The command team sat on the couch in the captain's ready room. He was writing up duty rosters for the coming month and she read reports, sipping coffee. They worked in a companionable sort of silence until Chakotay's stomach gave a very audible growl.

"Hungry, commander?" Janeway asked him wryly over her teacup, not taking her eyes off her PADD.

"Can you blame me? It's already 1900 hours!"

Janeway checked the time and saw he was correct. "I could use a break," she admitted, setting down her empty cup.

"C'mon," Chakotay said, getting to his feet and offering the captain his hand. "I hear Neelix's latest creation is edible!" Janeway laughed at Chakotay's teasing of her ever-cheerful and slightly eccentric chef as they strode down the steps arm in arm. Unexpectedly, the door chimed.

"Enter," Janeway called, breaking away from Chakotay and hurriedly sitting behind her desk. She didn't want the crew to get the wrong idea about all the extra time she spent with her first officer; rumors were the last thing Janeway wanted (although in truth, it was a bit late for that).

Seven of Nine walked in looking thoroughly shaken, eyes wide and face pale. "Captain, I…something is wrong." Seven stared blankly at the floor.

"Seven, what is it?" Janeway rose from her chair, concerned. It took a lot for Seven to be anything other than perfectly composed.

"I feel most…unusual," Seven said at length. Janeway noticed that the statuesque ex-drone was wobbling a little; Chakotay caught her by the elbow just before she could topple over. "Seven!" Janeway rushed over to take her other arm, and together, she and Chakotay guided their off-balance young friend to the sofa, where she slowly sank into a stiff sitting position. Janeway sat down beside Seven and placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her. "Commander, I need a site to site transport for two to sickbay!" She ordered. Chakotay nodded and reached for his commbadge, but Seven blurted out, "No captain, it's not that." Seven grabbed Janeway's shoulder in an iron grip. "Then what is it, Seven?!" Janeway questioned, sharing a worried glance with the commander, who stood above the two, ready to call for help. "It's just…that…I" Seven's voice cracked with emotion. "I miss my collective!" She finished, bursting into tears and collapsing onto her captain's shoulder. They would have been less shocked if Janeway's desk suddenly professed its' undying love for her; the command team watched, astonished and slightly horrified as Seven sobbed. After a few seconds, Janeway placed a consoling hand on the young woman's shaking back. "Sickbay!" She urged.

The doctor was humming happily to himself as he worked the console in his office nestled inside sickbay. He was writing up a series of tutorials for Tom Paris (and anyone else he could rope into sickbay duty, for that matter) to study in his spare time. The hologram was cheerfully beginning a new paragraph on a ridiculously obscure and complicated procedure Paris would probably never have to perform when he heard the familiar zwoosh of the transporter.

The doctor rushed out to sickbay's main area to see a large shape of blue light materializing by biobed 1. After a few seconds, the doctor realized it was Seven of Nine being supported by the command duo, each of whom was holding her up by an elbow. Strands of shiny blonde hair were coming undone from Seven's normally meticulous, severe style, and her eyes were puffy and red. She stared blankly, her eyes unfocused.

"Seven! What happened?" He cried in horror as Chakotay helped Seven up to sit on the main biobed. The doctor had always had a soft spot for the beautiful ex-drone; perhaps it was because they were kindred spirits, both searching for humanity, or maybe it was the added compassion in his bedside manner parameters of his ever-growing program. Her killer figure didn't hurt either.

"She stumbled into my ready room and promptly started weeping into my shoulder-that's all I can tell you!" Janeway explained.

The doctor calmed, slightly ashamed at the panic that had risen when he had first seen Seven, unbalanced and shaky. He frowned; he wasn't supposed to react like that. He'd have to check his program later. After a moment, the doctor spoke.

"Believe it or not, Captain, I'd say this is a good sign. Seven, apparently, is finally coming to terms with the drastic traumas to her body and mind for years. In fact, I'm relieved she seems to be comprehending the severity of these changes! I think we're finally getting through to Annika, the little girl who was assimilated all those years ago. Maybe now, with some help, Seven will find her humanity," He finished. Janeway smiled, but it was bittersweet; it looked as though Seven would still have to feel pain to find pleasure. Although perhaps that's what being human is, Janeway mused.

"I hate to disagree, but I'm not so sure, Doctor," Chakotay interrupted their sentiment . While the captain and the medical hologram had been in discussion, Seven of Nine had slumped over, resting her head and hips on the bed, still clutching Chakotay's elbow and- giggling?

"Do not be concerned," she slurred, smiling up at her amazed shipmates. "My wellbeing is adequate. Adaptations are necessary for-for-*hic* individual survival and species evolution…

"In fact"-Seven sat up suddenly, her body swaying-"As my doctor and commanding officers, I bleeve*hic*believe you all to be integral parts of my necessary adaptations." Seven made eye contact with each of them as tears of emotion welled in her own eyes. "I have not mentioned it, but you are my collective. You're my collective!" She repeated with the air of having a great epiphany, grabbing Janeway's hand and gripping Chakotay's shoulder. "We are one!" she whispered happily, slumping forward.

Chakotay gently forced Seven back down on to the biobed, where she stayed this time, eyes closed and a goofy half-smile on her face.

Chakotay and Janeway stepped back as the doctor danced around sickbay, pressing buttons and grabbing instruments. The clamshell technology was just enveloping Seven's lithe figure when Tom Paris ambled in reading a PADD.

"I gotta tell you, Doc, you're killing me with these tutorials! What are the chances I'll need to know how to treat the bite of the Volthraki bloodworm?" He stopped when he spotted Voyager's command team concernedly watching the doctor. "Captain, commander," he said, curiosity evident in his voice. "Seven?!" Paris exclaimed, observing the familiar shoes protruding.

"Yes, Mister Paris," The medical hologram snapped as he waved a tricorder over Seven's form. "Now, make a log entry. 19:11 hundred hours; Seven of Nine comes in with-" He was interrupted by Seven, who had opened her eyes and turned to face Paris. "Designation Tom Paris, helmsman. You are also of my collective," she said with a watery sort of smile. Paris gaped; Seven was icy towards him on a good day.

"Mister Paris!" The doctor said impatiently, now typing away at the tricorder. "Uh, right-" Paris said, shaking his head as though he could shake Seven's strange words away. He stationed himself behind a monitor. "Shoot, Doc."

"19:12 hundred hours, Seven of Nine is beamed directly from the ready room to sickbay supported by Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay, appears off-balanced and weak; further symptoms include abnormal changes in her emotional state, bloodshot eyes, difficulty walking and slurred speech," the doctor paused to analyze the tricorder's results. "Furthermore, I'm detecting raised levels of cortisol and a slight decrease in immune and nervous system responses, possibly due to some sort of depressant," he concluded.

"So basically, she's-drunk?" Paris asked. The doctor searched the helmsman's earnest face, as though to check whether he was joking. Everyone's gaze fell to the patient. Seven turned her head and hiccupped, a spot of drool on the corner of her upturned lips.

"Rediscovering her humanity, huh?" Janeway asked dryly.

So whaddya think so far? More to come later. Don't forget to leave a review, please! Thanks:)