An hour later, walking somewhat unsteadily along the beach, they made their way to Seven's cottage. Janeway had felt protective of the younger woman and insisted on making sure Seven returned home without incident.

In the calm silence that was engulfed by Fero's rushing waves, Seven felt a sense of lightness that she hadn't experienced in months. She felt compelled to somehow put this feeling into words but hesitated, uncertain about how prudent her judgment was at the moment. She was intoxicated to some degree, but her mental functions remained mostly intact. The words came out slowly as she searched for the correct way to express her emotions.

"Admiral…I feel—I feel extremely…comfortable like this," she began, "and I do not understand why this is so."

The cold water at her feet had sobered Janeway; she was easily able to ponder the statement and respond carefully.

"Could it be that you needed someone to share your burdens with, Seven? Have you felt like there were people you could talk to about your problems?"

Pausing to consider, Seven was quiet for a few seconds. "Yes," she admitted at length, "but no one I have trusted as much as the crew on Voyager."

Janeway smiled ruefully at Seven, identifying instantly. "I understand," she simply replied.

Because she did. Before they'd landed safely on Earth, Seven had made a habit of dropping by the Captain's quarters to discuss philosophical questions, ethical matters, and personal problems. Janeway expected the responsibility to become annoying (the Doctor was in charge of these things, wasn't he?), but to her surprise, Seven had never felt like a burden. In fact, it was the opposite—despite her resulting lack of sleep, Janeway regularly looked forward to the nights that Seven stopped by. And coffee fixed the exhaustion.

Coffee fixed everything.

They made their way through the sand, calves burning slightly from the effort. The moonlight painted their bodies in shadows and shrouded their facial expressions. It was difficult to see along the beach. Seven, having had more to drink, accidentally stepped on Janeway's foot. She belatedly apologized, which the Admiral laughed off.

Chilled, Seven reached her cottage and fumbled in the darkness for the door. She shoved it open and held it for Janeway.

"Come in, Admiral, allow me to make you coffee for your journey home…"

Although pleased that the blonde had offered her favorite drink, Janeway moved to decline, citing the time. "I couldn't bother you, Seven, but thank you. It's late and I think it would be best if you rested."

"I cannot comply," Seven responded, her sense of humor reappearing briefly. But then she suddenly became serious, throwing Janeway off.

"Please, Admiral."

There was an ordinary please that people tossed around, and then there was the desperate kind. Janeway knew the latter when she heard it.

Against her better judgment, she stepped inside.

The air smelled of flowers and salt. Clean. Furniture had been methodically rearranged to give just the right amount of space. No dirty kitchen utensils littered the counter this time around. She couldn't help but notice the difference in the house after how she had seen it last time. And no one was breaking down.

Seven was no sooner walking in behind Janeway and moving to sit when the Admiral turned to face her and swung the hammer.

"Seven, what's happened between you and Chakotay?"

The younger woman averted her eyes much the same way she had the first time, when Janeway had asked why she was on Fero.

"This is difficult for me to…discuss, Admiral."

"I've noticed," Janeway replied dryly. She refused to give up so easily, though. "Seven, whatever it is, you can tell me. I listened on Voyager, and I don't want you to think that you can't come to me now because we're on Earth. I'm still here. You're not burdening me, I want to help you."

The alcohol's effects were wearing off as Seven struggled with herself. After a few seconds, she glanced up at the older woman, deciding to trust her. As she always ended up doing.

"I—we do not get along."

The Admiral was prepared to wait for the full story.

"At first, there was adventure. Excitement about the new relationship. We appeared to be compatible, to complement each other. We enjoyed ourselves," Seven listed, having analyzed the problem many times already. "However…it seems that now we have nothing in common. Our differences are causing frequent conflict instead of functioning as a conduit for greater understanding and intimacy."

Seven swallowed visibly and shifted. "That is not all."

Janeway's eyebrows rose in question as she crossed her arms and leaned back against the couch.

With a sigh, the younger woman delved further. "Chakotay has…changed."

Janeway's eyes narrowed, sensing that something was seriously amiss. "How do you mean?"

"I believe he is extremely unhappy. He consumes more alcohol than is advisable and avoids me when possible."

If Janeway had not known Seven better, she would've been highly skeptical about this story. Chakotay had been her first officer for seven years and she did not like to think that he'd neglect Seven—or anyone—this way.

But then, she'd been so busy with her own life that she admittedly did not know what Chakotay was up to anymore. The last she'd heard, he was applying for command positions aboard several outbound ships; it had seemed like he lacked direction. When Janeway had talked to him, she'd even gotten the impression that Chakotay was considering work in the private sector, outside of Starfleet.

She felt guilty now, wondering if maybe—had she been a better friend—some of this could have been avoided. Maybe he had needed advice. Maybe he had wanted to share his confusion with her.

He could have contacted me, she argued. Adults take responsibility for themselves and ask for help.

She focused on the moment again. "When did this start, Seven?"

"Soon after our wedding."

Janeway remembered. It was beautiful…held on Earth during the cool fall months in the northern hemisphere. There wasn't a hint of friction during the ceremony. They had danced, they had smiled, they had kissed. They had done everything that a normal couple does, and Janeway couldn't have been happier to see two close friends pairing off.

"Your wedding was magnificent, Seven. I'm sorry this has happened. Does Chakotay know how you feel?"

"I have attempted to talk to him several times…but he is always 'busy' with something and unwilling to discuss this issue," the ex-Borg explained, her voice sounding almost strangled. "I have not experienced—"

The Admiral realized with a start that Seven's eyes were glassy. She moved to comfort her, seating herself next to the ex-Borg on the couch as the tears fell and her voice cracked completely.

"I have not…experienced such intense loneliness before," she finished.

Her arm draped around the younger woman and her undeserved pain, Janeway felt her heart break for Seven. She was drowning despite her attempts to solve the problem in front of her. No one was there to support her, to connect with her, to guide her, to show her patience and kindness and genuine intimacy. The community she had formed aboard Voyager no longer existed the same way it had. No wonder she felt lonely; the closest person in her life had disappeared without explanation. For this Janeway felt a deep anger at Chakotay.

Obviously the man was suffering as well, with who knew what, but it was no excuse to make Seven suffer also. That was patently ignorant and compounded the problem.

He knows better.

"I know loneliness is a difficult emotion, Seven. I'm here with you…please let me know if there is anything you need," Janeway softly offered. She placed a hand on Seven's cheek and gently wiped the tears from her face.

She was about to take her hand away when the blonde reached up and kept it there. She looked up at the older woman.

The sadness in Seven's face burned through Janeway's chest.

"I miss this," Seven whispered, her blue eyes melting into Janeway's gray. She deliberately held the Admiral's gaze. Her hand remained pressed against the smaller one on her cheek.

Somehow, at this close distance, Janeway felt that she was falling; as though her world had slowly disintegrated underfoot. Or as if she had been stripped and thrown into blinding sunlight—exposed and wayward. But immersed in Seven's shade of blue.

The moment was so intense that for a second, Janeway thought—

Blinking the vision away, she broke eye contact and looked down, unsure of what had just happened.

"I apologize for taking so much of your time, Admiral," Seven finally spoke, interrupting the train wreck in Janeway's head. "I do not want to burden you with—"

"No," came the clear but slightly muted answer. "It's not a problem."

Seven was silent, letting the statement stand before speaking again. "It is late. If you would like to sleep here, you are welcome to. I am extremely grateful for your assistance."

Despite her inner unease, Janeway felt obligated to remain, and accepted the offer.

She did not look into Seven's eyes the rest of the night.