Better Than Perfect

By Laura Schiller

Based on: Voyager Relaunch Novels

Copyright: Paramount/Kirsten Beyer

1.

He is untidy or, to use his own expression, a right old slob.

"How can it be so difficult for you to place used clothes in the hamper?" she asks in amazement, picking up trousers flung over a chair, an undershirt crumpled on a corner of the sofa and odd socks scattered across the floor.

"Priorities, Seven!" He swivels his chair around to wave a padd at her. "I'm up to my ears in reports here, tidying up can wait."

"How can you work in these conditions?"

"Easily." He smirks. "It's creative chaos. Besides, I didn't stop to fold my clothes last night and you didn't complain then."

She turns away to hide her blush, but a mischievous laugh from behind her tells her he knows exactly what she is thinking.

2.

He is brutally honest, highly intelligent, confident to the point of arrogance, and altogether too much like her. If she hadn't realized that at once, it would have become easily apparent when he began their acquaintance in a position of authority.

"I understand that you feel most comfortable in a place where you can exert control," he told her once, during their very first counselling session, long before their relationship began. "But we can't both have control in this room, Seven, therefore I'm asking you to cede it to me. I am smarter than you, after all – at least in this area."

Her pride was stung, but her logic agreed, and so she allowed him – grudgingly – to lead the session, even when the questions he asked were difficult or even painful to answer.

When she disengaged her neural inhibitor at his request and failed spectacularly in controlling the Caeliar voice, she expected to see disappointment in the counsellor's eyes. Instead, she saw respect, and felt the warm pressure of his hands holding hers.

"You are one of the bravest individuals I have ever known," he told her gently.

Since that moment, she has never hesitated in trusting him again.

3.

He is a newcomer to Voyager.

At first she wonders why this, of all things, pleases her. Surely someone who had known her from the beginning would understand her even better? It's not until a certain evening at Sandrine's, under the influence of more than one glass of Romulan ale, that she realizes why.

" … and that's when she said, 'Are you in love with me, Ensign, or do you wish to copulate?" says Harry, raising his voice to be heard over the roars of laughter at the table. "You're kidding!" B'Elanna gasps, even though they've all heard this story several times before.

"I'm serious!"

"What did you do?" Tom prods.

"Froze like a deer in the headlights, didn't I?" Harry gives Seven a good-natured pat on the back, either too drunk or too amused to notice that the color in her face is due to a hot wave of embarrassment..

She darts a glance at Hugh next to her, whose brown eyes are dancing with merriment. Her face turns, if possible, even hotter. "Must you repeat that story in front of the Counsellor, Mr. Kim?"

To her astonishment and relief, as always, Hugh seems to take it all in stride.

"Hey," he whispers into her ear, "If you think that's embarrassing, you should come to my sister's place in Cornwall when the mission is over. The stories she knows about my misspent adolescence would make your hair curl."

"A physical impossibility."

"Wait 'till you hear them."

This time, the wave of warmth filling her from head to toe has nothing to do with embarrassment. She leans in closer.

"I am very glad," she confides, "That I was a full-fledged individual when we met."

"The feeling is mutual, my dear."

4.

He is twenty years her senior.

"You do realize," he points out, when the subject comes up, "That certain malicious tongues might accuse me of cradle-robbing?"

"I am thirty-one," she replies. "Hardly in need of a cradle."

"Hmm, true. Not to mention that you've lived more in those thirty-one years than some people do in a lifetime. Still … " The worry lines in his face deepen as he watches her face on the pillow next to his, "Are you sure it doesn't bother you? Me being so much older, more … experienced … than you are?"

The way his hand slides along her waist leaves her in no doubt as to what sort of 'experience' he is referring.

"Why should it?" She smiles. "Since I have little experience with romantic relationships, it is logical for me to seek out someone who does."

"I do hope there's more to it than logic, sweetheart," he purrs.

"Rest assured … " She rolls over on top of him, a more effective argument than any she could make in words, "There is."

She commits to memory his salt-and-pepper curls scattered across the pillow, the traces many years of laughter and lively conversation have left on his face.

Perfection is boring, he told her once. At last, she understands.