Part 4

"Seven, you are pregnant," he told her with a smile. "Congratulations, you are going to be a mother," he proclaimed, clapping his hands together. "I am so happy for you. You are going to be an excellent mother!"

"Wha…. what?" Seven yelped, as her face drained of any color. "I must be malfunctioning. My hearing is impaired. Perhaps I am hallucinating. Or maybe this is just a dream," she vaguely whispered. Shell shocked, she turned over on the bed, completely ignoring the Doctor's ramblings.

"Seven, I assure you, you are not malfunctioning, you are not hallucinating, and you are most definitely not dreaming," he told her. "Would you like to have Chakotay come so we can tell him he's going to be a father?"

Irritated, Seven jolted up off the bed and yanked the PADD out of the Doctor's hand. "Give me that," she demanded, and began to examine the test results. She shook her head. "Your data is inaccurate. This is not possible," she fired. She did a self-examination, which confirmed the Doctor's diagnosis.

"How can this be? How did this happen?" she snapped.

The Doctor put a gentle hand to her back. "You do recall our lesson on the birds and the bees, right?" he asked with a curious brow.

Anger filled Seven's veins at his tone. She had never felt this aggravated before, and all she wanted to do was tear off someone's cranium. "Being on Earth has rendered everyone morons," she spewed. "I am not pregnant. Your instruments are defective," she insisted.

The Doctor softened his voice. "Seven, they are not defective. You are pregnant. You need to accept this so we can get you on a prenatal treatment plan. Now, given the unique circumstances, I will want to monitor you and the baby throughout the remainder of your gestation," he told her gently, yet firmly.

Seven closed her eyes and gathered a deep breath. She would figure this out and get through this. She was Borg!

"So, shall I bring in Chakotay so we can tell him the good news?"

Doctor, I may have an embryo developing in a uterus that spontaneously repaired itself, but Chakotay is not the paternal unit. It is not possible. I have not been with him in that way."

"That way?"

Annoyed, Seven groaned. "We have not copulated, or to use your childish term, combined the birds and the bees," she mocked. "

Shocked, the Doctor's eyes widened. "But…but…but….you're…."

"Yes, apparently I am with child," she scoffed, as she examined the readings again. "According to the data, the embryo was conceived eleven weeks and four days ago." She frowned as she internally calculated the math. It did not compute. She had only had one sexual partner, and that was Kathryn. There was no scientific explanation for how two females could combine genetic material and conceive a fetus without some sort of medical intervention.

"I apologize for jumping to conclusions," he voiced sincerely. "So, by your calculations, the father is someone on Voyager, but not Chakotay."

Tears filled Seven's eyes as an alarming thought came to her. She was pregnant, and she had no idea who the father was. She searched every data base in her eidetic memory, although she was certain she would remember engaging in sexual intercourse with someone else. It was not possible. She had only had intimate relations with Kathryn, and that was precisely eleven weeks, four days, seven hours, ten minutes, and nine seconds ago. With a sharp growl, she forced the PADD back into the Doctor's hands.

"Doctor, I would like you to examine a sample of the fetus' genetic code," she demanded.

Blinking, he hesitated only a moment before catching on, and immediately retrieved the sample.

"It will take the computer a couple of minutes to match the DNA. If the father is or ever has been in Starfleet, he will be in the database."

The computer sounded, indicating a match. Seven exhaled a breath, relieved she would know for certain the identity of the other parent. Two pairs of eyes gravitated to the screen, the Doctor eager and Seven anxious with anticipation. She silently told herself that regardless of the results, she would adapt. I am Borg, she reminded herself.

A photo emerged on the screen, causing the Doctor to shoot his patient a confused look. Seven's face was white, and she looked as if she might pass out.

"How can this be?" he inquired.

Tears gathered in Seven's eyes as a hand gently slipped over her stomach.

"This doesn't make any sense. I mean, Admiral Edward Janeway has been dead…." He trailed off, then blinked, and read the output once more, as it finally hit him. If Admiral Edward Janeway was the closest male DNA match, and he was, and if he was dead, which he most certainly was, then that meant that the baby's father had to be….

None of the Doctor's medical education, none of the diseases and conditions he had treated in hundreds of species in all the galaxies prepared him for what science had just confirmed. He glanced at his patient, and her tearful face would have broken his heart…. if he had one.

"You need to tell her, Seven," he told her firmly. "She would want to know. She deserves to know."

Seven squared her shoulders and firmed her jaw. "This is my child, and mine alone. I do not require her assistance with parental duties."

The Doctor raised his head and met her fiery gaze. "She has the right to know. This is her child, too."

Seven frantically shook her head. "Why? So she can tell me that this child is a mistake and force me to terminate it? NO!" she adamantly voiced.

"I do not believe she would do that," he tried.

"You don't know that," she countered, bitterness in her voice.

"I do not know what happened between the two of you, but I do know that Kathryn Janeway would want to know her child. She would want to help care for him or her."

"I am this child's mother, and I will provide all the nurturance and developmental necessities he or she requires," she voiced. Crossing her arms, she leveled him a hard glare. "Need I remind you of your oath pertaining to doctor patient confidentiality?" she challenged.

The Doctor clenched his jaw. She was right, but he did not want to admit it. Finally, he sighed in resignation. "My lips are sealed," he finally conceded.

Seven swiped at her cheeks, then cleared her throat. "I no longer require your assistance. You may exit."

"We need to set up your prenatal plan," he gently reminded.

"I will contact you," she said coldly. "I just…." she faded off and swallowed. "I need…." she tried again."

"You take all the time you need," he told her. He wanted to say more, but instead he gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and walked out the door.

A few minutes later, Chakotay appeared. "Seven," he greeted in a low, worried tone. "What is it? What did the Doctor say?"

She gathered a deep breath and narrowed in on the man who had done nothing but care for her since they arrived here. "You may want to sit down for this."

…

All in all, she thought he took the news better than she thought he would. She was surprised at how supportive he was, even more so when he knelt down and took her hand.

"Marry me," he husked, his brown eyes shimmering with affection.

Blinking, Seven regarded him with intrigue. "You want to marry me? After what I have just shared with you?" she asked in disbelief.

"I don't care who the father is, I can be this baby's father," he said, then his brow furrowed. He paused for a moment, seeing how her eyes looked down at him. "Unless you want to be with the father." He hadn't thought of that; he just knew he didn't want to lose her. He loved her, and he would love her child as if it were his own.

"No, I don't," she told him, even though she knew in her heart she did, and always would. It was Kathryn who didn't want to be with her.

"So," he swallowed, and Seven could sense the worry in his tone. "You know I love you, right?"

"I do," she sighed sadly. "I'm sorry, but I cannot allow you to do this."

Chakotay now got to his feet and gazed at Seven. He could see how distraught she looked, and he felt his heart ache. "You don't love me, do you?"

"I do love you, but not in the way you deserve to be loved."

He frowned, then slowly nodded. "You do know who the father is, don't you?"

Seven let her breath out slowly as she nodded. "Yes."

"I see. Are you in love with him?"

Once again, Seven nodded. "Yes. I do. I've always loved her," she confessed.

Chakotay's eyes widened. He immediately knew who she was talking about without having to be told. He was in shock at the admission, and he certainly could not begin to understand how this could be, but in his heart, he knew.

"You need to tell her."

"I will never. You shall never speak of this to anyone, especially to her," she voiced, her face hardening.

Chakotay sighed, and then hesitated as he blew out a harsh breath. "It is not my place. Your secret is safe with me," he told her sincerely, then pulled her into his arms and held her. "You won't have to do this alone, Seven. You will always have me, even if it's just as your friend," he promised.

Seven closed her eyes and melted into his embrace. "Thank you," she said, then began to cry, because apparently pregnancy hormones caused humans to be excessively weepy.

….

The reddish city skyline stretched out across Seven's sight as she stood out on her balcony, letting the thinner air float around her. She could hardly believe she was here. She had found the Earth's gravity to be heavy, but Vulcan gravity was weighing her down even more. She was nearing the end of her pregnancy, and although she had been told repeatedly that she was absolutely glowing, she did not discern anything shimmering about her. She could no longer wear any of her bio suits, or any of the clothes Chakotay had gifted her. Her wardrobe now consisted of either Starfleet uniforms of Vulcan garments she had acquired.

Once she accepted that she was indeed going to have a baby, she readily accepted Starfleet's job offer, on the condition she completed her training in Vulcan, which they happily agreed to. The local Vulcan community had welcomed her with open arms, proud to have a bona fide Starfleet hero among them, even if she was part Borg.

It did not take her long to assimilate, and she flourished there. She completed her training faster than any of the other cadets, which did not surprise her at all. After all, she was Borg.

Between adapting to her new environment and completing her training, she managed to refrain from thinking about her baby's other mother. However, at night, when she was alone, she would long for Kathryn as she quietly cried as she softly sang to their baby.

….

Kathryn exhaled softly and closed her eyes as she tilted her head back in her office chair, recalling the conversation she had with B'Elanna yesterday.

She could scarcely believe it had been over five months since she had promised Tom she would look in on his wife and child. They both were doing great, except for the Klingon missing Janeway's former helmsman.

They had not talked much about the rest of the crew of Voyager, usually focusing on catching up with each other, and of course, how Miral was growing and learning. However, this time B'Elanna casually mentioned that Tom ran into Tuvok, who told him that he ran into Seven on Vulcan.

Kathryn was shocked and wanted to know why Seven was there. All B'Elanna knew was that she and Chakotay were no longer together, and that Seven was quickly moving up the ranks at Starfleet.

The Admiral sat there and contemplated why Seven would leave Earth right after she had gotten there, but deep down she knew it was all because of her and what she had done to the poor girl.

"You offered her your help, then pulled the rug right out from under her," she grimaced and then let her gaze linger on the open screen in front of her, which held Seven's personnel file in Starfleet. Well, as much of it she had access to, anyway. She wondered if she could just show up on Vulcan as a guest speaker, and just happened to run into Seven. Perhaps they could finally talk and clear the air. There was so much she wanted to say…. needed to say to her.

A slow smile split her lips for the first time since she exited that worm hole. She reached for the com. "Yes Admiral," she heard her receptionist right away.

"I need you to set up a meeting with Admiral Shanthi."

"Right away Admiral."

Janeway stretched back in her chair, the smile still on her face.

…..

Seven stared at the two pips that stood out on her collar. She couldn't believe she was a Lieutenant already. She sighed as her gaze moved from her collar to her midriff. Any day now, she would be having a baby. She rubbed slow circles over her sizable bump and smiled.

"I can't wait to meet you," Seven husked, and deep down she really was. Whenever anyone asked her if she was excited about the baby, she told them that emotions were irrelevant, but in her heart she felt overwhelmed with the anticipation of meeting this baby. Her baby. THEIR baby. It baffled her how much she could love someone she had never even met.

She had run into Tuvok about a month ago, and she took notice of the befuddled expression on his face at seeing the evidence of her condition. She was getting ready to meet him for a quiet dinner at one of the best restaurants on Vulcan. She gave herself one last look in the mirror, fixing her hair to let long curls fall around her shoulders. She was amazed at how fast it seemed to grow.

Seven had received a lot of compliments lately when she wore her hair down, so she decided to keep it this way.

The door chimed, and her internal clock indicated that he was right on time.

"Tuvok," she greeted. "I am prepared to accompany you to dinner."

He nodded and held out an arm for her to take.

Puzzled, she gave him questioning look. "Explain," she voiced.

"I am going to escort you." His brow lifted somewhat, then he glanced at her protruding stomach.

"I am adequate. I am pregnant, I am not damaged," she huffed.

He gathered a breath. "Yes, but I was told to be extra careful tonight. You are due any day now," he told her.

"I am aware of my due date," she snapped. "I am reminded that I am close to my neonate being extracted every time I bend over to get something, not to mention the constant ache in my back and in my feet," she grumbled.

Tuvok smiled; he had some experience dealing with moody, pregnant women. "As I recall, T'Pel said the exact same thing, which is why she instructed me to watch out for you this evening."

Seven had met his wife and had immediately liked her. She had grown quite fond of the woman, who was both wise and smart, and she was well aware of the ramifications of either her or Tuvok going against T'Pel's orders. Sighing in resignation, she stepped toward him, took his arm, and allowed him to lead the way.

….

Seven poked at her t'mirak rice and then made a face at it.

"Is your meal not up to standard?" Tuvok asked.

"My digestive system is not craving nutrition," she commented weakly.

Tuvok's brow hung heavily. "Now that is peculiar. I believe I have never seen that before. Well, not since of late anyway."

Puzzled, Seven realized that his observation was indeed correct. "Yes, it is very peculiar," she agreed.

Suddenly, warm hands clouded her vision, and she immediately felt alarmed, wondering who would be foolish enough to do such a thing. She was about to unhand them, and oh, how she would insure it was painful, but before she could, she breathed in a familiar scent and her heart slowed.

"Now, Lieutenant, I did warn you about this," she voiced, but playfulness was evident in her town.

"How did you know it was me?"

Seven raised her optical implant. "Who else would dare to do that?" Her tone was light, masking the fraction of a second she had hoped it might be someone else.

"Ning," Tuvok acknowledged. "I see congratulations are in order. You did it," he complimented.

Ning was half Terrain and half Vulcan. "I did, thanks to Seven helping me," she smiled, her eyes never leaving Seven's.

"I only assisted you one time."

Ning quickly shook her head. "Oh, please, stop being so modest Seven and just take the credit. In fact, I believe I owe you a drink."

Seven was about to object, and Ning just giggled.

"I know, Seven. But as soon as the Doctor gives you the go ahead, I am going to buy you that drink," she winked.

They continued to make small talk, well, actually Ning did most of the talking, going on and on about how great Seven was. Tuvok finally had heard enough. Standing up, he decided to excuse himself.

"Well, I hate to cut this short, but I really should get home."

Seven was feeling weary, and slowly stood as well. "Yes, my energy is depleted also. I shall return home to regenerate as well." It seemed as if these days, all she wanted to do was sleep, even after successful regeneration.

Ning looked disappointed. "Oh," she grimaced, then realized she had interrupted their entire dinner. "I'm so sorry, I did not mean to intrude."

"It is okay," Seven said, offering her a tender glance. Then suddenly she felt the pain of ten photon torpedoes implode throughout her body. On instinct, she reached out for anything to hold her steady, but both Tuvok and Ning were immediately at her side and holding her upright.

"Seven!" Ning yelped.

Tuvok was already using the device the doctor had made to get a hold of him. "I am uncertain, but I believe it is time," the Commander said as soon as he heard the Doctor's voice.

They rushed Seven to the nearby medical lab they had agreed on and proceeded to try to get the Borg comfortable.

"I have never hurt like this!" Seven snarled through gritted teeth. "I am Borg I will adapt," she grunted.

"It's okay Seven, you'll be fine. Your contractions seemed to be 5 minutes apart….and…." Ning tried to reassure her friend.

"Have you ever expelled a fetus from your body?" Seven interrupted loudly, air coming through clenched teeth.

Ning pursed her lips and shook her head. "Then do not tell me what I am experiencing, you have no concept of it."

She tried to remember the breathing technique she had learned, but this pain was more intense than anything she had ever felt…. even with all the Borg implants she had removed.

"I…." She cried out as another round of pain flashed through her.

The nurse on duty began to get Seven in a gown, proceeded to prepare her for what was to come.

"I know what is coming," Seven bit, as sweat gathered at her temples. "I…. I should have…. tol…" the next contraction hit, and it was so strong that she passed out.

Worried faces filled the room, and even the normally unflappable Doctor stopped the soft melody he was humming as he prepared for the delivery.

"Prep her for surgery," he ordered, his eyes wide. "Now!"