Three Years Earlier…

Chakotay sighed deeply as he looked around his quarters. They weren't perfect, not by a long shot. He'd always been tidy to the point of being minimalistic, he'd had to be when living in the cramped confines of the Valjean, but as neat and well-ordered as the place was, an air of disuse permeated the room that he hadn't noticed before. It looked like what it was, a pit stop where he paused to sleep, shower, eat his meals when he had replicator rations, and then would hurriedly leave for more important stomping grounds. A bachelor pad in all but name. Only the mercifully pleasant smells floating over from the kitchenette's tiny oven brought a smile of hopeful satisfaction to his lips. However, it also brought the uncomfortably nerve-wracking realisation that he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a meal, tête-à-tête, in here. He ate with the Captain weekly, but that was always on her terms, on the home ground of her quarters, a time when they tried to stitch together old wounds in their relationship that may have opened in the past week with the skin deep balm of light chatter. Necessary, often pleasant enough, but far from relaxing either.

"Computer, dim the lights in my quarters by thirty per cent." He ordered quietly, smiling in wry relief as the change of lighting, cliché though it was, softened the ambience of the room considerably and put him a little more at ease. He knew that anyone privy to his thoughts and situation at that moment would've raised their eyebrows, after all, his guest, his date, had a Cargo Bay for her quarters, but they hadn't experienced the comfort, the freedom and ease, he'd felt when he'd been shown to a private corner of that Cargo Bay for a picnic arranged by, he now suspected, the most earnest and open-hearted woman he'd ever known…

The flicker of the red numerals of his wall clock got his attention as they showed precisely 1900 hours. He hastily wiped his suddenly moist hands on his trousers and took a deep breath as he pre-empted her arrival by heading for the door, he knew her well enough by now to know she'd be punctual, but what actually happened next taught him once again to always expect surprises.

Instead of the anticipated ring of the doorbell, the insistent buzz of the transporter filled his ears and with the briefest flash of white light, Seven of Nine's unmistakable figure appeared directly before him, standing so close that the bunch of flowers she held innocuously in one hand almost brushed against his chest. Her eyes widened along with his as she registered his reaction and was overwhelmed with the doubt that had been biting at her heels since he'd left her after issuing this invitation. Had the surgery to remove her emotional failsafe affected her physical appearance somehow? Or had she misinterpreted the appropriateness of flowers for this occasion? Perhaps he'd been about to retract his offer when she'd arrived? When he continued to gaze at her wordlessly, obviously stunned but showing no trace of anger, she plumped for the simplest answer, "Am I early?"

Chakotay gave his head a dazed shake, caught off guard not just by her unconventional entrance but just how captivated he was by the variety of emotions he'd glimpsed in her face in that instant which reflected and magnified his own. "No…" He smiled to himself as he remembered his previous thoughts about her faultless punctuality, "You're right on time." He waited until she'd nodded in relief before allowing himself to ask the obvious question, "Is there something wrong with the door?"

Seven blushed as she shook her head, her eyes flicking between his face to the flowers in her hands and back again. She knew he was amused, but there was no judgement in his voice, just harmless curiosity. "I thought it would be…indiscrete to be seen taking flowers into the First Officer's quarters." She answered honestly, feeling able to confidently hold his gaze.

Chakotay found himself chuckling in agreement, "You're probably right about that." He admitted, even as he felt a protective twinge towards her, in all honesty, looking at her now, he hadn't given a second thought to discretion. He gently placed his hands over hers to take the flowers, "I'd better put these in some water…" She jumped slightly at his touch at first, but allowed him draw the crutch of the flowers away.

Later, she wouldn't be able to clarify the trigger for her actions, maybe being free of the emotional failsafe had exacerbated her impulsiveness, or the heat that surged through her from the unguarded touch broke through her inhibitions and common sense, but he hadn't even turned back to face her properly from setting the flowers aside before she'd grasped his elbow as an anchor to lean forward and kiss him. Whatever surprise he must've felt melted away before she could pick up on it, Chakotay was more interested in prolonging the kiss than questioning it. As Seven let him take over her lead, she loosened his hold on his elbow, her hand instinctively travelling up to his shoulder to curl around his neck. When the need for air reminded her of just what she was doing, she broke the kiss off as abruptly as she'd started it. She took one stumbling step back to disconnect herself, but Chakotay's hands remained a steadying presence around her waist. "I…" She started, keeping her gaze lowered away from his face until she realised that seeing his broad chest heave for breath was equally distracting, "My research informed me that…" She gulped, her tongue numb and her lips tingling uncontrollably, "…that anticipation of the first kiss can lead to…tension." She held her head up high for a moment as she felt her cheeks glow pleasantly from the intensity of Chakotay's gaze, now smouldering with a foreign heat. "I wanted to attempt to alleviate that tension."

Chakotay's hold tightened around her, tilting her towards him as he brought his face close. "That was very considerate of you." He murmured, his fingers fanning out under her chin as he gazed down at her, "What about the second kiss?"

The whispered question caressed her lips as well as her ears, and the shiver that reached the base of her spine told her it was probably rhetorical, but her mind couldn't quite keep up with her body's signals. "I do not know, I would need to search for…" This time it was Seven's turn to be cut off, but like Chakotay before her accepting the kiss came naturally. It developed like a flower exposed to bright sun; Chakotay's hands fell away from her waist to cradle her hip, her light touch on his shoulder slid down to his chest to clutch at his uniform, her other arm coiling around his neck as the kiss continued to deepen, closing the gap between their bodies as one.

They didn't break apart long enough, for mere gasps of air that only seemed to fuel their desire, to be able to distinguish when the second kiss became the third, fourth or one lavish, passionate make out session. Eventually, though it may have been only a few minutes later, the pleading beep of the cooking timer begun to pierce the delicate bubble around them. "Will we still have the 'dinner' component of this dinner date if we continue to ignore that?" Seven murmured wryly, having to duck her head from his in order to speak as Chakotay's deprived lips sought hers out with barely restrained moan.

His long, contented sigh took on a chuckle at the end, "You're the chef between the two of us." He reminded her with a mock frown.

Seven gave him a teasing nip of a kiss in reply, "Not tonight, not if you complied with our definition of this date."

Chakotay laughed huskily as he gave himself a shake and raised his hands in supplication, "I remember, I promise! You'll see what that deal got you if I'm in time." He took the time to keep his hand in the crook of her hip, guiding her into the kitchen with him even as he anxiously snatched up an aged pair of oven gloves and yanked open the oven door with Seven watching his antics in amusement. "There, see…" He pulled out the rescued dish with a sigh of relief as he saw the meal was golden brown rather than singed black, "We didn't need to interrupt what we were doing any earlier…"

Seven smirked at him, "No we did not." She conceded warmly, peering expectantly at their meal. "A pasta bake. It appears to be perfect,"

Chakotay winced slightly, "Reserve that judgement until you taste it. It's not as comprehensive as your picnic, but…"

Seven shook her head, reaching out to touch his hand reassuringly, "I owe a great deal to Neelix in that respect, I relied on his guidance." She admitted ruefully.

"And yet there wasn't a crumb of Leola root in sight." Chakotay quipped, his smile widening as Seven started to giggle, it was an unexpectedly light, easy sound. "That picnic was all you, us." He told her meaningfully before winking towards the brimming pasta dish as he carried it towards the already set table, "This is partially Neelix's doing too though, this recipe was the subject of his second cooking class. The mushrooms and aubergines in it are fresh from Hydroponics."

Seven gracefully sat down at her place at the small, round table, "I will have to pass on a progress report to Mr Neelix the next time I talk to him then won't I? He is anxious that the crew's culinary skills don't slip in his absence."

Chakotay gave a dry chuckle as he served them both a portion then sat down himself opposite her. "I don't know, I think that's pretty much a given. Have you seen Chell's suggested new menu yet?"

Seven's eyebrows arched high, "With 'Red Alert Chilli' as the main special?" She echoed his knowing laugh, "Unfortunately, yes."

"He'll gain his chef-legs soon enough. Chell's a good man, he'll try his best." Chakotay reassured her honestly, watching anxiously as Seven lifted her fork to her mouth, a proud, boyish grin breaking across his face as she nodded approvingly. "How is Neelix doing? You've had more chance to talk to him since he left than I have."

Seven mulled over her answer thoughtfully, "He misses us as much as the crew misses him, understandably, but he is still the happiest I have ever seen him with Dexa and Brax." She smiled ruefully to herself, "He told me yesterday that he knows he made the right choice." Sighing softly, she added quietly, "It is strange how much loneliness can afflict the most unexpected people."

Chakotay swallowed, reaching across the table to take her free hand as he felt his own quiver, "I know." He murmured gently before retracting the quick squeeze to return to his meal. As he did so however, he saw Seven's forehead scrunch up in pain as she sipped her glass of water, "What's wrong?" he immediately questioned, "Is the water too cold or…"

Seven flushed as she shook her head resolutely, "No, the temperature is acceptable, I just…have a lingering headache."

Chakotay studied her in concern, "Maybe I should take you to Sickbay…"

"That won't be necessary." Seven interrupted him sharply, her proudly upright shoulders slumping as she saw him stiffen at her absolute tone. "I have already consulted the Doctor." She admitted shakily, "He operated on the problem circuitry today, before I came here, I am merely suffering some temporary discomfort…"

She jumped as his cutlery clanged against his plate at the word 'operated'. "You had surgery?" he forced out harshly, "Why didn't you…"

"I did not want to worry you unnecessarily." Seven pleaded, "It was a component of my cortical node that I once may have required, but has recently caused problems. The Doctor repaired me completely I can assure you…"

Chakotay lifted his hand to stop her, "Seven…" He began thickly, trying to gather his fearfully scattered thoughts, "I don't want to pry, it isn't like that, but I would've liked to be there for you…"

"I know." Seven cut in with certainty, hardly hesitating before taking his hand tentatively in hers and squeezing it, as much to comfort herself as him. Thinking about the emotional failsafe now not only brought guilt and unease over her use of the Chakotay hologram, which she now knew to be a pale imitation, but also a realisation of how misguided her reaction to its existence had been. Any of her encounters with Chakotay before today's surgery could've killed her, but she'd been too reliant on, too proud of, the Borg detachment which kept her alive but left her hollow. "I wish I could have had you there, but I…was not ready." She admitted regretfully.

Chakotay brought her hand to his lips and kissed the metal capped knuckles tenderly, commuting forgiveness as well as affection in the simple gesture as he met her gaze. "I understand." He murmured, "And if you ever feel ready to tell me what happened…" He didn't need to pull a full explanation from her to know that something serious had happened, she wouldn't submit to surgery, let alone hide it, if it had been a simple malfunction, and over the past couple of months she'd been particularly withdrawn, afraid. "I'm ready and willing to listen."

Seven smiled then, a new calm he hadn't seen before settling on her as she breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm glad." She told him in a sincere, meaningful whisper before her face lightened. "Lieutenants Torres and Paris were returning to Sickbay as I was leaving."

Chakotay's eyes widened, "Another false alarm?"

"No, I believe B'Elanna in particular wanted to consult with the Doctor about the possibility of induction, the anticipation of a four day Klingon influenced labour is getting to her, but the Doctor was discouraging."

Chakotay shook his head sympathetically, "Poor B'Elanna and Tom, if this goes on much longer baby Miral will never even get the prospect of a sibling. B'Elanna's already stir-crazy and the baby hasn't arrived yet!"

Seven smiled contemplatively, "I don't know of course, but I believe there's a high probability of them having more children in the future."

Chakotay shot her a curious look, Seven wasn't normally the type to speculate on things like that. "What makes you say that?"

Seven shrugged shyly, "I am attempting to use the idea of 'intuition'." She replied drily.

Chakotay chuckled even as he watched her thoughtfully, "Have you ever considered having children?"

Seven gave a sharp start, "Not seriously." She stutteringly answered.

Chakotay suddenly felt guilty, seeing how he'd wrinkled the comfortable atmosphere between them. "I don't mean anything by it Seven." He assured her hurriedly, "I'm just curious. You've been such a natural with Naomi and the Borg children…"

"No, you are within your rights to ask." Seven responded tightly, "It is not that I've never found the prospect appealing, in fact…" She trailed off, "But I know that it is unlikely, even undesirable considering what havoc my nanoprobes would wreck on a baby, or whether I would survive the process… I would rather be more considerate of any child's needs in that regard than my own selfishness. If I couldn't be certain that I could be a fit and responsible parent to healthy children then I wouldn't take the risk."

Chakotay saw the resigned sadness this conclusion left her with and stood up to go to her. "I understand."

Seven turned glistening, fearful eyes up to him. "Do you?"

"Yes." Chakotay said firmly, "I'm not saying I've never wanted children, but the choices I've made in life, joining the Maquis and everything else too, have prevented it so far and I can accept that continuing." He sighed as he stroked her lovely face lightly, "A lot of people would consider me too old to start now anyway…"

Seven's gaze became clear and piercing. "You are not old." She declared resolutely, moving to clasp his hand she still held to her face, "The gap in our ages is irrelevant to me."

"I know." Chakotay murmured fondly. After all, hadn't the pretext for their first date been that he'd realised it was her thirtieth birthday? He would be forty nine in a matter of months. "I need you to hear this Seven, honestly I've believed for years that I…wasn't meant to have a romantic relationship, I'd missed my chances or it just wasn't a road my life was supposed to take but…" He took a deep breath, "I feel different now, about us. I think…I know that we could last. Is that okay?"

"Yes…" Seven choked out, "I never thought that I would have the chance either…" Her voice caught and she turned her face further into his hand.

Chakotay soothingly rubbed her cheek with his thumb, swallowing hard. "Hey, what we should be talking about sweetheart, if we're going to take this chance together, is how we can possibly top this date with our next one?"

Seven's face brightened, her eyes taking on a mischievous, even seductive, glint. "I suppose I could wear a dress…"


Personal Log, Seven of Nine, Stardate 57912.6: I have completed a full six hour regeneration cycle as the Doctor prescribed, and an additional three hours of REM sleep in my and Chakotay's quarters. Today I am now twelve weeks and two days into the forty week human gestation period, according to conventional medical wisdom passing the twelve week point and entering the second trimester is considered something of a landmark, the crew has certainly taken it as such. As well as accepting congratulatory expressions, Chakotay and I are now fielding off name suggestions from every crew member we encounter. B'Elanna has assured me that no one was offended when she and Tom rejected such proposals for Miral, so I am dismissing them for now, though I suspect Chakotay finds it amusing. He has relaxed somewhat in the past few days, which I am relieved to see though I wish I could happily share. It seems that my now daily checks with the Doctor are going to continue, despite his having no treatment for 'morning sickness', but I'll admit to being reassured that it is my adapting human physiology, rather than my Borg implants, which seem to be impeding my efficiency for the time being. Not that I am being permitted to work to my full capacity, the Captain has ordered me to merely focus on the MIDAS array transmissions today, with Icheb's assistance, but I suppose it will mean that I am able to read my Aunt's reaction to my pregnancy as soon as her reply to my letter has been received. End log.


"Doctor." Seven announced her presence simply as she entered Sickbay to see the Doctor heading towards his office carrying a wide tray of petri-dishes, "If I am disturbing you I can return later…"

The Doctor shook his head as he carefully set the tray down and turned to face her with a reassuring, but slightly strained, smile, "You're not disturbing me at all, in fact I could use a break from examining Vulcan neural tissue."

Seven winced sorrowfully, "Then you are no closer to discovering a new treatment for Tuvok's illness?"

"No closer than I was when he first told me of the symptoms, and that was over two years ago now." The Doctor replied sadly before reaching out a hand to guide her to the nearest biobed, eyes twinkling as he grasped hold of one of the sweeter aspects of being a physician. "Well, how are the two of you this morning?" he asked brightly before allowing a little concern into his tone, "It's not like you to attend your appointments quite so early in the day."

"There will not be two of us until my child is born Doctor." Seven pointed out drily, though seeing her hand drift unconsciously over her abdomen, any change in which was hidden by her long wool sweater over forgiving black leggings, softened the reprimand for the Doctor enough to let him grin at her unabashedly. "I thought I should report here early as…" She suddenly grabbed hold of his arm to steady herself as she tried to perch on the biobed, "…I am once again suffering from sensory aphasia."

"Twice in one week?" The Doctor commented as he picked up his medical tricorder, "As I've told you Seven, I'm not particularly surprised, it's most likely connected to the morning sickness and with her cybernetic systems trying to work in tandem with your human ones you're always going to be prone to it if something's off-balance, and pregnancy will certainly cause that." He began to hum along to the beeps of the tricorder as it scanned, "It will probably settle, along with the nausea, as the pregnancy progresses. I'd be surprised if it went on for another week…"

Seven stiffened as he stopped abruptly, another wave of dizziness slamming into her as she took a sharp, fearful, breath in. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." The Doctor assured her quickly, "Just a slight anomaly in your cortical array. Did you complete a full regeneration cycle last night?"

"Yes, a full six hour cycle and three hours sleep before that." Seven reported.

The Doctor's eyebrows arched up to his non-existent hairline. "Did you and Chakotay actually sleep during those three hours or…"

Seven narrowed her eyes at him, unimpressed by the less than subtle innuendo. "Doctor…" She began warningly.

"I'm just reminding you that I said no strenuous physical activity." The Doctor said defensively before becoming fully serious again, "You have such readings regularly, usually when you're tired or stressed; it's no wonder that it's showing itself now." He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, "It's always settled down before, so I'm not worried, but in an obstetrics situation we have to be especially vigilant. I'd run the extra scans right now but Tuvok's expecting me in a few minutes."

That was enough for Seven, "You should not disrupt Tuvok's schedule, it will distress him unnecessarily." If anything, this was an understatement, Tuvok had to cling to whatever sense of order he had now to retain his lucidity. The deterioration in his mental state had accelerated over just the past few months. Three weeks ago the Captain, though shaken to her core, had had to take the decision to relieve him of all duties. Harry, promoted to Lieutenant, and Chakotay had been covering his duties as Tactical Officer since that difficult day. Since her own duties had also been reduced, Seven had been trying to spend as much time with him as she could bear, she liked to think her own appreciation of logic soothed him as his slipped away, but in reality it was scant comfort.

"I'll schedule you in for the scans after I've done all I can for Tuvok for the day, but take it easy until then."

Seven exhaled a small sigh, "Chakotay and the Captain are conspiring to make sure I always 'take it easy'." She told him ruefully, but her tone wasn't without appreciation for her husband and her mentor, "Today I will be in Astrometrics relaying with the MIDAS array, and no doubt that Icheb will make sure he joins me there, despite the fact that as a new Ensign he needs experience beyond Astrometrics."

"I doubt it would be a good start to his career if he ignored his First Officer's request, or mine for that matter." The Doctor replied, "And besides…" He added with a soft chuckle, "I don't think it's a bad thing for a 'god-brother' to be a little overprotective."

Seven smiled, blinking back sudden emotion. "I'll need to suggest that prospective title to him, he'd like that." She slid off the biobed and stood more confidently, "Contact me when you are ready to run the scans."

"I will." The Doctor assured her as he gathered up the medkit carrying Tuvok's specific arsenal of medications and followed her out of the door.


"I would be…honoured." Icheb murmured thickly, the shy smile playing across his lips making Seven see the boy she'd saved and tried to nurture rather than the upright young Ensign standing before her now. He stood taller than her, and had broadened out with muscle since the sparring sessions with Chakotay, undertaken at first as Starfleet combat training, had become a regular hobby. "If you believe that the Commander would also approve…"

"He will." Seven told him confidently, "But we will keep it between the three of us until the baby is born."

Icheb instantly guessed what she was getting at. "You think other crewmembers will vie for similar positions?"

Seven smirked, "If their sense of entitlement over my child's name is…" The sentence stuttered to a halt in her throat as her head gave such a throb of pain that she gasped. When she grasped the console for support, her eyes told her there were four consoles wobbling in front of her.

Icheb gripped her arm anxiously, "Seven?"

"I'm…I'm fine." Seven assured him quickly as the world around her settled as quickly as it had become erratic. Still, she willingly stepped away from the console. "Perhaps you should lead this task."

Icheb nodded in relief, "Of course." He agreed swiftly, moving forward to take her place at the central console, his eyes flicking between that and the reams of data rolling down the main screen.

Seven had barely begun to move back to lean against the wall when the door opened to allow Naomi Wildman to sweep comfortably in. She'd also had another growth spurt recently, though she wasn't yet nine years old her Ktarian/Human hybrid physiology made her physically and mentally in her pre-teen years and already clamouring to begin the Starfleet Academy courses Icheb had already completed. Sometimes it frightened Seven how quickly time seemed to pass, irrational through the feeling was. How long would it be before Miral Paris, and then her own child, would reach a similar stage? Yet, the smile Naomi gave her was still girlishly open, "Hello Seven, I thought Icheb was dealing with the letters and calls to the Alpha Quadrant today?"

"I prevailed upon the Captain to allow me some level of useful activity." Seven replied drily.

"She's tired." Icheb interjected, "As soon as the Doctor as attended to Tuvok she will report to Sickbay."

Seven tilted her head at him slightly to meet his eyes as her brows rose in questioning amusement. "Yes, sir."

Icheb however was unrepentant, though his face reddened. "I am merely suggesting that that would be the most prudent course of action."

Seven regarded him fondly, dropping her teasing façade as her head gave another thump in correlation to his words. "Agreed." She conceded quietly.

Naomi looped her arm through Seven's companionably, despite Seven's social advancement through the years her first friend was still one of the people most at ease with the ex-drone. "You're okay though right? Neelix will want to know when he calls."

"You can give him a positive report of my progress." Seven told her warmly.

"Good, and I'm glad you'll be here to talk to him today too because the last time he spoke to me he was compiling a list of names for you and Commander Chakotay to consider. He said a Talaxian name would give the baby a 'taste of his culture'."

"I think this crew has been given enough tastes of Talaxian culture, particularly cuisine, for Seven to teach her child about without giving them a Talaxian name also." Icheb remarked wryly, making Naomi giggle.

"I think I will need to remind Mr Neelix that he already suggested a name for my future children some years ago." Seven recalled, earning intrigued glances from Naomi and Icheb.

"Really?" Naomi asked eagerly.

"What was it?" Icheb pressed, immediately backing Naomi up.

Seven sighed even as a nostalgic smile pulled at her lips, suddenly feeling regretful that she had dismissed the comment so utterly then. "He once advised me that I may like a few Seven of Nine point fives running around me one day."

Icheb was dubious, "He wasn't serious, was he?"

"I highly doubt it." Seven replied firmly.

Naomi however was grinning, sufficiently tickled by the idea. "That would be such a cute nickname though…" She enthused, turning back to Seven for support but her voice instantly faltered as she looked up at her friend's face. "Seven, your nose is bleeding…"

Seven's suddenly vague eyes fluttered open and closed as her fingers slowly drifted up to her top lip and indeed felt blood. "Wh…" She tried to slur out just as her legs collapsed beneath her.

"Catch her!" Icheb cried out as soon as he saw her eyes dramatically roll back into her head, blue streaks of electricity arcing through her facial implants. He and Naomi were both too late to stop the back of her head crashing against the floor as her body crumpled like a puppet whose strings had been abruptly cut. As Naomi, choking back panicked sobs, tried to cradle Seven's head in her lap, Icheb saw that blood was also trickling out of Seven's ears, even as the sparking in her implants began to die down. "Icheb to Sickbay, medical emergency in the Astrometrics lab, activate emergency transport!" He didn't pause to await a reply before slamming his hand against his comm. badge a second time, "Icheb to Chakotay…"

A/n: Please review.