Disclaimer: Star Trek: Voyager belongs to Paramount Pictures.
Chapter 9: Caffeine intolerance
"Do you know why you're here?"
"Because you're a bitch."
"That's not the reason."
"So if you know why I'm here why are you asking me if I know why I'm here, it's obvious that I don't know, so why don't you just get over with it and tell me why I'm here."
"You know why you're here, I don't have to tell you."
"And all I know is that you're a bitch, so I'm going to say that is the reason."
"Why do you think I'm a bitch?"
"I don't think, but I do know, it's just one of those things, you either know or you don't know. I don't want to talk any more."
"You're going to have to some time. . . Okay, we'll end it here for today."
~*~
San Francisco, September 8th 2379.
He was humming, he always hummed, it was just something that he did. Well, he didn't always hum, because sometimes he sang, and sometimes his program was offline, and sometimes it wasn't appropriate to hum, but on this occasion he was humming. He heard the door open from behind him and turned to see Seven standing at the entrance, the doctor beamed, "what can I do for you today Seven?" he asked.
She came further into the room, her face was like steel, which usually meant that she was upset or unsettled about something, and so she put on the mask to prevent others from realising this. "I am here on a medical matter," she informed him.
The doctor picked up a triquader, "yes," he encouraged her to carry on.
"I have experienced severe headaches, eye strains, and at times imbalance," she described her symptoms to him.
He took the triquader over to her and began scanning, "hum," he said.
"Is there something wrong doctor?" she asked.
He looked up, suddenly aware that he had said anything at all, "I'm not sure," he stepped away from her, and transferred the readings over to a console, "it's probably nothing," he said clicking some more buttons, "this may take some time. So, how are you?" he distracted her from asking what he thought was wrong.
"As I have said-" she began, but the doctor held up a hand.
"No, with your work, friends- love life," he raised an eyebrow in waiting for a response to the latter of the list.
She smiled slightly, "you mean Tad," she correctly guessed.
"Everything alright between the two of you?"
"We have our disagreements, but in general he is easy to get on with. He has just suggested moving an alcove into his apartment, so that I could stay over more often, instead of having to return to my own apartment to regenerate." She added a little unsurely, she wasn't too sure of how her mentor was going to react to this change, but she hoped that he would be happy for her.
He did seem to smile, but she could tell that the smile was only for her benefit, "well I hope it works out for you," he said, although she wasn't entirely certain that he meant it.
There was a bleep from the console telling them both that what ever the doctor had set the computer to do with the scans had finished. Quickly he made his way back over, and looked down a little hesitantly at the readings. "Is there something wrong?" Seven asked a little nervously.
The doctor looked up a little reluctantly, wishing that he didn't have to be the one to tell her, "I'll have to run some more scans again, but I think that your cortical implant is in the early stages of failing."
Seven's heart skipped a beat, she could remember the first time that he cortical implant had begun to fail, and was certain that she didn't want to go through the experience for a second time. "And what if it is failing?" she asked.
He pulled a face, "it might not be," he pointed out, "but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
~*~
Normandy, France, 10th September 2379.
"Where are we going?" Seven asked Tad as they approached a rather large looking building.
"Ah," he said teasingly pulling her gently along with her hand in his, "that would be telling."
"Well I'm asking you to tell me," she said lightly.
"If I told you it would spoil the surprise, and besides you'll find out soon enough." They had almost reached the door to the building, and Tad had now reached into his pockets searching for something, "however if I can't find the keys then it won't be much of a surprise."
"Tad, you know I'm not very good with surprises," she stressed.
He turned to her and smiled, "found them," he said at last, removing some keys from his pocket. Turning from her he placed the key into the lock and turned it, until they heard a click, "well," he said, "at least they're the right ones."
Seven pulled an exasperated face as he opened the door, holding the door open with one arm he over exaggerated a bow, "after you madam," he said.
A little hesitantly she entered into a dark room, before Tad closed the door he turned a light on, and she could see that they were in a lightly decorated lounge, "where are we?" she asked.
"Uh, staff lounge I guess," he shrugged and headed towards a door at the other end of the room, he tried it only to find that it was locked, and so headed towards another door, there was a click from this one, and he opened it out wide, peaking through the gap, "I think this is the right one."
"You think!" Seven said wearily.
"I've never come through this way before," he defended himself, "come on, it's up here."
Before she could argue he had disappeared through the door, sighing she too headed for the door, only to find that it opened up onto steps escalating to a second floor. Tad was standing at the top, beaming widely, "you're okay to run right?" he asked.
Seven headed up the steps, "yes, why?"
"Well if we trigger off any security devices then we might have to run, but I've been told that they've all been deactivated, so we should be okay."
Seven glared at him, but stopped when she reached the top of the steps. They were standing on the top of a balcony about three metres up and to the side or an ice rink. The rink its self was large and oval, with stands of seats either side obviously for spectators to ice shows. "I know how you don't like large crowds of people, so I figured you'd enjoy ice skating more at a time when no one was around."
When she saw that he was smiling, she could do nothing but to smile also, "that was very, considerate of you," it was the closest thing that she could say to 'oh wow, this is a wonderful surprise' and Tad realised this and his smile widened knowing that she was happy.
"We'd better get skates," he said, breaking her away from staring at the rink.
"Can you skate?" she asked, following him across the wide balcony and down another set of steps.
"I'm okay," he shrugged, getting to the counter where skates were usually exchanged for shoes and sliding over.
"How did you get the rink while it was empty?" she raised her voice as he disappeared into a room behind the counter.
He reappeared with two pairs of skates, one in each hand, "I friend of a friend, and a favour was owed somewhere along the line," he slid back over and handed her a pair of skates.
"This friend of yours, does he work at the rink?"
"Used to," Tad said, sitting on the edge of a seat and taking his own boots off, "but he got fired for letting the rink out illegally to friends."
Seven glared at him, "is that the truth?"
"Are you going to put those skates on or what?" he asked, nodding his head in the direction of the skates that she was still holding.
Eventually Seven gave up questioning him about the details of the arrangements he had made to get the rink, and went on to the ice. Tad, she found, had lied, or more precisely had undermined his own abilities on the ice, he wasn't just okay at skating, he was excellent.
"Where did you learn to skate?" she asked as he caught her again before she fell on the ice.
"I used to skate with my parents when I was small, and then when my dad died my mum continued to take me," he skated backwards and held her hands in his, as she skated clumsily forwards.
"I didn't realise that your dad had died," she came close to falling again, but Tad was prepared for this slip, and pulled her back to her feet before she even touched the ground.
"You never asked," he shrugged, "you know you wouldn't fall over quite as much if you stopped leaning backwards when you're skating."
"It's not the sort of question that you ask someone," she pointed out to him, "and why shouldn't I lean backwards, you are."
"Only because I'm an excellent skater," he joked.
"Why don't you talk about your family much?" Seven asked, coming to a standstill on the ice, and grabbing the railing with one hand for support.
"Nothing to talk about really," he lied, "everyone has or has had a mother and a father, I'm no different, there's nothing really exceptional about my family so I don't ramble on about them all of the time, is that a crime?"
"No," she noticed that he became a little defensive whenever she questioned him about his relations. "So is you're mother still alive?"
"Yeah," he shrugged.
"What's she like?" This was the closest that she had come to learning anything about his family and she wasn't going to pass up the opportunity.
"She's a mother," Tad answered bluntly, "she gave birth to me, raised me, sent me to boarding school and forgot about me, any other family members you'd like to know about?"
"Why are you being like this?" She could see that he obviously wasn't enjoying the conversation, and was looking more and more uncomfortable with each question that she asked.
"I don't want to talk about this anymore," he looked away from her, and she saw in his face what she could only describe as sadness.
"I'm sorry," she paused, and attempted to pick up the tone "from what I've heard it is tradition to have hot chocolate after ice skating."
He looked back at her, relief in his face that she had decided to stop asking him questions. "I think the kitchen's this way," he grabbed her by the hand and lead her slowly over to a break in the wall of the ice rink.
Seven shivered and Tad turned protectively round, "you cold?" he asked seeing herself entwine her arms around her body.
"I little," she confirmed.
He nodded, and proceeded to remove his jacket, "put this round your shoulders," he said leading her over to a seat in the empty restaurant. She took the jacket and did as he had suggested before sitting down at a table. "It is a little cold in here," he admitted, "but I don't want to mess with the environmental controls in case I set an alarm off."
Seven waited patiently as Tad disappeared behind the counter to make her a hot chocolate, reappearing minutes later with two mugs in his hands. He set them down on the table, and she noticed that he didn't have hot chocolate in his own mug.
"You aren't having hot chocolate?" she enquired.
He shook his head, "caffeine intolerant," he explained.
"You never mentioned-"
"You never asked," the said with a smile.
"Have you always been caffeine intolerant?"
"As far as I know," he smiled at, what was for her an unexpected revelation, "when I was small I used to get upset that other children were able to have chocolate and I wasn't, and my godfather: Alex told me that the best superheroes had to have a weakness, like superman and Krypton," Seven looked at him blankly, "cartoon character, I'll explain later. Anyway, Alex told me that my intolerance just meant that I was one step closer than most other people to being a superhero."
Seven smiled, pleased that he was confiding even a small piece of information in her, even though it seemed trivial, it was a step closer to him being able to confide in her totally. "But then of course, this is the same godfather that told me I was individual- just like everyone else, and that superheroes are worthless pieces of shit that fly about in tight fitting latex," Tad lowered the tone slightly, but only to make Seven laugh.
"And this man was your godfather?" she asked through laughter.
"Apparently," Tad crossed his arms, "I never did quite understood why my parents chose him to be my godfather, I guess he wasn't quite as cynical when I was a baby."
Eventually the laughter ebbed, and they sat in a comfortable silence. "Do you want to go back out on the ice, or do you want me to walk you home?" Tad asked when he noticed that she had finished her drink.
"I was hoping I could talk to you about something," her face was serious, and he could instantly see that she was finding it hard to breach what ever topic she wanted to talk about.
"Sure," he took her hand in his.
"I went to the doctor yesterday, as I was experiencing some abnormalities," she started, Tad wasn't sure he like where this conversation was heading, but listened intently regardless, "eventually the cause was diagnosed, and it seems that my cortical node is failing."
Tad nodded slowly, since he had begun dating Seven he had done some research into her Borg physiology, so as to better understand her need for regeneration and any other needs that she may have as a Borg. He understood that without her cortical node she would not survive, and the thought of losing her scared him. "Has the doctor figured out a way for you to live without it?" he asked with a calm exterior.
She shook her head slowly, "but he is working on a solution," she tried to reassure them both.
"Do you have long?" he asked, his world slowly being picked apart, again.
"I have some months left," she tried to sound confident, but he could tell that she was anything but that.
"Do you mind if I assist the doctor in his research to find a solution?" he asked for her permission, although he was certain if she said no he would help anyway.
She paused, and after some brief though nodded, "but I would not wish for it to interfere with your work."
~*~
End of Chapter 9
Chapter 9: Caffeine intolerance
"Do you know why you're here?"
"Because you're a bitch."
"That's not the reason."
"So if you know why I'm here why are you asking me if I know why I'm here, it's obvious that I don't know, so why don't you just get over with it and tell me why I'm here."
"You know why you're here, I don't have to tell you."
"And all I know is that you're a bitch, so I'm going to say that is the reason."
"Why do you think I'm a bitch?"
"I don't think, but I do know, it's just one of those things, you either know or you don't know. I don't want to talk any more."
"You're going to have to some time. . . Okay, we'll end it here for today."
~*~
San Francisco, September 8th 2379.
He was humming, he always hummed, it was just something that he did. Well, he didn't always hum, because sometimes he sang, and sometimes his program was offline, and sometimes it wasn't appropriate to hum, but on this occasion he was humming. He heard the door open from behind him and turned to see Seven standing at the entrance, the doctor beamed, "what can I do for you today Seven?" he asked.
She came further into the room, her face was like steel, which usually meant that she was upset or unsettled about something, and so she put on the mask to prevent others from realising this. "I am here on a medical matter," she informed him.
The doctor picked up a triquader, "yes," he encouraged her to carry on.
"I have experienced severe headaches, eye strains, and at times imbalance," she described her symptoms to him.
He took the triquader over to her and began scanning, "hum," he said.
"Is there something wrong doctor?" she asked.
He looked up, suddenly aware that he had said anything at all, "I'm not sure," he stepped away from her, and transferred the readings over to a console, "it's probably nothing," he said clicking some more buttons, "this may take some time. So, how are you?" he distracted her from asking what he thought was wrong.
"As I have said-" she began, but the doctor held up a hand.
"No, with your work, friends- love life," he raised an eyebrow in waiting for a response to the latter of the list.
She smiled slightly, "you mean Tad," she correctly guessed.
"Everything alright between the two of you?"
"We have our disagreements, but in general he is easy to get on with. He has just suggested moving an alcove into his apartment, so that I could stay over more often, instead of having to return to my own apartment to regenerate." She added a little unsurely, she wasn't too sure of how her mentor was going to react to this change, but she hoped that he would be happy for her.
He did seem to smile, but she could tell that the smile was only for her benefit, "well I hope it works out for you," he said, although she wasn't entirely certain that he meant it.
There was a bleep from the console telling them both that what ever the doctor had set the computer to do with the scans had finished. Quickly he made his way back over, and looked down a little hesitantly at the readings. "Is there something wrong?" Seven asked a little nervously.
The doctor looked up a little reluctantly, wishing that he didn't have to be the one to tell her, "I'll have to run some more scans again, but I think that your cortical implant is in the early stages of failing."
Seven's heart skipped a beat, she could remember the first time that he cortical implant had begun to fail, and was certain that she didn't want to go through the experience for a second time. "And what if it is failing?" she asked.
He pulled a face, "it might not be," he pointed out, "but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
~*~
Normandy, France, 10th September 2379.
"Where are we going?" Seven asked Tad as they approached a rather large looking building.
"Ah," he said teasingly pulling her gently along with her hand in his, "that would be telling."
"Well I'm asking you to tell me," she said lightly.
"If I told you it would spoil the surprise, and besides you'll find out soon enough." They had almost reached the door to the building, and Tad had now reached into his pockets searching for something, "however if I can't find the keys then it won't be much of a surprise."
"Tad, you know I'm not very good with surprises," she stressed.
He turned to her and smiled, "found them," he said at last, removing some keys from his pocket. Turning from her he placed the key into the lock and turned it, until they heard a click, "well," he said, "at least they're the right ones."
Seven pulled an exasperated face as he opened the door, holding the door open with one arm he over exaggerated a bow, "after you madam," he said.
A little hesitantly she entered into a dark room, before Tad closed the door he turned a light on, and she could see that they were in a lightly decorated lounge, "where are we?" she asked.
"Uh, staff lounge I guess," he shrugged and headed towards a door at the other end of the room, he tried it only to find that it was locked, and so headed towards another door, there was a click from this one, and he opened it out wide, peaking through the gap, "I think this is the right one."
"You think!" Seven said wearily.
"I've never come through this way before," he defended himself, "come on, it's up here."
Before she could argue he had disappeared through the door, sighing she too headed for the door, only to find that it opened up onto steps escalating to a second floor. Tad was standing at the top, beaming widely, "you're okay to run right?" he asked.
Seven headed up the steps, "yes, why?"
"Well if we trigger off any security devices then we might have to run, but I've been told that they've all been deactivated, so we should be okay."
Seven glared at him, but stopped when she reached the top of the steps. They were standing on the top of a balcony about three metres up and to the side or an ice rink. The rink its self was large and oval, with stands of seats either side obviously for spectators to ice shows. "I know how you don't like large crowds of people, so I figured you'd enjoy ice skating more at a time when no one was around."
When she saw that he was smiling, she could do nothing but to smile also, "that was very, considerate of you," it was the closest thing that she could say to 'oh wow, this is a wonderful surprise' and Tad realised this and his smile widened knowing that she was happy.
"We'd better get skates," he said, breaking her away from staring at the rink.
"Can you skate?" she asked, following him across the wide balcony and down another set of steps.
"I'm okay," he shrugged, getting to the counter where skates were usually exchanged for shoes and sliding over.
"How did you get the rink while it was empty?" she raised her voice as he disappeared into a room behind the counter.
He reappeared with two pairs of skates, one in each hand, "I friend of a friend, and a favour was owed somewhere along the line," he slid back over and handed her a pair of skates.
"This friend of yours, does he work at the rink?"
"Used to," Tad said, sitting on the edge of a seat and taking his own boots off, "but he got fired for letting the rink out illegally to friends."
Seven glared at him, "is that the truth?"
"Are you going to put those skates on or what?" he asked, nodding his head in the direction of the skates that she was still holding.
Eventually Seven gave up questioning him about the details of the arrangements he had made to get the rink, and went on to the ice. Tad, she found, had lied, or more precisely had undermined his own abilities on the ice, he wasn't just okay at skating, he was excellent.
"Where did you learn to skate?" she asked as he caught her again before she fell on the ice.
"I used to skate with my parents when I was small, and then when my dad died my mum continued to take me," he skated backwards and held her hands in his, as she skated clumsily forwards.
"I didn't realise that your dad had died," she came close to falling again, but Tad was prepared for this slip, and pulled her back to her feet before she even touched the ground.
"You never asked," he shrugged, "you know you wouldn't fall over quite as much if you stopped leaning backwards when you're skating."
"It's not the sort of question that you ask someone," she pointed out to him, "and why shouldn't I lean backwards, you are."
"Only because I'm an excellent skater," he joked.
"Why don't you talk about your family much?" Seven asked, coming to a standstill on the ice, and grabbing the railing with one hand for support.
"Nothing to talk about really," he lied, "everyone has or has had a mother and a father, I'm no different, there's nothing really exceptional about my family so I don't ramble on about them all of the time, is that a crime?"
"No," she noticed that he became a little defensive whenever she questioned him about his relations. "So is you're mother still alive?"
"Yeah," he shrugged.
"What's she like?" This was the closest that she had come to learning anything about his family and she wasn't going to pass up the opportunity.
"She's a mother," Tad answered bluntly, "she gave birth to me, raised me, sent me to boarding school and forgot about me, any other family members you'd like to know about?"
"Why are you being like this?" She could see that he obviously wasn't enjoying the conversation, and was looking more and more uncomfortable with each question that she asked.
"I don't want to talk about this anymore," he looked away from her, and she saw in his face what she could only describe as sadness.
"I'm sorry," she paused, and attempted to pick up the tone "from what I've heard it is tradition to have hot chocolate after ice skating."
He looked back at her, relief in his face that she had decided to stop asking him questions. "I think the kitchen's this way," he grabbed her by the hand and lead her slowly over to a break in the wall of the ice rink.
Seven shivered and Tad turned protectively round, "you cold?" he asked seeing herself entwine her arms around her body.
"I little," she confirmed.
He nodded, and proceeded to remove his jacket, "put this round your shoulders," he said leading her over to a seat in the empty restaurant. She took the jacket and did as he had suggested before sitting down at a table. "It is a little cold in here," he admitted, "but I don't want to mess with the environmental controls in case I set an alarm off."
Seven waited patiently as Tad disappeared behind the counter to make her a hot chocolate, reappearing minutes later with two mugs in his hands. He set them down on the table, and she noticed that he didn't have hot chocolate in his own mug.
"You aren't having hot chocolate?" she enquired.
He shook his head, "caffeine intolerant," he explained.
"You never mentioned-"
"You never asked," the said with a smile.
"Have you always been caffeine intolerant?"
"As far as I know," he smiled at, what was for her an unexpected revelation, "when I was small I used to get upset that other children were able to have chocolate and I wasn't, and my godfather: Alex told me that the best superheroes had to have a weakness, like superman and Krypton," Seven looked at him blankly, "cartoon character, I'll explain later. Anyway, Alex told me that my intolerance just meant that I was one step closer than most other people to being a superhero."
Seven smiled, pleased that he was confiding even a small piece of information in her, even though it seemed trivial, it was a step closer to him being able to confide in her totally. "But then of course, this is the same godfather that told me I was individual- just like everyone else, and that superheroes are worthless pieces of shit that fly about in tight fitting latex," Tad lowered the tone slightly, but only to make Seven laugh.
"And this man was your godfather?" she asked through laughter.
"Apparently," Tad crossed his arms, "I never did quite understood why my parents chose him to be my godfather, I guess he wasn't quite as cynical when I was a baby."
Eventually the laughter ebbed, and they sat in a comfortable silence. "Do you want to go back out on the ice, or do you want me to walk you home?" Tad asked when he noticed that she had finished her drink.
"I was hoping I could talk to you about something," her face was serious, and he could instantly see that she was finding it hard to breach what ever topic she wanted to talk about.
"Sure," he took her hand in his.
"I went to the doctor yesterday, as I was experiencing some abnormalities," she started, Tad wasn't sure he like where this conversation was heading, but listened intently regardless, "eventually the cause was diagnosed, and it seems that my cortical node is failing."
Tad nodded slowly, since he had begun dating Seven he had done some research into her Borg physiology, so as to better understand her need for regeneration and any other needs that she may have as a Borg. He understood that without her cortical node she would not survive, and the thought of losing her scared him. "Has the doctor figured out a way for you to live without it?" he asked with a calm exterior.
She shook her head slowly, "but he is working on a solution," she tried to reassure them both.
"Do you have long?" he asked, his world slowly being picked apart, again.
"I have some months left," she tried to sound confident, but he could tell that she was anything but that.
"Do you mind if I assist the doctor in his research to find a solution?" he asked for her permission, although he was certain if she said no he would help anyway.
She paused, and after some brief though nodded, "but I would not wish for it to interfere with your work."
~*~
End of Chapter 9