Death isn't that bad. Although Seven noticed for herself that the various religions are wrong when they say that there are a bunch of angels waiting for us when we leave our earthly dust pods. She saw no one and nothing but blind darkness. Her head also hurt, and when she reached for the pain, an impatient hand pushed it away.

"Wait a little longer" grumbled a familiar voice. "I'm good at healing wounds, but this nice big swelling needs time to heal."

Healing? It didn't sound like death either. Seven opened her eyes and realized she was still in the young doctor's cabin. If this is the other world... But no, it can't be.

"Am I alive?" she asked hesitantly.

"You are alive. Why not being alive? Just a bottle fell on your head, and it's true that it broke on you, but you don't die from that," growled Zimt.

"But this liquid… felt like blood. A lot of blood."

"The lubricant for my hoverboard," explained Zim, almost crying. "The bottle broke on your head and covered us both."

"I thought that liquid was blood."

Seven reached into the sticky material and rubbed her fingers together. Her sensors and internal data bank were working, and she was immediately identified the sticky liquid. Zimt was right. The liquid, covering them, was just a special lubricant. She also immediately understood the cause of the young woman's bad mood: Karthelian walnut oil was expensive and difficult to obtain, a luxury item. And now they both bathed in it.

"This oil is also used for skin care," she tried to put the young doctor in a better mood.

However, Zimt was not taken by her humor, she wept for her lost lubricant.

"I would have rather used it on my board," she grumbled grumpily.

Zimt gruffly but quietly chirped the dermal regenerator on the top of the Commander's head. Seven didn't dare to speak either, she felt the young woman's heightened emotions. Finally, she mustered up the courage.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," answered Zimt a little more gently. "I put the bottle in the wrong place. Well, I didn't even expect that crossing the PCB2 wormhole would be so difficult."

"I'm sorry," the Commander repeated once more.

"You do not need it! I told you it's not your fault."

"But I have most of your oil on me..."

"Well, at least you don't have to oil your Borg parts for a while," grinned Zimt. "Spread it on yourself, take advantage of it, if it's already spilled on you." Zimt pointed to the tiny bathroom.

Seven scrambled to her feet with Zimt's help, then closed the door on herself. As she undressed, she realized that the young doctor was right again: the oil turned out to be a very fine lubricant indeed. She used her tubules to absorb as much oil from herself and her clothes as she could handle. She filled her various tanks and then instructed the computer to take a quick shower.

"Sorry, I used your towel. My clothes are still oily, I will need another uniform."

Seven came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, wrapped in a bath towel.

"Feel free to use it," the doctor nodded, then walked past Seven so that she could take a shower and change her clothes.

"Wait a minute!" Seven asked her.

Less oil was spilled on Zim, but there was still plenty to save. Seven extended her tubules again and began to vacuum the oil off her. Zimt smiled as the probes played with her locks, tickling her neck, and was laughing openly as the Commander pumped the oil from the back of her neck. Seven looked at her questioningly.

"Do you like this?"

"I'm ticklish," explained the young woman. "And what you're doing is tickling."

"Does it feel good?" she asked as she worked out the meaning of the word.

"Yes, very good," the young doctor smiled at her. "But unfortunately I have to stop because there is no more oil on you. I mean, what I could use."

"What a pity. I liked it!" Zim grinned at her and, avoiding the Commander, entered the bathroom. After a few minutes, Zim called out from the bathroom to ask the Commander to give her her nightgown. Seven rummaged through the doc's bed but couldn't find the item. She opened the closet, but didn't find a nightgown there either, so she took out a robe. She found it to be a pretty feminine piece and presented it to her. Zimt replaced it with her own oily uniform.

"Please put them in the replicator. We'll ask for new clothes, the oil won't come out of them."

Seven obeyed silently. However, on the way to the replicator, Zimt's doorbell rang. The Commander dropped two loads of clothes to be dismantled on the floor and went to open the door.

Peter Beckett was shaked by the anger. Deanna Troi didn't have a hard time figuring that out. She didn't even have to use her betazoid ability to do that. He had been upset ever since he had spoken to Amelia Janeway. It was obvious even to the Counselor that the man was not in love with the Admiral's daughter, perhaps he never had been, but in Zimt's case she was no longer so sure of his feelings. Peter Beckett certainly found the young doctor attractive, but what he felt beyond that, Deanna wouldn't have categorized as love either. More to the offended vanity. She became absolutely sure of this when the man openly asked her if Zimt and the Borg commander were lovers.

"I don't know," she answered in shock.

"And what do you think?"

"I do not think anything..." "

But can it be assumed that these two are lovers?"

"Love is a strange thing," Deanna tried to dodge the question. "You can never really know what and why two people feel for each other."

"But they are very close!"

"Yes, their relationship is very intimate, but I wouldn't call it love."

"If not love, then what is it?" Peter asked impatiently, but with a cheerful face.

"More like a strong friendship."

"Just friendship, then?"

The Counselor tried to ignore the young man's satisfied grin, but failed.

"Their relationship is deeper than an average friendship," she poked at him a little.

She didn't do it right. The young doctor, facing a great future, was incredibly unstable emotionally, so even this small setback shook his self-confidence.

"But not to the level of lovers," Deanna tried to correct her mistake.

"Then do you think I have a chance with her?"

"I don't know, I said, that love..."

"But if you were standing next to her, could you tell me?" urged the young man.

"Yes" the Counselor sighed because she knew what was coming and she definitely hated this part of her job.