Just For Practice:

Chapter 5

Striving for perfect punctuality this time, Seven of Nine arrived at Holodeck Two approximately five minutes earlier than the agreed upon time. Tall, curvaceous and an absolute knockout of a woman despite the eighteen years she spent as a Borg drone, she walked up to the computer panel just outside of the Holodeck doors and queued up the program for a modified version of Sandrine's, something that the Captain had requested that they use instead of the original program.

More than appropriately dressed for the occasion, Seven scrutinized her reflection in the panel, tentatively running a hand through her whitish blonde hair that spilled down her shoulders in voluminous waves. It was inefficient, having her hair down around her face where it was in the way. In clear contrast with her Borg instincts however, she partially enjoyed letting it down on these rare occasions. Flowing free from their bonds, it brought forth and added to the wonderfully alluring feminine aura she emanated, an aura that had slowly but surely began to develop subsequent to her separation from the Borg Collective.

A faint crease appeared between her brow as her eyes fell to her body, second guessing her decision to dress up so nicely for a mock date.

As Seven was getting ready in Cargo Bay 2, she gave careful consideration to her outfit, something she did not do for her first date. Had the Doctor not intervened in time, she would have simply shown up to that date with Chapman wearing her biosuit without any qualms. Determined to wear different clothes of her choosing for this practice date, Seven riffled through Voyager's database and chose a flattering but relaxed black dress that wrapped around her body, sweeping down to her legs at mid length and tied off at her waistline by a sash that blended in with the rest of the dress.

Compared to her skin tight biosuits, the dress left a little more to the imagination with its breathable, yet silk-like material that fluttered and slid against the blonde's skin. There was also something undeniably sultry that radiated from the dress, though it still possessed a modicum of modesty about it as if the two were somehow working in perfect harmony.

Seven was sufficiently pleased with her decision at the time, but standing there now near the doors to the holodeck, enrobed in something so contrary to her usual appearance, it raised some doubts within the ex-Borg. What if the Captain didn't bother with dressing up? That little detail never really came up when they initially discussed it and Seven did not think to ask, her mind much too preoccupied with what had transpired.

It completely threw her for a loop when Janeway suddenly offered to be her practice date. After recovering from her initial shock, Seven mulled it over and accepted the offer, deciding that going on a practice date with Janeway would be much more acceptable than with anyone else on the ship. Though she agreed to it, Seven was nevertheless reeling from the fact that Janeway was willing to do such a thing for her sake.

Still somewhat agonizing over her appearance, Seven nearly missed the gentle sound of footsteps on the low carpet of the corridor, heralding the Captain's approach behind her. She turned toward the sound, keeping her hands behind her back as she squarely faced Janeway, stopping the older woman in her tracks.

"Oh, wow…" Janeway breathed, positively taken aback by the sight of Seven standing before her.

To see her ex-Borg subordinate with her hair down was one thing, but to witness the stunning woman in anything other than a biosuit, let alone such a gorgeous dress was truly indescribable. There was only one other time Janeway had seen Seven in a dress, but it had been under different, more urgent circumstances when a group of Hirogen had taken over Voyager and forced its crew to endure brutal Holodeck simulations without any memory of who they really were. But in this moment something stirred within her, something she had only ever been ambiguously aware of for the past year but did her best to bury. Only now, as Janeway stood there entirely frozen in place did she realize with dread that whatever she was feeling was not going to simply go away this time, growing more and more defined with each passing millisecond.

Without meaning to, her eyes lingered over Seven for an exceedingly long time. Janeway wondered if that was what Seven had worn to her date with Lieutenant Chapman and was subsequently surprised with herself at the bitter connotation that shadowed her musings.

"You look very beautiful," said Janeway, her voice bordering on more of a whisper than her normal tone.

Dazed and delighted by the compliment, Seven could feel her heart quivering in her chest and the corners of her mouth curving upward, seemingly of their own volition.

"Thank you Captain. You look beautiful as well," she returned sincerely.

Grateful to be shaken out of her trance by Seven's response, Janeway looked down at her own outfit and back at Seven, allowing a wry grin to form on her lips.

"Thank you, but I'm afraid I didn't put as much effort into my clothes," Janeway admitted with embarrassment, "I was running a bit late and just threw this on."

She tugged emphatically at the bottom of her blouse, a dark blue medium sleeved v-neck that partially exposed her collarbone and chest. The blouse ran down the length of Janeway's petite torso and met with her black uniform slacks and her sleek Star Fleet issue boots.

No matter how much Janeway depreciated her hasty ensemble, it more than met with Seven's approval. Janeway looked nearly the same as she normally did, the only discrepancy being the top half of her uniform was replaced by her modest but elegant blouse. Even still, Captain Janeway looked extraordinarily lovely and the stark difference in their appearances did not seem to discourage Seven nor detract from the experience as she originally feared. The more she thought about it however, it was perhaps best that Janeway didn't show up wearing anything more than what she had on currently. Seven's breath caught in her throat as an image of Janeway in an accentuating dress came unbidden to her mind.

"It is quite sufficient Captain," assured Seven, glancing down at her dress, "I was uncertain if we were to follow a dress code traditional for dates."

"I suppose we didn't exactly discuss it," Janeway said dryly, keeping her gaze from roaming downward past Seven's dimpled chin. "Nevertheless it looks like things worked out. Is the program ready?"

"Yes, Captain," Seven replied dutifully.

"Shall we go in then?" Janeway asked with a small smile.

Less than prepared to plunge herself into this great unknown, Seven drew in a breath and released it, nodding mutely.

Motioning for Seven to join her, Janeway strode towards the entrance. Side by side, the two women approached the doors and they automatically parted for them, revealing the setting of Sandrine's. Only it wasn't quite Sandrine's.

To Seven's astonishment, the pleasant sound of a piano playing softly in the background immediately reached her ears as they entered and descended the short flight of stairs to the dining area. Sandrine's modified appearance resembled that of a small but fancy, rustic style restaurant. While the incandescent lighting was very much the same, the bar was reduced in size by almost half with the remaining space taken up by a few small tables.

A chestnut colored baby grand piano occupied the middle of the establishment to which all the beautifully polished wooden tables surrounded, leaving enough space on the floor for those who wished to dance. Through the opening of the propped up lid, Seven noticed a rather unassuming man dressed in a black suit sitting behind the piano and realized he was the source of the lovely music.

There was a shortage of patrons in this program, allowing for a more private and subdued environment that left Seven with a comfortable demeanor and a steady decrease in her apprehension.

Taking all of this in with genuine interest, Seven never would have guessed that she'd be back in the holodeck under these same circumstances. The fact that she was here now with Captain Janeway of all people wasn't even within the realm of possibility. Yet there they were, being escorted by the host to the back of the restaurant where they had a clear view of the piano player. The host brought them to a cozy table for two, adorned with a low, bronze candelabrum in the center. Verdant vines and white hydrangeas surrounded the candelabrum in a beautiful arrangement. The soft glow of the candles only carried so far, creating a warm and intimate atmosphere around the table itself, perfect for two people to settle into.

"Enjoy," the host said cordially with a slight bow and walked away, leaving the two women standing awkwardly at the table. Seven made a motion to sit down but Janeway quickly raised a hand to stop her.

"Wait Seven," she said suddenly, "let me play the traditional male lead."

Janeway insinuated herself between the puzzled blonde and the chair and pulled out the chair, gesturing for Seven to sit down. Understanding the intent and partially amused, Seven carefully sat down as the older woman scooted the chair forward in time to meet with Seven. Pleased with herself, Janeway walked around the table and sat in the chair opposite from Seven.

"'Traditional male lead', Captain?" Seven queried, her ocular implant scarcely catching the light as it raised up.

"Well yes," Janeway replied with a slight chuckle, "the purpose of the practice date is to be as authentic as possible so that you're better prepared for a real date. You have to treat me as if I'm your date so you can practice, therefore I need to play the part."

"I believe I understand," said Seven, watching a sharply dressed garçon nearing their table with a pitcher of water and two menus.

He placed the menus in front of the two women and customarily poured each of them a glass of water.

"Something to drink from the menu?" he asked.

"Seven? Would you like some wine or champagne?" Janeway asked, clarifying for the ex-Borg.

"I would prefer not to, alcohol negatively affects my cybernetic systems," she answered hesitantly, ashamed of her inability to imbibe alcohol.

"Ah." Janeway's lips twitched, the memory firmly asserting itself in her mind of a particular incident in Engineering when the young woman accidentally became inebriated from one glass of champagne. Only through an absurd amount of focus was Janeway able to keep her face as bland as possible when she remembered watching a drunk and adorable Seven being hastily escorted out by the Doctor. "No worries, I understand. Would you mind if I had a glass of wine? I like to indulge on occasions like this."

"No, Captain."

Hearing Seven address her again so formally in this setting made Janeway frown briefly, feeling marginally uncomfortable with it though she could not explain why. Overlooking it in the interim, she turned to the patiently waiting garçon and asked for a glass of their best red wine. With an ingratiating nod, the garçon left to fetch the wine.

"Now then, I don't know about you but I'm pretty famished," said Janeway, enthusiastically opening her menu.

"I am also experiencing hunger," Seven stated quite blandly in variation, staring questioningly at her menu. "This however was not present in my date with the Lieutenant. We had food immediately brought to us."

Smirking, Janeway looked up from her menu.

"I honestly wondered about that," she said, leaning forward and furrowing her brow, "normally when people go to a restaurant they order what they want from a menu instead of having, what was it? Whole steamed lobsters brought to the table?"

Opening up her own menu, Seven nodded in affirmation. "That is correct."

"Don't get me wrong, lobster is delicious but a whole lobster," she snickered at the very thought of it, "it's not exactly ideal for a first date, as you no doubt experienced. Frankly I'm surprised. Was it Chapman's doing or the program's?"

"I am not certain, I may have been too preoccupied at the time to ask."

Seven proceeded to scan her menu, dismayed that she was not entirely familiar with the entree names that were French in origin.

"Anyway," the Captain paused, lifting her glass of water to her lips and taking a sip, "the point is, don't order overly messy food on a date, especially food you can't eat with a fork or spoon."

"A wise precaution," Seven agreed, unhappily remembering her attempt to break the lobster's exoskeleton, splattering bits of lobster all over Chapman when she did so.

The garçon promptly returned, setting down a fancy stemmed glass of red Bordeaux wine on the table much to Janeway's delight.

"Are we ready to order?" he inquired.

Looking at Seven expectantly, Janeway's smile faltered when she noticed that the younger woman showed small signs of distress. Concerned, she reached across the table to touch the blonde's arm only to realize she was too far out of range. She wistfully settled for resting her hand on the surface of the table in Seven's direction instead.

"Seven?"

"I apologize," Seven answered, keeping her eyes trained on her menu, "I do not know what to order. I am not adequately acquainted with these dishes." Her cheeks flushed.

Mindfully subduing her amusement and permitting nothing more than a sympathetic smile on her face, Janeway drew back and dismissed their holographic waiter for the time being.

"That's alright," Janeway soothed, her voice like velvet, "to be perfectly honest I don't eat French cuisine that often myself," she shrugged, "I've had maybe four different French dishes in my lifetime, mostly due to a lack of trying on my part."

It didn't quite put her at ease, but Seven appreciated her captain's candor. She looked down at her menu again, her pale blue eyes scanning through each entree and their short descriptions. There was a moderate amount of ingredients that Seven was familiar with, having reluctantly tried them when she had to make the transition to the oral consumption of nutrition. But Seven was no closer to figuring out what she wanted to try and the Captain was waiting. At the risk of being disappointed, she strongly considered picking one at random so as not to be a burden on Janeway.

"We may be in a French restaurant," Janeway thoughtfully piped up, "but it's still the holodeck, you can order whatever you like. However," she drawled, grinning and arching a challenging eyebrow, "if you're interested in expanding your palate I can suggest a few dishes that I think you'd like."

Seven was nothing if not consistent with her mannerisms, impulsively tilting her head in a familiar and inquisitive fashion. A characteristic that Janeway always found to be quite charming. Seven regarded the auburn haired woman for a moment and, feeling grateful for the continued assistance, welcomed Janeway's recommendations.

Eager to talk about the dishes she thought Seven would enjoy, Janeway scooted closer to the table, bringing herself closer in proximity to her date-in-training. Head bent at an angle and leaning forward, she pointed out and explained each entree on the menu of note, her eyes occasionally wandering to Seven's full lips and, alarmingly, to the beautiful younger woman's chest. Exposed but within reasonable limits by the wonderful design of her dress, Janeway was granted by the heavens a generous view of a supple and smooth cleavage. They drew in her gaze like a moth to a flame and each time it elicited a quick clench of her fist, the sharp pain of nails digging into skin an effective but temporary solution to regroup her focus.

After spending some time discussing, deciding and breathing in Janeway's aromatic scent, Seven was efficiently able to make her choice. In that time, she discovered with some gratification that her tastes in food seemed to align with that of her captain.

Having no further reason to remain within touching distance of Seven, Janeway reluctantly settled back into her chair, restoring the space between them. An amalgamation of relief and longing followed, consuming her and leaving turmoil in its wake. She wore her familiar mask of command and composure, giving no indication that there was anything wrong on the surface of her elegant features.

Anxious to prevail over her inner conflict and keep the evening rolling, Janeway summoned their garçon to the table, letting Seven order first before ordering the same dish herself.

"It won't be long till we get our food," Janeway remarked as the man strode off to the holodeck's facsimile of the restaurant kitchen. "But while we wait on the food, this is the part in the date where we start to break the ice and get to know each other."

"We already know each other, Captain," Seven retorted, projecting a palpable air of confusion.

Again, Janeway frowned at the use of her formal title, feeling the same bout of discomfort and tapping into her innermost ability to ignore it.

"Yes, I'd like to think we do," she conceded jokingly, "but remember Seven it's a practice date. The point is to practice, including the art of getting acquainted with your date."

During the interlude before their food was replicated and brought to them, Janeway explained some of the basics, highlighting the standard details one talks about on a date such as career, family, and personal characteristics. Before she had a chance to urge Seven to try talking about herself, the garçon diligently arrived with their food. He carefully placed steaming bowls of ratatouille in front of the two women, the exquisite aroma of the stewed vegetables wafting up to lovingly greet their sense of smell. Janeway couldn't be sure of Seven's initial reaction to her food since the former Borg had an emotional range similar to that of a Vulcan. But Janeway's mouth was positively watering, looking forward to delicious food she didn't have to prepare or replicate herself. And without Neelix's culinary touch, to boot.

"Bon appétit," the garçon said with an accurately French pronunciation before walking away.

As with anything that was new and unfamiliar to the analytical blonde, she studied her food, absorbing the visual details and the scent emanating from it. A very agreeable scent, she mused, almost as agreeable as the Captain's.

"Well? Does it look appetizing?" Janeway beamed, anxiously awaiting her opinion.

"It certainly looks...colorful," Seven replied candidly, one corner of her mouth curling up, "but yes, it does look appetizing."

"Good, I really hope you like it." The older woman fervently unraveled her cloth napkin. "We'll continue practicing getting to know each other while we eat. Shall we dig in?"

"Yes, Captain," came the cool, resonant response.

And just like that, the last of the Captain's resolve had whittled away and she finally had about all she could take.

"I think for the duration of this evening," Janeway paused, smiling weakly, "I'd prefer it if you called me Kathryn."