The automatic lights flickered on as Seven stepped inside and silently assessed the room, tidy, organised, comfortably if minimally furnished… Her thoughts were interrupted as Chakotay stepped past her and quickly indicated the seating area as he made his way to the replicator. Uneasily she perched on the edge of the couch, unconsciously playing with the corner of a Starfleet standard issue cushion as she watched him, apprehensive as to why he'd invited her in. "Would you like anything?" he asked suddenly.

Seven felt for an instant as if her vocal chords had been paralysed and when she eventually did speak it was slightly higher pitched than what she considered normal. "Perhaps…one of those teas you suggested Commander."

He turned to look at her and she was now sure of the concern in his eyes, perhaps she should downplay the effects of her condition if it made him so uncomfortable… He didn't seem angry at her for mentioning it though, "Sure." He muttered quickly. Their respective drinks appeared within three seconds and he sank into the chair across from her after pressing hers into her hands although he leaned forward, closer to her, before speaking again. "Please don't call me Commander anymore, not in private at least. We're long past that formality."

"If you wish, but the crew may…"

He waved his hand in a dismissive yet tense manner. "All the senior officers call me Chakotay when off duty, there's no reason why you should be any different and anyway they're going to have to get used to bigger things than that."

"For certain." Seven murmured as she took a long sip of tea to give her time to think. Finally remembering back to the Doctor's social lessons, for although they did not recommend how to start conversation with the father of your child whom you had never called by his given name they did advise on the importance of compliments in "breaking the ice". "Your quarters are very well appointed…Chakotay."

"Yes, I suppose. It took a lot of getting used to, as a Maquis I was accustomed to more cramped situations, anywhere we could get really…" He trailed off. Seven was for a moment tempted to inquire about his role in the Maquis, her knowledge of the political background was practically non-existent but the she didn't quite have the courage to ask, it was something of a taboo subject on Voyager, it was almost as if the Captain was afraid the crew might sectionalise if it was discussed… Looking at Chakotay's expression Seven couldn't help thinking that perhaps the Captain was right. Chakotay noticed Seven studying his face intently and shifted in his chair as he struggled to think of another topic, finally he grasped one. "I hope you don't mind that I changed your shifts around…" he began.

"I appreciated that Chakotay, I am far from my peak efficiency…I still want to work of course…" she added hastily, not wanting him to believe that she relished shirking her responsibilities.

"Of course." He assured hurriedly. Actually when he'd looked at the schedule she logged he'd been shocked by the level of work she did do, at least one and a half times what everyone else was expected to do and he had a suspicion that she also worked when she was supposedly off duty, since he very rarely saw her outside of Astrometrics or the Bridge. "What do you do when you're off duty Seven?" Might as well ask, he reasoned but regretted the question as he saw her stiffen, visibly on the defensive.

"I regenerate or study Voyager's schematics to check for flaws in efficiency." She replied stoically.

"No…I meant what do you do for a break, for fun?"

Fun? The mental question almost sprang in voice from Seven's lips; she stopped in time but still had to think for a while as to an appropriate answer. "My interests are…temporal mechanics, stellar cartography, ship design…" She could see she was losing him and murmured somewhat bashfully, "…music…"

"Music?" He echoed in both shock and relief, for he couldn't say he was up to the task of conversing on any of her other interests. Her head dipped low in confirmation, he could see more than a hint of embarrassment in her eyes as he questioned again, more enthusiastically this time. "What genres do you like?"

"Human mostly although Vulcan and Breen composers also have their merits. I am particularly fond of Liszt, Mozart, Stravinsky and Tchaikovsky…" She looked at him quizzically. "This information seems to surprise you, why?"

"Oh no, I can see why you like them. It's known as the golden age of human music. What got you interested?"

"The Doctor…at first. He enjoys sharing his pleasure in music and it does have curious mathematical qualities."

"His singing voice too." Chakotay commented drily, a teasing glint in his eye.

He was surprise once again by her light laugh. "Yes, I do not think I will be able to listen to Tosca in undiluted pleasure after hearing the Doctor's attempt. Nothing has made me appreciate more the genius of a long, voiceless orchestral piece as yet."

Chakotay heard a hint of wit and humour in her voice and found himself smiling. "Try sharing a shuttle the size of one of Voyager's escape pods with B'Elanna's Klingon operas for six weeks and then we'll talk."

"I did not think those were to Lieutenant Torres' taste…"

"There's something about blood soaked battle cries disguised as music, its like catnip to anyone with a drop of Klingon blood…"

"It always struck me as…abrasive to the ear but I suppose the lyrics do reveal something of the Klingon psyche…"

This began a thread of conversation between them which flowed with an ease which would astound both participants later. Suddenly Harry Kim's voice pierced the air through Seven's comm. badge. "Seven you're meant to be on the Bridge evening shift with me remember?"

Seven flushed as she tapped the comm. badge, if she was late for her shift then that meant she had been here for over three hours! What must Chakotay think of her? It was only supposed to be for "a little while" to use his phrase. "I will be there imminently Ensign." She said hurriedly before rising so quickly from her chair that dizziness overwhelmed her for a moment and only Chakotay's quick reactions saved her from falling. Colouring at his firm hold on her shoulders she cautiously met his eyes. "I apologise for impinging on your hospitality…Comm…Chakotay."

He immediately let her go; the horrible nervous tension between them back with full force as he said quickly, "No need…feel free…"

She nodded with perhaps unintended sharpness as she headed for the door. "Goodnight Chakotay."

"Goodnight Seven." He said in reply sinking back into his chair as soon as she'd left. What had just happened?

A/n: Short but it just seemed right to end it here, next up the crew notice something different between their First Officer and their Borg crewmate… Am I going too fast with them? Please review! I might have another chapter of one of my stories up later.