Seven hadn't expected things to go the way they had. Her "research" in the holodeck had been just that. At first she had been inspired by The Doctor's use of the technology, creating for herself a small drawing room with a piano to practice her playing. She had found it in the ship's database and had hardly customised it.

Then, one day, as she'd played, she'd glimpsed her reflection in the shining surface of the piano. It had disturbed her. Her glaring implants, her constricting hairdo, her gleaming biosuit had seemed at odds with the relaxed atmosphere of the room. On a whim, she'd changed them all. She'd watched her reflection as she'd played. She'd seen herself, for the first time, completely human. Completely her. The Seven who had been so accepted as part of the community in Unimatrix Zero.

And then she had mused: what might happen if she could appear like this always? How would the crew interact with her? How would it change her interactions with them to be able to walk among them, as one of them? That had been her first mistake. She should have known that could never happen and left well enough alone. Instead she had taken the hypothesis: If I looked more human I could be more human. And she had tested it. And she had found it to be true.

She had never programmed the Chakotay holocharacter to be romantically interested in her. She had simply played a few scenarios. She had taken events that had really happened, recorded on the internal sensors, and analysed them with a scientist's keen eye. Then she'd inserted herself into them. Not as she had been, but rather as she should have been.

At Lieutenant Paris's "double feature" she'd neglected to take her place at the back with The Doctor, where she had examined the popcorn suspiciously and walked out early, declaring the experience "pointless". Instead she'd seated herself further forward. She had instructed the holodeck to compensate for her ocular implant and show the film as it would have appeared had she seen like any other human. She had, in the privacy of her holoprogram, delighted in the outlandish old Earth attempts at creating a holographic "3D" effect, at the terrible, terrible acting displayed. She had caught Chakotay's eye. He'd been at the end of the row next to Neelix, who'd been clutching his seat in abject terror. The commander had been chuckling not at the movie but at the Talaxian. And then Seven had been too. That shared laugh, across the cinema, had been the second mistake.

He had caught her afterwards as she was leaving and they had shared a brief conversation about quaint old Earth rituals and Tom Paris's taste.

"This used to be a traditional first date," the Chakotay hologram had quipped. Seven had raised her eyebrows.

"Did it often lead to a second date?" she'd asked, genuinely incredulous.

He had smiled, his eyes had creased and sparkled. That had been the first time she'd noticed how they did that.

"Apparently so," he'd said.

She should have left it at that. Even at the time, as she had watched him and the rest of the crew leave the room, she had known that. But she convinced herself she hadn't fully tested her hypothesis yet. She needed more evidence.

Perhaps she'd wanted evidence that she'd been wrong. Evidence that could disprove her hypothesis. And so instead of playing out a social scene, her next test was an ordinary day. A day that started in the mess hall – for it felt unrealistic to start it with a regeneration cycle. This day she was fully human, after all. She decided to continue on with the previous program – she had to measure over time for the experiment to be successful, she reasoned. That was her third mistake. If she had started an entirely new scenario, the holograms would have interacted with her no differently from how the crew did on a day-to-day basis. It would have been impossible to build new relationships, form new completely unrealistic bonds

As she came away from the replicator, Tom Paris waved to her from his seat beside B'Elanna, calling her over.

"Seven, perhaps you can settle this for us," he began without preamble. "My wife here believes that The Creature from the Black Lagoon is not at all scary under any circumstances."

Seven quirked her head slightly. He was clearly referring to the film they had watched as part of the double feature. Feeling the freedom that came with knowing one's actions have no consequences, Seven answered honestly.

"I believe she is correct."

B'Elanna slammed the table in victory, "I told you."

"What!" Tom seemed astonished. "Come now, you can't honestly tell me you didn't get chills down your spine when it's stalking her," he put on a deep, dramatic, voice "… under water… just about to grab her… she doesn't see it… it's only inches away…"

He made a grab for B'Elanna who squealed.

"Ah! You see!"

She punched his arm.

"If you are looking for a… comrade," Seven suggested to Tom, "You might wish to enlist the help of Mr Neelix."

She looked up at the counter where the Talaxian was busy dishing out food. The sound of his name drew his attention. Seven continued, "If I recall, he was practically climbing under the seat in front of him."

A grin began to spread across Tom's face. "Is this true?" he asked Neelix.

The cook waved a hand and began to argue.

"It's true," said a voice at Seven's ear. "I can attest to it."

She spun to find the Chakotay hologram standing behind her, holding his tray. He seemed to be battling to keep a straight face. His lips were slightly pursed. His dimples, however, belied him. And laughter danced clearly in his eyes.

"Well…" Neelix said. "I'm not as… desensitised… to your human entertainment as most of you might be. My idea of a good story involves daring adventure and overcoming of difficult obstacles. And happy endings."

"It did have a happy ending!" Tom said defensively. "The girl was saved!"

"After her colleagues were savagely mauled," Neelix said. Tom nodded as if he'd made a very good point.

"Coming or going?" Chakotay asked Seven. She blinked, registering his meaning.

"Coming."

"Me too. We should find a seat."

She had nodded slowly and followed him to an empty table, all the while thinking how odd this was… and somehow pleasant. She remembered when she'd first joined the crew, when all of them had been alienated by her… except a handful. She remembered how surprised she'd been when Tom and Harry had shown her kindness. She thought the crew had changed, but now she felt that same sense of surprise return. There was an old Earth story that Icheb had told her during his studying of Earth anecdotes. It was a horrible story, which is probably why she remembered it. It was about a frog that was boiled alive. It had been convinced not to jump out of the water because the heat had been turned up so gradually that the frog had not been aware it was cooking until it was too late. She found herself wondering, as she followed the holographic commander to the table and sat down opposite him, if she had become the frog. Yes, people's attitudes toward her had changed… but how much had they really changed versus her just becoming accustomed to them? Here on the holodeck their attitudes were warm and inclusive. Here, on the holodeck, she looked like one of them.

She swallowed a lump in her throat at the thought and the holographic Chakotay mistook it.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine." This may have been the holodeck, but she was no more fond of small talk here.

"How are you adjusting to life without the implants?" Chakotay asked conversationally.

She had programmed in that they had been removed recently, so that the holograms did not act surprised to find her this way. She inclined her head.

"It is… different."

"I can imagine," Chakotay said, and he unfolded his napkin and smiled warmly. "No more excessive strength and enhanced vision? You're a mere mortal now."

"A condition which is under-rated to say the least," she commented thoughtfully.

"Oh?"

She had no idea why she felt the need to open up to the hologram. Perhaps it was precisely because it was a mere hologram.

"When the Captain first separated me from the collective, I remember her promising that I would become part of a human collective. I believe her word was "community". Up until now, I have not particularly felt like a part of the community."

She looked up and found his expression clouded.

"Don't misunderstand me, Commander. I have felt… welcome. I have felt useful, needed even. But different."

"All birds, even those of the same species, are not alike," Chakotay said.

"I do not follow."

"It's an old saying of my people." He leaned in, the way he always did when he spoke about 'his people'. The North American Indians. "The spirits do not create any two beings alike. Our purpose is to be independent individualities."

He smiled warmly. "We're all individuals, Seven. I have tattoos. You had Borg implants. We're all unique in our own way. I shouldn't have to point that out to you, of all people."

"It's not the same," she said quietly. "You… you're all alike in basic ways. You sleep, you don't regenerate. You don't have to visit sickbay weekly to have your machinery aligned. You…"

And touched her hand then, stopping her mid-sentence. His hand was warm. She had to consciously remind herself she was only speaking to a projection of light, an image wrapped around a force field.

"I understand it's been difficult," Chakotay said. "But that's all behind you now."

She blinked at him and then muttered, "Computer, end program."

There'd been a beep and she had stood as the holodeck lines formed around her and the commander disappeared. She'd wiped a hand over her face, regaining her composure. She had decided then and there that enough was enough. She'd straightened her back and walked out.

She'd returned, however.

Despite all her best intentions.