AN: I know it's a two for one night, but I just wanted to get this one written! Please don't forget to read Chapter 5, since you may have missed it if you came straight here.

I hope you enjoy! Please don't forget to let me know what you think!

111

Raffi poured the glasses and watched as the bubbles settled to an acceptable level. She carefully topped the glasses off and put the bottle of champagne back in the bucket to chill. She picked up both glasses and met Seven as she emerged from the bedroom.

Seven smiled, accepting the glass even as she raised her eyebrow in question, her implant moving upward in keeping with the expression. Raffi tapped their glasses together.

"A toast," she said, "to the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and to celebrating our marriage. I haven't regretted a moment that I've been married to you."

Seven smiled. She leaned and kissed Raffi. Raffi accepted the kiss, closing her eyes to enjoy the taste of it, happy to feel it linger longer than she might have expected. She felt a yearning to be close to Seven—to stay close to her—even as the kiss broke. Seven's smile returned.

"Are you sure you're telling the truth about not regretting a single moment?" Seven asked.

Raffi smirked.

"There may have been moments of frustration," she said, "but never regret."

"A toast to—the only woman that I have ever loved," Seven offered, tapping their glasses again. "That I will ever love."

"I'll drink to that," Raffi said. She raised her glass and sipped the champagne. It was good champagne—only the best for tonight. Seven raised her glass and drank a long swallow. She'd expected the sparkling apple juice, and Raffi had forgotten to tell her that it was, in fact, champagne. Seven's eyes gave away that she hadn't been expecting it.

"I said I wasn't going to drink tonight," Seven said quickly. "I don't want to say or do anything foolish."

"Just one glass," Raffi said. "The rest of the night, it's nothing but sparkling juice—and nobody has to be anymore the wiser. One glass to celebrate our marriage—our perfect union. One glass to celebrate our future together. One glass to celebrate…everything. Your last drink, too, for at least a while."

A redness came to Seven's cheeks, but her smile didn't fade. She wrapped her hand around Raffi's arm and squeezed. Raffi didn't give any indication that she'd noticed it was the hand with the implants—the one that Seven sometimes shied away from using to touch anyone—even Raffi.

"The last drink for—months," Seven said, not that the lack of alcohol would be any great loss to her.

"At least nine of them," Raffi said. "We bring our baby home tomorrow."

"Not really," Seven said.

"In some form," Raffi pressed. She leaned and caught Seven's lips again in a kiss. She sucked on her bottom lip and nipped it with her teeth, biting back the desire to truly bite her—like some primal instinct that gives us a desire to consume that which we truly love. When the kiss broke, Raffi rested her forehead against Seven's. "This time tomorrow night…you'll be carrying our baby."

The loud and obnoxious alarm of Seven's personal device went off and both of them were jolted by the surprise. They jerked apart with the shock of it.

"What the hell is that?" Raffi asked.

"My alarm!" Seven barked. She rushed into the bedroom and found the device. It was screeching in harmony with Raffi's device. The same shrill sound came from both of them. Raffi found hers and shut it off at almost the same moment as Seven managed to stop her alarm from howling out its warning.

"Shit!" Raffi stammered, her heart pounding in her chest. "What the hell was that?"

Seven was looking at her device, whereas Raffi simply held hers in her hand. She swallowed down a long drink of the champagne to calm her nerves.

"It's my alarm," Seven said. "For the chip. An—update, it appears. There's a message that I should enter my code and accept my hypospray for immediate administration."

Raffi's pulse was slowing down, now, and she smiled as a different kind of excitement took its place.

"There's something off with your levels," Raffi said. "It's working."

Seven looked slightly excited, as well, with the first hint that the chip was doing what it was supposed to do.

"I took what was prescribed this morning," Seven said. "Do you think I should—follow the prompt?"

"That's what the chip is there for," Raffi said. "It's what this program is there for. It's why we both have it on our devices—though I'm going to see about adjusting that volume. B'Elanna could have picked a less terrifying sound."

"She wanted to be sure we didn't miss any doses," Seven said. "Especially with…"

She broke off. Raffi believed her heart fluttered a little in her chest.

"Especially with the levels they want you to maintain for the next few days," Raffi said. "For the viability of the pregnancy. You can say it, Seven…"

Seven's eyes widened and she shook her head, but she didn't look morose about it—only a touch overwhelmed.

"No," she said. "I can't. Not yet. But I will be able to say it soon."

She put her champagne glass down, forgotten, and walked out of the bedroom with her device. Raffi snagged their in-home medical tricorder from the dresser and grabbed Seven's champagne glass. She followed her to the kitchen and watched as Seven followed the instructions to produce the prescribed hypospray. Without even a moment of hesitation, she pressed it to her neck and released the hormones into her bloodstream. She recycled the empty hypospray and turned, looking a little surprised to find Raffi right behind her.

"Let me scan you," Raffi said. The readings from the chip were, to Raffi, at least mildly interesting. Besides that, using the chip often was making it commonplace and more comfortable for Seven. The pants that Seven was wearing were thin enough not to impede the tricorder's ability to read the chip embedded in her thigh, even though it wasn't a strong Starfleet issue grade tricorder. Raffi passed it over the chip and read the results as soon as they registered.

"Well?" Seven asked.

"It reads abnormal," Raffi said. "Low—and they want your levels high for the next few weeks. It's better for the baby and the pregnancy."

"The low levels and the high requirements are likely the reason for the alarm," Seven said.

"It shouldn't take more than half an hour for it to get all the way through your bloodstream. We'll scan it again, then, to make sure that your levels are rising like they should be."

"I don't want to scan myself during our party," Seven said.

"Then—we'll wait until later," Raffi said. "I'm turning the alarm off on my device, but I want you to leave yours on. Lower the volume if you want, but if they drop too low again, we need to know."

Seven stepped close to her. She wrapped her arms around her. She pressed their lips together in a chaste kiss that was as sweet as Raffi could ever imagine any kiss being. She stepped forward just enough to bring them together—pelvis to pelvis—and she pressed her forehead against Raffi's.

"We need to know," she said, swaying the both of them slightly. "Because we're not letting anything affect our chances of bringing home our baby tomorrow."

Raffi smiled at her as she pulled away slightly.

"You almost said it," she teased.

Seven smiled at her, and Raffi kissed her again.

"Tomorrow, I will," she assured her.

"Raffi? Seven?"

Elnor came into the kitchen, having beamed into the living room. They'd left their personal transport pad open so that those who were coming to celebrate with them could beam in as they felt ready to start arriving. Of course, Elnor was a bit early.

"Am I interrupting something?" He asked, walking directly into the kitchen with the familiar air of someone, Raffi thought, who might immediately begin eating their finger foods or even making demands of their replicator.

"No, Baby," Raffi said, biting back her amusement. "You're right on time. You always are."

She winked an eye at Seven, and Seven laughed quietly, stifling her amusement as she turned and busied herself with making a glass of sparkling juice to replace the champagne she clearly didn't intend to finish. Elnor, for his part, was oblivious, and made himself at home by fixing a drink from those set out for guests—among which they'd been sure to place some of his favorites.

"At least we are…accustomed…to little interruptions," Seven said, her voice low, especially since Elnor didn't know, yet, what they had planned for the following day. "It will serve us well, I imagine, in the future."

111

Raffi made the rounds meeting everyone that Seven had known on Voyager. Many of them, Raffi felt like she knew personally, simply from hearing Seven recite stories about her life with them. They were warm and embracing to Raffi, welcoming her like she was an old friend. The script of the introductions was all the same—they were so happy to meet her, they were so happy for Seven, they were so happy for the both of them.

Once the initial introductions and thanks for bottles of beverages that Seven wouldn't be drinking—at least for the next nine months, not that too many people at the party knew that, and those that did know were being very discreet and keeping the secret—were out of the way, Raffi felt like they were able to relax a bit more into the party.

She was, after a relatively short amount of time, talking to Admiral Janeway in the same way she talked to Jean-Luc Picard as he made his rounds greeting everyone—and she'd even accepted the insistence that she call her Kathryn.

By the time Raffi was on a first name basis with everyone, and Seven had spent longer holding Owen Torres-Paris and fussing over him than she normally would some random person's infant, Raffi started to become aware of the fact that something was, at the very least, a little bit off.

After passing Owen Torres-Paris back to his mother, Seven had something of a sparkle in her eye that Raffi was fairly certain hadn't been there before. Raffi searched her face for a moment, trying to place what it was, but she couldn't be sure. Seven moved beside her, close enough that their bodies were touching all the way down the length of them, and wrapped her arm around Raffi. Raffi smiled to herself at the familiarity of the touch. She welcomed the closeness. She sipped her champagne, while Seven simply held her glass of juice in the hand not wrapped around Raffi.

And then, Raffi nearly choked as she felt the gentle touch of Seven's fingers rubbing the soft skin just beneath and below the waistband of Raffi's pants. Immediately, a feeling like electricity jolted through Raffi. Seven was teasing her. She looked at Seven, trying to see if she could get some indication that she was misreading this, and Seven smiled at her, broadly, with just a hint of something else there—silent confirmation in the form of a slightly raised eyebrow. Raffi coughed around her champagne and Seven laughed quietly in her throat. She didn't cease teasing Raffi, and the simple touch was almost enough to drive Raffi insane—especially given the circumstances and given the fact that Seven, though sexually intimate with Raffi, was never the pursuer. Seven was more than happy to make love to Raffi when she asked or suggested it, but it was never Seven who brought it up—she didn't have the same interest, perhaps, as Raffi, even though she enjoyed their sexual relationship when prompted to participate.

Of course, now she had a great deal more hormones to work with than she'd ever had before.

Raffi tightened her grip on her glass, almost afraid she might squeeze too hard and shatter the delicate glass, when Seven slipped her hand up the inside of the back of her shirt, letting her fingertips lightly trail over Raffi's skin. Raffi bit her lip against the sensation that instantly throbbed between her legs, and Seven laughed, again, like something was hilarious—like she was amused by whatever the hell it was that Tuvok was saying about trans warp conduits. When Raffi made eye contact with her again, she hummed and raised her eyebrows once more.

Raffi was certain, beyond anything, that she understood the message, but she felt absolutely helpless.

For the first time in the whole of their relationship, her beautiful, sexy, incredible wife's hormones were in the right place to make her want something—and to want it NOW—despite the fact that they were in the middle of a drinks-and-hors d'oeuvres type party to celebrate announcing their marriage to everyone that they both knew as friends and family.

Seven wanted Raffi right now. Raffi wanted Seven right now. Their house was full of people, and Raffi didn't know how to politely get them all to leave—though she would have given each of them anything they might want just to beam out at that exact moment.

She wasn't able to get them out, though, and she spent at least another hour practically sweating as she moved around the room, always with Seven close to her, enduring the teasing touches and the subtle facial expressions—like the moment when Seven bit her bottom lip in just a certain way and Raffi had dropped a whole bottle of Chateau Picard wine—a decent vintage, even—and had to pretend that it was just a random act of clumsiness.

It was actually B'Elanna—knowing what time their appointment was because she and the Doctor would be in attendance for the procedure—that had been the first to suggest leaving and wrapping up the party so that the blissfully married couple could get some rest, and in what Raffi realized was B'Elanna's normal practice, she didn't let up until she'd done what she set out to do and roused all the guests to say their goodbyes, offer hugs, handshakes, and well-wishes, and to beam out. Harry and Tom had beamed out together, meaning to do some kind of poker night event, and B'Elanna had been the last to linger with a sleeping baby Owen. She hadn't stayed long, though. She'd simply hugged the both of them and said she'd see them in the morning with a knowing wink.

And Raffi, relieved to have her house back, decided that Klingons might be some of her most favorite aliens in any of the four quadrants.

B'Elanna had barely transported out before Seven lunged for Raffi, and Raffi immediately, and gratefully, accepted the hungry kiss that she'd been waiting for during what felt like hours. Seven grabbed at her desperately, and Raffi relished the rough embrace—the desire flowing through her like an electric current.

In the excitement of the moment, they forgot to turn off their personal transport pad, and they both turned at the sound of someone beaming in right next to them.

They both locked eyes with Harry Kim, looking somewhat chagrined at finding them in an embrace that left no room for question. He held up a finger.

"I might have left something," he said. "But—no worries. I can—get it tomorrow. Or—you can keep it. Goodnight!"

He beamed out before either of them could say anything and, though Raffi was sure they may laugh about it later, at the moment, all concern went out the window as Seven rasped out the words that Raffi felt like she'd waited her whole life to hear that particular, sweet voice say.

"Let's go to the bedroom."