Chapter Four: Letting Loose

Willow was angry. Angry, hurt, frustrated, and more than a bit confused. Despite her considerable computer skills, the system that she was trying to hack was just too far outside of her experience. She had calmed down a bit since banishing Tom back to his quarters, and a glimpse of her reflection told her that she'd gone way too far.

She'd let her emotions get the better of her. Again. How long had she spent in England trying to learn control? And how long had she been afraid to use magic because of the potential to do wrong? What had changed to cause such a strong reaction in her?

A beautiful face with blonde hair came into Willow's mind, and she cursed herself for her idiocy. Seven of Nine was hot, there was no denying that. And there was the whole sympathy-for-the-victim thing that she was feeling as well. Seven had been assimilated twice now, as best as she could tell. Once by the Borg, and once by Voyager.Not that she thought that the people here had been wrong to take Seven from the Borg. The Borg were terrible, and rescuing one was generally of the good. But keeping Seven here against her will – hoping she would become more like the people here – Willow couldn't help but see that as Borg-like.

Okay, Rosenberg. You can't access the logs. Not unless you suck them out of the computer with magic, and that's something you shouldn't be doing right on the heels of a brainwashing.Willow winced at her own inner monologue, and she was grateful to see her reflection in the computer screen turn to one with red hair again. She needed to come clean about that. But would these people ever trust her? Would they lock her up? She'd be able to get out without a problem, but that would take some darker magicks, and that was not something she should be doing.

A chime of some sort sounded throughout the room. Willow got up and looked around for the source until it happened again. "Uh, Computer," she said hesitantly, "what was that sound?"

"The door chime to this room has been activated."

"Oh! Thank you. Uh, can you open the door, computer?"

The door slid open to reveal a grumpy-looking woman with forehead ridges that Willow remembered from the sickbay. "Uh, hi. Can I help you?" Willow said somewhat hesitantly.

"Maybe," the other woman said with quiet hostility. "I don't suppose you know who I am?"

"Uh, sorry! I remember you in sickbay earlier. You had on a different kinda uniform than you have on now, and you didn't believe Seven of Nine could be friendly. I didn't catch your name though, uh…" Willow looked at her collar and found an unusual rank insignia there. "Sorry. Tom tried to teach me the rank identifier thingies, but I don't recognize yours."

"So it's 'Tom,' is it? Not just 'Lieutenant Paris?'" she challenged.

"Oh," Willow said, realization dawning. "You must be B'Elanna. And you're probably here wondering where Tom's been."

"You can call me Lieutenant Torres, if it's all the same," the grumpy-looking woman said, inviting herself into Willow's room. Willow was relieved that she wasn't a vampire. "And yes, I was wondering what Tom had gotten himself into."

"Oh." Willow felt rather scared about confessing to this rather domineering woman, but she supposed that Lieutenant Torres of all people deserved to know first. But before that, "I'm sorry, Lieutenant. But, um, this may sound weird, but how do I tell what your rank thingy means? Are there other lieutenants without the two little pips?"

Torres laughed a mirthless laugh. "Just what's left of the Maquis. And don't sidestep the issue. What. Happened. Here?"

Willow felt herself back further into the room towards the bed, feeling distinctly afraid. A niggling little voice in the back of her mind told her that she could take control of this situation with a thought, but that was the last thing that Willow wanted to do after what she'd done to Tom.

"Well," she began, "Tom was taking me here and giving me a bit of a history lesson about Voyager's, uh, voyage, I guess. A-and, since he knows some stuff about my time, we were able to talk about some of that stuff. He helped make me feel a little more at home and a little less lost."

"How wonderful," Torres said, not sounding very happy at all. Her arms were crossed in a definitely hostile manner.

"B-but nothing inappropriate happened! Well, it did, but not what you're probably thinking. I don't know what you're thinking, but I think I know what you're thinking. A-and, I think you're thinking that we got all cozy together and such, but we didn't! See? Bed hasn't been touched yet."

"What about the floor?" Torres said, not missing a beat.

"The floor? Uh, we walked on it? But, that's not the bad stuff. And there is bad stuff, but it's all my fault. Tom did nothing wrong at all. I'm the one who messed up royally. And you probably deserve to know first, since Tom loves you, and I'm guessing you love him, and I don't want to mess things up between you two at all."

"Oh, you don't, do you?"

"I don't! I swear! It's just that he got to telling me about the whole 'let's make a deal with the Borg' thing, and that got me really pissed. I mean, who makes a deal with the Borg? And then that led to me finding out how you rescued Seven, which was all good and everything, but then I found that she was kept here against her will, and that kinda got me thinking that Captain Janeway was pulling a Borg on Seven, and that got me really angry, and I lost control." Willow plopped down on her bed, sitting up but slouched over, feeling distinctly ashamed.

"You hurt Tom?" Torres accused. "What. Did. You. Do?" she said, advancing on Willow with each step.

"Um…" Willow was torn between terror and shame. "Well, I was really angry, so I tried to, um, hack into the logs to find out the gaps in the story Tom told me. But I realized that he'd probably report me and get me in trouble, so I made him forget about it, and then I put him to sleep and sent him back to his quarters."

"You what?" Torres seemed partially angry, but also partially confused. "How could you possibly do that?"

"Magic?" Willow offered in what she hoped was a helpful voice. "And I shouldn't have, really! It was a stupid thing to do, and it was really bad, too. Tom's a really good person, and you're lucky to have him. A-and he thinks he's lucky to be with you, too. I just… I remember when the Borg appeared over Topa, and they told us what they were going to do. And when I stopped them the second time, I looked into the Collective's mind for a moment. It was just a moment, but it was enough to learn more than I ever wanted to learn. The thought of someone, anyone, allying themselves with such evil… I guess I went over the edge," Willow said in a small voice.

Torres stood where she was, towering over Rosenberg, with her arms crossed for maximum intimidation, but inwardly, the chief engineer was beginning to feel a lot of mixed emotions. Terror being chief among them. The stories that the Topara had told about this woman, her telekinesis back in sickbay, and Omega in her DNA all pointed to someone with way too much power. And now she had confessed to losing control and wiping Tom's memories while she tried to hack the ship's computers!

But besides all of that, Rosenberg resembled nothing so much as a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar at the moment. She clearly felt remorse. It could all be an act, and she might even be manipulating B'Elanna's thoughts to think this way. But B'Elanna didn't think that was the case, whatever that was worth.

And then there were her feelings regarding the Borg and Janeway's idiotic alliance with them. B'Elanna knew some people who thought that Species 8472 was the greater threat, but in hindsight, they had only been defending themselves against the Borg. It was so much easier to second guess things after they had happened. Still, B'Elanna hadn't liked the decision when it was made anymore than she had when the situation was over.

"You won't get any argument from me about the alliance with the Borg," she said after a good few moments of silent thought. "But it wasn't quite as simple as 'help the Borg to get ourselves home.' At least, it didn't seem that way at the time. Some people felt that Species 8472 would have come after the rest of the galaxy after they were done with the Borg."

Rosenberg looked up at that, and her eyes were wet with tears. "They were that powerful, huh?"

"They were," Torres said in her most professional voice. "We had a telepath on board who they communicated through. She's not with us anymore, but she thought that they meant to destroy everything. I honestly don't know if she could be trusted to make that call, but I don't believe Kes ever meant to deceive us. She was a sweet kid, but she was just a kid in the end. I don't know what decision I would have made, but then, I'm not the Captain."

Rosenberg nodded slowly, as if trying to take in this new information. Poor girl probably feels so lost. Still, she's powerful, and her story adds up with what happened with Tom. The computer can probably verify some of it.

"What about Seven?" Rosenberg asked softly, not looking up at B'Elanna. "Tom said that she wanted to go back to the Borg, but that Janeway wouldn't let her. A-and that this wasn't while she was still a drone, but after she'd been cut off from the Collective. Not that the Borg are good or anything, but isn't holding someone against their will kinda bad?"

Now B'Elanna dropped her arms to her sides and softened her facial muscles. She hated Seven, and she wasn't going to apologize for it. She wanted the Borg off the ship and away from her engine room. Somehow, despite Seven's own attempt to contact the Collective when she had first been rescued, B'Elanna had never thought about Seven's own feelings in that matter. That's assuming she has feelings.

"I'm not the right person to ask about that," she said neutrally. "You'd have to talk to Seven herself. Cargo Bay Two is just down the hall. The big double doors on your left." B'Elanna took a breath. "I am going to have to report what you did to Tom to the Captain, you know."

Rosenberg just nodded, seeming resigned to her fate. "D'you think that there's a science-y way to prevent this from happening again? I dunno, maybe medicine has come far enough that it can block out telepathy?"

"I don't know about that," B'Elanna said, "but I'll give you credit for offering that up. I'll have to tell the Captain what you did, but I'll also tell her how you feel about it. She may confine you to quarters, or she may throw you in the brig. We haven't left Topa's orbit yet, so she might just leave you behind." A thought struck Torres. "Assuming you let us leave without you."

"Topa is a beautiful world, and the Topara are beautiful people. I could make a life there if I had to. It's just that my power originally came from the Earth. As in the planet Earth. And while I don't need that connection anymore to do things, there's a part of me that feels empty and incomplete without it. But being here, surrounded by people and things from back home… It makes it all not as bad, y'know? Topa is lovely, but I think I'd be lonely, being the only human there."

"I have to say," B'Elanna said, "you're awfully willing to accept punishment considering how powerful you are."

"That's exactly why I have to accept whatever punishment I'm dealt!" Rosenberg protested loudly, rising to her feet for the first time since she'd sat down. "If I'm left unchecked, if I just do whatever the hell I want, then nobody would be safe. If I abuse my power, I'm more likely to do it again. I have to accept that there are consequences, and that everything comes to an end eventually. I've done some stupid, selfish things with my power that I thought were all for everyone's benefit. I need people to keep me in check, Lieutenant Torres. If I'm given total freedom with my powers, no one will be safe."

Tell me about it. You're made of Omega. That much of the stuff, you could end everything if something goes wrong."Don't take this the wrong way, Miss Rosenberg, but I'm going to ask Tuvok to assign you a security detail."

"Oh, yes please! That's good! I need looking after. I don't want to hurt anyone by accident. A-and I don't know if a security team could stop me if I got really out of control, but… Oh! Tell them that if my hair starts to darken, if it starts to go from red to black, then they should knock me out if they can. Hair goes black, that's bad. If it goes white, that's probably a really good thing, and knocking me out would be not-so-good."

"Your hair changes color?" Torres asked speculatively. "Wait! Don't tell me. Magic, right?" she said with a strange smirk.

"Uh, yeah?"

"I see. Just one last thing. Do I need to worry about you stealing Tom away? I don't think so, but… Why are you laughing?" Torres asked dangerously.

"Sorry!" Rosenberg said. "It's just that I'm not the type to steal Tom away from you. I'm, uh, the kind of person who'd want to steal you away from him, y'see?"

"Oh." Well, that was unexpected."Do I need to worry about you attempting to seduce me?" Torres asked with a smirk.

"I don't think so," Rosenberg said with a genuine smile. "You two seem like a good fit. Just look after Tom. He reminds me a bit of Xander. He was my best friend back home. Sort of the goofball who doesn't know when he's sticking his foot in his mouth. Heart of gold, but not always completely there in the head. But it's all in an endearing sort of way, y'know?"

B'Elanna laughed at that. "That sounds like Tom. If you want to move about the ship, just stay here until the security team arrives. They'll signal you when they arrive, and they'll follow you when you leave your quarters. I can't say you don't scare me, Rosenberg, but you're a far cry from Q."

"Q? You mean the guy who makes James Bond's gadgets?"

Torres opened her mouth to reply, but then thought better of it. "That's a long story that should wait for another day. Just take it as a complement that you're not quite as flashy as certain other powerful beings we've run into."

"Oh. Okay. And, uh, thanks for not beating me up, Lieutenant."

Torres made a display of crossing her arms again. "Just don't push it, okay?" she said in a not-quite hostile voice.

"Yeah! No pushing over here, no ma'am. Just waiting for the nice security people, and then maybe visiting Seven of Nine. I figure I should probably talk to her about everything she's gone through. I've been making some assumptions, and I should probably talk to the source if I want to get it all straight."

Sharp kid. Has a good mind. Wouldn't mind her on my team if she knew anything about engines."You do that. Just don't expect me to get all buddy-buddy with Seven anytime soon, and we'll be fine. And I think you should stay away from Tom for a while, too."

"Oh, yeah. Definitely. And, yeah. Sorry about what I did. I can undo it, if you like?"

"No, I think you've done enough for one day, Rosenberg. I know you mean well, but let's try to keep things as simple as possible, okay?"

The redhead nodded. "Okay. And, uh, thanks again for not beating me up."

Torres laughed. "One free pass. Don't expect another one." And it's not like I could hurt her if she didn't want to be hurt, anyway."I need to head to the bridge now. So, stay here for a bit, and then we'll see how things go."

"Gotcha," Rosenberg said more confidently. "Waiting right here."

Seven of Nine was making ready to regenerate for the next six hours. A few routine diagnostics of her alcove were necessary before she entered, but they would not take long. The regeneration would give her time to reflect on her feelings towards Willow. Seven felt drawn to her, there was no question of that. But she didn't know if it was a draw to Willow herself or to Omega, and Seven wasn't sure if that distinction even mattered. Was there even a distinction at all?

Her combadge chirped. "Uh, Willow Rosenberg calling Seven of Nine. Are you there, Seven?"

The ex-drone huffed, feeling slightly exasperated, but she could not deny the sudden warmth that had inexplicably shot through her body. She tapped her badge. "This is Seven of Nine."

"Uh, hey! I was just wondering if you were able to talk for a bit. Just you and me. I was hoping to get to know you better, and there are some questions that I think only you can answer. I would have come by the cargo bay, but I didn't think there would be a doorbell or anything, and I didn't want to just barge in without knocking."

"You called me because you didn't want to disturb me by entering without permission?" Nobody else had extended that courtesy towards her before. The warmth in Seven's body increased, and it felt good.

"Uh, yeah. So, do you mind if I come over?"

Seven thought about the matter. Was she ready to face Willow directly again so soon? Readiness is irrelevant, she thought with some surprise. I want to see her."I will await your arrival."

"Thanks! Uh, how do I hang up the phone?"

Seven sighed. She'd forgotten that Willow came from centuries in the past. "In the future, follow my lead. Seven of Nine out."

While she waited for Willow, Seven continued to run her diagnostics. She noticed that they were taking longer than usual, though there was nothing wrong with the computers that she could tell. I am distracted, she realized. My functions are impaired. Is Willow causing this?What really worried Seven was that even if she was becoming less efficient, she almost enjoyed it.

The sound of the cargo bay doors opening drew Seven's attention as she clasped her hands behind her back. She arched a brow as she noticed two armed security guards flanking Willow and taking up positions outside the doors as Willow entered.

"Is something wrong?" Seven asked.

"Huh? Oh! You mean the guards. Uh, kinda, yeah. I lost my temper and used my powers kinda inappropriately. And, well, it had to do with you."

"With me?" Seven asked, quite surprised. "Explain."

Willow took a step back and looked down. "Well, it's just that Tom told me about how you first came to be on the ship. And, uh, I got the general impression that you didn't want to be here, and that you wanted to go back to the Borg, but you weren't allowed to. Not that I like the Borg or anything, but it's the only thing you knew, right? So I guess I felt bad for you that you had your choice in the matter taken away, and I overreacted."

Seven felt her heart start to beat faster than it normally did. "You became agitated on my behalf?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, you're stuck here, living in a cargo bay. You have to wear that ridiculous outfit without even the strange rank thing that the Maquis people have. Still not sure what that's all about, to be honest. But you're a person, Seven, and from what I can tell, you're not really treated like one. And that makes me feel bad for you."

Willow's words touched Seven more than she wanted to admit. Captain Janeway had been trying to school her in the ways of humanity, as if trying to make her into a human person. Seven did not believe that this would ever occur, but Willow was here, accepting her as a person all the same. "Do you see me as human, Willow?"

"Uh, well…" Willow looked awkward. "I mean, you do talk kinda mechanically, which I guess is natural from spending a lifetime as a Borg. But you have your own mind and free will and such. So, I'd say you're kinda part-human, part-Borg. But not the bad parts of being a Borg. Like, you're not trying to assimilate everyone, are you? You're just trying to make do from what I can tell, and it'd be kinda stupid to ask you to forget what you were for most of your life."

Seven could only nod her head. Why couldn't the rest of the crew understand the truth that Willow was speaking so plainly? Why couldn't the Captain understand this about her? Janeway meant well, Seven knew. She was probably a good mentor with regards to humanity, but Seven wasn't sure if that was what she wanted for herself.

"So, um, do you want to go back to being a drone?" Willow asked softly.

Seven felt a warm hand close around her fingers, and she felt her own hand automatically close around Willow's. It felt natural somehow. "I don't know. I do not feel like I belong here on Voyager,but I would only belong as a Borg if I were a drone. I have come to value my individuality, but I do not see myself as becoming fully human."

Willow smiled and looked up at her. "The two aren't mutually exclusive. You're an individual right now, even if you're sort of a Borg/human hybrid. That's not a bad thing. It makes you unique. There's probably very few people like you out there in the universe, if there are any at all. That makes you special, Seven."

Seven felt heat fill her cheeks, and she felt a need to look away. Despite that feeling she didn't want to look away from Willow's eyes. "Thank you," she said at last. "I feel that you are special as well, Willow."

"You do?" the redhead said eagerly. "Um, what is it about me that you see as special? I mean, is it me, or is it, well, my power?"

Now Seven did look away, though her hand still held Willow's. "I am uncertain. I feel drawn to you, Willow, but I don't understand why. You are unlike anyone I have ever encountered, but I do not know if these feelings are because of your personality or because you are tied to Omega."

"What? What's Omega?"

Seven turned to face Willow again, and was surprised to see the confusion on her face. "It is somehow a part of you. The Borg believe it to be a symbol of perfection. Starfleet views it with fear. Voyager's sensors detected the molecule at the same moment you emerged from stasis on the surface of Topa."

"The Borg think it's… You mean Particle 010. That's inside of me?"

"Yes," Seven said, surprised that Willow was using the Borg name for the molecule. "You know what it is?"

"Yeah, I do. I mean, when I touched the Collective's mind briefly, I saw their obsession with that molecule. And I could tell that there was a whole lot of power in it. It was like infinity and one all at the same time. I thought it was beautiful."

"But the Borg did not detect the molecule during either of their attempts to assimilate the Topara," Seven said more to herself than to Willow. "Which means that it came into being inside of you after you drove off the Borg. Did you…" Seven felt herself pale. "Did you create Omega inside of yourself?"

"I… I don't know," Willow said. "I don't feel that much different than I did. But I've had about three years after I healed from that experience to get used to things. That's in the form of four days per year for a lot of time, but still, it adds up."

Willow smiled softly and lifted the hand not holding Seven's hand to the ex-drone's cheek. She felt a sudden heat in her loins. "And you're not sure if you like me or what's inside of me, Seven?"

"I… I admire you greatly, Willow. You have treated me like no one else has. Looking at you, I feel things. I do not understand it. This warmth. It is strange to me, but I enjoy it." She tried to look away from Willow's green eyes, but she found she couldn't. "I have not enjoyed very many things in my life."

Willow put a finger to Seven's lip and made a 'shh' sound before stroking her face with one hand. "Do you enjoy this, Seven?" Willow asked softly.

She did. Seven liked the touch of Willow's skin on hers more than she wanted to admit. She felt her body responding in ways she could not control, and that loss of control frightened her greatly. "I do enjoy it," she admitted, fearing what would happen if she lied to Willow.

"I enjoy it too," Willow said with a smile. "I don't know what your limits are, so tell me if you want me to stop, okay?"

Seven heard Willow, but she knew what her answer was. "Don't stop," she said softly, her eyes fluttering closed at Willow's gentle caresses.

"As you wish, Seven," she heard Willow say a moment before she felt a pair of lips touch her own.

Seven knew that she had lost control when she felt her own lips responding. She didn't know what she was doing, but it felt right. She wrapped her arms around Willow's body and held her close, her body acting of its own accord. She had never felt passion like this, but it felt so good.

In that moment, Seven knew that she belonged to Willow in a way that the Borg and Starfleet could never have her. As she felt pleasure course through her like nothing ever had, Seven found herself feeling a sense of contentment like never before. And still, she wanted more.

Seven could not stop herself. She did not want to. Resistance was futile.