Disclaimer: Only the story is mine. Everything else belongs to Paramount. kicks Paramount But they've abandoned their characters and stuff and did really nutso things to them, so I delete Paramount. I'm not making any money off this, so leave me alone, Paramount minions! I wrote this story, which was my very first ever Voyager fanfic, in August, 2000. It was not beta'd. This story contains a relationship between two women, so if that offends you, please read something else.
Code: T/7.
Genre: Romance, Drama
Rating: PG-13
Ghosts, Chapter 9
On the bridge of the USS Voyager, Harry Kim picked up a distress signal originating from not far ahead, blinking a short message, then it stopped. It was only one burst, but he caught it and called out to the captain.
"What is it, Ensign?"
"I just picked up a distress call." The captain turned to look at him.
"Where from?"
"Dead ahead on our current course. We'll reach it in about three hours if I'm not mistaken."
"Is it a message?" Harry looked down at the small data in front of him. It would have been so easy to miss.
"I can't tell, captain, it's encoded. But it was only sent once and it's very small, like someone didn't want the wrong person picking it up."
"What kind of encoding is it?" Harry was already working on that. Suddenly, his head shot up and he looked, startled, at the captain.
"It's Borg."
"Borg!" The captain rose from her seat. "Send it down to Icheb in Astrometrics, see if he can decode it."
"Yes, Ma'am." Harry pressed a few buttons on the console and the little message was sent to Astrometrics. Less than a minute later, Icheb hailed the bridge.
"Icheb to the bridge."
"Go ahead," Janeway answered.
"Where did you get this message?"
"It was just sent to us, what does it say?"
"It's just three letters, captain. S-O-S. Unless it's the Klingon word for mother, I do believe it stands for—"
"Save Our Ship," Kathryn finished.
"Yes. But captain, the Borg do not use code like this. It is... It reminds me of..."
"Yes? Go on."
"Before Mezoti left, she took a fascination in the old earth methods of code, especially Morse code. She knows the particular encoding used in this message."
"You're saying," Kathryn looked over at Chakotay, who cocked his head to the side, "That you think Mezoti might have sent this message?"
"That, captain, is exactly what I'm saying".
The dress was velvet black and soft, shining ever so slightly in the dim light of the cargo bay. Seven looked around at her space. It was hers again, Icheb having moved into his own quarters months before, shortly after he saved her life by nearly giving his own.
Now the room was too large, the extra alcoves dark and cold. Seven shook her head, trying to banish the unproductive thoughts and slipped out of her biosuit. She set the biosuit in the storage closet she used for her clothing. She took off her utilitarian Starfleet issue grey bra and set it in its place in the closet.
Seven walked back over to the dress that she had laid across a cargo crate and picked it up again. She had never worn just a dress. Usually, if she wore a dress, it was just another biosuit, fashioned to look like a dress, courtesy of the doctor. But this was a real dress, replicated for form over function and Seven was shy about putting it on.
She had replicated a bra to go with it, simple black silk with just a hint of lace. She put on the bra and resumed looking at the dress. After a few minutes of just stroking the material, she finally slipped it on. It glided down her body, soft and form-fitting. She smoothed out imaginary wrinkles and wished for a full-length mirror to view how she looked. But such a thing was not practical, so she didn't own one.
She never thought she would regret that. She walked over to the small mirror she allowed herself for styling her hair each day. She let her hair down from its usual style and watched it fall down over her shoulders. She picked up her hairbrush and brushed it until it shined, falling behind her shoulders and down her back in soft waves. She pulled back the front of it until she finally decided that it looked nice enough for a fist date.
Date—she was going on a date. With B'Elanna Torres. A shiver of excitement ran over her body and she quickly slipped on the comfortable black, low-heeled shoes. She returned to the mirror to check her hair once more when she heard a peculiar sound. The door chimed. She looked at it, unaware that it could do that, considering the fact that usually, no one asked her permission to enter, they just came in.
She rather liked the sound of the chime. Then the sound came again and she realized that she should give them permission to enter. "Enter," she called and the doors slid open. B'Elanna stood in a thin-strapped, crimson dress of a similar material to Seven's. Seven flashed briefly on running her hands down that dress, then felt herself blush slightly.
B'Elanna, for her part, didn't notice. While Seven was staring at what she considered the most beautiful person in the galaxy, B'Elanna was staring, in her mind, at the same person. And indeed, they were a pair. Seven's milky skin glowed in the tight black dress whose sleeves were only long enough to cover the implant on her right shoulder and the slit that ran up the left side flashed some beautiful leg when she moved towards B'Elanna.
B'Elanna's creamy caramel complexion was complemented by the dark crimson dress and Seven glanced down to see that the high heels she wore sculpted her calves gorgeously. Seven stepped up to B'Elanna and did what she had felt the urge to do on many occasions—she ran her fingers through the other woman's hair. B'Elanna closed her eyes at the caress, her lips parting slightly.
"Seven," she breathed.
"Yes?" Seven asked quietly. B'Elanna looked up into her eyes and smiled.
"Shall we?" B'Elanna held out her arm and Seven took it, smiling back.
It was bound to happen. Seven had mastered crying, its opposite was sure to follow. She felt the laughter bubbling up inside of her and suddenly it erupted. The bark of laughter startled and embarrassed Seven at once. B'Elanna was immediately grinning ear to ear as Seven blushed.
"What's wrong?" B'Elanna wrinkled her nose in concern and Seven had to smile again, the gesture was just too cute not to.
"My laugh is... loud." B'Elanna started laughing.
"Don't tell me about loud laughs. You should have heard the way this kid in my class at school laughed when we were fifteen. He defined the term 'braying laugh.' He really sounded like a donkey!" B'Elanna demonstrated the laugh for Seven, which completely broke down Seven's new resolve never to laugh again. This time her laughter wasn't as loud, if it was still as abrupt.
But Seven began growing a little uneasy as she remembered that Voyager was hurdling through space to rescue Naomi Wildman, who could not be laughing herself at this moment. Guilt overwhelmed her and she began to shake.
"What is it?" B'Elanna asked worriedly, pausing with her food halfway to her lips, the linguini noodles dangling, threatening to fall.
"I was thinking about Naomi Wildman." Seven looked at her own half-eaten food and wondered briefly if Naomi was eating anything, or if they were even feeding her. B'Elanna put her fork down.
"Listen to me, Seven." Seven looked up and obeyed the quiet command. "There is nothing you can do about Naomi right now." B'Elanna raised her hand to stop Seven from interrupting with some chore she could create to make herself feel useful. "No, you've already done your part, the most important part before rescuing her—making the rescue possible. Now it's up to the captain and pilot to get us there. When we get there, you will use the deflector to break her out. But until then, you have to think about what Naomi would want."
"She would want me to rescue her and not rest until she is safe on the ship."
"Not at your own expense, though. Naomi would be happy for you that you're learning to laugh, that you're actually trying to enjoy yourself. She's your friend and she would want you to be happy. I'm worried, too, but Seven, you have to learn to live or else there's no reason to go on."
"I am alive," Seven said, puzzled.
"There's more to living than just a functioning body. You have to feel alive. Borg drones are technically alive, but would you say that they're living? Did you feel like you were alive?" Seven thought seriously on the subject.
"No."
"Then learn to enjoy life now, make up for what was taken from you. When we get Naomi back," B'Elanna promised, stressing 'when,' "Then she'll be immensely happy to see that you missed her, but didn't stagnate because she was gone. I'm sure that Naomi would love to hear you laugh, to see you smile." B'Elanna smiled at her. "I can't think of anyone who couldn't." They sat in silence for a minute while it all sank in for Seven, then she smiled over at B'Elanna gratefully.
"Thank you." The evening went on, with laughter, silly stories, deep thoughts and a growing sense of newfound happiness for both women.
And so it came as a great disappointment when Seven realized that the time to regenerate was drawing near, because she found that she was actually having... fun. She froze with the glass of sparkling grape juice (that B'Elanna had replicated in respect for Seven's dislike of the effects synthehol had on her body) just below her lips. B'Elanna noticed and asked what was wrong.
"Nothing. I just had a realization." Seven set the glass down on the coffee table. "I am having fun." B'Elanna smiled at Seven, but her smile faded as Seven's eyes lowered to her lap.
"What?" B'Elanna leaned toward Seven, putting her hand on the other young woman's leg.
"I should return to my alcove to regenerate." B'Elanna's eyes fell as well. Her heart fluttered confusedly, wondering what she had done wrong.
"I suppose it is getting late." She looked down at her hands and began picking at an imaginary imperfection in her nail to hide her disappointment. Seven stood and she followed her to the door. At the last moment, Seven spun, her eyes wide and upset.
"I do not wish to leave," she proclaimed in a voice that sounded like a little girl begging her mother not to go anywhere without her. A voice that needed reassurance and love. B'Elanna immediately offered that reassurance as she gently put one hand on Seven's hip and guided the beautiful blonde back to her, meeting her descending lips halfway. She lost herself in the silk of Seven's lips, the warmth of her embrace, feeling calm and peacefully happy at first.
They moved back to the couch to explore each other's eyes, their lips and mouths. A passion began building and the heat of their bodies began rising with it. Seven's fingers began dancing lightly up and down B'Elanna's hand, moving upwards ever so slowly, until she had reached the shoulder that the half-Klingon's dress left so enticingly bare.
Seven sat back and trailed her hand gently around the creamy shoulder, down the warm, soft skin. B'Elanna licked her lips, her breath changing at the touch. Seven looked up and into B'Elanna's eyes and felt a thrill at the reaction she invoked. She leisurely stroked the reacting flesh of her arm, playing lightly, barely touching, rubbing strongly over the palm of B'Elanna's hand, bringing the Klingon to short panting breaths of need, while things low in her belly twitched and moved.
Seven's breath started matching pace as she saw what this gentle touch did to the fiery young woman next to her and her hand moved across the back of B'Elanna's neck to flick gently across the baby hairs at her nape. B'Elanna let out a small sound of pleasure that made Seven's pulse thunder in her ears. B'Elanna's hand clutched at the fabric over Seven's thigh, running her nails down it lightly. Seven released a breath she hadn't known she had been holding and her mouth made its way to B'Elanna's hungrily.
B'Elanna wrapped her arms around Seven's shoulders and swung herself in a position to straddle her. Caramel hands found their way through silken blonde hair, clutching it carefully as a pressure inside her began threatening to explode.
Seven felt new desires beginning, burning through her body like a seismic disturbance. She couldn't seem to catch her breath or hold B'Elanna close enough as her hands clutched at the soft back of the woman in her arms, bringing her as close as she could without hurting her. Something in her mind began warning her that things were happening too fast and she stopped.
She held B'Elanna a little away from her, gazing at her beautiful face, with eyes closed in bliss and lips slightly pursed and swollen. Her breathing still labored, she managed to express her desire not to move so quickly. B'Elanna let out a shaking breath and agreed, turning slightly and snuggling against Seven's chest, listening to the frantic beating of her heart.
To be continued...
