"Epiphany"
 

Disclaimer: This is a fictional story involving same gendered consenting
adults. If that offends you, I'm sorry. But we, as human beings, don't
have the luxury of choosing whom we fall in love with. It was written
for fun, discussion and the compilation of artistic thoughts, etc.

If you are opposed to homosexuality, under the legal age for your area
of residence or the material contained herein is illegal in your country,
province, municipality, etc. please do not proceed any further.

The characters of Star Trek Voyager and other Star Trek: are protected
by copyrights owned or controlled by Paramount Pictures Corporation.

NOTES: Thanks so much to my beta readers, Mistie and Betty, for being
wonderful, and bailing me out of yet another tight spot. Smooches.

Thank you also to psylocke for the use of her disclaimer statement. I
altered it a tad to suit my purposes. But I don't think she'll mind.

The song, "You're the One" is copyright The Carpenters. I find it to be
one of the most beautiful love songs I've ever heard. And it whispered
to me, "Janeway, Seven, Janeway, Seven, Janeway, Seven..." <vbg>.

Feedback is welcomed. Be honest. No flames. That's not nice.
 

"Epiphany" J/7 [PG-13]

by Angela McNelly (angelamcnelly@yahoo.com)

Captain Kathryn Janeway stood in the quarters of her, soon to be, official ship's counselor. Her surroundings were as peaceful and inviting as the kind, warm eyes that gazed upon her, filled with love and wisdom, patiently awaiting her next words.

She spoke softly but with a pride and confidence that followed this compact
yet formidable powerhouse wherever she went. "Daynar, I hereby grant you
the battlefield commission of lieutenant, with all the authority and privileges associated with said rank."

Six months earlier Voyager had encountered a Delta Quadrant race of beings that were surprisingly amiable, having eager willingness to trade goods and share the beauty of their planet with the crew.

One afternoon, while the captain was enjoying a much deserved bit of shore leave, a tall and almost intimidatingly large Kataan native approached her, politely asking for a moment of her time. When she first laid eyes on him as he walked toward her, his  towering stature caused her to entertain thoughts of an emergency beam out. But the apparent peacefulness in his countenance and the calming effect of his tone kept her rooted in place, compelled to look and listen, hanging on each of his words.

He was 'a gentle giant' she mused.

He introduced himself, explaining that he was seeking passage through space, not to any particular destination but just to appease his desire to explore and perhaps use his knowledge and skills to help other beings throughout the quadrant with their struggles in living and dying. This request not only excited Janeway at the prospect of gaining a much needed crew member but it also intrigued her because his motives for space travel were very honorable ones, a refreshing change for the Delta Quadrant. She inquired of him if he were a doctor or a counselor of some sort. He explained that since he was only one hundred eleven years old he wasn't yet considered by his people to be an elder. But he was skilled in the area of healing the mind and inner self, being required by his people to study and practice his abilities until he reached the age of one hundred twenty-five before he would be considered an elder and be allowed to put his training into use among the general population. His planet, however, had an abundance of healers due to their capacity for long life, about two hundred years. Meaning, even after he would've attained eldership his talents wouldn't be in high demand. So, vehemently believing it to be poor stewardship to waste time and techniques where they weren't needed, he decided he would take his determination and concern into space.

He could've taken one of his people's spacecraft, free to journey at any time he liked but was trying to anticipate the right opportunity. Now that Voyager had arrived, he recognized this to be the opportunity he'd been awaiting, if the captain was willing to grant his request.

Voyager had suffered in dire need of a ship's counselor for over six years
since they'd been lost in the Delta Quadrant. Janeway wasn't about to let this opportunity pass her by. She was glad to grant his request. After doing so, Voyager broke orbit from Kataan with a cargo bay full of supplies and a welcomed addition to her crew complement.

Daynar, son of Raynol was for the most part eagerly accepted by the crew. The possible exception being Chakotay, who though threatened by Daynar's obvious kinship with the captain, still couldn't help finding himself drawn to the Kataan's shaggy non-threatening appearance, which seemed to engender the most uncanny confidence from the rest of the crew. And soon, even Chakotay realized Daynar's affinity toward the captain was of the purest intent and concern, more like a father for his daughter than anything else.

Janeway wanted to install him in the position of ship's counselor shortly after he came aboard. But Daynar insisted on completing the required studies and any training that was needed for him to be a Starfleet Officer and then the ship's counselor. He felt it was of extreme importance that he show respect
to the crew's protocols and obtain a Starfleet rank to ensure, in the event he'd have to exercise the authority of his position, there wouldn't be any question
as to his right to that authority. The complete confidence of the crew was essential to his restorative success in their times of adversity. If Voyager's journey was to be a long one, he wanted to be ready for anything.

So now, poised before his captain and his friend, he was preparing to receive his new rank and assignment.

"Furthermore, I officially establish you as Voyager's ship counselor." She smiled warmly. "And may God have mercy on your soul."

Janeway chuckled as she placed the two pips on his collar.

"Thank you for your concern Captain," he said in an overly appreciative tone.

"Don't mention it." She waved her hand attempting to keep the mood a light one.

But Daynar would have nothing of it. He grasped the hand that she waved
in front of him and pressed it to his massive chest, noticing her facial expressions become wistful as she felt the powerful organ that pumped
the life's blood through his body, beating strong beneath her delicate touch.

His gentle gaze searched her deeply. "What is it E'lan?"

'He is the ultimate protector,' she thought, 'a warm, loving sentinel who seems to be at my side every time I need. So like my father and so not like him.'

She sighed, "You know... I've come to depend on you. You've become like a father to me." In a softer, almost agonizing cadence, "I don't want the Starfleet rank to come between us, like it's separated me from others I love."

In that statement, she had admitted so much, exposing herself with her words, risking a huge leap of faith. Kathryn Janeway wasn't in the habit of openly acknowledging her needs and fears. In doing so she triggered, at the core of his being, the certainty that this response above all others, needed to be as close to perfect as mortally possible.

His reflecting eyes were like looking into a flame, sorrel and dancing. When she couldn't look any longer, she gently pulled her hand from his grip, and moved to stare through his oval window at the elongated stars streaking by.

He paused for a moment, giving her the space she needed to regroup and himself the time he needed to compose the thoughts that were enfolding his mind. When he was sure of his course of action, he inhaled a breath, holding it as he slowly moved up behind her. His left arm eased its way across the front of her shoulders, pulling her into an embrace. She tilted her head to one side, resting her cheek on his bicep, relaxing into the safety of his encircling warmth. Bending slightly, he placed his lips and chin on the top of her head, while continuously trailing his fingers through her fiery strands, guiding them behind her right ear as he spoke.

"I have a story to tell you, my sweet E'lan," he whispered into her hair. "Long ago I had a wonderful, lovely creature I was privileged to call my wife." Raising his head to stare longingly out the window, he mused with pride, "Her name was F'nala. We loved each other more than life itself, sharing and sustaining one for another. One day, she came to me and announced that she was carrying our child, our first. My heart nearly stopped beating from my joy as
I became lightheaded because in my giddy state I had forgotten to breathe."

He chuckled at the memory. His attentive listener laughed with him, snuggling deeper into his embrace, squeezing his arm with honest affection.

"I wasn't always this wise. I nearly fainted from lack of oxygen."

This comment elicited further laughter from his companion, which made him smile. He held her tighter, turning his head to rest his cheek lovingly on the top of her head. Pausing for a long moment, he fought back the tears that were beginning to fill his eyes.

"Having someone to share your dreams with, your secrets with, your life with is an undeniable need. Your soul feels it. Your mind tries to understand it. E'lan... " he paused, "you know this to be true."

"Yes," she replied, her voice becoming heavy with emotion as her thoughts drifted over the ivory skin, through the golden hair, and into the smoldering blue eyes of a certain Borg she knew.

"Unfortunately, whatever it was we could've built together, it wasn't meant to be. For shortly before she was ready to deliver, my wife was taken by a longtime enemy of my people, tortured and beaten, for no other reason except that this was the practice of the Kat Rebels, a crazed offshoot of the Kataan."

Kathryn stiffened in his embrace. "Oh... Daynar, I... I'm sorry." She rubbed her cheek against the powerful limb comforting her, in an attempt to do the same for him.

"The shear brutality of it all sickened me. My species is extremely resistant to many forms of physical trauma. So when our doctor informed me that F'nala would die from her injuries, I was in shock. I felt sick in my stomach, in my heart, in my head while she squeezed my hand and her bereaving eyes bore into me. Those eyes... I will never forget those knowing eyes, knowing that
we had been cheated, cheated of everything most dear to us, nor will I ever forget her plea: 'Deliver our daughter,' she said. 'Raise her... tell her about
her mother... love her enough for both of us. Promise me!' I promised, as I watched the precious sparkle in her ever loving, ever empowering eyes, dim and go out." His breathing grew ragged with the crushing pain of his memory. "I nodded to the doctor and she removed our child from her mother. She was
a sweetly adorable little bundle, with slate gray eyes and wispy, cerise hair, just like her mother. 'A girl,' the doctor announced. 'But I am sorry to inform you that she has also passed.'"

As he paused to gather his escaping emotions, Kathryn could feel his jaw flexing against her hair in his extreme effort. She remained silent, knowing
that she could do nothing but what she was already doing.

"I named her E'lan."

Kathryn drew her breath sharply, turning in his arms to look upon a tearful face, filled with love and adoration.

"E'lan means, to be vigorous and to have courage. She would've been both,
as are you. I told you this story because I wanted you to be sure of how much you mean to me, Kathryn. You are my living E'lan. If you love me like you would love a father, then I am gratified beyond all words. Nothing will ever change that, certainly not the pips on my collar."

As the tears rolled down her cheeks, she blinked, trying to clear her vision but still more tears came. She didn't know what was left to say, if anything. So she surrendered to her feelings, gently leaning against his massive form, with a welcomed cleansing sob of relief and a sense of total trust that he had placed at the center of her soul.

"Time?"

"Thirty seconds."

"Let's see it."

The view screen on the bridge of Voyager displayed the expansive presence of an approaching, greenish particle density anomaly.  About to engulf the ship was a class nine neutronic wave front, expanding across nearly three light years of space. There was no way for Voyager to avoid the storm. So the crew braced themselves and prepared for the worst, hoping for the best.

"All hands, this is the captain. Secure your stations and brace for impact."

She glanced back, looking for her ship's counselor who was conspicuously absent. It was not like Daynar to be away from the bridge at a time like this. He had become invaluable to the crew in times of crisis, being looked up to by many for his ability to see the silver lining in every situation. He and the captain had become a wonderful team, each emanating certain qualities that caused the ship to function under circumstances that would have crippled any other vessel. Janeway exuded confidence and total control of a situation, while Daynar conveyed a warmth and peace that defied fear, almost taunting the emotion, daring it to try invading his Voyager family.

"Computer locate Counselor Daynar," Janeway requested.

Oblivious to the risky situation unfolding around it, the computer answered in its normal non-fluctuating feminine tone, "Counselor Daynar is in the Astrometrics Lab."

'Good,' Janeway thought. There were few besides herself that she would trust to protect Seven. But Daynar was one of the few. She took some small comfort in the fact that the two people she cared for the most were together
to watch each other's back in case all hell broke loose.

The captain was torn from her musings as the massive cloud announced its arrival by crashing into the ship, tossing and jolting her and the crew, leaving behind in its wake, more than its fair share of destruction. As things finally began to settle down, damage reports were transmitted from several areas
of the ship.

"We've cleared the leading edge. Turbulence is decreasing. Shields are holding," Tuvok reported.

"Damage!" Janeway barked taking a liberal draw of breath, and rearranging her command mask.

"We've got a ruptured plasma conduit on deck nine and a hull breach in Astrometrics," Ensign Kim replied.

"What!?" The captain pressed her combadge. "Janeway to Seven of Nine."

No answer.

With panic nagging inside her, "Seven, please respond!"

No answer.

"Janeway to Daynar."

No answer.

"Force fields are in place and holding Captain," Kim reassured.

"Send a repair team! I'm going down there. Maintain yellow alert. Chakotay you have the bridge."

When she arrived in Astrometrics, it was a mess. Janeway found no Seven and no Daynar, just repair teams beginning their various tasks.

She closed her eyes, saying a silent prayer to whoever might be listening, before she made her inquiry.

"Computer locate Seven of Nine and Counselor Daynar."

The computer generated feminine tones replied, "Seven of Nine and Counselor Daynar are in sickbay."

The captain let out her breath with a gush, "Thank God!"

She hurried on to sickbay to find the Doctor frowning over Seven and a somewhat haggard looking Daynar holding her hand, stroking her blonde disarrayed hair, and mumbling something in her ear. His dark brown mane
had come out of its customary ponytail, falling around his shoulders and
face making him look even larger than usual. He was facing Janeway, which allowed her to see the large gash across the three prominent ridges that ran
in a double arching fashion from the center of his forehead, swooping gracefully outward and tapering off at his temples. Seven was unconscious
on a bio bed, seemingly lifeless and extremely pale, with a nasty looking
bruise over the Borg implant of her left eye.

Janeway approached briskly and nodded at Daynar, not managing to conceal her concern from his knowing eyes. "Report," she said softly to the Doctor.

"It's rather serious Captain. Daynar can fill you in on the details." the Doctor answered, not looking up from his work.

She motioned to Daynar to step aside with her.

"Captain, it's not good. When we hit the storm front I was struck in the forehead with some flying debris. Seven came over to help me when the hull breach occurred. I managed to grab her and hold onto a console until the emergency force fields sealed the breach but in the process her head struck
the bulkhead." He paused, clearing the lump from his throat, "E'lan... her
neck was broken."

Janeway's head jerked up and pinned him with a disbelieving glare.

"I know! I know!" He admonished himself. "I brought her here as soon as it was physically possible."

The captain touched his shoulder in support. "I know you did. Is there any permanent damage?"

"The Doc has already repaired the fractured vertebra. But he says that some damage was done to her cortical implant, causing a malfunction in the bio neural connections to the right side of her brain. He's having trouble determining the extent of damage to her spinal cord because of the damage
to her implant. He needs B'Elanna to assist him with the surgery."

She quickly slapped her combadge. "Janeway to Lieutenant Torres, report to sickbay immediately and bring any instruments you'll need for repairing Seven's implants."

"Acknowledged Captain. On my way."

Grabbing a dermal regenerator, Janeway made quick work of the laceration on Daynar's forehead, watching as the deep purple colored flesh was healed and faded to its normal bronze hue.

"You won't make me any prettier with that thing you know," he quipped. He could always make her smile no matter how grave the situation, this time being no exception. "Go to her E'lan," he whispered. "She needs all the love she can get right now. And you'll just look like the concerned captain everyone knows you to be."

She searched his eyes, at first to chastise him for broaching a subject that was off limits, but then instead to quietly thank him for the little piece of heaven that would probably help her more than it would Seven. Turning from him, she moved over to Seven's side, and lovingly stroked the angel soft hair that had been thrown out of its confines by the ordeal. Kathryn's breath caught for an instant. She had dreamed many times of freeing this spun gold from its tight twist and running her fingers though it over and over again. Her chest ached and she was heart sick at the possibility of getting Seven back a fraction of the vibrant young woman that she once was or, God forbid, not getting her back at all.

"Seven... it's Kathryn. Stay with me sweetheart. Please stay with me," she murmured. Cupping the young woman's jaw in the palm of her hand, she gently ran her thumb over the adorable cleft in Seven's chin, all the time silently praying for a second chance to let her friend know the depths of her true feelings. Kathryn continued to whisper words of love and encouragement
until Torres breezed into sickbay and the private moment was over.

As Janeway backed away from Seven, she once again composed her trusty captain's mask and called to the Doctor who had been preparing for the chief engineer's arrival. "Keep me informed of your progress Doctor."

"Of course Captain."

She turned to leave but Daynar caught her on the way out. "You're not staying, E'lan?" he earnestly questioned. "She could die!"

"You know I can't," she warned.

"Ahhh... yes. Heaven forbid you come to and do the right thing," he needled her, being as close to angry as his nature would allow.

"Don't push me lieutenant! You stay with her," she bristled.

"I intend to, Captain," he said to her retreating backside, purposely emphasizing her rank.

Three days later the captain found herself in sickbay once again, this time under totally different but still unpleasant circumstances. Tom Paris was sitting on a bio bed bleeding from a cut over his eye, while the Doctor went about treating various other cuts and scrapes on the Ensign.

"What happened this time, Tom?" she huffed as a smirk played at the corners of her mouth.

"Ohhh, one of Fair Haven's characters got out of hand at the pub. I think I might have to reprogram his matrix."

Just then the doors to sickbay slid open to admit a bruised and bloody Neelix, being assisted by Seven and an equally shabby looking Harry Kim, being assisted by Daynar.

"My Lord! Is this all from the same incident?" Janeway asked in moderate amusement.

"Afraid so Captain. The Michael Sullivan hologram went berserk. He was... a..." Harry stammered when a now completely recovered Ensign Paris poked him in the ribs. "He was looking for someone."

The Doctor glared at Counselor Daynar. "I thought when I released Seven
into your care you assured me she would rest. I hardly call participating in a bar room brawl, resting!"

"We weren't 'participating'. And we *were* relaxing until the free-for-all began with Ensign Kim being tossed across our table," Daynar protested. "We couldn't very well just stand by while Neelix and Harry were pummeled by the crazy Irishmen."

"Neelix, if you require no further assistance, I will leave you now. I have other affairs to attend to." Seven was visibly agitated and obviously wanted to be any place else but sickbay.

"Sure Seven. Thank you." The Talaxian smiled and nodded at her in appreciation.

"Wait right there Seven," the Doctor called in an authoritative tone. "I want to examine you to make sure you are none the worse for wear, before you leave."

"I'm sorry Doctor." Pain flashed through her eyes as they locked on Janeway for an instant.

The captain could see she was in distress of some sort but refused to acknowledge the guilt haunting the back of her mind.

The ex-borg refocused on the Doctor. "I will not comply."

"Seven..." Daynar interceded.

"I do not wish to stay here any longer. You know where I will be, Daynar."
She turned abruptly and darted out of sick bay, with the doors slamming shut behind her, before he could say anything further.

The Doctor shook his head and mumbled something about lousy patients as he resumed his attentions to the others.

Janeway stared pensively after Seven but maintained her position, trying not to act as uncomfortable as she felt.

"What was that all about?" she asked, already having a pretty good idea of the answer but hoping to seem oblivious.

"Captain, a moment of your time in private, please."

"Certainly, Counselor."

They exited to a surgical bay in the rear. Daynar drew a deep preparatory breath and turned to look upon the captain with dismay and utter disappointment.

"Kathryn, what in the name of all that is good and decent did you think you were doing?" he asked in exasperation.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, don't be coy."

Challenging him, "I don't remember giving you permission to speak freely, lieutenant."

"I hate to break this to you missy, but I don't *need* your permission. Now you listen to me. Seven was with me in the holodeck when your lover boy got drunk and started calling your name, babbling on about how much he loves you, after starting a brawl and then climbing a tree in the town square. It was pathetic. I just thought I'd bring it to your attention that all you managed to do with this little escapade, is deeply injure the one person that loves you more than anyone you'll ever know. So the next time you feel the need to frolic, why don't you frolic your captain's butt down to cargo bay two and share yourself with the one who you really should be sharing yourself with."

She opened her mouth in rebuttal.

But he cut her off. "No... no! You just listen for once." In a softer tone he pleaded, "Kathryn, you are the best leader I've ever seen. But your command
of your personal life could sure use some help. That's what I'm good at. The time is now, E'lan. Don't lose your best chance at true love just because of some silly self-imposed protocol that in fact has a negative effect on the way you captain this ship. If you do, you'll regret it for the rest of your days." He gave her elbow a gentle squeeze and turned, leaving to go find Seven.

As the doors leading into cargo bay two ground open, Daynar could see the lovely athletic form of Seven pacing back and forth like a caged cybernetic lioness, with her golden mane still slightly mussed from her ordeal in the holodeck. She stopped to lean forward against her work station not even looking up to acknowledge his entrance.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm functioning."

"Mmm... that good huh?"

He approached her to put his hand on her shoulder and offer some comfort.

"Do not touch me!" She drew a ragged breath. "I'm having difficulty and your assistance will only serve to cause additional discomfort."

He pulled his hand away. "You're feeling Human, vulnerable."

"I do not wish to feel 'Human'. I am Borg. Borg do not feel vulnerable." She flexed her jaw and convulsively gripped her console.

Cautiously, he searched her feelings. "I know you're hurting Annika."

"Do not call me that! It is not my designation."

Softly he implored her, "You're right. It's not your designation. It's your name. The name of my friend, whom I love. Please... let me take care of you."

She shrugged him off as he tried to touch her again. "No! I do not require your assistance. I do not need you to 'take care of me'."

"And why not? No one in your life ever has. Don't you think it's time?"

Refusing to look at him, she wouldn't answer.

Knowing that her emotions needed to be set free, he pressed on in hopes of starting a chain reaction that would allow the healing process to begin. "At first there was Annika, the ignored and neglected sweet, little girl, not to blame for having parents so self-absorbed and lost in their work that they couldn't see how they were about to destroy their child's life. Then came Seven of Nine, the Borg drone, invincible but insignificant, again neglected and lost in the shuffle of voices and technology. Then came Seven of Nine, the newly severed ex-drone, now individual who was terrified and once again alone in trying to understand the nature of her existence and whether or not there was a single place or time where she could do more than just survive. Finally, came Seven, Annika, my friend. What are you now? Alone? Don't you think it's time? Don't you think it's your turn to have someone take care of you, love you, nurture you, and be loyal to you?"

He placed a soft, yet persistent palm on her cheek covering the star burst implant that was nestled there. She instinctively angled her face toward his touch, drinking in the compassion he so lovingly offered and she so intensely craved.

"Let me help you," he begged. "I desperately want you to experience the joy of what it is to be made whole by the love of another. I know that other is Kathryn."

Carefully grasping her shoulders, he nudged her around to face him. As she looked openly into his eyes, the agony in her own pierced his soul and threatened to tear the swelling emotions from his already tormented chest.

Her pain began to wash over her. Tears trailed down her cheeks.  For the first time in her life at a loss for solutions, she questioned, "It is all so confusing... why? Why has she done this?"

He gathered her up into his arms, as if she were a delicate childlike being and rubbed her back as sobs began to jar her body. "Oh Annika..." he heaved a sigh, "this callous universe was never meant for one as beautiful as you."

While he held her close and waited for her to cry herself out, he remained silent, knowing that this must be the first time she had ever allowed herself
to be comforted so completely. He had often marveled at her tenacious will
and her refusal to cave in to her loneliness, no matter what. It was, most assuredly, that specific trait which had allowed her to persevere this long without losing her mind. This young woman had experienced more in her short thirty years than most would in a lifetime. She was indeed very special. Despite his experience and because of his wisdom he constantly remained in awe of her, a woman-child with enough grace and strength to seemingly support the whole universe.

"Hey?" he soothed. "Kathryn is lost and lonely also, being unable or unwilling
to come to you because she is afraid, afraid of rejection or the crew's non-acceptance of your having a relationship with her or any number of
things. She loves you too you know. She just needs a little more time."

A laugh full of irony mixed with release bubbled from her throat into the fabric covering his chest.

She looked up into his rugged visage. "I believe that can be arranged. Time seems to be a phenomenon of which we have a sufficient quantity. I have waited this long. I'm capable of continuing in this manner indefinitely.
However, I do not have to like it."

A gentle chuckle escaped his lips. "And the courage to smile through her tears. You are a wonder Seven of Nine." He squeezed her shoulders and gave them a loving shake. "Come home with me. I'm starving. You can make that salad for us that Neelix showed you and *finally* teach me how to play that game you've been promising. What did you call it?"

"Kadis-kot."

"Yes that's it, Kadis-kot. What do you say? Resistance is futile," he teased.

She grinned. "I will comply."

Seven and Daynar spent the rest of her recovery period discussing the captain, playing Kadis-kot, laughing, crying, and just finally having a genuine chance to begin feeling. It was an extraordinary growing time for Seven, who had been freer in those few days than she could ever remember. But it was time to return to duty and the constant bombardment of casual indifference from the crew she called family.

"It is unfortunate that Kathryn did not choose to spend this time with us," Seven sighed with regret.

"Ahh. Was I really that boring?" he quipped.

The protective mask of Borg passiveness softened marginally and her eyes took on a glow which hinted at the fondness she held for him safely tucked away in the center of her being.

"You know my feelings," she said honestly.

"I know. I was just trying to break through that stiff Borg mien, to my favorite part of you." He smiled, "And it worked."

Startled that her defenses had automatically dropped in order to reassure him of her feelings, she worried, "You realize, if you pry in such a way in front of the others, you will injure me."

Reaching across the small table in his quarters, he took her hand and slowly ran his thumb over her knuckles while he reassured her, "Of course I know that. I'd never put you in such a position in front of the crew. But, you must also realize that your relationships with these people you consider family won't grow any further if you don't lower that Borg barrier just a little, allowing them a glimpse of the wonderful creature behind the mask. Because eventually, your remoteness will injure you as well."

She sighed and averted her gaze, avoiding having to look directly into those seemingly all knowing eyes.

He gave her hand a little squeeze to get her to look at him. "I won't push you. You have to do this in your own time. I just want you to accept that you *must* do it. Okay?"

Her lower lip quivered slightly as she swallowed a few tears. "I will comply."

He smiled, "If you only knew how sweet you sound when you use such Borg phrasing thoroughly laced with emotion."

"I'm pleased you are enjoying my discomfort," she replied sarcastically.

"Oh Annika, you know better than that."

His door chime startled both of them from the depths of their conversation.

He finished quickly, "You know you can come to me any time. That I would never turn you away?"

She nodded, trying to compose herself.

The chime sounded a second time.

"I love you," he beamed and then turned his attention toward the door. "Come in."

An auburn headed bundle of nerves stepped through the doorway.

"E'lan! What a pleasant surprise!"

Seven was still busy collecting her scattered emotions, albeit not very efficiently. Daynar's 'I love you' had so fully warmed her that when she finally looked up at the captain the glow, like the sun, in her sky-blue eyes, was so clearly visible it took Kathryn's breath away, making her a lot less sure of what she was about to do.

Daynar could see her uncertainty and not sure if she would change her mind or not, he made the decision for her by walking over and pulling her along to sit down with them at the table.

"Seven was about to make her famous Chef Salad for me."

"I believe the word you are looking for is infamous," Seven corrected.

The captain grinned in amazement at how relaxed her usually staunch astrometrics officer had become. 'It looks incredibly attractive on her',
Janeway thought as a light flush reddened her neck and crept up to her
cheeks, threatening to reveal her passionate musings to the young woman.

"As I recall, after I explained what eggs were, your exact words were, 'ewwww... hold the eggs. I don't want to eat anything that has to do with
the menstrual cycle of a chicken'."

At this point the captain erupted into riotous laughter, putting her hand over her mouth in a vain attempt at containing her outburst.

"Ahh... I see where this is going. I finally get two gorgeous women in my quarters at the same time and all they want to do is make fun of me. That is my kind of fortune."

"Awww... poor baby. Maybe we should kiss him and make it all better." She nodded at Seven and both women leaned over at the same time and gave him
a peck on each cheek.

"Did that succeed in mending your wounded ego?" Seven inquired in jest, reveling in the captain's laughter, and her smile, and her willingness to team
up against their friend in a test of wits.

"Uhm... it's getting there. More please."

Janeway eyed him narrowly. "Don't press your luck mister!"

"Oh no, I wouldn't think of it." He graced or actually cursed the captain with
an evil grin that made him look a lot like a hairy vampire. "How about staying for an early dinner young lady?"

"I hate it when you do that." She wrinkled up her nose. "It makes the hair
stand up on the back of my neck."

"Well, stay and eat with us and I promise I won't do it again... tonight," he added.

A sheepish grin touched the captain's lips, filling her countenance with warmth and causing her eyes to twinkle.

"Actually, I came here to ask Seven if she wanted to spend tonight, with me." Realizing how that didn't come out quite right, "I mean have dinner with me tonight."

"She knew what you meant E'lan," he tormented her.

The captain gave him a threatening look.

"Ow!" He jumped a little and reached down to rub the leg to which Seven had just firmly landed a kick.

She burrowed into him with her best Borg stare. "I see that your leg is cramping again. If your discomfort continues you will be in need of assistance from the Doctor," she warned.

"No. It's amazing! When I keep my mouth shut the cramp goes away," he said in faked astonishment.

"Indeed," Seven smirked.

"So what do you say, Seven? Holodeck two. 1900 hours. I made up a surprise for you I think you'll enjoy."

Pain flashed across her face as she remembered the captain's recent holodeck excursions. "Kathryn, I'm unsure as to whether that is an acceptable offer. My last holodeck experience was... not very pleasant."

Janeway's expression softened. Seven's distaste for the holodeck and the use of the captain's given name did not go unnoticed. It was a testament to how much Kathryn's indiscretions had hurt the young woman. Continuing in much gentler tones, she tried again, "I know Annika. And I am sorry.  I promise that you'll thoroughly enjoy my surprise. Trust me. Holodeck two. 1900 hours. Dress comfortably. Shoes are optional."

Seven raised the eyebrow which was hidden under her ocular implant, only serving to make the gesture even more intense than it already was. "Very well, Kathryn. I look forward to your 'surprise'."

"Good. See you then."

As she stood and prepared to leave, she winked at Daynar, and he also stood to embrace her before she left. She squeezed his hand, not releasing it until their arms were stretched out as she walked toward the door.

"And I'll see you tomorrow."

Threatening to burst with pride, he smiled and nodded as he let her go.

Ever since leaving Daynar's quarters the captain couldn't stop herself from remembering how Seven looked: powerful, confident but softer, with her shoulders set at ease and her usually masked emotions bubbling to the surface. It set Kathryn on fire, aching with a need stronger than she had ever felt for another. Desires that she had long denied played through her mind: the titillating plains of the young woman's voluptuous body, what it would feel like to gently slide her fingers over each soft, smooth rise and fall of flesh, and the intoxicating scent and flavor of Seven against her lips. She had stood before her mirror, forehead resting on the cool surface, trying to ease the throbbing steadily increasing at her center.

Selecting what she would wear was surprisingly, one of her easier tasks of
the evening. The clothing she chose, a little red, silky soft, spaghetti strapped number, that reached several centimeters past her knees, loosely played against her bare skin as she walked Voyager's corridors toward the holodeck. She was so distracted by the sensations her thoughts and clothing were generating, she nearly tripped over the threshold in her haste to get under
the cover of the holodeck confines. The door's loud clang behind her was a comforting sound, affirming that her obvious arousal was now, thankfully, hidden from the eyes of her crew.

1900 hours seemed an eternity in approaching, giving the captain plenty of time to busy herself with lighting candles, straightening and polishing silverware that had only been straightened and polished three or four times already, and rearranging the center piece on the small linen covered dinner table. She hoped that keeping busy would settle the large group of monarchs that had migrated to her abdomen earlier, while she was picking out her evening attire.

Discarding her foot wear, she allowed the refreshing coolness of the sand against her bare feet and the smell of the breeze help to abate her mounting tension.  She finished her dinner preparations shuffling around in the sand, humming to herself and trying to stay relatively calm but not quite managing that particular task. As she looked out over the ocean, she fiddled with the simple strand of black onyx beads that hung around her neck. She watched
the tide rise and fall as the moonlight illuminated the crests of the waves like diamonds rolling back and forth across black velvet. The white sand of the beach went on, uninterrupted, for as far as the eye could see. She lost
herself in the lulling wash of the waves and yielding caress of the breeze, contemplating the chain of events that had brought her to this moment in
time.

The labored sound of the holodeck doors opening, startled her out of her revere. What her gaze came to rest upon next was nothing short of the
most beautiful vision she had ever realized. Seven of Nine stepped into the holodeck, the doors shutting behind her and disappearing so that she stood poised in the sand near the small table, scanning the scenery for the captain. Much to Janeway's complete appreciation, Seven was dressed in a lovely cotton dress, its cream and pale blue coloring flowing in a spiraling pattern around her curvaceous figure and ending with a single strap that fastened over her left shoulder. The hem of the dress followed the rest of the scheme by swooping well below her right knee and then rising across to gather at a point halfway up her left thigh so that it seemed as if the dress were embracing her instead of being worn by her. Seven's hair had been freed from its normal twist and framed her angelic features, shimmering in the low lighting along with the additional implants that this special attire revealed quite elegantly.

Kathryn knew that the raging desire in her heart must have been apparent on her face, for when Seven saw her she gave the captain an acknowledging look that seemed to have every intention of devouring her where she stood.

As she slowly moved toward Seven the captain schooled her movements and her voice offering a steady yet very husky, "You look... extraordinary."

Seven, searching for her Borg reserve and realizing it was nowhere to be found, whispered, "You are perfection, Kathryn."

The captain asked herself for the umpteenth time since Seven arrived, how
the hell could she have possibly resisted this women for so long. She smiled, taking Seven's hand and led her to the table.

"Are you thirsty? I have something I picked especially for you."

Seven, noticing that her mouth was strangely *dry*, offered a feeble, "Yes."

Kathryn poured a bubbly, dark red liquid into Seven's glass. "I know that synthahol has a, how did you put it, 'undesirable affect' on your cortical processor. So I managed to come up with something instead, that I think
you'll really enjoy. It's called sparkling raspberry juice. I've tried it. And it's really quite good."

Seven sipped at her drink and smiled in pleasant surprise. She took  several more sips, draining half the glass, grateful for something tactual to take her mind off of the libidinous thoughts wandering through her mind. "It is *very* good. Thank you Kathryn. I appreciate your forethought," she replied genuinely.

"It was nothing. I'm just pleased you like it. How about something to eat?
I thought we might have broiled shrimp kabobs, brushed with butter and herbs, served on a bed of wild rice."

Seven had to admit, that sounded delicious. However, she was far from being hungry and thought it unwise to waste so many replicator rations.

"Unfortunately Kathryn, I'm not hungry in the least. And I believe my loss of appetite can be attributed to the various intense emotions I'm experiencing."

Kathryn chuckled. "Not one for beating around the bush are you Seven?"

"If I interpret your metaphor correctly, no, I'm not. However, it can be annotated in a number of different ways."

It was the captain's turn to raise an eyebrow at what the lovely Borg was implying. She decided it was best, for now, to let it drop.

"Well then, since nobody's hungry, let's continue our conversation while we dance."

Seven's eyes darted up to hold Kathryn's in an almost panicky stare.

"I do not think it wise to engage in such an activity. I'm having exceeding difficulty maintaining control while at this proximity." She lowered her voice to a pleading whisper. "Kathryn, if I touch you I do not believe I will be able to *stop* touching you."

Kathryn drew an unsteady breath. Taking Seven's hand, she eased her up from the chair, answering softly, "I won't ask you to stop."

They stepped away from the table and melted together in a long overdue display of passionate, yet tender emotion. Together, they moaned aloud at the contact, holding and caressing and clinging to each other, at the mercy of their mutual need. Their bodies pressed against one another, inflaming their long denied desires, longing to become closer, desperately wanting to move beyond the fabric that separated flesh from flesh.

Seven brushed her lips over Kathryn's brow, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply the sweet scent lingering in the older women's hair. She kissed her temple, her cheek bone, her jaw, smiling softly in between kisses as she moved toward the delicate lips that spoke the commands that had inspired her heart to soar beyond the imprisoning of her Borg ancestors. As she reached her destination, she inhaled the gasp that escaped Kathryn's lips, covering their delicious moisture, sending both women spiraling down into the endless bliss of roaming hands, heated mouths, and unquenchable, passionate exploration.

Their lips parted slowly... warm... wet... aching from the loss of contact, yearning for more, yet understanding the need of the rest of the body for oxygen.

Kathryn closed her eyes and rested her forehead against Seven's chin, basking in the glow steadily burning inside her.

Whispering, Seven broke the silence, "Daynar was correct."

Still quite breathless, Kathryn tried to form a coherent thought. "How so, darling?"

In a quivering voice she explained, "He told me that he desperately wanted me to experience the joy of what it was to be made whole by the love of another." She exhaled a ragged breath. "I have. And I am."

Kathryn looked up and watched as tears flowed freely over beautiful, milky cheeks, making her heart clutch within her. Pulling Seven down to her, she pillowed the younger women's lovely head on her shoulder, brushing away the tears and gently running her fingers through the downy softness of Seven's hair.

"Oh sweetheart... I do love you, so completely. I've been such a fool. I let my fear and my presumed duty control my actions, which in the process injured you deeply. I'm desperately sorry for that. I... oh, I was afraid.  At first that you wouldn't or couldn't love me back. Then later, I was afraid if I let myself love you I wouldn't be able to stop. Now, I don't want to stop. All I want is to spend the rest of my life loving you and trying to repay you for saving me from my miserable existence. You are my strength Annika. Nothing will ever change that. Nothing... I understand that now."

Kathryn finally instructed the computer to play a selection of music. "Computer access Janeway file: alpha one nine. Begin playback."

A clear, full bodied, perfect pitched feminine voice began to float through the air on the ethereal notes of a soothing piano/harp combination, accompanied by the string section of a symphony orchestra.  As the music tugged at Seven's already overflowing heart, the lyrics lifted her spirit, rising with the melody, to a place where she and Kathryn could float on the breezes of imagination, warmed by the most powerful love they had ever known, the only two people in the universe, the alpha and omega of all existence.

Every night... every day...
You're the one I always dream of.
Every line... of your face...
Is sketched so plain, inside my heart.

You've grown so deep inside of me.
You're everything I feel and see.
And you're the one. You're the one I love.

All my life... all my love...
I can feel when you're beside me.
All that's right... all that's wrong...
Suddenly becomes so clear.

My heart has overtaken me
With feelings you awake in me.
And you're the one. You're the one I love.

Only you could move me enough
To believe in love one more time.
All I need to know for tomorrow is that you're mine,
Mine for a lifetime.

If our friends... all around...
Find it hard... to understand us...
You and I understand
The other one so very well.
And that's what I've been looking for.
So I'll keep coming back for more.

'Cause you're the one. You're the one I love.
You're the one. You're the one... I... love...

As the music ended, they came to, having completely lost themselves in the journey. The melody had led their souls, through a dance of a lifetime in the expanse of the four minutes which it took for the song to play through to
the end. As they held each other tightly, in the middle of the stillness, they experienced an epiphany that would change their beings for all eternity. Two broken and incomplete spirits wrapped around one another, forming a withstanding, absolute unity that none could ever hope to prevail against. In
the silence, transcending all battles, beyond all duty, and above all others,
two voices echoed as one.

"I love you, Annika."

"I love you too, Kathryn."

~~~The End~~~

"Survival is insufficient".......*loving* is perfection.

Copyright: 5/2000