AN: Here we are, another piece to the lives of our lovebirds.

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

111

Raffi woke gently, slowly slipping into consciousness. She stretched equally gently, not wanting to disturb her bed partner. Her muscles felt better than they had in days. Her head felt clearer. Her whole body felt, in some ways, renewed. Of course, she'd taken better care of herself over the past few days than she had in years, probably. It hadn't hurt that she'd been thoroughly spoiled by Seven, and the ship's doctors had kept careful watch over the both of them where their own care for each other had fallen off.

With Janeway and Picard acting as their top command team, and with both doctors ordering rest and relaxation with no exceptions, Raffi and Seven had both done something that neither of them had done in a long time—they'd actually taken time off to simply rest.

For several days, all they had done was sleep, eat, shower, and lounge around their quarters—usually in bed. For those several days, nobody had to tell Seven to regenerate, and nobody had to push Raffi to sleep when she was tired. Elnor had come to check on them often, but even he had seemed to think that they needed this time, uninterrupted, to simply exist together.

Raffi had to admit that her spirit, this morning, felt every bit as renewed as her body did. She inched closer to Seven and gently pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. She inhaled, smelling Seven's scent. A wave of comfort washed over her and she felt fully relaxed. She closed her eyes again and pressed her lips to Seven's skin once more, resisting the urge to taste her more thoroughly and, thus, to wake her.

She had tasted her to her heart's content the night before, when she and Seven had spent what felt like several long, lazy hours worshipping each other's bodies.

Raffi let her fingertips trail gently over Seven's skin. They could read Seven's body, at this point, the same as she imagined a blind person might read braille. She knew everything. Everything was familiar, comfortable—Seven's body was home, Borg and human parts alike. Raffi knew the locations of moles, dips, and dimples. She knew each implant intimately, and she was familiar with the way that the skin pulled around some of them differently than it did others. She knew Seven's most sensitive spots—even the ones that wouldn't have been most obvious to anyone with any knowledge of anatomy. She knew how Seven liked to be touched, and she knew the sweet sounds she made when she was touched in a way she found especially pleasing.

Raffi let her fingertips slide across Seven's stomach. She found her belly button—a very human trait—and the small implant not far from there that the Borg had given her as a port to the soft internal organs that she possessed—most of them with internal Borg enhancements. Raffi's fingers stopped, as though they had a mind of their own, when she tripped over unfamiliar territory. She traced her fingers back over the spot and honed in on the hills and valleys of the landscape beneath them.

Raffi stopped and sat up, trying not to disturb Seven too much.

"Hello," she said quietly, easing the blanket off of Seven so that her eyes could see what her fingertips had tried to convey. She smiled to herself and flattened her palm against Seven's skin. The quick rise of the goosebumps beneath her fingers alerted Raffi to Seven's waking before anything else. She looked at Seven's face and smiled at the sleepy smile that immediately came across Seven's features.

Raffi dipped her face and kissed the side of Seven's face, her lips touching skin and cool metal at the same time.

"Good morning, beautiful," she offered as Seven rolled her body in Raffi's direction. Once on her back, Seven stretched like a cat, elongating her entire body before relaxing. She smiled at Raffi.

"Good morning," she said, reaching a finger up and touching Raffi's lips. Raffi puckered and kissed the fingertip that had been left to linger there, a silent request for affection that Raffi was only too happy to provide. Seven smiled in response to the kiss and dropped her hand.

Raffi put her hand back on Seven's stomach, her palm finding the spot she sought as thought she'd been finding it, again and again, for some time. Raffi held Seven's eyes with her own, watching her waking. She felt the familiar rush in her chest of what she wasn't afraid to call love—absolute, undeniable, unconditional, eternal love.

"It would seem," Raffi said, keeping her voice as soft, pleasant, and unalarming as she possibly could, "that all this rest has been doing wonders for everyone in the Musiker Collective."

"You're feeling better?" Seven asked with a soft smile.

"With as good as you've taken care of me, I've never felt better," Raffi said. "I may just have to get mauled by a Nerobian on a regular basis."

Seven recoiled slightly. Raffi was immediately apologetic.

"Don't say things like that," Seven scolded.

"I'm sorry," Raffi said sincerely. "It was a joke. In poor taste, I realized, as soon as I'd said it. Forgive me?"

Seven's smile renewed.

"I love you," she said. The words came in place of a declaration of actual forgiveness, but Raffi felt open to interpret them herself.

"And I love you," Raffi said, putting all the feeling behind the words that she felt—Seven closed her eyes, a soft smile on her lips, and seemed to absorb everything the words were meant to convey. "Seven…" Raffi said after a second.

"Hmmm?" Seven hummed.

"It would seem that our little bit of a baby, Seven, has enjoyed all this rest," Raffi said. "Don't be alarmed, but…I think she hit a little growth spurt last night."

Seven started. After the quiet, easy start to the morning, Raffi felt Seven's surge of shock and surprise practically crackle in the air around them. She felt it transfer through her the same as if she'd been shocked. Seven sat up, and examined herself.

"Raffi!" Seven said. There was no question. There was no additional declaration. There was, however, a touch of panic. Raffi thought she could understand that. Even though, when she'd been pregnant, she'd felt like she'd "popped," as everyone had called it, and had practically gone from not looking pregnant to having a bit of a belly overnight, it was still a bit more extreme in Seven's case.

Raff sat up and put one hand on Seven's shoulder and the other on her face to ground her. She turned Seven's face to her. She smiled at her, hoping that the smile would suggest, psychologically, that Seven do the same—or at least try to feel the same.

"Seven—she's growing," Raffi said. "That's so good, too. Isn't it? That's what we want. We want her to grow big and strong, and she needs room to grow. We've been resting, and eating, and absorbing so much of each other's love, and the nanonannies haven't had anything to worry about for days except helping her grow. And look what a good job they've done!"

Seven held Raffi's eyes. There was a touch of fear there. Raffi sensed it, even though Seven was clearly trying to keep her face somewhat expressionless. Raffi gave her a few beats of silence to see if she wanted to respond, but it appeared that, for the time being, Seven was content only to absorb the comfort that Raffi had to offer her—and Raffi needed to find more, it seemed, to quench her current thirst for it.

"You are beautiful," Raffi said. "You are…so beautiful. You came back from that Nerobian attack, Seven. You've healed entirely. You nearly died, but you didn't. You kept her safe. And, probably, with so much energy and…food…and relaxation…and love? Your body just decided to use all those abundant resources to make her strong as it could to make sure that nothing happened."

The shock was clearly starting to fade a little, thought it still had a long way to go before it faded entirely. Seven scrambled off the bed, and Raffi let her go without any attempt to stop her. If Seven needed to pace it out a bit, she could entirely understand that. On her feet, Seven immediately examined herself again. Raffi bit her lip, trying to hold back her smile a little.

"Raffi…" Seven said, her voice catching so that she stammered out Raffi's name.

"Look at her," Raffi said, crawling forward to the edge of the bed and perching there on her knees. "Look at you, but…Seven…look at her!"

"This is most unusual," Seven said.

Raffi unfolded her legs and got to her feet. She went straight to the replicator to see if there was anything she was required to take, keying in her own code for any prescribed hyposprays, and to get anything that Seven needed.

"It would be unusual if it were me," Raffi said. She didn't have anything, but Seven had her usual morning dosage of hormones, anti-nausea medication, and prenatal vitamins in a single canister. Raffi brought it over and, without a word, Seven tipped her head to the side so that Raffi could find the artery to inject it. "We know that things work a little differently for you. We know she's been growing. Do you feel OK, Seven?"

Seven ran her hand across her abdomen.

"There is some discomfort," Seven said. "Here."

"What kind of discomfort?" Raffi asked.

"Cramping," Seven said. She shook her head. "It is not intolerable, nor is it particularly problematic. I will adapt."

"It's probably stretching," Raffi said, recycling the hypospray and returning to stand in front of Seven. "Even though you're part Borg, the part that's carrying her is mostly human, right? Everything has to stretch to accommodate her. I remember there were times those growing pains were really uncomfortable, and it wasn't even the same for me."

Raffi saw Seven relaxing. She noticed her shoulders sink a little as she settled into the answer. She saw the fast rise and fall of her chest slow. The line between her brows that Raffi knew tended to come with confusion, worry, or anger, began to smooth. Her body's response was beginning to match the exterior she was trying to create.

Raffi smiled at her and reached out her hand.

"Can I?" She asked.

"She is your daughter," Seven said.

"But she's in your body," Raffi offered, "and I always want to respect that, Seven. I know that—your autonomy over your body hasn't always been respected. I never want to be the one to disrespect that."

Seven took Raffi's hand and directed it to the small swell. There was nothing to feel there—nothing in particular—and yet Raffi's heart drummed hard in her chest to simply imagine that their baby was right there, nestled safe and warm in Seven's womb, and she was growing.

"Can you feel her, Seven?" Raffi asked.

"At the moment, I detect no movement," Seven said. Raffi didn't have to bite back her smile—but she also didn't tell Seven that it was more about the fact that, in her current state, she'd slipped into the diction that Raffi considered particularly "Sevenesque"—a diction that came out more readily when she was relaxed or stressed, leaving it always up to Raffi's interpretation to decide which was the case. For the moment, Raffi assumed it was actually the transition—or the rapid transitions of the morning—between the two. "However, I have detected nothing too far beyond the crickets."

"Have the crickets been getting stronger?" Raffi asked. She flexed her fingers, feeling Seven's abdomen beneath them, wondering when she might feel further evidence of their baby girl.

"Their movements have grown in strength and frequency since the encounter with the Nerobians," Seven said.

"The nanonannies are probably helping her grow in response to the attack," Raffi said.

"You are speculating without evidence," Seven said.

"I am," Raffi agreed. "But there's nobody to tell me I'm wrong any more than there's anyone to tell me I'm right. You're the first pregnancy, that we know, of this kind. Baby Musiker is a trailblazer. And unless she tells me I'm wrong, I'm going to go with my gut." Raffi winked at Seven. She affectionately rubbed Seven's tummy, and Seven closed her eyes. She was clearly trying to relax, but there was still some evidence of tension. "Your tummy muscles are very tight right now," Raffi said. "Are you in pain?"

"It's not unbearable," Seven said.

"I didn't ask that," Raffi said. "I asked if you're in pain, Seven."

"I do not wish to be sedated," Seven said, "or otherwise anesthetized. I wish to experience her growth, Raffi—her journey into existence."

Raffi straightened up. She brought Seven her pajamas, cast off the night before for their long and lazy lovemaking session. Seven thanked her, and she quickly dressed in them. Raffi followed suit, not pointing out how adorable she thought Seven looked. The pajamas, replicated the day before, were made for the body she'd had before their daughter's little growth spurt. The tightness of them made Seven's new bump even more evident.

"I will never ask you to be deprived of any experience you want to have," Raffi said. "And I will certainly never ask you to miss out on anything related to our children—the ones we have or the ones we may have in the future. However—I am going to suggest that we at least visit sickbay. Let's just—make sure that everything is OK, which I'm sure it is, and then let's make sure that you're handling all the changes like you should be, which I'm sure you are. If so—we'll come back here and do whatever you want for the rest of the day. We'll experience whatever the hell you want, Seven. We'll celebrate her and her growth."

"We have not finished the nursery," Seven said. "It remains incomplete."

"OK—see? I know that feeling. You're feeling some changes, and you're wanting to nest a little. We can work on the nursery. We still need to paint, build that changing table, and we need to build the bassinet for the bedroom."

"We have no way of calculating how quickly she will grow, or when she will arrive," Seven said.

"We have a rough idea," Raffi said. "We'll have a better idea once we visit sickbay and can see how much she's already grown, especially with this little growth spurt."

"I will feel better—more secure, Raffi—when we're ready for her arrival," Seven said.

"Understood, entirely," Raffi assured her. "You can relax a little, Seven, OK? She's not coming this morning. We have some time. Let's—go to sickbay, get her a little something to eat, because I know she's got to be hungry after that growth spurt, and then we'll spend the rest of the day working on the nursery, Seven. OK?"

Seven came toward Raffi, and Raffi knew exactly what she wanted. Raffi happily allowed Seven to take her into her arms. She accepted the hungry kiss that Seven offered her. She nipped Seven's lip in response, and then she smiled to herself at the feeling of Seven's belly between them—the small show of their daughter that would only grown in the coming days, weeks, and months—as their bodies were pressed flush together.

"I love you," Seven breathed out. Her eyes were still closed when she pulled away from Raffi. She opened them, and Raffi smiled at her.

"And I love you," Raffi assured her. "Both of you. Come on—let's take a quick trip to sickbay so we can get back here. We'll invite Elnor over later so he can see all the progress that's been made around here."

"You mean with the nursery?"

"And with his sister," Raffi said, laughing quietly. "He's going to be surprised to see how big she's gotten! Come on—let's get you some clothes that fit.

Seven seemed to realize, for the first time, that her pajamas were quite snug around her tummy. She looked down and, really seeing it, she laughed. She touched her stomach affectionately, and Raffi felt herself relax. The shock was wearing off, and it was being replaced by what she'd known would be there—pure love and affection for their little one and the changes that were necessary for the growth of their family.

"This looks ridiculous," Seven said, her happiness radiant on her face.

"This looks adorable," Raffi assured her. "And we're just getting started."