CODES: J/7, NC-17 for semi-graphic portrayal of lesbian sexual relationships.  WARNING: This story entails same gender loving relaltionships.  If that bothers you, don’t read it.

DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns the characters in this story, and I’m not making any money borrowing them.  No infringement of copyright is intended.

Note: Thanks to my beta readers, Dar Royer, P.D. Salerno, and Xena’s Bard.
 

Raising Naomi
 
 

Ensign Samantha Wildman lay on a biobed in Voyager's sickbay, unconscious, in a stasis field.  The doctor sighed, dreading the task ahead of him, surreptitiously checking Samantha's vital signs for the twelfth time in as many minutes.  Stable, but comatose, with almost no brain wave activity.

"Doctor to Janeway."

"Go ahead," Janeway acknowledged.

"Ensign Wildman is out of surgery, but her condition remains critical.  I need to discuss this with you at your earliest opportunity."

Janeway felt a sharp pang of nausea in the pit of her stomach.  "On my way, doctor.  Chakotay, you have the bridge," she said in clipped tones as she headed for the turbolift. Captain Kathryn Janeway was no stranger to a crisis aboard a starship, but this was different.

She tried to swallow her anxiety, but of all the crew members to be gravely injured on an away mission, it would have to be the only crew member with a child on board the ship, and with no spouse to assist in time of need.  If I had had any idea this ship would have ended up being a multi-generational vessel, I would never had taken the commission, she thought.  Kids are great, but not when you’re lost in the Delta quadrant.  Thank God Neelix will insist on stepping in to take care of Naomi if Samantha doesn’t make it. That thought gave her some measure of comfort, but not enough to relax the iron set to her jaw or the rigid planes of her face.

Sickbay was nearly overflowing with injured mission specialists, most being treated for puncture or blast wounds, and burns.  Ensign Wildman had been closest in proximity to the explosion and had sustained the brunt of the impact.  The Doctor had removed seven distinct fragments of duranium alloy from the woman's cerebral cortex.  The subsequent neuritis was so acute, he had been unable to replace the cranial segment that normally would cover the top of her head.  The bone segment was floating in a sterile solution, awaiting fusion to the undamaged portion of Wildman's skull.  The brain tissue visibly bulged out of the skull cavity, where, if the skull fragment had been replaced, the intracranial pressure would have caused subdural hemorrhaging and subsequent death.  As it was, the brain matter puffed out wetly, looking gelatinous and surreal.  Her face and hands were badly burned, as well.  She was also fighting the aftermath of a pneumothorax, caused by the blunt impact of the explosion, which had fractured her ribs, which had punctured her lungs.  The doctor hated trying to treat sucking chest wounds, let alone one accompanied by compound fractures, 3rd degree burns, and head trauma.  Samantha, in short, was a mess.

Janeway sat in the Doctor's office, fingers steepled together, digesting the medical assessment the doctor had just presented to her.  "So you are saying that Ensign Wildman might not regain consciousness--EVER?" the captain clarified, feeling outraged at the prospect.

The doctor nodded in confirmation.  "I'm sorry, Captain, but all the cortical stimulators in the world might not make a difference in a coma of this magnitude.  She is on the brink of being clinically brain dead.  All we can do is treat the swelling, hope for best, and wait this out."  He tapped his desk with his fingers.  “Even if she survives the head trauma, the burns make her susceptible to infection, and the punctured lung predisposes her to pneumonia.” He cleared his throat, though as a hologram he had no need to do so, then added softly, "We have to decide what to tell Naomi. And we must make arrangements for her supervision and care."

Naomi Wildman, age 5, though mature for her age, was hardly equipped to care for herself.  "I assumed Neelix would insist on moving into the Wildman's quarters to care for Naomi," she replied coolly.

"Absolutely not!" the doctor argued.  "Mr. Neelix is in shock--I've had to sedate him.  His obvious...feelings...for Samantha Wildman have left him in total emotional despair.  I can't, in good conscience, entrust him with the custodial care of a child," he said indignantly.

"Well, what about assigning a crew member to the task, let them move into the Wildman's quarters?"

The doctor regarded her with no small bit of irritation.  "Naomi cannot be expected to live in her quarters, with the constant reminder of her mother around her.  The emotional stress will be too fresh at this stage. And assigning someone to care for her is like forcing someone to work 24 hours a day."

Janeway grimaced.  She could hardly ask for volunteers, given the gravity of the responsibility involved in raising a child. She had never been the sort of leader who would ask her people to perform a task that she herself would not undertake.  Naomi would need the love and support of the entire Voyager crew,  but she would need a safe, stable living environment first and foremost.  Janeway tried to avoid the only logical conclusion, but she could not think of an alternative that wouldn’t be increasingly traumatic for the child. "Then Naomi will stay with me.  Maintenance should be able to add another room onto my quarters in a matter of hours.” Janeway ran a fragile hand over her auburn hair, wondering what she was getting herself into. “Alright, doctor, get Naomi in here.  No point in putting off breaking the bad news to her."

Naomi Wildman came into sickbay, looking apprehensive.  She had never been summoned there unless she had forgotten an appointment or needed a booster shot.  The Doctor beckoned to her, and she entered the office.  Janeway and the doctor did their best to explain the situation to the frightened Ktarian-Human hybrid, whose brow ridges pulled tightly together as she contemplated the repercussions of her mother's condition. Naomi took the news with a sigh of resignation, eyes wide with fear, and although she tried to put up a brave front in the face of her Captain, she couldn't stop the tears from sliding down her freckled cheeks.  Janeway patted the girl's shoulders, wishing for all the world she could make things right for Naomi.

“Can I see her?” Naomi asked in a near whisper.  Janeway looked at the doctor, silently thinking it was a bad idea considering Samantha’s horrific appearance.

“Not just yet,” the doctor smoothly replied.  “I, ah, would like to do some additional treatments, and then you can visit-maybe this evening?”

Naomi looked up at the Captain, her facial expression speaking of feeling totally lost.  "What if Mommy never wakes up?" she asked meekly.

"Then you will have a home with me," Janeway assured her.

"You--you won't make me leave Voyager?" her voice was even smaller this time.

"Of course not," Janeway insisted. "Voyager is your home." Janeway hugged her then, dismayed that the child would think she might simply be discarded from the crew.

Seven-of-Nine, ex-Borg drone, ordinarily the model of composure and efficiency, burst through the doors of sickbay, her usual steely demeanor replaced by a wild eyed terror.  Naomi turned and saw the strapping woman enter and launched herself out of the chair and over to Seven.

In one fluid motion, Seven scooped the child into her arms, into a firm embrace.  "Naomi Wildman," she said softly, "I came as soon as I heard about the accident."

Naomi broke down then, sobbing, clinging to her best friend, her arms wrapped around the Borg's neck, her legs around the Borg's waist.  "Oh Seven," she wailed, "I'm so scared!"

Kathryn Janeway brushed absently at the mist welling in her eyes as she watched the interaction of the damaged little girl in the protective embrace of her Borg colleague, a woman who was usually described by the crew as an Ice Princess.  Janeway's heart ached at the sound of the Borg's murmured words, the soothing reassurances half whispered to the beloved child.

"It will be alright Naomi Wildman," Seven promised her.  "Are we not family to each other?"  Naomi remembered asking if Seven thought of her as family, and Seven had said “yes.”  Naomi nodded her head, her eyes still wide and fearful. "And as family, do we not take care of each other?" Seven asked, her eyes communicating tender reassurance.  Naomi nodded wordlessly.  "Then do not be afraid.  Trust me. We will get through this together."  Naomi rested her head on Seven's shoulder, sniffing intermittently.

Then in a very small voice, thinking the Captain couldn't hear, she asked "Seven, can I stay with you?"

The Borg quirked an eyebrow.  "Cargo Bay 2 is not an appropriate habitat for you, Naomi Wildman," Seven stated matter-of-factly.  She peered over Naomi's shoulder at the Captain, as if to say "Now what do I do?"

Janeway left the office, sidling up to the Borg.  "Naomi," she said softly, laying her hand on the girl's back, "I thought you were going to stay with me."

With remarkable aplomb, the child replied "Your offer is very generous, Captain, and I do not mean to hurt your feelings, but I would rather stay with Seven."

"But I have no quarters, no ensuite, no bed.  Not even an extra Borg regeneration alcove," Seven explained, gently teasing. Her eyes, normally ice blue, were the shade of deep sky as she cuddled her friend.

Naomi’s façade began to crumble.  “But-I need you, Seven.  Please don’t say no.”

Janeway frowned, considering the situation.  Then her eyebrows shot up, and a smile spread across her face.   “Naomi, may I speak to Seven in private for a moment?” She requested kindly.  Naomi reluctantly nodded, and Seven deposited the girl on the floor with supreme care.

Janeway pulled Seven aside, and in barely audible tones, said “I don’t want to put you in an awkward position, Seven, and I don’t want to imply that you are obligated in any way to agree to this,” she paused, letting the ramifications hit her before continuing.  "Neelix is not fit for duty right now.  The Doctor thinks Naomi is too vulnerable to go back to the quarters she shared with her mother.  I have decided to be Naomi’s foster mother, for the time being. If you want to help Naomi, I can have maintenance add two rooms to my quarters, instead of just one.  Then Naomi will have her own space, you will have a proper place to live, but won’t have to give up the Cargo Bay, and both you and I can care for Naomi.  It would most certainly help her make this transition, and I suspect that she may put up a fight unless you’re included in the arrangements. What do you think?"

Seven smiled brilliantly.  "I believe you are correct-Naomi Wildman is quite stubborn at times, and she is so upset, her ability to reason may give way to tantrums.  I also do not wish to cause her additional distress.  At least I am a familiar companion to her, and will provide some measure of comfort. I suspect that she is a bit intimidated at the prospect of living with you,” Seven revealed. “After all, you are a rather formidable presence, Captain.”

Janeway narrowed her eyebrows, a sly grin on her face.  “Are you saying I scare small children?”

 Seven’s lips quirked at the corners.  “Your seasoned officers have joked that when you are in a mood, one look from you makes them wonder if they should ‘shit, run, or go blind’, Captain,” she reported dryly.  Janeway smiled in satisfaction, as if to say that was the proper response to her considerable temper.

“Your plan is acceptable, as long as it is acceptable to Naomi Wildman,"  Seven agreed.

Seven and the Captain returned to the sickbay.  Seven picked up the child again, and recited the plan.  “Well, Naomi Wildman? Is the arrangement sufficient?”

Naomi bounced in Seven's arms enthusiastically.  "Acceptable," she imitated the drone's speech pattern.

"Excellent," Janeway stated.  "I'll put in the work order right away.  Meanwhile, Seven, I relieve you of your duties for the day so that you can keep Naomi company," she smiled sympathetically at the girl.   "Here is the access code to my quarters.  Feel free to avail yourself of their use from now on."  Janeway handed her a padd with the information.

Seven smiled with a grateful expression, her face gentled by the affection she felt for her commanding officer.  "Thank you, Captain.  It is a very generous offer."
 
 

God, what was I thinking? Janeway paced the length of her ready room, her stomach acidic and complaining.  I have no contextual frame of reference for raising a child, and I've never lived with anyone as an adult--not since the Academy.  She absently pressed her hand firmly against her sternum, trying to subdue the roiling nausea.  She ordered the replicator to produce a cup of hot chocolate, hoping it would settle the queasiness.  Oh well, at least I won't be able to grouse about being lonely anymore, she mused.  But I don't deal well with disruption, and my efficacy as Captain is tenuous, at best, even with a set routine.  How am I going to pull this off?

She sighed and slumped down behind her desk, dismayed at the stack of PADDs awaiting her attention.  The door chime sounded, and she was pleased for the diversion.  "Come!" she called.

Commander Chakotay entered, yet another PADD in his hands.  "Captain," he greeted her formally, "duty roster changes," he extended the PADD to her.  "In light of Ensign Wildman's leave of absence.  I thought you might want to see the adjusted schedule."

Janeway smiled, motioning him to sit down.  "Thank you, Commander.  Can I offer you something to drink?"

"Sure, I'll have what you're having," he agreed affably.  He accepted the hot chocolate, mildly surprised that the Captain had abandoned her rampant caffeine addiction for the time being.  He peered at her face, noted the worry lines around her eyes and the grim set of her lips.  "Kathryn," he said kindly, "would you like to talk about it?"

Janeway chuckled, amused that she could never seem to hide anything from her first officer.  She sipped her drink.  "You really do know me, don't you?"

"As well as anyone, I imagine," he replied.  "If I had to guess, I would say you are fretting over the situation with Ensign Wildman--and with Naomi."  Then more gently, "Have you decided to put her in Neelix' care?"

Janeway shook her head.  She lowered her voice.  "Neelix is--incapable for now.  You'd better adjust that in your duty roster, too.  The doctor had to sedate him."

Chakotay made a regretful sound in the back of his throat.  "Poor Neelix.  He loves Samantha so much, I can't imagine how he must feel.  So if he can't take care of Naomi--what's going to happen to her?"

Janeway smirked from behind her china cup.  "Just call me Mommy," she quipped.

Chakotay's forehead crinkled in disbelief.  "You're kidding me," he accused.

Janeway shrugged.  "Nope.  It's not the sort of thing I could expect crewmen to volunteer for, so I took it upon myself.  Miss Wildman, however, had different ideas."

"She wanted to stay with Neelix?"

"No.  She wanted to stay with Seven of Nine."

Chakotay almost choked.  "Now I know you're teasing me," he said.

"No, really," Janeway set her cup down and started to pace again.  "You should have been there, Chakotay.  You could have knocked me over with a feather.  Seven rushed into the sickbay, Naomi flung herself at Seven, and Seven promptly set Naomi's fears to rest.  It was amazing.  All those cold layers of Borg technology and logic just dissolved into this nurturing, gentle, incredibly maternal woman--it was a transformation of major proportions."   Janeway positively glowed with pride and affection for the woman she had severed from the Borg collective.

Chakotay grinned facetiously.  "Sort of like the transformation of major proportions in your facial expression whenever we discuss our resident Borg," he teased.

Janeway turned abruptly, crossing her arms, and fixing the Commander with a glare and a vocal inflection reminiscent of the often aloof Borg. "Explain."

Chakotay bit his lip, wondering at the wisdom of needling the Captain about her obvious infatuation with Seven of Nine.  "I just meant, your f-feelings for Seven are evident," he stammered.

Janeway frowned.  "Just what feelings do you supposedly see?"

"Oh Kathryn,"  Chakotay gave in, with a ' what the hell' kind of sigh.  "You don't have to hide behind the command walls with me--we are beyond that.  You know how I feel about you--how I've felt for years.  And I know the look on your face when you see Seven, or talk about her.  It's the same look I get when I'm with you," he admitted quietly.  He looked up, reaching for her arm.  "It's okay, I know you don't reciprocate my feelings, I've accepted that," he said to preempt the apology that rose to her lips.  "But you do obviously feel that way about Seven," he tried not to sound bitter.  Then more compassionately, he added "Have you told her?"

Kathryn grimaced.  "Absolutely not," she bit the words off angrily.  "You know I can't."

He pulled her back over to her chair.  "Kathryn, we are decades from home.  I fully expect Tom and B'Elanna will get married, and they're both officers.  You have condoned my relationships with crewmembers in the past.  Why relax protocol for everyone but yourself?"

"Honestly?" she asked.  "First, because I was trying to avoid having this conversation with you," she sounded terribly sad.  "I never meant to hurt you, Chakotay.  I hope I didn't lead you on in any way."

"You didn't.  I have had no illusions about our--relationship," he stumbled over the delicate words. "And if I had known you were trying to--protect me, I would have had this conversation with you long ago."  He reached across the desk, taking her hand.  "I want you to be happy.  Isn't that what it truly means to love someone--to put their needs first?"

Kathryn swallowed hard.  Chakotay had offered her everything, and she had turned him away.  She felt tears stinging her eyes.  "I wish I could return your feelings," she admitted.  "I am very sorry that I can't.  I would be very lucky to have you."

He smiled.  "Maybe.  But if there's no chemistry, then there's no use in trying to invent it.  Now, what were your other reasons for denying yourself a partner?" he steered her back to the topic at hand.

"God, you're relentless," she accused, squeezing his hand.  "Okay, second--the crew.  You know as well as I do that command authority comes largely from the perceptions of the crew--if their perception of me changes, my command authority could be undermined."

Chakotay hid his amusement behind his cup.  "You think the crew perceives you as some sort of deity?"

"Hardly," Janeway snorted derisively.

"Well then, if not a deity,  you must be human.  Humans have needs--companionship, family, love--the crew knows you are human.  You seem to equate 'human' with 'weak'.  I contend they are not the same.  And if they were the same, why would you want Seven to embrace becoming weak?"

Janeway scowled playfully at him.  "You are too clever for your own good, commander.  I can see I'm going to lose this argument.  But you're still not over hurdle number three."

"Which is?" he asked, eyes twinkling with satisfaction at his success so far.

"Seven.  She may not feel the same.  And she and Naomi are both moving in with me.  If I say anything now, and she doesn't return my love, it would be extremely awkward sharing living quarters.  Naomi needs stability, not a soap opera, and Seven is an integral part of Naomi's fragile world right now."

"Hmmm, you may have me there," he conceded the point. "But I suspect, sharing such close confines, you won't be able to hide it from Seven.  She is nothing, if not perceptive, and her bluntness would compel her to confront you the minute she senses something out of the ordinary," he tried not to laugh at her consternation.

"Well, maybe I can't hide it, but I don't have to admit anything.  Seven is my friend.  That's my story, and I'm stickin' to it," she drawled.   "But thanks for your wise counsel."

"I'll keep you in mind when I offer my prayers to my ancestors--maybe they can lend a helping hand.  After all, they were certainly masters of 'the hunt', although I think your hunt has a slightly different objective," he smiled broadly.

Janeway picked up a large metal sculpture from her desk.  "Get out of my office," she threatened, laughing at him.
 
 

When the Captain entered her quarters at lunch, she discovered Seven of Nine, stretched out on the couch on her back, Naomi sleeping in a fetal position on top of the Borg, while Seven stroked the child's strawberry blond hair and sang a barely audible lullaby.  Janeway felt a lump forming in her throat at the sweet tableau.

"Seven," she whispered, "you have a lovely voice."  Seven only smiled faintly, continuing her serenade, wrapping the consoling melody around her small friend.

Janeway felt the sting of what she suspected was either envy or regret watching the beautiful Borg cradling the distraught girl.  Whether it was because it made Kathryn Janeway miss her own mother or because she wished she could lie in the arms of another human being, she wasn’t sure.

She smiled approvingly at her astrometrics officer.  "I'll make us some lunch," she whispered, heading for the replicator.  Surprising, she mused, that the "Ice Princess" could be so tender, and how deeply Naomi trusted the unemotional Borg with her grief and fear.  Janeway was gratified to see that her instincts about Seven had been correct: she was capable of being fully human, perhaps even more so than her fully human counterparts.  Janeway felt the stirrings of pride for her Borg friend, knowing that the mere acceptance of her own humanity had been a difficult lesson, one that Seven continued to learn every minute of every day.

She keyed instructions into the food replicator, calling up what had been her favorite meal when she was Naomi's age: cheeseburgers, french fries, and chocolate malteds.  She carefully set the table, not wanting to awaken Naomi just yet. Finally she approached the couch, kneeling beside her roommates.

"Lunch is ready," she said in rich, warm half-volume tones. Naomi shifted sleepily atop her six-foot, perfectly proportioned mattress. Both the Captain and the Borg chuckled at the sound of Naomi's stomach growling with hunger. "And not a moment too soon," Janeway added wryly.
 
 

Maintenance quickly completed the renovation of the Captain's quarters, as the components, including the walls, were modular and easily configured.  The structure was done by that first night, and the only thing left was to furnish the new rooms. Janeway sent a requisition to central stores for carpet, beds, a desk for Naomi, and a workstation for Seven.

When Kathryn came home that evening, Seven greeted her with a dazzling smile. Janeway sniffed at the air hungrily.  "What is that I smell?" she asked, drawing near the kitchen.

"Dinner," Seven replied easily.  "Go get ready.  Naomi will be here soon.  She is visiting her mother."

Janeway nodded.  "I'll just take a quick shower and change," she agreed.

Naomi returned from sickbay promptly, but her mood was decidedly subdued.  Seeing her mother with exposed brain matter had not helped her appetite.  And all those life support tubes!  She shuddered.  Her mother, ironically, looked more like a Borg than a human, with her hair all shaved off and all the machines attached to her body. Naomi was so quiet, Seven didn't realize she had arrived. Naomi curled up on the couch, laying her head on the arm, worrying, and finally, crying.  Janeway entered the living room, startled to find the girl upset again.  "What, sweetie?"  she said, kneeling beside the couch.

Naomi hiccoughed sadly.  "Mommy looks really bad," she confessed.  "You can see her brain poking out of the top of her head."

Janeway stroked the girl's cheek.  "I know it seems pretty hopeless right now, but as soon as the swelling subsides, the doctor will close the wounds. Then she will look more...normal."

Naomi mustered a faint smile for the Captain.  “I don’t mean to be such a baby, Captain.”

“Oh, Naomi,” Kathryn hugged her, “you aren’t being a baby.  You have good reason to feel sad.  Our feelings make us human, after all.”

Seven arched an eyebrow at the Captain, as if the remark were intended for her.  Janeway winked at her.  "Dinner is served,” Seven announced.

Janeway was truly impressed by the meticulous table setting, the steaming rice pilaf, stir fried vegetables, and roast chicken.  Seven had even found the good china and replicated candles to light the dining area.  She took a large bite, hesitating over the taste. "This is delicious, Seven," Janeway complimented her.

"Thank you, Captain," she blushed profusely.

Janeway held up a hand.  "Please, behind these doors I am just plain Kathryn."

"In that case, thank you, just plain Kathryn," Seven corrected herself, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Naomi giggled at the name.  "I guess we'll have to call you JPK for short," she teased.

Janeway saluted the two with a glass of milk, not her usual choice of beverage, but accepted since it was appropriate for a sprouting five-year-old.  "You two are incorrigible."

"In--corr--gi, incorri--incorbiblige," Naomi faltered over the word.  "what's that mean?"

"It means your dinner is getting cold, Naomi Wildman, and I will not be pleased if you fail to ingest sufficient nutrients." Seven of Nine made her tone severe.

Naomi obediently took several bites of her rice.  "I don't think that's really what it means," she noted.
 

Janeway borrowed sleeping bags from Chakotay and B'Elanna, and made an impromptu camp site on the living room floor, since Seven and Naomi had no beds yet. Both of the former Maquis officers had expressed a good deal of concern for the child, and for Samantha, and both offered their unequivocal support to the Captain should she need assistance raising a child.

Naomi was surprised when Janeway brought out her own sleeping bag, intending to join the slumber party.  Seven merely quirked an eyebrow at her Captain, watching the proceedings with interest.  She had never heard of camping, or of an organization the Captain referred to as "scouts".  Naomi was so enchanted by the idea of camping out that she immediately made the two grownups agree that they would take her on a holodeck camping trip the minute they could secure a reservation.  However, despite the novelty of camping in the living room, the day had been emotionally draining for the young girl, and she was sound asleep within an hour of finishing dinner. Seven tucked the sleeping bag up around Naomi's chin, absently dropping a kiss on her forehead, unaware of the sensitive blue gray eyes watching her every move.

Janeway touched the Borg's mesh-encased hand, drawing her attention. "You are amazing with her," she complimented.

Seven knitted her brows, tilting her head slightly.  "Explain," she demanded.

"Considering you don't remember your mother," Janeway elaborated, "your maternal instincts are keen.  Naomi loves you dearly, Seven."

Seven's face relaxed, a warmth washing over her.  "And I love her," she confirmed.  "Naomi Wildman is a remarkable individual."  Then more forcefully, "I hope Samantha recovers.  Naomi was visibly upset when she came home tonight."

"Yes, she was.  This is the sort of thing that tries the soul of an adult, let alone a five year old.  Naomi is very strong, though.  Neelix had to be sedated, he was so torn up over it, but Naomi is already--adapting," Janeway smirked as she used the Borg vernacular.  "I am going to have some wine--would you care for some?"

"That would be acceptable.  Thank you."

They sat in companionable silence, sharing a carafe of wine, each silently contemplating the other.  While they had been good friends and Velocity partners for quite some time, their relationship was still defined in terms of very tight parameters.  After all, Captain and crew could not easily make the transition from the chain of command to the egalitarian comfort of friendship.  For her part, Seven was feeling a bit overwhelmed at the possible enormity of what they had blithely undertaken.  Co-parenting and cohabitating were two things Seven never expected to do, let alone with a superior officer.  But as fiercely private as Seven knew Kathryn Janeway to be, she was appreciative of the willingness of the Captain to relinquish that privacy to make a place for a helpless child.  Seven figured if the Captain could make such a magnanimous sacrifice, then Seven of Nine, former tertiary adjunct to unimatrix zero-one, could adapt to living with the Captain.

"Captain," she finally said.  Janeway glowered at her.  "I apologize.  Kathryn," she corrected, "what you have done here, for Naomi--and for me--it is quite extraordinary," Seven struggled for the perfect word.  "But then, I should not be surprised considering all the kindness you have shown me since I joined your collective.  You have been exceptionally patient with me, and very helpful, Kathryn.  I am grateful."

"No need to be, Seven.  My effort in that respect was minimal compared to the jackpot I hit in you."

Seven looked alarmed.  "You have never hit me, Kathryn.  And what  is a jackpot?"

Janeway laughed lightly.  "It's a human expression--to hit the jackpot means to take a chance and to have it pay off handsomely.  It means my efforts with you have been richly rewarded."

"How?" Seven was incredulous.

"You really don't know?" Janeway asked sincerely, drinking in the sight of the fair haired, full lipped, breathtaking Borg.  Seven shook her head.  Janeway bit her lip, mulled over the response she wanted to give, as opposed to the response she should give.

"As Captain, my personal prime directive is to integrate the diverse elements of the crew into a cohesive unit, while helping each individual to fulfill their potential as professionals and as people.  When we found you," she grinned fondly, "there were so many gaps in the crew's abilities, and we were constantly having to make do with what we had.  You filled a lot of empty spaces aboard Voyager.  In astrometrics, of course, but also in tactical planning, operations, and security, with your multi-species knowledge.  And having a former Borg drone in my crew has given all of us a renewed perspective--it's easy to feel self-pity about our situation, but knowing everything you went through, our situation seems like a walk in the park."  Janeway laid a hand on Seven's shoulder.  "And I personally benefit from having an excellent officer and a true friend."

Seven's cheeks flushed at the praise.  "Thank you.  I am pleased to know you consider me a friend," she admitted, averting her eyes.

"I do," Janeway responded. "And I don't say that lightly.  Friendship is a rare and precious gift, Seven, especially for a crusty, old captain who has to second guess every action for propriety, weed out ulterior motives, and remain objective.  It is not easy to offer friendship to someone in command.  I have to keep a certain...distance," she finished wistfully.

"I believe I understand.  Command can be an isolating experience."

"Yes," she said ruefully, "not unlike being a former Borg drone on a ship of failed human beings, wouldn't you say?"

"Precisely," Seven agreed.  "I suspect, Kathryn, that you and I have a good deal more in common than either of us realizes."

"Probably so," Kathryn raised her wine glass in agreement.  "But there is one big difference between us.  I chose command and the isolation that comes with it.  You had your choices snatched from you when you were barely older than Naomi."

Seven's features showed the sad longing she felt.  "If only I had had someone to protect me from being assimilated...but then, you came along, and saved me," she added, the thought cheering her.

Janeway snorted bitterly.  "Yes, about eighteen years too late," she muttered.

Seven touched the older woman's hand, mentally noting the pliant surface of her skin.  "I believe the correct response is 'better late than never'."

Janeway blanched. "Not good enough," she berated herself for her perceived failure.

Seven swallowed hard at that.  "Kathryn," she intoned reproachfully, "you gave me my life.  How could that be inadequate, when it is everything?"

Janeway finished her wine in a large gulp.  Not quite everything, she thought darkly.
 
 

Progressively less conscious of the disruption of their customary lives, the three women fell into a comfortable rhythm of cohabitation. Naomi made daily trips to check on her mother, but seemed to adjust to the circumstances fairly quickly, other than an occasional nightmare.

Janeway unexpectedly became the beneficiary of Seven's efforts to provide a home for Naomi.  She awakened to a good breakfast every day, came home to a wholesome dinner each night, and enjoyed the luxury of a living space that was always clean, neat, and well organized.  Seven had a way of putting little touches to everything, and Janeway found that most, if not all, were very pleasant.  For the first time since leaving Indiana, Kathryn felt like she had a true home.

Having adult companionship was a delightful consequence of the whole arrangement.
Seven and Kathryn spent most nights talking until they were exhausted, planning for Naomi's future, her education, and often discussing ship's business.  Kathryn valued Seven's thoughtful counsel, and heeded it frequently.  They spent hours planning for the 'what ifs'--what if Samantha died, what if she fully recovered, what if they found a wormhole tomorrow and were suddenly home.

And for the first time in her life, Kathryn Janeway allowed someone to see behind the commander, past the walls and straight into her vulnerability.  It was not easy to trust, but Naomi and Seven would look at her with such wide open acceptance and love, she found herself being less protective of her privacy and her intimacy.  Except for her romantic feelings for Seven. She was almost accustomed to suppressing her reactions to the curvaceous, beautiful Borg and rarely gave any telltale sign of her attraction.

At first, the proximity of Seven made Janeway’s sleep abortive at best, but after several sleepless nights, the exhaustion allowed her to cease the mental calisthenics that plagued her.  After a few weeks, she was able to look at Seven without staring, speak with her without her own heartbeat pounding in her ears, and relax around her.  She still couldn’t manage to touch her, however, without a sharp increase in body temperature and a delicious tingling sensation.  She resolved to work on that aspect.
 
 

Naomi visited Samantha after school every day, which meant that she frequently came home depressed or troubled.  The doctor had been able to close Samantha’s skull cavity, finally, but it did little to comfort the frightened child.  Seven had tried repeatedly to get Naomi to talk about what she was feeling, to exorcise the source of the haunted expression she wore, but Naomi was guarding something, withholding it from her foster parents.

Kathryn came home from her duty shift and, as usual, followed the aroma of good food to the kitchen.  Seven smiled as she entered.  “I am glad you have arrived,” she greeted the auburn haired, porcelain skinned woman.  “I need your opinion on this,” she said, scooping up a small amount of sauce with a wooden spoon, feeding it to the Captain.  “It needs something, does it not?”

Kathryn shook her head.  “No, it is scrumptious as is,” she assured the budding gourmet.

Seven smiled her gratitude.  “Kathryn, I have been meaning to ask something.”

“Yes?”

“Would you please speak to Naomi when she comes home?  I feel that there is something troubling her that she will not discuss with me.  I have tried to get her to tell me what is wrong, but she pretends not to know what I am talking about.”

Janeway touched the Borg’s cheek, brushing over the starburst shaped implant there.  “Of course I will.  If you promise not to worry,” she urged.

Seven bristled.  “I do not worry,” she flaired.  “Worry is pointless and inefficient.”

“I see.  Well then, I will speak with Naomi, even though you aren’t worried about her,” Janeway agreed with no small hint of amusement curling her lips.

“Thank you.  I appreciate it.”

As if on cue, Naomi came through the front door just then, looking lost and lonely.  Janeway immediately went to her, sweeping her into a firm embrace.  “How was your day, sweetie?” the Captain asked gently.

“Okay,” Naomi answered.  “We made clay sculptures in school today.  I made a targ.  I’m going to give it to B’Elanna for her birthday.”

“That is thoughtful of you,” Seven commented from the kitchen.

Janeway cupped the child’s slender face in her hand, peering down at her.  “Naomi, what is it that has you so upset today?  You’ve been crying, haven’t you?”

Naomi nodded slowly.  "Captain, if Mommy never wakes up, and we finally get home to earth, will I have to live with Daddy?"

Janeway frowned, perplexed.  "Wouldn't you want to, sweetie?"

"I've never met him," Naomi replied.  "I'd rather be with you and Seven."

Janeway smiled fondly.  "We would like that, too, but Naomi, it is very unlikely that Seven and I will be in the same place for long.  I will probably take command of another ship, and Seven will no doubt have her pick of numerous civilian research grants, jobs, or even Starfleet Academy."

Naomi pouted.  "But you and Seven belong together," she argued.  "You are family."

Janeway indulged the girl's notion of propriety.  "Yes, we are all family on Voyager. But realistically, once we are home, we will make new family ties with new people.  Though Seven will always be very special to me," she added with a smile for the Borg, who was observing her intently.

Naomi appealed to the lanky Borg, who was still preparing dinner.  "Seven, don't you want to stay with the Captain after we get back to earth?"

Seven was nothing if not brutally honest.  "Yes," she replied.  "But as the Captain has indicated, it may not be possible."

"But you would, if you could," Naomi stated triumphantly.

"Yes," Seven replied.  "Now ladies, come eat your dinner while it is at an ideal temperature for consumption."
 
Janeway sipped her wine contemplatively, turning over the Borg’s words in her mind, seeing layers of meaning that Naomi did not.  Janeway searched her companion’s eyes.  “You really would if you could?” she asked hesitantly.

“Yes, I would,” Seven affirmed.  “In a nanosecond.”  Janeway felt strangely light headed at that remark.
 
 

Naomi was having a nightmare.  Janeway heard her cries at the same time Seven heard them, and both women headed for the Ktarian's room, almost running into each other.  Seven smiled, allowing Janeway to go first. "Why don't you go back to bed Seven?  I wasn't sleeping, anyway."

Seven nodded.  "Thank you.  But if you need me, I am right here."  Seven ordinarily would have stayed, but she felt it was important for Kathryn to bond with Naomi, as Naomi was already bonded to the Borg.  She couldn't pull herself away from the door jam, however, listening to the sweet words Kathryn spoke, the tenderness that insinuated itself into her manner with the child.  Their child, Seven corrected.  Kathryn enfolded the crying youngster in powerful arms, arms that had the strength of a seasoned leader, and the warmth of a mother.

“It was just a bad dream, sweetheart,” Kathryn soothed her daughter’s jangled nerves.  “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It-it was that awful Borg Queen,” she gasped.  “She took Seven again-and when you went to save her, she assimilated you too.”  Naomi shook with abject terror.  “Her eyes were so-scarey.  Not cold-like you’d think, but friendly in a mean way,” she explained.  “Oh, I can’t describe it,” she said, frustrated.

Janeway rocked her, while Seven watched from the dark hallway.  “I think I understand.  She pretended to be friendly, but you could see in her eyes that she was just pretending.”

“Precisely,” Naomi confirmed, sounding like Seven of Nine.   “And I couldn’t do anything to save you, and Commander Chakotay said he couldn’t risk the ship for two individuals, and we just left you both with that horrible woman,” she let it all out in a rush, sobbing again.  “And I-was-alone!” she wailed.  “Please don’t let me be alone, Captain,” she implored desperately.

Janeway tightened her arms around the tiny shoulders, her heart aching with the need to convey to this girl that she was safe, and that Seven and she would stop at nothing to protect her.  “I promise, Naomi, you will not be alone.  I know you’ve been through a lot, especially for someone so young.  But you must trust me on this:  Seven and I love you and would do anything in our power to make you secure.  That includes being extra careful not to get assimilated,” she added wryly.

Naomi looked up through swollen eyes.  “You would?  You’d be really really careful-for me?”

Janeway swallowed the lump in her throat.  “Absolutely.  Cross my heart.”

Naomi hugged her then, relief flooding her exhausted little mind.  “That would be acceptable,” she murmured, then stifled a yawn.

“You sleep now.  I’ll stay right here and watch over you so you’ll know you are safe.  And if you get scared, you just open your eyes, and you’ll see you’re not alone.”  She lowered the drowsy bundle back to her pillow, and curled up beside her.

Naomi sighed and pulled Janeway’s arm over her, squeezing herself tightly against the older woman.  “G’night, Captain,” she mumbled.  “Sweet dreams.”

Janeway kissed her hair fondly.  “Sweet dreams,” she replied.

Seven of Nine watched them both sleeping for over an hour before she could tear herself away from the precious sight.  It also seemed significant that Naomi no longer had anxiety dreams related to her mother, but that her fears had shifted to anxiety over losing her two surrogate mothers, instead.  That must mean she is bonding with us-with both of us, Seven realized.  Her chest swelled with love for the two women, watching them sleep.  She only wished the bed were big enough for one more body.
 
 

"Here is your error," Seven pointed to the equations on the PADD where Naomi was doing her homework.  "The root of this expression should be positive, not negative."

"Oh!  I see it now, thanks, Seven," she cheered up considerably.  Naomi hated to be wrong, and she hated it even more when she had to go over things more than once to understand them.  She envied Seven, who had photographic memory.  Naomi keyed in the corrections, and the problem was solved.  "There," she said happily.  "Homework complete."

Seven had the girl practically in her lap, and she hugged her close.  "You are quite the scholar," she complimented her.

Naomi put her arms around Seven's neck, hugging her back.  "I love you, Seven," she said quietly.

"And I love you, as well," Seven felt her throat tighten with emotion.  It was the first time anyone had told her that they loved her.  At least that she could remember.

"I'm glad," Naomi said wistfully.  "I was afraid with Mommy being sick, there wouldn't be anybody who cared about me."

Seven kissed the top of her head.  "You are mistaken, Naomi Wildman.  Neelix loves you.  Kathryn loves you.  B'Elanna Torres cares very much for you. You have many friends aboard Voyager, and will make many more before we get to the Alpha Quadrant.  And I will always love you. Never forget that.  You may come to me with anything you wish to discuss.  I will listen, and, if you require, I will advise you.  If I cannot offer reasonable advice, I will find someone who can.  You need not be afraid to tell me your troubles or concerns. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she snuggled contentedly against the Borg. "You mean I can count on you."

"Precisely," Seven agreed, thinking about the meaning of the phrase.

"And on me," Kathryn added, stepping into view.  "Sorry to eavesdrop, but I wanted to tell you both--you can count on me, as well."  She joined them on the couch, all three in a group hug. "We are a family," Janeway stated for Naomi's benefit.  "We always will be, Naomi.  How you need us may change, but the bonds will not change."

Naomi smiled up at her, and innocently asked "Is there any chance our family could grow?  It'd be fun to have a sister or a brother."

Janeway laughed nervously.  "Well, I suppose stranger things have happened," she commented.  "But for now, you're enough of a handful," she tickled Naomi's ribs, making her shriek with laughter.

"Indeed," agreed Seven.  "Or more accurately, you are enough of a lapful," she quipped, having pulled Naomi into her lap completely.  "Now, I believe you are overdue for some exercise, Miss Wildman.  Let's take a walk."

"Captain, would you like to come?  Neelix always has ice cream for us if we stop by the mess hall," Naomi looked hopeful.  Janeway knew she needed to get some work done, but she couldn't refuse the little girl whose life had been turned upside down.

"How can I pass up ice cream?" Then thinking better of it, she asked "What flavor?"  Hopefully, not that cursed Leola Root swill, she thought silently.

Naomi rolled her eyes.  "Strawberry, of course."

Janeway smiled.  "Of course, what else?"

Naomi grinned as she slipped each of her hands into that of her adult companions, and the three strolled through Deck 3, looking every bit like a family.
 

Although he had undergone only a week of sedation and observation, Neelix was not returned to active duty for three weeks.  His first order of business was to assert his presumed parental rights with regard to Naomi. He had broached the subject on several occasions, but the Captain had yet to grant him a full audience.  Finally after three more weeks of his badgering, she agreed to discuss the matter.  They set a date and tried to prepare for the possibility that Naomi might decide to live with Neelix.

The two women were uncertain about how to tell Naomi what Neelix was asking but felt obligated to let the choice fall to Naomi.  Samantha Wildman had shown no signs of improving, and it looked as if wherever Naomi wanted to live, she’d be there for the foreseeable future.  Seven had suggested that they discuss the custody issue with Naomi in a holoprogram they had used together, which was a  simulation of the recreation area at Grand Canyon National Park.  They took a hike and then rested and talked.  Naomi was adamant that she wanted to stay with Seven and the Captain, and not Neelix.  She was clear about the fact that Neelix was dear to her, but she was never planning to leave the Captain and Seven.  If she had her way, even if they found the Alpha Quadrant tomorrow, the three of them would never live apart again.  The adult women each silently wished the same thing, though neither said so.
 
 

Neelix sat in the main conference room with Janeway and Seven, while Tuvok served as the detached mediator for the two sides.  Neelix was adamant that Samantha would want him to raise Naomi, as they had practically been a family unit before the accident.

"Neelix," Janeway sympathized, "I understand you--care for Ensign Wildman, and for Naomi.  But Samantha did not leave any instructions regarding such an event.  No will, no guardianship, nothing."

Neelix was outraged.  "You're reducing this to legalities?  Naomi is as much my daughter as she can be--the only thing missing is the genetics of the matter."  The Talaxian’s tufts of fur twitched with irritation.  “Naomi is my Godchild.  Samantha intended me to raise Naomi in the event of her-incapacity.”

"I'm not saying that the legality, or lack thereof,  matters.  What matters is what Naomi wants, and she has advised Seven and I that she wants to stay with us."

"You presented the choice to her?" Neelix sneered.  "And she rejected me?"  It was more a statement than a question.

"That is correct," Seven glared at him.  "And I do not appreciate your tone, which clearly implies you do not believe the Captain," Seven bristled protectively.  No one would insult her Captain and get away with it.

Janeway laid her hand on Seven’s arm.  “It’s okay,” she tried to calm the angry Borg.  “We all want the same thing here-and that is whatever is best for Naomi.”

Neelix crossed his arms in defiance.  “I want to hear it from Naomi,” he huffed.

“Of course,” Janeway replied, her voice solid ice. “However, I must point out, Neelix, that Naomi has suffered a great deal, and putting her into a position where she will have to make such an important decision may be unwise.  She is very fragile, right now.” She fixed Neelix with a steely glare, conveying her extreme displeasure in no uncertain terms.  “You really want to put her through this?” Seeing that he had no intention of changing his mind, she slapped her comm badge, summoning Naomi to the conference room. “Are we in agreement, Mr. Neelix, that Naomi has the right to make this choice?”

“Frankly, Captain, I feel that Samantha made me Naomi’s Godparent for a reason, and that honor was supposed to settle issues such as this one.  But of course, the last thing I want is to make Naomi unhappy.  I will abide by her wishes, although I am convinced Samantha would want her with me.”

Naomi skipped into the room, then squealed “Neelix!”  and jumped into his lap.  He hugged her to him.  “How have you been?” she asked, squirming in his lap.  She had hardly seen him since the accident, other than in the mess hall.

“I’ve been fine.  I’ve missed you, though, doodlebug.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” she said with a grin. “What’s everybody doing in here?” she asked with the typical devil-may-care attitude of a child.

“Naomi Wildman,” Seven spoke with impatience.  “Mr. Neelix, Kathryn and I wish to ask you a question.”

“Am I in trouble?” Naomi asked sheepishly.

“Unlikely,” Seven responded flatly.  “Naomi,” she said, softening her tone, “Kathryn and I love having you live with us, and would very much like you to stay with us.  However, Mr. Neelix would also like to have you live with him.  You may live wherever you wish.  The choice is yours.”

Naomi’s face clouded over.  “But I-I don’t want to hurt anybody’s feelings,” she stammered.  “I can’t decide something like that without hurting somebody.  Do I have to say?”

Janeway looked at Seven, then pointedly at Neelix.  “It does seem a little unfair, doesn’t it?  It’s a big decision.”

Naomi nodded dismally.  She tugged on Neelix’ whiskers.  “I love you, Neelix,” she informed him solemnly.  “But I’m so happy living with Seven and the Captain.  Isn’t it better to have two people to love me instead of just one?”

“Living apart-living with me,  doesn’t mean Seven or the Captain would stop loving you,” he tried to persuade her.  “It would still mean all three of us love you.”

“But I like having them around all the time.  It makes me not miss Mommy so much.”  She looked furtively at the women, silently asking for help.  Seven thought she could feel her own heart breaking.  “I’m sorry Neelix, but you make me miss Mommy more.  I can’t think about you without thinking about her.  It hurts too much.  If I lived with you, I’d just be a big crybaby.”

Tuvok interceded, seeing that all concerned parties were on the verge of tears.  “That settles it then.  Naomi will stay with Seven and the Captain, as she has chosen.  This mediation is hereby terminated.”

Janeway exhaled slowly.  She hadn’t even realized she was holding her breath.  She hugged Seven tightly, whispering “We did it-we kept our family together.”

Seven smiled through happy tears.  “Indeed,” she replied.
 
 

Janeway sat on the couch, sipping a glass of wine.  Seven had worked late and was in the shower, trying to remove the grime of a seldom used Jeffries tube from her hands and face.  Janeway was preoccupied with a padd of personnel reports and didn’t notice that Seven had just walked out of the ensuite, stark naked.  As Seven came back down the hall, she unselfconsciously smiled at the Captain, not at all concerned that she was nude.  Janeway tried to respect the Borg’s privacy, but what she saw swept the breath from her lungs.  Oh my God, she’s so beautiful, Kathryn sucked in a quick, short breath.  What is wrong with me, for Christ’s sake? Look away, dammit, stop staring at her.  Oh, she is radiant, perfection.  Look away!

“Kathryn, are you alright?” Seven inquired, oblivious to the effect her body was having on the Captain.

“Uh, fine-Seven, fine. I uh, just didn’t expect to see you running around like that.  Took me by surprise,” she stammered, eyes still glued to the excruciatingly perfect vision.

Seven regarded herself, looking up and down her own body.  “Oh.  My implants repulse you.  I assure you, they are not painful, if that is your concern.  I will endeavor to cover them in your presence in the future.”

Janeway swallowed hard.  “No, Seven, your implants most certainly do not repulse me.  Repulse is not a word I could ever use in the same breath as your name.”  Her eyes fixed the Borg’s pale blue eye.  “I was just surprised at how overwhelming the sight of you can be.”

Seven frowned.  “I am confused.  Is overwhelming a good thing or a bad thing?”

Janeway blushed from her neck to her hairline.  “Oh, most definitely a good thing,” she grinned wolfishly.  “You are simply stunning, Seven. Especially with your hair down like that.”

Seven smiled uncertainly.  “I am?”

“Yes, you are.  Now get back in the shower, before I embarrass myself any further.”

“I will comply,” the Borg teased.  She smiled to herself as she submerged herself in the hot water coursing from the shower.  Kathryn finds me attractive, implants and all.  My beautiful, sweet Kathryn couldn’t force herself to look away from me.  Seven of Nine, formerly tertiary adjunct to Unimatrix Zero-One, wondered if it was possible to die from happiness or, more pertinently, from desire.
 
 

Naomi was spending the night with Neelix, which Kathryn and Seven had encouraged, if only to appease the Talaxian’s resentful attitude over the custody mediation.  Janeway was making the most of the break in routine.  She had left duty early, scheduled a Velocity court, prepared dinner, and was now soaking in a hot bath.  You’re trying to seduce her, a nasty little voice in her head accused.  Wine, soft music, a romantic dinner-and now you’re primping for her.  “I am not,” Janeway retorted out loud.  You want her.  Admit it.  You’d give your left tit to kiss her. “Would not,” she argued aloud again.  Sure, Katie.  Keep telling yourself that.  Just thinking about her makes your knees buckle. “Only when I think about her naked,” she said under her breath.  You always think about her naked, the voice continued.  Janeway sank beneath the surface of the bath water, groaning “Oh, shut up.”

Seven surveyed the dimly lit quarters, a little surprised, but pleased to see that Kathryn had gone out of her way to make this evening special.  Romantic, Seven corrected, not just special.  Kathryn stepped out of her bedroom, dressed in her workout clothes.  “I got us a court for 8 - are you up for a few rounds?” she asked innocently, her tone dripping innuendo.

“A few rounds of what?”  Seven eyed her suggestively, which left the Captain speechless.

Finally, sputtering, Kathryn replied, “Velocity” in a faint voice.

“Indeed,” Seven commented, wiggling her eyebrows, further disconcerting the older woman.

Janeway slapped her playfully.  “What’s gotten into you, Borg?” she scolded.

Seven looked indignant.  “I believe the correct response is that You have ‘gotten into me’,” she retorted.  “As Naomi Wildman says, ‘don’t dish it out if you can’t take it.’”

Janeway snickered.  “I sometimes think I am living with two children instead of one,” she mocked her roommate.

Seven firmly grabbed her shoulders, smiling lasciviously, and pulled Kathryn within inches of her face.  “I assure you, I am not a child,” she said seductively, toying with Kathryn, whose legs were turning to gelatin.  “I am all woman.  If you doubt it, simply say so, and I will show you.”  Her eyes were smoldering as she peered directly into Janeway’s face, barely a breath away from kissing her.  Then the intensity was gone, and she was grinning at the way Kathryn had to grab the counter of the breakfast nook to steady herself.  “I’m starved,” she said gleefully, as if she had not just reduced her Captain to a worthless puddle.  “What are we having?”
 

Janeway was deliriously grateful for the exhausting nature of Velocity, which allowed her to vent her frustrated sexual desires and restore her dignity as she slaughtered Seven.  As they left the holodeck, Janeway toweled herself dry.  “I kicked your ass,” she taunted the lean, lanky Borg.

Seven quirked an eyebrow.  “That is odd.  My ‘ass’ does not hurt.”  Then smiling, “but you did mop the court with me, as Commander Chakotay says.”

“You thirsty?  We could raid the mess hall.”

“Why Captain,” Seven feigned horror, “I cannot believe as commanding officer, you would dare suggest such a thing to a subordinate officer.”

Kathryn leered at her.  “I could suggest quite a few things to a certain subordinate officer.”

“Indeed.  I’m listening,” Seven called her bluff.

Janeway chuckled, knowing she’d been found out.  “My suggestion is grapefruit juice,” she offered.

“An excellent, if disappointing, choice,” Seven quipped.

Janeway shook her head ruefully.  “You’ve developed quite the sense of humor, Seven of Nine,” she noted appreciatively.

Seven smiled.  “I used to think humor was irrelevant,” she explained.  “But I find it to be a useful tool in dealing with this collective-and, most importantly, with Naomi.  Sometimes teasing her or making humorous remarks is the only way to reach out to her when she grows despondent over her mother.”

“Well, for whatever reason, seeing this side of you is a rare treat.”

Seven nodded.  “Thank you, Kathryn.”

Later, in their quarters, they relaxed over a bottle of wine.  “I’ve been thinking,” Janeway said.

“Kahless help us all,” Seven snorted, repeating one of B’Elanna’s favorite sayings.

Janeway glared playfully at her.  “About Naomi.  Remember when you told me that she wants to become my bridge assistant?”

“Yes, but I told her no such rank exists.”

“It could though.  What if we promoted her to the position, and used it as a way to incorporate her education?”

Seven sipped at her wine pensively.  “I’m listening.”

“I was thinking that we could let her go through rotations of each functional area of Voyager, so she could learn about the business of running a ship and all the contingencies involved.  It would be a way to let her determine where her true interests lie.”

“I could do the Astrometrics rotation,” Seven leaned forward, growing excited.  “Tuvok could handle the Security rotation, you could teach her the command structure.”

“B’Elanna adores Naomi and could do the engineering portion of the training,” Janeway continued.  “And Chakotay could teach her about administrative functions-scheduling, resource planning, disciplinary proceedings.  Nothing too technical, though.  Just an overview of each department.  Then if she expresses a preference for any area, she can gear her educational goals accordingly.”

Seven actually giggled.  “How are you going to tell her about her ‘promotion’, Kathryn?” Seven asked, getting into the plan.

Janeway hugged her without a second thought.  “You are absolutely loving this, aren’t you?”

Seven hugged her back.  “I find that making Naomi happy makes me happy as well,” Seven positively glowed, her glacier blue eyes sparkling in the candle light.

“I was thinking we could have our regular Monday morning staff meeting, and then at the end of the meeting, we could call her to the conference room and make a big deal out of it.  Kids love to be the center of attention,” Janeway grinned ear to ear.

Seven assumed her most aloof expression.  “It would appear that I am not the only one ‘loving this’, Kathryn.”

“Caught me,” Janeway held up her hands in surrender. “I can’t help it.  Naomi is just so lovable.”

“Yes, she is,” Seven acquiesced.  Her thoughts wandered momentarily, suddenly aware of how closely Kathryn was sitting, the repeated hand upon her arm, her thigh, and the heat emanating from Kathryn’s body.  A light fragrance, uniquely Kathryn’s own, invaded Seven’s senses like an intoxicant. Without realizing it, the two women were gazing into each other’s eyes, mesmerized by the emotions they could see reflected there.  Seven felt her heart aching with unspoken love, tried to swallow the knot in her throat, tried to find the right words.

And then the moment was gone as abruptly as it had come, Janeway withdrawing to the kitchen to refill her wine glass.  Seven’s leg tingled where Kathryn had been pressed against her.  She allowed her gaze to linger over the sensuous contours of Kathryn’s back side, memorizing every curve, every angle.  Janeway was mildly aware that she was being studied and felt the blood rush to her face in a self-conscious wave.  God it’s hot in here.  What is wrong with the temperature controls?  “Computer,” she ordered, “reduce room temperature five degrees.”  She felt a bit more composed after authoritatively telling the machine what to do.  She retreated to her bedroom, returning with a small bundle in her arms.  “What do you think?” she asked the gorgeous young Borg.

Seven glanced up to see a beaming Janeway holding up a perfect Starfleet uniform in Naomi’s size, with a  lavender placket where the captain wore command red.  Seven clapped her hands together like a child, leaping up to examine the miniature garment, boisterously hugging the Captain.  “Oh Kathryn, it is simply wonderful!” she gushed, crushing Janeway in her enthusiasm.  “Naomi will be so thrilled!”

Kathryn laughed, patting Seven’s back, the merriment dancing in her eyes.  “I’m glad you approve,” she chuckled at the response of her astrometrics chief.   “Oh, and look,” she added, holding out her hand, revealing four pips, inlaid with mother of pearl.  “A new rank, a new insignia for Starfleet’s first Captain’s Bridge Assistant.”

Seven squealed in delight.  She gave the Captain the most brilliant smile, eyes shining with  happiness.  She knew in that instant that she was in love with Kathryn Janeway, and, given the opportunity, would serve her faithfully for the rest of her life.  “Also wonderful,” she pronounced, touching the tiny pips.  Then fairly bursting with love, she added “And you are wonderful, Kathryn Janeway.”  She dropped a kiss on the older woman’s cheek.  “I shall never forget this kindness.”

Janeway glowed in Seven’s praise, thinking she should promote a bridge assistant every day if it would cause Seven of Nine to fly into her arms like this.  She noted a faint tingle where Seven’s lips had touched her cheek.  “C’mon,” Janeway tugged on Seven’s hand.  “Let’s go find out Naomi’s shoe size and replicate some matching boots.”
 
 

Naomi Wildman ran to the main conference room, responding to the captain’s hail.  The doors to the room swooshed open, and the bright eyed little girl entered with as much dignity as a five-year-old could muster.  Chakotay pressed his fingers to his mouth to suppress a peal of laughter, as Naomi came to attention, and crisply stated “Naomi Wildman reporting as ordered Captain.”

Janeway kept her command face, barely.  “At ease, Miss Wildman,” she snapped, the corners of her mouth curling upward against her will. Naomi promptly assumed the “at ease” posture as dictated by Starfleet protocol, hands clasped behind her back, staring straight ahead, deadly serious.  The senior officers hid their amusement in their coffee cups, or behind their hands.  All except Tuvok, who never cracked a smile.  Janeway stood at the head of the table, addressing the assembly with mock seriousness, her tone formal and decisive.

“Being stranded in the Delta Quadrant, we have had to learn great flexibility and improvisational skills.  We have had to address needs as needs have arisen.  And we have relied upon each other for survival and companionship. As Captain, it is incumbent upon me to recognize and reward the contributions of my crew for instances of exemplary performance.  Consequently, Naomi Wildman, for bravery and conduct becoming an officer, for your invaluable contributions to the community that is Voyager, I hereby grant you the field promotion of Captain’s Bridge Assistant and all the duties and responsibilities that office entails. Do you accept this promotion?”

“Yes, Captain!” the little Ktarian answered joyfully.

“Then please retire to the ensuite and get into uniform, young lady.  Double time.”  Janeway handed her the miniature garb of a Starfleet officer, comm badge, and boots.  Naomi scurried off to dress, shouting “yes Ma’am!” as she hurried away.  At that, the senior officers could not hold their mirth.  Harry Kim laughed so hard, Tom Paris had to slap his back to stop him from choking.

In mere seconds, Naomi was back, dressed flawlessly and holding her chest out proudly.  “Naomi Wildman, reporting for duty, Captain,” she announced.

“Naomi Wildman,” Janeway continued, “step forward.”  Janeway looked fondly upon the child, and carefully affixed the white pips to her new officer’s collar.  “By the authority vested in me by the United Federation of Planets and by Starfleet Command, you are hereby assigned the rank of Captain’s Bridge Assistant.  Raise your right hand, and repeat after me:  I solemnly swear to uphold the ideals of the United Federation of Planets, to perform my duty faithfully, and to honor the office to which I have been promoted.”

Naomi dutifully repeated the speech, then looked expectantly at the Captain, who held a small mirror up so that the child could see her insignia gleaming against the gray turtleneck.  Her eyes went wide, and she forgot herself.  “Four pips!” she exclaimed, impressed that she had as many as the Captain.  The room burst into happy applause and laughter, and each officer offered congratulations to the youngest officer ever commissioned in Starfleet.

“This calls for a celebration,” Janeway called over the noise.  “Neelix-the first round is on me!”

On cue, Neelix wheeled in a silver serving cart that sported a large cake and generous amounts of ice cream.  Everyone was eager to have a party instead of returning to work, and Naomi promptly crawled into Chakotay’s lap to feed him forkfuls of cake.  He made greedy growling bear noises with every bite, and Naomi giggled at his silly behavior.  Harry and Tom hovered nearby, admiring the child’s uniform and perfectly polished boots.

B’Elanna, Seven, and Janeway watched as Naomi held court over the male staff.  “Chakotay never could resist a pretty girl,” B’Elanna smarted off to her companions.

“Chakotay,” Kathryn called to him.  “I don’t recall you ever putting any of my other officers on your lap.  Are you harassing my new assistant?”

“No Ma’am,” he grinned sheepishly.

“Good thing, Commander,” she teased.  “After all, Naomi has more pips than you.  She might bust you down to Ensign.”
 

Naomi could hardly be persuaded to relinquish her uniform to the recycling unit that night, she was so proud of it.  Janeway finally convinced her that it simply would not do for the Captain’s right hand woman to come to work disheveled.  Naomi relented then, anxiously watching as the unit regurgitated a fresh uniform.  Waiting in her jammies, Naomi nodded with relief when the uniform popped out, pressed and perfect.  Seven came in then, and snuggled into the tiny bed with her friend.  “Are you ready for your story?” Seven asked, putting an arm around the child.

“Yes,” she agreed.

“Tell me,” Seven requested, “did you enjoy yourself today?”

“Oh yes!” Naomi enthused.  “It was the best day of my whole life!”  Then distractedly, she added “but I wish Mommy could have been there.”

“Your mother would be very proud of you, Naomi Wildman, as am I.”

“Thanks, Seven.”

“You are welcome.  Very well then, Once Upon A Time,” Seven began the story.

Kathryn Janeway peeked around the door of the bedroom, watching Seven read to their surrogate daughter, keenly aware of how full these two people had made her previously lonely life.  The long nights were now filled with laughter, stimulating conversation, companionship.  She was sleeping better than she had slept in years, ate at regular intervals, and could forget about the burden of command in the sanctuary of her newfound family.  It was almost complete, she realized.  Almost.
 
 

“I do not understand,” Seven observed the camp site with an icy calm.  “This,” she poked at the tent “flimsy fabric offers no protection from the elements.”

Janeway let out a sharp bark of laughter.  “You’re right, Seven, but it does serve to make a pocket of warm air around us while we sleep.  It’s much cozier than sleeping out in the open.”

“Indeed,” Seven quirked a skeptical eyebrow.

“Smell that, Seven,” Janeway breathed deeply, spreading her arms in an expansive gesture, enjoying the fragrance of pine trees.  “Naomi’s going to love it!”  Jane way pranced over to the replicated cooler.  “And look,” she implored, opening the lid.  “Real weiners for the camp fire.”

Seven examined the hot dogs.  “For the fire?  These…meat tubes will do little to aid in the combustion process.”

Janeway rolled her eyes, squeezing Seven’s arm.  “You don’t burn them, Seven, you cook them and eat them.  Like this,” she demonstrated, skewering the hot dog on a slender branch from a nearby tree.

“That,” intoned the Borg disdainfully, “is not sanitary.”

Janeway gave her a lopsided grin.  “Precisely why kids love ‘em,” she countered.

Seven of Nine examined the ‘meat tube’ with a practiced eye.  “You are telling me that ingesting dirt, dust, and pine tar along with this meat tube somehow…enhances the experience?”  Janeway nodded affirmation.  “Most illogical,” Seven sniffed haughtily.

Janeway laughed again.  “That’s the beauty of being five years old.  You get to be delightfully illogical.”

Seven gasped suddenly, her eyes troubled, as a brief wave of memory washed over her.

“Seven,” Janeway was startled, “what is it?”

Seven’s full bottom lip trembled.  “I-I used to eat these with Mama and Papa,” she whispered, disbelieving the accuracy of the memory.  “I believe it was a ‘picnic’,” she sounded far away.  Tears gathered in her eyes as she grasped at the remnants of  her memory of a life long gone.  “Samson loved hot dogs,” she said with a thick voice.

Janeway put her arms around Seven’s waist, leaning her forehead against Seven’s cheek.  “Who is Samson?”

Seven looked at her, stunned.  “Samson was my dog,” she remembered vividly now.  “Annika Hansen had a dog,” she said with awe.  “She-I--loved him very much,” she choked on the words, crying hard now.  “Papa forced me to leave Samson behind when we left earth on the Raven.  I was devastated,” she admitted.

Janeway held her until she was cried out.  Seven wiped her eyes impatiently, pulling away from the comforting arms.  “Naomi will be here in a few minutes,” she informed the Captain.  “I must stop crying and prepare.”

Janeway marveled at the instantaneous self discipline of her astrometrics officer.  She watched as Seven unrolled Naomi’s sleeping bag, fluffed her pillow, and gently placed the girl’s teddy bear against the pillow.  How is it that she can be such a terrific mother, when her own parents were so bad at parenting? Janeway wondered.
 
 

Naomi and Seven were engaged in a furious tickle-fight in the tent, Janeway watching with amusement.  Four months together, she realized, and Samantha Wildman had yet to regain consciousness.  In fact, her condition could be considered vegetative.  The doctor was continuing to search for a way to bring the young Ensign out of her coma, but hadn’t found anything promising.  Naomi faithfully visited sickbay every morning before her lessons and every evening before dinner.  She helped the doctor with Samantha’s physical therapy, which was really nothing more than an attempt to keep her muscles from disintegrating into complete atrophy.  The general feeling of the crew, however, was that Samantha was gone.  After awhile, people had just stopped hoping for a change.  Janeway realized with not a little guilt that she could not feel sorry about Samantha’s condition.  Raising a child with Seven, her love for both of them, was turning out to be the most profound experience of her life.  She was in no hurry to give it up.

Janeway watched the holographic sunset, sipping her coffee, listening to the sounds of her companions playing.  It warmed her to hear Seven laugh and to know Naomi was teaching the Borg as much about living as the Borg was teaching Naomi.  The new Bridge Assistant had so far shown an amazing aptitude for engineering and a passing interest in security.  B’Elanna had put together some lessons in basic fluid mechanics, math, and physics.  Naomi was already reading well beyond her level and had mastered polynomial algebra.  Janeway was sincerely impressed, remembering that, at five, she had cared more about chasing butterflies behind the barn than equations.

“Hey you two ruffians,” she called to them.  “It’s almost dark.  Let’s go for a swim before dinner.”

Naomi made a mad dash for the lake, calling “try to catch me, Seven.”  The Borg thundered down the trail behind her, careful not to catch her.

“Kathryn, come on,” Seven hollered.  Janeway shook her head, forcing herself to head for the water.  She watched appreciatively as Seven disrobed, her curves and full breasts gleaming in the fading light.  She had to consciously catch her breath and still her thundering pulse as she stared at this striking example of femaleness.  She longed to feel that ivory skin against her lips, to touch the metallic implants that were uniquely Seven of Nine, to worship this creature with her hands and mouth.  Seven turned to see the unabashed lust in Kathryn’s eyes, smiled invitingly, and turned to face her, giving her a fuller view.  Kathryn staggered to the shoreline, her legs unsteady, her heart pounding in her ears.  God, does she have any idea what she does to me, she wondered, feeling weak and wanton.  Silently, Janeway stripped herself bare and dove into the lake, needing the brisk slap of cold water to quell her growing attraction.  Maybe I’ll just sit on the bottom of the lake until my head clears, she thought grimly.  Except I’d probably drown well before this ache goes away.

As predicted, Naomi was eager to roast weiners on stripped branches, and the experience was enhanced by the unsanitary conditions.  Seven went along with the ritual, though she felt a little squeamish about the dirt.  Janeway assured her that the purpose of the alcohol they were drinking was to kill any germs, and that Naomi, who wasn’t drinking alcohol, needed to challenge her immune system to adapt.  Seven did not believe the Captain for a moment.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Kathryn curled up behind Seven of Nine, and in her sleep, draped her arm over the motionless Borg.  Seven, who was wide awake, lay her hand over Kathryn’s, smiling with satisfaction.  Then feeling bolder, Seven turned to face the sleeping woman, careful not to dislodge the arm that captured her.  Seven touched Kathryn’s face, studying the contour of her lips, nose, and cheekbones.  Janeway’s eyelids fluttered momentarily as she became aware of Seven’s caress.  She reached up, covering Seven’s hand with her own, pressing it against her face, closing her eyes again to concentrate on the sensation.  Seven gazed at her patiently, waiting for Kathryn to open her eyes.  When at last she did, Seven pulled her hand away, then lifted Kathryn’s chin with two elegant fingers, and brushed her lips over Kathryn’s, tentatively, then again; velvet, glancing kisses that communicated love and desire.  As Seven drew Kathryn into her arms, she felt the older woman trembling.

“Are you cold?” Seven asked, still brushing feather-light kisses over Kathryn’s lips.

“No,” Kathryn murmured.  “Just a little afraid of what I’m feeling…of what I’ve been feeling for a long time.”

Seven’s eyes revealed the yearning she felt, though her voice was steady. “Tell me,” she demanded.

Kathryn captured her lips then in a full embrace, exploring gently, but insistently. After a lengthy interlude of increasingly passionate kissing, Kathryn finally answered.  “I am feeling that I want to be in your arms like this every night, for always.”

Seven smiled tenderly.  “I want that, as well.  Sometimes, I am so in love with you that it causes a pain in my chest, just looking at you. When we are apart, I can think of little else but you.  When we are together, I feel, somehow, more complete,” she explained.  Then kissing her love again, she continued, “When you look at me, all else ceases to exist-there is no Delta Quadrant, no Voyager, no crew-it is as if you fill the world around me, and there is only you.”

Kathryn kissed her again, deeply, passionately.  “I’ve wanted to talk about this, to tell you how much I love you, Seven, but I’ve been so happy with our living arrangements, I didn’t want to risk changing anything. And I’ve been worried about giving the rest of the crew the impression or favoritism.”

Seven regarded Janeway affectionately.  Teasing, “Yes, I will expect preferential treatment in all things, knowing I have this effect on you,” she said with a wicked grin.  Seeing Kathryn’s genuine concern, she added “I doubt than anything will change, other than the fact that we will express, rather than hide our feelings.”  She sealed that promise with the tenderest of kisses, holding Kathryn to her, cupping her face in both hands.

When Kathryn started to breathe heavily, Seven pulled away.

Kathryn sighed.  “I wish that’s all that will change, but that’s not realistic.  In romantic relationships, there is always jealousy-“

Seven cut her off.  “Jealousy is irrelevant,” she argued.  “I love you and will never love another this way.”  Her tone brooked no argument.

“Well, there’s always pride,” Janeway tried again, but Seven was having none of it.

“The only pride that is relevant is the pride I feel to be loved by you.”

Janeway laughed quietly.  “See? Things have already changed.  I admit that I love you, and you start contradicting everything I say.”

Seven smirked at that.  “Kathryn, I have been contradicting you from the moment I set foot on Voyager.  I rarely heed your orders, and I have been subject to disciplinary actions on several occasions. Obviously, hiding my feelings for you has not resulted in greater loyalty or obedience.  However, perhaps the desire to support you in all things as my life-partner will inspire increased loyalty and obedience.”

Janeway kissed her again, laughter rumbling in her chest.  “Yes, you have been an unruly pain in the butt at times,” she conceded.  Then questioningly, “Life partner?  That sounds serious.”

Seven gathered the smaller woman tighter into the circle of her arms.  “Have you ever known me to be frivolous?  I do not take it lightly that we are raising a child together, nor would I embark on a romance with any less commitment,” she said matter-of-factly.  Then peering into Kathryn’s eyes, with all seriousness, she said “My intentions toward you are honorable.”

Kathryn suppressed the urge to laugh at the archaic sentiment.  “You want to make me an honest woman, my love?” she teased.

Seven frowned.  “You are an honest woman.  I fail to see how I could make you moreso.”

At that Janeway laughed, then stifled it to prevent waking Naomi.

Seven moved to take Kathryn in her arms, hovering over her, careful to balance her weight on her own limbs and avoid crushing her beloved.  She dropped her face to claim Kathryn’s lips again. After long moments of soft, shy kisses, Seven sought entrance to Kathryn’s mouth with her tongue, eliciting a groan from her Captain, who was now trembling in earnest desire.

“Seven,” Janeway half whispered, half moaned.  “It would be totally inappropriate to let this progress,” she reluctantly admitted.  “Naomi shouldn’t learn about the birds and the bees by observing us first hand,” she chuckled.

Seven resisted the urge to ignore Kathryn’s protests.  “You say the strangest things, Kathryn.  Why would our kissing have anything to do with Naomi becoming an ornithologist or an entomologist?  And why did you laugh when you asked if I wanted to make you an honest woman?”

Janeway snuggled in closer.  “The birds and the bees are a euphemism for sex, Seven. As for making me an honest woman, it’s an old expression.  During the mid 20th century on earth, it was considered immoral for a woman to become sexually involved with anyone outside of a marriage contract.  The concept of making someone an ‘honest’ woman means to validate her right to be intimate in marriage.  Marriage carried the connotation of respect and morality, while anything less suggested disreputable intentions.”

“Indeed,” Seven considered.  “Then if my intentions are honorable, I should ask you to marry me?”

“Not really-not in this day and age.  Our standards are much different today.  Back then, two women could not be together without social censure, let alone get married.  I can’t imagine a world so backward, but apparently, same-gender relationships were considered immoral by certain cultures, and illegal as well.”

Seven looked perplexed.  “But how can any expression of love be anything less than perfect?  Even the Borg, with their relentless pursuit of perfection, have never accomplished anything more perfect than love.”

“I quite agree,” Janeway whispered.  “Humanity’s history is often ugly and illogical.  Thank God we learned from our mistakes.”  Janeway hugged her tightly, rolling the Borg off her so she could curl up in Seven’s arms.  “Marriage still has its advantages, though.  It certainly settles the matter of who will be responsible for supporting children, and it does signify the intent to stay together for a lifetime. It is also a pledge of sexual fidelity.  In that respect, the institution has value.”

Seven stroked her auburn hair lovingly, thinking over the Captain’s words.  “I have observed that many of the ‘married’ crew do not practice sexual fidelity,” she commented.

“Well, yes, you’re right, but most of the married crew are separated from their spouses, and expect that they will never see them again.”

Seven’s right eyebrow shot up. “If you were married to me, and we were stranded light years apart, would you disregard our relationship?”

Kathryn measured her words carefully.  “I hope not, but I am only human.  Things are rarely black and white, right or wrong.  There are varying shades of gray.  I would like to think I would honor my commitments, regardless of the circumstances, but that’s easier said than done.”  She bit her lip, hoping Seven wasn’t disappointed with her honest response.

“Then I shall endeavor to be a sufficient mate, so that you will never have reason to disregard our commitment.”

“Seven, aren’t we putting the cart before the horse a bit here?  I mean, people usually take a good long while together before talking of commitment, let alone marriage.”

“As you wish,” she agreed, though she sounded hurt.  “But I know what I feel for you, Kathryn, and I know that for many weeks, the emotion has grown stronger each day.  I have no reason to believe that it will diminish.  Therefore, I would willingly make a lifetime commitment to you.  In fact, I already have, by agreeing to co-parent Naomi with you.”

Kathryn was touched.  She kissed her love softly then, knowing Seven had offered the most precious gift anyone had ever given her, but reluctant to take it.  Why not, the little voice pricked her, you know you love her.  You know you have loved her since the first moment you saw her.  You allowed yourself the happiness of a family.  Don’t deny her the happiness of security.  “You know, Seven, this is new to me.  I’ve never been…intimate…with a woman.”

Seven laughed.  “I’ve never been intimate with anyone,” she admitted.  “But I think we will muddle through together,” she assured her.

Janeway continued to argue internally, afraid her reluctance had hurt Seven, but afraid to take such a big step.  Then it dawned on her that she had denied herself the comfort of a relationship for the duration of the journey through the Delta quadrant.  And barring some major miracle, she would spend sixty years on Voyager.  Certainly, Seven of Nine was the only person on board she would be willing to try with.

And there would be many advantages if they married.  Most notably, the crew would have to deal with the fact that the Captain was in a relationship, and marriage was much more final than an affair.  If they did not marry, their relationship would be perceived as an affair, and that misperception could erode her command authority.  Gossip seemed to materialize out of thin air, as it was, and something as juicy as the Captain seducing a Borg was bound to raise speculation.

On the other hand, sending out wedding invitations would catch everyone off guard, make them confront the depth of the relationship, and should sidestep any idle gossip.  And if by chance, Voyager found a shortcut back to the Alpha Quadrant, being legally married would mean that Seven could go with the Captain on her next assignment, if Seven chose to do so. It might circumvent any attempt to treat Seven as a laboratory experiment, as well.

And they could have children, Kathryn realized, having never known that she actually wanted them, but now acutely aware that she did.

Head upon Seven’s shoulder, she whispered in the Borg’s ear.  “You really want to marry me?”

Seven squeezed her.  “More than anything.”

“Then I would be honored to accept.”

Seven said too loudly, forgetting that Naomi was sleeping, “You will?” and rolled over to hover above the Captain.  “I promise you will not regret it, Kathryn,” she lowered her voice again, but gave the woman beneath her a dazzling smile.

“I know I won’t,” Janeway assured her.    Then hesitantly, she asked in a small voice “Do you want more children?”

“I do.  Do you?”

“Definitely.  Naomi has made me appreciate what a child can bring to this life.  And it would be fascinating to see your elegant beauty in the cherubic face of a child.  I also think Naomi would benefit from having a sibling.  I know I did,” she clung to her Borg, excited by the prospect.

“If it is acceptable to you, though, I would like to postpone that for at least a year.  I want to have time with you, just for us.  Naomi is old enough that she does not prevent us from spending time together.  An infant would be another story.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean we should run to see the doctor tomorrow to extract ova,” Janeway teased.  “I would prefer a long honeymoon.”

“What is a ‘honeymoon’?”

“Oh, you’ll have to wait and find out.  But I promise-you’ll like it,” she chuckled knowingly.
 
 

Once the agreement was struck, the couple wasted no time setting a date for the event.  They had agreed to total secrecy until the invitations were sent, knowing that the utter shock of the news would be one of the most entertaining things to happen on Voyager.  Even Naomi didn’t know.

Seven and Kathryn designed electronic invitations for the crew and replicated paper copies for the senior staff.   When the announcements went out, there were more than a few disappointed crew members who had toyed with the idea of approaching Seven of Nine.  Kathryn decided that was yet another benefit of marriage-it sent a clear signal to anyone lurking in the shadows that there were firm boundaries.  It was with a deep sense of relief that the congratulatory RSVPs began to come in, and that no one seemed surprised or disapproving of the announcement.

It was decidedly awkward, however, being formally engaged, crazy in love, living in the same quarters, and having a five-year-old scrutinizing every interaction.  They were concerned about the propriety of the situation, not for any outdated moral standard, but because they did not want to alienate Naomi, or to appear to share something that excluded her.   Naomi was more at ease with the situation than they were, it seemed.

One evening over dinner, they were discussing the wedding plans, and Naomi piped up.  “You guys love each other, right?”

“Very much,” Kathryn touched Seven’s hand.

“Then why don’t you ever kiss each other?”

Kathryn nearly choked on her iced tea.  “What makes you think we don’t?”

Naomi shrugged.  “I’ve never seen you,” she pointed out.

Seven laughed lightly, not at all intimidated by this line of questioning.  It was so like her own disconcerting candor, she found it refreshing.  “Some things are just-private, Naomi,” she responded.

“You’re not ashamed of it, are you?”

“Not at all,” Seven replied easily.  “Why would we be?”

Naomi chewed slowly, thinking that one over.  “I don’t know, exactly, but Mommy never kissed Neelix in front of anybody but me.  I always assumed she was embarrassed or something.  I think it was because of daddy, though I can’t say how.” Naomi struggled with the ethical implications.  “I think Mommy was just so sad about missing Daddy, that she sort of needed Neelix,” she confessed with a tolerant attitude.

Seven and Kathryn exchanged alarmed glances.  So the rumors about Samantha and Neelix had been true, and Naomi had known all along.  And here they were, worrying about the propriety of their relationship, when Naomi had been witness to adultery most of her life and had no judgment to pass.

Kathryn swallowed her anxiety over the situation, and calmly told Naomi “We are most definitely not embarrassed or ashamed,” she said as much for Seven as Naomi.  “I love Seven very much, and I’m proud to know she loves me.  When grownups are discrete about their love lives, it is more to keep from embarrassing the people around them than it is about being embarrassed about the relationship.  Does that make sense?”

Naomi nodded thoughtfully.  “I think so.  I used to feel sort of creepy whenever I saw Neelix kissing Mommy, but I don’t know why.  I guess I felt like I shouldn’t look.”

“Precisely,” Seven approved of the girl’s astute analysis.  “Which is why Kathryn and I are not demonstrative around you.  We do not want to make you feel ‘creepy’.”

Naomi giggled at the way the Borg said the slang word, which sounded funny coming from the former drone.  “You’re so silly, Seven,” she grinned through a mouthful of food.

Seven kissed the crown of her head.  “Why thank you,” she replied.  “I believe that gives me something in common with you,” she teased.  “Now chew with your mouth closed.  I do not like seafood.”

A very old joke, but Naomi had never heard it and fell out of her chair laughing.  Seven made a mental note to thank the resident juvenile delinquent who had told her the joke, Tom Paris.

After Naomi had gone to bed,  Kathryn and Seven sat together on the couch, in their usual manner, sipping wine and talking quietly.  Seven especially liked it when Kathryn sat facing away from her, but leaning back in her arms.  Seven loved wrapping her arms around her fragile waist and being able to nuzzle her ear.  She adored the effect it had on her beloved, who often leaned her head back, exposing her throat, sometimes sighing, other times whimpering.  Seven had exercised the utmost restraint in those moments, thinking Kathryn would rather wait until they were married to further explore their desires.

Kathryn was puzzled by Seven’s behavior and not a little disappointed.  With the wedding two months away, and really, at this point, a formality, Kathryn felt they were simply prolonging the agony.  When Seven’s lips found her throat, she surrendered, throwing her head back.  She reached behind Seven’s neck, loosening the tightly bound hair, letting it spill over Seven’s shoulders like liquid gold.  Then rotating to face the Borg,  she kissed her hungrily, moaning into her sweet mouth.

Seven felt her restraint slipping, the sound of Kathryn’s need enflaming her own.  “Kathryn,” she pushed her partner away, “if you kiss me like that I shall lose control of my behavior,” she sounded guilty.

“Good,” Janeway said in her deepest voice, kissing the Borg demandingly.

Again Seven struggled to compose herself, easing away from that tantalizing embrace.  “I do not understand,” she managed between brief kisses.  “You want me to lose control?”

Kathryn kissed her throat, sending tremors through her intended’s body. “I want to make love with you all night,” she whispered.  “Don’t you?”

“Yes.  But,” Seven felt her resolve falter, “I promised you my intentions were honorable.”

That cooled Kathryn’s ardor slightly.  She regarded her partner with concern.  “Making love is not honorable?”

Seven hid her face in Kathryn’s silken hair, feeling shame at her weakness.  “I did some research on marriage and family relations in the Sociological database.  As I understand it, it is dishonorable to indulge in sexual behavior before marriage.”  Then with great sorrow, Seven added, “And I have already failed you in so many ways.”

“What ways?”

“First, my proposal was flawed.  I did not kneel before you, or present you with an ‘engagement’ ring, nor did I obtain your parents’ permission to ask for your hand.”

Janeway’s face contorted in amusement.  “Seven,” she queried patiently, “that data you studied-how old was it?”

“It was not precisely dated.  It merely said it was from a period called the Victorian era, which I supposed is the current era.  I assumed that given the war with the Dominion, the Federation would want to project the confidence that they will be victorious, hence, the Victorian era.”

Janeway had to admire the logic, if not the conclusions.  “Seven,” she touched her face tenderly, “that data is several hundred years old. The taboo ascribed to sex before marriage died out in the early 21st century.  Many people engage in intimate relationships without ever getting married, these days.  There is no dishonor in taking pleasure in each other, not now, not ever.”

Seven shivered at the thoughts the persuasive argument was provoking.  “B’Elanna told me that what is honorable, and what is not honorable in any given society depends upon the culture.  My research was intended to ensure that my behavior would be honorable by your standards.  I was trying to show my respect and reverence for you, Kathryn.”

Kathryn sighed with relief.  “I was starting to fear you didn’t want me in that way.”

“I want you in every way,” Seven assured her, kissing her forcefully to emphasize it.  Kathryn responded greedily, her mouth open, compliant, seeking.  Her feverish tongue explored the texture of Seven’s mouth and lips, her hands tangled in the cascade of golden hair, her body straining to be even closer to her Borg.  Seven slid her fingers up Kathryn’s back, inching beneath her blouse, touching bare skin with languid caresses.  Kathryn’s abrupt intake of air told Seven her lover was excited by those caresses, and the way the older woman nibbled and tugged at Seven’s bottom lip urged her to take more, to feel more, to open up more.

Tearing her mouth away, Kathryn whispered in Seven’s ear, “I love you, Seven.  Will you let me make love to you?”

“Please,” Seven begged, shuddering with desire.

“Come with me,” Kathryn extended her hand, leading an expectant Borg to her bedroom.  Kathryn closed the door in an attempt to prevent the inevitable moans, sighs, and impassioned words from reaching Naomi’s ears.  She undressed her betrothed slowly, pausing to kiss each newly exposed area thoroughly, mesmerized by the stark beauty of her lover.

“Oh Seven,” she gasped, tracing the outline of her sculpted face, “you are exquisite,” she said the word like a prayer.  She grasped her love’s hands, looking at all of her, and not aware she was speaking, murmured “Oh my God, you are so beautiful.”

Seven bowed her head bashfully, blushing at the compliment.  She kissed Kathryn then, undressing her while they explored each other’s mouths, drinking in every discovery of the diminutive woman’s body, every sight, every texture.

“I will never tire of looking at you, my beautiful Kathryn,” she promised, dropping the last of Janeway’s clothing at their feet.  Then with perfect awareness, Seven pulled the smaller woman into her embrace, both women taking a shallow, sharp breath as skin touched skin.  They eased themselves down onto the downy quilt covering Kathryn’s bed, rolling over until Seven was hovering over the Captain, kissing her deeply, exploring the velvet interiors of her mouth, pressing her thigh between Kathryn’s legs.  Kathryn made a sound in the back of her throat that left Seven with a melting sensation between her legs.  Seven nearly devoured her lover’s throat, her need burning as she nipped at the sensitive flesh, her fierce passion driving Kathryn wild.

“Oh, Seven,” she hissed, “please, touch me now,” Kathryn implored.

Seven smiled against her shoulder, kissing the hollow there.  “Patience, my love,” she admonished.  “Anticipation, I have found, is delicious.”

Janeway groaned, pressing up against Seven’s thigh, the slickness of her desire bathing Seven’s flat abdomen.  Seven felt a hot rush of sensation where Kathryn’s wetness touched her, and an inadvertent growl escaped her lips.  She reached down, firmly gripping Kathryn’s buttocks, and teasingly lifted her hips off the bed, sliding Kathryn’s sex against her leg.  She moved her lover up and down the length of her quadriceps, the motion creating a maddening ache in the seat of Kathryn’s desire.  She was breathing hard, now, the beads of sweat gathering on her forehead.  Seven looked into her eyes, the need smoldering there.  “Tell me what you want, my love,” Seven urged her.

Kathryn slowly took her hand, and opening her legs, guided Seven’s touch to her throbbing folds.  “Touch me here,” she pleaded with her eyes.

“Like this?” Seven whispered, stroking the fullness that protruded.

“Oh yes…just like that.”

Seven stroked her gently, bringing her to the edge of her need repeatedly, only to ease her back from that edge to begin again.  Then sensing Kathryn was desperate for release, Seven moved down the length of Kathryn’s body, pushing her legs further apart, dropping her head to the sensitive bundle of nerves.  Kathryn cried out as Seven’s mouth surrounded her with its incredible heat and intensity, her hips rising inadvertently toward Seven’s lips.  She was panting now, her desire full upon her, riding the crest of that pleasure, suspended on that glorious edge for what seemed like an eternity, and crashing down again.  Seven cradled her then, whispering words of love and reassurance as the last vestiges of Kathryn’s climax ripped through her.  Resting against Seven’s chest, her breathing decreased in intensity, leaving a sleepy, comfortable exhaustion.  She listened to the strong, fast beats of Seven’s heart, realizing that Seven was fully aroused, ready for her.

Kathryn raised herself up on her arms, her lips finding Seven’s breast, the kisses fleeting and provocative.  Seven was fascinated by the sensation and by the sight of what her lover was doing to her.  Watching Kathryn love her intensified the sensation, she found.  Her analytical mind quickly disappeared as the experience became overwhelming, liquid fire burning everywhere Kathryn touched her.  She was moaning uncontrollably, in rhythm with Kathryn’s fingers, which penetrated her and danced against her walls.  Without warning, her peak was upon her and the shock waves broke over them as she clutched Kathryn to her, her voice ragged with catharsis.  Never in her life had she felt so vulnerable or trusted anyone so completely.

They held each other then, resting until their desire came back with a vengeance, and then the entire cycle starting over again.  They did in fact, make love all night.  When Seven awoke the next morning, Kathryn in her arms, she was so profoundly moved by the sight of her lover sleeping, it brought tears to her eyes.  She wanted nothing more than to wake up with this woman every day, to hold her every night, to make her laugh and allow her to cry, and to watch her sleep.  She felt protective of Kathryn in a way she had never felt for anyone, not even Naomi.  She wished she could absorb Kathryn into her, carry her essence inside herself, where it would always be cherished and safe.

Kathryn was surprised to find Seven staring at her when she finally awoke.  “Good morning,” she said in her throatiest voice, the timbre sending electric chills down Seven’s back.  “How long have you been watching me?”

“Not long enough,” Seven said with longing.  “You are so lovely when you sleep-so peaceful.”

Kathryn snuggled in closer, loathe to get out of bed, noticing she was a bit sore in various places, where certain muscles had not been used for the prior five years.  It made her painfully aware that she was a good deal older than Seven and briefly made her wonder how they would be together when she was in her sixties, and Seven in her prime.

Seven trailed delicate kisses across Kathryn’s forehead, cradling her protectively.  “You know,” she admitted, “if I had had any idea what I was missing by trying to abstain for your honor, I am sure I would have caved in in a nanosecond.”

Kathryn laughed quietly.  “Believe me when I tell you, the first time is never the best.  It will get better and better-wait and see.”

Seven shivered.  “If it gets any better than last night, I will most certainly not survive.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised what you will learn to endure,” Kathryn said in the deepest tone she could manage, which made Seven quiver.  “But just in case, I’d better look into sound proofing this room.  I hope we didn’t disturb Naomi.”

Seven’s eyes flew wide open.  “I forgot,” she began, panic in her voice as she searched for the chronometer.  “You are a bad influence on me, Kathryn,” she accused as she threw on her clothes from the previous night.  “Naomi will be late for school-and we are going to be late for alpha shift,” she fussed at the Captain.

Kathryn propped herself up on one arm, watching the Borg bustle around in her haste.  “Seven,” she patted the bed, “come here.”

“Have you taken leave of your senses?” she asked, ignoring Janeway’s invitation.  Then to Janeway’s astonishment, the Borg cursed a blue streak, no doubt something she’d heard B’Elanna say.  “Kahless’ balls on a Bat’leth, where are my shoes?”

Kathryn dissolved in a fit of laughter.  “Boy, that’s a humdinger,” she chortled.  “Remind me to speak to Lt. Torres about teaching you a more appropriate vocabulary.”

Seven shot her a look.  “You find this amusing?  I have been remiss in my responsibilities, and you are enjoying it?  Aren’t you disappointed in me?”

Janeway smiled.  “Well considering that I logged all three of us off duty today, there’s no reason to be overly self-recriminating, my love.”

Seven glared at her.  “You might have mentioned that before I went to warp,” she crossed her arms peevishly.

“And miss the rare sight of you actually being inefficient?” Janeway chuckled.

“There is no need to insult me, Kathryn,” Seven said petulantly.

“I’m sorry,” she laughed.  “It was just so damned cute,” she explained.

Seven stripped her clothes back off.  “Oh, so I’ve gone from being ‘exquisite’ to ‘cute’,” she complained.  “We shall see how ‘cute’ you think I am,” she turned to face her lover, the sight of her naked leaving Janeway speechless again.

“I withdraw that remark,” Janeway sighed appreciatively.  “You are exquisite.” Then contritely, “Am I forgiven?”

“Perhaps,” Seven replied coolly.  “But you will have to show me how sorry you are.”

Kathryn didn’t need a second invitation.
 
 

When Janeway strode onto the bridge the next morning, Chakotay grinned knowingly.  “Welcome back, Captain,” his voice oozed suggestiveness.  “I trust you enjoyed your day off?  You do look a bit tired though,” he needled her.

Kathryn leaned over to him, knowing she would only play into his hands if she denied what he was implying. She chose not to react.  “Thank you, Chakotay, I did enjoy it.  What’s our status?”

“Nothing to report, really.” He leaned closer to her.  “I suspect your day was much more eventful than the ship’s,” he refused to let it go.

 “Commander,” she said darkly, certain that no one else could hear her, “Imagine, if you will, the frustration of having been abstinent until your mid twenties, and then suddenly being involved,” she smirked. “All that pent up energy, all that youthful enthusiasm.  All unleashed at once, and imagine receiving that from someone as innocent, as curious, and as captivating as Seven,” she said in hushed tones, knowing she was torturing him.  Chakotay swallowed hard, imagining Janeway making love with Seven.  “And try to picture yourself wanting her with everything you are, and knowing that she would do anything to please you. Anything, Chakotay.  And everything.” The embarrassment edged its way from his collar to his ears.  He shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide the growing bulge in his pants.   Seeing the envy in his expression, she twisted the dagger deeper. “So forgive me if I look a little rough around the edges, but believe me, it was worth it.  May you be so lucky as to fall in love with a woman as passionate as Seven, someday.  I will surely be as gracious about it as you are being. But you’d better do it soon, before you’re too old to enjoy it, or to keep up with her.”  Janeway was seething with anger, but her first officer was oblivious.

 “That demanding?” he squeaked, knowing Kathryn could go for days without sleep, and that, if she were tired, Seven was giving her the challenge of her life.

“You can’t imagine,” Janeway smiled unmercifully, watching him

He gave her a forlorn look.  “I should be so lucky,” he agreed.

“Good.  Maybe from now on, you could keep your smart-ass remarks to a minimum?” she fixed him with a withering gaze, telling him in no uncertain terms that she had just grabbed him by the balls and jerked him around.

“I am truly sorry, Captain.  I meant no disrespect.”

“See that you never do, Commander.  I treasure what I have with Seven, and I do not intend to allow anyone to cheapen it with callous ignorance, or juvenile humor; nor is my sex life a topic for public consumption. And, for future reference, I am more than a little short tempered when I haven’t slept in two days,” she couldn’t resist that parting shot. “So be very careful what you say, especially about Seven.  I understand there are some anti-matter waste compartments that need cleaning.  I’d hate to have to squander your talents on menial tasks.”

Chakotay flinched at the warning tone in the Captain’s voice.  “Understood, Captain.”

Kathryn regarded him with a deadly anger. “Good.  Now please advise me of our status, as I ordered originally.”
 
 

Naomi Wildman entered the Astrometrics Lab, searching for Seven of Nine.  She could swear the Borg had eyes in the back of her head, as Seven’s neutral tone addressed her.  “Naomi Wildman,” Seven said without even looking to see who had entered.  “How may I assist you?”

“How do you always know it’s me?” she asked, dismayed.

Seven turned, arching an eyebrow.  “I am Borg,” she stated.  “I have enhanced senses.  I could hear your footsteps and recognized your gait.”

“Remind me never to play hide and seek with you,” Naomi rolled her eyes.

Seven of Nine scooped the girl into her arms.  “Naomi Wildman,” she said hugging her daughter, “do not ever play hide and seek with me,” she obligingly reminded her.

“No wonder Captain Janeway says you’re impossible,” Naomi hugger her back.

“Indeed,” Seven replied.  “She says that about me?”

“All the time.  She’s right, you know.”

“What brings you to visit?”

“Two things-no three.  One, don’t forget we’re playing Kadis-kot at lunch.  Two, I love you. Three, Captain Janeway’s twenty-fifth anniversary as a Starfleet Officer is next week, and we need to plan something special to celebrate.”

Seven grinned at her.  “One-I have idietic memory, so I would never forget our lunch date.  Two, I love you too.  Three, what do you have in mind for the Captain?”

Naomi screwed her face tight, racking her brains for ideas.  Seven set her back down on the deck.  “Well, Commander Chakotay is holding a surprise party in the mess hall, and he is giving her a commem-a comerat-a plaque to mark the occasion.”

“I believe the word you wanted is ‘commemorative’.”

“Yes, that’s the word,” Naomi agreed.  “So we can’t get her a plaque. Tuvok is giving her a Vulcan meditation chime, so that’s out.  I was thinking I might make something for her.”

Seven nodded approvingly.  “I am certain she will like that.”

“What are you going to give her, Seven?”

Seven frowned thoughtfully.  “I have no idea,” she admitted.  “I will have to give the matter serious consideration.”
 

The night of the party, Naomi cajoled her acting parents to go to dinner in the mess hall.  Seven pretended to object, so that Kathryn would not be suspicious, but agreed to mingle with the crew after some well-acted prodding from Naomi.  When the mess hall got Seven’s silent transmission of their approach, Neelix cut the lights and everyone hushed themselves.  The mess hall doors wooshed open, and the lights came on abruptly, as the crew yelled “Surprise!”

Janeway was caught completely off guard.  She glanced at the banner that heralded her 25th year of service to Starfleet.  “Oh my God, has it been that long?” she asked in disbelief.

Tuvok, who had known her since she was fresh out of the academy, responded with “Yes, Captain, it has, though one would never know, looking at you,” he said sincerely.

“Tuvok, you silver tongued devil,” she chided him, “you must be trying to get a promotion.”

He arched an eyebrow.  “I have no ambition to displace Commander Chakotay,” he argued.  Then with his usual dry humor, he added “Unless you have taken umbrage to his performance.”

The crew laughed loudly at Chakotay’s expense.  “Actually, Captain, this celebration was the Commander's idea.”

Chakotay lifted his champagne glass.  “Neelix did all the work,” he deflected the acknowledgement.

Janeway smiled fondly at her crew, accepting a glass of champagne from Tom Paris.  She toasted them, saying “I’ll gladly do another 25 years if I can have this crew.”  Everyone drank to that sentiment.  “Now please, everyone-enjoy yourselves, and let’s not dwell on how old 25 years of service makes me.”

“Congratulations, Kathryn,” Chakotay offered when the crowd had begun to spread out.

“Thank you.  This was a thoughtful gesture,” she waved her arm, indicating the party.

He grinned boyishly.  “Hey, I had to do something to get off the top of your shit list,” he advised.  Then seriously, he added “I am sorry for the inappropriate remarks I made to you.  I would hate to think I had damaged our friendship through my careless, presumptuous familiarity with you.  I have the utmost respect for you, Captain, and I crossed a line I should never have been anywhere near.  Can you forgive me?”

Janeway slipped her arm through his.  “On one condition,” she hid an evil smile.

“Name it,” he agreed, squeezing her arm.

“Stand up with me at my wedding.  I may need a strong arm to support my faltering legs.”

He took both her hands, smiling broadly, then kissed her cheek.  “I would be honored.  But what am I supposed to do if you get cold feet and run screaming from the altar?”

Seven had crept up on them, and interjected “You had better tackle her, Commander, or I will be very, very displeased,” she said menacingly.

“Careful Chakotay,” Janeway warned.  “If you think I’m hard to handle when I’m mad, you haven’t seen anything until you’ve seen a pissed off Borg with enhanced strength.  But I rather suspect if anyone runs away screaming, it will be Seven,” Janeway chuckled softly, pulling the Borg’s arm through her own.

Seven looked down at her beloved with unadulterated devotion.  “Not a chance,” she assured everyone listening.  Then showing her budding humor, she added “and I’ve already arranged to have the exits covered by shot-gun wielding Borg drones, in case you have second thoughts.”

The people within earshot roared at that.  Seven smiled with satisfaction.  She was finally getting a handle on this humor thing.  Janeway looked up at her adoringly, cognizant of just how far Seven had come since her liberation from the collective.  It filled her with pride, and made her love the young woman even more, if that were possible.

When the Captain was pressed into opening her gifts, Seven of Nine had given her a framed photograph of them, with Naomi, on a shore leave they had taken together.  Kathryn promised the assembled group that the photo would be on her desk by morning.  No one seemed to take notice when the Captain kissed her intended in front of everyone.  Except Naomi, who grinned from ear to ear and repressed the urge to applaud.

Later that night in their quarters, Seven of Nine was holding Kathryn on the couch, both stretching luxuriously together.  Seven kissed the top of Kathryn’s head, breathing in the fragrance of her hair.  “There is something else I want to give you,” Seven informed her.

Kathryn looked up at her, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.  “Do tell,” she encouraged.

“I must get up to retrieve it,” Seven explained.  “Do not pout,” she scolded the Captain, “I will be right back.  Keep my place warm.”  Seven went to her seldom used room and came back with another gift.  “I was reading about matrimonial tradition,” she explained as a prelude to the second gift.  “According to what I read, ancient earth tradition was that upon agreeing to marry, the party that asked the other to enter into the conjugal state presented their betrothed with an ‘engagement’ ring, made of the most precious stone-a diamond, back then, and rare metals.”  She handed Janeway the box.

Janeway unwrapped it, and opened the handcarved wooden box.  Inside lay a band of pure platinum, with a perfect dilithium crystal inlaid in the band.  “I reasoned that since diamonds are common, now, dilithium would be considered the most precious stone, especially for Voyager.”

“Oh, Seven,” Janeway examined the ring with awe, realizing that her lover had probably spent hundreds of replicator rations to obtain such a substantial crystal.  “It is beautiful.”

Seven smiled then, and got down on bended knee.  She took Kathryn’s hand in her own, and with obvious nervousness,  in a barely audible whisper, said “Kathryn Janeway, I will love you as long as I draw breath.  You are the embodiment of all that I value in this life.  You are the completion of my very spirit, and the best part of all I am or shall ever be.  Will you marry me, Kathryn?”

Janeway felt tears slipping down her cheeks, moved beyond words.  Finally, she found her voice.  “Yes, Seven, I will marry you,” she responded, knowing that this pledge would be the most sacrosanct of her life.  She held the face of her lover in her hands, capturing her lips.  Then brushing away Seven’s tears, she proclaimed, “I love you with all my heart, and will do so for all of my days.”

Seven removed the ring from its’ velvet nest, carefully placing it on Kathryn’s delicate ring finger.  Kathryn admired it again, still staggered by the sheer opulence, and captivated by the pristine beauty of it.  “I have never had anything this valuable before.  You designed it?”

“Yes.  It is simple, I admit, but the curvature of the band made me think of your pleasing curves, and the durability of the metal made me think of your strength of character.  The light bending properties of the crystal reminded me of the sparkle you get in your eyes when I am flirting with you.  And the purity of the stone symbolizes the perfection of the love I feel for you.  I guess you would never draw those conclusions just from looking at the ring.”

 Janeway was unable to speak.  The depth of the emotion in the supposedly cold woman before her rendered her vocal chords useless.  She could only peer fiercely into Seven’s eyes, and kiss her with every iota of being that she possessed.  When words failed her, her lips and hands did not, and she spent the rest of the night showing Seven the feelings that could not be reduced to mere words.

When the morning watch crept up on the tangled lovers, Janeway studied the intricate fractal lights in the dilithium, which was channel set in her engagement ring.  She cradled Seven close, wondering if they ever would have found the path to each other, if not for Naomi Wildman and the circumstances that fell upon them all.   She silently thanked Samantha Wildman for the gift of her child, and for finding a way to bring Seven to her with such profound effect that she could not ever walk away, not for duty, not for honor, not for anything.
 

Epilogue

Naomi Wildman sat next to the biobed where her mother lay, regarding the life sign readouts that never seemed to change.  The Doctor was recommending that they put Samantha in stasis until a suitable treatment could be devised.  Janeway agreed it would be prudent, but had made it abundantly clear that nothing of the sort would be done unless Naomi agreed to it.  If being able to see her mother brought even the slightest comfort to her foster daughter, she would gladly allocate the resources for Samantha’s life support for as long as they travelled.

“You do not have to decide this minute,” Seven rested her hand on Naomi’s shoulder as she spoke.

Kathryn placed her hand on Naomi’s other shoulder.  “We don’t want you to do anything that will make this harder, sweetie,” the throaty voice had a catch in it.

Naomi nodded.  “The Doctor has shown me the data, and the probability of a spontaneous recovery is almost zero.  At least if she is in stasis, she will not get any worse.”  Naomi reached out for her mother’s hand, kissing it.  “I love you, Mommy,” she whispered.  “You sleep now.  Have sweet dreams.”  With all the maturity she could muster, the Bridge Assistant turned to the Doctor.  “Do it,” was all she said.  Seven noted with pride that her voice and mannerisms were exactly like the Captain’s, and Seven could not think of a more appropriate role model.