Disclaimers: See Chapter I.
Nature of the Beast Chapter VI
by Kerisempai
Voyager's chief engineer breathed deeply, willing her hearts to slow their rapid beating. The woman in her arms shifted slightly, and B'Elanna pulled her even closer. Soft butterfly kisses landed on the Klingon's temple. B'Elanna felt she could lay there forever despite the cold openness of the cargo bay, and the uncomfortable metal platform beneath them. She sighed, full of contentment, brain unwilling to question they why or what next of the situation.
Paris to Torres
B'Elanna growled in the direction of her uniform tunic, willing the pilot's voice to go away, and making no move to answer the hail.
I know you're in there B'Elanna Paris's voice came again, full of smug innocence. I wonder why the cargo bay doors are sealed?
When B'Elanna had decided to seek out Seven in the cargo bay, she hadn't had a plan, but the engineer liked to be prepared for all situations. Not knowing what would happen next, be it tears, punches, or kisses, B'Elanna sure as hell hadn't wanted any witnesses. She ordered the cargo bay doors to seal behind her before entering. Rightly so, it appeared.
B'Elanna reluctantly rolled away from Seven's warm body and reached for her combadge. Striking it rather harder than was necessary, she responded to the annoying helmrat.
What?
On the other side of the doors, Tom stifled a very unmanly giggle.
I was just wondering why you stood Harry and me up tonight? came the response.
"Shit," B'Elanna muttered. Um… sorry Tom, I had a really bad day, and just wanted to go home and… she trailed off, realizing that she was obviously not in her quarters now, and that Paris even more obviously knew her current location.
And Seven had a problem that you just had to attend to Tom didn't even try to stifle his sniggers this time.
B'Elanna closed her eyes, rage clouding her vision. He knew, that stupid flyboy knew she was in the cargo bay with Seven, knew that something had happened, and even without a shred of proof Tom had true grist for the rumor mill. The bastard was probably right on the other side of the door, waiting for her to come rushing out.
She turned around, feeling Seven's movement behind her. The blue eyes, that had been so full of passion and wonder a short while ago, were now uncertain and slightly frightened.
"Seven, I'm sorry. I should have known that Tom would start nosing around when I didn't show up," B'Elanna whispered, covering the combadge with her hand.
Tom, go home. I've had a long day, and if I have to kick your ass when I walk out of here I will, but really let's save both of us the trouble.
Knowing he'd probably pushed the Klingon as far as he could, and happy that he'd confirmed his suspicions, Tom decided to take B'Elanna's advice.
Sweet dreams them B'Elanna, a pause And good night Seven.
He chuckled the rest of the way back to his quarters, hardly able to wait until tomorrow when he could share his vindication with Harry.
B'Elanna heaved a large sigh, running hands through her tousled hair. She shifted closer to the former drone. She pulled the blond head into her lap, stroking silky strands with a gentle hand.
Seven closed her eyes, absorbing and luxuriating in the soft caress. She had expected the engineer's formidable temper, or another quick disappearance, anything but this. She smiled slightly, delighting in how once again the Lieutenant had defied logical action.
B'Elanna thought of the possible fall out of her actions. She knew that the entire ship would know of Tom's suspicions by lunch the next day. The thought didn't bother nearly as much as it should have. She looked down at the beautiful woman lying across her legs. The thought of not stroking this soft skin again, not kissing Seven's lips again was frankly unacceptable.
"Seven?" B'Elanna questioned.
"Yes Lieutenant?"
"Um, would you, um like to join me for dinner tomorrow?" The words sounded ridiculous to B'Elanna's ears, especially given their current positions and what had occurred. She had no idea if the former Borg had any interest in seeing her again. Seven might well be plotting how to eject her from the cargo bay before reporting her to the Captain. Her self doubt was quickly spiraling into full panic.
Seven sat up, wanting to see B'Elanna's face. The Lieutenant wanted to see her again? "You want me to accompany you to consume your evening meal?"
"I'm sorry Seven," B'Elanna made to get up. "It was a stupid idea, of course you don't after the way I've…" The engineer looked down at the mesh covered hand preventing her from rising.
"I accept."
B'Elanna looked into smiling blue eyes, feeling a reciprocal expression slide across her own features. "You accept?" The Klingon couldn't help herself, she closed the distance between them, giving Seven a quick kiss, surprising the blond.
"Okay then." B'Elanna wasn't quite sure what to do next. "I should maybe call it a night, let you get to, um regenerate." She rose, picking up the shredded biosuit from the floor, and headed over to the replicator. Several moments later the engineer returned with a fresh biosuit and leaned down, offering her hand to the still sitting ex-drone.
Seven had been unsure of the Lieutenant's intentions when she had strode to the replicator, and was touched by B'Elanna's actions. She took the offered hand, rising, smile once again gracing her features.
B'Elanna handed Seven the suit and leaned down to collect her own garments. Once dressed she helped the other woman, pressing a small kiss to Seven's shoulder as she zipped up the final inches of the material.
Seven allowed herself to be lead to the alcove by the amazingly courteous Klingon.
"Good night Seven," B'Elanna whispered, placing a chaste kiss on Seven's lips.
"Good night Lieutenant," Seven raised her arms, pulling the other woman in for another longer meeting of lips.
"B'Elanna," the engineer said. "Call me B'Elanna."
"Good night B'Elanna."
Voyager's Chief Engineer stepped back from Seven, walked to the console and initiated the former Borg's regeneration cycle. She watched the blue eyes close, and couldn't help the grin that tugged at her lips. She turned and walked from the cargo bay, a definite spring in her step.
To Be Continued.
