TITLE: "Memory" Part 4 of 4

AUTHOR: Layla V.

CONTACT: v_layla@hotmail.com

WEBSITE: http://www.geocities.com/chakotayseven

ARCHIVING: Sure. Just let me know where.

FANDOM: Star Trek Voyager

PAIRING: Chakotay/Seven

RATING: PG-13.

CODES: Slightly A/U. Angst. H/c.

SUMMARY: What if the Rumaran virus meant to erase Kellin's

memories from every mind on Voyager wasn't as effective as

we'd thought at first?

DISCLAIMER: All characters owned by Paramount. I am merely

playing with them. No copyright infringement is intended.

NOTES: Major thanks to Sorcha for her invaluable suggestions

and betaing. Also thanks to Kristin for her encouragement

without which I could never have been able to finish this.

:)

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This Story won *First Place* in the Bowl First Kiss contest!

http://www.geocities.com/the_fresh_bowl/contest.html

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"Face it, Har, you guys can *never* beat me---even on my

down days." Lieutenant Paris's joyful voice rises above the

usual hustle of the messhall.

I follow my three jubilant companions as they weave their

way through the tables and crewmembers in our way, hurrying

to secure a large table being vacated on one side of the

messhall. Our journey takes longer than it normally should,

though, as I watch several people stop the pilot in the

middle of the messhall to inquire about his well being since

his recent injury on our away mission.

It's been forty-eight hours since our return from the

planet. Lieutenant Paris was released to his quarters

yesterday and after resting for one whole day he is now

ready to return to duty. Tonight is his night of

celebration, as Ensign Kim puts it, to see whether he's

ready to handle the helm from tomorrow's alpha shift or not.

Evidently bringing him out to play pool was their way of

confirming---or perhaps reassuring themselves of---the

Lieutenant's successful return to health.

I watch as finally, with the help of our impatient Chief

Engineer and the simply ecstatic Ops Officer, the Lieutenant

is extricated from the clutches of his well

wishers---exuberant as they are---and we settle down on our

table.

Tom Paris smiles blandly at his two friends.

"Oh get over yourself, Fly Boy." B'Elanna Torres snorts

disgustedly---an obviously feigned expression---using her

occasional nickname for the pilot. "We were just worried

you'd strain yourself too hard, so we went *easy* on you."

Lieutenant Paris's eyes widen in disbelief and he shakes his

head in mock-outrage. "Losers shouldn't insult accomplished

pool players like me, B'Elanna."

"Oh please, Tom..." Ensign Kim rolls his eyes. "It wasn't

*that* bad. We're getting better, you know that."

"Harry..." Lieutenant Paris shakes his head. "You saw how

she played. I literally wiped the pool table with her

tonight."

My brow raises at Lieutenant Torres's affronted growl from

her seat. "*No one* wipes the pool table with me. The only

reason I lost was because you were too weak and I didn't

want to tire you out too much."

"That is incorrect," I interject. "Lieutenant Paris's

hand-to-eye coordination tonight was better than both you

and Ensign Kim. He won on his own merit."

Tom Paris turns to me and his smile turns wider. "Oh Seven,

I had no idea you *cared*." His eyes twinkle with mischief.

"That's it. I've decided---from now on, you're my new best

friend. I don't like these two anymore. *You* know no one

can beat me."

"That's bullshit, Paris." Torres' lips pout at him as she

gives me an intolerant glare. "You've gotten your head too

big for your own good. Chakotay can beat you at pool."

"Chakotay?" Tom shakes his head. "You've gotta be kidding.

He hasn't beaten me in *ages*. Heck he hasn't *played* pool

in ages. He's not as fast as I am."

"That is incorrect too," I interject again. "Commander

Chakotay's reflexes are stronger than most people on this

ship. His hand-to-eye coordination is excellent. I've seen

him fight against and *beat* Commander Tuvok in his boxing

simulation."

"Seven, boxing is different from playing pool." This time

it's Lieutenant Paris's turn to pout.

"Not so much different if you take into account the factor

of agility versus skill," I reply calmly. "And Commander

Chakotay has both---in both the scenarios. He would be a

formidable opponent for your level of playing."

"You've seen Chakotay *box*?" Lieutenant Torres looks at me

incredulously. "He hasn't shown *me* his boxing program."

I turn my head and look at her, my eyebrow arching at her

skepticism. "It was a security drill with Commander Tuvok,

two months ago. I was monitoring the various techniques they

used, and their effects on their physical propensity."

"Still, he uses my Klingon Calisthenics Program," she

mumbles.

"B'Elanna, you whine as much as Tom does." Ensign Kim shakes

his head at his two friends.

"Me? Whine?" Tom Paris's voice rises again. "I am not

whining. I am just saying Chakotay can't beat me so

easily..."

"Oh shut up, Paris. You're a pig," B'Elanna growls again,

her mock-affronted mask back in place.

"Who's a pig?"

I start as I look up to see Commander Chakotay standing next

to my chair.

The expression on Lieutenant Paris's face changes

immediately. He smiles widely at the First Officer, his lips

quirking impishly. "Uh, hey Commander---have a seat."

"Thanks, Tom." Chakotay smiles at all of us as he slides

down in the seat next to me. "So who's the pig?"

"B'Elanna called Tom a pig." Harry chuckles from his seat

next to the pilot.

"Why, B'Elanna, what did he do?"

"He said he could wipe the pool table with you, Chakotay."

Lieutenant Torres huffs dramatically, her one brow raised in

challenge.

"That's a total lie!" Lieutenant Paris's outraged cry rings

into our ears. "I never said anything like that. I said I

wiped the pool table with B'Elanna in *tonight*'s game,

that's all."

"Why, Tom..." The Commander smiles at him. "I thought your

memory was better than that. I *have* beaten you at pool

many times."

"Are you kidding? I always let you win because you're my

superior officer," Tom drawls.

"Is that right?" I can feel the vibrations of the

Commander's mirth emanating from his whole demeanor. He's

truly relaxed tonight. "Oh, but I can't take advantage of

you tonight, Lieutenant," He continues. "You just recovered

from your severe injuries. I can't strain you too much at

pool at the moment, you know."

I feel my remaining nervousness disappear as all three of

them laugh at the pilot.

"God, am I only going to be insulted tonight?" Lieutenant

Paris shakes his head, as he returns the smiles.

"Don't worry, Commander," Ensign Kim says. "Seven said you

could beat the hell out of Tom at pool."

I feel myself flush as I feel the Commander's eyes shift to

my profile. "That's not what she said," I hear Lieutenant

Paris complain again. "She said he'd make a "formidable

opponent", that's all."

"Is that true, Seven?" Chakotay's voice is teasing yet

gentle.

I turn my head to look at him. His eyes are sparkling

brilliantly, his mouth softened into a still unexpectedly

pleasant smile. I feel my breath catch for some unfathomable

reason, as I look into his brown eyes, unable to speak for a

moment.

"Tom. Commander. Seven." Our reverie is broken by the

cheerful squeal from Mr. Neelix. "Look what I've got for

you."

The Morale Officer walks jubilantly to our table, a serving

tray in his hand. "I tried one of those delicious vegetables

you brought from your away mission in one of my pie dishes.

And its turned out *wonderful*." The Talaxian smiles happily

as he places the tray in front of us. "I wish I could stay

to see how you like it but I've got an alpha shift crew to

serve. Please enjoy yourselves. Its absolutely delicious."

With that, he walks away---leaving the five of us in a

dubious silence.

"Uh, guys..." Lieutenant Paris is the first one to speak.

"Did you hear Neelix say what I think I heard him say?"

"Yeah, Tom." Ensign Kim swallows. "He thinks it's

delicious."

"Oh no." The Lieutenant shakes his head. "Delicious to

Neelix normally means heartburn to the rest of us."

"Oh well, his Silkari brown rice from last week wasn't so

bad." B'Elanna sighs.

"Well, it looks like a yellow version of artichokes." Harry

offers in reassurance. "It can't be that bad."

"It looks like one of your collections, Tom." Chakotay grins

from my side. "*I* don't remember harvesting anything like

this from there." He picks up the fork lying on the tray and

offers it to the pilot. "Why don't you do the honors?"

Tom looks at the XO suspiciously as he takes the fork from

his hand and then squints down at the plate of the yellowish

baked vegetable pie. The smell rising from it isn't that

unpleasant and I watch as after taking a deep breath, the

pilot scoops up a forkful and takes it into his mouth.

Four sets of eyes watch as Lieutenant Paris chews the

mouthful of the dish our cook has prepared from the

vegetable sample the pilot himself harvested, watch as the

expression on his face changes from mild curiosity to slight

discomfort to abject horror, watch as he spits out the

forkful he had taken inside his mouth---his mouth grimacing

in absolute disgust.

"No, no, no...' He moans into his napkin, as I hand him a

glass of water. "I can't *believe* this." He groans in

disdain as he chokes down half the glass in one go.

Curious, B'Elanna tastes a spoonful from the pie and her

reaction is the same. "P'Takh," She heaves a sigh of

disgust. "It tastes *just* like Leola Root."

I hear the Commander chuckling at my side as the pilot huffs

in outrage. "I can't believe I almost got *killed* for

this."

"Just your luck, Tom, huh?" Ensign Kim grins at his friend.

"You had to go find a Leola version of Artichokes from the

planet of hell."

"Who knows, Lieutenant," Chakotay says. "Those Leola-Root

lookalikes you threw away down there---could've tasted like

Mushrooms."

"I hate this." Paris sighs.

"Don't worry, Tom," The Commander reassures him. "There are

plenty of other things that we got from there. I am sure

there will be some stuff more to our liking. I'd hate to

think everything we harvested tastes like Leola Root."

"It doesn't." I look at the Commander, and then at the

Lieutenant. "Everything *I* harvested on the planet, after

I'd assessed its viability and before I'd labeled and stored

it in the containers, I tasted it as well to make sure it

was adequate. Nothing you will find from my collection would

be repulsive to eat."

"Seven, I told you---you were the *best*, didn't I?" The

smile is back on Lieutenant Paris's face. Lieutenant Torres

and Ensign Kim too regard me warmly---but it's the sense of

appreciation I feel coming from the Commander that sends a

strange quiver of gladness inside my heart.

"Good work, Seven," he says.

But before I can respond to him, I am commed.

"Doctor to Seven of Nine. Your weekly examination is due in

ten minutes. This is just a reminder."

I sigh as I hear B'Elanna Torres and Harry Kim groan at the

Doctor's voice, their subject of discussion shifting from

horrifying food to horrifying medical practices at the hands

of the sadistic EMH. I make a mental attempt to tune out

their conversations. Unlike them, I have to face the Doctor

on a much regular basis---something my Human/Borg physiology

requires more persistently than they can ever realize.

I don't need to hear their worst case medical scenarios---no

matter how harmless their intentions.

"You should go," Chakotay whispers next to me, his voice

soothing as always.

I look at him. His eyes are soft and understanding, his face

calm and his smile reassuring, as he looks into my eyes. I

feel someone else's eyes on me too and turn my head to find

myself looking into Lieutenant Paris's puzzled blue eyes. I

watch as he looks at me, looks at the Commander looking at

me, and then shifts his probing gaze back to me

again---while his two friends stay oblivious, still busy

with their sadistic-EMH-complaining. And then, I stare as a

smile grows on the Lieutenant's face, widening as something

that looks like understanding dawns on his face.

"I must leave," I announce breathlessly, feeling the

Commander's eyes still on my frame, disconcerted by the

various reactions I've received in the last few moments.

"Doctor's orders."

"See you later," Chakotay says.

I nod at him as I stand up---my eyes lingering on his face

for a moment---nod at Lieutenant Paris---the expression on

his face oddly amused---acknowledge Torres and Kim's

good-byes and turning around, walk out of the messhall.

Just for a moment, though, as I reach the exit, I feel

myself shiver as the heat of Chakotay's gaze lingers on my

back---its comforting warmth infusing my whole body.

And then the messhall doors close behind me.

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I run my palms across the soft lush blades at my sides and

feel the cool slippery texture tickle my skin. So green, so

luxuriantly fragrant the grass is---I take in a deep joyous

breath of the cool morning air and for a moment, almost

imagine myself in the real desert.

I realize, though, that a holodeck simulation is the only

place in the delta quadrant where I can get a taste of that

beloved, sorely missed, sunrise.

The imagery is almost nearly perfect.

A sea of sand for as far as the eye can see---chilling cold

in the night, yet hot and sultry in the day. And somewhere

in the middle of these sandy dunes, this small patch of

greenery filled with tall leafy palms swaying to the nearly

hushed murmur of the cool spring spraying out of the

fractured earth. At this hour, everything around me is

almost perfectly silent and still---as if waiting for life

to languidly arise out of its deep slumber.

I look closely at the dark horizon and can almost make out

the beginnings of the new day arriving. That hesitant bluish

tint of daylight slowly making itself visible against the

thick black curtain of night. I hear the distant call of a

bird chirping and feel a smile tugging at the corners of my

lips.

Yes. It took me years to get this simulation this far---

adding little details that come back to me every time I work

on the programming. Even though, I am thrilled with the work

I've done on this, I might finally have come as close as I

am ever going to get to the real thing. I've never shared

this with anyone before, but that is going to change now.

I hear the holodeck doors open and close somewhere behind me

and after a moment hear a hesitant voice call out.

"Commander?"

"Over here, Seven." I call her.

It takes her a moment, and then she walks out from behind

the grove of palms, and out into the open air. I look up at

her.

"Hello," I greet her.

She nods. "It is dark."

I smile. "Yes. But its soon going to be light." I pat the

spot next to me. "Have a seat."

She looks at me doubtfully; her brow raised in puzzlement,

but complies. With an elegant grace she's probably unaware

of possessing, she folds her long body into a sitting

position and settles down on the patch of grass by my side.

A few seconds tick by in silence as we hear the steadily

growing chirps of crickets and the other insects dwelling in

the bushes and sands around us. Then she shifts on the

grass.

"What are we doing here?" She looks at me.

I turn to her and give her a smile. "Waiting for an Arizona

sunrise."

She looks at me dubiously. "A sunrise."

"Yes." I sigh. "Just wait and see. It's going to be

beautiful."

There's silence for a moment as she ponders over my words,

her blue eyes thoughtful, and then she looks at me again.

"You miss Earth."

I nod. "I do. Even though I wasn't born there, I spent a

long time there after I joined the Academy. Arizona was

always one of my most favorite places to visit. I loved the

desert heat."

"It is cold right now," she observes.

"Yes, it is." I agree, feeling the cool morning chill

delightfully make its way through my soft cotton shirt and

slacks, and push my light sandals off. I rub the soles of my

feet on the cool springy grass. "But it's pleasant," I tell

her.

Seven observes my bare feet for a long moment, and just when

I start to think that perhaps I've made a mistake by taking

the sandals off, she reaches down with her hands and one

after the other, pulls off her own high-heeled shoes as

well. Almost unresistingly, my eyes linger on her

feet---they're exquisitely formed, her toes beautifully

aligned in almost a straight line, the heels of her feet

arching in a long graceful curve, all covered in soft pale

skin.

The sight of her sitting, barefoot, on a slope of cool dewy

grass in my holodeck program, in her formfitting

regenerative outfit, fills me with a strange wild

giddiness---for never before had I ever imagined such a

sight in my dreams. I look up into her startled eyes and

find her looking at me staring at her feet, and suddenly my

mouth is dry. Her eyes widen at whatever she sees on my

face.

Spirits, what the hell is happening to me?

Another bird calls out in the chilling air, and I look up to

the sky. The daylight is breaking. The sun is coming out.

"Look," I tell her, pointing to the sky.

She follows my gaze.

It's like a swirling moving fountain of colors---darkness

and light blending together to form a beautiful,

unexplainably wonderful canvas of life. Brightness replacing

the unyielding gloom of the night. The fluffy white clouds

slowly becoming visible in the awakening day and from behind

them comes our first glimpse of the bright, vitalizing,

endlessly alive sun.

The sounds of the birds chirping is like an old melody I'd

been nostalgic for a long time. The sun's yellow rays make

the whole landscape glitter like sprinkled gold dusted along

the dunes and the light breeze makes the palms behind us

rustle to their own private rhythm.

I let the whole scene sink into me, feelings the brightness

of the day and the song of the birds fill me with a new

sense of vigor.

Finally, I turn to her. "Well, what do you think?"

She takes a moment to gather her thoughts, her eyes still on

the vista in front of us, and then she takes a breath and

looks at me. "It is impressive."

I smile. "I'd hoped you'd enjoy it."

"I did." She lets a small smile show on her lips and then

asks. "Did you program this simulation?"

"Yes," I nod, as I push myself up on one hand and stand up.

"It's never going to be as authentic as the *real* thing but

I've tried to get *as* close as I could."

She follows my lead and stands up as well. "You've done

well. It's a soothing environment."

I watch as she approaches the grove of palms and turns

around, her eyes lingering on the bubbling spring and the

greenery. "A fertile area in the middle of a desert."

I smile. "An oasis. An island of life and hope in the midst

of desolate barren dunes of sand."

She looks at me closely. "Hope. Do you always look for the

bright side even when all apparent options that might lead

to a favorable conclusion are gone?"

"No." I shake my head, my eyes looking into hers. "Sometimes

I learn the hard way as well. Sometimes I can be the most

hardheaded person you'll ever find. But experience has

taught me that you should *always* look for the bright

side---always keep an open mind. For when you do that---hope

finds you itself."

"Isn't that an excessively optimistic approach, Commander?"

There's a slight quirk to her lips.

"Oh." I stare deep into her eyes, my own eyes soft. "But I

*thrive* on optimism, Seven."

"I am beginning to see that." She returns my gaze, her eyes

twinkling. With a nod and a slight smile on her lips, she

moves out to stand at the edge of the greenery, next to a

tall palm tree. The sun is peeking from behind the clouds,

still not completely out but somehow brighter now---its rays

washing everything in its luminescent brilliance. I look

over the view, my eyes travelling over the dry terrain,

watching as a flock of birds flies towards some distant

abode, and then my gaze rests on my companion.

Her face turned towards the sparkling spring in the middle

of the oasis, her fingers play with a drooping leaf of the

palm, as my eyes travel from her bare feet up to her

graceful, arching profile, to rest on her golden mane. The

sunlight lingers in her hair, making them sparkle under the

shade of the palm, turning them alive all of a

sudden---their suddenly overwhelming luster turning my mouth

dry again.

She notices my eyes on her and turns her face to look at me,

and we're caught in each other's gazes---her eyes a

beautiful, shimmering hue of blue unlike any I'd ever seen

before. My heart filling with that same wild giddiness, I

find myself walking to her in a daze---suddenly seized by

the desire to sink my fingers into her hair.

She looks at me, her eyes wide, as I reach her side---that

same now-familiar flush heating her beautiful face.

"May I?" I ask her, my voice suddenly hoarse, as my hand

reaches up to touch the line of her hair pulled back from

her face.

She nods, her throat convulsing, her breathing uneven.

My fingers slowly map the terrain with their pads as I

stroke her bound hair with that one hand, until they reach

the pin that clasps her hair into that bun. With a gentle

tug, I pull it out and her hair loosens, falling into

beautiful wavy strands around her face. I feel my breath

catch in my throat as the sunrays fall on her silky tresses,

making them glitter like threads made of gold---turning her

exquisitely beautiful to me.

My heart hammering loudly in my ears, my fingers running

through her golden hair, I gently pull her close, lower my

mouth and press my lips to hers. I feel her stiffen against

me for a second and then my hand is travelling down to the

middle of her back, tenderly rubbing away her fears, my

fingers gentle in their touch---and with a soft sigh, she

comes closer, her own trembling hands coming around my

shoulders. As I trace her soft lips with mine, I feel the

heated vibrations of her moan reverberating against my skin,

her taste infinitely sweet against my mouth, and with a sigh

I let her mouth go, leaning back to look at her face.

Her eyes are closed, her face burning with that beautiful

crimson shade, as her breaths come out of her parted lips in

small panting gasps---the stunning sight of her making my

heart thud against my ribcage. And then she opens her eyes

and I am lost in the depths of her soul. I cradle her heated

face in my palms, my fingers rubbing her flaming cheeks, as

her hands tighten around my shoulders.

"A piece of work indeed," I whisper, my eyes glazed, as a

sudden smile tugs at the corners of my mouth.

A small frown appears between her brows. "Explain." She

looks confused.

So I lower my lips to claim her mouth once more, my smile

widening against her pliant mouth. This time, her lips part

against mine and I hear myself moan as I finally taste the

sweetness of her mouth, my tongue plunging inside to drink

at her lush tang. Her hands are moving down my back now, her

lips moving against mine, urgent in their need, and I press

her closer to me, my hands moving in her hair, threading

through the silky strands and my mouth slants against hers

to kiss her harder.

As we hold each other close under the shade of the palm

tree, her strong slender body pressing against mine, her

arms tighten around me and I feel a lightness invade my

heart.

That yawning gap in my thoughts, that fissure that had felt

as if it had shattered my soul only a few days back, no

longer exists. In its place, is a sweet tenderness---that I

had never thought I'd find again.

There's hope after all in the midst of all desolation.

My reason is found again.

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THE END