Disclaimers in part 1

He didn't know why he felt so uneasy. He'd met Seven at Sandrine's before
and tonight was no different. The French tavern was empty now except a few
holocharacters. He absently drummed his fingers on the table and turned his
glass, still full of whatever the barkeep had set in front of him. Strange,
he wasn't programmed to fidget. He'd decided to dress for the occasion, a
subtle but attractive suit. It wasn't very often he had the opportunity to
be casual.

As she walked in all processes left him. She was dressed in her usual
date-style, flattering dress, hair falling loosely at her shoulders, and she
was stunning. He had it all cataloged in his memory.

"Good evening, Seven," he said as he stood to pull out her chair.

"Good evening, Doctor. I approve of the setting. I would like to discuss
some things with you that would be more suited to a private area." Her
expression didn't give him a clue to what she might mean. He found her very
difficult to read sometimes, unlike he was accustomed to doing with patients
in sickbay.

"What do you need to speak to me about?" He put on his best detached face
and voice.

"I have a number of questions. It has come to my attention that human males
will engage in intercourse without emotional attachment, but upon further
study I find that most humans wait for love. How do I initiate love?"

Her question took him by surprise, but it was bound to come up eventually.
Not exactly the birds and the bees, he euphemized.

"One does not initiate love, Seven. It just happens. A friendship is
usually the basis for a relationship. The relationship becomes a
coexistence that involves..." he shook his head at his own analytical
thinking "you start to need the other person to be with you and when they
aren't there is a unique void. When you are together you aren't sure what
to do or what to say." He faded off into her eyes for a moment and then
quickly brought himself back. "Then the relationship becomes exclusive and
finally results in marriage."

"When is mating initiated?" She asked.

He paused. "In past traditions, humans waited until after the marriage to
have intercourse, but I'm sure you know that this is not always the case.
Most humans wait for love, and when they do love that other person, they
make love."

She had been watching him speak and almost lost the meaning of what he was
saying. Seven found herself wondering if the Doctor fit the description.
They had a friendship and one could say a close relationship.

"Have you experienced love, Doctor?" She rested her chin on her hand.

He wondered if he should tell her about Denara. Of course, for
instructional purposes.

"Yes, indeed I have. Before you joined us on Voyager." He proceeded to
tell her about Dr. Pel and the short time they'd had together. She listened
attentively and asked questions. He felt better telling someone about his
feelings something he hadn't been able to do in a long time. They talked
about other things and soon it was time to end their "date".

He walked her to her quarters. He didn't know if she wanted him to join her
to continue with their nightly regiment of relaxation exercises or leave.
She seemed not to notice his apprehension when she reached the door. By not
saying good-night and immediately entering, he felt confident she expected
him to stay. He walked in hesitantly.

Normally she would sleep in one of her suits, but tonight she was wearing a
dress. She proceeded to undo her dress in full view of the unsuspecting
doctor. He turned away and reminded himself that he was a gentlemen. He
spoke over his shoulder.

"Wouldn't you be more comfortable sleeping in different attire? I find that
most of the crew prefer to sleep in something...loose."

"I have researched the subject and I have acquired this sleepwear. It seems
sufficient."

The Doctor turned around, mentally chiding himself that he was a doctor and
shouldn't be effected by such things, to find her clad in a rose-colored
slip gown.

"Is it satisfactory?" she asked stepping closer to him.

"It's...lovely." he said not quite looking directly at her.

"I don't believe my exercises will be necessary tonight, Doctor. I am
relaxed. But I do wish for you to remain until I have fallen
asleep...please." she turned towards the bed but turned back. "Have you no
need for regeneration?"

"I require only a brief program refresh if that is what you are referring
to, but the need is minimal."

She nodded. "Thank you for a pleasant evening, Doctor." she said and leaned
in to kiss him on the cheek. Not expecting the kiss, he turned his head
slightly and her lips made brief contact with his. She drew back for a
brief second and kissed him again, this time on the lips. It was a chaste
kiss, but it still crackled with electricity. They broke the soft contact
and stared for a moment.

"Good-night," she said quietly and retreated to her bed. He sat upon the
chair beside her bed and watched her until her eyes moved beneath their
lids. All the while, he contemplated this recent turn of events.

***********************

Seven of Nine Personal Log (Supplemental)

The Doctor and I have resumed my social lessons regarding my personal
curiosity on the subject of mating. Subsequently, I have begun to form a
new opinion of an ideal mate. I have reevaluated the possible candidates
and have gotten similar results, no one seems to be suitable. Something is
missing.

Also, I have asked the Doctor to continue his visits to my quarters as an
aide in my sleep encounters. The need for relaxation exercises varies
inversely with the visits from the Doctor. He has said that humans often
have need for an object to bring comfort, he termed a security blanket.
Perhaps, I have need of such because of the young age at which I was
assimilated. But he is not an object, I have come to regard him as a
friend.

I am troubled. On the night of our reinstatement of my lessons he saw me
home and through certain events I kissed him. He did not respond or pull
away. I believe him to be oblivious to me. I cannot explain why this
troubles me, yet it does.

He insists on helping me decide upon a suitable mate. I am uneasy at his
doing so.

*********************************

The Doctor sat at his desk wondering what to do. Seven had kissed him but
he was sure it was just for experimentation. She was just curious. He had
been as well. He had so many conflicting thoughts he didn't know what to
think. He knew he didn't like it, the confusion not the kiss, because he
always knew one way or another. Right now he didn't know what to think.

Then the doors opened and Harry Kim was brought in limping on the shoulder
of Tom Paris.

"Doc?" Paris called out while placing Harry on a biobed.

"What happened here?" The Doctor asked knowing where these two were
involved it often meant a daring stunt that had backfired.

"He took a tumble while we were on the holodeck." Tom offered still not
saying exactly what they'd been doing.

"And?" The Doctor asked waiting for a plausible explanation, after all he'd
have to write up the report. Why was it that when Kim and Paris went into
the holodeck, one of them came out hurt and usually it was Ensign Kim? The
thrill of not using the program's safety features eluded him.

"I...fell off my surf board." Harry said, embarrassed.

"Surfing, the Earth sport of riding a wave on a flimsy piece of fiberglass?
I'm surprised I didn't see you both in here with lungs full of salt water."
The Doctor shook his head. "That still doesn't explain how you broke your
leg?" He said revealing his diagnosis.

"When I fell off the board slammed into me," he explained, "we've been
practicing with some pretty strong waves."

"I see. Well, you're going to have to be careful with your leg. When I mend
the bone it will still be brittle afterwards. No more dangerous
holoprograms. Mr. Paris, is that understood, it goes for you as well?" He
said looking at the other waterlogged surfer.

"Yes, crystal," he then added under his breath, "Mother."

Harry heard him and held back a snort. "Oh, man. Tom, did you end the
program?"

"Aww, it's still running. I'll be back." He said and turned on his heel
out to the corridor.

The Doctor shook his head. He liked Paris in spite of his brash and
careless nature, although he'd never admit it to himself.

"Doctor, have you ever done anything to impress a woman?" Harry asked after
a moment of silence.

"I suppose I have." He said not volunteering any concrete information.

"That's what all of this was about. I'm not just in it for the thrill of
danger. I hate surfing, I--" he was stopped by the Doctor's interruption.

"Mr. Kim, did the woman think you were more of a man for doing this? Or did
you look like an idiot and Mr. Paris looked like the hero?"

"I guess you're right. I'm just not all that great with women." He said
off-handed.

"Believe it or not, other people have problems with the opposite sex. Women
don't understand men and men certainly don't understand women. But sufficed
to say, killing yourself does not help." The Doctor said grimly as he
repaired the broken limb.

"That sounds like it comes from experience. Have you ever had problems with
a woman?" Harry turned a quizzical eye on the Doc.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I have." He looked at the door expecting Mr.
Paris to come back at any moment. At one time Paris gave him advice on this
very matter and if he knew he'd never let the matter rest. "What does it
mean if a woman kisses you and then acts like it never happened?"

"Uh-oh. Sounds like she was just playing you, Doc."

"Really, but what if this was a friend?" The Doctor said testing Harry's
reflexes after the setting.

"Well, I'm no expert with women but it could be she was scared."

"Of me? What is there to be afraid of?" He couldn't think why his
appearance or actions would frighten anyone, let alone Seven.

"Not you exactly, but more of what a real kiss could mean. In your case,
she could be afraid that a relationship wasn't possible. Did you kiss her
or did she kiss you?"

"She kissed me. First she meant to kiss me good-night and I turned my head,
but then she kissed me again. It was a fully conscious act." He was
enthralled with the prospect of finding a solution.

"There you go. She doesn't know if you feel anything for her. Do you?"

He thought a moment, of course he had feelings for Seven, but he was trying
to find her a mate. Could she really have feelings for him?

At that moment Paris came barreling in. "Sorry it took me so long. I ran
into B'Elana in the turbolift and I walked her to Engineering. What's going
on?"

The Doctor didn't want to pursue this any further. "Mr. Kim, you are ready
to go. Now if you will excuse me, I have some work to do." With that he
turned and went to the back of the sickbay.

Harry picked up on the vibe that the Doc didn't want to discuss his problem
in front of Tom and he respected that. Even when he told Tom his problems
they somehow got blabbed to at least one person. They left sickbay and
Harry was left wondering who it was that the Doc had a thing for. He had a
pretty good idea who.

*********************************

That night when the Doctor went to Seven's quarters he took special
precautions that he wasn't seen. The last thing he wanted was rumors flying
around the ship. He pushed the alert at her door.

"Come in." Seven called. She was certain it was the Doctor, no one else
visited her at this hour. She was wearing a blue silk nightgown with a
robe; she found it a great deal more comfortable than her daywear. She saw
him step in and felt a pleasant sensation that crept over her shoulders.

"Good evening, Seven. How are you?" He smiled at her warmly.

She replied, "I am well, thank you, Doctor". She felt his eyes linger on
her for a minute more than usual.

"Seven, you smiled." He said, surprised. It wasn't the usual smirk she
gave him.

"Yes, I believe I did. Is that odd?" She asked in earnest.

"No, but...it's just that I haven't seen you smile in some time. Smiling
suits you. It's quite lovely." He said with satisfaction.

It must have been his imagination (or a slight aberration in his program),
but he could swear he saw the faintest tinge of a blush in her cheeks.

"Thank you." Seven didn't know how to take his compliment. She wrung her
fingers behind her back and cast her eyes away from his. She didn't
completely understand the concept, but it gave her a pleasant feeling. She
turned and asked over her shoulder.

"Doctor, do you object to coming here every night?"

"Of course not. I am a physician and you are in need of my services.
Besides that, you are my friend and I would like to think of this as more of
a friend helping a friend."

That pleased her. She did not want the Doctor to feel obligated to her
since all they did presently was talk until she felt tired and he left after
she had fallen asleep. Even the nightmares had diminished greatly.

The Doctor still hadn't told her that he occasionally comforted her during
her nightmares. He was afraid she'd see it as an intrusion.

"I am grateful." She said looking to his eyes.

He held her gaze for a moment and then suggested she retire. She shrugged
off her robe and climbed into the bed. He sat down in his usual chair.

She proceeded to tell him about what she was working on and other trials of
the day. He loved to listen to her talk, it was seldom that anyone
discussed other things besides medical problems. As much as he lived for
medicine, as it was his program, he still tired of it sometimes. She gave
him a distraction and he was eternally grateful.

She asked him questions and listened to his answers. Seven also liked to
listen to him talk about patients and the life of a EMH. He gave her honest
answers and completely listened to hers. He told her he'd come to a
decision about something.

"I've decided on a name for myself. It has come to my attention that people
don't see me as a real person because they only see me as an authority
figure, a doctor. And so I have chosen a name to be used informally and I'd
like for you to be the first to use it."

He smiled proudly, but failed to mention the name.

"What name have you chosen?" She asked wondering what kind of name he would
want as an informal address.

"Daniel."

"Daniel. It has a nice sound. Will it be Doctor Daniel?" She inquired.

"No, no it's just to be used in place of the 'Doctor' when situation calls
for it."

"I see. Daniel." She let the corners of her mouth turn up slightly.

"I've been meaning to ask you, Seven. Will you be Seven of Nine all your
life or will you choose a new name? Not that Seven of Nine isn't a nice
name...I just wondered if you've ever thought about it." He worried that
he'd offended her.

"I have thought about it, Doc--Daniel," she corrected herself, "and I have
been Seven of Nine all my adult life, but true I am not Borg any longer.
Perhaps I will choose a new name someday."

"It took me this long to decide on a name to keep. It's a difficult
decision."

Her eyes drooped and she suppressed a yawn. He knew it was time she rested.
There was always tomorrow for them to continue their talk.

"You should sleep now."

"Yes, you're right. Good-night, Daniel."

"Good-night."

Seven pulled the covers over her. He watched as she began to drift off to
sleep. Not more than a few minutes passed and she was sleeping soundly. He
prepared to leave when he heard her whimpers. She began wrestling with the
blankets and he walked back over to her.

He watched, hopeful that her fears would work themselves out. Her cries
became more panicked and unrelenting. The Doctor went to her side. She
looked so small and helpless. Actual tears melted down her face as she
sobbed into her pillow. This one had come over her quickly eclipsing the
calm she'd gone to sleep with.

He reached out a hand and put it on her shoulder, whispering assurances.
When the tears kept coming he pulled her up gently into his arms, cradling
her in the crook of his elbow. He held her to him and lightly rocked. This
had worked many times before without her sleep ever being disturbed.

Unlike ever other time, her crying stopped abruptly to the point where he
thought she had woken, but she still lay there sound asleep. A small smile
graced her lips and her hands came up to cup his face. Panic swept over him
as she pulled his face to hers. He couldn't explain this if she woke up,
but when she kissed his lips all reason abandoned him. This was no chaste
kiss like before. He could feel her mouth and taste her flesh.

Her hands were stroking his neck and in his hair. His hands went along her
back and slipped through her hair. He felt like a wave had crashed over
him. He was caught up in the sea of her kiss. And like a wave the
realization that she was indeed still asleep and dreaming swept him back
into reality. He carefully broke the kiss and untangled himself from her
arms.

Feeling guilt like a yoke around his neck, he turned to leave. For a moment
he looked back at her sleeping peacefully, her hair cascading around her
face, and a smile gracing her lips. He made a silent promise to himself to
tell her how he felt. It was the only rational thing to do.

*******************************

The following morning the Doctor anxiously awaited the social lesson he had
planned for Seven. Time passed and she didn't arrive. He became more
anxious.

"Doctor to Seven of Nine." He waited for her to acknowledge, but she
didn't.

"Computer, locate Seven of Nine." Perhaps she was experiencing a
malfunction with her combadge.

"Seven of Nine is in her quarters."

He debated with himself for a moment and then activated his mobile emitter.
He took a fast pace out of sickbay. What could be the matter? A dozen
things went through his mind and were batted away, so he could just tell
himself nothing was wrong, and he was probably over-reacting.

He arrived at her quarters and rang the door signal. No answer. He put in
his access code and entered. The Doctor was going to call out, but he was
stopped when he saw her. She was face down in the middle of the floor.

He was quickly at her side and checked for a pulse. It was weak and she was
breathing unnaturally shallow. He slapped gently at her paled cheek but had
no luck at reviving her. She was still dressed in her nightclothes. Not
thinking it safe to move her, he called to the Transporter Room to beam them
to sickbay. Upon arriving he realized he needed assistance. He reached for
an instrument to try and revive her.

"Sickbay to Paris." He saw a hematoma emerging on her chin.

"Paris here." Tom had just sat down to breakfast in the mess hall with
Harry. Harry looked on curiously.

"I require your assistance in sickbay, this is an emergency." The Doctor
needed someone to fetch things while he tried to discover the problem.

"On my way," He shrugged his shoulders at Harry and left. He wondered what
the Doc needed him for; Seven had been helping him lately.

The Doctor placed her limp body under the scan and activated it. He reached
for his tricorder, the present she'd given to him some time ago.

When Tom arrived, he was getting the diagnosis from all of his instruments.
Tom looked and when he saw who the patient was he understood his place.

"What can I do, Doc?" He said with all seriousness in his tone.

"From what I've gathered here, her implants located in the cerebral cortex
have...malfunctioned. Her brain has shut itself down to try and repair the
situation. She's in a coma." The Doctor lingered on the last sentence as
he looked over at her.

"She'll be okay, right?" Tom asked cautiously.

"I have no way of knowing that until I can determine what caused the
malfunction in the first place. I'm afraid I called you for no reason, Mr.
Paris. All I can do right now is wait and keep an eye on her synaptic
responses." He was speaking to Tom, but all the while his eyes where on
Seven, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Are you sure there's nothing else I can do to help?" Tom knew that the Doc
was more worried than he let on.

"No, I need to give my report to the captain. So if you'll excuse me..."
He reached for a PADD and made it clear he no longer needed Paris's
presence.

"Okay, hey--let me know if you need me again."

"I'm sure I will have more to report later, Mr. Paris." The Doctor said his
back still turned.

Tom left to rejoin Harry, but before he was almost out the door he looked
back and saw the Doc at Seven's side holding her hand.