Author's Notes:

Alexithymia means the inability to adequately express emotions verbally.

Game Theory

Chapter 2 - Alexithymia

There are some secrets best left uncovered.

There are some legends best forgotten.

There are some tombs best left sealed.

Heed this warning traveller, and be on your way.

For within lies The Enemy; evil with lidless eyes, and a heart as dark as the void.

- Eternity Ark Inscription

"Regeneration cycle complete."

Seven of Nine opened her eyes, and was greeted with the familiar sight of cargo bay two staring back at her. The twin metal prongs of the alcove disengaged from her lower back, and she lithely stepped down from the dais, immediately going to her work console and activating it. The time was 1745 hours; 15 minutes until her scheduled Velocity match with the Captain.

The sport, played on the holodeck with hand phasers and a virtual disk, was one of the few recreational pastimes Seven indulged in. She found that it provided her with acceptable levels of physical and mental exercise, requiring its players to be both athletic and tactical in their approach. More importantly however, it allowed her to spend more time with the Captain.

Not for the first time, Seven pondered what this meant. Although she had been largely accepted by the Voyager crew, there were still very few of them she would consider 'friends'. Some, like the chief engineer, B'Elanna Torres, were openly hostile towards her. The majority acted indifferent, treating her with politeness and professionalism, yet making no attempt to approach her on a social level. And she could count those that she felt an emotional connection to on one hand. The Captain did not fit neatly into any of these categories however. She respected people like Tuvok and the Doctor, and enjoyed their company (although when it came to the Emergency Medical Hologram, only in small doses), but applying that description to her relationship with Kathryn seemed...insufficient. She wondered if there was a social level above 'friend'. Of course, there was romantic partnership, but since she and the Captain did not engage in any of the customs associated with such a status, that was not a relevant description. Besides, both she and the Captain were female, and therefore they were incompatible for such a relationship.

She did not know why, but that thought produced a strange, unpleasant sensation in her chest.

Consulting her internal chronometer, she realised that she had delayed longer than she should have. She now had only 10 minutes to get to the holodeck. Annoyed that she had lost track of time, even if it was only for a few minutes, Seven hurriedly got ready. She assumed a brisk pace as she left the cargo bay, to ensure she reached her destination punctually.

The Captain was not there when she arrived, precisely on the dot of 1800 hours. Seven often wondered why humans would specify a time and then not obey their own directive. Then she had to remind herself that their mental clock was not as efficient as her own. Kathryn was never more than a few minutes late however, and Seven found that it did not irritate her to the same extent it would with another crewmember. It was just another thing to add to the growing list of exceptions regarding the older woman.

Never one to waste time when she could be productive, Seven picked up where her thoughts had left off minutes ago. Like in astrometrics the other day, she debated whether or not to consult the Doctor, having changed her mind several times already. It was true that he was a medical professional and also her 'official' coach in integrating herself into human society. He was the most logical person to ask about her confusing feelings. Nevertheless, she was also reluctant to share what she felt, finding it too 'personal' to discuss. It was a far cry from her days in the collective, where there so such thing as a private thought and everything was shared freely.

Perhaps it is possible to employ deception. Seven mused, remembering what she had learnt about lying and falsifying. In general, it was considered a bad and amoral practice, and not something Seven was comfortable with at all. However, in this case, perhaps she could use a 'white lie' or a 'lie of omission', which she understood were more acceptable. She could talk to the Doctor about her feelings without revealing who they were directed at. He was bound by an ethical code which prevented him from forcing her to reveal more information, unless it was essential to her health or the functioning of the ship; which Seven doubted was the case.

Pleased that she had found a potential solution to her quandary, Seven resolved to go to sickbay immediately after the coming match.

"Ah, there you are," came a familiar, smoky voice, and Seven turned to see the Captain approaching down the corridor. "Early, like usual."

"Actually, I arrived at the specified time," the Borg replied. "It is you who are late."

After saying it, she realised that it sounded like an accusation, when in truth, she had simply wanted to correct Janeway's statement. If it bothered the Captain though, she didn't let it show.

"My mistake. I was just making doubly sure the science departments are ready for the examination tomorrow. I trust astrometrics is prepared," Janeway gestured towards the holodeck doors, and they stepped inside.

"Yes, Captain. Sensors are running at peak efficiency. I have calibrated the spectral range to the higher EM bands emitted by the artefact. It should allow our scans to penetrate the outer hull," Seven eyed Janeway as they retrieved their phasers, hoping that the work would meet with her approval.

"Excellent," the Captain smiled, and Seven felt a small shiver run down her spine. It seemed she had been correct in her assessment that pleasing Kathryn would also please her.

The older woman took her position on the starting square.

"Shall we?"

Seven mirrored the action and readied her weapon.

"Proceed."

"Computer, begin program," Janeway ordered, flashing Seven a quick, challenging smirk before they began their latest confrontation.

Just under an hour later, the two women left the holodeck, both sweaty and exhausted from the frantic game they'd just had. However, only Janeway wore the triumphant grin of victory.

"Better luck next time," she said, patting Seven on the shoulder and trying not to sound too condescending.

"I do not understand," the Borg complained. "I am physically superior, yet you continue to defeat me in every match we play. How is this possible?"

Janeway chuckled slightly to herself at Seven's bluntness. Coming from anyone else, that sentence would be the epitome of arrogance. From Seven though, she knew it was just a statement of fact and genuine confusion. Her Borg enhancements did indeed elevate her above an average human, granting her superior strength and reflexes, as well as enhanced mental capabilities, such as her eidetic memory. By all accounts, she should be wiping the floor with the older, smaller Captain. Janeway chalked it up to experience.

"To be honest Seven, I'm not sure. I have been playing the game much longer than you," she replied. "You're definitely getting better though, and the scores are getting narrower each time. I think your first victory can't be too far off."

Janeway was about to continue, when to her dismay, she found herself stifling a yawn.

It's that damn insomnia. She brooded, remembering the previous evening. It had taken her half the night to fall asleep, and just a few hours after she finally managed it, she found herself waking up, muffling a scream and drenched in cold perspiration. She couldn't remember any of the dream she'd been having beforehand, but it had clearly been unpleasant. After that, her body had simply refused to get comfortable, and she'd only managed to doze lightly until her morning alarm call.

Seven looked at her with concern, which touched Kathryn's heart, but rankled Janeway. She couldn't go around letting her crew know just how tired she was.

"You require regeneration," the Borg said, sounding remarkably like she was ordering the Captain to bed.

"Says the pot to the kettle," Janeway replied, clamping down on her irritation and forcing herself to be pleasant. After all, it was hardly Seven's fault that she wasn't sleeping well.

Now that you mention it...

Janeway ignored her inner voice, refocusing her attention on Seven's bemused expression.

"Captain, neither of us are items of kitchenware."

Drawing a blank for a second, Janeway realised Seven was referring to the idiom.

"It's a saying Seven," she said, happy to be back in the familiar territory of educating the younger woman. "Or rather, the shortened version of the saying. 'The pot calling the kettle black.' It means you shouldn't criticise someone about something you're guilty of yourself. I know how lax you can be with your regeneration cycles."

"I did not intend to criticise you Captain," Seven looked shocked at the idea. Ironic, Janeway thought, considering how many times the Borg had disagreed with her in the past.

"No offence taken Seven. I was only teasing."

"'Teasing'," Seven said, as if tasting the word, "I see."

"Good," Janeway searched around for something to say to move the conversation on. "What are your plans now?"

"I am going to report to sickbay," Seven replied matter-of-factly.

"Sickbay?" Janeway fought hard to keep the note of alarm out of her voice. Seven had a nasty habit of springing important things on you when you least expected it. "Are...are you okay? Why didn't you say something sooner?"

"I am 'fine', Captain," the younger woman said earnestly, although Janeway thought she could detect a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. "I merely wish to consult the Doctor about something of a...personal nature. It concerns my lessons on socialising."

"Oh," the Captain immediately regretted assuming the worst. Damn it, why was she so jumpy; especially around Seven? "Oh. I see. Well, I won't pry then; but if you want to talk about it at any point, my door is always open."

Perhaps that's going a bit far. Janeway thought, remembering the times when Seven had come to her in the middle of the night to discuss some new aspect of humanity she found illogical. The Captain didn't exactly appreciate being woken up in the wee hours of the morning, especially now that her sleep was so disrupted. Nevertheless, she liked to think that her talks with Seven were an important part of the woman's development and integration, and she was loathe to impose any restrictions that might discourage her from coming. She just hoped that Seven had learnt enough to realise it was impolite to bother people while they were 'regenerating'.

"Thank you," there was that rare smile again. Janeway could only endure a few seconds before glancing away, disguising the action as a cough.

After a moment of silence that felt awkward to Janeway, but didn't seem to bother Seven, the blonde woman turned to go, apparently deciding that enough had been said. She took a few steps, then suddenly turned back.

"Goodnight, Captain," she said, her voice surprisingly soft; not at all like her usual, clipped manner of speaking.

"Goodnight Seven," Kathryn replied, swallowing; startled and charmed by the pleasantry.

She's come so far.

Her eyes bored a hole in Seven's back until the Borg had disappeared round a corner and out of view. Only then did Janeway move, heading back to the suddenly miserable thought of her empty quarters and the promise of another sleepless night.

Seven strode into sickbay, stopping just inside the door and scanning the room for the distinctive teal of a Starfleet medical uniform. As she entered, the Doctor glanced up from where he had been working in his office.

"Ah, Seven, this is an unexpected treat," he exclaimed, closing his workstation. "What brings you to my humble abode?"

The blonde resisted rolling her eyes. She valued the Doctor as a friend, but that did not prevent his mannerisms from annoying her on occasion. Since he had been activated, the Emergency Medical Hologram had been in almost continuous service; far longer than most holograms. Over time, he had developed from his core programming, gaining what was widely recognised as sentience. Unfortunately, he had also developed a somewhat arrogant, pompous demeanour. Seven wondered if those were traits of the man he was based on, or if he had 'evolved' them all on his own. It was an interesting question, but not why she was here.

"Doctor," she greeted evenly. "I have come to seek your advice regarding some of my human systems."

"Is this a medical query?" he said, withdrawing a tricorder and beginning a routine scan.

"I am uncertain," Seven replied honestly. "I have noticed fluctuations in my respiration and heart rate. I have also been experiencing...persistent thoughts that I cannot seem to dismiss."

"Hmm. I'll need a bit more than that to work with," Seven leant backwards slightly as the Doctor brought the medical probe right up to her face. "When have you noticed these...abnormalities? And for how long have they been occurring?"

Seven considered her response one last time. All the Doctor needed to know was that these symptoms were triggered by the presence of another individual. Surely it did not matter who this individual was, apart from satisfying the Doctor's curiosity? Seven did not like withholding information, but she remembered what Kathryn had told her; that she should 'trust her gut'. Well, this time, her 'gut' was telling her to remain silent on the matter.

"They occur in the presence of another crewmember," she stated, noting the way the Doctor's eyes widened at the statement. "When I am near them, my heart rate elevates, and I occasionally have difficulty breathing. After they have left, images and memories of them linger in my head. They distract me from my work, and although I try to ignore them, I cannot."

The Doctor withdrew his probe, sliding it back into the tricorder. Seven thought it was an illogical thing to do; should he not be scanning for the cause of the problem? Nevertheless, she continued.

"My emotional state is also affected by this individual. I find that I am influenced by their feelings more than those of other people. If they are upset, it upsets me as well, even if there is no cause for my sadness. Similarly, when they are happy, it causes warm sensations in my stomach which my own internal diagnostics cannot identify."

"I see," said the Doctor. He wore an expression which Seven could not interpret.

"How are you going to proceed?" she asked, feeling irritated that she seemingly had to tell the Doctor how to do his job.

"There's nothing I can do," the EMH replied. "At least, nothing physical. This doesn't sound like a medical problem, Seven."

"Then it is a psychological problem?" the Borg replied, ocular implant rising in concern.

"It's not a problem at all," the Doctor let out a slightly exasperated sigh; clearly meant to prove a point, since he did not naturally breathe. "Seven, whoever this mysterious person is...you've got a crush on them."

"A...'crush'? Explain." Seven cut across him. She could feel her irritation rising. The Doctor was making no sense.

"'Crush'. It means feelings of romantic or sexual attraction towards someone."

Seven made a mental note to contact B'Elanna and have her run a level one diagnostic on the EMH's systems. He must be faulty in some way, because clearly his diagnosis was incorrect. She and Janeway were not compatible romantically, therefore it was impossible that she had developed a 'crush' on the older woman.

"You are mistaken," she said in the meantime. "It is not possible I am attracted to this person."

"I'm afraid the 'symptoms' are quite clear Seven," he replied, making little inverted commas in the air with his fingers for emphasis. "It's a perfectly natural part of being human. Everyone experiences these feelings all the time."

Seven let his words sink in, and she could feel the colour draining from her face. If he was correct, and she did indeed have a 'crush' on Captain Janeway, then there was something seriously wrong with her. Perhaps her Borg systems were interfering with her brain chemistry. She had to make the Doctor realise this.

"Then I am defective," she stated, her voice trembling slightly.

"Really Seven, that's a rather strong word to use," the Doctor rambled on. "Like I said, it's perfectly normal. I suppose it was inevitable really, sooner or later. I just hope whoever the guy is, he realises his luck. I'm sure he'll be the envy of the..."

"You do not understand!" Seven cut him off, her voice rising. This was urgent; who knew how much danger she was in? The fact that her 'crush' was beginning to intensify could be a sign of a much more severe problem. "It is not natural. The person is…is female."

If she'd thought the Doctor had looked surprised before, it was nothing compared to the expression he wore now. He opened his mouth, but didn't seem to have anything to say.

It must be a really serious defect to render him speechless. Seven thought. She was scared, and found herself wishing Kathryn was there, despite the Captain apparently being the root of her problem.

After a few long moments, the Doctor seemed to compose himself, although now he suddenly seemed fascinated by the wall just to the right of Seven's head, and refused to meet her eyes.

"Oh...Well...I, er, I see."

"Then you understand the severity of the situation. You must locate the source of the defect immediately."

"Seven...there is no defect," if she didn't know him better, Seven could almost think the Doctor looked...embarrassed? "That...That's also perfectly normal. People can be attracted to members of the same sex."

"But you stated that romantic partnerships are formed between a man and a woman," Seven could feel her panic recede, since clearly the Doctor did not think she was in any danger. It was quickly replaced by confusion. Apparently she was lacking knowledge of some important variables.

"Well, yes, often that is true. However, it's not quite as simple as that, something which I perhaps...neglected...to mention before."

"'Perhaps' you should 'mention' it now," Seven fixed the EMH with an icy stare.

"Very well," the Doctor heaved another dramatic sigh, and Seven had to resist the urge to expedite his explanation with her fist. "Seven, throughout human history, there has always been a minority which is attracted to members of the same sex, or to members of both sexes. For whatever reason, this used to be frowned upon. However, it has been an accepted part of society for many decades now. About ten percent of people identify themselves as either homosexual or bi-sexual."

"Why did you not inform me of this during my lessons on romance and dating? Why did you not include females in my lists of potentially suitable partners?"

"It...It didn't seem...necessary," the Doctor said lamely. "Statistically, you would only be attracted to men...I didn't think...I didn't realize it would be relevant."

"Clearly your assumption that this information would be irrelevant was incorrect."

"I see that now," the EMH looked like he was about to formulate another excuse, then all of a sudden, he deflated, apparently deciding that this wasn't something he could bluster his way out of. "I am sorry Seven. I just wanted to keep things simple for you; not overload you with too many options at once. It seemed easier to stick to men, and it improved your chances of success. After all, if only one in ten women are, well, gay, then that limits your options."

"Is sexual preference a choice?" Seven relented a bit, although she was still angry that the Doctor had decided to withhold information from her that was potentially vital to her success romantically.

"No...no, it's not." The Doctor sighed again, but this time it was more contrite than exasperated. "It's just a part of who you are. It can take people time to figure out what their preference is, but they can't choose to change it."

"So if a woman is attracted to men, they will not take a female partner?" Seven's thoughts immediately turned to Kathryn. The Captain had not been romantically involved with anyone since they became lost in the delta quadrant, but Seven knew she had been engaged to a male, before the man in question had terminated the relationship.

"Well, these things are never quite that clear cut. Perhaps she has the potential to be attracted to women, but just hasn't found the right one yet. Honestly, it's more to do with the individual than the gender. People have preferences, but they can change on a case-by-case basis, if the attraction is strong enough."

Seven was surprised by the Doctor's words. He was not usually so straightforward and honest with his explanations. Perhaps he was attempting to 'make-up' for his mistake in not informing her of these details sooner.

This gave her hope.

"Very well. How do I ascertain whether this individual is agreeable to a same-gender coupling?" now that she was aware of the possibility for her and Kathryn to engage in a romantic relationship, her feelings made a lot more sense.

"I, uh, well, it depends," the EMH ventured tentatively. "Who is it?"

Seven had known the question was coming. Now that she understood better, however, she was even more determined not to reveal the identity of her 'crush'. She did not want anyone to be aware of it yet, especially not the Captain, who had a habit of finding out every piece of public information on the ship sooner or later.

"I would prefer not to say."

"I guessed as much. Well, Seven, I'm afraid that I'm probably not the best person to ask. I may have many skills, but this isn't one of them. Perhaps you could ask the Captain? She's been able to help you in the past."

"I do not believe the Captain will be able to help me with this matter," Seven replied, noting the irony of the statement.

"In that case, I guess you'll just have to figure it out yourself," the Doctor smiled, although it seemed rather forced. "Was there anything else?"

"That is all I require at this time," Seven nodded at the Doctor, before adding. "Thank you for your assistance. However, in the future, you will discuss all possibilities with me, and allow me to decide which pieces of information are relevant myself."

"Yes, of course."

"Acceptable," Seven left sickbay, her mind whirling with questions and ideas. The possibility of same-sex partnerships had revitalised her interest in romantic relationships, which she had previously dismissed after finding no acceptable matches among Voyager's crew. It appeared she had been looking in the wrong place. Unbidden, images of Kathryn came to mind, but this time she did not try to suppress them.

Usually, even when she was off duty, Seven would spend her free time in astrometrics, working on whatever project currently occupied her, or finding ways to improve the efficiency of the sensor systems. Now though, she had a new project of an entirely different nature, and instead, she headed back to cargo bay two. There was much research to be done.

As soon as the doors to her quarters had shut, Kathryn Janeway threw herself down on the sofa, allowing a small groan of frustration to escape her lips.

This isn't going to go away, is it?

She had been dancing around the subject for so long, avoiding it like the plague and hoping it would simply vanish. When that hadn't worked, she'd tried suppressing it, stuffing her feelings deep into her mind, and slamming her command mask down over top, like trying to cram an extra pair of shoes into an already bulging suitcase. Now each time she so much as looked at the young Borg, she could feel herself fraying at the seams, and she knew it was only a matter of time before something gave way. Possibly her sanity.

It's time to face facts. You lo-

She stopped herself, instinctively cutting off the line of thought before she even realised what she was doing.

Have I really conditioned myself that much? She thought sadly. Not to show any signs of humanity? Not to even think like a human?

Bringing a hand up to her aching temples, Janeway massaged them as best she could. It did little to alleviate the pressure which was threatening to split her skull open. Was it any wonder she wasn't sleeping well? Carrying around all this pent-up emotion couldn't be good for her.

It's not about what's good for you; it's about what's good for the ship. Janeway reminded herself. The crew needs you to be something more than human. You have to remain impartial and aloof, otherwise it will compromise your ability to make the right decisions.

And is it really good for the ship to have a Captain who's so dog tired she can barely drag herself out of bed in the morning? Kathryn retorted. To have a Captain so lonely she's beginning to lose her mind? How can you make the right decisions for the individuals of this ship if you can't even make the right decisions for yourself?

You have made the right decision! There are some things you must be prepared to sacrifice as Captain. You are responsible for Voyager and its crew. That doesn't leave room for anything or anyone else.

This is more than a crew and you know it. We aren't in the alpha quadrant. Like it or not, we are a family now, and cutting yourself, your true self, off from everyone else harms your position, it doesn't strengthen it. You've already made a dozen compromises, especially when it comes to her. What's so different about making one more? What's so difficult in allowing yourself to love her?

"So I do love her," Janeway murmured. There was no sense in trying to deny it. She did love Seven, and she had done so for a very long time.

What did this mean? Did acknowledging it change anything? She'd been so afraid of speaking or even thinking the words, yet now that they were said, she realised she'd known it all along. It seemed almost laughable that she hadn't admitted it to herself sooner.

The question now, was what should she do about it?

Nothing. Janeway thought sternly.

Because that's worked well so far. Kathryn snapped at herself sarcastically. You can't just choose not to love someone. And ignoring and denying it has only made things worse. How much longer can you keep this up and still function as a Captain, much less a thinking, feeling individual? If you care so much about this ship, you owe it to yourself to do whatever it takes to ensure you are at your best. And if that involves loving six feet of gorgeous, blonde Borg, so much the better.

It would undermine my position with the crew. Janeway wasn't backing down without a fight. Family or not, I am still their leader. They have to trust that I will make decisions that are in the best interests of this ship. If you love Seven, how can they be sure you aren't acting out of personal interests? How can they be sure you won't treat her preferentially? They will lose their trust and respect for you.

You already treat her preferentially you idiot. Can't you see that? She's the only one you spend time with on a regular basis for anything besides ship business. She's one of the few people ever to set foot in your quarters. You constantly bend the rules for her. And does anyone begrudge it? No. Do you think B'Elanna's engineering team distrusts her because of her relationship with Paris?

That's different and you know it.

Perhaps, but it doesn't change the fact that the crew want every member of this ship to be happy, including you. They-

It's irrelevant anyway. Janeway smiled wryly, suddenly changing tack. Even if you do love her, what are the chances Seven feels the same? She's never shown real interest in any kind of romantic relationship before. No doubt she sees it as irrelevant. And even if she doesn't, do you honestly think she'd want you? Someone twice her age, with all the burdens and responsibilities of command. Face it, she sees you as a mentor and nothing more.

Kathryn could come up with no argument against that. Her Captain's sensibilities spoke the soul-crushing truth. Whether or not she loved Seven, and whether or not she admitted it to herself or anyone else, at the end of the day, it was still a moot point. Seven could never love her back. As a mother figure maybe…

But not the way I love her.

Janeway should have felt triumphant. She'd successfully quashed Kathryn's voice once again. Without it, she could go back to being what the crew expected her to be; what they demanded she be.

So why did she feel so hollow? Why did her insides ache, like someone had sucker-punched her in the gut? Why…

Why was she crying?

Oh God.

Try as she might, she couldn't stop the steady stream of tears which had begun to flow. All she could do was, with a sniffly and trembling voice, order a privacy lock on her door and communicator. Once that was done, she just lay on the couch, crying silently until the grey haze of sleep eventually came and stole her troubled mind away.