A Match made in Seven

"Ah, Seven, here for your weekly check-up?" asked Voyager's Emergency Medical Hologram, better known as simply the Doctor. He picked up a medical tricorder and approached Seven-of-Nine, passing the scanner up and down as he went.

"That is correct."

The former Borg drone stood rigidly, hands behind her back as she allowed the Doctor to complete his examination. After a minute he frowned, then shook his head and tutted, moving the tricorder to scan the cybernetic implant on Seven's forehead.

"I'm detecting elevated levels of several neural transmitters in your cortical implant, Seven," stated the Doctor. "Have you been neglecting your regeneration again?"

Seven shifted uncomfortably. She had been working more hours than she should, trying to get the new modifications to the sensors online.

"I may have underestimated my required regeneration time on occasion. Is there a problem, Doctor?"

"No, nothing that won't be solved after a good night's sleep. I'm prescribing eight hours, Seven, that's an order."

"I will comply." Seven turned to leave, then stopped half way to the sick bay doors. "Doctor, may I speak with you regarding a personal matter?"

"Of course, Seven, you know I will always try to help you with aspects relating to your humanity and social interactions. What is it this time? Had any more…incidents with Lieutenant Torres?"

"I have not," replied Seven-of-Nine. "It is regarding more…romantic situations. I would like to go on a date. Who do you think would be a suitable choice amongst the crew?"

The Doctor hid his surprise at Seven's question, at the content rather than the blunt approach she demonstrated on a regular basis. He was used to that, having spent more time with her than any other crew member with the possible exception of Captain Janeway.

"Well, Seven, there are, I suppose, several crewmembers who might provide suitable companionship for a date, however I must say I didn't realise you would wish to enter into such a situation so quickly. After all, we've only just begun your lessons on social interactions."

"I have observed that humans regularly seek out companionship of another on a one-to-one basis in a social setting. I wish to experience this."

The Doctor sighed, placing the tricorder carefully onto an instrument table. Against his better judgement he found himself agreeing to help, his curiosity outweighing his trepidation at what the outcome may be.

"Of course I will assist you, Seven. Would you like me to draw up a list of suitable candidates for you?" Seven nodded. "Then return here at sixteen hundred hours and we'll take it from there."

"Thank you, Doctor."

Seven-of-Nine left sickbay and the Doctor, who walked to his office and seated himself in front of the console.

"Computer, display a list of current Voyager crew members." The console beeped in response.

"Delete married or attached personnel." Beep.

The Doctor looked at the list for half a minute, then exclaimed to himself "This is impossible; I'm a doctor, not a matchmaker!" He pulled the chair towards the console again.

"Rank remaining crew members in order of intelligence from their Starfleet records and display the first twenty only." Beep.

"Aha, that's more like it. Computer, extrapolate from available data on these crew members which would provide the best romantic match for Seven-of-Nine."

State comparison parameters.

"Interests, skills, physical attractiveness," specified the Doctor, making it up as he went along.

Extrapolation complete.

"Display top three and include service records, authorisation EMH gamma two five."

The Doctor leaned closer to the screen and had to stifle a chuckle. At the top of the list was none other than Captain Janeway. 'Well, they would make a good couple' he admitted, 'but I'd better take her off the list for now'. Following the Captain's name were those of Ensign Bronowski and Lieutenant Chapman, both of whom the Doctor, in his limited experience, thought may be suitable. He decided to present Seven with the information and allow her to decide between the two.

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Even after some last-minute coaching by the Doctor, Seven-of-Nine's date with the unfortunate Lt. Chapman is less than successful, and after treating Chapman for a dancing-related injury and sending him to his quarters the Doctor and Seven remain in sick bay. After trying to persuade his friend that she shouldn't give up because of one bad date, he is surprised when she tells him she no longer requires lessons on social interaction.

"But Seven, I thought you wanted to explore human companionship?"

Seven folded her arms and looked the Doctor in the eye. "I appreciate your assistance, Doctor, however there are no more acceptable mates remaining on Voyager. If, however, I find a suitable mate in the future, I shall seek your assistance once again."

Seven appeared downcast even as she uttered this confident statement. The Doctor regarded her for a moment, then gently took her arm and led her to his office console.

"Sit," he ordered. Seven complied, more out of surprise than a willingness to be seated. "I asked the computer to extrapolate the best matches for you from the personnel on board. However, I left one person out, someone whom the computer feels would be a perfect match for you."

"Who is that, Doctor?"

The Doctor pressed several buttons on the console and brought his original list up on the screen. "Captain Janeway."

Seven pushed her chair away and stood up quickly, walking across the room then turning back towards the Doctor as he continued to speak.

"Yes, our Captain came out top of the list. Ordinarily, of course, there are strict rules on who a starship captain can and cannot date, however I feel that in Voyager's current circumstances they ought to be…bent somewhat, if not broken. Captains need companionship just like anyone else."

"It would be…inappropriate of me to request that the Captain accompany me on a date."

"Well, let's not call it a date. Invite her to dinner on the holodeck. I'll give you some coaching and hopefully we can avoid any further injuries. Computer, locate Captain Janeway."

Captain Janeway is in her quarters.

The Doctor steered Seven towards the sick bay doors. "Go, ask her now," he urged, and, seeing Seven-of-Nine's expression, added "Trust me" with a smile.