"I feel bad for the guy," Tom said as he slid into his spot in the mess hall. "I mean, if anyone would be perfect for him on this ship, it'd be her."
"Except it's not," Harry shot back from his spot across the table from the pilot. "And you want to make fun of me for going after the wrong girl…"
"Hey, at least Chakotay never tried to climb an unstable scaffold in the hopes of impressing anyone," Paris shot back with a grin.
"No, but he did try to blow Seven out of an airlock, or did you happen to forget that part?" B'elanna licked the back of her spoon and crinkled her nose in disgust. "Didn't Neelix say this was pudding?"
"He said it was pudding like." Harry sniffed his spoon and dropped it back onto his plate. "Well, I, for one, haven't forgotten how many times the commander's tried to get rid of Seven."
"To be fair, she was a drone trying to force us back into Borg space to be assimilated at the time," the sandy haired man countered, waving his spoon in the air for emphasis. "I mean, it's a solid argument to say he was only trying to keep the ship safe."
"Oh yeah, what about after Seven was separated from the Collective?" Picking up his fork, Kim cautiously poked at the meat looking thing on his plate, oddly relieved to find it didn't move or make some kind of sound.
"Harry, she did try to get us assimilated at least three times after she was yanked from the Collective. Tom's got a point." B'elanna shrugged. "Chakotay's motivations could've been completely pure. It's his job, after all, to protect the ship."
"Of course," Tom added while he sawed away at his piece of meat, "that time he came close to throttling Seven after she bested him during Neelix's last party because she won that dinner with the captain probably wasn't as pure of a motive."
"Oh yeah," the ensign said with a nod and a shrug. "I almost forgot about that."
B'elanna sniffed disinterestedly. "It's like watching one of Tom's soap operas. Will they? Won't they? Who is going to beat up who over the damsel who isn't in distress? Tune in and find out on the next episode of 'As the Spaceship Warps."
"Sounds like an interesting holoprogram!" Neelix's voice caused the three officers to jump in their seats. "What's it about?"
"It's uh… not." Tom gave everyone a sheepish look. "B'elanna was just making fun of something Harry and I've been watching."
"On that 'TV' thing you have in your quarters?" The Talaxian leaned back on his heels and rested his hands on his stomach. "I've never understood your interest in that thing. Where's the entertainment?"
"You'd be surprised how entertaining some of the things we watch on this ship can be, Neelix," Paris replied with a wink at his compatriots. "Anyway, what brings you over?"
"I thought I'd come by and see how everyone is liking the Tuntsian Pudding." The chef gave a huge grin. "It was one of my favorites growing up as a boy."
"It's uh…. Interesting." Harry picked his spoon up again and gave the worst smile of his life as he forced some of the pudding into his mouth. "Mmmm."
"I'm glad you like it." Wiggling his fingers in thought, Neelix took in a hesitant breath. "Also, I was wondering if maybe one of you could help me with a little problem?"
B'elanna rolled her eyes. "You're not attempting to make cheese again, are you?"
"Well, no, nothing like that exactly." The short being glanced nervously around the officers' table. "It would seem that I've run out of coffee rations for the week for…"
"No." Tom quickly cut in, pushing back from the table, and holding both hands up in the air. "There is NO WAY I'm giving up my allotment of credits for her coffee addiction, Neelix. I need those credits. B'elanna and I have a date in two days."
"Don't look at me." The engineer in question shrugged. "I ran out for the week yesterday. What?" She look over to find the two men eyeing her curiously. "I had a banana pancake need."
Harry sternly shook his head in the negative. "You can't have mine, either. I'm saving up for a new clarinet."
"She can drink the stuff you make just like the rest of us who are in a pinch," Paris said, crossing his arms rebelliously. "She can suffer with the rest of us."
"Now, lieutenant," Neelix intoned admonishment, "do you really think it's wise for her to go without coffee for three days in a row? Do you remember the last time that happened?" Everyone at the table visibly winced.
"Look, I get it. Really, but Tom's right. She made the rules. She'll just have to follow them unless you can get some schmuck to give up their credits." B'elanna shrugged. "Or we can take up a collection. If everyone on the crew donated something, it might tide her over."
"That's probably not the greatest idea. We did that once way back in the first or second year. I can't remember which." Harry groaned as he recalled his personal month from hell. "What I do remember is that the senior staff lost holodeck privileges for a month."
"Yeah, let's not do that again." Tom glanced around the room, looking for an easy mark to help with the situation. His eyes fell upon Chakotay, who had rolled in for an early lunch. "I bet Chakotay would give up a few credits for the Captain."
"I bet he won't," B'elanna countered, thinking of how rough her friend had been the night before. "But you know who would?" All expectant eyes turned to her in question. "Seven."
"Oh, you know," Neelix's eyes light up, "I bet she would. Would you all mind watching the kitchen while I go talk to Seven?"
"Nope, go right on ahead," Harry said, standing to walk over to the counter and peer in, glancing over a pot with a lid close to falling off. "What's in there?"
"Oh, that's the rest of the protein. Just smack it down with the wooden spoon there if it starts to crawl out again." Leaning in, the Talaxian offered confidentially, "Rigilian meat has a habit of trying to escape after it's been sitting for a while, you now."
"Okay, I'm eating bread until after our date," Tom declared as he pushed back from the table with disgust, ignoring his girlfriend's chuckles.
"Neelix." It was neither a question nor an invitation of welcome. In fact, it was just the opposite. Seven had no time to deal with the Talaxian. Several reports were due to the captain by the end of her duty shift, and, speaking of the captain, Seven was still trying to decide her next course of action regarding her growing list of questions about the older woman's behavior.
"I'm sorry to interrupt you, Seven. I realize you must be busy," Neelix stammered, shifting his weight from foot to foot, "but I was wondering if you could assist me with something."
Not bothering to look up from her work, she asked crossly, "What is it?"
"Well, you see, a situation has come up regarding the captain, and…"
Her full, piercing attention was abruptly on him, causing him to sputter on his words. "Is the captain hurt?"
"No," he said as he quickly shook his head and held his hands up in defense. "She's fine. She's just… she's just out of coffee."
Seven straightened her posture, realizing she'd fallen into a stance that would allow her to quickly leave if need be. "Coffee?" She didn't bother to let her annoyance stay off of her features. "And this is an emergency?"
"Well, I… I never actually said it was an emergency." He clasped his hands in front of him for a moment, looking for the right way to go about this conversation that absolutely had to happen. "I mean, I suppose I could argue that it might be an emergency. I mean, the captain is out of coffee, and we all know how unfortunate that would be for the entire crew if she continued to be out of coffee. As the morale officer, it's my job to make sure everyone is as happy as possible, and I can say with certainty that no one is going to be happy if the captain is unhappy."
"Or experiencing caffeine withdrawal," she commented dryly. "Why me?"
"Honestly," he let his hands fall back to his sides, drawing his face down into a look of defeat. "No one else will do it this week."
"And you assume I have credits I would be willing to supply to allow the captain to have her coffee for the remainder of the week?" The implant above her eye rose a few millimeters.
"If I had the rations, I'd do it myself, but I'm already out for the week." He held his hands up in a plea for help. "Will you at least consider it? It would really be a huge help to the entire ship."
"I'll think about it," she replied, turning back to her station.
Realizing that would be the best he would get, he turned and left feeling defeated, slightly panicked, and wondering if it was too late to board his ship and make a go at it alone again.
Janeway sighed irritably as she shifted around on her ready room's sofa. Lunch had been less than fulfilling. The so-called pudding tasted like something out of Voyager's gel packs, the meat started to move on her plate of its own accord, and, to top it all off, she was out of rations for coffee.
The idea of being without for the next three days was distracting her to no end. She was aware she had an addiction, but she hadn't realized it was that bad. Maybe the doctor was right. Maybe she should think of detoxing for a bit. Maybe the next three days were a blessing in disguise?
Maybe a wormhole would open up right in front of them and drop them off directly on Earth's doorstep within the next three hours.
She sighed, raking a hand through her hair. Who was she kidding? It was going to be a rocky next few days. What she needed to do was distract herself, and what better way than by working? Of course, it'd be easier if she were working on solving a problem as opposed to going over personnel reports.
These were about as engaging as one of the doctor's slide shows.
Tossing the PADD on the table, she stood up to pace. Maybe drinking the concoction Neelix created to substitute for coffee wouldn't be so bad? It's lumpy, a little on the cold side, and tastes a little like tar, but at least it's something close to coffee. What could be harm? The doctor could repair any damage the drink did to her digestive tract.
Most likely.
Probably.
She'd chance it.
Just as she started for the door, someone rang her chime. Straightening her tunic and settling back onto the sofa, she called out a gruff "come" while she attempted to stop bouncing from caffeine withdrawal.
Seven of Nine, in all her near six feet tall, silver clad amazingness strolled in carrying a carafe of coffee and a mug. "Captain, I understand you require coffee for the week," she coolly stated, humor dancing in her eyes as she watched the other woman's gaze follow the container in her hand. "I will happily supply you from my cache of rations if you will do something for me in return."
"Name it." The statement was out of her mouth before Janeway knew it, and, what's worse, she wasn't sure if I was because she wanted the coffee that badly or because she had the terrible habit of folding whenever Seven asked for something.
"I'd like to have dinner with you tomorrow night." The blonde set the mug and carafe on the coffee table before the captain. "Holodeck 2, an hour after your duty shift ends?"
"Dinner? Seven we have dinner together all the time." Janeway was already reaching for the coffee, looking for all the world as if liquid gold pressed latinum were flowing in her cup.
"True. However, for this instance, I require you to wear something other than your uniform." The ex-Borg waited for a response and was disappointed when no reaction occurred at all.
Instead, the captain slowly leaned back against the sofa, deeply inhaling the scent of the coffee, before taking a sip. "Alright," she happily replied. "What do you want me to wear?"
The blonde hadn't been prepared for this. She'd expected more resistance. "Something… emerald green."
The captain's eyebrows rose in surprise. "That's a very definitive color you have in mind. Any particular reason?"
"I feel it flatters your complexion and hair color," Seven flatly replied.
That caused the reaction she'd expected to receive the moment before. "Oh, well," Janeway stammered, moving quickly to hold her coffee between both hands. "Thank you, Seven. I hadn't realized you'd considered complimentary colors for individuals on the ship."
"I have not," the younger woman calmly stated. "I have noted them on you because it is rare to see you in anything but Command Red, which, although it is both my favorite color and one that flatters you, is something I wonder if you get tired of wearing. I'd like to afford you the opportunity to do something different."
"I see." Despite herself, Janeway could feel a smirk playing on the edges of her mouth. In any other circumstance, this would be flirting. Of course, it couldn't be flirting. She was the captain. Seven was a member of her crew, her student, and practically her daughter. Well, maybe not the last.
She found her eye wandering over the silvered curves of the catsuit in front of her.
Definitely not the last.
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she swallowed the lump she found in her throat. "Alright, it's a date." Internally, she winced. That had been a poor choice of words. "I'll see tomorrow after our shift."
Tilting her head in thanks, Seven gave just the barest hint of a smile. "I look forward to it, Captain."
Janeway watched her leave, admonishing herself for her eyes being glued to the younger woman's swaying backside. Were her hips swaying more than usual? No? Yes?
Why would she even notice?
Groaning at herself, Janeway picked the PADD back up and attempted the personnel reports, now in need of a distraction from something other than her lack of coffee.
A/N: Do you feel that? That's the scent of a J/7 awkward date ahead!