"Watch your step." (D&7, C/7)
Author's Note: This story refers to the episodes "Timeless", "Body and Soul", and "Endgame", as well as Star Trek: Picard.
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2375, U. S. S. Voyager
"Watch your step." The Doctor keeps his arm around Seven to steady her as she wobbles into Sickbay. "Are you sure you had just one glass of champagne?"
"I may have refilled it once … or twice … or more."
"Ah."
"I was experimenting … experiencing … anxiety. About the slipstream drive. About Earth. The champagne made it go away." She waves her hand in a grand gesture. "It's all irrelevant now."
"Well, you won't find your hangover irrelevant tomorrow. Hold still." He sits her down on the biobed and presses a hypospray to her neck with the other. "Self-medicating anxiety with alcohol is one human habit I strongly advise you not to learn."
"I will remember, Doctor." She leans her dizzy head on his chest. "Thank you for always taking care of me."
He pats her awkwardly on the back before moving away.
/
2377, U. S. S. Voyager
Seven stops after the first glass this time. She can't remember what the champagne tasted like two years ago, but the white wine she replicated with her foie gras is sharp and refreshing. She monitors herself for any signs of dizziness, impulsive behavior or slurred speech. Nothing so far.
"Once again, I do apologize for my behavior on the Lokirrim ship," says the Doctor, sitting opposite her at his desk. "It was selfish and careless, and it will never happen again."
"Apology accepted." She glances down ruefully at her empty plate, still tasting the rich meat and crisp salad on her tongue. "Although … you may be correct in that I take my sensory capacities for granted."
"It's good to see you enjoying a meal like this." He smiles. "You need to learn your limits, that's all. Just like everybody else does."
"Including you?"
"Especially me." He winces. "If I never see another cheesecake, it will be too soon."
She surprises them both with a dry chuckle. Perhaps the wine is affecting her after all.
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2378, U. S. S. Voyager
"To new discoveries." Chakotay's dimples show as he toasts her with his glass of red wine across the table at Sandrine's.
"Like the Ventu?"
"Among others." A certain light in his dark eyes makes it clear that he considers her a new discovery, and a fascinating one at that. "Are you still using the blanket that girl made you?"
"Yes." She blushes and looks down into her glass, wondering if the sudden warmth she feels is from the alcohol or from that look of his. "I find it … comfortable."
"Would you like to try another hike? I've got a holodeck program that's pretty similar. You won't have to carry me this time."
"I would not object." Her blush deepens. She can flirt so easily this way. The nerves she felt at the beginning of the evening are all but gone.
Something the Doctor once said about anxiety lingers at the back of her mind, but she pushes it away, smiles at Chakotay, and pours herself another glass.
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2383, Freecloud
"No, thank you." Seven holds up a firm hand to stop the bartender from refilling her empty glass. "I've had enough."
"What?" the hulking Beta Annari next to her rumbles, reptilian eyes narrowed with distrust. "Too good to keep drinking with the likes of us?"
"Hard liquor interferes with my implants."
"You need to build a tolerance, that's all. You're on the frontier now, darling. If you can't keep up with the locals in a place like this, you'll never earn their respect." Bjayzl swirls her tranya so that the ice cubes glitter. "Starfleet isn't here to disapprove."
The words are as bitter as the tranya, but Bjayzl is right. Starfleet rejected her, and so did Chakotay. Why should she still care about what they think?
"I'll have what she's having," Seven tells the bartender.
Bjayzl smiles.
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2386, Unnamed Ranger Vessel
"Do it. Please."
"I'm so sorry, my child."
Seven wakes up with streaming eyes and a dry throat, blinking away visions of red spots on white sheets, desperate gray eyes and the click of a phaser. She knows what the stardate is even before she asks the computer, and she knows she's going to get drunk.
"Bourbon, straight up," she tells the replicator. "How's that for building a tolerance?"
This time she can knock back the entire glass without coughing. It burns like a comet going down her throat. It feels like the kind of punishment she deserves.
It's when she stumbles on her way to the pilot's seat a new memory overtakes her, one that didn't appear in any of her nightmares. She remembers someone's arm around her waist and a baritone voice speaking to her with affectionate disapproval.
"Watch your step … This is one human habit I strongly advise you not to learn."
What wouldn't she give for one of the Doctor's lectures right now?
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2024, San Francisco
They may be on a mission, but it's still a terrible idea to take someone in addiction recovery to a gala with an open bar.
Raffi keeps staring up at the rows of gleaming bottles behind the counter. Craving hollows her cheeks and dulls her eyes, so that despite her makeup and evening gown, this brilliant, beautiful woman looks like a starving wolf. It's painful to watch, but Seven cannot turn away. If Raffi gets distracted from the mission, it's her crewmate's responsibility to stop her.
The worst part is that, even though her own drinking habits aren't the same, she can imagine how it feels.
"Sparkling water," Raffi orders. Seven breathes out in silent relief.
"Strawberry soda," she says to the bartender, taking a seat next to her partner.
The bartender slides the glasses over and they toast, sharing a wry smile. Neither one needs to say it, but they know they've won a small battle already.
Now all they need to do is save the multiverse.