I've decided to experiment with a new style (well, it's new for me). Why? Because I can.
Summary:It has finally dawned on Seven: she is attracted to the chief engineer. What's a Borg girl to do? If this premise offends you, then you definitely won't like this story. If not, come try it! Tell me what you think.
DISCLAIMERS: I don't own the show, the characters, the settings, or the franchise (as if you didn't know). I don't even own the original idea of a possible romance between Seven and Torres. I'm just borrowing them for my own obscure purposes. No harm or infringement is intended.
Again, thanks to Singing Violin for the helpful beta-reading the original story.
I've changed it completely since then, but still ;)
Thank you to Jadzia for pointing out that this particular style was not J7 material.
Thank you to my reviewers for pointing out a few glitches. They're all fixed!
When B'Elanna Torres entered Engineering, Seven was waiting for her, standing straight, hands clasped behind her back as was her habit. They'd been butting heads a lot more than usual lately, and the young Borg had experienced many conflicting emotions about the situation. This time, she wasn't going to let her own social clumsiness turn a simple conversation into an argument. This time, she had a plan. She plunged as soon as a startled Torres acknowledged her presence with a curt, "What's on your mind, Seven?"
"You must sit first." She was immediately appalled at herself; that was not how she'd wanted that to come out. Why was she so nervous? It must be her humanity reasserting itself. "I meant to say, could you sit down, please? There is an important matter that I must bring to your attention, and I have noticed that sitting is your preferred position in such circumstances," she amended quickly.
The lieutenant gave her one of the looks that only she could pull off, and for a moment, she seemed poised to order her to go to hell and let her get back to work. But, perhaps sensing her fraught nerves, she eventually relented – well, as much as the Klingon hybrid ever relented to anyone. She made a show of swaggering to a console edge, and set her shoulders as she briskly lowered herself to her seat. "Well, you wanted this meeting. Start talking."
This unspoken challenge inspired Seven's natural inclination to argue on an uneventful day, but in a matter of this importance, it made her even more determined to continue with her plan. She took a step forward.
And then another. And another. That brought her right in front of the impatient lieutenant. She then paused, holding the other woman's gaze. When the officer didn't budge, she took a deep breath – the only allowance she would make to her quivering stomach – before she crossed the point of no return. She kissed her.
Torres was so stunned by this, every one of her muscles froze. Seven knew this shocked state wouldn't last long before the fiery lieutenant shoved her off and demanded to know what the hell she was thinking. She had to act quickly. She rested her hands on B'Elanna's shoulders, and held her gaze: icy blue eyes and darkening black orbs. Neither would break this one steady contact; it was the only thing that still made sense to them in this world that the former drone had recklessly thrown into chaos.
Working her jaw muscles, carefully watching her victim's every response, Seven slowly lowered her hands to the chief engineer's, settling to hold them like a lover's. That was when the comm. system crackled to Neelix's voice wishing everyone a good morning.
The sound was enough to remind them both of who and where they were. For what seemed like a small eternity, they simply stared at each other, breathing raggedly, their bodies shaking, their stomachs quivering. As Seven nervously waited for her intended's response, she studied her intently, noting that her pupils were dilated, that she kept biting her own lips as if she wanted to taste them, taste her on them, but had to stop herself every time. Seven also noted that with each passing microsecond, every one of Torres's muscles tensed, trembled, and tensed further, until she couldn't hold them any longer.
She started to rise towards Seven, her eyes hungry with a longing Seven had never begun to imagine. Even as the young officer watched, she saw the confusion flicker in her beloved's eyes, wavering a little before it finally steeled itself into smoky black resolve. Seven held her breath as B'Elanna began to move towards her again.
Her next coherent perception was the bruising hardness of the floor on her buttocks and back echoing the raw punch in the gut she had received when the Klingon had hurtled her across the room. Confusion brought on somewhat irrational thoughts, considering the love of her life was presently pacing around her and yelling every insult she could think of. Seven even thought she felt spittle on her cheek, an amazing feet really, as she was currently laying haphazardly on the ground and the mouth it came from was still moving and ranting about five feet above her. When Seven reflexively angled her head towards the doors after hearing approaching footsteps, Torres guessed what was happening and snapped at the computer to seal the engineering doors. She then ordered it to block all incoming communications, and to accept no override codes except her own. The computer obliged before anyone could intrude on them. With that safety measure in check, B'Elanna enthusiastically resumed her yelling.
This was not the reaction Seven had been hoping for. Then again, it wasn't as if she hadn't expected it, even seen it coming. She was just going to have to be patient about this, accept her beloved's ire, and take her punishment like a man. So to speak. It seemed Lt. Paris's idioms were 'rubbing off' on her at the most inappropriate times. Of course, mentally listing idioms had the added benefit of distracting her from the verbal assault. She'd just discovered that she really hated yelling.
She was just coming to this unfortunate conclusion when she felt two fists grab her by the biosuit and pull her to her feet. Seven's legs bucked several inelegant times under her before she finally regained her balance. She rested a hand on a console to steady herself, but it wasn't long before she realized that Torres was advancing on her like a raging bull on a toreador. She actually expected a blow, but instead, the brunette simply halted right in front of her, planted her feet, and stared her down. She was still shaking, and her voice was hoarse when she said, "Get out."
"Lieutenant?" was the young officer's uncertain response.
"You heard me. Get out." When Seven simply stared, B'Elanna shoved her towards the door. "I don't know who the hell you think you are," she growled, "but no one – not you, nor anyone else – has the right to barge in here and force their feelings on me. No one," she reiterated. Seven's eyes started to tear up, but she couldn't bring herself to move, to look away from her beloved's angry face. Despite everything that had transpired, she could not believe that she was ultimately being rejected. She just couldn't. She had finally managed to lift a foot when a renewed shout resonated in her ears and shook her entire body. "Get out!"
With that, Seven rotated fully, and took her first steps toward the sealed doors. She hadn't gone very far, however, when she heard another frustrated cry.
"Oh, and Seven, one last thing." Seven stood rooted to the spot, petrified into place. She didn't even dare to breathe. It was Torres who grabbed her by the shoulders, whipped her around, and planted a searing kiss on her mouth. Right before she bit her on the cheek.
The lieutenant then stepped back, took a good look at her suitor, and kissed her hard again, crushing the athletic body against her own. When she finally stepped back again, they were both heaving, completely out of breath. "I…" B'Elanna panted, "I wasn't too hard on you, was I?"
This made Seven of Nine smile one of her rare smiles. Remembering her newly learned human expressions, she asserted, "Darling, you make a saber-tooth tiger seem like a harmless pussycat."
This earned her a shocked stare, which lasted a full ten seconds. B'Elanna didn't know what surprised her more: Seven's description itself or the fact that it had crossed the ex-drone's lips. She finally erupted into a full-on, drop-down, drag-out belly laugh, deciding she couldn't care less.
Seven's mind went pleasantly blank.
Where did that come from, you ask? What got into Seven, you wonder? Read on to chapter 2 to find out.