A/N: First of all, thank you to those of you who've been kind enough to leave reviews. They mean a lot. My apologies for taking so long. I wrote myself into a corner and it took a while to think my way out of it. Hope you enjoy it.

Revised: 9-27-11. I goofed and forgot Seven was supposed to be bald. My bad. Thanks to Misdirection for catching that.

Living Daylights

Chapter 6: Fearful Asymmetry

For a split second, Captain Kathryn Janeway wanted to be merely a woman. One who could express her fears like any other with a cry and sob on the unconscious shoulder of her dear spouse. But the Captain she was trained to be knew that none of that would ultimately save Seven of Nine.

Rigorous Starfleet training took over. Nearly on automatic, Janeway searched for Seven's carotid artery. The rhythmic thumping she found did little to reassure her because Seven was still unconscious from mysterious atmospheric feedback.

Mark Johnson, the man who would have been her husband had circumstances been different, squatted beside her while his hand kept a firm grip on the collar of the Irish setter beside him. "Is she okay, Kathryn?"

"I don't know," she replied. "But she's alive."

She took a deep, calming breath and stood up, wiping a sleeve against her sopping brow before unzipping her jacket. Then she tugged the sleeves down and methodically folded it.

Janeway crouched beside the prone figure of her spouse and gingerly raised her head, pillowing the jacket there She looked around, her head tipped in one direction.

"What are you listening for?" Jaffen asked quietly as she came to stand beside her.

"I want to make sure there are no more wild cats out there."

Mark patted Mollie's head, her tongue hanging out as he held onto her collar tightly. "She'll let us know," he said.

Janeway searched Mark's face. It was nearly identical to the one in her memories, except the man before her now had faint lines fanning around his eyes. His voice seemed to match but she could not trust Q and his games.

Feeling the scrutiny, Mark looked down at Seven. "What are we doing here, Kathryn? And who is the woman on the ground?"

Kathryn looked tenderly at the apparently sleeping Borg. "This is Seven of Nine. She is a member of my crew." She nearly clucking her teeth at the dark smudges that streaked across the bald pate of her wife's head. Seven would be displeased to be so untidy, Kathryn thought ruefully. She brushed Seven's cheek with the back of her hand before pushing herself back to standing. She looked back at Mark. "Seven is also my wife."

His dark brow shot up. "Wife." The quiet tone belied the surprise.

Janeway felt the tug of affection for the man. Could she feel like this while her spouse lay dying? The question infuriated her and she clamped down hard on the feelings. They had no place here. Mark was more than likely merely a puppet, animated by a scorned Q. But perhaps the tool knew something of the game. "What are you doing here, Mark?"

Before he could answer, the tall, darkly handsome figure of Kashyk asserted himself. "I really hate to spoil the lovely reunion." He pointed the business end of his Devore phaser at Janeway's head. "But we really must be going. Now Kathryn, let's find your ship. Shall we?"

"Sorry," she said in a tone that said otherwise. Her look of contrition was tempered with a hint of mockery. "Ship's out of reach, Kashyk."

Kashyk worked his jaw, as he stared at her. He tried unsuccessfully to reach his crew on his communicator device, all the while leveling Janeway and the two men with his Imperial phaser. "I don't understand," he finally said.

Janeway looked in turn at each man. "You could be merely delusions that Q's conjured from my past," she said mildly. "But if you are really you, then you've all been kidnapped and brought to the edge of the Milky Way galaxy."

"Why?" Kashyk snapped.

She shrugged a shoulder. "The whim of an omnipotent being."

Jaffen kept his eyes on Janeway. "I think you know there is more to this, Kathryn." He gestured to Mark. "As I recall, he's your fiancé."

"Ex," both she and Mark said together. They eyes held each other's for a second too long before Janeway looked away.

"I'm your ex-lover…." Jaffen carefully turned to Kashyk. "So that would make you one as well?"

"Heavens, no," Kashyk said. "Though she seems to change lovers like most people change shirts."

Janeway glared at the man who had tried to use her affections to betray her. It had seemed so long ago when Voyager was traveling through Devore space with several illegal empaths on board. They'd made it through without losing a single person, but it came at a great personal cost. Though she had felt a genuine connection to the man, her instinct never trusted him. She'd shared a few intimate moments with the man, a kiss, a brush of the hands and a wistful embrace. At the end of the day, Voyager was safe; but Janeway was alone and thought she would remain so. Now she just wish that she were, alone with Seven.

"Let's focus our energy on getting off of this rock," she said, brushing a forehead with a sleeve of her undershirt. She looked up. The blue sun's heat was nearly unbearable.

=/\=

Seven sat up. "Kathryn," she said, to the figure kneeling beside her. She watched as Kathryn's hand seemed to reach through where she thought to sat. She looked down to see her own face asleep. The surprise energized her to her feet. Only then did Seven realize she felt nothing of the natural world. No force of gravity holding her in place. No heat from the dying blue sun.

She tried to touch Kathryn's shoulder, but her ethereal hand slipped below the planes of the Captain's body. "Captain Janeway," she snapped more forcefully.

"She can't hear you."

Seven's turned to see a smug Q decked in a Starfleet command uniform. "What have you done, Q?" she asked pointedly.

"I?" he asked with a bit of dramatic flair. "I've saved your life. If it weren't for me, your body would be cold right now, the result of the plasmic discharge."

Seven's eyes spotted the phaser among the vines by her hand and the body of a dead veeber caw nearby. "I remember."

"It was really foolish, considering you knew what would happen."

Seven lifted her chin to look Q in the eye. "Still knowing, I had to protect Kathryn."

Q rolled his eyes.

"Reunite me with my body," she demanded.

Q clasped his hands behind his back and he began to walk around her. Seven noted that he was nearly transparent also. A simple glance at her hand confirmed that they both were, yet they remained on the moon's surface with Kathryn.

"Seven," Q whispered. "Seven of Nine." He let the words roll off his tongue. As he circled her, he glanced at her form, his eyes coming to rest on her bald pate. As if he'd reached a decision, Q came to rest in front of her. "I took Jean-Luc to the past once."

"Is that where you will take me? To my past where you will bore me with what could have been had I not been assimilated?"

Q grimaced at her comment, but surprised her with a non sequiter. "You may remember him as Locutus." He gestured toward her bald head, as he thoughtfully rubbed his chin. "He's bald, as well. I wonder if it's a flaw in the Borg genome."

Seven let her brow rise slightly. "Is there a relevance to this discussion, Q?"

Q's eyes became distant as he spoke. "Have you ever wondered why a Frenchman speaks with an English accent?"

Seven pointedly arched a brow. "Considering your aimless banter, perhaps you should replace me back in my body so that I may face my—"

"There!" Q said testily after he'd snapped their fingers. A flash of light encompassed them and the scenery changed. "Humans are like brats. They can never live in the moment. Always thinking about the future." Q lifted his arms, as Seven surveyed her surroundings.

The harsh jungle-like conditions of the moon had melted away into an idyllic scene of lush, shady trees and a thick carpet of green. She could hear the Rana catesbeiana croaking beside a still pond. The countless limbs of the Magnolia acuminate swayed nearby. And under it lived a yellow, three gabled house.

When Seven remained silent, Q finally turned to study her. "Well?"

She turned her attention away from her surroundings, studying Q intensely. "Well, what?"

"Aren't you going to ask me where we are—or more precisely when we are."

Seven again scanned the pond, the Magnolia tree and the house again. "I will not."

Q rolled his eyes and he lifted his arms as he announced with all the haughty pomp he could muster: "This is your future."

Seven glanced up at the sky and spied a soaring hawk, its cry echoing below. "It is a lovely M class planet."

Q finally crossed his arms. "Borg!" he barked through grinding teeth. "This isn't just any M class. It's Earth!"

Seven's face remained indifferent as she clasped her hands behind her back. "I will have to accept your conclusion since I have no means of independent verification."

Q ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "How ever does Kathy put up with your boorishness?"

Seven tipped her head. "If you return us to her, I am sure Kathryn would be pleased to answer the question for you."

He growled as he snapped his fingers again. They were inside a large bedroom, dark wood planks floored the length of it. A poster bed nestled against a pale brown wall between two large windows. Sheer white curtains ruffled in the breeze.

Hanging on a wall near the bed was a self-portrait of Leonardo DaVinci and, on a table below it, was a bronze sextant, used in ages past to navigate Earth's seas.

There were two high back chairs, both Starfleet red, arranged in front of a dark fireplace. The small side table between the chairs was stacked with padds. Above the mantel was a portrait of a sleek but battered Voyager emerging triumphantly from a brilliant nebula.

"This is your future, Seven."

After registering the items that could in fact belong to her or Kathryn, Seven faced Q. "For what purpose have you brought me here, Q?"

He poked her shoulder slightly and she yielded to the invasion, allowing herself to fall back just out of his reach. "Aren't you the least bit curious about what the future will hold for you and Mrs. O'Nine?"

She glanced at the bed, where Q had gestured. Her heart lurched when a frail but familiar voice called to them. "Darling, is that you?"

Seven cast a disparaging glance at Q before proceeding gingerly to the bed. Only her Borg stoicism could prevent the shock from tumbling out of her at what she saw. "Kathryn?"

A white haired woman with milky eyes looked in her direction. The beautiful chiseled features remained, but were covered with the betrayal of lines and wrinkles. Kathryn stretched out her spotted hand, her knuckles looking prominent against the brittle bones. "Seven? I'm thirsty."

Seven looked around and hastily poured a glass of water, drawing close for the woman to drink. "The temperature of your hands is low, Kathryn," she said, even as her hand pushed back affectionately on the woman's hair.

Kathryn leaned into the touch, her lips tugging into a timeless expression. "I am a little cold."

Seven nearly cried out at the fragility of Kathryn's cracking voice. "Allow me pull the covers up, my love," she said. She unrolled another quilt that lay neatly folded at the foot of the bed, drawing them around her wife's delicate form. When she drew back, Seven kissed the woman's forehead.

"I knew you'd come back to me." Kathryn closed her eyes as her lips tugged to a faint smile. With Seven's human hand clasped between her own, she appeared to be drifting to sleep. "It's a good dream this time." Her whisper trailed off into gentle snores.

Seven gave Q a vexing frown.

"What?" he boomed.

Seven snapped to Kathryn, concerned she'd be awakened by Q's insensitivity.

"Oh, she can't hear us," Q snapped. "No one can hear me unless I allow it."

Seven dropped her forehead to Kathryn's hands. Despair flooded her usually controlled voice with a single sob. "Why have you brought me here, Q? To see Kathryn's death looming?"

"Every puny human wants to know the future. Now you know it as I know it." He glanced down and curled his lips at the prone figure. "And it isn't pretty."

"Is she ill?" Seven asked.

"Ill? If being human is sick, then yes, she's absolutely sick."

Seven narrowed her eyes. "Do not engage me in your vulgar games, Q. You have brought me here and I require the explanation."

"She's dying, Seven. Are all Borg as dim-witted as you?"

Seven rubbed her check along the back of Kathryn's hand, closing her eyes in reverence. "Why have you done this to me—allowed me to witness my spouse on her death bed?"

"Me? You're the one thinking of the future. Now you know," he said. Q looked away, looking uncomfortable in how far he'd twisted his neck. "Besides, you stole Kathryn from me. I am merely making sure you understand that she will continue to age…"

Seven continued to study Kathryn's face. "She stated I would return to her. Of what does she speak?"

Instantly, Seven and Q were standing outside the gabled house. On a hilltop just a few meters away stood a graying headstone. It read: "Seven of Nine Beloved Wife and Mother 2350 to 2387."

"But I do not age," Seven whispered.

"You didn't die of old age," Q said with a yawn.

Seven's eyes shone with unspent tears. "But this is incompatible with…." Her voice trailed off.

"You didn't expect this, huh? No one ever does." Q leaned in. "I'll let you in on a little secret, Seven. You are not immortal."

"But what could have been the cause of my termination at 37 years of age?"

"Tell you and ruin all the fun? I don't think so," he said.

Seven's features dissembled to Borg stoicism. "Very well, then," she said curtly. "Q remand me back to my time at once!"

"Oh, but we aren't done," he said.

=/\=

The bridge of the U.S.S. Voyager remained dark, except for a single beam of light near the center, under the helm console. Eridani Janeway, bedecked in a Starfleet captain's uniform, lay prone under the workstations. EPS conduits hung down in a disarray from an access point under the console.

"Computer, run a diagnostic on the bridge EPS conduits."

She waited with abated breath. She adjusted her arm light as she poised a laser welder to reseal the stubborn conduits.

"All power conduits on the bridge are now operational."

"Yes!" she whispered as she now worked to replace the access cover.

Suddenly, sparkles appeared and the figure of the EMH Dr. Galen von Behring appeared. "Captain Janeway," said the duplicate doctor.

"Where?" Dani shouted, as she bolted up, slamming her forehead into the edge of the panel. She fell back and rubbed her head. "Is the Captain here?"

The Emergency Medical Hologram had the good sense to look embarrassed. "Actually, I was referring to you."

She groaned. "That hurts," she whispered, still rubbing her forehead as she rolled over and out from underneath the malfunctioning workstation.

"Let me see," the Doctor said, taking out a medical tricorder.

He lifted her chin as he ran the tricorder over her forehead. "Just a contusion. It should go away in two to three days."

Dani turned back to collect the laser welder. "That's the last of it," she said, rising to her feet. "We should have power throughout the ship now that Mezoti's back with the deuterium."

She glanced quickly at the Doctor doing a double take of what she saw. "What's wrong?"

"You haven't eaten in twelve hours, Captain."

"Yes, I have."

"Unless you have some source I don't know about, you haven't."

She rubbed her chin and tried to stifle a yawn. "Maybe I just forgot."

"I've instructed the computer to alert me to the crew's liquid and nutritional intake. Seeing as how our crew is so young and inexperienced, I'd rather avoid malnutrition at this point."

"But there's a few more things…"

"It can wait, Dani," he said. "Besides, I hear Mezoti's restored auxilliary power in the Mess Hall. That means the replicators are online."

"I know," she said sharply. "I ordered it reinitialized for the crew."

"Well, then you should now accept that you are a member of the crew and now I'm ordering you to eat, Captain."

He took her by the shoulder and walked her to the Jeffries tube.

She stopped, looking down at the dark hole through which she would have to descend. "How are our guests?"

Mezoti had rescued twelve Talaxian youth from a freighter with live deuterium among the lifeless ships circling the moon.

"The Talaxian youths are fine," he said. "But malnourished."

She adjusted her flashlight arm strap and nodded. "Now I know why Cappie hates going to sickbay."

"Maybe Cappie's aversion is genetic," Dr. von Behring called back.

=/\=

Dani finally rounded the corner of the corridor as the Mess Hall door slid open. She stopped abruptly, stunned by the loud music and dancing. She leveled her flashlight, its harsh glare forcing several crew members to blink or look away.

"Computer, auxiliary lights."

Track lights along the deck of the Mess Hall's perimeter flickered on and the strobe lights ceased. Dani assessed the few dancers—all of them were Lt. Harry Kim's two sets of twins. She eyed each of the Kim quads in turn: Alila, the only girl, and Arik, Petrum and Stefran had the good sense to look discomfited.

Six others were seated in groups of two, all of them eating sprinkled ice cream. Dani bit hard on her molars as she found her sister in one corner. Shannon Janeway was seated so close to Dukat Wildman that her sister wasn't sure she wasn't in his lap. Dukat held a spoon that was midway to her mouth.

"What the hell is going on?" Dani finally asked, looking first at her sister, as one of the more senior, and then the others, one by one.

"Dinner," Crewman Stefran Kim said. He looked very much like the young Harry Kim, despite his young age.

"And exercise," one of his brother's added added.

Dani nodded thoughtfully and then crossed her arms. "So it doesn't bother you that our parents are imprisoned on that moon?"

The Kim quads shifted uncomfortably.

"We've been on duty for the last twelve hours," Shannon said sharply.

Dani gave a sarcastic shake of her head. "Is the ship ready?" she asked her sister as she stepped closer.

"You tell me," Shannon snapped.

"Not even close." Dani said each word slowly, as grabbed Shannon's wrist and yanked up. She tugged Shannon off of Dukat's lap.

Shannon yanked back, rubbing her wrist. "What is your problem?"

Dani seize the bowl from the table top. "Ice cream, Shannon? At a time like this? You are eating ice cream?"

"We. Were. Hungry!" Shannon growled.

"Our crew is probably starving and you're what?" Dani glanced at the bowl of vanilla ice cream before tossing it against a bulkhead. "You're celebrating?"

The rest of the remaining crew grew eerily quiet.

Shannon didn't flinch at the crashing sound of ceramic meeting metal. She just stared unflinching at her older sister before stepping closer. "You are just mad you didn't think of this first. You would have been the first one to propose a party." She smirked when Dani opened her mouth to speak, but closed it before doing so.

Dani felt the burn of her ears at her sister's remark. "Computer, limit replicator rations to protein and plant edibles. Authorization Eridani Seven Janeway Alpha."

"Rations reduction enabled," said a feminine voice.

Dani tried to ignore the soft groans from the young crew. But she couldn't, not with her sister's accusation still hanging in the air. "Brownies and ice cream won't give you what you need to get the job done. I know you're warped out with stress. I am, too. But now more than ever we need to focus. Our parents and our friends need us. All of you have the next eight hours to rest. Make the most of it."

Dani watched most of the young crew wisely exit, with their final sweet treat in hand. "And if I see any more needless expenditure of resources, I'll throw you in the brig myself. Get me?"

Their only acknowledgement—except for Dukat and Shannon—was a begrudging "aye, captain."

"You are dismissed," she said, before executing a crisp Starfleet regulation ninety degree turn to face her sister. "Shannon, a word, please."

Her sister slowly turned to kiss Duke's lips before nonchalantly walking toward the exit. Once in the corridor, her cool disintegrated. "What?" she snapped.

Dani's fists slipped to her hips. "What is your problem?" she whispered as the crew continued to file out of the Mess Hall.

"Oh, let's see," she said, her blonde ponytail bobbing back and forth. "I haven't slept in the last thirty six hours. I have more work than I can possibly do. My parents have been kidnapped. And I'm stuck on the Good Ship Lollipop with Captain Squeak."

The use of Dani's much-hated nickname raised the veins of her neck and she sucked in her lips, her eyes lifting in watery pools. "I'm sorry this isn't a pleasure cruise." She bit hard on her molars when Shannon rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry I'm in charge…and you're not."

"Do you really think that's what this is all about?"

"Not entirely, but you know you always hated it when I got to be the lead."

Shannon grimaced, ran a hand over her blonde hair and finally pushed off the bulkhead. "I'm outta here," she said, gracefully avoiding Dani's arm grab.

But Dani wasn't done. Before she could even think about it, Dani had her sister's face pressed against the bulkhead. "Grow up, damn you!"

"You're hurting me!" Shannon managed to say.

Dani released her sister and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Shannon stood there with her back to Dani. Her shoulders rose and fell with every breath. "The next time you do that I'm going to kick your ass," Shannon said through clenched teeth without even bothering to look back.

"The next time you're in a room with me, check your attitude, Ensign. Or I'll throw you in the brig."

Shannon looked over her shoulder. "Oh, get over yourself, will you?"

Dani shoved her forward. Shannon was forced to push off against the bulkhead to avoid kissing it. "I'm not kidding, Shannon," Dani said.

"Neither am I, Squeak!"

Dani narrowed her eyes. "You heard me, Ensign. And keep your skivvies on around Duke."

Shannon finally whirled. Her face was red. "That's none of your business."

When Shannon's tears began to fall, Dani softened her expression. "Look, Shay, I didn't like where he had his hand."

"Where he had his hand is none your god-damned business." She punctuated the last four words with a poke to Dani's chest, just north of her commbadge.

Dani let her shoulder give, as she listened. "This is my life, too," Shannon said. "I'm standing at the end of it and there's a lot I haven't done—"

"You're wrong," Dani finally said, sounding out every syllable carefully. "Everything and everyone on this ship is my business. It comes with this mindfuck of a Captain's job. And I hate every minute of it! But I'll be damned if I'm going to let Mom and Cappie down. That means tell Dukat to keep his hands and everything else off of you."

Shannon's mouth dropped open. "You really think I'm just screwing around, don't you?"

"From what I saw, yeah."

"We were blowing off steam. Captain. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have any artificial gravity."

Dani hid her surprise in a short nod. "Gravity isn't the only thing we need." She began to tick off the priorities on her fingers. "Propulsion systems, navigation, communications and weapons."

"We're doing our best," Shannon wailed. It echoed down the empty corridor.

Dani glanced over her shoulder to look back at the Mess Hall. "Your best better get better, Ensign. Our survival depends on it."

Shannon laughed quietly before looking away. When she looked back at her sister, there was an edge Dani had never seen. "You must think we're all pretty daft, Dani."

"No," she said. "I think you're tired, like me. Tired is sloppy. Sloppy is death. We aren't going to fail on this, Shay. And I need your help most of all."

"You need my help?" Shannon said, letting her shoulders shake in an exaggerated laugh. "So you're idea of enlisting it is to embarrass me in front of our friends. That's absolutely brilliant, Captain Janeway."

Dani exhaled. "Look, Shannon. I'm doing my best here."

"Your best better get better, Captain," Shannon said, as she started to walk away.

Dani watched Shannon's determined strides down the corridor. "Shit," she whispered to herself, wanting the damned text messages to show her the way. In typical fashion, they were silent. "I need you," she whispered.