Paramount owns the characters, I'm just borrowing them. This story is rated 'M' for good reason, so adults only please. It contains scenes of a sexually explicit nature between two women. If you don't like that, don't read this story. Otherwise, enjoy!
The First Time
Janeway was curled up in her favourite chair, holding a dog-eared book carefully, for it was so well-thumbed that it could fall to pieces with the slightest touch. She had read Wuthering Heights so many times she could probably recite it word-for-word, yet each time she read it, it seemed different somehow, as though Janeway's own changing experiences and moods projected themselves onto the book. For now, though, she wasn't so much reading as daydreaming, and when a voice cut into her thoughts she jumped a little in surprise.
"Should you not be preparing yourself for dinner, Captain?" enquired Seven-of-Nine from across the room, where she herself sat at a computer console, immaculately attired in a grey trouser suit with a plain, white blouse. The monochrome outfit suited the ex-Borg, her ice-blue eyes standing out even more than usual.
"Mmmm," murmured Janeway, waving a hand in nonchalant agreement. She was quiet for another minute, then looked up suddenly and stared at Seven across their quarters.
"Seven?"
"Yes?"
"Why do you still call me Captain? We've been together for two years now, shared quarters for eighteen months, and yet you never call me by my name. Don't you think that's odd?"
"I haven't really considered it, Captain." Neither had Janeway, if she was honest. "Does it offend you?" asked the younger woman, frowning slightly as she rose and moved over to the replicator. "Coffee, black, hot."
Janeway shook her head slowly, watching her partner walk with a lithe grace that reminded her of a cat, not a furry little house pet but something wild, dangerous, like a panther or lynx. "I just wondered. But you didn't answer my question, Seven. Why do you call me Captain?"
"Because you are." The reply was so typically Borg that Janeway laughed, quickly ceasing when she received a very pointed glare from her companion. "To me," Seven continued, "you will always be my Captain. My Captain, my friend, my saviour." Seven stated this so simply, as though she said those sorts of things every day, and when Janeway spoke again she had tears in her eyes.
"How did I manage without you?" she mumbled, blinking. "I love you more every day, more than I thought possible."
"As I do you," replied Seven-of-Nine, bringing the steaming mug over and placing it on a table just out of Janeway's reach. She arched her eyebrows and pointed at the drink.
"An incentive, Captain. I would prefer to be punctual to dinner, for once."
Janeway smiled. Although she was listening to the blonde woman, her mind was elsewhere. Well, not so much elsewhere as elsewhen. "Seven, do you remember what we were doing two years ago?"
"Of course. We were making love, in that chair as I recall."
"God, I was so nervous, I couldn't stop shaking. You thought I was ill, remember? I had to disable your communications access so that you couldn't call the Doctor." The older woman reached out a hand towards her partner, who took it after a fraction of a second's hesitation. Janeway pulled her close and Seven settled comfortably on Janeway's knee, wrapping her slender arms around Janeway's shoulders. Despite the Borg being the taller of the two, this was their customary arrangement. Seven tilted her head down and kissed Janeway's forehead lightly.
"Are you still nervous when we are…intimate?" whispered Seven gently, caressing the back of her partner's neck with her long fingers. The Captain slid her hands under the ex-Borg's jacket, slipping it off and dropping it in a crumpled heap on the floor.
"Yes," admitted Janeway, grinning. "But not as much. It was your first time, and I so wanted to show you how much you meant to me, how much pleasure two people could share. I didn't want to do anything wrong, I was worried that you might not want me." Janeway's fingers strayed to the buttons of Seven's blouse, teasing them open one at a time and wondering how far Seven would let this go before once again reminding them that they were supposed to be meeting Tom and B'Elanna for dinner in twenty minutes' time.
"As I remember, you did nothing wrong," stated Seven, gasping slightly as Janeway's delicate fingers brushed across a nipple through the silky fabric. Inwardly Janeway grinned. She never tired of loving the younger woman, would do anything to get that reaction. She trailed a line of kisses down Seven's neck as she finished undoing the blouse, which joined the jacket on the floor. Deftly unhooking her partner's bra, Janeway slipped her mouth lower to Seven's full breasts, nibbling and licking first one, then the other. The blonde moaned, running her fingers through Janeway's soft, red hair which smelt of cherry blossom. "You are a competent lover, Captain," added Seven.
"Thank you, I think," laughed Janeway. "So are you, when I give you the chance." Janeway's hands were on the move again, one circling the smooth skin of her lover's back whilst the other wandered lower, eventually slipping under the waistband of Seven's trousers after unfastening them without too much difficulty. Seven leaned into Janeway, resting her cheek on the Captain's shoulder and nuzzling her neck, closing her eyes as Janeway's hand found its destination. With the side of her thumb she stroked Seven's centre of pleasure with hardly any pressure, causing Seven to push against her insistently. Normally she would acquiesce to her companion's wishes, but for now she wanted to take her time as she had done that wonderful night two years ago.
Janeway removed her hand and eased off, once again focusing her attention on the younger woman's smooth breasts. Seven uttered a disappointed murmur, but Janeway shook her head. "It's not about speed, Seven," she said huskily, raising her head and finding Seven's lips with hers. They shared a passionate kiss, long and deep, before the Borg broke away.
"Touch me again, Captain," she whispered, taking Janeway's hand in hers and directing Janeway, both their hands brushing against Seven's groin. Janeway did so with a caress so gentle that Seven thought she would faint with anticipation. Sensing her friend's need, Janeway increased her tempo whilst still keeping her touch light. Janeway was a sensitive woman and teasing a lover was not her style.
Both women were utterly lost in the moment, and right then nothing else even existed but the two of them. Since they had become lovers Janeway had privately entertained thoughts that would appear mutinous to her crew, ideas of leaving Voyager and settling on a planet somewhere, building a life with the woman she loved. After six years in the Delta Quadrant Janeway was tired, tired of the constant danger that followed Voyager, tired of murderous aliens and deadly anomalies, tired of keeping up a façade of determination and optimism that had slowly been chipped away over the years.
"Captain…" moaned Seven softly, pushing harder against Janeway's hand. Gripping the Borg tightly and holding her close, the Captain continued to pleasure her partner, her expert touch bringing the Borg to a sudden, shuddering climax. The younger woman collapsed against Janeway who held her as she trembled. Minutes passed as both women relaxed together, Seven's breathing slowly returning to normal.
"Well, Seven, you'd better get ready. We don't want to be late," Janeway murmured playfully into the blonde's hair, kissing her once more. "We've already cancelled twice for this very reason – I think they're starting to suspect something." The Captain laughed easily and released her hold on the younger woman who stood and looked at her crumpled jacked and blouse with suspicion. "I don't think you can wear that, Seven," laughed Janeway, gesturing to the bedroom. The two women went to change, chatting about little things. In ten minutes – only five minutes late – they were ready.
"Shall we?" asked the Captain?
Seven-of-Nine inclined her head in assent and the women left their quarters, hand-in-hand.