Taken Chapter 7

Sheldon hated being fussed over but even more, he hated being pitied and that's how he perceived Seven of Nine's sudden declaration of a new collective. Sure, he'd mentioned a new collective but he had in mind the entire crew of the starship, not him specifically.

"Sheldon Cooper, focus. There are three Gorn unaccounted for. You have been separated from the away team and the Gorn are herding you in the wrong direction. Focus or die, Sheldon Cooper, for those are your only choices."

He almost tore off the headset in exasperation. He knew there were still 3 Gorn remaining. He'd written this particular scenario himself in homage to James T. Kirk's epic and stirring battle against the Gorn but he had not considered the annoying and distracting audio input from his…friend when planning his evasion. Having her always on his mind was troubling enough.

"Seven of Nine, your annoying chatter is distracting and impeding my termination of the remaining Gorn and rejoining my away team at the shuttle within acceptable time frames. Please cease and desist lest I mi – "

The blast of a Gorn disintegrator device struck him full in the chest. As he lay there on his back in the dirt he wondered if holographic dirt carried holographic microbes and if he might catch and then succumb to some holographic infection. He made a mental note to ask Leonard about it.

"Are you functional, Sheldon Cooper?" Seven wasn't gloating. No. Borg were incapable of gloating but even she noted a certain tone in her voice and her next sentence was infused with more 'caring'.

"Sheldon, speak to me. I know you're not dead since I reset the safety protocols again. Why do you insist on risking your life in training when the space around us abounds with life forms that will happily take your life if you encounter them unprepared?"

A voice behind her startled her and she wondered again if her efficiency quotient was diminishing as a result of her 'alliance' with this pre-War earthling.

"Perhaps that's why he's pushing himself, Seven of Nine, because he does know the price for being unprepared. Does he always push himself this hard? What are the safety protocols set at now, Seven?"

Chakotay had eased into the observation area, not wanting to disrupt the exercise but he couldn't help overhearing what Seven had said regarding the safety protocols and it was his duty as the ship's executive officer to monitor crew well-being.

"Yes, and it is unacceptable. He wants to 'fit in' and he thinks by becoming this…this…'soldier', that he can somehow gain acceptance. He does not feel he belongs."

"Well, from what I've observed, he definitely has qualified for away missions. How do you feel about that, Seven?"

He was like so many others on Voyager who watched the 'odd couple', surprised as they seemed to mold one another into valuable crew members and become a close unit unto themselves. Even Janeway was impressed – and amused.

"Computer, reset exercise from point at which Seven of Nine distracted me with her constant nagging." Sheldon stood up and stretched, feeling every bit of 500 years old.

"Perhaps, Dr. Cooper, you might consider taking a break and reviewing the recordings of the exercise. You might see something you missed…" 'and realize how stupid and stubborn you are being.'

Seven's concerns were real and she set those feelings aside for later analysis. Chakotay chuckled at the blonde's attempts to get Cooper to quit. He reminded him of Janeway in a sense: a perfectionist who held personal relationships at arms' length for both personal and professional reasons.

"Computer, execute reset." Sheldon bounded down between the rocks and reversed course suddenly and headed back towards the shuttlecraft and the rest of the away team. He hoped his sudden change of direction might throw off the remaining Gorn and he was, predictably, correct.

"Well, Seven, it would appear that Dr. Cooper does indeed know the price of victory. Carry on."

Sheldon invited Seven of Nine to have dinner in his quarters a few days after the holodeck exercise. He'd procured the ingredients for his special meal and had badgered Neelix into allowing him to use the kitchen facilities to prepare it for the couple.

He didn't think that Neelix would watch every step he took and then later attempt to duplicate the meal using native substitutes, but he did.

"So, Sheldon, this 'spaghetti', it is made from grain? How do you get it so long and rigid? And you make a liquid 'sauce' from tomatoes and various spices?"

"Yes, Neelix. My – my grandmother would make it and allow me to assist when I was a child. Later, I taught Penny how to make it and it became our special 'comfort' meal. Now, you boil and stir the sticks of spaghetti in water until they soften and can be cut easily with a fork against the side of the pot. Then you drain off the water and let the spaghetti sit in the strainer for a few seconds and then return it to the pot and then add the heated sauce. In deference to Seven's vegetarian preferences, I've omitted the small bits of meat, called hot dogs, from the mix."

"That's very considerate of you, Sheldon. Perhaps I might sample a small bowl? It looks like it would be a popular addition to our menus."

Neelix prepared a bowl for himself while Sheldon pulled the garlic bread from the oven device. He handed Neelix a fork and then laughed at the Tellaxian's efforts to get the spaghetti into his mouth and not all over the front of his uniform.

"Here. Take this spoon and twirl the fork of spaghetti against it and 'wind' the spaghetti around the fork. It's easier and not so messy."

One bite was all it took.

"Oh, Sheldon…this is wonderful. The sauce and the noodles and the garlic bread…a wonderful combination."

"Let's hope Seven likes it." Sheldon had never cooked for any woman before. He'd never cared to.

"Well, if she doesn't, call me and I'll take care of the leftovers. Do Not dispose of them. I shall take personal responsibility for their disposition." He meant he'd eat whatever remained but Sheldon wasn't as familiar with Telaxian expressions. He never thought that a fish could have facial expressions but Neelix showed him how wrong he could be.

Sheldon carried the self-warming tray back to his quarters and had the small table set up for two when his door chimed and Seven entered exactly on time, probably to the second.

"Hey, I hope you didn't come alone."

"I was unaware that I was supposed to bring a guest to our first dinner together, Sheldon. Do you require a chaperone?" That damned raised eyebrow again.

"I didn't finish. I hope you brought your appetite along. This should be perfect. Even Neelix likes it."

"Sheldon, Tallaxians are capable of ingesting anything. It's a survival trait of their species."

"Oh. Well, let's see if we're capable of ingesting what I prepared. It's called 'spaghetti' and I don't know if it's served on Voyager but it's a common meal on my Earth."

Seven had the same problem with spaghetti as did Neelix but she quickly mastered the 'twirl' thing and soon the only thing heard in Sheldon's small en suite was the clicking of silverware on china and the occasional sigh.

"This is pleasing, Sheldon. The combination of textures and colors is pleasing to the eye and the crunchiness of the garlic bread is a nice contradiction to the noodles and sauce."

"Um, how does it taste, Seven?" He was never quite sure about some of the comments Seven made. She had a sense of humor but it was wry and somewhat twisted.

"Taste is irrelevant, Sheldon, but it, too, is pleasing. All in all, a pleasing meal. Will we copulate afterwards or are you still so uncertain of your position in our collective?"

She jumped up and performed the Heimlich on Sheldon when his face grew red and he seemed to have trouble breathing. It wasn't really necessary. He wasn't choking, not exactly. He was embarrassed and surprised and had a mouthful of spaghetti and didn't want to gross Seven out by spewing noodles and sauce all over her white cat suit.

"Sev – cough - en!" He wheezed out her name and she handed him a glass of water. This seemed to happen each time she mentioned anything to do with 'copulation'. She made a mental note to research the possibilities of humans being allergic to a specific spoken word.

"Do you require the EMH and sickbay, Sheldon?" She was genuinely concerned. Their new collective was just that – new – and she was determined that they would mesh harmoniously and that seemed to include physical intimacy according to the databases and literature to which she had access.

She had asked Tom Paris for his recommendations for literature and he later gave her a list of 'recommended readings and videos' that he'd put together. Seven was naïve about some things and she had no idea just what she'd been reading. B'elanna Torres had had a hand in putting together the 'suggestions' and her dislike of the Borg colored her judgment and influenced her selections.

"B'elanna, some of that is…porn!" His girlfriend had often cajoled him into watching porn, not that he objected much.

"Tom, she's totally without any background about sex at all. These are just…teaching aids. Yeah, teaching aids."

"Sheldon, you have told me you have never been intimate with another human being and I have already told you that there were no human males on the Borg Cube ship I was assigned to. Are you hesitant because of 'performance issues'?"

She had read about ED and how it was often caused by performance anxiety. She made another mental note to mention it to the Doctor and get his input.

"Seven, you have become my dearest friend, but in my limited experience, moving from a nice meal to 'coitus' is a stretch, except perhaps for the Big Ol' Five. We hardly know each other and – "

"Why do you keep making reference to this Penny person, Sheldon, whenever we speak of almost anything that could possibly hint at intimacy? Are you in love with her? If so, I hope you realize that the woman you idolize is dust and has been for the past 500 years!"

Seven left Sheldon's quarters in a huff and walked quickly to the sickbay. She analyzed her reactions to Sheldon's comments and her comments and was thoroughly confused and at odds with any of her rational conclusions.

Had she had a normal childhood and a normal period of socialization she would have realized that what she was attempting to create in her collective was more akin to marriage than anything else.

"What should I do, Doctor? I'm so confused by his rejection." Seven was talking with Leonard, the EMH, who was proving to be as dim as she was about relationships.

She wiped tears off her cheeks and was suddenly afraid.

"Doctor, I am malfunctioning. Something is wrong. My vision is unclear and I appear to be leaking fluids from my ocular implant and natural eye. Help me!"

"Oh, Seven, dear…those are tears. They are a perfectly natural by-product of emotional frustration or sadness or heartbreak. You are not malfunctioning at all. In fact, this is a wonderful achievement for your budding humanity!"

"I do not want to feel this way. I do not want to leak fluids. I do not like emotions. Make them go away, Doctor! I cannot function like this. My efficiency is degrading and it's all his fault!" More tears and more sniveling and sniffling. She was miserable.

"Whose fault? Did someone hurt you?"

"Dr. Sheldon Cooper. He has 'feelings' for a – a dead woman – and he refuses to copulate even though we are a collective, One and Two of Two. He's says I'm his 'dearest friend' but that we hardly know one another…"

The Doctor smiled and wished Sheldon Cooper well. He knew others who would have taken Seven of Nine up on her offer and then cast her aside without regard for her feelings. Perhaps his initial forebodings about this new 'collective' were in error?

"He's being what is know as a gentleman, Seven. He knows that a couple should not rush into intimacy without being certain of their feelings. He probably 'drew the line' at kissing or even petting, am I not correct?"

"No, you are not correct. He 'drew the line' at touching of any sort. We have never kissed or held hands or…" More tears and sniffles. The Doctor handed her a tissue and patted her hair gently. This was new ground for him and he would have to review his unused program modules for something on 'relationship counseling'.

Sheldon avoided Astrometrics and Seven of Nine for the next week and concentrated on his training and on his lessons in flying a shuttlecraft. Using a device that 'taught' him while he slept, he was soon quite adept at all aspects of flying a shuttle.

Of course, that was all in the holodeck and despite its realism, Sheldon knew it was little more than a souped-up video game called 'Flight Simulator'. The real test would be later today when Tom Paris finished his shift on the bridge and took him out for a 'certification run' – in deep space.

"So, Sheldon, how are things going with Seven of Nine? I haven't seen you two in the mess hall or anyplace else for that matter. In fact, the only times I've seen Seven, she's been with Ensign Kim. They seemed to be getting pretty chummy."

"Seven of Nine is free to do as she will. This 'collective' nonsense was probably not something she intended to continue once I became more acclimated to Voyager."

Tom heard what he said, but it was the way he said it that piqued his interest. "Head in for an emergency landing, Sheldon. Assume that your lateral thrusters are malfunctioning and that impulse power is barely 10%. Let's see how you handle it."

Tom made adjustments to the shuttlecraft to replicate his scenario in real performance and waited until the most crucial moment before dropping his latest piece of Seven-related information. He wanted to see just how Sheldon Cooper handled stress.

"Shel, you know that Seven and Harry have reserved the holosuite for the K'taraan Moonrise scenario, don't you? You know what that means? Someone's gonna get lucky tonight…"

Even Sheldon knew about that scenario. Tom had told him how he'd finally gotten past B'elanna's defenses using the beauty of the scenario to weaken her resolve.

Sheldon's attention was riveted on maintaining his course, minimizing yaw and not becoming a smear on Voyager's hull. He heard Tom but quashed any reaction to it. He had to land the shuttle flawlessly to qualify as pilot on away missions.

"Perfect landing, Sheldon! Oh, I was just adding an element of distraction when I mentioned the holosuite. It's tomorrow night, not tonight." He smiled but then noticed the ice cold look on the Old Man's face and felt bad about mentioning it. That's the nickname he'd gained among the crew. The Old Man, because of his birth on Old Earth.

"Will you sign the log and certify me, Ensign Paris? It's regulations."

"My pleasure. You now have earned the right to be the ship's bus driver should the opportunity arise. Now, let's head for Sandrine's and I'll buy you a drink or four. It's the custom and tradition of the service, Dr. Cooper, when you get your wings, you get 'wet down'."

"I do not imbibe alcohol, Tom. I always make a fool of myself so I avoid it like church and taxes. Thanks but no thanks. I think I'll see if Neelix has mastered marinara sauce yet."

"Not a chance in hell, pal. It's tradition. All the crew will be there and you don't want to disappoint all those ladies when they hear how you've qualified for the highest flight levels, do ya? Only you and I out of all the crew are certified for highest levels, Shel. You should be proud of yourself."

"Tom…" He really didn't want to be around people right now. Instead of joy and satisfaction at achieving a designation only Tom Paris himself held, he felt…empty.

"Seven will be there. I told her you were taking the final test and she said she'd be there since 'custom required it'. Don't want to disappoint her, do you?"

"I require food and then rest. You go ahead and have a good time, Tom. You've been a patient instructor and I appreciate it. I'll see you later. I'm tired. Good night, Tom."