … she could go days like this, though the severity of the eventual crash, when it came, was directly proportional to how long and hard she pushed herself.

She was also very aware that she could be taken to bed with just a word in Seven’s ear, probably in a glorious fashion at this point, but she discovered that she was enjoying this time with her spouse, that the manner in which they were talking about everything and anything was in its own way, extremely healing. She was still having difficulty with certain topics and kept veering away from them but the more they talked, the easier it was for her to delve into what was truly bothering her.

“Do you remember the first time you drank champagne?”

Seven nodded. “It was the day we first attempted to utilize the slipstream drive. There was a celebration.”

“Premature as it turned out,” Janeway reminded. “We should have tried the experiment on a few more shuttles before actually trying it with the ship.”

“I became slightly intoxicated,”

Janeway blinked. “I thought you told me your only time was on the L’Borna planet?”

After the incident on the morning of their wedding when the captain had been experiencing the most exquisite agony of a hangover, Janeway had wanted to know why Seven was so brusque with her. When she had asked Seven if she had ever suffered the repercussions of being intoxicated, the Borg had been very enlightening. Now the captain realized her partner had not been annoyed with her, she had simply been treating her in the manner which she had been taught … without any sympathy or empathy whatsoever.

We reap what we sow, Janeway noted to herself dryly.

“That was shore leave. The ship experience was accidental and the Doctor forestalled most of the effects with a medical detoxification.”

“That was nice of him.” Janeway regarded the ruby depths of her wine. “The first time I got a little snookered was with the gang in a ‘haunted house’.”

Seven was silent for a moment. “I did not understand any of what you just said,” she admitted finally.

Janeway chuckled. “I mean, I became intoxicated with a group of friends in a historical house that was supposed to be inhabited by the spirits of the people who had lived there in the past,” she elaborated. “It wasn’t, of course, but it made the evening more … spicy.”

“That was part of the experience?”

“It enhanced it, yes,” Janeway allowed with a smile. She turned serious for a moment. “Do you feel you’ve missed out on anything, Annika?”

Seven tilted her head. “How so?”

“Our discussion about drinking and the L’Borna prompted me to reread my personal logs of that time,” Janeway said slowly, feeling her way through the conversation. “I’m not sure if you were aware of this, but I was feeling pretty vulnerable then, particularly regarding our relationship. I thought you were being deprived of certain things by being involved with me. You’re almost twenty years younger than I am, Annika. That can make a difference.”

“Only if we allow it.” Seven stroked the captain’s hair gently. “I realized at the time that you felt our being involved romantically was somehow detrimental for me. I believed I had reassured you about that.” She hesitated. “Of course, you would have forgotten that. Kathryn, being with you makes me complete. What my life might have been had I not been assimilated is unimportant. I simply do not wish to be anywhere else in the universe than where I am at this moment. Though you may believe that I have missed a good part of my life, I do not feel the same. I have experienced things in the Collective, witnessed natural phenomena, encountered situations that others in the crew would require several lifetimes to achieve.” She hesitated. “Sometimes I feel you are too young for me. “

Janeway laughed, a startled bark at the unexpected humor. “I guess I’ll just have to accept that perspective.”

“It is an accurate representation.”

Janeway was silent for a long moment. “When the call came in this morning,” she said tightly, “all I could think about was that you work in that area of the ship.”

Seven regarded her closely. “The astrometrics lab sustained damage but there was no danger for me,” she said carefully. “I had an appointment in sickbay for implant maintenance.”

“I didn’t know that at the time. When I discovered that it wasn’t you who had been hurt, all I could feel was … this great sense of relief. The fact that two other crewmembers had been caught in the destruction was almost … irrelevant.”

Seven appeared surprised, and Janeway wondered if she should have spoken so plainly, but now that the words were out, it was as if a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She wondered if that was why she had been so desperate in her desire to save the men … to make up for her previous distinction between the worth of almost everyone else’s life and that of her partner’s.

Janeway took a breath. “It shocked me. I’ve come to realize that I would give up my command for you, my ship, my career … even my life .. but I never knew until that second that I’d gladly trade someone else’s life for yours.”

Seven blinked. “Is that so unusual? You are the most important person in the universe to me. I believed … I hoped … I was the same for you.”

“You are, but from the time I was very young, I was taught to look beyond my own needs, my own desires, to serve the greater good. This is not how I normally think.”

“It bothers you?”

“It … worries me,” Janeway said finally, after thinking about it very hard. “A captain has to put her crew first, not her own … self interest.”

Seven considered that. “I do not believe this is the same thing. Kathryn, I love you. I know you love me. You should not feel guilty because you were relieved and happy I was not harmed. You have always wanted me to be Human. Yet, sometimes, I think you wish not to be Human yourself, that you wish to be as detached and as unfeeling as I was as a Borg. To be above all Human needs and desires and weaknesses. I have never understood that about you.”

Janeway shook her head. “I don’t understand it either. I demand that you cherish your Humanity even as I despair of it in myself.”

“What you must do is accept your Humanity.”

Janeway smiled briefly. “That simple?”

“Yes,” Seven said plainly.

Janeway took a sip of wine. “Maybe you’re right,” she said thoughtfully. “Maybe it is just that simple.”

0200 Hours

Seven slowly drew her fingertips along the instep of Janeway’s sole, gently pushing into the pressure points she had learned about in her research into foot massage. She glanced up at her partner who was lounging in the chair, a blissful expression on her face, her eyes closed as her head lay back on the cushion. Seven smiled faintly and slowly massaged the base before moving up to rub the fleshy cushion just below the toes. Kathryn had the most elegant toes, slim, long, acutely responsive to the Borg’s touch. Seven knew she could put her partner to sleep doing this, or arouse her greatly with just an alternate form of stroking, but for tonight, she was content only to relax Janeway … to try to ease those lines at each corner of the captain’s mouth, to make the shadows staining beneath those blue-grey eyes disappear.

She wondered if their discussion was helping. It did seem that Janeway’s shoulders set a little easier beneath the thin grey pyjamas.

“Annika,” Janeway asked, raising her head to look at her partner fondly.

“Yes, Kathryn,” Seven replied softly, using her thumb to press against certain areas of sensitivity in the captain’s foot.

“Do you ever wonder why we fell in love?”

“The first time, or the second?”

“Either. Both.” Janeway smiled. “I don’t mean, why were we attracted to each other. The traits I love about you are something I’ve told you many times. I mean, do you think we were destined to be together?”

Seven raised an eyebrow. “The Borg have no concept of fate or destiny.”

“What do you believe?” Janeway insisted, not letting her off that easy.

Seven considered it seriously. “Do you know of the incident where we entered an alternate reality?” She realized it was unlikely the captain could remember the actual event but she hoped Janeway recollected the logs regarding that time.

“The reality where my counterpart had managed to return Voyager to the Alpha Quadrant a year earlier? That ‘Janeway’ never interfered in the Borg/Species 8472 war.”

Seven lifted her chin. ““Theoretically, that should have meant that Kathryn and Annika would never have met.”

“But they did.”

“In that reality, my counterpart was never assimilated. Yet, of all the paths her fully Human life could have taken her, she ended up working on Borg transwarp coils in a science facility commanded by … your counterpart.” She looked at Janeway with an arched brow. “So it would seem that no matter what path our lives could take, they appear destined to intersect. Granted, that is a very limited scientific sampling of only two universes but it is still … intriguing.”

Janeway smiled faintly. “It is,” she agreed. She was silent for a moment, clearly thinking about it. “I think I like the idea that no matter what, we would have met. Though whether we would fall in love is another aspect of it altogether.”

“I believe that in that reality, our counterparts will eventually reach an understanding.”

“Only because of our interference,” Janeway noted dryly, apparently remembering at least, her own effort to unite the couple.

Seven gazed at her evenly. “Perhaps that was destiny as well.”

Janeway’s smile widened and she wiggled her toes under Seven’s fingertips. “Good point.” She pulled her legs away from Seven and sat up. “Let me do your feet now.”

“I would prefer you scratch my back.”

Janeway smiled. “Of course, my love,” she said indulgently. She gestured with her chin toward the couch. “After you.”

Seven uncoiled from the footstool and opened her robe, shrugging it off her shoulders as she lay face down on the sofa, but only after displacing Jake who seemed very disgruntled at being disturbed from his nap. Seven sighed happily as she felt Kathryn straddle her hips, the blunt edges of the captain’s nails running over her spine and shoulders with delicious pressure.

“Have you noticed how small these quarters have become?” she asked after several long moments where she wallowed in the most absolute sybaritic delight.

“Oh, yes, but what other choice do we have? Get rid of Jake?”

“We could move back to ‘my place’,” Seven suggested. “Sectioning off a certain amount of cargo bay two is an option that would grant us more area. I believe that if we utilize levels, expanding upward, we could create very spacious living quarters.”

She listened to Janeway breathe in the silence that followed that suggestion, the soft skritching of fingernails over Seven’s back a soothing sound as the captain took her time to seriously consider the idea. “It’s too far away from the bridge,” Kathryn decided finally. “Besides, it has no windows and there is always the fact that it would not be good for crew morale for us to expand when they can’t.”

Seven thought about it. “You are correct,” she allowed, a little disappointed. She had already been designing the structure of the new living abode in her mind. She thought about what else Kathryn had said. “Do you think others also wish to expand?”

“Oh, darling, I know they do,” Janeway said and Seven was disturbed to hear the sadness return to the tone.

She turned, rose to her elbows, looking over her shoulder at the captain. “Explain.”

Janeway sighed and rose from Seven who sat up, pulling her robe back on. The couple sat side by side on the couch, and the captain propped her feet up on the coffee table. “Annika, we’re not the only married couple on the ship, nor are we the only couple who have discussed children. More than a few have come to me requesting permission to have a family, and I’ve had to refuse. Voyager simply cannot support the facilities that a group of children would require.”

Seven blinked. “I did not realize that.”

“I doubt many people have,” the captain said. “It was handled discreetly and so far, the couples in question have agreed.” She paused. “I have no idea what will happen when a couple simply refuses to allow me to dictate what is essentially a basic human biological need … to reproduce and grow. Some very difficult decisions will have to be made on both sides. I don’t look forward to it.”

Seven tried to understand all the ramifications of what her partner had just said, and not for the first time, gained some vague sense of the pressure Janeway was constantly under. Was it any wonder that she occasionally fell to depression and self-doubt. In a way, it was amazing that she was not always locked away in her ready room. Once again, Seven was profoundly moved and astounded at the strength contained in that compact, seemingly fragile human form.

“Can I do anything to help? Could we utilize cargo bay two for the sort of facilities you’re talking about?”

Janeway smiled faintly and shook her head. “If it becomes clear that we’re not going to make it home anytime soon, then yes, I’ll consider it. But with the slipstream drive offering a very good chance at getting back in the next couple of years, I think I’ll stand by the idea of keeping Voyager an adult ship only … other than Naomi, of course.”

Seven took a breath. “I wonder if those people feel as bad about being unable to have children as I do.”

Janeway reached over and entwined her fingers with that of her partner. “I’m sure they do, but like us, once we return home, children will become a very real option. Until then, we continue on.”

Seven squeezed the hand carefully. “Are you still willing to bear our children?”

A tiny grin quirked the captain’s mouth. “I am, darling, though I suspect that I shall not be terribly gracious doing so. In fact, there may be times when I’ll probably be noticeably cranky on occasion.”

“That would differ from how you are when not pregnant in what way?”

Janeway poked her in the side and laughed. “Touché,” she said. “But let’s see how gracious you are when you need to change dirty diapers in the middle of the night.”

Seven stared at her blankly. “‘Diapers’?”

Janeway laughed again. “Somehow, darling, I don’t believe your research is as extensive as you think it is. In fact, it’s damned selective at times. Instead of just studying the bio-genetic aspects of producing offspring, you should start looking at the care and feeding of them afterward. They’ll make taking care of Jake seem like a breeze.” She paused. “I also think you’ll have a better understanding of why Voyager is not a good place to raise a child.”

“Ensign Wildman is raising her child here. Naomi seems healthy and happy.”

Janeway nodded. “Because of necessity, not by choice. Samantha conceived before we left the Alpha Quadrant. Darling, if she had known she was going to be lost for five years, I sincerely doubt she would have even considered the thought of bringing a child into it.”

Seven nodded and made a mental note to extend her research parameters. She always managed to gather extensive knowledge during her forays into the ship’s databanks, but sometimes she did not always know what lines to pursue. Until she ran into it in a conversation such as this one, she did not realize where she was lacking.

“Do you ever wonder what happens with the people we encounter on our journey?” Seven asked idly as she slipped her right arm around Janeway, the captain settling against her in the warm, comfortable way she had.

Janeway’s lips twitched as she smiled briefly. “Sometimes, but most of the time, I have my hands full worrying about the people on the ship.”

“What about beings like the Ocampa?” Seven asked carefully.

Janeway inhaled slowly and looked thoughtful. “We bought them five years. For a species whose life span is only nine years, that might have been enough for them to prepare for having to leave their sanctuary.” She hesitated. “I’m not sure if the decision I made those years ago really made any real difference.”

“It did,” Seven assured her. “If not for them, then certainly for a great many people in the Delta Quadrant. Just in the short time I have been with Voyager, I have seen that.” She studied Janeway’s hand held so gently in her own. “You truly miss Kes, don’t you?”

“She was very dear to me, Annika. A good friend and an exceptional person.”

“Did you love her?” Seven asked.

“Very much so.” Janeway tilted her head slightly. “Not the way you might think … there was nothing physical there.”

“I was not suggesting that,” Seven said gently. “She had a great effect on people such as Tuvok, Neelix and the Doctor … I was merely curious. I never really knew her.”

Janeway glanced over at her, eyes soft. “I think, you and she would have become great friends.” She smiled with bittersweet regret. “You did miss out in that case.”

“She is not dead. Perhaps we shall encounter her again.”

Janeway seemed cheered by that suggestion. “Perhaps we will.” She squeezed Seven’s left hand gently, studying the Borg mesh with idle interest. “What about you? Have you encountered anyone that you think about now?”

Seven thought about all the various beings that she had come in contact with the past couple of years. Beings both hostile and friendly, species quickly forgotten, and others who lingered in her mind long after the fact.

“Tazna Jade,” Seven said finally, with a touch of mischievousness. “She was very much like you in a great many ways.”

“Only better,” Janeway said, a bit sourly. Seven did not think the captain really remembered the Confederation First from the Beta Quadrant, but the Borg knew the captain’s personal logs had been quite pointed in their opinion of the silver-haired female who had made an intensive romantic play for Seven. It was the first time either of the couple had realized how very jealous Janeway could be.

“Merely as formidable. I think if I had not been a factor, you and she would have been good friends as well.”

“Perhaps,” Janeway said in such a noncommittal tone that Seven glanced at her, a faint smile touching her full lips. “Or perhaps not. Anyone else?”

“I think of Gretchen and Phoebe all the time. I am grateful I had the chance to know them, yet, at the same time, it has given me a longing to be in the Alpha Quadrant that would be easier to function without.”

Janeway snuggled closer to Seven, her head falling back to rest on the Borg’s shoulder. “It might be easier to not feel the sense of loneliness and distance, but darling, that sense of home is all that gets me through sometimes.”

“I understand.” Seven hesitated, resting her cheek on top of the soft auburn hair. “I particularly miss Phoebe. She is very … enthusiastic.”

Janeway smiled. “How so?”

“Whatever she is concentrating on at the moment, she gives her whole attention to it,” Seven tried to explain. “She grabs life as Jake grabs his food.”

The captain blinked and glanced back at her, turning her head. “Nice simile,” she complimented. “Phoebe has always been a wild spirit. Sometimes I’ve felt very envious of that trait in her. It seemed as if she always garnered the greater amount of attention from our parents, and was granted a freedom from discipline that I wasn’t.”

Seven frowned. “You … disliked her?” She was very uncomfortable with that thought.

Janeway shook her head. “No darling, I love her,” she said, apparently realizing that she had confused her partner. “But I’m honest enough with myself to realize I was jealous of her, and that it was completely my own doing. I always tried so hard to be perfect, to be better than those around me.”

“That is an admirable goal. The pursuit of perfection is one I have followed most of my existence.”

“When that pursuit leaves you empty, however, when it prevents you from being happy, what then?”

Seven considered that. “Being in love, caring for another, could be considered a flaw. It opens one up to be harmed in a way that nothing else can.”

“It does, but I was so intent on trying to make my father proud, I never realized he already was. I tried so hard to be the best, that I hurt other people, including Phoebe, in that relentless pursuit. I was so self absorbed in being a complete Starfleet officer, I missed out on telling people I loved them, like my mother.”

“It is similar to the Borg,” Seven said thoughtfully. “Your goal of absolute perfection did not allow for emotion.”

Janeway was silent for a moment. “Yes, like the Borg. I hate to admit that, darling, but I think you’re right. I have been so arrogant.”

“Perhaps that is one aspect of your personality,” Seven agreed, pulling Janeway closer to her, “but only a small part.” She kissed her partner gently on her forehead. “I think that you have spent this evening going over your short-comings, Kathryn. Perhaps it is time we concentrate on what you really are; a wonderful, amazing, incredibly strong, competent and compassionate woman … and the person I love completely.”

“I know my strengths,” Janeway said dryly, though it seemed she was pleased at the words, a faint blush touching her features. “As well as my weaknesses.”

“As a Starfleet officer, perhaps, but as an individual? As a Human? I do not believe you understand what truly makes you strong.”

“And you do,” Janeway said wryly, a faint smile edging her lips.

“Of course,” Seven replied evenly. “You care about others. That does not mean you are not occasionally abrupt or rude or even harsh, but at your core, at the center of all you are, you care more for others than for yourself. You believed in a Borg drone when many others in the crew, others who could be considered ‘kinder’ than you, would have gladly left me behind with the Collective. You allowed a refugee Talaxian from the Delta Quadrant to travel with you, and made a place for him in your crew as a fully functional participant. You accepted a hologram as your chief medical officer, and granted him an official acknowledgment of his sentience.”

“I had help with the Doctor,” Janeway pointed out. “I have my own set of biases.”

“But you were strong enough to put them aside and help the Doctor when he needed you … more than once. You call Voyager a family, Kathryn. It is, but only because you have made it that way, and only because you were strong enough to hold it all together. I believe that if you can be measured as a person, it is not by what you have done in terms of scientific, militaristic or even in command accomplishments. It is measured by the people whose existence is richer by your touching of their lives, not by being responsible for them, but by simply caring for them.”

She glanced down at her partner and saw tears caught on the fine lashes, the hard swallow of the elegant throat. “You have become quite eloquent,” Janeway said finally, in a very husky voice.

“Another thing I owe to you,” Seven said. “As I owe you everything else. You have given me my life, Kathryn.”

“You have given me myself.”

0300 Hours

Janeway rested her head on Seven’s lap as they reclined on the floor, the Borg’s back supported by the base of the couch as once more, Jake had taken possession of the cushions. His snout was positioned next to Seven’s neck and his breathing stirred the long blond hair. Janeway smiled faintly as she looked up at her partner, opening her mouth to accept the small bit of fruit Seven offered.

“And then,” she added, mumbling around the grape in her mouth. “Tuvok made that logical report to the board of admirals about my lack of tactical training for my crew. I can’t say as it was appreciation at first sight. He really outraged me, as a matter of fact.”

“I’m sure he was aware of that,” Seven noted, humor threading her tone. “You have never told me how you and he met before.” She paused. “He admires you very much.”

“Vulcans do not ‘admire’, darling,” Janeway corrected gently.

“Admiration is an acceptable Vulcan trait,” Seven said, unperturbed. “Otherwise, there would be nothing for a younger Vulcan to aspire to. It is ‘envy’ that is illogical.”

Janeway felt warmth spread through her, both at the way Seven so casually refused to back down, which was very good for them as a couple, and because of what the young Borg had said about Tuvok’s attitude towards his commanding officer. The captain was actually starting to feel much better, though she normally disdained anything that smacked of praise regarding herself, believing it self indulgent and irrelevant to the job. But the truth was she needed approval and appreciation as much as the next person … perhaps even more so at times like this since she so rarely heard any in the normal scheme of things. Certainly, the approval of her father and her mentors at Starfleet had been a driving force in her early life and career.

“I admire Tuvok greatly as well. I can’t imagine how hard it’s been for him to be away from his family.”

“Yet, with the Vulcanoid life span averaging well of 250 years, he is better able to survive being lost in the Delta Quadrant than others. He is not even middle aged.”

“He’ll never get these years back. He’s already missed so much … like the birth of his first grandchild.” She hesitated. “There may be other things to be concerned about with him.”

“Pon farr,” Seven noted succinctly.

Janeway exhaled audibly. “So you know,“she said, feeling a sort of relief.

“I am not sure I completely understand all the ramifications, but I am aware that there is a possibility of him dying if he is unable to mate.”

“It can be delayed,” Janeway revealed, “both by drugs and meditation, but only to a point. If he cannot achieve a psychic bond of sorts…” She trailed off unhappily.

“I will mate with him,” Seven said placidly. “We have mind melded before quite successfully.”

Janeway forced down the immediate reaction that statement generated, taking a moment to formulate the right words. It would not do to overreact to what had been an honestly sincere desire on Seven’s part to help someone the Borg respected so much. Clearly, while Seven knew pon farr was a time of mating, she was not conversant with all it implied. It was entirely possible that she believed Vulcans mated as they lived … logically.

“Darling,” Janeway said in a very gentle voice, “I’m sure if he knew of your most generous offer, he would be properly appreciative, though I think it would be a bad idea to suggest it to him. It’s not merely a matter of a psychic bond similar to the one you’ve experienced before. In fact, this is far more than that. Vulcans, during this time, lose all control of their emotions, which can be far more powerful than Human ones. It is those emotions that would come through such a link. Then there is the physical aspect of it.”

“‘Physical’?” Seven frowned faintly.

“Vulcan mating at this time could be considered … violent. The average Human female could be in trouble simply because Vulcans are naturally much stronger than us. From what I understand, there is a complete loss of discipline and composure at this time. That’s why Vulcans have made this such a private and personal thing. They don’t like outsiders to know of it.” She reached up and touched Seven’s cheek. “Darling, you had difficulty with a loving spouse using an ‘accessory’. Tuvok would not wish to hurt you, but he would, perhaps quite badly, at such a time. It would be completely beyond his control.”

Seven looked very disturbed at this revelation. “B’Elanna told me that she was able to help Vorik at his time.”

“She beat him up. Besides, Vorik wasn’t bonded, Annika. Even if I had the gall to order someone to act in a similar manner, simply defeating Tuvok in a physical contest would not be sufficient. His psychic bond would require either mating or dying. Annika. Unless he can find a partner who is physically capable of withstanding the denser musculature, as well as one who can maintain a highly disciplined mental bond at the same time just as a Vulcan female does, he will perish. While you could possibly do one, you would be overwhelmed by the other, I think.”

“Is there no hope?” Seven looked devastated.

“There is always hope,” Janeway noted firmly. “I’m still figuring it out, darling. I’m not going to let him down.”

“Would a hologram suffice?”

“It didn’t for Vorik. I sincerely doubt it would for Tuvok, even if we were able to rig some sort of neural connection.” She stoked Seven’s face. “Darling, try not to let this occupy you. I’ll find a way.”

“I believe you,” Seven said, but her eyes were very unhappy. “Perhaps B’Elanna or myself could assist in this.”

Janeway smiled faintly, deliberately changing the subject and hoping Seven would not notice it … or if she did, would allow it for now.

“I thought B’Elanna was interested in finding a female lover.”

Seven stared at her, a little furrow between her sandy brows. “She has mentioned that.” She raised an eyebrow. “Do you have someone in mind?”

Janeway smiled and shook her head. “Her choice in the possible males on the ship who could make her happy were fairly limited. I think the possibilities are even smaller in Voyager’s female population. In fact, the only two whom I think could be suitable for her, are already spoken for.” She looked at Seven and smiled gently, indicating which two she was talking about. “I think she and Tom should reunite.”

“That will never happen,” Seven responded quickly … and automatically. Her face smoothed out as she thought. “Perhaps Susan Nicoletti. She is also an engineering officer.”

Janeway had quite a definite opinion on this topic, but it had diverted Seven’s mind from Tuvok for the moment so she was determined to keep it going. “What about Ensign Wildman?”

Seven looked vaguely offended by the suggestion. “Neelix and she are … together,” she said, hesitating over the choice of words. The Talaxian and the married Starfleet Officer were not engaging in an affair, but there was no question that the pair had become very good friends here in the Delta Quadrant so far away from Deep Space 9 … and Samantha’s husband. “Besides, I do not believe B’Elanna is a good influence on children. That would not be good for Naomi.”

“She certainly wasn’t a good influence on you,” Janeway agreed dryly.

Seven eyed her narrowly, then raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps I was the one influencing her.”

Janeway chuckled. “Don’t think that hadn’t crossed my mind.”

Seven regarded her with a faint smile. The two younger women, Borg and Klingon, once they became friends, had engaged in a certain amount of what had to be considered juvenile behavior, such as chasing each other through the ship while on duty as well as taking advantage of away missions to indulge in non-regulation behavior like drinking, carousing and fishing, while generally acting like two teenagers let loose from parental authority. Janeway had tolerated it for a certain period of time before bringing the hammer down on her chief engineer. She probably would have done the same to her partner, but the explosion had taken the memory of it completely away. Since that incident also had a distinctly maturing effect on the Borg, the need to discipline the young woman had disappeared, but Janeway wondered occasionally if Seven missed the rebellious side of herself.

“She and Lt. Kim may come to an understanding.”

Surprised, Janeway raised her eyebrow. “You noticed that too?”

“At our wedding? B’Elanna seems to have forgiven him for defending Lt. James at her court martial. I believe, that once she was past being angry, she was impressed by how competently he had conducted himself.”

“He really has matured in the past two years,” Janeway noted. “Perhaps it’s time to promote him again.”

“Then he will be a rank above Mr. Paris. Not necessarily damaging in itself, but how would Paris react to that on top of seeing Lt. Kim and B’Elanna together?”

Janeway took a breath. “I think you’re probably correct there.” She eyed her partner thoughtfully. “Maybe I should put you in charge of personnel. You seem to know them better than Chakotay.”

Seven blinked. Then frowned briefly as she noted the expression in the captain’s eyes and nudged her. “You are being facetious. You will never replace Chakotay as your first officer.”

Janeway grinned unrepentantly back at her. “Love, you’ve become too quick for me. I can’t tease you at all anymore.”

“Not in that manner.” Seven offered the captain another grape and then, when Janeway refused it, having had her fill, she ate it herself, chewing slowly. “Do you think he was really in love with B’Elanna?”

Janeway pursed her lips. “I don’t know, Annika. Chakotay isn’t really in the habit of truly confiding in me … not about his most innermost feelings.”

“I was very jealous of him once,” Seven confided, and Janeway had a sudden flash of her partner confined to the brig, ignominiously perched on the stark bunk, the memory connected somehow to another fragment of her first officer, bruised and bloodied, being attended to in sickbay.

“I think I remember that. You struck him.”

“Yes,” Seven said, an odd expression on her face, midway between happiness at Janeway remembering something of that time, and shame at what the memory was about. “I believed that you and he were … copulating. I know now that was not the case, but it is what I thought at the time.”

“So you belted him,” Janeway said, her voice carefully without inflection.

Seven lowered her eyes, a blush touching her cheeks. “Only once.”

Despite herself, Janeway could not contain her laugh. “I’m sure he’s very grateful for that.” She paused, thinking about the brooding man that was Voyager’s first officer. “Chakotay’s been a good friend to me, and to you … but for some reason, I’m not entirely sure he considers us to be the same type of friends.”

“I believe he looks to you as a friend,” Seven argued mildly.

Janeway shook her head. “There’s a piece of himself he never lets anyone close to. At one time, when he introduced me to my spirit guide, I think we were exploring it but … after we were trapped on that planet together, he never again tried to share his mystical beliefs with me. Not on that level.”

“Do you believe you did something on the planet that made him withdraw?” Seven asked with great interest.

Janeway shrugged lightly. “I don’t know. I don’t know if we ever talked about it or if I’m only recognizing that distance he put between us now.” She paused. “Chakotay was able to use his beliefs to help Neelix after he … ‘died’. It may have kept Neelix from wasting the second chance you gave him.”

“I do not believe I completely understand the Talaxian’s reaction to being restored,” Seven said slowly. “Neelix apologized later but he was quite angry with me for my actions … for saving his life.”

Janeway blinked. “Did I know that? I mean, I knew about his ‘death’ and your use of Borg nanoprobes to bring him back, but did you tell me about his anger?”

“It was part of my report that resulted in the policy you established.”

Janeway went very still. “What policy?”

“Where I was not to use the nanoprobes to ‘bring people back to life’. I made my report to you, Commander Chakotay and the Doctor. The three of you came to a consensus and made the decision to prevent such action.” She hesitated. “Otherwise, I would have used them today to restore the two crewmembers who were killed.”

Janeway sat up abruptly, staring at her partner. “Are you telling me you can bring those two back to life?” she asked sharply, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Yes,“Seven said with a touch of confusion. “But they are not Talaxian.”

Janeway opened her mouth and then stopped, acknowledging that she was missing something here. The awareness curbed her outrage and the words trembling on her lips that might have proven imprudent. “What difference does it make whether they’re Talaxian or not?”

“It was discovered that Talaxians can eventually expel the nanoprobes. The rest of the Humanoid species on Voyager cannot. If a Borg cube comes within a certain distance, the nanoprobes could be activated by just a transmitted signal. That was why you determined for the good of the ship that any deceased crewmember should not be restored utilizing this technology. It could possibly stock the crew with too many drones should we encounter the Borg again.”

“Assimilating at a distance?” Janeway said, eyes wide as she absorbed this. Clearly this had been something that had been stored in the classified logs … she still had to go through all those. Then another thought struck her. “Annika, we both have nanoprobes in our systems. So does Harry Kim.”

Seven regarded her evenly. “Yes, we do. Because you and I have been assimilated in the past, it is very possible that we both could be activated by little more than a passing signal.” She paused. “Chakotay is aware of this and certain protocols have been established to deal with that eventuality.”

Janeway took a deep breath. “I think maybe I need to go back over all my encounters with the Borg. A little closer this time. I missed that one completely.”

“I am sorry, Kathryn.” Seven’s features were distressed. “I do not know what needs to be brought to your attention until you indicate ignorance of it.”

Janeway leaned over and patted Seven’s arm. “It’s all right, Annika. It’s an ongoing process. We just have to adapt as we go.” She tried to still her racing pulse, settling next to her partner against the couch, and leaning into the lanky form. She stared into the greyness of the room. “I need to know more about what I have floating in my veins. Do you think they make a difference in my physiology right now?”

Seven hesitated, looking at her oddly. “You would not have survived as long as you had in the Barellan prison had the nanoprobes not continually repaired your internal injuries from the beatings. Remember how quickly you recovered once I reached you?”

Janeway looked at her, the saliva drying instantly in her mouth. “I thought that was the medicine.”

“That helped combat the pneumonia, but the traumatic injuries, the ruptured organs, the punctured heart and lungs from rib breakage, the fractured skull, the damaged spine … the nanoprobes repaired those.”

“My god, Annika, why didn’t the Doctor tell me when I was in sickbay?”

“He did not realize it during his first examination of you. It was only when you were debriefing the crew on what happened in the prison later that he became aware the conditions you described should have been far more damaging. That is why he went back over your scans, and discovered the repaired injuries. He requested that I study the data and make a projection on the nanoprobes efficiency on your system as opposed to mine.”

“You should have told me,” Janeway repeated, anger a strong force rising within her.

Seven reached out and put her hand on Janeway’s shoulder comfortingly. “Kathryn, we thought you were aware of this. After all, you know better than anyone how badly you were beaten. Why did you not ask?”

Janeway forced herself to calm down, feeling the pulse throb in her temples. She wondered why she hadn’t asked about the medical records, and then realized that perhaps deep down, she hadn’t wanted to. That she had already known on some level that she shouldn’t have survived most of those beatings, and didn’t really want to understand how she had been able to walk away from them. She told herself that they hadn’t been that bad, but as she forced herself to recall that time, she remembered the sickening sensation of bones snapping under alien fists, of burning pain inside that would subside after a few hours. Even her wrist and ribs, broken when Seven reached her, were already mostly healed by the time she was beamed up to Voyager only a day or so later. The heat of her anger suddenly went cold, and she swallowed hard, a bit dizzy at the implications as she felt Seven reaching over to embrace her, concern etching the Borg’s narrow features.

“Kathryn,” she said softly as she wrapped her arms around her, “without them, you would have died, and I would have lost you. The nanoprobes saved you. They have frequently saved me. They are a tool, nothing more.”

Janeway hugged her back, still trying to assimilate the knowledge that she had acquired a certain type of invulnerability, and what exactly it meant for the future. But she also knew that this was something she shouldn’tt try to deal with at the moment. Her partner needed reassurance and love; certainly not any indication of revulsion or horror on her part. Janeway brushed her lips over the Borg’s chin.

“I know, darling,” she promised gently. “After all, they’re a part of you. I guess I should count myself fortunate they’re a part of me.”

Even if she had to look at her reflection in the mirror every morning to make sure a new implant hadn’t erupted sometime during the previous night.

0400 Hours

Seven eyed her partner worriedly. She could tell that the news had rocked Janeway and wished she had utilized a different way of telling her. A kinder, gentler way. If only she could be sure of what Janeway knew and what she didn’t. When she assumed Kathryn was ignorant of certain things, the captain quickly revealed she was fully cognizant of what Seven was referring to … and look annoyed that Seven would presume she did not. Yet at other times, when Seven was certain Janeway would know what she was talking about, she would gradually become aware of the puzzlement in the blue-grey eyes and a sick sensation would fill her.

Sometimes it was more difficult than at others to deal with Janeway’s memory loss. Though, Seven noted to herself, this was not a case of memory loss. This was more a case of the Doctor and the Borg making assumptions about what the captain did and didn’t know.

Seven promised herself that she wouldn’t do that any longer. Even if Janeway grew short tempered when the Borg elaborated when it wasn’t needed, she would still make sure Kathryn understood completely what she was saying … at all times.

“Kathryn, it is hard sometimes for me to know what you remember. I am sorry for that, and for making assumptions that I should not.”

Janeway sighed and patted her hand. “It’s not your fault, Annika. I know my need to be in control causes me to make mistakes. This pride of mine sometimes forces me to pretend I’m a lot more comfortable with my loss of memory than I really am. I’m counting on you to stand your ground and not let me be so foolish.”

“I will comply,” Seven said gravely. She glanced at Janeway in time to see her glancing back at her and was warmed when the captain suddenly smiled.

“I know I’m hard to live with sometimes. Thank you for putting up with it.”

Seven put her arm around the slender shoulders, pulling the compact body close. “It is worth it.” She kissed her spouse gently on the temple. “I shall always do my best to look out for you, Kathryn.”

Janeway was silent for a moment. “It won’t be easy,” she said finally, choosing her words with difficulty. “I’ll rarely be grateful, or even gracious about it, but you’re the only one I can count on to do this. You are the only one I can allow to take care of me.”

“It is a duty I officially accepted with joy the day we were married. Certainly, it is one I always assumed from the moment I fell in love with you.”

Janeway hugged her tightly and kissed the Borg’s cheek. “I really needed tonight. Thank you for staying up with me.”

“Are you feeling any better?” Seven asked anxiously.

Janeway nodded. “Yes, I am. I still feel very bad about Wallace and Jona, but I realize it was a horrible tragedy that was no one’s fault, nor could I have done anything to prevent it.” She hesitated. “And I’m so glad it wasn’t you. Every day I spend with you, I’m going to treat like a gift, precious and new. That doesn’t mean that I can’t care just as strongly for my crew as I always have, just that I have my priorities straight when it comes to our marriage. I have to realize that some things must transcend duty and responsibility.”

Seven was considerably surprised that they had managed to accomplish so much in such a short span of one evening … she had anticipated this taking days just as Janeway’s depressions did … but she was certainly not going to argue with success. She would merely be glad, and appreciative of the relaxed way Janeway was now settling against her. Seven noticed that her partner did not seem very tired; instead Janeway seemed quietly energized, just as she would be on the bridge in the middle of a battle watch, or waiting for a spatial phenomena to develop after having pulled a double shift, drawing on some unseen pool of stamina and deeply internal resource that never failed to impress and amaze Seven. The Borg leaned over and nuzzled the captain’s ear, kissing it gently.

“I was concerned in the beginning that I would not be able to help you.”

“You were an incredible help, my darling, and tonight has done me a world of good. I’ve never tried talking about the things that bother me. I’ve always tried to handle them myself … I guess I considered it a weakness to indicate I wasn’t in control or that I might need something or someone. Now, at 43, I’m begining to think that just maybe, if I get old enough, I’ll eventually become an adult rather than what I think an adult should be.”

“I love you the way you are, Kathryn.” Janeway turned to her, an expression of pleased shyness crossing her features and Seven reached out, running her fingertips along the elegant cheek. “So much,” she added as she leaned over and kissed her gently; lovingly, trying to show her how much she cared, how much she completely adored her, attempting through this physical connection to convey what limited words seem to fail at so often.

It seemed she succeeded. When they finally parted, Janeway looked up at her with marvelous blue eyes filled with a glow of warmth and happiness. “Mmm, as much as I enjoyed talking with you, my darling,” she said wryly, “I think I like these non-verbal communications far more.”

Seven smiled slightly. “I believe I do as well,” she said and kissed her again. “Do you want to go to bed?”

Janeway eyed her briefly. “Darling, it’s too late to try to get any sleep before morning watch,” she murmured, drawing her hand down Seven’s cheek lovingly. “We’d only end up more tired than when we started.” She paused and favored Seven with a sensual look. “But if you have something else in mind …”

Seven brushed her lips over the captain’s. “I do.”

“Hmm, you know what I’d really like?” Janeway said as Seven pulled her up from the floor, the Borg’s hands grasping her wrists gently. “Let’s have a shower first. I still feel grungy from yesterday.”

Holding hands, they wandered into the ensuite where Seven tugged at Kathryn’s pyjama top, peeling it off over her head. The captain slipped out of the bottoms as Seven took off her robe, hanging it neatly on the hook. Kathryn programmed in a temperate shower, and together, they stepped under the warm sprays that erupted from the three separate jets. Seven appropriated a sponge from the compartment containing the shower supplies, retrieved some soap from the dispenser and began to lather her partner’s back. She admired the elegant line of it, the defined spine that bisected the firm musculature as she drew the textured cloth firmly along the silky flesh, scrubbing the skin as Kathryn sighed with luxurious pleasure.

The captain was leaning against the wall, her palms flat against it, head bowed with her eyes closed, and Seven did not have to look to know Kathryn was smiling faintly. While the captain did not share Seven’s adoration for having her back scratched, she did have a great fondness for having it washed, and the Borg was more than willing to accommodate her in this. Seven ran the cloth briskly up and down until the skin was pink, then let the warm water wash the suds away, the foamy, skin-moistening lather slipping down over the curve of buttocks, and down the back of the thinly muscled legs to the drain. Seven followed their path with an aesthetically appreciative eye, and acquired some more soap from the dispenser, trading the sponge for a softer cloth.

She began to lather the captain’s arms and shoulders, enjoying how the heat and moisture made the skin seem to glisten with a warm glow, swirling the cloth over the flesh with a gentle motion that made the captain sigh once more as she straightened, throwing her head back. Seven moved closer to her, feeling the smaller body press wetly against her own as she increased the circumference of the circles, slipping down the slope of Kathryn’s chest, moving over the firm little breasts, then down between them to the soft swell of abdomen. Seven could feel Kathryn’s buttocks flex against her thighs, and she felt desire rise within her yet she did not become carnal with her task, did not linger overlong on those areas where she knew Kathryn was most erotically sensitive. Instead, she merely soaped the captain all over as Kathryn moved against her, then helped her rinse off, moving with her beneath the cascade of warm water.

When she was finished, Kathryn turned to her, taking the washcloth from Seven’s hand. “My turn,” she said huskily, looking up at her with soft blue eyes.

Seven gladly relinquished her possession of the fabric and raised her head, closing her eyes as she felt her partner move over her with the same care and loving attention she had given her. Kathryn did not linger at those places that offered Seven the most pleasure either, but the Borg’s nipples still hardened as the captain passed over them, still felt a sensual thrill thread through her as Kathryn gently drew the cloth between her legs.

It was a game, Seven decided. They were both aware that this was arousing, knew exactly how it was going to end but for now, they contented themselves with the simple indulgence of soap and water rather than directly address the anticipation rising between them. Seven smiled, her lips drawing freely back over her teeth as Kathryn tossed the cloth back on the rack.

The captain smiled back at her. “Will you wash my hair?”

Seven dispensed some shampoo into her cupped palm, waiting until Kathryn had fully immersed her head beneath the nearest spray before she moved behind her once more, plunging both hands into the auburn locks with a distinct sort of joyful abandon.

Kathryn murmured soft sounds of inarticulate pleasure as Seven thoroughly massaged her scalp with strong fingers, moving them over and through the soft strands of hair. It was a sharing on both their parts; one being indulged, the other enjoying the tactile sensation of hair and skin as she provided the indulgence. When Seven finally nudged Kathryn over to the nearest nozzle, rinsing the shampoo from her head, the captain was completely relaxed from the soothing stimuli. Once her hair lay slick and tight to her skull, Kathryn turned and drew Seven’s head down, the taller woman having to bend as the captain reciprocated the gift her partner had bestowed.

Seven tremendously enjoyed the feel of the captain’s fingers on her skull, the way the fingertips swirled and prodded, stroking through the long, blonde strands of fine hair. She was almost saddened when Janeway finally guided her beneath the spray to wash out the thick shampoo, leaving her hair draped over her neck and down her back like a golden hood.

The Borg blinked the droplets from her eyes and looked down into the face of her partner, loving her utterly, basking in the sensual embrace as Kathryn wrapped her arms around her neck and pressed her body full length against hers. Seven kissed her, tasting water and a trace of soap and the unique, delicious, wonderfully absorbing flavor of her partner.

“Do you want to stay here?” Seven murmured quietly when they parted, the spray splashing steadily over them. “Or shall we dry off and go to bed?”

“Oh dear,” Kathryn replied in her deep, smokey trill. “Such a decision. Why don’t you kiss me while I try to make up my mind?”

Seven smiled and did so, pulling the captain closer to her. Janeway slid against her wantonly, her body a slippery, sleek heat in her arms. Cupping the firm buttocks, Seven lifted the smaller woman into the air, unsurprised when Kathryn immediately wrapped her legs around her hips, the moist center pressing against the Borg’s belly. Seven eased them over to the bulkhead, resting the captain against the shower wall that helped the Borg steady and bear her weight. Seven tried to figure out the logistics as she occupied Kathryn with kisses, long, slow, openly sensual, tasting and teasing her with loving passion. She delighted in the touch of the smaller woman’s tongue against hers, the way the elegant hands moved over her shoulders and back as she slipped her left arm under Kathryn’s buttocks so that the captain was completely supported by the Borg enhanced forearm.

Seven wormed her right hand between their bodies, covering the captain’s breast, feeling the nipple jab into her palm and she squeezed the soft weight gently, enjoying the sensation of it against her hand.

Kathryn laughed throatily. “Can you manage this, love?” she murmured between the deep kisses. “I’m no lightweight.”

“Just keep your legs around my waist,” Seven instructed huskily.

“Will do,” Kathryn muttered before kissing her again, and the Borg palmed the breast firmly, concentrating on not dropping her spouse.

Playing with the slippery nipple, Seven fondled it between her fingers, the soft flesh hardening into a firm little knot. She felt a viscous moisture against her belly that she knew was not due to the shower. Inhaling deeply, she tried to determine how long she could hold this position before deciding she wouldn’t have to maintain it for long if she could just position her hand into the proper place.

“Oh god, Annika,” Kathryn breathed hotly in her ear as Seven managed to slip her fingers between the captain’s legs, rubbing against the moist flesh, seeking out the tender ridge that made the captain lurch against her when she touched it. “That feels so good … oh darling … please don’t stop…”

“I will not,” Seven promised quietly, feeling her shoulder muscles tense, trembling slightly.

Seven shifted her weight a little and lifted Kathryn higher, allowing two fingers to find the slick opening where they slipped easily inside. Kathryn made a sound, high pitched, a keen of pleasure and Seven felt the tight walls close around her fingers. She pushed deeper, inciting another moan and felt herself start to weaken. She decided that Borg strength was brute rather than one of endurance and she knew she should finish this quickly. She curled her fingers upward, finding that smooth little place and managed to bring her thumb into play over the captain’s nodule. Kathryn’s response was immediate, jerking against her, her fingertips digging into Seven’s back as she tried to hang on. The Borg was hard pressed to hold her in place as the spasms overtook the captain, and she winced as Kathryn’s head abruptly thudded into the shower wall. Her lover did not seem to notice any discomfort, gasping as the sensation shook her, a long, drawnout groan of utter pleasure erupting from her throat as she clung to Seven desperately.

Her thighs gradually slipped off the Borg’s hips, sliding down to the floor along Seven’s legs though the young woman still had to support her until the captain had managed to regain her bearings … and her feet.

“Are you all right?” Seven whispered, holding her close.

“I’m seeing stars,” Kathryn laughed shakily.

“That may be from the blow to your head,” Seven noted with concern. “Shall I contact the Doctor?”

“Oh no,” Kathryn objected, looking up at her with amusement. “He’s been in this bathroom far too much lately. Besides, they weren’t those sort of stars.”

“Ah,” Seven said and smiled as she felt Kathryn’s hands move over her body. “I think we should dry off. I sincerely doubt you can provide the same sort of positioning for me.”

Kathryn nipped her earlobe. “There are other ways to pleasure you in the shower, my darling, but let’s save them for another time. The bed sounds really good right now for what I want to do with you.”

0500 Hours

Janeway brushed the towel lightly over the lean, golden form of her spouse, soaking up the droplets of water that slipped delightfully down the smooth, firm skin, pausing to press her lips against the warm bone of Seven’s chest, kissing it gently. She was still feeling a bit weak from the shower, but wonderfully aroused, wanting nothing more than to take her partner to bed, and show her how much she utterly desired and wanted her.

She caught a glimpse of their reflection in the mirror over the sink and she paused briefly, admiring the trim, sinuous body of her partner before Seven chose to step around her, slipping her arms about the captain’s waist, hugging her from behind. The Borg covered Janeway’s breast with her left hand, chaffing the nipple with the flesh of her palm between the metal fibers of her manipulative implant and she kissed the captain’s neck, nipping at it gently.

“Do you like what you see?” Seven asked with quiet humor as she caught Janeway’s gaze in her own. She cupped the captain’s breast as if offering it to her reflection, the silver mesh a marked contrast to the warm skin still flushed pink from the water and steam.

“Very much so,” Janeway murmured throatily, reaching up to put her fingertips against the younger woman’s cheek. She looked into her partner’s eyes through the mirror, smiling as she saw the passion in the ice blue orbs, the arousal in her lover’s level gaze. Then she gasped as she both saw and felt Seven’s right hand slide down over her stomach, tangling in the rich auburn thatch of hair.

“I thought it was my turn,” the captain protested huskily.

“Eventually,” Seven promised and kissed her ear, running her tongue along the curve of it.

Mesmerized, Janeway stared at the mirror as the Borg dipped lower, the long fingers fondling her with tantalizing slowness. Swallowing hard, she saw how they began to glisten from the wetness, serving to heighten her excitement, producing yet more moisture.

“Oh, heavens, Annika,” she whispered, feeling the sensation shiver through her, her thighs trembling, her legs growing weak.

She moaned as Seven penetrated her, her eyes pinned on the fingers slipping into her, then withdrawing. The slow steady thrusting was incredibly erotic, more of their length taken with every stroke. Groaning, Janeway spread her legs wider, leaning back against her lover who she knew with absolute surety would support her. It was oddly stimulating; on one level being somewhat detached, watching this as if it were an illicit entertainment program on a viewscreen, yet at the same time, so intimately involved, the pleasure of those fingers very immediate, filling her. She gasped, the delight spreading within her, and before very long, she felt the familiar surge go through her, her knees turning to jelly as she peaked, only the firm arm of Seven preventing her total collapse on the floor.

She fought for breath as the Borg set her back on her feet. Leaning forward, Janeway braced herself weakly on the sink counter. Her left fingers fell naturally into the indentations that had been imprinted in the duranium alloy, though the depressions were a little larger, and suddenly the mystery of what they were exactly and how they had gotten there was suddenly solved.

She laughed huskily and glanced back at Seven who was stroking Janeway’s back and spine with sensual fingertips. “I believe this isn’t the first time we’ve made love in front of this mirro.”

Seven followed her glance to the indentations and smiled faintly. “No, it is not. For some reason, I find it far more stimulating than when we had a mirror above our bed. Perhaps because that became commonplace.”

“Are you saying we should be more adventurous in our love life?” Janeway asked, turning around to surrender willingly to the loving embrace.

“Merely something I have been researching since our honeymoon,” Seven said softly and kissed her. “It is a fascinating topic.”

Janeway ran her hands lightly over the young woman’s torso, stroking gently with her fingertips in the manner she knew Seven enjoyed. “Is it my turn yet?”.

Seven’s respiration had deepened, her eyes smoldering as she looked at Janeway. “I believe so.”

Janeway kissed her, lingering on the full mouth, tracing the bottom lip with her tongue. “Would you be terribly disappointed if I chose an old fashioned method?” she muttered playfully. “On your back, in the bed?”

“That would depend on what I would be doing on my back in the bed,” Seven responded evenly as Janeway drew away, taking her hand to lead her into the bedroom. They terminated the lights as they left the ensuite, entering the dim illumination of starlight through the window above the bed’s headboard.

“Smiling,” Janeway promised huskily, drawing down the rumpled blankets to leave the crisp, Starfleet issued linens exposed.

“Then I shall be glad to lie on my back in the bed,” Seven replied promptly, crawling onto the queen-sized mattress, plumping up the pillows and arranging them so she could recline against them.

Janeway watched, a wry grin on her face, her hands on her hips as Seven made all her preparations. “Are you done?”

Seven blinked at her, lounging on her elbows. “Yes.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to rush you.”

“Come here,” Seven demanded in an imperious tone, raising her chin arrogantly.

Janeway laughed and let her partner catch her hand, drawing her down onto the bed where she wrapped her arms around the lanky torso, finding the full lips and kissing her passionately. Then they rolled over and Janeway felt herself being pressed back against the mattress, Seven pinning her as she began kissing her way down the captain’s body.

“Hey,” Janeway objected. “It’s supposed to be my turn.” Though it was hard to protest as she felt that wonderful mouth on her breasts, nibbling and licking her nipples befroe trailing down over her belly where the hot breath stirred the thin hair on her pelvis, making her quiver.

Obligingly, Seven turned around.

Janeway raised an eyebrow as she helped Seven position her knees on either side of her head. “This is the way you prefer? Not on your back?”

“This is much better,” Seven told her and lowered her face between the captain’s legs.

Kathryn gasped as she felt the mobile lips and skilled tongue seek out her intimate flesh, Seven’s breasts pressing down on her stomach with delicious pressure. A pressure that could become remarkably heavy remarkably quickly if Seven forgot where she was; something she did whenever they pleasured each other in this manner.

“Wait,” Janeway instructed. “Roll over.”

Seconds later, Janeway was looking down at the blonde thatch, keenly aware that Seven had managed the entire maneuver without ever losing contact with her mouth. The captain caught her breath, arching as her lover tasted her, consuming her with avid appetite.

“You never wait for me when we do this,” Janeway complained mildly, and put her hands on the inside of Seven’s thighs, parting them to reveal the intimate flesh of her lover. She smiled briefly as she lowered her face to where Seven waited; warm, wet, and very willing.

Not to mention, exceptionally ready. Apparently all the action in the shower as well as in front of the ensuite mirror had aroused the young woman to a fever pitch, and she climaxed within seconds of Kathryn putting her tongue to the hard little nodule. Janeway drove her partner through it and continued on, using her lips to draw out the Borg’s pleasure, and begin the ascent once more. The sensation of Seven’s mouth on her was wonderful, but Janeway’s edge had been dulled earlier and she was easily able to stave off the rising passion to send her lover over the edge one more time. A third time, Janeway began to pleasure her lover, slower, hotter, bringing her fingers to dip into the wet heat, then further down to circle insistently at the puckered opening as she swirled her tongue over Seven, knowing how much her lover liked this.

Seven tore her mouth away from Janeway, crying out briefly. “Oh, Kathryn,” she moaned, arching as the captain tenderly prodded this most intimate of places.

“Join me, darling,” Janeway murmured, drawing her mouth away briefly. “Let’s try to make it together.”

Immediately the captain felt the lovely mouth return to her once more, and she allowed the sensation rippling through her free rein this time, feeling the chills shiver through her even as she eased her fingertip into Seven so very gently, sliding two more into the other orifice as she sucked tenderly at the nubbin, gauging the rising pleasure in her lover, trying to match it with her own. It was not easy to time this right, but the attempt was immensely gratifying in itself. She shuddered as she felt Seven start to pulse around her fingers, her own desire sweeping her up, the ripples spreading through her from the sweet connection of Seven’s lips. Somehow, they both managed to stay with it despite the astounding sensation that shook them before Janeway collapsed on Seven, breathing heavily with the young woman’s unique flavor like a benediction upon her lips.

They lay for a moment, hugging each other tightly, and then Seven moved out from beneath Janeway, pulling up the bedding as she turned, wrapping it around the both of them where they settled into the center of the bed, curled up in lazy happiness.

“Annika, my heart,” she whispered as she felt Seven nuzzle her ear and she sought out her partner’s lips, kissing her deeply, tasting her own flavor on her lover’s mouth. She moaned softly, snuggling into the strong arms of her spouse. “You were absolutely wonderful.”

Seven kissed her again. “No more than you. Are you tired?”

“Mmm,” Janeway murmured. “A little. What time is it?”

“Time enough for a nap,” Seven said persuasively, in a soft voice. Janeway had a brief suspicion that there was something wrong with that, but she had lost track of the passing hours much earlier and she relaxed gratefully in the warmth of the tender embrace.

“Wake me at 0600,” she whispered, feeling sleep creep over her irresistibly

Seven brushed her lips over her forehead. “Sleep, Kathryn,” she said commandingly. “I will be here for you.”

Janeway smiled. “You always are, my darling,” she said softly and let herself drift off, safe and secure in the loving arms.

“You always are.”

0600 Hours (Dawn)

There was a small control panel set near the head of the bed on the wall just over the nightstand. It could be used to manually override commands that would otherwise be given verbally. Seven carefully reached up and touched it, disabling the computer wake up call. Then she sent a priority memo to the bridge that she and the captain would be unavailable for the rest of the day. She knew that the crew would suspect that Janeway was ‘hiding’ because of the previous days events so as not to impose her bad mood on them … for which they would be suitably grateful. She, on the other hand, would be content that her spouse would be getting some much needed rest, and if Kathryn was angry at her afterward … well, that was part and parcel of being married to her. Seven would find a way to explain it so that the captain understood her getting some sleep was the best thing for the ship.

She would take care of Kathryn. The captain’s resistance to that idea was … futile.

Seven smiled faintly as she looked down at the relaxed planes of her lover’s features. The lines had smoothed out, the shadows of stress removed, the strain of the past erased, granting harmony and an aching youthfulness to a face that all too often had to restrict itself to an impassive command mask. The whisper of Kathryn’s breath from the elegantly sculpted nose was steady and regular, brushing over Seven’s chest where the captain’s head lay. Janeway’s eyelids were still, no dreams plaguing her sleep and just a trace of a smile curved the wine shaded lips. The auburn hair fell soft across the smooth forehead, spreading around her head like an aura, her right hand, curled slightly, resting next to her face, just above Seven’s heart.

Kathryn had managed to construct a sort of balance within herself finally and Seven was satisfied with the knowledge that she had been instrumental in helping her beloved with that difficult task. Carefully, she drew the compact body closer and closed her eyes, the last thing in her vision being the soothing and wonderful sight of her partner resting comfortably.

For now, at complete peace with herself and the universe.

The End

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