Prompt 38: "I like your laugh." (Seven & Naomi)

Episode: "Infinite Regress"

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"Why don't you ever laugh, Seven?"

Naomi Wildman did not sound judgmental, only curious, but Seven felt a defensive response anyway. She knew that the crew found her manners strange and off-putting; even the Doctor had told her she ought to smile more after the one time he'd caught her practicing her smile in the cargo bay. They meant well, but sometimes she grew exceedingly tired of questions like this one.

"Borg do not laugh," she said in answer to Naomi. "Your move."

They were playing kadis kot in the Wildmans' quarters, sitting side by side at the table with the board set up in front of them. Seven was both surprised and honored that Ensign Wildman trusted her this far (and more than a little apprehensive), but until now, spending time with Naomi had been surprisingly simple. The child was much more direct than some of the adult crewmembers, which made her easier to understand.

Of course, directness had its drawbacks as well.

"But you're not really Borg anymore," said the child, turning her orange game piece over in her hands as she studied the board. "Don't you ever find things funny?"

"Sometimes."

"Like what?"

"Mr. Neelix's singing voice, for example." Their morale officer had been heard warbling an outrageously off-key "Auld Lang Syne" in preparation for the New Year's Party. Naomi grinned at the memory. "However, I find it … difficult … to adapt to the physical sensations of being human," Seven confessed. "Eating and drinking, for example. Laughter is another such sensation."

"You mean the way your belly jumps?" Naomi patted the front of her pink overalls in a gesture she must have picked up from Neelix. "You're right, that is weird. I never thought about it. Why does it do that?"

"Ask the Doctor."

"Okay."

Naomi, remembering the game piece she still held, finally made her move, confiscating two of Seven's green pieces at once. She was a good player for her age, and the simplicity of the game worked in her favor. If it were kal-toh, Seven could have outmaneuvered her easily, but on a two-dimensional board, there were only so many moves you could make.

Still, Seven was Borg. She retaliated by taking four orange pieces and occupying the top row of the board. A mechanical chime pronounced her the winner. "Kadis kot."

Expecting a disappointed pout from Naomi, she found that instead the little girl was looking at her thoughtfully.

"I liked your laugh," she said softly. "That first time we played together."

Seven's apprehension began to rise, crawling along her spine like nanoprobes. This was what she had been afraid of when Naomi had asked for her as a babysitter. If it were up to her, the Borg and this child would never have to exist in the same galaxy, let alone the same conversation.

How could she explain that the girl Naomi had played with that day was a victim of the Collective, possibly even assimilated by Seven herself?

"I do not remember," she said stiffly.

"I know. Mom said you were sick that day and that's why you acted so different." Naomi frowned. "I didn't even notice anything wrong. You seemed so happy. I know your name's not Meryl and you don't have any brothers, but I thought you were just playing pretend. Like on the holodeck."

The little girl felt guilty, Seven realized with dismay. As if there was any way could have recognized the influence of a Borg Vinculum.

"You are four years old. You could not be expected to know."

"Is it gonna happen to you again?" Naomi put a hand on Seven's arm. Her big blue eyes were as worried as Captain Janeway's. "Are you gonna forget what your name is and start acting like someone else? … Could it happen to me?"

Seven respected Samantha Wildman, but sometimes, she wanted to shake her by the collar for her recklessness in having a child aboard a starship, even a larger and better prepared starship than the Raven. Naomi should never have to fear the loss of herself, Borg-induced or otherwise. Still, all they could do was adapt.

"If so, our shipmates will do everything they can to assist us."

Anyone else might have told Naomi it would never happen, but lying was one habit of individuality Seven did not intend to learn.

Naomi smiled bravely. "I guess you're right. The Doctor saved you before, didn't he?"

"Yes. So did Commander Tuvok."

"Tuvok doesn't laugh either. Like you." Naomi's mind seemed to change subjects rapidly. Either that, or she was distracting herself on purpose from her fears. "I can still tell when he wants to, though. He does that thing with his eyebrow, like the bunnies' ears in the Forest of Forever."

"I have never heard the Commander described that way." Seven could picture very clearly how Tuvok would react if he heard anyone compare him to an Earth rodent.

"Hey, you're doing it too!" Naomi's eyes lit up. She pointed at Seven's face excitedly. "Your eyebrow just went up. The one with hair. You're laughing inside right now, aren't you? You think I'm funny!"

She bounced in her chair, looking more pleased with herself than if she had won a dozen kadis kot games. Seven's hand went up to her touch her own eyebrow for confirmation, and sure enough –

"Correct."

Naomi laughed.

She made it look so natural: a few high notes, a flash of her baby teeth, a crinkle of her eyes, a shake of her head. Seven wondered if she had ever laughed like that as a child before being assimilated. She must have. Someday, perhaps, she would again.

"I like your laugh as well, Naomi Wildman."

And I will do everything I can, she added silently, to make sure you never lose it.