A/n: I do not own Star Trek: Voyager.

"Can I be of assistance Mr Neelix?"

Neelix jumped out of his skin, completing a precarious pirouette on the narrow step of his stepladder as he jerked towards the speaker. The hand straining towards the back wall of his pantry was hurriedly yanked back to grip the shelf for balance. "Seven!" he exclaimed exuberantly.

"I apologise for startling you…" Seven began with a self-conscious frown, worriedly reaching out to steady him.

"Nonsense!" Neelix repudiated firmly, clapping his hands on her shoulders as much as in reassurance and welcome as for balance. "I'm relieved to see you back safe and well! Quite a change of plans from attending a conference, but you certainly had an experience…"

"Yes." Seven confirmed with the ghost of a thoughtful smile. "We did." We? She started at her slip of the tongue. While she knew Chakotay would not argue that the experience with the Ventu had affected him, he'd likely say so with pride, she also knew that their time on the planet had proven his attitudes (predominately) correct, while hers had changed a great deal. She should not assume anything about what he'd drawn from it. Pushing these uneasy thoughts aside, she glanced up towards the shelves. "Can I be of assistance?" she repeated.

Neelix glanced up at the shelves, then down at his feet on their awkward perch, then finally at the tall ex-drone. "Well…yes, actually." He admitted with a smile, hopping down from the steps in relief. "Thank you."

"Of course." Seven replied, smoothly taking only on step up before easily reaching back. "What do you require?"

"Dried Leola root." Neelix answered, "The last of my fresh supply went into lunch's spinach and Leola ravioli and the next batch isn't ready to be harvested for another ten days or so. But the dish went down so well I need to be ready to serve it up again. Fresh is always preferable but…"

Seven hesitated, unsure whether the crew would thank her as readily as Neelix for providing him with Leola root, but she'd already located the container. "This ravioli variation proved popular?" She checked, unable to quite contain her eyebrow's rise, half sceptical and half amused, as she handed him his favourite ingredient.

"Oh yes!" Neelix enthused, then, with a wry dash of self-awareness, added, "Of course, the crew always eat more when they're worried. It's my job to provide them with fuel and a friendly ear. I had the Maquis all congregated in here earlier, strategizing how to get that barrier down over mugs of coffee and bowls of my ravioli…"

Seven winced. "I'm sorry they were left in such a position as to fear…"

Neelix gave her arm a gentle squeeze. "It's natural Seven." He reminded her. As integrated and familial as Voyager was now, the Maquis were still a clannish sort, and Chakotay was a Prince among them. Any threat to him led to anxious huddles around his tables. "And the whole crew was concerned, about both of you." He smiled kindly, "I'm sure the Maquis will be toasting your ability to bring down the shield, just after ribbing Chakotay for crashing another shuttle if I know them." He chuckled.

"Perhaps." Seven stepped down abruptly and retreated back. She couldn't imagine the Maquis celebrating her role in anything, though the resurgence of jokes about Chakotay's shuttle record, such a long-standing source of humour that even she was aware of it, was inevitable.

Neelix only gave his head the slightest of shakes before deftly changing the subject as he set the precious Leola root aside. "Now that you've helped me restock, let's see what I can rustle up for you, hmm?" He cast his usual mildly concerned, paternal eye over her slender frame. She looked tense and tired.

"I ate dinner with the Captain and Commander Chakotay." Seven informed him.

Neelix's split second grimace verged on comical, but he was too gracious to say anything about the Captain's cooking. "Well, a debriefing is always improved with a meal." He said diplomatically, "The Captain will have gone to special effort to see that you're both alright after almost losing you, but are you sure I can't interest you in a very late supper, or a midnight snack?"

"My nutritional intake has been sufficient…" She caught Neelix's eye, "I managed to intervene somewhat in the Captain's preparations." The Talaxian chuckled warmly and she echoed him with a quieter laugh of her own before sobering. "I did not come here intending to eat…I am having some difficulty regenerating."

Neelix nodded, at once understanding. "It can be a little difficult to readjust to Voyager after any time away." He cleared his throat, "Or at least it's that way for me." He glanced at Seven, concerned she'd prickle at the smallest implication she wasn't 'adapting', but she gave a simple nod of agreement. Unlike some, he'd never really had any expectation of how quickly she should adapt to Voyager. It likely helped that they'd never had reason for as much as a cross word, but he'd never let her general abrasiveness worry him. The rudeness that had been such a talking point that first year or so had always struck him as a defence mechanism. He thought too much of her intelligence to not see that at least part of it had been on purpose, an attempt to hold on to some sense of control and superiority by wrong-footing those around her, and the rest of it had likely been rooted in very human anger and resentment as much as Borg upbringing. Now that things had settled down, so much more shone through the barriers, and what had been a hard Borg shell was perhaps only a veil of human guilt, uncertainty and self-consciousness. But he'd never seen the point of pushing. She was due as long as she needed to find her feet after what she'd been through, in his humble opinion. Then again, Voyager made such demands of everyone… "Chakotay wouldn't agree with me on this…" He thought he saw Seven start slightly at the name, "…but I'll suggest the traditional human remedy of warm milk?" He saw her hesitate, rein in a grimace, and smiled, "Or maybe some chamomile tea?"

"I am not fond of either." Seven confided. As far as she could recall, she hadn't even liked milk much as a child, unless it was a strawberry milkshake, which was an entirely different proposition anyway. As for tea, she'd tried multiple varieties when she'd been matching beverages to meals she'd prepared, but she'd never reconciled her taste buds to chamomile. She wasn't even sure if its sleep assisting properties would have any effect on an ex-done struggling to regenerate. Neelix wouldn't bring up such a difference. "Though I appreciate the offer." She looked around the darkened and otherwise empty Mess Hall. "You were obviously preparing to retire to your quarters, you should…"

"It takes me a long time to wind down after any excitement." Neelix interrupted firmly, "So don't worry about me."

A short sigh escaped Seven's lips before she pursed them wearily. "It would appear that we have that trait in common." It would've been alien to the Collective, this tendency to ponder events that had concluded. Any occurrence was analysed for useful tactical information and then dismissed, only ever drawn on when required. It was efficient. It was clean. It was as impossible for her to do now as it would've been to consider unresolved emotion in the Hive Mind.

"Caring isn't a bad trait, the furthest thing from it!" Neelix pointed out with deceptive lightness, "Even if it means we hang on to worry longer than some would consider necessary." He shook his head, thoughts of Kes flashing through his memory, and realising at the same time that his worry over her wasn't nearly as prevalent as it once had been. He refocused on Seven, pulling out an encouraging smile for her. "Take a seat. I'll find something here that'll make us both go to bed, or to regenerate, happy."

Seven hesitated, but the conflict that passed over her face was brief; a small but warm smile slowly dawned as her head made its habitual dip. "As you wish."

"I do wish." The Talaxian reiterated, gently ushering her towards the nearest table before ducking eagerly back into the galley.

Seven sagged into the chair, but caught herself and soon perched more rigidly on the edge. Her elbow rested on the table though, and soon her chin was in her hand, the fingers occasionally moving to massage the constant dull ache around her brow, needling behind her eyes. She winced as she remembered the Doctor buzzing around her when she'd reported to Sickbay, carrying the medkit that had been beamed down. The Doctor had scanned her from 'top to toe' but they'd both known his immediate focus was on her cortical node, specifically the failsafe component within. She'd gathered from his sigh of relief that nothing was amiss, though the breath caught in her own throat as he'd run the scan had served as a pointed reminder that she'd worried it would be. Though Chakotay had only been on the next biobed, the Doctor had only been able to restraint his frustration enough to keep his petulant hisses about 'risk-taking' and 'unsanctioned away missions' by her ear. She'd never been more grateful that Chakotay was polite and would never eavesdrop, as well as having only average hearing. She didn't bother to remind him that he'd enthusiastically. pushed her to accept the unsolicited invitation to the conference. It had been wrong of her to omit that Chakotay had offered to take her. In her own defence, she hadn't known of that offer when she'd agreed to go. To rescind her agreement as soon as Chakotay had spoken up, smiling at her, would've been mortifying and exposing…

Yet really, all she'd been unequivocally thankful for in that moment was that the girl had not required treatment in Sickbay. That her injures had been minor enough to be successfully treated…by the hand that had inadvertently caused them. One of the central things this incident had brought home to her the importance of the Prime Directive. As much as she'd quoted it to Chakotay, she'd almost been ready to cast it off upon hearing the Ledosians' promises that the lives of the Ventu could be enhanced through assimilation into the planet's dominant culture. She shuddered. If the girl, or any of the Ventu, had been exposed to wider Ledos or Voyager, they would've lost something. As bright and curious and full of potential as they were, it would've been too much to process without damage. If anyone knew about the impossibility of totally reintegrating with your own society after being abruptly disconnected from it, it was a former Borg drone.

A former Borg drone who could've easily had more blood on her hands if that guileless girl hadn't been lucky, and could still if the Ledosians had scanned the deflector… She tried to cut the thought off. They'd had to get back to Voyager…get home. With the Captain and Tom's help, they'd managed to preserve the Ventu's home as much as they could. Chakotay had been right, not just consoling her.

"I heard you made a friend down there." Neelix had popped back up from behind the galley counter. "It must've been hard to say goodbye."

Seven looked across at him, smiling faintly. If assimilation hadn't proved that Talaxians did not possess empathic ability that was beyond the average in sentient humanoids, humans included, she would've attributed it to Neelix. She still did. "Yes, she was my friend." She hadn't known her name, and had had so little in common, but she had undoubtedly been a friend all the same. "Leaving was…bittersweet." She conceded thoughtfully, not missing how Neelix's expressive amber eyes widened in surprise at the admission. "The Ventu group we encountered were remarkable. I am relieved we were able to reinstate the shield."

"Yes…" Neelix agreed with a slight grimace. "It doesn't seem like they would've appreciated their neighbours like you did. They turned on us quickly enough when things didn't go their way."

"Indeed."

"But I'm sure there would've been a few voices of reason." Neelix amended, never willing to believe the worst. "Ledosians who would see what you and Chakotay saw, a people and an environment to be treasured." He smiled wistfully, but it was rapidly tinged with regret. "Although it seems, more often than not, that people don't see what they have until it's gone."

"I believe you're right." Seven replied sombrely.

"Speaking of what's gone…it seems to include most of my dessert supply…" Neelix began in a vexed tone, glaring into his nearly bare cupboards.

"Really Neelix, it…"

"Don't even think about saying it's irrelevant Seven." He cut her off, only half teasing. "I promised us a treat while we chat…" His whiskers started to wilt in disappointment, but suddenly his eyes lit up and he plunged an arm into his small chilled cabinet. "Aha!"

Seven muffled a chuckle behind her hand. "Yes, Neelix?"

"I completely forgot that I'd made this!" Neelix exclaimed, seemingly astounded. "And I put so much effort into getting it right too! You see, Crewman Chan was saying how the replicator never gets it quite right, so I…"

"And what is this exactly?" Seven interrupted.

"Pudding!" Neelix answered with a bright grin, coming out from behind the counter with his precious cargo and reverently setting the two large glass dishes onto her table with an exuberant flourish. "Would you like chocolate, butterscotch or a serving of each?"

"I have never tasted pudding." Seven admitted as she eyed each dish. It had obviously been scooped out into smaller servings for the crew at some point, but of the chocolate batch around a quarter remained, of the butterscotch a third. She must've glanced at a recipe at some point however, since she could recall the ingredients: sugar, milk and a thickening agent of gelatine, corn-starch or eggs among others. Too simple for her culinary efforts, but nothing offensive. "But now you have provided me with the opportunity."

Neelix beamed at her. "I'll get us some spoons." He bounced back to the galley to snatch up some spoons and pressed one into her hand. "Which first?"

"Chocolate." Seven decided swiftly. She knew her palette was still somewhat childish, chocolate was second only to strawberry. She was somewhat averse to eating out of a communal bowl, but dismissed the delicacy under Neelix's expectant gaze.

Neelix started to brim with pride as she took a big bite, but soon deflated as disgust flashed over Seven's features. She was undoubtedly skilled at suppressing her reactions, to anything, but it was his job to read when someone disliked something. The puckering brows, the churning tongue, the gag reflex then rapid gulp… It was obvious. "What is it? Maybe you'd prefer butterscotch…" He hurriedly pushed the second dish towards her.

"It's not the flavour…" Seven forced out, holding the dish away from her despite Neelix's efforts and dropping the spoon decidedly. A blush crept up her cheeks as Neelix obligingly handed her a glass of water, and she shot him a chastened and grateful glance from under her lashes as she took a long swig. So much for taste being irrelevant. No, it wasn't the taste; that was appropriately chocolate based… "I think it's the…"

"Texture?" A warm voice supplied helpfully, though with a distinct note of amusement. Seven jumped, her head snapping around to see Chakotay, the doors just closing behind him. His small smile became subtly sheepish at Seven's start, but soon shifted to a definite grimace as he eyed the pudding. "¡Asqueroso!" he muttered, then glanced apologetically at the Talaxian chef. "Sorry Neelix, I'm sure your version is as good as it can be…"

Neelix just chuckled in response. "No offence taken Commander, you did let me know early on..." He caught his eye teasingly, "…almost as soon as I opened the galley in fact, that your two dislikes were carrots and pudding." He chuckled again, "It just seems that your latest Away Team member agrees with you."

"Yes." Seven confirmed quietly, inclining her head towards Chakotay. "I think the texture is the issue. However, I must diverge from his opinion of carrots." She directed her words towards Neelix, but in spite of the awkwardness that had flooded her on his unexpected arrival, she couldn't resist quirking a brow in Chakotay's direction.

He responded with a languid smile, dark eyes glinting. "Really, Seven?" he questioned, playfully disappointed.

"Yes, really." She straightened in her chair, finally looking fully over her shoulder at him. "They are a versatile vegetable."

"Say that five times fast."

Seven stared at him blankly. "Why would…"

"It's a saying Seven."

"A game?" Seven guessed, reading the mischief in his expression. Similar to the 'tongue twisters' Naomi loved. "I would win." She told him told coyly, "But I am not going to play."

Chakotay returned her smirk as he approached the table. Seven noted with relief that his so recently fractured ankle no longer seemed to be causing pain or hindrance. The combination of the Ventu and the Doctor's care had served him well. "You're not going to be one of those people who asks me 'How can you be a vegetarian and not like carrots?' are you? Because I always give the same unimaginative answer, I don't like them."

"No, I was not." Seven assured him, amused. "Although it would be a valid question."

"Just as valid as thinking pudding is disgusting?" Chakotay pressed as he slid into the chair across from her.

"Yes." Seven admitted with a rueful sigh. Somehow she did not like conceding the point. "It is disgusting." Both of them moved to push the pudding dishes to the edge of the table. She hurriedly withdrew her hand and let him proceed; she thought, perhaps deceiving herself, that she saw him blink at her withdrawal, but if so he made no comment. "However, as you also said, it is not the fault of Mr Neelix. He was merely following a recipe neither of us care for."

"Right." Chakotay answered with a serious nod, belied by the upturn of his full lips.

Neelix's eyes flicked between the two of them. "Well, I'm glad to hear that at least!" he finally broke in brightly, "But as I said, no offence taken." He gathered up his rejected bounty with a shrug, "I really thought you might have tried it before Seven, with the children perhaps? It's such a nostalgic treat for many of the crew that someone would've suggested it…"

"They may have…" Seven replied stiffly. In actuality, the vast majority of the wider crew's comments about her raising of the children had been behind her back, though well within her range of hearing, and certainly hadn't concerned dietary suggestions for the children. "I did, on occasion, heed Chakotay's suggestions of ice cream and cake."

"Ah, I suppose that explains the lack of pudding then, if you were taking his advice!" Neelix clapped Chakotay lightly on the back.

"Hey, they liked it, didn't they?" Chakotay defended, smiling at the thought of the children. Following Seven around in a row like chicks after a hen in the beginning; later the younger three barging into the Mess Hall, Seven calling after them not to run as Icheb shook his head in exasperation, the archetypal elder sibling. That had been especially common when Seven allowed an indulgence of course…

"They did." Seven confirmed softly. Her voice drew his eyes back to her face and he saw at once the sad wistfulness there. She missed them. Painfully. Watching her with the young Ventu girl had made him think back, so it had to be hitting her hard. He let his fingers seek her hand, brush a strip of surprisingly warm skin between the strands of Borg exoskeleton over her hand. She tensed further, momentarily, as she registered the contact, then released the breath she'd been holding. "They were also very partial to Lieutenant Paris' pizza, doughnuts and popcorn." She said in a steadier tone.

"Looks like you had competition for second favourite teacher after Seven, Chakotay." Neelix teased, "Popcorn especially is ingenious. Who would've thought that heating little seeds a certain way…"

Chakotay snorted. "The only things Tom taught those kids were holodeck related…" He gave a self-deprecating chuckle, "So that means he won that contest."

Seven rolled her eyes at him, half hiding her smirk behind her human hand. "Perhaps."

"Tom isn't here right now, you could lie to me Seven…" He joked.

"You know me better than that Chakotay…" She started, mimicking his impish tone, but froze as she realised how she was talking, who she was talking to. No. She couldn't fall into this again. The Doctor had warned her, and she'd insisted the danger had to stay. Obviously she needed the failsafe to check her behaviour, to put a stop to lines of action and thought that would, in the end, only exacerbate her loneliness and discontentment. As the holodeck had. Short term pleasure earned long term pain. The situation on Ledos had been dire enough to demand all her attention, and if she were honest with herself, initially Chakotay's role in stranding them and his unadvisable interactions with the Ventu, dismissing her concerns, had aggravated her enough that it had been easy to be guarded and professional. She would've no more called him by his first name down there than she would've called B'Elanna coolheaded, or Tuvok illogical…

Neelix glanced at Seven quizzically as the light-hearted remark trailed off her lips and faded away. The blonde had abruptly paled. Chakotay's gaze, intent on her, became uncertain. Neelix stepped in swiftly, giving her a wide, encouraging smile while seamlessly taking up the thread of conversation. "Since the pudding tasting hasn't worked out, I'd better instruct the replicator to rustle up something else." He looked enquiringly at Chakotay, "Unless you ate your fill at the Captain's?"

Chakotay exchanged a wry smile with the Talaxian, he had more insight into the weekly dinners than most. Since Chakotay had for years, more weeks than not, visited the Mess Hall to soothe his unsettled or still growling stomach and on occasion bend the Morale Officer's willing ear. "More than usual. You heard about Seven saving the meal?" He flashed Seven a warm and gentle smile.

"I did." Neelix confirmed.

"I think the majority of her problem is that she enters recipes into the replicator incorrectly." Seven told them, "I know she prefers to program her own version to make it more 'home-cooked', but she should just order the computer set recipe by voice command…"

"How many recipes can there be for Chicken Kiev?" Chakotay questioned lightly, shrugging. He'd been glad even before Seven intervened that it was a chicken dish; he was not one of those vegetarians who rejected even replicated meat, but he still couldn't develop much of a taste for red meat. Then again, regularly over or undercooked wasn't much of an introduction.

"More than you would think." Seven answered.

"Well, since it's one of her favourite recipes, and yours was probably the tastiest since she's left Earth, I'd expect another dinner invitation."

Seven briefly ducked her head, the uncomfortable version of her usual poised nod. "If the Captain so wishes." She'd left tonight's dinner as soon as she'd seen an opening after the meal, pleading work. The Captain, partially seeing through her but knowing better than to pull apart the excuse, had gently told her to regenerate and take it easy. She'd also told her she was proud of how they'd handled themselves on Ledos, but wryly warned that she wouldn't send her to conferences again for a few months. Or give Chakotay permission to fly the shuttle they'd slowly need to build over the same time span. The dinner had actually been pleasant, the Captain in a warm, inquisitive mood, and hearing Chakotay's in-depth theories on the Ventu was interesting now that she was more than willing to hear them…but she'd felt inarticulate, not able to make her impressions of the place sound fully human. She knew the crew would have found her out of place at the dinner, but then they did anywhere.

"You still couldn't sleep after this wonderful meal?" Neelix questioned Chakotay.

Chakotay answered with a weary shrug. "You've got an insomniac old Indian on your hands again Neelix."

"Well, as I told Seven, desserts can help with the post away mission blues." Neelix replied in all confidence. He caught Seven's still lowered gaze, "Cheesecake, Seven?"

Seven chuckled softly as she arched a brow at him, "Neelix…"

The Talaxian raised his arms in laughing supplication. "I know, I know! Strawberry ice cream it is! Chakotay?"

The other man blinked, dragging curious eyes away from Seven to refocus on Neelix. "Oh, uh…chocolate for me please Neelix."

"Okay, two ice creams, one chocolate, one strawberry, coming right up! And a big bowl of popcorn for me…" Smacking his lips together in anticipation, Neelix bounced off towards the replicators.

"Use my replicators rations Neelix." Seven called after him softly.

Neelix started to spin around, "No, no, it's my treat…" He began to bluster.

"I can…" Chakotay jumped in at once.

Seven just shook her head firmly at him as she answered Neelix, "This time it will be my…treat."

"If you're sure you want to spend some of those hard earned and saved rations…"

"I am Mr Neelix." Seven reiterated. Her replicator use had dropped back down to its previous low levels since Mezoti, Azan and Rebi had left, Icheb considered himself grown enough that he preferred to use his own, and was anyway as economical with them as she was.

"Alright then." Neelix agreed with a reluctant sigh.

Reeling a little, Chakotay latched on to the question of his earlier surprise. "I've got to ask. Obviously, I get not liking pudding…" He chuckled, "…but cheesecake?"

"I don't dislike as such, in fact I rather enjoy making it." Seven replied ruefully, "But when the Doctor had to take…refuge in my implants and had control of my body, he overindulged. He ate three New York cheesecakes in one sitting, and I had to suffer the consequences. Since then, cheesecake has been rather tainted in my memory."

Chakotay made a sympathetic grimace. "As if not having control of your own body isn't bad enough…" He paused as it struck him that Seven had spent years like that, drones had no real control… He cleared his throat awkwardly, "But for the Doctor to take over…" He shuddered slightly, "Well, I guess this can't have been the worse of away missions, comparatively…"

The ghost of a smile that had flickered over Seven's face at his reaction to her unfortunate cheesecake aversion bloomed briefly into a genuine, if shy, one. "Not at all." She murmured.

"Me neither." Chakotay agreed, giving her one of his most open smiles before adding wryly, "Not even in the top twenty."

"Voyager has had an…eventual journey."

"You can say that again." Another wry smile broke through even as he sighed.

"Unnecessary." Seven tossed back, her deadpan delivery cracking when Chakotay laughed. Self-consciousness crept in as she realised how inordinately pleased, even proud, she was that he'd understood she was teasing. Her head dipped again, her eyes pulled down from his twinkling ones.

"Seven…" He lowered his voice. Concern? He shifted forward in his chair and their knees met under the table. Almost unavoidable, given their respective heights, but she still jumped at the contact.

"How is your leg?" she asked abruptly, irritated with herself that even as she tried to divert him she still gave away some of her thoughts.

"Good as new." He assured her, though she suspected from the slight frown on his face that he wasn't fooled. "The Doctor was fascinated with the Ventu's poultice."

"You may find he wants to write a paper on it." Seven advised him.

"That's exactly what he said!" Chakotay told her, snickering. "My ankle might become famous in medical circles by association."

"Not as famous as my own anatomy." Seven replied, bringing him back down to Earth, or more appropriately, Voyager. "Perhaps…" She hesitated, more serious now. "Perhaps you could write your observations of the Ventu. The Captain was as fascinated by your observations of their sign language as the Doctor is by their medicine."

Chakotay blinked at her and for a split second she worried she'd made a fanciful suggestion. He was a proud Starfleet officer, not… Then he smiled, thoughtfully and inwardly at first, then beamed at her, his eyes dark glowing embers of anticipation. "Yes." He murmured, "I could, I should… I mean, we didn't get much time, but…" He nodded vigorously, "That's an inspired idea, a flattering one…"

"I would not have suggested it if I did not think you were capable." Seven pointed out.

"I know." Chakotay reassured her gently, both amused and rather reassured himself by her brand of honesty. She wouldn't flatter him for the sake of it. "And thanks."

"You're very welcome." She answered quietly, giving him a long look before adding abruptly. "I should apologise."

"For what, Seven?" he asked blankly, so genuinely flummoxed that she felt worse. Oh, for acting on my attraction with a hologram… For avoiding you and being insolent afterwards…

"For leaving you alone when you were injured." She finally said. That didn't sit well with her now, someone who feared being alone abandoning an injured colleague. "For my initial attitude on the planet…"

"Seven, we talked about that." Chakotay reminded her tenderly, "I apologised for stranding us and making you miss your conference…"

Seven swallowed, "I did not really have a great desire to attend." She admitted, "The Ledosians are…ponderous. But it was preferable to shore leave. Still, I was frustrated by our predicament."

"You were in danger." Chakotay said sharply, then sighed at the confused look she shot him. "The Doctor filled me in at length about his theories about how your implants would start to fail if you couldn't regenerate…"

Seven pressed her lips tight together. "He should not have burdened you with that concern."

"I should've fully realised myself." Chakotay muttered darkly, "I'm sorry, Seven." He shook his head, "I apologised before and you thanked me for…" Given what the Doctor had told him of the painful decline Seven would've faced on that planet, her genuine thanks for the experience struck him as remarkable. "As for my ankle, I ordered you to do reconnaissance for the components we needed…"

"I could have disobeyed you." Seven told him, straightening, her gaze almost challenging.

Chakotay managed a small smirk. "I'm sure you could've." If anybody was capable of following her own instinct without a thought of the chain of command, it was Seven of Nine. "But if you hadn't left me, as I ordered, we wouldn't have had the Ventu to help us, we wouldn't have had our experience with them…" She nodded in acknowledgement of his points and he smiled, "…and I wouldn't have had a topic for my first anthropological paper."

She gaped at him before a soft laugh escaped her lips. "Your priorities are somewhat off Commander."

"Chakotay." He corrected absently, before grinning at her mischievously. "You've created a monster."

Seven shook her head at him. "A monster of anthropology? Doubtful."

Chakotay answered with a guffaw. "Maybe." He sobered as his brow crinkled in concern once more. "You're still thinking about what might happen to the Ventu?" He guessed as the hand that had earlier brushed against hers tentatively covered it.

Seven started to pull back, but his fingers curled stubbornly, gently holding her in place. She sighed and met his searching gaze with a clear-eyed but resigned one of her own. "You were correct in what you said." She said with finality.

"Yes…"

"I have no control over what may happen on that planet now, and there is no way for us to know in any case." Seven interrupted tersely, the words like a mantra that had evidently proved none too comforting.

Control. Something Seven had had so much of over the lives of others within the Collective, and yet none at all because of the very nature of being a drone. But then, what human liked things being out of their control? He certainly didn't… "It's still hard to accept that though." He told her, running a weary hand over his face as he thought of his nights lying awake. He hadn't been joking with Neelix about the insomnia. "Believe me, I do understand."

"I do believe you." Seven murmured earnestly, then sighed again. "It merely seems as if, in this instance, acceptance will take me longer than…" She consulted her internal chronometer, "…nine hours."

"And so it should." Chakotay agreed seriously, then, with a wan smile, "Unless Voyager runs into something else first."

"You prefer distraction to acceptance?" Seven arched an eyebrow and said dryly, "I suppose that explains Voyager's eventful journey in some part."

Chakotay wasn't in the mood to deny it, though what light that threw his and Kathryn's decisions into he had no idea, and she was so frank about it. "Must be."

Neelix had been holding back. Something in his gut told him to stand aside, to give the two of them time. After seven full years now as Voyager's Morale Officer, he'd learned to trust that instinct, within reason. The Commander and Seven weren't going to start a shouting match in his Mess Hall like Crewman Diaz and Ensign Soyadi had six months ago, no… Away missions had a history of stirring things up, and if Seven and Chakotay talking was their way of making the dust settle, so be it. But their ice cream was really starting to melt in the bowls, and since the pudding had already been a bust… He took the plunge and headed back to the table. "Here we are, two ice creams!"

"Thank you Neelix." The two of them said in unison. It was obvious that neither had noticed his delayed return.

Chakotay delved into his ice cream at once. Seven was more refined and careful at first, until Chakotay smirked at her provokingly, then she piled her spoon high and popped it unhesitatingly into her mouth right in front of him. "So…" Neelix began, drawing their attention back to him with a little regret. "I'd really like you to help me with the cooking classes again Seven. We were the perfect team in the beginning…"

"You needed assistance to distract the crew after the Quarra incident." Seven reminded him awkwardly, "The classes are a normal recreational activity now…"

"I think you're underestimating how rowdy these classes can get!" Neelix pressed, "I need some back up!" Realising from Seven's stiffening expression, that he might have given the impression Seven was just a disciplinarian…which she was, but not in a bad way. "And of course, you're a wonderful chef who learned from scratch! Inspirational!" Literally from nothing, he vividly remembered teaching her to eat.

"I wouldn't say that." Seven answered uneasily. She had an unfair advantage when it came to learning. Learning anything other than social skills that is. "But I will consider your request of course."

"That's all I ask." Neelix replied kindly, but he knew when to back off and conveniently remembered that he'd left his popcorn behind and left the table to retrieve it.

Seven watched him go, then turned back to Chakotay, who was watching her intently. "Why did you ask me to attend the cooking class?" She blanched as soon as the question left her lips, though she quickly clamped down on the reaction and tried to pretend it hadn't happened at all. Unfortunately, she couldn't take back the question. What had possessed her to ask that?

Chakotay took his time to answer. Honestly? He'd asked himself that question as soon as he'd made the suggestion, and it had recurred insistently, furiously, after she'd brushed him off and he'd felt irrationally, inexplicably irritated. As if he'd expected something else. He still didn't know the full answer for sure. He'd seen her struggling and he'd reached out… Although right now it seemed such a useless attempt at comfort that he felt crass. Seven wasn't exactly one to cry over spilled milk, whatever had bothered her, he didn't know what it had been, was almost guaranteed to have been serious. "It was spur of the moment." He admitted finally, "I wanted to." He continued in a softer voice, catching the blush that flooded her beautiful face before it drained away. The sight of it emboldened him. "Why did you say no?"

Seven considered not answering, but hearing honesty always pushed her own forward. "I was…unhappy at the time." She whispered, "I couldn't face it."

Chakotay nodded slowly, squeezing the hand he still held. "You're feeling better now?"

Seven stared down at their interlocked hands. "I don't know." She mumbled thickly, then shook herself and raised her head. "I will adapt." Her voice faltered as she met his eyes and she dropped the Borg mask as quickly as she'd hid behind it. "It was difficult, but I have faced difficulty before. We all have."

"Not alone." Chakotay pressed in an intense whisper.

Neelix chose that moment to return, munching happily. His voice was muffled by a huge mouthful that puffed out his cheeks like a chipmunk. "Maybe I shouldn't say…but a little celebration is being held in the holodeck tomorrow…"

"A party?" Chakotay clarified, louder than Neelix's secretive undertone, exchanging a look with Seven. "Who for?" he asked with a smirk, glad to brighten up.

Seven managed a wobbly smile. Not alone. Maybe she couldn't go beyond the failsafe, but she couldn't withdraw entirely either. It was…impossible. "You shouldn't presume Chakotay." She chided him, brow rising again. "It could be a party to commiserate with Tom for failing his Ledosian flying test."

Chakotay and Neelix both burst out laughing. The former could hardly catch his breath as he relished the release. He stared at Seven with wide eyes, "You have to go, just to say that to Tom's face!"

"Maybe."

"I'll take you." He offered seriously, "We'll have fun Seven. We need some fun."

"Yes." He wasn't sure which statement she was agreeing to at first, then decided from her blush and shy look that the first one was included in her assent. He was surprised how big his grin was.

Although he was really fully satisfied with this turn of events, Neelix couldn't stop himself from going back to his pet project while things were going well. "And the cooking class?"

Seven laughed under her breath. "Yes, I will attend the next one Mr Neelix." She assured him magnanimously.

He clapped his hands together. "Good! I'll prepare a vegetarian recipe to teach then, if you're going to join us too Chakotay?" The First Officer nodded vigorously, smiling to himself. "Oh!" Neelix continued, "I'm sure, between the two of you, you could convince the Captain to attend and really learn something…"

Seven and Chakotay's eyes met again. "We can try." They said in unison.

A/n: What Chakotay exclaims in Spanish is 'Disgusting!'

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