A/N: Sorry it took so long. Spring means antihistamines for me. That means my mind's too foggy for writing. Plus, the Borg mind is hard to decipher.
Quantum of Chaos
Chapter Four: Pandora's Box
Exiting Holodeck One on the heels of Captain Janeway, Seven of Nine stepped lightly beside her lover. She caught a quick glance from the woman, but they walked in silence. The ship, with its usual hums and clicks, served as a witness to the quietude.
Their disagreement left Seven of Nine feeling confused from the jumble of feelings cascading inside of her. She could not really separate the boiling emotions, much less name them or control them. They were kicking up recollections and, as Borg, Seven's memories were infallible. Today, they were also unwanted and mistimed.
As she walked beside the Captain, eidetic memories that should have been joyful were reminders of what she lost returning to Voyager.
=/\=
The Gweelee sun was rising in the west brushing the yellow sky with purple. Seven came directly from the restaurant at the end of her shift to the apartment rooftop where Mr. and Mrs. Commagees were celebrating their fortieth union anniversary.
Seven stepped to the door, easily the tallest person there. She scanned the room for her lover. Others waved and she returned the greetings, but kept searching. Finally she caught a glimpse of Kathryn conversing among a group of her friends, all law enforcement officers.
She slowly picked her way toward the woman, managing to greet some of the restaurant clientele, chefs and their families along the way. All told, it took her approximately thirty-point-seven minutes to cross the rooftop and retrieve beverages for her and Kathryn. Officer Byth Apoda made a humorous comment because Kathryn chuckled quietly but her indigo eyes followed Seven closely as she traversed the rooftop catlike and elegant.
Kathryn's auburn hair was long enough to pile on top of her head, held by a silver star clip that Seven had given her. Stray strands spilled out around her face, twisting along her temples to frame her sun-kissed face. Her blouse was sleeveless, unbuttoned seductively low. Her brown skirt was long, fitting along her curvy body. Quite provocative, Seven thought. She could not remember Pips looking so lovely. Clearly Starfleet uniforms were designed to obscure sex appeal, she decided. Seven stepped up to the small group, standing beside Kathryn. "Kathryn," she said, placing her hand at the small of her lover's back. The smile she received in return was brilliant. "Hello, darling," she said. Kathryn rocked to her tiptoes to kiss Seven full on the lips, heedless of the group of men. She chuckled at the measured look of surprise in Seven's eyes. "I missed you, Andy." Then Kathryn nestled against Seven, burrowing her shoulder into the side of her tall lover. Seven finally regarded the others when Byth cleared his throat. "Well, hello, darling," he said in an exaggerated mimicry, drawing out laughter from the other deputies. Seven flushed until she saw Kathryn laughing along. "Greetings," she said with a short nod. "However, I do not understand why you imitated my-my-" she glanced at Kathryn, who was smiling brightly with curious expression on her face. Seven blinked, committing the look to memory. Kathryn was relaxed, obviously enjoying some of Seven's co-workers and content in the open expression of affection. "Your what, Seven?" Byth asked. Seven turned to regard Byth Apoda, a tall, portly native with pale blue skin and yellow eyes. He bobbed his rhomboid head and his golden insignia of office glinted at his left breast over his pressed white uniform. "I do not understand your impersonation of my wife." She felt Kathryn press into her and she felt a distinct purr from the woman. The subtle encouragement gave Seven more confidence to speak openly of their love affair. "Yes, my...lovely...wife." Byth's snort ruffled the gills at his neck. "Never realized what a smooth talker ye are, D'puty." "You suggest my comment was empty flattery but they are not," she said, with an arrogant lift of the chin. But Seven's bewilderment grew when even Kathryn joined the merriment. "I think someone is trying to get She blinked, as her companions—including Kathryn—laughed louder. "I do not understand the role of luck in this...." The comment drew louder, heartier guffaws and then Seven felt a beefy slap on her back. "Maybe, ye'll get laid tonight," Byth said carefully before he took a sip of his kaybayhay, a native alcohol. Seven tipped her head and studied the law enforcement officer who had deputized her. Her expression was serious as she considered his words. "But of course, I will lie down for regeneration." Byth spewed out his drink, coughing profusely while the others mocked her. She glanced at Kathryn, who scratched the side of her nose even as a sheepish grin stretched its way across her lips. "Have I misspoken?" Byth cleared his throat. "Ye must be as pure as a mineral spring," he said dryly. "Shite and sassafras!" one of them coughed. He had the same blue skin and yellow eyes, but was much shorter. Seven was about to speak again, when she felt a warm hand on her arm. She looked down to find Kathryn's touch there. Then she gazed into eyes so gray they looked like sparkling granite. "They are teasing you, Seven," she whispered. "And what great sport it is!" another blue-skinned fellow yelled, lifting his mug. When he drank, they all followed suit as if the entire move was choreographed. "I do not understand, Kathryn," she said. "Explain it to 'er, Kat!" Byth said with a tip of his flagon. "Yeah, Kat. 'Splain it to us all!" one of them slurred. Kathryn's whisper tickled Seven's ear. "It's a play on words, darling." "Louder, darling!" one of the men grumbled. She forced a polite smile at the man, as she settled a hand on her hip. Kathryn pivoted to Seven, her expression turning to laser focus. "Laid is colloquial for having intercourse." "Oh, for the love of King Tryto! Use the juicy words!" One of the other officers garbled.
"Like—!" The second lad was elbowed by Byth.
"Have ye any sense at all, Shel? There are ladies present," Byth added, earning a grateful nod from Kathryn. Seven peered around at her near drunk and excessively mirthful comrades. Then she looked at her lover, who had paled during the discussion. "I did not realize that discussions on copulation could be so humorous." "Mrs. O'Nine!" Byth finally said. "How do you put up with her? Seven's so dry she probably farts sand!" The men guffawed loudly. Kathryn grimaced good-naturedly at the vulgarity while Seven's stoic expression remained firmly in place. "I think our friends have been swimming in too much kaybayhay," Kathryn noted. "Perhaps it's time we retire." Seven gazed around at her usually respectful coworkers and took Kathryn's hand, kissing the knuckles without losing contact with her coworkers' eyes. "It is time to regenerate," Seven pronounced to catcalls and whistles.
"Sure it is!" one of them hooted.
Kathryn laid her wrists on Seven's shoulders, letting her fingertips brush the woman's shoulder blades lightly. "It was all good fun, Seven. A little off color, perhaps. But I know they meant no harm." Kathryn lightly kissed Seven's lips. "Other than to tease you." "You do not mind the display?" Kathryn smiled rakishly. "Being Mrs. O'Nine has
Seven tugged Kathryn's arm as they made their way through the crowd. As they descended the stairs to the floor of their apartment, Seven stopped them at one of the landings. She whirled Kathryn around, taking her in both arms. "Kathryn," she said. "I apologize for my reaction—"
On Gweelee, Kathryn could be Kat O'Nine, Seven thought. But on Voyager I cannot be Seven Janeway.
"You will not allow me." Seven spoke aloud before she realized where she was and whom she was with.
"Seven?" Captain Janeway asked. "Did you hear what I asked you?
Seven blinked as she finally looked around. She and Captain Janeway had both stepped into the turbolift and the Captain was standing close to her. Seven again was struck by the tense set of her lover's shoulders and the small twin lines that parted her eyebrows.
Seven arched a brow. "I believe I was distracted."
Janeway nodded once, showing her renowned patience. "I was saying we'll get through this rough patch." Her eyes crinkled empathetically in a way that nearly melted Seven where she stood.
She opened her mouth to speak, but matching verbal sounds to the quagmire of emotions was impossible. To feel rejected by Kathryn had done more damage to her sense of balance than Seven realized. Soothing herself had always been complicated. But in a maelstrom of conflicting emotions, it was futile.
She felt Kathryn's stare but faced forward, the picture of detachment.
"You believe that. Right, Seven?" Something in Kathryn's expression pulled Seven out of the internal turmoil.
"My feelings have radicalized," she admitted, continuing to look straight ahead. Seven heard Kathryn's erratic respiration but could not access the emotional data she needed.
"Computer, stop lift."
A chirp and a soft flutter in her stomach told Seven the lift was motionless. She opened her eyes to find Kathryn very close, watching her with a concerned look.
"Seven?" she whispered. "Talk to me."
"I cannot—I am having difficulty—"
A chirp echoed in the small confines of the lift, followed by the voice of Commander Chakotay. "Captain, are you all right?"
Seven came to attention, facing the duranium-composite sheeting of the turbolift door.
Kathryn let her head lob forward in exasperation. "I'm fine, Commander," she said.
"It's just we've received reports ship-wide that turbolift two was inoperable and the computer said—"
"Yes," she replied. "I understand. I'm fine and so is the lift."
"But—""That is all, Commander," she said with the full whip of command. "I'm on my way to sickbay. I'll meet you on the bridge after that."
"Very good, Captain."
Seven watched as Kathryn struggled with turning off Captain Janeway. The woman stood erect, tugging her tunic down. The worry lines that parted her brows returned but her expression softened. She stepped closer to the Borg, as her hand fell to capture Seven's hip.
Seven closed her eyes as her thoughts careened wildly. She desired to be elsewhere, dealing with something manageable like an Astrometrics report on the new class of nebula they were currently in.
"Don't shut me out, darling." The whispered words tickled her ear, stirring the unmet needs Seven tried to block from her consciousness.
"Kathryn," Seven replied softly.
"Trust me."
Seven shuddered. That was an order she had submitted to long ago, before she realized that she was in love with the woman. Love! Before Voyager, it was a four-letter abstraction largely deemed irrelevant by the Collective. Sentiments as irrational as love were inefficient. But now, Seven of Nine could function without oxygen before she could relinquish love. But if love were to evaporate in her hand, then what?
Seven's eyes snapped open. "I would rather die."
Kathryn stumbled back from Seven, her face pale as if the Borg had struck her.
Seven felt confused for a moment, lost in the myriad of thoughts that she found difficult to classify. "Kathryn?" she asked weakly.
"Computer, resume!"
Both women lurched slightly when the lift began its descent. Seven floundered as she struggled to explain the conflict between her internal musings and their external dialogue, but words remained elusive. "I have erred," she said.
Kathryn continued to stare at the lift controls, her face implacable.
The lift dinged and the door slid open. Kathryn spoke without regarding her lover. "Remember what I expect." She glared up.
Seven arched an eyebrow at Kathryn. "I expect professionalism. Keep our private issues…." She slowly turned to glare up at the taller woman. "Private."
Seven floundered for a reply, though outwardly she appeared to be perfectly poised. "Nor did I expect that we would resolve our conflict during a short turbolift ride."
"Me neither," Kathryn growled, exiting the lift without her Astrometrics Officer.
Seven stared uncomprehendingly at the spot where Kathryn had stood. In some ways, this dynamic was not new. They were known jokingly around the ship as "oil and water" because their relationship had always been somewhat adversarial. But since they'd become lovers, they'd never quarreled. Seven did not realize how frail their relationship truly was until this moment.
Seven made a mental note to perform a diagnostic on her Borg systems. Perhaps that would explain her inability to articulate properly. Perhaps she should consider returning to the Borg Alcove to regenerate. Then Seven considered her lover's state. She was functioning without coffee, a distinct disadvantage. Perhaps she was more injured during the attack than the Doctor realized. Or perhaps Kathryn's prickly sensitivity was a symptom of the pregnancy. She planned to make an inquiry at the next opportunity.
=/\=
With her emotions completely submerged, Seven was battered with more alarming data. She felt herself blanch and saw Captain Janeway's jaw muscles jump as the Doctor, along with his holographic colleague, summarized a report they just completed.
"Let me make sure I understand this, doctors," the Captain said. "All of the children on board are growing at accelerated rates?" Janeway shared a look with Seven.
One of the identical holograms nodded, adding: "The growth is inversely proportional, meaning that the younger the child, the faster the growth."
"Yes, but I caution you both. It's a numbers game," the other medical hologram said. "Statistically speaking, an inch for Icheb is less significant as a percentage of the whole than say for Naomi or even Dani."
"But it is not just height or weight, as you stated earlier," Seven asked.
"No, of course not. It's total growth. Height, weight…" The Doctor shared a significant look before he said: "Puberty."
"They'll hit puberty sooner, rather than later?" Janeway groaned.
"If the current trends continue, yes."
Janeway's face contorted in frustration. "Why, Doctor?!"
He took a deep and unnecessary breath. "Our working hypothesis—"
"For both the crew's behavior, as well as the growth in the children," the other doctor clarified.
"Yes, they are most certainly linked," the Doctor said with a subtle pique as he glared at his colleague. "Our hypothesis is that these are all symptoms of the same stimulus or viral agent or outside force."
The other hologram blurted: "But, Captain, we need a stable power source—"
She held up a hand to silence the second hologram, keeping her gaze on the first. "Stimulus? Viral agent or outside force?" Janeway stopped and stared at the first doctor for a long minute.
The Doctor nodded once, waiting for a more incisive inquiry.
Janeway's face tensed slightly. "Doesn't that describe just about anything?"
"It's the best we can do at this—"
"Not acceptable, Doctor!" Janeway stepped up to him, leveling a glare that should have burned out his imaging processors. "Not acceptable by a long shot."
Captain Janeway pulled herself away, raising her hands to gesture at the larger medical facilities that Voyager enjoyed. "You have state-of-the-art equipment here, doctors. Even on the Delta Flyer you were able to find my ailment."
"That's because…!" The first doctor seemed startled with his own volume. "I'm sorry, Captain. I'm as frustrated as you—"
Captain Janeway whirled on her Chief Medical Officer. "Oh, I seriously doubt that. Not even close."
"The ship's systems are affecting diagnostics," the junior medical officer said. "When they take down the bio-neural gel packs, it means I—it means we can't perform diagnostics in sickbay."
Janeway eyed him carefully, before renewing her pacing. "Tell me what you know."
"Take Dani, for instance," he said, projecting her growth charts onto a three-dimensional chart on his desk. Both mothers turned, breathless, to spy the graphic information. "She's grown two inches in two weeks."
"That would account for her insatiable hunger for protein biomatter," Seven replied.
"It seems all of the children are experiencing a voracious appetite."
Janeway closely studied the upward trend over time. "Could whatever is affecting growth also stifle caution? Perhaps enhance risk-taking?"
"Perhaps," he said provisionally.
Seven considered the projections of their daughter's growth as well. The image flickered once. "Tell me, Doctor. Is the accelerated development of the children also affecting the unborn subunits?"
Janeway's eyes widened, a micrometer. Janeway's splayed hand covered her own middle. "What about the baby? All of them. All forty-five babies?"
"Forty-four," the younger EMH corrected, earning a blast of Janeway's unspoken frustration.
The older Doctor stepped closer. "Let's take a look. Shall we?" The medical tricorder whined its way up and down the Captain's middle. "Baby Girl Janeway has grown exactly half a millimeter since this morning," he said, reading the tricorder. Then he looked up, with a genuine smile on his face. "That means that she's growing normally."
"Doctor," Seven said in neutral. "Is the subunit in any danger?"
He shook his head, pursing his holographic lips. "The fetus seems normal in every respect. This is consistent with the other fetuses on board. Perhaps the placental barrier is limiting an organic exposure."
Janeway ducked her chin and resumed her pace. Seven noted that Kathryn slipped into an almost meditative pacing whenever she was disturbed. Her voice would drop and her arms would punctuate key words with aggressive slashes or stabs in the air. Seven's eyes followed the shorter woman as she traversed the Doctor's office several times.
"Captain, if I may?" Junior said, glancing uncomfortably at his colleague before beginning. "I can assure you, we have Voyager utmost in our minds. And I want it noted for the record that I am not a traitor." He glanced again at his colleague. "I put Doctor Gräfenberg in stasis—"
"I told you! That's not my name!"
"I'm sorry," Junior said, his glare saying otherwise. He turned to face the Captain, not registering her complete bewilderment at his sudden change of subject. "I put the good Doctor—"
"Wait a minute," the Captain said, leveling another flare of fury at the older hologram. "You leaked sensitive information about our situation?"
"I'm sorry, Captain," he said. "But we had to have a thorough talk and after reviewing his programming, I made the decision to trust him."
She inhaled sharply. "So it seems I must also." Janeway eyed him closely.
"And I don't think my trust in Dr. von Behring has been misplaced," the other doctor finally added.
Janeway blinked. "You've chosen a name?"
"Well, I'm giving it a test drive," he said, holding out a hand. "Galen von Behring at your service."
Janeway clasped the hologram's hand and shook once. "It has a ring, Dr. von Behring," the Captain conceded. "It's nice to see progress in one area of the ship."
Janeway crossed her arms over her chest. "Now that we are all on the same page, I want a solution, gentlemen. And I want it yesterday."
"Yesterday?" Dr. von Behring said incredulously. "That's imposs—"
The Doctor shook his head almost imperceptibly at his colleague before he continued. But the younger doctor did not understand the subtlety. "What? What about our power needs?" he asked shrilly.
Janeway noted that Dr. von Behring was significantly higher strung than the original doctor. She wondered again whether he had become truly sentient, as the first EMH.
"I'll speak to Engineering about it," she finally replied. "In the meantime—" Janeway pivoted back around.
"When can we can we expect—?"
"Dr. von Behring," Janeway replied. "I'll see what I can do. But I want you both working on this problem round the clock. Is that understood?"
"Yes, ma'am," they both replied in stereo.
=/\=
"Janeway knows." Chakotay's words echoed through the dimly lit shuttle bay.
The men and women around shifted uncomfortably. Chakotay had known many of them, having led them as their Captain aboard the Maquis ship, Val Jean. By the gods, he would lead them again.
There were new faces, welcome additions. Lt. Harry Kim stood beside his mates, Megan and Jenny Delaney. He considered Harry to be his finest transformation. The man was a walking paragon of violence. All it took was to get Harry to take down Ensign Molina, who'd defied Chakotay once too often during their six months of virtual incarceration aboard the U.S.S. Voyager. The acting Captain had entered the deadly altercation as an "operational accident."
Chakotay continued to weave his way among the group of one hundred and fifty men and women. Some were standing, others crouching. "You heard me right," he said. "Three of our own got a little antsy last night. Janeway thought she could sweep it under the rug. But they did their duty."
He stopped, turning on his heels. "That means we move our plan up." They were ready. He could feel it. "When I give the signal, Voyager will be ours again."
Chakotay smiled because that meant Seven would be his. Unlike the other slags he'd bedded, Chakotay was planning on keeping Seven for a long, long time. She would be his coup de grace for Captain Janeway.
He could separate the tight pair once and for all. He imagined he'd tell the woman that somehow the Captain and Eridani Janeway had gone missing. No one would be able to find them. The grief of losing that brat and her mentor would drive Seven into his arms.
Now he just had to decide the good Captain's fate.
His smirk vanished when the shuttle bay doors slid open. B'Elanna Torres sauntered in like she owned the whole damn ship.
"What are you doing here?" Chakotay growled, causing the men in the group to come to full alert. Some of the men marched toward.
She folded her arms across her chest and offered a sassy grin, completely unruffled by the testosterone choking off the air in the room.
"This is what I'm doing here." The Klingon's abrupt movements brought several phasers to bear on her. But all she did was tear her Starfleet uniform sleeve from the shoulder.
B'Elanna raised her arm, her muscles taut from a tightly fisted hand. Across her forearm was a crude tattoo drawn in red: "Live Free or Die."
"You gave me this damn tattoo when I first joined the Maquis. Do you remember?"
Chakotay lifted his chin. "I've always remembered. I thought you were the one who forgot."
"Maybe I did for a little bit. I was a little stir crazy." She let her arms drop and flung the sleeve over her shoulder in a cavalier move.
His face was skeptical. "What's changed?"
"Fucking Janeway. That's what! My husband is dying." She looked around at the faces of some of her friends and some of her enemies. Then B'Elanna settled on her former Maquis Captain. "Tom Paris is one of us and he is dying. And that bitch…!"
The force of the last word was so forceful, B'Elanna felt spittle rain on her chin. She wiped it with the back of her hand. "The moronic captain told the doctors to concentrate on her own daughter and those Borg spawn."
Tears welled in her eyes and she growled them back down, swallowing them in a raw throat. "Anyway," she said, blasting an expression of full Klingon hatred at Commander Chakotay. "I'd rather serve the bastard I know…."
Chakotay laughed first. Then the others followed suit. He eyed the half Klingon woman. "You're just in time. I have something very special for you to do."
"Kahless, Chakotay! Is this the bad-ass Maquis or did I confuse it with the kadis-kot league at the retirement home?"
Chakotay rubbed his nose once with a hand, laughing. "Get your bitch stick ready."
A sneer rippled across her lips. "Just say when?"
=/\=
After his duty shift, Chakotay made his way to deck three, followed closely by his right hand, Harry Kim. He knew the man had something unpleasant to say and he waited for him to have the balls to say it.
Just as he stepped off the turbolift, nowhere near his quarters, Lt. Kim cleared his throat.
About time, Chakotay thought. But he had no intention of making it easier.
"Commander," he said, deepening his voice.
Chakotay stopped just shy of the lift exit. "What is it, Harry?"
"Please tell me you don't trust, B'Elanna."
Chakotay studied the man. The nick on his right eyebrow and the scar running down his chin gave him a rough-hewn look, something he desperately needed. But the baby-face still loomed bright. "No, I don't," he admitted. "And if I did, there's still the matter of paybacks."
"And paybacks are tough."
"That's right," he added. "But that doesn't mean we can't use a traitor to get what we want. If she disposes of the Captain, then she can take the fall."
Kim nodded once. "What's your plan for me?"
Chakotay smiled, patting the man on his baby-fat insulated cheek. "You aren't very scary."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"Oh, no," he said. "For what I've got planned, it isn't. I just hope you are man enough."
"You know I am," he said. Harry frowned to hear the crack in his own voice.
Chakotay laughed from the belly and Kim felt his chest tighten. "Dammit," he whispered.
=/\=
Kathryn floated in that serene plane between the oblivion of sleep and the sensibilities of wakefulness. The earthen smell of the apartment seemed strangely comforting. The mattress was softer and the bedroom brighter than she remembered.
Seven's hand was loosely fisted and drawn against her bare belly. Kathryn could feel coarse hairs prickling her ass and delicious pink tips nudging into her back. In any second, the alarm would sound and her lover would jump out of bed to start her day at Mr. Commagee's restaurant.
Kathryn wiggled around. "Good morning, darling," she whispered without opening her eyes. Her lips found the soft, taut muscles of Seven's neck.
She felt long, sensuous arms snake under hers and tug her closer. She moaned when their breast tips pressed together. She slipped a knee between Seven's long legs to feel the velvety center already glossy with anticipation. Her mouth opened to welcome a kiss when the computer chirped. "The time is five hundred hours. Duty shift change due in one hour."
Kathryn jumped, her arms flailing out onto an empty bed. She bolted up, blinking at the stray strands tangled in eyelashes. She batted at her face as she looked around her own quarters. "This is the ship," she whispered hoarsely. "Voyager."
After any other dream, those words would have been consolation. Today, they were a sentence of solitary confinement; welts of aggravation and frustration jarred her from a yearning so profound that her subconscious mind had found a way to give her what she needed most.
Kathryn flung the sheet wide. Her pajama top was twisted and she angrily yanked it back and forth until it fell correctly over her body. She'd always loved her sleepwear, until she became accustomed to lying nude next to her lover.
"Computer," she husked as she scratched an eye. "Locate of Seven of Nine."
"Seven of Nine is in her quarters."
Janeway stole a one-eyed glance at the chronometer. Of course, Seven was in her quarters. It was five hundred hours after all. She rolled out of bed, grabbing her robe as she strode out of her quarters and across an empty corridor to stand before Seven's door.
When Seven of Nine opened the door of her quarters, her breath caught to see Captain Janeway, one hand resting on a hip and the other leaning on a bulkhead. Her robe was carelessly open and the belt hung nearly to the floor on one side.
Kathryn slowly lifted her chin. Dark rings circled the deep blues and small lines wrinkled her temples. "Captain," Seven said formally.
Kathryn's sleepy, crooked smile triggered a tsunami of tenderness in Seven's belly. "Can I come in, dar—."
Seven stepped away abruptly, gesturing toward the couch where Kathryn suddenly spied the back of closely cropped dark hair and bronze skin peaking out from a command uniform.
"I apologize," Kathryn said. "I didn't realize you had company."
Chakotay turned his smug expression in the Captain's direction. "I didn't realize you made house calls, Captain." He rose from the couch, an empty glass in his hand.
Kathryn blinked as her gaze quickly swept in the room. Three soiled dinner plates, a wine glass and a milk glass and crumpled napkins covered the small dining room table. A jumbled ball of silver playing rods for the Vulcan game kal-toh lay abandoned on the coffee table, along with a checkerboard and stacked red and black chips.
Seven remained in her blue biosuit, her hair hung lose about her shoulders, defiant blonde strands springing out.
Janeway heard Chakotay clear his throat and she slowly turned to see him, still completely in uniform. "Seven's bed head is adorable, don't you think?"
"Bed head?" Seven asked with an insulted overtone.
Janeway turned to her. Her voice was the perfect pitch of command to explain. "You're disheveled, Seven."
Seven's hand touched the top of her hair, the stubborn blonde strands bouncing back up after a quick rake of her hand. "How may I assist you, Captain?"
Janeway pulled her robe closed, cinching the belt tightly around her waist. "I was just wanting to check up on our daughter," she lied.
She saw Chakotay make a soundless "oh."
Seven's long silence was too long to be anything other than confusion.
"I'm assuming she's still in bed." Janeway glanced across the dimly lit room to Eridani's door.
"She is currently regenerating."
"Well," Janeway said, her equilibrium returning. "I am here to find out how she slept after the unfortunate incident in the holodeck."
"What unfortunate incident?" Chakotay asked with a hint of laughter.
"It seems the ship's younger crewmembers believe they are quite the—" Janeway stopped to stare at the Commander. "It was in the duty summary yesterday. Didn't you read it?"
"Not yet," he replied. "I've been dealing with other issues."
"Such as?"
Chakotay's eyes narrowed, letting Janeway know he heard the challenge in her voice. "Such as living quarters and workspace feasibility studies," he said, each word spoken as if they were merely reminders of what the Captain should know.
She scratched her head, a little discomfited. "You have more tasks to complete in the next few months than most First Officers in Starfleet have in five years."
"Well," he said. "It's a good thing you have me then."
He turned to wink at Seven, who responded by looking away.
Though Janeway knew the answer, she couldn't resist asking. "So did you two just start out early or…."
Janeway watched her lover's lips press together almost imperceptibly before she answered. "We have been reviewing long-range sensor sweep data," Seven said, as if that explained it all.
"We'll need additional seeds, crops and soil," he added, again with a bored tone.
"It required more time than we had originally allocated yesterday evening," Seven added.
"Especially when you have an attention-starved girl buzzing around the room," Chakotay remarked with a snicker.
The comment stung the Captain. Without her years of experience at the mediation table with warring factions, Janeway might have recoiled from the cunning accusation that she was an unfit mother. Instead, she wandered around the living room table, looking at the games and padds strewn across it. She picked up a padd, thumbing through the active page.
Janeway smiled at what she saw, turning it off and stacking it with the others. She glanced at her fingers, which had become tacky from something smeared on the padd. She rubbed her hand against her thigh. "Dani craves new activities and additional stimulus," she said offhandedly.
"Highly intelligent children usually do," Seven added with a customary lift of her chin. Then she turned to fully face Kathryn, giving Chakotay her backside.
A corner of Chakotay's lips almost curled, one of the mirth touching his dark eyes. "Okay," he said, drawing out the word a little too long for Janeway's taste.
Janeway waited another moment, convinced he was about to raise the issue of returning Dani to her original universe. She wasn't sure what she would do if he raised it just now, when her emotions were still so raw from the quarrel with Seven. But Captain Janeway knew one thing for certain: there was no way in hell she'd ever let go of Dani—or Seven!
Reinforcing her inner resolve, Janeway finally relaxed her shoulders. Before she could speak, she saw her First Officer walked to the replicator, touching the keypad. "Coffee, black."
He took the pale blue mug with steaming hot, inky liquid that appeared in the replicator alcove. Then Chakotay walked gingerly over to the Captain. "I understand you need coffee," he said.
She took the cup, but frowned. "I'm sorry?" she asked, inclining an ear.
"Your T-shirt," he said, nodding with a chin.
She spread her arms to see the pale pink top that read in bold, black letters: "I need coffee."
"Oh, yes," she said, looking down. "A gift…" Janeway was careful to meet his eyes. "…from our daughter."
The man went unreadable, but he watched her carefully. "Aren't you going to drink it?"
She looked at the liquid, its aroma singing its siren call to her. But the Doctor gave her strict orders to avoid it during the rest of her pregnancy. But the Captain couldn't very well explain that to Seven's ex lover.
"What's the matter?" he asked again.
But one swallow wouldn't hurt. Carefully avoiding Seven's eyes, Janeway touched her lips to the mug and tipped her head slightly. The pleasure she felt from the hot fluid running down her throat was genuine. "Good stuff."
Chakotay continued to stare at her and halfway through another long draught, Janeway finally registered the query in her First Officer's eyes. But to address it directly would be a major tactical error. So she did what all good diplomats do. She hedged. "What?"
"Oh, I was just curious that a Captain would be strolling down a corridor." He turned an incisive gaze to Seven. "In jammies. On a school night."
Janeway thought she saw wariness flicker in the pale blue eyes, just as it had in her own. Janeway decided humor was the best tool. "Well, Commander, since when do I sleep?"
A small dimple deepened at Chakotay's cheek.
She stabbed the inside of her cheek with a tongue, looking up as if thinking. "I suppose I could sleep in my uniform," she mused, fixing the collar of her robe. "Would save time, not to mention storage space." Janeway projected a bright smile. "Or I can trust my Bridge Officers to remember that my jammies do not necessarily infer that I'm asleep at the wheel."
Janeway felt a chill sweep the room when Chakotay's expression iced up. "No, of course not, Captain," he said, letting his big hands drop to his side. "It's just that I've never gotten a nocturnal visit from you."
She concentrated hard on keeping her face placid and her shoulders loose. "No, you haven't," she admitted casually. "Nor have you ever fathered my child."
Just as he opened his mouth, Seven added: "Nor are you the primary custodian of said child."
His thumb brushed the corner of his mouth and then he nodded. "You're right," he said with a gust of laughter. "But it doesn't matter anymore."
Janeway felt warning klaxons sound in her mind at the offhanded remark. He took a padd lying on a sofa cushion and started toward the exit. "Thank you, Seven," he said, turning before he left. "You're a delight to work with, as always." Then his warmth vanished. "Captain," he said, as farewell.
After he'd gone, Seven walked silently to the table and began stacking the dirty dinner dishes. The clinking of porcelain was the only sound.
"What were you and Chakotay doing all night?"
Seven stopped to look up, but resumed her activity without a comment.
Janeway inhaled, scratching her eyebrow. "I'm—I'm sorry, Seven," she said softly. When Seven still didn't reply, Kathryn took the half-filled coffee mug to the replicator.
She waited further, hoping Seven was merely collecting her thoughts. "You're angry with me," Kathryn finally offered.
Seven lifted a brow and the Borg occipital piece, walking the glasses and silverware to the replicator station in silence.
Janeway stood with arms crossed as Seven turned away from recycling dirty dishes. Seven looked down at the redhead. Janeway knew that the bland expression was a dodge. It had to be. No one was that unfeeling.
Janeway pressed her lips together, allowing the sweetness of her dream to saturate her. She raised her hands in surrender. "You were right," she admitted, hoping to draw Seven into a dialogue. "I've deliberately avoided any circumstance where we'd be exposed as a couple here on Voyager."
Seven studied her for a long moment. Then she sidestepped Kathryn, making her way to the table.
Janeway stared at Seven's retreat. "You're giving me the silent treatment?"
Seven stopped, her hand midway to a spoon. She looked up at the opposite wall. "I have not had an opportunity to process the intuitive reactions nor to analyze them." Then she resumed her tidying.
Janeway splayed her hand on the green cloth placement Seven was about to take up from the tabletop. "Please don't shut me out," she said.
"I—"
"Cappie, why aren't you dressed?"
Janeway strangled an exasperated groan in her voice. She and her lover both turned to regard the tousled haired child rubbing her eyes across the room.
"Eridani," Seven said. "It is not time to consume ante meridiem biomatter."
Dani crinkled her forehead. "I heard Cappie's voice and thought she was here to pick me up for our jog around deck seven."
Seven turned a questioningly look to her lover.
"It's part of the consequences of their little holodeck incident," Kathryn explained.
Dani's eyebrows crunched together. "You're still going with us, right?"
Janeway tipped her head, regret etched around her eyes. "Actually, Ensign Biddle volunteered for that duty."
Dani's face fell and her shoulders sagged. Janeway felt her own stomach lurch at her daughter's palpable disappointment. "I never said I was going to run your PT training, Dani."
"Oh." Dani looked down, her eyes scanning the floor, while brushing at her eyes.
"Eridani?" Seven asked, setting the placements down. "Do you require assistance?"
"I was…." The eight-year-old dropped to her knees and turned her head toward the couch and away from her parents. She laid her cheek on the floor and cleared her throat. Again, she brushed her eyes. "I was looking for my shoes," she explained.
Seven raised an eyebrow at her lover. Janeway knew there was both displeasure and frustration in that action, but at least she wasn't ignoring her again.
Seven stepped over to the seating area, reached under a chair and withdrew a pair of simple single-strapped blue shoes with heart-shaped buckles. "Are these the shoes in question, Eridani?"
She sniffled under the couch, before she slowly rose to her feet. Her mothers noted the red-rimmed eyes as she took them. "I forgot something in my room," she said quietly, running back through the sliding door that connected from the living area.
"I must assist her," she said, in Janeway's general direction.
Kathryn watched Seven's sinuous length advance toward Dani's room. Seven slowed as she approached the door and finally stopped just shy of it, giving a half turn. "I believe we should continue our discussion later."
"I'd like nothing more," Kathryn said, smiling weakly. She was faintly disheartened when Seven did not react.
When she was alone, Kathryn closed her eyes and pounded her fists on her hips. She let her head loll back and rolled her shoulders. "Damn," she muttered.
