Chapter 5

Part 1

Kathryn Janeway and Seven-of-Nine were still entwined in an armchair when the door chime gave its customary beep. Inwardly the Captain groaned, for much as she wanted to eat a hot meal, she wished that the feeling of being so close to her lover could continue forever. Neither woman moved for several seconds, but when the sound came again, Seven stirred under Janeway, gently lifting the older woman clear and rising to her feet. The tall, blonde ex-Borg quickly crossed to the doors, and Janeway heard muted strains of conversation outside before her partner reappeared, bearing a huge tray of food.

Stretching lazily, Janeway glanced at the feast that Neelix had provided. "Couldn't he have sent it up via the replicators? Or the transporters?" she yawned, finally pushing herself upright and stumbling to the dining table where Seven had already placed the plates of food.

With a quick smile, Seven took her seat, Janeway doing likewise opposite her. The two women looked up simultaneously, their eyes meeting, and a thrill shot through the Captain as the ice-blue orbs stared into her own.

"Mr. Neelix wanted to wish us a pleasant evening, in person. I told him that 'the Captain and I appreciate his efforts' and that 'we will no doubt encounter him later on tonight, at the party'."

Taking a sip of wine, which became a slurp, the older woman grinned, her handsome face lighting up with emotion. "Thank you. I didn't know that you knew about the party, Seven?"

"Tom came to see me earlier in Astrometrics. He purported to be asking about the plasma manifold modifications, when in reality his intention was to inform me of the celebration. I believe that we should attend, Captain."

"Kathryn," said Janeway automatically, though it made little difference. She had said it so often that it was like a mantra, yet she could count on one hand the number of times the ex-Borg had called her 'Kathryn'. Though it had bothered her at first, somehow it seemed to matter less and less. The Captain continued, both women barely registering the pause. "I agree. You know, it'll be the first time we'll be seen together in public."

"Incorrect. Yesterday you and I had lunch together in the mess hall, as we have done on many occasions. We have regularly played Velocity together, and have had several conversations at various important functions."

"Yes," began the older woman, sighing just a little and starting to pick at the food that was in front of her, "but that's different. I meant it's the first time we'll be seen together as a couple, you know, together."

For a moment Seven appeared confused, but then her expression cleared, which the Captain took to mean that her partner understood the significance. Janeway turned her attention to the food, which was very tasty and extremely plentiful. The sausages were indeed delicious, though she noticed that Seven hadn't even put one on her plate and showed no intention of sampling the 'pork'. Wondering if her lover knew something she didn't, but deciding not to ask, Janeway tucked into her own sausage with undisguised relish. Chewing thoughtfully, the Captain looked across at Seven, who had stopped eating altogether and was regarding her with a curious look, pale blue eyes wide and bright.

"I am…unsure as to how one should act on such an occasion," admitted the young woman. "I do not wish to behave inappropriately in any way. Do you have any advice?"

There was a strangled choke across the table as Janeway tried not to laugh, not wanting to seem to be making light of her partner's anxiety. But compared to some of the inappropriate behaviour she had displayed in the past, the Captain thought that there was very little that would embarrass her at this stage, unless Seven took it into her head to start a brawl, or perform a striptease. Putting that idea quickly out of her head, she reached out her arm, taking the ex-Borg's mesh-covered fingers in her own.

"Just try to relax, and be yourself. Stick to light topics of conversation and smile. You'll be fine." Janeway squeezed the slender fingers reassuringly.

"Would it be inappropriate to display affection towards you?" asked the younger woman, frowning slightly and tightening her own grip on Janeway's hand. Both women had stopped eating now, their attention entirely focused on each other.

Somehow, Janeway felt that the conversation had suddenly turned in flavour, becoming more serious and perhaps one that would prove to be very important, and therefore the Captain weighed her words carefully before speaking. "No…" replied Janeway slowly, making sure her eyes met Seven's unwavering gaze and holding it. "No, it wouldn't be inappropriate, Seven. We are partners, and as such are allowed to show it. But there are, well, rules, if you like; things that are acceptable and things that aren't."

"Explain. I mean, please can you explain further, Captain," the Borg corrected with a trace of self-consciousness, and her partner smiled in return for the effort.

"Kathryn. We can hold hands, for instance, but not touch each other intimately," began Janeway, realising she had better be specific, for though the conversation may be awkward now, it would be a whole lot less embarrassing than if Seven decided to jump on her in front of the entire crew. "It's fine to put an arm around a partner's waist or shoulders, particularly when dancing-"

The younger woman's face brightened then, causing the Captain to pause, wondering what she had said to cause such a reaction. "Will we be dancing together?" asked Seven, with what was for her a noticeably excited tone.

"I expect so," shrugged Janeway. "Anyway, so those things would be fine. We can kiss, too, but only briefly and not too frequently. Again, especially whilst dancing, also when greeting each other or parting. We absolutely cannot discuss our personal life – our physical intimacy, I mean – nor should we spend the evening only with each other. That's particularly true for me, because as the Captain I'm expected to try and talk to everybody. Is all that clear, Seven?" Janeway squeezed her lover's hand again as she asked, feeling a bit like a strict schoolteacher lecturing her wayward pupil.

Seven-of-Nine nodded. "It is. I shall endeavour to follow these…rules."

As they resumed eating, after a few minutes Janeway became aware of the ex-Borg watching her once again, this time with a smile as Janeway gulped down the last bite of sausage, nodding with approval. "What?" she asked, wiping her chin with a napkin and leaning back in her chair.

"Mr. Neelix informed me that he had 'added a little something extra' to the sausages, which would 'spice them up a bit'. Were they enjoyable?"

The Captain's look shot daggers across the table as she prodded at a tiny morsel remaining on her plate with a fork, inspecting the innocuous-looking meat warily. "And you didn't think to tell me this before I ate three of the damn things? Look here, what do you think that is?" Janeway pushed the plate across, jabbing at a greenish speck.

"Do you wish me to run a molecular analysis, Captain?" asked Seven blandly, and this time Janeway's glance was apologetic as she meekly withdrew the plate and fork and pushed them aside.

"Sorry, Seven. It's just, after six years of Neelix's cooking, I've learned the hard way that a little suspicion is a good thing. They were lovely, actually, and not spicy at all. Oh well," she shrugged, putting it out of her mind, "we'd better go and get ready."

Together, Janeway and Seven loaded the crockery and cutlery into the replicator then made their way into the bedroom, hand-in-hand. As they shared a deep yet brief kiss, the older woman wished that they had more time, for a familiar feeling had awoken inside her. At that moment Janeway would have given her right arm to be able to climb into bed with her partner and make long, passionate love through the night. Seven, though, was having none of it, firmly steering Janeway around the bed and towards the wardrobe.

Part 2

The former observation lounge buzzed with conversation and laughter, and was a feast for the eyes. Bedecked in garlands, ribbons, flowers, tinsel and banners, the predominantly blue décor was overshadowed by the gaudy additions, representing every colour of the Starfleet rainbow, including the light green that the Captain had provided for Seven-of-Nine. Behind the bar, a fraught-looking Neelix scuttled to and fro, serving the crew with various colourful concoctions as well as more usual drinks. A buffet lay to one side, for the moment largely untouched, since the party was only just starting to liven up.

People stood in pairs or groups, chatting comfortably with their friends and colleagues who had now, after six long years in the Delta Quadrant, become more like family. The only people missing were those either currently on duty, or those who would relieve them shortly, including Tuvok who had agreed to take Chakotay's shift on the bridge. It was Chakotay's bar, his creation, one which had proved more popular than anyone imagined, and to have had an inaugural party without the First Officer present would have been unthinkable.

"Hey, Chakotay!"

The Commander looked around for the source of the greeting, and saw Tom Paris beckoning him over from across the room. He was standing with the Doctor, who sported a pink party hat, and Harry Kim, Paris's usual partner-in-crime. Wandering over, Chakotay snatched up several drinks from a passing crewman-turned-waiter, presenting them to the officers with a flourish.

"Well, gentlemen, you've excelled yourself this time. This is all fantastic." He was genuinely pleased at the effort, time and replicator rations that had been spent on the bar's official opening night, and it showed in his expression. Paris grinned back, raising his glass.

"You'll be giving the official opening speech later, I know," said Tom, "but how about a small toast for now? To Chakotay, and the best idea he's ever had…One Upward!"

"Hear, hear!"

"One Upward!"

Raising his glass with the others, Chakotay took an obliging sip, then frowned as the helmsman's words registered properly. "Wait a minute, Tom – I'm not giving the speech."

Paris and Kim exchanged glances, though the Chief Medical Officer was looking in a completely different direction, oblivious to the conversation going on around him. "Sure you are, Chakotay – it's your bar! Who else is gonna declare it open?"

Ten seconds of silence passed, as Chakotay raised a questioning eyebrow, waiting for the obvious answer to dawn on the Lieutenant. The moment never came, though, and he was forced to answer the question anyway.

"Captain Janeway, naturally. It's her ship, Tom. Excuse me." With those words, Chakotay strode away, with so much determination that one might have assumed he had a destination in mind. Paris watched the senior officer as he diverted to the bar, raising his hand holding an empty glass and tipping his head towards the furry little Talaxian, who hurried over to serve Voyager's First Officer.

"You know," Harry began, following his friend's gaze for a few seconds before turning back to face the taller man, "if this had been my idea, no way would anyone take it away from me, not even the Captain."

"Amen to that," drawled Paris, clinking classes noisily. The night had barely begun.

Part 3

Having waited in her living room for the best part of twenty minutes, Captain Janeway found herself tapping one foot impatiently, and quickly stopped, hoping it hadn't been heard. She had been ready for that length of time, having donned an impeccably smart, white tuxedo, with matching trousers, black shirt and a white bow tie. The handsome Captain carried the look well, exuding confidence and authority with a distinctive attractiveness that was all her own.

Though there was, in fact, no rush, for the party's official start was barely half an hour ago, she felt agitated. Trying to calm herself down, the sturdy woman crossed to the kitchen area, where she withdrew a dark-coloured bottle from the back of a cupboard. Reaching out to open another door, Janeway's slender fingers were on the verge of touching a fine, crystal glass, when she changed her mind, allowing it to close with a soft clunk. Without hesitating, the Captain pulled the stopper from the three-quarters-full bottle and took a deep swallow of the fiery liquid it contained. Having thought that the alcohol would quell the nervous churnings in her stomach, Janeway had also hoped that the effects of hot brandy would have overpowered the oddly intense sexual arousal that was increasing by the minute, spreading from her groin up her spine and outwards. Since the first draught had no effect, the Captain tried a second, then a third, but still the lustful feelings continued.

"If I have any more, I won't feel much at all," muttered Janeway to herself, shoving the bottle noisily back where it came from and wiping her lips on her sleeve.

"I beg your pardon?"

The Captain stood suddenly, banging her head hard against the kitchen surface top as she did so. "Ow, fu- I mean, Christ, that hurt!" Dazed from the impact, Janeway rubbed the back of her head with one hand, gingerly probing with her fingers and examining them for any sign of blood.

Instantly, her partner was at her side. "Are you injured?" demanded Seven, taking the older woman's arm and moving her closer to the light in the centre of the room. She peered carefully, parting Janeway's thick, reddish hair and causing the Captain to wince.

"I'll be fine, just a knock." Seeing the ex-Borg's concerned and disbelieving expression, Janeway mustered a convincing grin. "Really, Seven. Wow. You look…amazing."

Wearing a long, midnight-blue evening gown, with a green wispy scarf which was the same colour as the green of her uniform, tall heels above which showed a flash of ankle as she walked, Seven was, thought Janeway, the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Stepping forward, the older woman embraced her lover gently, kissing a pale cheek softly as a single tear coursed down her own face. As they hugged warmly, the stirrings of excitement within Janeway that had diminished with the unfortunate head-banging reared up once again with a ferocity that was startling, and the Captain jerked away suddenly.

"We – we'd better go," she stuttered, attempting to cover her odd behaviour. By the curious look in her lover's eyes, Janeway could tell that she had not succeeded, however she hadn't become a Starfleet Captain by being easily diverted from her missions. "I hope Tom and Harry have done a good job, for Chakotay's sake. You know that the bar was all his work?"

Resuming their usual chatter, the two women left their quarters arm-in-arm.

Part 4

As it was not an 'official' function, there was no announcement as the Captain entered, however such an announcement would have been entirely superfluous, for the mere appearance of Captain Janeway and Seven-of-Nine was enough to stun the guests into silence. Still with arms firmly linked, Janeway and her taller partner walked slowly down the narrow gap that formed as the crowd parted, the auburn-haired Captain feeling more than a little ridiculous. Somewhere at the back of the room, a solitary pair of hands began to clap, and as Janeway approached the bar it spread throughout the gathering, growing louder and accompanied by cheers and whistles. Realising that she had to do something, she held up one hand, and the noise died down instantly.

"Thank you," Janeway said sincerely, meeting the eyes of Chakotay and smiling warmly. "This isn't my speech-"

Nervous laughter rippled around the room at these words, and the Captain waited until there was silence once again. "What you see around you is all down to Commander Chakotay, and though I may be better dressed than he-"

Again there was laughter, with the First Officer joining in wholeheartedly. He wore his usual red and black uniform, having not even thought to wear civilian clothing.

"- it is he whom you should be thanking. Chakotay, you've done our crew proud. Thank you." Janeway held her second-in-command's gaze for a long moment before turning away with a final nod, surprised to find tears in her eyes. Brushing them away with her fingers, she shot a smile at Neelix, but as he made to hurry over, Janeway frowned, signalling that she would wait her turn. It wasn't necessary, though, for at that moment a beaming Tom Paris appeared before her.

"What can I get you, Captain?"

Janeway eyed him suspiciously. "Tending bar now, are we, Lieutenant?"

Paris adopted a hurt expression, which he couldn't keep up for very long. "Just helping out when it gets busy. We have a wonderful selection of cocktails, Captain – I recommend the 'Orange Sunset'."

Exchanging a glance with Seven, Janeway nodded slowly. "Alright, we'll give it a go. Two 'Orange Sunsets' please."

More than anything, the Captain wanted a good belt of a strong spirit; brandy preferably, or whisky, gin, anything. Just something that would douse her arousal that had grown so strong that she ached in places she never thought possible. When Seven's arm brushed her own, Janeway felt her knees weaken, and quickly led her partner to a table that was mercifully unoccupied. It was probably the best table in the bar, with a fantastic view into space in two directions, the table slightly separated from all the others which afforded some privacy to its occupants, and it occurred to the Captain that the table had been left vacant on purpose.

Across the crowded bar, Paris and Torres watched their Captain and her girlfriend as they settled at the Captain's table. It hadn't, in actual fact, been planned, yet somehow the crew had avoided sitting in the prime spot, so ingrained was their respect for their Captain who had given so much for them.

"They look good together, don't they?" remarked Paris, looking on as Janeway and Seven leaned close together, obviously talking in quiet voices, the older woman's hand resting on her partner's arm as she spoke.

"They're in love," replied Torres, suddenly feeling a flash of emotion for her own long-suffering partner and catching him by the hand. "I hope it all works out for them," she said wistfully, unable to pull her eyes away as she watched Janeway pull the ex-Borg closer and kiss her briefly on the lips.

With a broad grin, Paris held firmly onto the half-Klingon's fingers and, before she could protest, the boyish Lieutenant had pulled her into the middle of the wooden floor. With a hand signal from Tom, the music changed, and the couple initiated the first dance of the evening, joined by another couple, then another, and several more, until the dancers outnumbered the rest. Music played, drinks flowed, and Kathryn Janeway felt more aroused than ever before.