~ Seven of Nine ~
"Open your mouth and say 'hypospray,'" the Doctor joked.
Seven was not amused. Throughout the past month and a half, she had suffered from severe headaches as a result of no regeneration chamber. Icheb had quickly adapted to sleep, but Seven was having trouble adjusting. Laying down on one's back in unconsciousness for an extended amount of time did not seem like an efficient way to regenerate. The Doctor prodded her again.
"Seven, I need to take a tissue sample for tests. And with the primitive equipment at my disposal," he eyes the Petri dishes, "I'm afraid I have to resort to primitive techniques." Seven eyed the Doctor, who was waving around the appliance with which he wished to extract her cells with, and opened her mouth just the tiniest bit.
"Wider," the Doctor prompted. She opened it a little more. He proceeded to shove the stick inside, successfully prying her jaw open another few centimeters. He swabbed around for a few moments, and then removed it, looking joyful.
"Thank you, Seven." He ushered her out of his 'sickbay' and called out "Next victim!" Seven walked past an ensign who was looking particularly nervous about what 'primitive techniques' the Doctor was going to use. She cast an amused glance over her shoulder as the ensign proceeded into the Doctor's office. Keeping a brisk pace, Seven headed toward the science lab that had been set up in Voyager's little community. So far, several small houses had been set up on the perimeter of the clearing, each bunking four people. They were built out of lumber which had been cut down. It wouldn't hold in a wintertime environment, however, early geological surveys showed that this planet, which the crew had dubbed Haven, had a fairly consistent temperature. All of the other building were going to be put in the middle of the huts. A science lab with equipment nearly as antiqued as the Doctor's was already built, along with a mess hall run by none other than Neelix. A sickbay of sorts was still under construction, along with a bathing facility that was being set up about an eighth of a kilometer away next to the stream.
Stepping into the "lab," Seven carefully avoided the Captain. Janeway was at a microscope, studying whatever was under it. In the past three days, the Captain seemed to have awaken from her depression and become fanatic in her quest to learn more about the planet. Seven had come in this morning, only to find that Janeway had stayed through the night. Of course the Captain wanted to learn more about her new home, but why should she be allowed to stay up when Seven was forced to perform in this ridiculous ritual known as sleep? Whatever her reasons, Seven chose to ignore them. She set herself to work classifying poisonous plants.
Several hours later, and it was already 2030. Seven began packing away samples knowing the Doctor would soon come to escort her to the bunk that she shared with Icheb, Tuvok, and Vorik. The Doctor often deactivated himself at her bedside, in case she had trouble falling asleep and required assistance.
As she packed the plants into their individual containers, Chakotay came in and put a hand on Janeway's ever working form. Leaning down, he whispered something in her ear, and she just shook her head, eye's still glued on the microscope. The former drone felt a twinge of – what was it? – regret. Her and Chakotay's relationship had come to an abrupt halt during the first week on Haven.
Seven placed an arm around Chakotay, looking for the comfort she had always assumed came with a mate. It sat there for a moment, limp, still searching for warmth. Chakotay finally pushed it away, looking into her eyes. The night's darkness prevented her from actually seeing him, but she could feel the heat of his gaze boring into her. A warm rush of air swept away the silence that hung between them.
"Seven, this has to end." She was at a lost for words. Her lessons with the Doctor never covered breaking up. She had assumed that Chakotay was the one for her, and that their relationship was secure, her own private collective that was never-ending. And with that, Chakotay gave her one final kiss on her forehead, a gentle, feather light kiss of a father, stood up, and walked away.
And despite all that had happened between them, she didn't mind; Chakotay was an above average mate, but he lacked her love, the feeling that the crew described as a immeasurable and vast warmth. Seven still had the highest respect for him, but there was this illogical, nagging feeling at the back of her mind…it had felt so right, but something had been missing…
She was startled out of her thoughts by the sound of a Petri dish hitting the floor. Chakotay picked up, a hand still on Kathryn's arm, guiding her outside. Kathryn looked disheveled, a child who was denied her toys. The commander threw and amused glance at Seven, and then gently ushered Kathryn out the door.
Seven placed the singular Petri dish back where it belonged, and then proceeded to the doorway, where she ran straight into the Doctor, who stumbled backwards, falling onto the ground. She extended a hand towards him, and then retracted it, slightly flustered.
"Excuse me, Doctor, I'm sorry. I hope you are okay…" Seven immediately realized she was babbling. Of course he was okay! He was only a force field full of protons. He held up a hand from his spot on the floor.
"No, no, it's okay Seven. I should have been watching where I was going." He stood up, brushing off the dust that covered the back of his projection. He smiled up at her, and she forced a smile back. He extended his arm in the direction of their hut.
"After you, Miss Seven of Nine." She gave him an amused look, and then started off into the darkness.