Chapter 3

Part 1

Janeway, though officially on a duty shift, was relaxing. At least, that was what she intended, however whenever she looked up from her book, every unwitting glance across the living room fell upon the unbelievably ugly sculptures which Seven-of-Nine had put proudly on display. The things seemed to take over the entire room, ones eyes drawn to them like moths to a candle flame. One of them, the 'representation of the frailty of human consciousness' even appeared to be watching the Captain, two holes between jagged shards of metal forming slits that glared at her, baleful and malicious.

"Why?" muttered Janeway to herself, forcing her gaze back down to her pleasant, non-menacing book. "Why would she even make those horrid things in the first place, let alone force them on me?" It was a moot question, for after inviting someone you love to share quarters you could hardly then tell them that their most precious artwork was not welcome. She sighed deeply, resigning herself to the notion that the metallic monstrosities were there to stay. Deciding on a hot bath, which was conveniently located in a wholly separate room to the sculptures, Janeway stood, for a moment convinced that she could smell rusted, burnt metal. Avoiding casting her eyes in the wrong direction, Janeway stood and hurried to her – their – bedroom, shutting the door behind her. In her haste, she forgot to lock the doors, left that way after Seven had departed earlier.

As the Captain was sinking into a steaming, bubbly bath, B'Elanna Torres sauntered up the corridor nearby, a broad smile widening her half-Klingon features. Approaching the Captain's quarters, the Chief Engineer was surprised when the doors slid open before she had a chance to request entry. Automatically, she stuck her head through the doorway, glancing around.

"Ah, hello? Captain? It's B'Elanna." There was no reply, and Torres turned to go, but something stopped her, a playfully wicked urge. 'Ok, just one little look,' thought the young woman, stepping carefully into the room. Hearing faint strains of music coming from the closed bedroom doors, Mahler maybe, or Wagner, Torres tiptoed around the corner and came face-to-face with Seven's infamous 'art'. Instantly a snort of laughter escaped her throat as she studied the hideous, mangled objects. Torres swallowed several times, strangling her laughter as best she could, but when a squeak escaped she instinctively clapped a hand to her mouth.

This stopped the noise, but the quick movement didn't take into account her proximity to the offending objects, and one of them toppled over with a clatter, one part detaching from the rest and falling to the floor. Gasping, this time with fright, Torres managed to retrieve the fallen piece and shove it roughly back into place, before she fled from the Captain's quarters, heart pounding in her chest.

Part 2

"So, Neelix, how about it? I'd have thought it was right up your street!" Tom Paris nudged the furry Talaxian in the arm and winked at his friend, Harry Kim, who was watching the interchange with amusement.

"Well, I don't know," huffed Neelix, moving away from the helmsman with a pointed glance. "I am quite busy tonight, cooking for the Captain and all. And, well – a party? Oh, no, I don't think so, Tom." He shook his head exaggeratedly, long, wispy whiskers floating wildly through the air.

Paris shrugged his shoulders with an expression of mildly disappointed regret. "Ah, I suppose we'll have to do it without you. Won't be the same, though, will it, Harry?"

Kim smiled as though he were in physical pain and tolerating it manfully. "It certainly won't. Neelix throws the best parties. But, if he's busy…Well, we'll just have to organise the naming celebration ourselves. C'mon, Tom, best get started on the cocktail menu."

"Cocktails?" Neelix asked, his whiskers twitching now and betraying his interest. Tom and Harry grinned at one another.

"Oh, yeah, cocktails, champagne, decorations, the works. It's not every day Voyager christens a new bar, Neelix!"

"Well, I suppose it isn't, now, is it? Alright gentlemen, you've convinced me. Leave everything to me and I promise it will be the best party this ship's ever seen!"

Clapping the excited Talaxian on the back and thanking him profusely, Paris and Kim made their way out of the mess hall, their objective achieved.

"Didn't even have to bribe him," grinned Harry as the two officers walked towards the nearest turbolift.

"Ah, Harry, he wanted to do it. He loves parties; it'll make him happy-"

"And we won't have to lift a finger," finished Kim triumphantly, and both men laughed loudly, congratulating themselves on a job well done.

Part 3

Stumbling out of her bedroom, wrapped only in a towel and dripping all over the carpet, Janeway was not amused. Thinking she had heard a noise, she had leapt out from the relaxing bath she was taking and hurried into the living room only to be met by empty air. The noise had sounded…clattery, like someone dropping a tool onto a hard surface, but as she studied the room it was evident that the floor was clear. It had had sort of a ring to it, the noise definitely…metallic, thought the Captain, and as the thought struck her she whirled around, almost losing the towel. Sitting there innocently on the shelves, like children who not seconds ago had been finger-painting the furniture, were the metal sculptures, and somehow Janeway just knew that it was one of them that had made the noise.

The Captain leaned forward, inexplicably reluctant yet determined not to be made to feel foolish in her own quarters. On the right, the 'conscious frailty' - or whatever the hell it was - appeared to have moved slightly, judging by the dirty marks on the shelf. Tentatively, Janeway reached out to pick it up, but with the slightest of contacts a piece of wickedly-sharp metal came loose, separating from the rest of the object.

"Fuck," she blurted, looking around guiltily even though she knew her quarters were empty, for it was rare that the proper, professional Captain resorted to such language. She was badly rattled, feeling suddenly dizzy and realising that she was hyperventilating. Backing away slowly, the towel-clad woman retreated to the bedroom – mainly to regain her dignity and also to contemplate the future of the evil artwork that had given her such a fright.

Part 4

Torres was still shaking slightly when she reached the safety of engineering and was glad to see her partner, Tom Paris, chatting with Harry Kim who was working at a subsidiary engineering console. The Klingon marched across to where the two men stood, then glared at Kim until, with a hasty nod, the Ensign left them alone.

"What's the matter, B'Elanna? You look like you've seen a ghost!" Tom grinned though, obviously not recognising the seriousness of his girlfriend's expression.

Placing her hand on a rail to steady herself, Torres spoke in a low, urgent tone. "I've done something really bad, Tom. God, I don't know what came over me."

Laughing, Paris punched her jokingly in the arm, still oblivious to the Chief Engineer's personal red alert. "You've always done something really bad, B'Elanna. It's your Klingon half, with that volatile temperament. Relax, it'll be fine."

"No, it won't be fine!" hissed Torres, grabbing Tom's wrist and squeezing so hard that pain shot up his arm, causing him to snatch the limb away, eyes wide with astonishment. "I snuck into the Captain's quarters, and-"

"You did WHAT?" exclaimed Paris incredulously, and several other crewmembers glanced their way. Noticing, the blond helmsman lowered his voice as he continued. "Why on Earth did you do that, B'Elanna? She'll bust you down to Ensign if she finds out!"

"She won't find out," Torres said hastily, with just a hint of a wobble, "but anyway, that's not the worst thing."

Paris regarded his partner incredulously, unable to believe his ears. He breathed deeply and shook his head as though trying to clear his mind. "Oh?" was all the reply he could manage, and he desperately wished at that moment that he could be anywhere else on the ship. Listening to the story made him feel like an accessory.

B'Elanna couldn't help smiling despite the scare she had received, for she could read Tom's face like a book. And, if you thought about it, the whole incident was quite amusing, she decided, beginning to laugh again. Something about the whole 'art' prank was so deliciously wicked. "I went in to have a look at some, ah, artwork, that Seven has moved into their quarters." The giggles were back, and Torres was struggling to finish her sentence, made even more difficult when she saw the uncomprehending confusion in Tom's expression. "Anyway, I…accidentally knocked one of them over, one of Seven's sculptures that is, and a bit broke off…" B'Elanna dissolved once again into fits of laughter, and for several minutes she was able to neither speak nor listen.

Waiting patiently, for no matter what he had to question his feisty girlfriend further, eventually Paris tried again. "So. You broke into the Captain's quarters-"

"I didn't break in; the doors were open."

"You entered the Captain's quarters without permission, touched a precious sculpture belonging to the Captain's partner and broke it? Then what?"

"Captain Janeway was in the bathroom – I could hear her music playing. So I put the piece back as best I could and ran like hell. What else could I do?" demanded Torres, eyes flashing as she dared Tom to answer. "Anyway, that was ten minutes ago, so I'm probably safe now – if she'd realised someone was there she'd have looked at the logs and seen that I was in there, and I'd probably be being demoted right now."

With a thoughtful expression, Paris pondered the predicament that his headstrong wife had created. An idea came to him. "B'Elanna, exactly how precious are these sculptures to Seven? Maybe you could talk to her, see if-"

"Of course!" exclaimed the engineer, slapping the side of a console with her hand, the noise causing Paris to jump. "Thank you, Tom."

"But – I didn't say anything" Paris was confused all over again. Torres patted his arm in a patronising manner, as though he had been the one with the urgent problem all along and she had been the one to solve it.

Looking around to ensure that she couldn't be overheard, she tapped her comm badge. "Torres to Seven-of-Nine."

"Seven here." The response was flat and without inflection.

"Ah, Seven, can you talk?"

"Evidently. I am doing so now."

Torres rolled her eyes, for though her friendship with the ex-Borg had come a long way, there was still much about the woman that was irritating to say the least. "No, I mean, are you alone?"

"Ensign Kim is present."

"Alright. You know the two artefacts that we discussed earlier?"

"Yes."

"One of them has suffered some unfortunate accidental damage. I hope that doesn't pose too much of a problem?"

There was silence for a number of seconds, and Torres was about to speak again when the reply came clearly over her comm badge.

"I mentioned earlier that this was a frequent occurrence during construction. Do not worry; it will not be difficult to repair the damage."

B'Elanna breathed a sigh of relief, for Seven's words carried an unmistakeable tinge of amusement. "I'm glad to hear it. Torres out."

Turning to her partner and smiling, the Chief Engineer met with a frown from her partner. Paris had listened to the conversation with a growing feeling that there was more to this than he thought.

"Want to tell me what that was all about?" asked Tom directly, and Torres grinned.

"I promise, I'll explain everything tonight."

Mollified, Paris left engineering to return to his station on the Bridge, whilst a relieved Torres vowed to never do anything quite so stupid again.

Part 5

Dressed once more in a crisp, clean uniform, her hair perfectly coiffed and boots gleaming, Janeway emerged from her bedroom feeling much more like a Starship Captain than she had the last time she had walked across her living room. With no hesitation she strode up to the shelves where Seven's sculptures sat and picked up the two parts of the broken object, studying the join carefully. It didn't appear to have been welded by conventional means, and the lines where metal had been melted were extremely thin and uniform in width and depth, as though sections had been carefully melted using a laser of some sort. But, she thought, lasers were very rarely used in engineering work now, having been superseded by more efficient, simpler tools. In fact, the only small lasers Janeway could think of that could be used in this way were medical laser scalpels.

Running with the idea, the Captain tapped her comm badge. Of course, it all made sense now. It was the Doctor who had encouraged Seven to explore artistic expression, and he probably watched her as she worked on her creative masterpieces. "Janeway to the Doctor."

"This is the Doctor. What can I do for you, Captain?"

"I need your help. I was just looking at one of Seven's sculptures when I accidentally broke it, and-"

"Sculptures, Captain? What sculptures?" The hologram sounded irritated, which was not unusual.

"Her metallic artwork. Anyway, I was wondering if you knew whether or not it was a laser scalpel she used to weld the pieces together."

"Captain, I really haven't the faintest idea what you are talking about. Seven has never done any sculpture of any kind, though I tried to persuade her that it would be worth trying. But she said it was a 'futile endeavour' and refused."

Janeway was speechless. Not quite understanding, she tried a different tack. "Doctor, have you ever seen Seven working on small pieces of varied metals, welding them together, using perhaps a laser scalpel, to make objects around twenty-five centimetres high?"

"No, and it really doesn't sound like something Seven would do, Captain, since the objects would serve no useful purpose."

"Thank you, Doctor."

Leaning back in her chair, fingers drumming on the arm, slowly a realisation dawned on Janeway that was so obvious she couldn't believe she had been fooled. Expecting to feel annoyance, she surprised herself when instead a huge grin cracked her handsome features, and the Captain began to laugh.