AN: I have never written these characters. However, I love them, and I was discussing this with a friend, and I just wanted to write it.
You can consider this something of a crackfic. I'm not suggesting it's likely to happen, etc. It's just something I wanted to write, so I'm writing it. There will be other chapters, especially if it's anything that interests anyone besides just myself.
I own nothing from Star Trek or any of its shows. This is just for entertainment.
I hope that you enjoy! Please don't forget to let me know what you think!
111
"Logically, my Borg modifications make me a more suitable candidate for gestation," Seven said.
Raffi swallowed back her amusement. She did her best to push back all emotion—not wanting to irritate Seven in any way while they discussed this for the three-hundredth and, hopefully, last time. To distract herself, she touched her finger to the PADD and flicked through the pages that they'd read together a thousand times before.
In the morning, they would begin what could arguably be seen as one of their greatest acts as a couple. They could only dream, at this moment, of all that life may hold for them as they continued their relationship together.
Their happy union, with any luck, would become even happier—if that were at all possible.
The only confirmation that Raffi gave to Seven that she'd heard her—the only confirmation she dared to give, lest the woman start to change her mind again—was a somewhat non-committal hum.
It was non-commitment or, rather, commitment issues that had made it take so long for them to reach this point, honestly.
Raffi had been ready to commit to Seven on an unexpected level from nearly the moment that their eyes had first met. She'd felt a connection with Seven that rivaled any connection she'd ever felt with anyone else. Seven, she knew, had felt the same with her. The difference was that, whereas Raffi had felt immediately invigorated and curious to see what might come of connecting to someone so entirely, Seven had seemed to fear that kind of connection.
Loving Seven, and guiding Seven to a place where she felt like she could trust Raffi, had taught Raffi a patience that she hadn't known before. It had taught her how to listen where she used to react without enough consideration. In exchange, she had earned the love of the woman—for she couldn't think of Seven as any less than a woman, even when some others identified her as Borg first—with whom she now imagined spending the rest of her life.
She had earned the love of the woman with whom she planned to create new life.
"My body is strong," Seven said, responding to Raffi's hum exactly as she wanted to interpret it—Raffi wasn't yet sure how that might be, but she could be quiet and wait. "The Borg modifications will make gestation and delivery easier. I'm better prepared to heal afterward and to prepare, should we choose, to engage in the process a second time with less need for extended recovery."
The DNA retrieval had taken place three weeks before, and both of them had provided eggs to the Fertilization Center of the Los Angeles Research Hospital. They'd been thoroughly tested. They had been provided with their genetic profiles, and they'd sat and discussed every possible result of their genetic mixing and mingling. They had signed everything that declared that they understood the possible results—the same as if they were able to naturally procreate without the intervention of technology—and they'd moved forward with the process.
Their genetic material had been reworked, slightly, according the most state-of-the-art processes, and they were finally ready to move forward with the fertilization of embryos that would come from both of them. Their children would be as much the genetic offspring of each of them as any heterosexual couple's children ever would be.
The only question that remained was which of them would carry their children or, at least, the first of their children.
"I think you would look adorable pregnant," Raffi offered, still flipping through the pages she practically knew by heart and daring to imagine what their children might be like.
"My appearance would be irrelevant," Seven said.
Raffi smiled, but she swallowed it back quickly. She pushed herself up and crawled across the bed on her knees. Seven sat on the edge of the bed, facing the dresser so that she could see herself in the mirror. She wasn't looking at herself, but Raffi looked at both of their reflections as she pressed herself against Seven's back and rested her chin against Seven's shoulder.
"Your appearance is never irrelevant to me," Raffi said, keeping her voice soft. She gave Seven a small, sincere smile. She saw Seven's features soften. With her body pressed against Seven's, Raffi could feel the slight irregularity of her breathing.
Seven was nervous. She was emotional. She wouldn't admit to either at the moment, but Raffi could tell. She'd spent a good deal of time, lately, studying Seven's emotions. She could tell from a change in breathing—no matter how carefully Seven tried to hide it—a change in pulse, a change in pupil dilation, or even a change in the shape of Seven's eyebrows, how she was feeling.
Raffi turned her head slightly and kissed the crook of Seven's neck. For a brief moment, she took a tour and kissed the soft skin on the back of Seven's neck. She kissed further around so that she could move to the other side of her neck—all the while, allowing her hands to explore a little. They caught Seven's thighs and squeezed. They moved the soft silk of her nightgown—one that Raffi had given her because it was soft, and delicate, and everything that Seven sometimes dreamed of being, even when she feared to admit it because she feared it wasn't possible or desirable—upward as her fingers kneaded the skin there.
Raffi kissed up Seven's neck and, extending the tip of her tongue, lightly licked Seven's earlobe before drawing it into her mouth and sucking it. Just as she'd hoped, the action elicited a shiver that ran through Seven's body. Raffi flicked her eyes toward the mirror and saw that Seven had closed her eyes, and her breathing had changed its rhythm a little.
"Your appearance is always relevant to me," Raffi said, keeping her voice low and speaking just at Seven's ear, "because I always think you're beautiful. No matter what. I think that—you would be the best choice to carry our children."
Seven took a long moment, and Raffi let her have it. She sat, curling slightly backwards into Raffi, with her eyes closed. Raffi offered the physical comfort that she knew Seven was seeking, pressing her body against Seven's back, and watched her reflection in the mirror. They had had some variation of this conversation a dozen times before, but Raffi would have it again if Seven needed such a thing from her.
"Perhaps," Seven said, pausing and leaving a long silence between that word and anything she might want to add, "I am not the most…maternal…choice for the gestation."
Raffi swallowed back her desire to point out that, maybe, if they were talking about their future children, they might want to use more affectionate terms in place of the clinical ones. There was time for everything—and there was a need to pick one's battles. Raffi hadn't always known that, or known how to practice it, but her relationship with Seven had taught her that.
"You are…perfectly maternal," Raffi offered. "Feminine. Delicate." She was careful with the word. She tensed upon saying it. She wanted to elicit the right response. She quickly added to what she was saying. "And strong—so strong. You have everything you need to carry them. You have everything they need. You are the best…best…choice for carrying our children, Seven."
Raffi backed up enough to let her fingers find the muscles of Seven's shoulders. She kneaded those muscles. She gave Seven whatever time she may need—they'd taken this long to decide, and to really settle on a choice, so there was no need to rush now. Raffi recognized the many feelings that Seven was grappling with because they'd discussed them before. They would, likely, discuss them again. Maybe, the need to help Seven with her feelings, especially since Seven had been there to help Raffi with all of hers, made Raffi that much more determined that she would offer any support that she could to make her partner—her wife—feel confident about the choice she was making—the choice they were making.
Raffi felt the give in Seven's muscles as she relaxed. She peered over Seven's shoulder and smiled at the reflection when Seven's eyelids slid open and her blue eyes met Raffi's in the reflection.
"If you want to change your mind," Raffi offered.
"I am the logical choice," Seven said.
Raffi laughed quietly and allowed herself the amusement.
"We're not Vulcans," she teased. "We're allowed to do things based on our emotions and not always on reason. If you don't want to carry our children…"
Raffi saw the expression that Seven made. For a brief second, anyone watching might have thought that Raffi had pinched her or otherwise caused her some quick sensation of sharp discomfort. It was gone almost as quickly as it had registered on Seven's beautiful features, but Raffi hadn't missed it. Seven did want to carry their children. She wanted to carry them desperately. Raffi didn't force her to respond. Instead, she returned to kneading her muscles with affection.
"That feels—remarkable," Seven commented.
Raffi smiled at the compliment. She nuzzled Seven's neck a moment before continuing her work.
"The appointment is at eight," Raffi said. "We'll tell them our decision. They'll run the final tests—which we know are really just for the research and data tables—and then you'll begin the hormone treatments there. Two weeks of preparation and adjustment to your cycle, and we'll go back for our little one."
"It is possible that the embryo will not implant successfully," Seven said.
"It's possible," Raffi agreed. "But—it's more likely that it will."
"If it doesn't," Seven said, "then it may be proof that I'm not as well-suited for the gestation as we thought."
Raffi smiled at Seven. This time, she moved so that she could turn Seven's face toward her. She kissed her quickly—sweetly—and then she sat holding her face in her hands. She felt the soft skin of Seven's face. She'd never imagined loving—not like this.
"It's only proof that a second cycle is needed," Raffi said. "And that's not unusual. You read the fact sheets. It can regularly take up to five cycles for it to be successful the first time." She shook her head gently. "We're not giving up after one. I'm not letting you give up."
Seven seemed to practically melt in Raffi's hands, and Raffi sighed, happy with the final relaxation that she sensed beneath her fingertips.
"I love you," Raffi said.
"I have never loved anyone as I love you," Seven assured her. "Nor—have I ever been loved…quite like this."
Raffi heard the pause, and the hesitation. She recognized what wasn't said. She felt it deep within her.
"Ditto," Raffi said, smiling at Seven, her heart swelling with affection and tenderness toward the woman. "And tomorrow? We start—this whole adventure together."
"An adventure?" Seven asked. She showed the first sign of amusement that Raffi had seen in probably a day and a half. She raised her eyebrow at Raffi and did a poor job of swallowing back a smile. Raffi welcomed that expression and all that it meant.
"An adventure of becoming a family," Raffi said. "Of becoming more than what we are. More—of what we are."
"And what are we?" Seven asked.
"Happy," Raffi said without hesitation. "We are happy."
Seven nodded, Raffi's hands moved with her as they continued to hold her face gently.
"It would make me happy to carry our children," Seven admitted.
"It would make me happy to help you, in every way, while you carried our children," Raffi offered.
Seven raised an eyebrow.
"But—you mustn't be…overbearing."
Raffi smiled. She shook her head, already knowing she was probably lying, and already knowing that Seven likely knew that she was lying, too.
"I wouldn't dream of it. Come on. Let's go to bed. Tomorrow's a big day and we both need our rest."
"We're going to bed just to sleep?" Seven asked.
"I guess you're not tired?"
"It's hardly twenty-one hundred hours," Seven said.
"Fine," Raffi said. "Then—let's go to bed anyway. I can think of a few foolproof ways I know to get you feeling exhausted and sleepy."
"Did you know that oxytocin is one of the body's hormones produced during sexual intercourse and the embracing that takes place afterward?"
Raffi pursed her lips at Seven.
"I'll store that under useful information," she teased.
"It's also been found to be beneficial to gestation," Seven said.
Raffi smiled. She leaned and kissed Seven. This time, her anxiety somewhat relieved, Seven kissed Raffi back with enthusiasm. She nipped at Raffi's lip, and a familiar sensation of want ran through Raffi's body. Raffi smiled at her when the kiss broke. She winked at Seven playfully.
"Then, we'll just have to make sure that you have it in absolute abundance. Why don't we start now?"
"I can't think of any reason to object," Seven confirmed.