PAIRING: 7/C
RATING: PG
WARNINGS: some coarse language
A/N: Originally when Jeri Ryan auditioned for the role of Seven of Nine, there was a scene in which Chakotay tries to help the former drone remember laughter. We don't know much about that script, other than it being cut from whatever episode it was supposed to be in. So I decided to play around with that idea. Takes place shortly after the episode; Day of Honor.
DISCLAIMER: Star Trek: Voyager is strictly the property of Gene Roddenberry and Paramount Pictures. This fanfic is strictly for entertainment purposes only and no profit is being gained.
"Me?" Chakotay looked uncertainly at his superior officer, his racing mind bombarded with objections at the mere notion that had just presented its self.
"You said it yourself; she mentioned having some difficulty adapting to being alone. Why not take her for a tour, show her what our group has to offer?" The Captain retorted evenly.
The first officer's expression conveyed his unspoken doubts. No words needed to be articulated for the Captain to understand what he was thinking.
"You're still wary of her," Leaning against the corner of her desk with crossed arms, Janeway pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I can't say that I blame you. Last time she had direct access to the ship's systems without supervision, we ended up half-way across the galaxy in fluidic space, but it's different this time. You would be monitoring her actions." The Commander stayed silent, and Janeway observed him contemplatively. "You've been linked with drones who had been freed from the collective before; you must be able to relate. You know how they think, how they act-"
"Those were different circumstances, Kathryn." Chakotay refuted.
"Besides," she continued. "Isolating her from the crew like a disobedient child on time-out isn't going to improve the situation. She has to learn to socialize outside of Engineering. Seven of Nine has had multiple chances to betray us, surely she would have done so by now. If yesterday's actions with the Khatati have proven anything, it's that she wants to do well by us. There's more to that young lady than the implants marring her flesh. Her humanity is there, Chakotay... we just have to reach it."
"I understand that," Chakotay sighed. "but instinct can often be overwhelming. Even a well trained dog can snap."
"No dog snaps without reason," The Captain reasoned. "But I can organize a security team to escort you if it'll make you feel better."
"That won't be necessary." The Commander replied, turning to the ready-room doors . "I'm sure I can handle her."
"It also might do some good to get her out of Engineering for a bit before she and B'Elanna come to blows." Janeway added as a footnote with the hint of a smirk.
"Let's hope it never comes to that."
"Vorik, replace the anti-matter injector coils. The damn things are fused!" Lieutenant Torres' authoritative voice shouted across Engineering as the warp core was gradually being reinitialized.
"Yes, Lieutenant," came the collected response from the Vulcan.
"The sooner we get this thing up and running again, the sooner we can get the hell out of here at a reasonable pace." The Klingon muttered in growing agitation. Then, from the corner of her eye, she noticed the former drone at an unauthorized console which was otherwise unoccupied.
"What are you doing?" The Chief asked irritably as she stormed over, hand planted firmly on her hip.
"The deflector array is out of alignment by point three degrees. I am attempting to readjust it." the Borg replied coolly.
It was in that moment Chakotay chose to enter, just in time to defuse the beginning of an argument.
"That wasn't your assignment!" B'Elanna spat hotly.
"Your anger is unwarranted, I was merely trying to right an error before it became problematic."
"Is there a problem, ladies?" The Commander interjected as he closed in on the quarreling pair. Both stopped and turned their attention to the intruder.
"Chakotay," B'Elanna began sharply. "My patience is really beginning to wear thin. The drone and her... arrogant, rebellious tendencies are really starting to get under my skin! When you first assigned her to Engineering, I bit my tongue-"
"Really? Because that's not how I remember it..."
"-But not anymore!" She continued as if he hadn't spoken. "Please... do something with her, because I'm not sure how much more of her I can tolerate, and I will not be held accountable for my actions!"
The seething Chief Engineer vaguely reminded Chakotay of a whistling tea pot whose steam was about to blow off its top. For her part, Seven remained stoically calm, all but for a metallic encased eyebrow arched in bemusement.
"Seven, why don't you come with me." Gently leading her by the arm, the Commander guided her out of Engineering and down the corridor.
"Have I done something wrong, Commander?" she asked uncertainly after a moment.
"Well, that's debatable... you seem to have a knack for instigating my Chief Engineer."
"It was not deliberate-"
"I know it wasn't, but your... etiquette... could use a little work. People tend to respond better with a more subtle approach, apposed to an aggressive one. It's typically considered polite to ask permission before assuming a role. But you're not in trouble with me, Seven. I just happened to show up at the right place at the wrong time- or the right time, depending on how you look at it."
"Lieutenant Torres appears to be prone to volatile outbursts of anger," The former drone mused. "Are all individuals so easily provoked?"
Chakotay could not help but smile. "Not so easily as B'Elanna. It's the Klingon blood, I think. Not a species you want to get on the bad side of."
"Klingon, species five-zero-zero-eight. A combative, tradition-bound culture whom put the utmost importance in family honor. Extremely territorial."
"That sounds about right."
"I've noticed, even among humans, that females tend to become very competitive in nature with one another in a group setting."
"That might be true, for some women, at least... but not all." The Commander began. "Growing up, I remember my mom and my grandmother used to butt heads on a regular basis. Every family reunion, every holiday, every time we went on vacation together- it was always the same. Arguing about how my sister and I should be raised in accordance with old traditions, to something so insignificant as how dinner should be prepared. My father would often joke that having two head-strong women under the same roof was a bad idea."
"Yes... I have concluded that this is a primal reaction based upon centuries of evolution in securing a position of dominance within a group hierarchy, and thereby attracting a superior mate."
An amused chortle escaped the Commander's lips then, white teeth flashing between pale, quirked lips. Seven had just described them as though she were referring to a pack of wolves she had been studying. How ironic that only moments before, he and Janeway had been using dog related metaphors to describe the drone's own situation. The sound seemed to surprise Seven, and she regarded him intently.
"A curious sound."
"I'm sorry, Seven," he said, fighting against his mirth. "It's a laugh- an expression of amusement." he explained as her eyebrows furrowed.
"I had not realized I said something to elicit amusement."
"It may not have been your intent, but that was funny. Humor is often unintentional. For example; don't you hate rhetorical questions?"
The former drone's brow furrowed further as she stared blankly at him.
"You know, because the question, its self, is ironic..." his face fell. "How about this one; I bet I could quit gambling."
He did not receive the response he was hoping for.
"Addiction hardly seems like a joking matter, Commander."
"Maybe not... " he sighed in defeat. "Tom Paris is better at these than I am. Can't you... ever recall laughing before you were assimilated?"
With a frown, Seven took on a thoughtful manner as she tried to recall her buried past. "No." she finally replied.
"You don't remember anything that would have provoked laughter at all?" Chakotay pressed on. "A joke, a game with your friends, a silly song?"
He seemed greatly troubled by this realization and the former Borg could not fully understand why.
"Is that... bad?" She asked uncertainly. There it was, the hint of vulnerability in her voice that she normally concealed.
He gazed upon her sympathetically and sighed. "No... it's just kind of sad."
They fell silent as they continued to walk, soon finding themselves entering the aeroponics bay, where the scent of herbs and various forms of flora ensnared their senses.
"Mmm... smell that? I'd say the chamomile is just about ready."
"Ready?" Seven questioned. "For what?"
"To make tea. Great remedy for insomnia, by the way. Helps me sleep at night. There are other health benefits in drinking chamomile too- it alleviates anxiety, upset stomach, and can even be used to treat burns and scrapes if you don't have a doctor on hand. Hmm..." Chakotay mused as an afterthought. "You know, you might find aeroponics to be a relaxing and pleasant environment to work in. Maybe you should take gardening into consideration."
Noticing some cilantro on the verge of wilting, the Commander entered a few key codes into the panel on the planter's side so that the irrigation system activated, sprinkling some water around the soil-covered roots.
"I believe it would be an inefficient use of my skills," Seven replied in dismissal, watching him. "My knowledge retained from the collective is vast but I know very little about tending to plants."
"Oh, it's not terribly hard. A bit of water, a bit of shade, just the right amount of artificial UVB rays and a little T.L.C. is all you really need. Here's an interesting fact; they respond to verbal stimuli."
"Explain."
"My people have always believed that there is a spirit in every living thing. As a boy, I didn't think much of it... I mistook my father's teachings as mere fables. But several studies have been conducted in the past and scientists have found that not only do plants grow faster when they're introduced to soothing music, they also tend to grow towards the direction the music's coming from. There's a sense of consciousness about them, Seven." Chakotay analyzed the plants passionately.
"An intriguing theory," the former Borg remarked. Her eyes scanned across the multitude of vegetables and plants, until they came to rest on a row of red flowers. She slowly approached the vessel holding them, and reached out her right hand to brush her fingers against the delicate petals. Were these simple forms of life aware of her presence? The Commander joined her and noticed the stern mask of concentration on her face.
"They're roses; perennials of the genus Rosa. They can also be used to make tea, but they're mostly just for show. Beautiful, aren't they?"
It took a moment for her to respond as she stared vividly at the blooming plants, as though lost in memory. Then suddenly, her head snapped up. "I remember..."
"Seven?" Chakotay asked in confusion.
"These flowers... my father's sister grew them in her garden, on Earth. In the middle of the grove there was a tree... with a swing attached to one of the branches . I remember playing on it. Papa would push me, and I would go up so high, my feet could almost touch the leaves. I was having so much fun, and I... couldn't stop laughing." She looked up at him then, the trance broken. "I- I remember laughter..."
"Well," Picking up a pair of preening clippers, the Commander carefully took a rose in hand and severed the stem at its base, before handing it to Seven. "I'd say we've hit a milestone."
The former drone hesitantly accepted the gift, though she looked at a loss. "When you severed my link to the collective... I was frightened. I was subjected to memories I otherwise had no recollection of and I could no longer hear the voices of the others. I felt... incomplete. However, I find myself growing accustomed to the silence, as well as free will. My thoughts are my own."
"That's right." Chakotay said.
"These emotions can become very conflicting at times. How does one know which to act upon?"
"The best advice I can really give to you in that regard is when in doubt, consider the consequences of your actions. There's an old saying on Earth; look before you leap. A lot of problems could be avoided if more people used their brains before acting on impulse. But if you're ever unsure, all you have to do is ask."
He grinned at her then, and he was rewarded as the corners of her mouth quirked in an attempt to imitate his smile. It was more of a smirk than a smile, but it was a step towards progress, and a leap closer to her humanity.