• This is the 17th installment in the Just Between series.
• This story was posted around the first of April, 1999 as the show was moving toward the end of its fifth season.
• I have to dedicate this one to Marco because he never gave up hoping to see the return of a certain couple. So this one is for him.  He also assisted in the technobabble but I tend to go my own way with it so anything that doesn't work is my doing, not his.
• There is a Wonder Wand Warning up for this installment for those who are not comfortable with the use of 'accessories'.

Feeling as if the weight of the universe was on her shoulders, as she entered her quarters, Kathryn raised an eyebrow as she saw the slender woman with the cropped blond hair curled up on her couch, the narrow features intent as she studied a padd from the large stack scattered randomly over the coffee table. Despite her discouragement, Kathryn felt her heart lighten, and she smiled warmly at her guest.

"Didn't forget dinner, I see."

Annika looked up as if just now realizing the other woman was present, her pale blue eyes brightening. ""I let myself in."

Kathryn nodded, crossing over to the replicator where she requested a glass of whiskey and soda. She glanced back at the blonde. "Can I get you anything?"

Annika lifted her wine glass, still half full of ruby liquid. "I'm covered, thanks."

Kathryn took a sip of her drink as she drifted back to the sofa, pushing aside some padds so she could sit next to her guest, feeling the warmth spread through her as the alcohol burned a trail down to her stomach. "How was your day?"

Annika smiled absently. "Same old," she murmured. "A step forward in one area, two steps back in another. I might see the end of this project in my lifetime."

Kathryn pursed her lips. "You'll have to see it sooner than that," she said wryly. "Starfleet won't tolerate supporting this much longer."

That provoked the younger woman's complete attention, and she turned, regarding her companion with a laser gaze from ice blue eyes. "Maybe you should explain that."

Kathryn sighed and took another sip of her drink. "Sorry, I probably made it sound worse than it was. It ... I understand that it wasn't a very good meeting with the brass. There are other projects demanding their share of the resources, and with only so much to go around ..."

"Unless we have a concrete breakthrough soon, they're gonna pull the plug," Annika finished for her flatly. Agitated, the tall blonde rose to her feet, and paced restlessly about the small living room. "Damn it, Kathryn, this is just the sort of short-sighted vision that makes me wonder why I got involved with this whole thing in the first place."

"You know what Starfleet expects," Kathryn said, keeping a rein on her temper with an effort. She was tired and less tolerant of her companion's standard party line than normal. "If you can't fulfill it, then they'll go to someone who can."

That one stung, she saw, and she regretted her sharp words when she saw Annika turn abruptly and stare at her, a hurt expression on her face. Kathryn held up her hand.

"I'm sorry," she said, deliberately gentling her tone. "I'm frustrated, too."

Annika hesitated, then nodded. She remained standing for another moment, and Kathryn was very aware of the intense scrutiny she cast upon her. She tried not to show her feelings, hoping that her command mask was holding though she knew she hadn't had opportunity to utilize it much lately. Feeling weary, she drained the last of the whiskey from her glass, wanting another one desperately, and knowing she shouldn't for just that reason.

"Have you heard anything about your latest request for a transfer?" Annika asked gently.

Vice Admiral Kathryn Johnson lowered her eyes. "I received a communiqué from Starfleet command this morning," she said with difficulty. "Apparently, I am considered to be ... too valuable here." She stared blankly at the now empty glass in her hands. "They're not going to give me a new ship. Or demote me back to captain."

"I'm sorry," Dr. Annika Hansen said finally, after a long pause.

Johnson raised her eyes to meet those of the other woman's squarely. "Are you?" she replied coldly, wanting to take the words back as soon as they left her mouth.

But Annika did not react to the tone. "You're not happy here and more than anything, I do want you to be happy ... even if it means we can't be together."

Johnson averted her face, feeling tears sting the back of her eyes. "Maybe it's for the best," she said, controlling her voice with an effort.

"Hey," Hansen said softly as she returned to her previous seat, reaching over and taking Johnson's hand into her own. "It'll work out, Kathryn, I know it will. You'll get the posting you want."

Johnson forced a smile. "You know I'm trying for a science vessel. One where you can come along in a civilian capacity." She looked over at the other woman, feeling her heart catch. "I want you to be with me."

Hansen moved closer, slipping her arm about the smaller woman's shoulders. "Sweetheart, when I get this transwarp thing licked, they'll be falling all over themselves to get the new coils installed on the ships," she said with genuine enthusiasm. "As the only starship captain who knows about them, you'll have your pick of vessels." She paused, taking a second to kiss Johnson gently on the temple as her voice grew more thoughtful. "In fact, maybe that's why Starfleet is stalling you. They want you here to take command of the first vessel we modify."

Johnson felt a smile touch her lips. She didn't know if she believed the young scientist's optimistic take on the situation, but she couldn't deny that it made her feel better to hear it. She leaned closer to Hansen, settling against the lanky body, enjoying the brief sense of security the arms surrounding her granted her soul.

"I'm sorry for being so cranky," she said softly.

"I'm used to it," Hansen responded dryly. "You've been cranky from the first moment we met." She pulled Janeway's face to her, and kissed her soundly on the mouth. "It didn't stop me from falling in love with you," she said in gentle reminder against her lips. "It certainly doesn't keep me from being crazy about you now.

Johnson smiled and snuggled closer. "So what would you like for dinner?" she asked, changing the subject. "I understand that a new supply ship unloaded this morning with Alaskan crabs fresh from the coast. We can go out."

Located on the fourth planet in the Sol system, the Olympian facility was a high security installation under the aegis of Starfleet Command where Hansen and her group of civilian scientists were working on creating a transwarp propulsion system to be placed on current Federation starships. Limited to authorized personnel only, it was completely self-contained, and boasted a variety of recreational facilities for its people; including gymnasiums, live theater, shops and an eating establishment named Frisco's, providing the finest of Earth cuisine. The restaurant was a favorite of the couple, who had a table near the windows that looked out into the rusty rock formations of the stark landscape left pretty much as it had been before the extensive terra-forming the rest of Mars had undergone.

Hansen's tongue darted out and flicked Johnson's earlobe. "I was sort of hoping we could stay in tonight," she murmured suggestively, her voice dropping a note or two.

Johnson shivered as the sensation traveled through her. "I can live with that."

A chime from her communications console interrupted what was developing into a very nice mood, and with a sigh, the Vice Admiral rose, moving over to her console where she activated in the viewscreen. "Go ahead," she said, schooling the irritation from her voice.

The stern Slavic features of Admiral Alynna Nechayev appeared, the Starfleet sector administrator regarding the Vice Admiral with dark eyes. Behind her, Johnson could see the window that looked out over the sun dappled sparkles of San Francisco Bay and the Golden Gate bridge, indicating that the call was originating from Starfleet Command Headquarters on Earth.

"Kathryn," the Admiral said, not wasting time, "I'm sending the latest results of the nanoprobe experiments to you. The teams on Phobos are having a lot of problems, and it's hoped that your people can offer a new perspective."

Johnson blinked, trying to adjust to this abrupt bit of news. "What of the transwarp project?"

Necheyev looked annoyed. "The consensus is that it's lost a great deal of its potential. The council believe that these nanoprobes can make an immediate difference in the war effort with the Dominion." She hesitated, then raised an eyebrow ruefully. "You can keep a core group on the warp coil construction, Kathryn, but start shifting the focus as soon as possible. We need those weapons."

"Understood," the Vice Admiral said as the screen flickered and went blank. An icon in the lower left corner indicated the transferal of secured, highly classified files being placed in her data base. She took a deep breath and turned, looking at her companion.

Hansen was regarding her with frosty silence.

"You weren't supposed to be privy to that," Johnson said lamely.

"They're yanking the rug right out from under us," the scientist snapped. "You didn't even fight it!"

Johnson firmed her jaw. "I have my orders. I know that's not a concept you like very much, but it's how it has to be."

"There's a difference between accepting the inevitable and folding without a struggle," Hansen said harshly as she began to gather up her padds. "You've become nothing more than a puppet."

That stung, and Johnson knew her dinner plans were disintegrating right before her eyes. When Hansen got on a roll about Starfleet and its militaristic aspects that were growing stronger every day the Dominion war went on, it was almost impossible to deal with the young woman. She simply would not listen to reason, yet Johnson tried anyway.

"Annika, we don't have a lot of choice here. The entire Federation is at stake, and we need to do what has to be done in order to preserve it."

"You know, I'm always hearing stories of how you were when you were in the Delta Quadrant, and honestly, I think you've lost something, Kathryn," Hansen said over her shoulder as she headed for the exit. "You used to get things done despite the red tape and protocols. Maybe you should think about how much you've lost by becoming a Starfleet lackey again!"  The door hissed shut behind her with a firm finality.

Johnson stood alone in her command quarters.

"I do think about it," she said in a tiny voice. "All the time."

Wishing that she didn't ... wishing that she was still a captain at the helm of her own vessel, in command of her own destiny, depending only on herself and a crew which would follow her into a quantum singularity itself.

Wishing that she didn't have to spend most of her current existence feeling absolutely helpless.

Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship Voyager entered the captain's quarters and frowned, wondering where her spouse of three months was located. Aware that the young Borg had finished her duty shift an hour earlier, the captain had expected to find her home waiting for her, especially since they had been planning to meet here before going to the holodeck for an early Velocity match before dinner.

"Annika?"

"In the bedroom, Kathryn," the voice floated out from the other room.

Intrigued, Janeway crossed the living area and peered through the bedroom door, stifling a laugh when she saw her partner lying naked on the bed.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her eyes drawn to the juncture of the statuesque blonde's legs where a simulated penile device towered over her groin proudly.

"I am determining the Wonder Wand 9000's full range of options," Seven of Nine responded, frowning as she perused the padd that had apparently been in the plain, wooden box laying discarded on the floor. The lid was flung casually open to reveal the now empty velvet interior, that was the normal resting place of the Ferengi manufactured sexual 'aid'. "According to these 'instructions', I do not believe we have been receiving the full value of this device ."

"I see," Janeway said in a voice laden with amusement. She leaned against the door frame, and crossed her arms over her chest. "Am I to presume that Velocity is not on tap for this evening?"

Seven looked up at her, then flushed. "I lost track of time. I discovered that there were even more features than we were previously aware."

Janeway raised an eyebrow. "You were ... uh, using it on your own?" she asked, surprised at the surge of desire that went through her at this thought, her voice dropping to a smoky caress.

Seven looked at her oddly. "How could I use it without you?"

Janeway blinked, abruptly shifting gears. "Ah, well, that is sort of its original purpose," she stammered, realizing she had just ventured into territory that perhaps she shouldn't have.

"It is?" Seven was obviously surprised by this. She looked down at it. "You mean that a person would utilize this on ... themselves?" She seemed intrigued by the idea, and raised her eyes to meet Janeway's squarely. "Have you?"

Janeway felt the hot blush travel up her neck to radiate from her cheeks. "Uh," she temporized. "There was those three days you were on that away mission to the Corvos system." She found herself avoiding the young woman's eyes. "I was ... lonely without you, darling and ... well, feeling sort of amorous one night thinking about our honeymoon and ... it was here and you weren't ..." She trailed off, very aware of Seven regarding her with the strangest expression on her face. "Are you upset?"

Seven blinked. "I am surprised. I did not realize one could ... pleasure one's own self."

Janeway searched desperately around for an answer to that one as her partner lay there, waiting expectantly. "Well, we can," she said weakly.

"How?"

"Oh, god." Janeway shifted uncomfortably in the doorway. "Oh ... ah, pretty much the same way you would pleasure me."

"Ah," Seven offered with sudden comprehension. "You utilized it to penetrate yourself by manipulating it with your hands."

"Yes," Janeway said, acutely embarrassed and hoping that was the end of it.

"You enjoyed that?" Seven asked with intense scientific curiosity.

Janeway took a deep breath. "It wasn't as ... pleasurable as if you had been with me, but I fantasized that it was you that was using it on me and ... it got the job done."

Seven appeared to be considering this very seriously. "I would be unable to utilize it on myself in that manner."

Janeway hesitated, then moved away from the door and took a seat gingerly on the foot of the bed, looking at her partner who was in a half seated position, reclining against the pillows at the head of the bed.

"You would not enjoy the penetration," Janeway said softly. "We've established that, but there would be another way for you to use it for your own pleasure ... if you'd like."

"Indeed?"

The Starfleet captain's eyes searched around the bed, finally spotting the small control on the night stand. She held out her hand. "Pass me the remote," she requested, unaware she was bestowing a whole new meaning to a phrase that had been fairly common in the latter part of Earth's twentieth century.

Seven picked it up and readily handed it to Janeway who studied the current settings before making a brief adjustment to one of the levels. She looked back at her partner. "Reach down and touch it," she instructed gently.

Seven eyed her a moment, then did so. She jumped a little and glanced back at the captain. "You have increased the sensitivity."

"Just relax and sort of ... caress it," Janeway suggested, giving Seven back the remote. "Pretend I'm not here."

"You are here," Seven objected.

"For the sake of the experiment."

"Very well." Seven ran her fingers up and down the phallus, twitching at the sensation. "It feels ... good, but I would rather it were you touching me."

"I know," Janeway said, controlling her breathing. She was a little hesitant about how much she was enjoying this observation of her partner, but could not deny that it was sending tingles throughout her entire body. "But in the event I wasn't here, you could do this by yourself."

"Imagining that I was utilizing it on you," Seven said, a dawning enlightenment appearing in her pale eyes. "It would be ... a substitute."

Janeway nodded. "One that you can make do with until ... the real thing returns."

"As you did," Seven said in understanding, now wrapping her fingers completely around the fleshy shaft and pumping slowly, moving up and down as a piston would in the cylinder of her fist. Her hips were moving off the bed, and Janeway felt the sudden urge to get out of her uniform.

"Yes," the captain said, standing up and tugging at her tunic, shrugging out of it before tossing it over to the lounger.

Seven looked at her and raised an eyebrow, pausing in her motion. "You are not supposed to be here," she reminded her, humor coloring her tone. "Not for this experiment."

"A good scientist is always prepared for changing variables, Annika," Janeway said as she peeled off her sweater, the static electricity raising strands of her auburn hair so that it crackled about her face. "Continue your experiment." She shinnied out of her trousers and boots, then quickly removed her undergarments, leaving her standing naked by the bed where she stared with avid eyes as Seven resumed pleasuring herself. "Just consider me a new variable," she added huskily.

"You are enjoying this," Seven noted with interest. "Watching me."

"It's very stimulating."

Seven was silent for a moment, the only sound from her the increased respiration that caused her chest to rise and fall in a most delightful manner, her full, pink tipped breasts quivering as her arm flexed.

"I find," the Borg said finally, "that I am also stimulated by having you watch me."

"Human sexuality is a constant exploration," Janeway noted with a smile.

"I think ... I would be further stimulated if you would lie down, co that you were closer to me."

Janeway's smile widened. "For experimental purposes only."

"Of course," Seven said, her eyes shining.

Janeway carefully stretched out on the bed beside her spouse, raised on her side as she propped her head up on her hand, watching Seven manipulate the artificial penis. The captain knew that the device which fitted over the young woman's clitoris had sensors inside which transmitted sensation directly to the Borg's own nerve endings, making it seem as if the phallus was an 'extension' of her body. So by caressing it in this manner, Seven was actually stimulating herself, something Janeway did not think the Borg had ever deliberately attempted before. It stirred her, sent another surge of desire rippling through her which left her weak, moisture flooding her nether regions, her nipples hardening in the still air.

"Annika," Janeway asked softly. "Can I change the settings a bit?"

"You wish to make the color look more like my own flesh tones," Seven guessed. She smiled briefly at her partner. "Perhaps make it a bit smaller, as well?"

"If you don't mind," Janeway said politely.

Seven handed her the remote, and Janeway made the changes in the settings so that the color was no longer that appalling neon blue, and the dimensions were more consistent with Human male genitalia; approximately sixteen centimeters long and four centimeters thick, rather than the thirty centimeters Seven had been working with. The Borg never stopped her motion as the device adjusted itself in her hand, her eyes pinned on Janeway's face.

The captain caught her breath as she met that intent pale gaze, and she leaned over, kissing Seven on the mouth, flicking the Borg's lips with her tongue to part them, then deepening the kiss with passionate intent.

"Annika," she offered huskily when they parted. "Can we save the self experimentation for a future time?"

"I believe so," Seven responded, swallowing hard as she removed her hand from the device. "In truth, I had discovered a few features I wished to ... demonstrate to you."

"Indeed?" Janeway raised an eyebrow as Seven leaned over, and drew out a jar from the drawer of the nightstand located near the head of the bed. Seven opened it and scooped out some clear, gelatinous substance that she slathered over the Wonder Wand 9000, leaving it glistening in the ship's illumination. "Been at the replicator recreational programs again, I see."

"It is lubrication," Seven explained, shooting a glance at her. "I understand that this facilitates penetration so that there is absolutely no pain."

Janeway laughed. "My love, lubrication is usually not a problem with me."

"I know," Seven said, suddenly serious, "But I do not want to take the risk."

Seven slipped her arm around her and pulled her closer, kissing her deeply. "I only wish to give you pleasure, Kathryn," she said against her mouth. "Never pain."

"You never do, my love," Janeway assured her, nibbling at the Borg's bottom lip. She reached down and wrapped her fingers around the fleshy rod, rubbing it gently. Her fingers glided easily in the lubricant which, to her surprise, felt quite silky, rather than slimy or greasy. Seven moaned, and the captain smiled at her. "Have you arrived at any preliminary conclusions?"

Seven inhaled deeply. "I must conclude that external stimulation is preferable to self stimulation, even when the action is exactly the same."

"Astute analysis," Janeway noted dryly.

Seven kissed her, then settled back against the pillows, reaching over for the remote. "Now, I must show you the variables for which you must base your future conclusions."

"All right," Janeway said, amused and aroused as she dropped the control device into the Borg's palm. "What would you like me to do?"

Seven glanced at her. "Would you sit on my lap?"

Since that was where the wonder wand was, Janeway knew exactly what that meant, and with Seven's assistance, she carefully straddled her spouse, taking her time to position herself over the tip of the phallus. Seven reached down and guided the head to Janeway's opening, holding it still as the captain slowly eased down onto it. Janeway put her hands on Seven's shoulders to support herself, making a soft sound in her throat as she felt the hardness fill her, grateful that it seemed to have some form of internal thermostat which that always made it the body temperature of the wearer. As a result, it felt quite real, almost as if it was actually a part of Seven's body. The addition lubrication caused it to slip into the captain with incredible ease.

"Oh god, love," Janeway breathed as she settled onto her wife. She was resting against the Borg's torso, feeling Seven's breasts warm against hers, her warm skin silky smooth against the captain's body. The couple rarely used the device to supplement their love life, but when they did, Janeway was always tremendously aroused simply by the combined sensation of male and female attributes working together to give her pleasure. "What now?"

"I wish you to remain still," Seven told her.

"Okay," Janeway said agreeably. "But isn't that a little boring?"

"Have patience," Seven instructed. "I do not believe it will be 'boring'."

Janeway laughed, blowing a strand of hair off her face as she felt perspiration dampen her forehead. Regarding her lover closely,she was intrigued as she saw Seven touch the controls. Her eyes widened as she felt the device suddenly contract inside her, almost as if it was withdrawing, then it expanded again, filling her with its previous size. It repeated the motion, creating a slow repetition of steady thrusts inside her, just as if Seven were actually moving her hips.

"Goodness, that certainly takes a lot of the work out of it," Janeway exclaimed, torn between laughter and astounded pleasure. "How are you doing that?"

"A program of two size parameters set on a repeating loop," Seven said, rather proudly.

"I like it," Janeway said and pressed closer against the Borg, kissing her neck, shifting so she could feel her breasts move over Seven's. She gasped as Seven touched the controls again, and a bump rose from the base of the phallus, pushing against Janeway's hard little center. Janeway needed only to undulate her hips slightly to rub herself over the protrusion. "Oh my!"

"You like this?" Seven said, a pleased note in her voice.

"Oh, very much," Janeway responded, breathing hard. "Men can't manage that one at all. Clever girl."

"I find it to be far more efficient this way." Seven's hands ran restlessly over the captain's sides and back. "I can concentrate on you rather than the proper mechanics of my movement."

Janeway laughed huskily. "Trust you to discover the most efficient method for using this thing." She swallowed, moaning as she pressed against her lover. "Oh god, Annika, this feels so good."

"That was my intention," Seven whispered, seeking out Janeway's mouth, covering it possessively.

She reached between them, putting her hands over Janeway's breasts, squeezing them gently. With skilled fingertips still slick from the lubrication, she teased Janeway's nipples, and the captain felt herself cast adrift on the combination of Seven kissing her hotly, the thrusting between her legs, the bump rubbing against her ridge, and finally, the feel of Seven's hands on her breasts. Seven was not done, however, and Janeway jerked as she felt Seven's right hand leave her breast and slide around to her back, the fingers sliding into the cleft of her buttocks, pressing against her anus. "Annika?"

"I promise to be very careful, Kathryn," Seven whispered, not moving as she waited for Janeway's response. "I will not touch you anywhere else afterward."

"Gently," Janeway responded huskily, granted her lover permission, trusting her utterly. It was not necessarily anything she had particularly liked in the past with other lovers, but she knew Seven enjoyed it, and was willing for the sake of experimentation to explore this with her.

"I will," Seven promised sincerely.

The captain shuddered as she felt Seven's finger gently circle the puckered opening, prodding against it provocatively, then finally the Borg eased her middle finger into the captain with the most tender of motions. Kathryn was aware that the jar's lubrication still on the young woman's hands had facilitated the ease of her entry. They kissed again, Seven's tongue invading Janeway's mouth as the Borg set up an alternating motion with her finger, slipping into Janeway from behind as the phallus contracted, withdrawing as it expanded. Never had the captain felt so filled, so penetrated all at once and she drew away from Seven's mouth, groaning harshly, throwing her head back as she fought for air, gripping the young woman's shoulders tightly.

It was overwhelming, the various sensations from the different parts of her body making it difficult to think, to remember where she was and what exactly was happening. It was as if there were more than one person making love to her, one from the front, one from the back and yet another using their mouth on her. She was suspended in a sea of pleasure with the pinnacle hovering just out of reach, the different stimulations starting to overload her mind. It felt adrift, darting from one pleasure center to the other, deceived by the ease of it, of; the two bodies pressed together, not needing any great exertion, just the brief undulations of Janeway's hips to rub against the tantalizing protrusion. The device seemed to speed up, thrusting into her deeper and faster, and when Seven leaned forward to take a nipple between her lips, sucking on it firmly as her mesh covered fingers tugged on her other one, it was the final straw, the ultimate sensation that pushed Janeway over the top. Her orgasm didn't so much sweep her up as it exploded inside her, taking her and shaking her as the captain cried out helplessly, climaxing so hard that she felt shattered in a million pieces.

She returned to herself, cradled in her lover's arms, the device having stopped its motion, but still filling her. Seven had withdrawn her hand from the woman's rear channel, and was now holding it carefully away from Janeway as the captain swallowed against a sandpaper mouth, clinging to the Borg unsteadily for long moments, trying to slow her rushing heart rate.

"So, what are your conclusions?" Seven asked softly. "Regarding this experiment?"

"God, Annika," Janeway murmured. "That was ... too much."

"Indeed?" Seven said with great curiosity. "How so?"

Janeway took a moment, trying to catch her breath as she organized her thoughts. "It was incredible, darling," she said finally, laying weakly against Seven. "Don't get me wrong, it was really good but after awhile, it became more about the sensation, and less about the emotion we have for each other. I found myself ... isolated, as if it were just me and my pleasure rather than my being with you." She hesitated, nuzzling Seven's neck. "I don't know that I'm explaining this very well."

Seven kissed her forehead gently. "I believe I understand what you are saying. As we progressed, I became no more important a variable to your pleasure than ... the accessory."

"Exactly," Janeway said with a touch of relief. "It's great fun once in awhile, but I like being with you, darling. This was ... like having sex. Great sex, mind you, but when it's all said and done, it was purely physical. I need more than that with you."

"So you would not want to do this regularly?"

Janeway sat up, linking her hands behind Seven's neck and kissing her on the lips, softly, sweetly. "No," she decided finally. "It was fun to explore, and it was very stimulating as a change of pace, just as it was when I used it on myself, but I'd much rather be with you, my love and not with a device."

"Very well," Seven said in a pleased sort of way, and Janeway knew she had explained herself exactly right.

The captain was still shaken at how much the pleasure centers in her body had overwhelmed her, and how quickly she no longer cared who or what was causing it. Janeway guessed that she now understood how some people could become addicted to such things, but she was also very aware that in the end, it was not enough for her. Despite her explosive orgasm, she felt surprisingly ... unsatisfied as she relaxed under the covers, waiting while Seven went into the ensuite where the Borg cleaned both herself and the wonder wand before putting the device back in its box until the next experiment.

The real joy, Janeway decided as Seven eventually joined her in the cozy bed, was this wonderful concentration on her partner, their bodies coming together in warm, sweet passion with nothing between them. The captain's hands moved gently and lazily over Seven, granting her lover pleasure in the most personal of ways, sharing a deep intimacy with her in utter adoration and tenderness.

Janeway concluded that making love was far superior to having sex.

Though plain old sex was fun ... once in awhile.

"Damn," she said out loud in a petulant tone. If only Johnson had fought harder.

How? a little voice inside her asked curiously.

If she had stood up to that admiral, then the facility would be concentrating on the transwarp project, she told herself. I'd be several steps closer to a functioning coil.

No, Kathryn would be shot down, and possibly even replaced by someone else, her voice noted rationally. Then, where would you be?

Alone, Hansen allowed reluctantly. Again.

So here you sit, sulking for the past week in your office, her voice prodded. You know very well what Kathryn can and can't do in her position, how much she hates the politicking and the maneuvering she has to do to make this facility work. Yet she continues to do it ... because that's what the job requires. When she makes a commitment, she sticks by it. That's the woman you fell in love with. So why are you mad at her for being exactly who she is?

Hansen frowned mightily and stared at her desk stubbornly.

Don't forget, this throws out your theory of Starfleet wanting to stall Johnson so she can take command of a transwarp vessel, her voice added with honest irritation. Imagine how that one feels to her and try to rise about your own selfish concerns ... for a change.

An empty space inside her abruptly ached with an exquisite pain, and Annika felt her temples throb. How could she have overlooked what this meant to Kathryn? Obviously, her tantrum had gone on long enough, she decided firmly. It was time to bite the bullet and make the first move, especially since she had been the one being so cold and unresponsive for the past week. She knew she had to do something extra to make up for it beyond merely making an effort to restore communication. She needed something tender and romantic, something that would hold the door open long enough for her to apologize.

She keyed in some commands to her work console, using a few tricks she had discovered a few months earlier when a rift had developed between this universe and another. Two people, the counterparts to both her and Johnson, had appeared in this reality and it had taken all four working together to return the wanderers to their own universe. Her counterpart went by the name, Seven of Nine, assimilated by the Borg Collective at age six ... something that Hansen and her parents had avoided by returning to the Federation a year or so earlier than Seven's parents had. While working with this other version of herself, Hansen had learned quite a few things, not the least of which was that in at least one reality, she and the woman named Kathryn shared a deep and committed love. It had been enough for her to try to form a relationship with the Kathryn in this universe, wanting the same sort of love and passion filling her life as it did her counterpart's. Though she wondered if Seven had as much difficulty with it as she seemed to be going through.

Probably not, she decided silently as she scanned Vice Admiral Johnson's psychological profile, something she shouldn't have been able to access at all. My Kathryn's a real hard ass.

She sighed as she finally found what she was looking for. A transcript where Johnson mentioned that she had received a rose every day from Boothby while at the Academy, and how much she enjoyed them. Apparently, it had been in response to a question about the significance of actions verses words. Roses would be just the thing to do the trick, Hansen considered analytically as she shut down the file, making sure there were no lingering traces that could be traced back to her.

Quickly, she went over to her replicator, spending a few moments debating over quantity verses quality, a dozen stems verses the simple elegance of a single bloom, the color, the size and all the rest of the variables. She forced herself to remember who she was dealing with here, and went for elegance, hoping she had guessed right. Steeling herself, she left her office, carrying the flower and feeling rather obvious as she made her way to the administrative level where the Vice Admiral's office was housed.

She put a finger to her lips when she saw Johnson's assistant at her desk, and because Ensign Jetal was a bit of a romantic herself, the dark haired woman smiled upon spotting the rose and waved her through without announcing her. Hansen slipped into the office, realizing her lover hadn't heard the door because the woman did not turn from her contemplation of the landscape through her window.

For just a moment, Hansen was struck by the sheer loveliness of Johnson, the compact, small-breasted body standing at easy attention in the gray and black Starfleet uniform, the classic features in thoughtful repose, the soft auburn hair done up in an austere bun.

The sad melancholy in the blue-grey eyes.

Shamefully, Hansen eased silently into a position beside her, and offered the rose before the Vice Admiral who started slightly.

"I know you're probably still angry with me," the young blonde said quickly. "You have every right to be. I've been acting like a spoiled child who's had her favorite toy taken away. I'm sorry." She paused and gentled her voice. "Please forgive me."

For a long moment, Johnson regarded the single, solitary white rose. Then she accepted it, bringing the bloom up to her nose where she inhaled the scent deeply.

"I suppose I should ask how you got in here without being announced," she said dryly, and Hansen was both relieved and gratified to hear the humor touching the smoky voice.

"I have my ways," Hansen allowed, smiling briefly. She dared to put her hand on one slender shoulder of the smaller woman, bending her head so that it was close to the Vice Admiral's. "I'm sorry, Kathryn. Sometimes I'm too immature for my own good ... or anyone else's. Comes from being an only child."

"Is that where it comes from?" Johnson said, obviously not quite ready to give in.

Hansen appreciated that. After all, a certain amount of groveling never hurt now and again, keeping one properly humble. For someone with the frighteningly keen intelligence the young blonde had grown up with, being humbled every so often was a good thing.

"I'm sorry," she whispered again, moving closer and pressing her face against the soft hair, closing her eyes. "I adore you, Kathryn. I shouldn't be taking my frustration at Starfleet out on you. You're the only good thing in this whole situation. I know I don't deserve you, but I hope you'll give me a second chance anyway."

Johnson seem finally ready to accept this, leaning against her and resting her cheek against Hansen's chin. She brushed her lips over her temple.

"I do love you, Annika," the Vice Admiral said in a weary voice. "I just don't know how to balance that with the demands Starfleet places on me all the time." She paused. "I never did. It cost me my marriage. I don't want it to cost me you."

"It won't," Hansen promised her. She wrapped her arms around Johnson and held her close. "I know I don't make it any easier. I need to be working with you more instead of against you, Kathryn, and from now on, I'm going to change that. If you think it will help ... I'll look over the nanoprobe data. Maybe I can even offer something that might open up a new line of research."

And possibly wrap it up sooner, putting my people back on the transwarp project where they belong, Dr. Hansen thought, but didn't add.

Johnson wasn't fooled. "If you do figure out what's causing the problem," she said deliberately. "I can put your team back on the transwarp coil development that much sooner."

Hansen grinned wryly. "Don't rub it in. I've already wasted a week pouting."

Johnson put her head back, looking up at the younger woman with a faint smile. "Why don't you drop by my quarters tonight?" she suggested quietly. "I can show you the data then."

Dr. Hansen reached down and kissed the tip of the Vice Admiral's nose gently. "Only if I can bring dinner. I owe you one."

"All right," Johnson responded.

They regarded each other for a few moments, then slowly kissed, holding onto each other tightly, needing to heal this. Hansen enjoyed the sensation of the woman's mouth on hers and deepened the contact, sliding her hands restlessly over the Vice Admiral's back. She had always felt more comfortable in her past few relationships with females compared to those that she'd shared with males. She'd never been with anyone, male or female, who touched her as deeply as Johnson did.

Stormy from the first moment the Starfleet officer had taken command of the project, the interaction of the Vice Admiral, in the final stages of a dying marriage, and Hansen, who had been at odds with her parents over her choice of career, had been more combative than potentially romantic. Hansen suspected that much of their personal frustration had been taken out on each other in that first year, but after witnessing the possibilities for themselves in meeting Janeway and Seven, they had began looking at each other with new eyes. Now that Johnson was no longer married, and Hansen could at least speak civilly to her father again, they were trying to rebuild the relationship from scratch, one based on love rather than antagonism.

Perhaps this time, they would finally get it right. Annika could only hope so ... with every fiber of her being.

Seven angled her body slightly, barely avoiding the Velocity disc that shot past her. Without looking, she fired behind her, hearing the slight variation in whine which indicated that she had struck it, and that it had changed color. She leaped to the side and watched with satisfaction as the disc rebounded straight back and slammed into the chest of her opponent.

"Full contact, Seven of Nine. Final round, Seven of Nine. Seven of Nine wins, six to four," the computer stated evenly.

Lt. B'Elanna Torres dropped her arm to her side, looking at Seven in utter disgust. "Damn, you didn't even look to see where it went."

Seven tried not to look inappropriately triumphant as she leaned down to pick up the two water bottles, handing one to the Klingon chief engineer. "I have been improving," she said modestly. "Perhaps I shall even win the next time I play Kathryn."

B'Elanna snorted her opinion of that, and flipped the top of the container, tipping it up to swallow several gulps of the cool, clean water. Seven mimicked the action though she was less obvious in her need for liquid refreshment, and she did not require as much as the other woman who was sweating profusely.

"How is your pet?" Recently, B'Elanna had acquired a tiny alien creature from a planet some light years back where they had spent shore leave.  It resembled a cross between a kitten and a weasel and was almost unbearably cute.

The engineer shot her a look, as if suspecting the other woman was making fun of her. Since it was not something Seven was in the habit of doing often, the Borg was always bemused by the fact that was always B'Elanna's first thought.

"Libby's doing just fine," the lieutenant said finally.

Seven raised an eyebrow. "'Libby'?"

B'Elanna leaned down and picked up a towel, wiping her face and neck. "Harry named it," she explained. "It's staying in his quarters."

"Is that not the name of the woman he loved back on Earth?" Seven noted in an odd tone.

"Yeah," B'Elanna said dryly. "Not necessarily the way to get my attention."

"Do you want him to 'get your attention'?"

B'Elanna eyed her briefly, then shook her head. "I don't know, Seven," she admitted finally. "For a time I thought he really was sniffing around ... and that it might be something that I would like to ... uh, explore."

"But not now?" Seven began to realize that she had assessed the signals between the engineer and the operations officer all wrong. It bothered her. She was usually better at that sort of speculation.

"I don't think so." B'Elanna frowned as if by a sudden thought. "You know, I think he just wanted my pussy."

Seven blinked. "Your ... pussy?"

B'Elanna gestured carelessly. "Yeah, you know, the 'bar breath'," she said, mangling the alien name for the creature. "I just refer to it as a cat because it's easier to remember. Anyway, once I gave it to him, he seemed a lot less interested in me."

"Isn't the B'Rethna still bonded to you?"

B'Elanna took another drink. "Frankly, Seven, I think that whole 'bonding' thing is a crock. It gets on perfectly well with Harry. I doubt it even knows I'm not there most of the time."

"Naomi's creature is very attached to her," Seven said, referring to the starship's solitary child who had also acquired a B'Rethna from the planet.

"That's 'cause they're never out of each other's sight," B'Elanna said, unimpressed. "The mangy thing even sleeps with her."

Both women glanced over as the large doors suddenly opened, and Tom Paris entered the holodeck. He was dressed in the outfit Seven knew was meant for his Captain Proton holoprogram, and she was surprised, having believed that he was no longer running it since the unfortunate incident with the fifth dimension aliens.

"Are you finished?" he asked, regarding them warily, particularly the engineer. He had once been romantically involved with B'Elanna, and even after a respectable amount of time, there was still a rawness between them.

"It's all yours," B'Elanna said, without her normal sarcastic tone. She glanced at Seven. "Want to get some lunch in the messhall?"

Seven nodded, and they left the holodeck to Voyager's helmsman, pausing to shower and change in the locker room next to the recreation area. Seven pulled on her plum colored outfit, the garment clinging to her body like a second skin, and put her long blond hair up into a restrained bun. B'Elanna padded naked from the shower and fished her black and gold uniform out of the locker where she had left it prior to their Velocity match. Casually, Seven's eyes assessed the Klingon's body, the tanned skin that rippled over delicate muscle, the defined spine. B'Elanna bent over, affording the Borg a good view of her cleavage, the full breasts tipped with soft brown buds.

B'Elanna is aesthetically pleasing, the Borg noted idly. She wondered what it would be like to kiss those fat little nipples, to run her tongue over the smooth skin of that generous flesh ... abruptly she froze in utter horror, her eyes wide. B'Elanna glanced over, frowning as she took in the Borg's expression.

"Is something wrong, Seven?" she asked, pulling on her trousers.

Seven swallowed. "I need to speak with Kathryn," she said awkwardly.

B'Elanna looked at her in confusion. "What? So we're not going for lunch?"

"I am sorry, B'Elanna," Seven managed to get out before she fled from the locker room, acutely aware of the Klingon looking after her in total amazement.

Seven tried hard to calm her rapidly beating heart as the turbolift rose smoothly toward the uppermost deck, her thoughts in a tangle as she finally stepped out onto the bridge. She took in the command center with a single glance, sweeping from the ops station to her immediate left all the way around to the tactical station to her right where Tuvok, the ship's Vulcan security chief was regarding her with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"Seven?"

"Is Ka --- the captain in?" She found it difficult to control her voice.

He inclined his head briefly, but before he could say anything further, she was down the two small flights of stairs, bursting through the captain's ready room door. She hesitated inside, realizing suddenly that she hadn't activated the chime to announce herself ... something she hadn't done since her first few months on Voyager. Though it had never actually been stated, Seven understood that this was Janeway's sanctuary, the captain's professional space, and not even her wife could intrude on it presumptuously. Seven's face colored darkly as she stood uncertainly in front of the desk.

Janeway, who was leaning back in her chair, angled away as she studied a report, abruptly swung around to see who had entered. Her eyes narrowed, the brief flash of anger giving way immediately to concern as she took in her partner's sudden appearance.

"Annika?" she asked, putting the padd she had been perusing onto the smooth surface of her desk, rising to walk around the piece of furniture. "What's wrong?"

Seven took a breath. "I am sorry, Kathryn," she said, schooling her voice to a calm she was far from feeling inside. "I know I should not enter here without your permission. I did not mean to forget the chime."

Janeway paused as she realized it wasn't an emergency, and then leaned back against her desk, crossing her arms over her chest, tilting her head as she regarded her astrometrics officer keenly. "I'm sure you wouldn't have done so without a good reason," she allowed slowly. "What is it?"

Seven's mouth opened but no sound came out. She closed it and looked away. "I have betrayed you," she said finally, in a shamed voice. "With another."

Janeway stared at her. "What?"

"It was with B'Elanna," Seven said, her tone hushed, her head bent as she stared at the deck, tears stinging her eyes. She felt loathsome, unworthy of even being in the same room as her spouse. "In the locker room outside the holodeck."

There was a silence as Janeway regarded her in total stupefaction. When she spoke, her voice was several octaves lower ... with a distinct chill. "When?"

"Just now," Seven admitted. "After our Velocity match."

"I see," Janeway said with difficulty. "How long has this been going on?"

"Approximately ten point seven minutes."

There was another silence, longer this time as the captain took that in. When she spoke finally, her voice was gentler. "Maybe you should start again, Annika, from the beginning."

Seven did not know what to do with her hands. "B'Elanna and I were changing from our workout garments," she confessed miserably. "I looked over at her nude form and wondered what it would be like to ... kiss her breasts."

"And?"

"I ... fled," she said in a tiny voice, wishing she could stop existing right this moment. "I am so sorry, Kathryn."

Another pause which seemed to stretch on interminably, and Seven dared to look up at her partner from beneath her lashes. The captain had her hand pressed against her mouth, her dark blue eyes studying Seven, and the Borg immediately dropped her gaze again.

"That's it?" Janeway said finally, in an oddly choked voice.

Seven thought that she must have hurt her partner terribly, and she felt her heart ache with a sharp pain at the unsteadiness of the captain's tone.

"Is it not enough?" she said brokenly.

"Annika, you didn't betray me," Janeway said after a few moments.

Astounded, Seven raised her eyes to Janeway, and saw that what she had assumed was distress was actually amusement, the captain trying hard to hide her smile. Seven was profoundly outraged.

"This is not funny," she said, hurt and shaken. "I was attracted to another woman."

"Well, her breasts, at any rate," Janeway said dryly. Then, she seemed to realize how upset her partner was, and reached out, patting Seven's forearm. "Annika, it's all right. It's perfectly natural to ... 'look' once in awhile. It happens."

"It has never happened to me," Seven responded with dismay.

"Granted," Janeway allowed, reaching back to retrieve the china cup sitting on her desk, taking it with her as she ascended the short flight of stairs leading to the upper level of the ready room. "But it's a perfectly human response."

The captain crossed to where a silver cylinder sat on the coffee table, unscrewing the top and pouring out a dark rush of coffee into the fine china. She resealed the thermos and picked up her cup, sipping from it as she sat down on the couch where she regarded her partner intently, her face softening when she saw that Seven had remained in place, too confused to move.

"Come up here," Janeway requested gently.

Hesitantly, Seven mounted the stairs and went over to where Janeway was patting the cushion beside her, indicating she should sit down.

"I do not have feelings for B'Elanna," Seven said with difficulty as she settled onto the couch next to her partner.

"Of course you do," Janeway countered easily. "She's your friend, and while I accept it's entirely possible that you've never noticed before, B'Elanna is a very attractive young woman. You were bound to pick up on her physical attributes sooner or later."

"But I love you," Seven replied, almost desperately.

Janeway frowned, then carefully put her cup down on the coffee table and reached over to the young woman, wrapping her up in her arms.

"I know you love me," the captain said soothingly. "I have absolutely no doubt of that." She kissed Seven sweetly on the temple, hugging her. "Annika, humans are sexual beings, and sometimes we react to external stimuli as just that. I believe that's just what happened with you. I appreciate that you don't fully understand this, and I'm sorry I was so flippant with my initial reaction."

"I do not wish to become any more human," Seven said softly. "Not if it means I will stop loving you."

"Darling, just because you had a physical reaction to another woman doesn't mean that you will stop loving me," the captain told her intently. "All it means is that ... well, that you've progressed enough on your path to Humanity to react purely on a hormonal level to certain things, rather than intellectually." She hesitated and smiled briefly. "I always knew you were attracted to me for my mind rather than my body."

Seven looked up at her. "I love your body."

Janeway put her hand warmly against the Borg's cheek. "I know," she said with a rueful smile. She took a breath. "Annika, I'm trying to explain so that you can understand this isn't as major as you think. This falls very much into the social and cultural conditioning humans receive from a young age ... conditioning which you missed out on as a Borg drone, and are only now catching up to." She pulled Seven closer and the Borg snuggled against her partner, still feeling a bit flustered and confused, but gradually surrendering to the warmth of the embrace. The captain drew the young woman's head down onto her shoulder and tried it from another direction.

"Annika, do you like my breasts?"

Seven glanced down at them. "Very much," she said honestly.

"What about before we fell in love?"

Seven blinked. "I did not ... think about them."

"Why not?"

Seven tried to understand what her spouse was attempting to convey. "Because ... they were just a part of your body. At that time, your body was ... irrelevant to me."

"Then we fell in love and my body wasn't irrelevant any more, was it?"

"No." Seven  nuzzled her face into the captain's neck. "It became something that I wanted to touch...all the time."

"Certain parts of my body such as my breasts, are more inspiring to you in that way, aren't they? Just seeing them makes you want to touch them."

"Yes," Seven said slowly. She thought she was beginning to see where this was going. "Your breasts are very ... stimulating to me. I associate them with sharing physical pleasure with you. My body always responds when you remove your garments and they are revealed to me."

"Exactly," Janeway said in a pleased tone. "So after a while, you simply started to associate female breasts in general with sexual arousal."

Seven took a breath. "So it was not B'Elanna I wanted to kiss necessarily, it was just her breasts?"

"Well, I'm sure it's wrapped up with curiosity and your liking for B'Elanna as a person and a whole host of other things, but yes, that's essentially it," Janeway concluded. "It just happens, Annika. It doesn't have to mean anything. It certainly doesn't mean you betrayed me. I think you just like the sight of women's breasts." She kissed Seven's forehead gently. "That doesn't, however, grant you permission to touch anyone's but mine," she said warningly though her eyes were a bright blue.

"I will not," Seven promised. She hesitated. "May I touch yours now?"

Janeway laughed. "You're incorrigible. I'm on duty, and we're in my ready room."

"Does that mean no?"

Janeway regarded her, a half smile on her face. "It means," she said slowly, "that even if I let you, it's not going to lead to anything ... not here, not now."

"I agree to those conditions," Seven said readily, reaching up to kiss her as she slid her hand under the captain's tunic, seeking out the firm little mound which she cupped, squeezing gently.

Janeway allowed this for several long, leisurely moments while they kissed deeply and slowly. Then, as their respiration increased and Seven's fingers began to swirl around the tip, a distinct bump appearing through the material of the slate blue sweater, the captain reached up and took the Borg's wrist in a gentle grip.

"Enough," she said, a little breathlessly.

"Later?" Seven asked, obediently withdrawing her hand and pulling away from her spouse.

"Oh yes," Janeway murmured. "We'll resume this in our quarters in about four hours, Seven. You'll be there waiting for me?"

Seven kissed her sweetly a final time before getting up. "I will comply."

Resting against the headboard, she closed her eyes as she thought about how this relationship had developed, and wondering about where it might be going. She had never been involved with a woman before, and although the difference she had discovered in this new type of relationship offered her a hope that maybe this time she'd get it right, her duty to Starfleet continued to get in the way. She had briefly entertained the idea of resigning her commission and pursuing a career as a scientist, but she realized that it wouldn't be enough. Getting back into the lab full time was no where near as appealing as her need to get back onto a starship, to take her place in the command chair and feel the sense of accomplishment and authority that role provided.

She drew herself away from that depressing train of thought with an effort, and opened her eyes, blinking in the lowered illumination. Reaching over to the night stand, she took a padd off the stack and keyed in the code to bring up the data on the nanoprobe project. Her science team had been running into the same problem the scientists on Phobos had been; they could reproduce and enhance the nanoprobes left behind by Seven quite well, but when they attempted to store them in a power pack and utilize them in a weapon as the other universe had done so easily, the nanoprobes immediately malfunctioned, turning on the phaser rifle and literally assimilating it, breaking it down into its component parts and leaving what was little more than a free form sculpture. A free form sculpture that was kept under heavy security in a Starfleet vault, but still, a biomolecular construct that did absolutely nothing.

The illumination from the padd's screen was enough to read by, and she ran through the data for what seemed the hundredth time. She knew Annika had been working on this particular padd before they had gone to bed, and she wondered if the young woman's fresh perspective and keen intellect had offered anything new. She was intrigued to discover a line of figures that she had never seen before, and before she could stop herself, she leaned over and nudged the young scientist, waking her from her sound sleep.

Hansen groaned and rolled away, putting a pillow over her head as she attempted to resume her interrupted slumber. Insistently, Johnson nudged her again.

"Annika, wake up."

"What," Hansen muttered grumpily, sitting up in the bed, blinking blearily.

"What are these?" Johnson asked, showing her the screen.

"Resonance frequencies," the young woman replied, still not fully awake, yawning widely.

"Where are you getting them?" Johnson said in puzzlement. "They seem like random numbers."

"No, they're from Janeway and Seven," Hansen protested, rubbing her eyes and stretching slightly. "No one's been taking into account the origin of those nanoprobes."

"You saw that?" Johnson marveled. "After just a few days of studying this stuff."

Hansen shrugged. "Well, you know," she said in that tone Johnson had learned to recognize.

Annika wasn't always entirely comfortable with her formidable intellect, though for the most part she carried it with an almost arrogant confidence. In an intimate setting such as this, however, the scientist seemed reluctant to have it pointed out, almost as if she were afraid it would set her apart ... make her less human. Johnson knew there had been mutters from the rest of the staff about 'genetic manipulation', indicating they thought Annika had been a product of illegal genetic enhancement as others in the Federation had been, but the Vice Admiral knew better. Annika came from parents who were also frighteningly brilliant, just as their parents had been. It was inherited genius, not artificially implanted.

"Why would you even look in that area?" she asked incredulously.

Hansen took the padd from her lover, sleepily keying in more data. "Because, you and the rest are looking at these nanoprobes as microscopic machines ... like those nanites that Crusher kid developed on the Enterprise."

"You're saying they're not?"

Hansen shook her head. "They're more than that. They're cybernetic organisms, incorporating organic material ... Seven's material. They're more like her cells, not just little machines she hauls around independent of herself. They're a part of her." She keyed in more data and handed it back to the Vice Admiral. "The nanoprobes we possess no longer have the cortical regulator to maintain their programming. As long as they remain in the stasis fluid Seven provided, they're fine, but when they're placed in the energy pack of the weapon, they're no longer in sync with our universe, and they react to protect themselves and the host."

Johnson stared at her. Though she was considered pretty smart on the scale such things were measured, there were times when she felt like she was back in the Stone Age, desperately trying to grasp the concepts of lasers, so far ahead of her did Annika think sometimes. It amazed the Vice Admiral, and filled her with a profound gratitude that she was privy to such thought processes.  It had also occurred to her that Hansen was the first person she'd ever been intimately involved with who was more intelligent than she was. She wondered if that meant Hansen was better suited to her than her other lovers had been; that on some level, she had not respected them as she did the young scientist.

"So the nanoprobes are like white blood cells," Johnson offered slowly. "When they're removed from the fluidic stasis, they react as if they're under attack from ... the resonance frequency?" She looked over at Hansen. "Why?"

The young woman shook her head. "I'm not sure."

"Why do they assimilate the weapon casing?"

"My guess is that they perceive it as their 'host', and that the weapon has somehow been 'infected' by the wrong molecular vibration so they try to ... 'heal' it," Hansen replied, maintaining the organic reference. "The mess we're left with is probably the nanoprobes returning it to the proper quantum signature ... which really doesn't work very well in this universe."

"Were Seven's nanoprobes affected while she was here?"

Hansen looked at her in admiration. "Good question. That never crossed my mind." She keyed in some more data, going over her figures a few more times. "Assuming that the nanoprobes recognized the quantum vibration had been changed in the environment around the host, they would become ... more active, though that's just a guess."

"More active?"

Hansen shrugged. "More ... efficient. They'd work quicker, make the host around them work better, become more efficient, in an attempt to counteract the outside environment."

"Would that be dangerous?"

Hansen stared at her, then leaned over and kissed her. "It's just like you to be concerned about someone you had met only once," she murmured lovingly. "Don't forget, Seven has her own Kathryn to look out for her."

Johnson nodded. "I know," she said, a little shyly. "But perhaps they don't know. After all, it's doubtful they're working on a similar project that might allow them to discover this."

"True." Hansen grew pensive. "I don't think so," she said thoughtfully after a bit. "Seven is still partially Borg, after all, and still has the necessary cortical implant to moderate the nanoprobes. As soon as she returned to her own universe, the implant would send out a signal that would reprogram each nanoprobe, letting them know that the host was once more properly in sync with the quantum signature of the universe around it." She leaned back in the bed and closed her eyes, obviously wanting to get back to sleep. "I think any improvements they made to her system would remain, but the nanoprobes themselves wouldn't adapt any further."

"What would happen if she didn't have that implant ... to reformat the nanoprobes programming?" Johnson asked, a sick feeling sliding through her.

Hansen raised a brow, though she still didn't open her eyes. "I'm not sure. Without it, I guess they'd just continue to assume the host was still in a hostile environment, and try to adapt the host to defend against it."

Johnson's mouth dried instantly. "Would they eventually start to do to the host what they did to those weapon casings?" she husked. "Try to make it invulnerable to the outside universe, even if it meant eventually making it nonfunctional?"

Hansen sighed softly, sleepily. "I guess. Why?"

"My counterpart must have been assimilated by the Borg at one time," Johnson said. "Though all the implants had been removed, she still has the nanoprobes active in her system. At least, she did when she was here. Starfleet Medical included that in the report regarding her genetic resemblance to me."

That got Hansen's full attention, the young woman staring at her companion, horror edging her expression. "That's not good at all." She sat upright and took a deep breath. "Janeway's in trouble."

"What's the time period on this?" Johnson asked.

Hansen shook her head. "I don't know. The nanoprobes instantly adapt here ... but they're being placed in a 'wrong' host. They're in the right host there, and would probably 'improve' her as much as possible before replacing any organic components."

"They'd assimilate her," Johnson said flatly.

Hansen swallowed with difficulty. "Without the Collective or even the cranial implant to control how it's done. It could take months, maybe even years but I do think that once they start, it would be an exponential thing; the more they improved her, the faster they would adapt." Hansen put up a hand. "But I also think it would need a trigger to start it in the first place," she said, trying to put a perspective on it. "She would have to be physically attacked or something, injured in some major way for them to kick in their full protective mode."

Johnson swallowed hard. "She's a Starfleet captain, Annika. I think we can count on her having been injured at least once since she left here."

"Wonderful," Hansen muttered.

They were silent, both contemplating this possibility.

"What can we do?" Hansen offered finally with a sigh. "Not only are they probably still in the Delta Quadrant, they're a whole universe away. It's not like we can call them up and warn them."

"No," Johnson said, settling back down against the pillows, feeling weak and helpless again. "We can't. Even if we could, we can't offer a solution. We can't even fix the nanoprobes we have."

Hansen shifted so that she was closer to the smaller woman, putting her arm over Johnson's chest and draping a leg comfortingly over her groin. "They have our intellect, Kathryn," she soothed. "Even if the scenario we envisioned came to pass, I'm sure they'd figure it out. As for our nanoprobes, just give me a few weeks. I'll discover a way to make them work."

Johnson glanced over at her, raising an amused eyebrow at the utter confidence in the younger woman's tone. "I know you will." She closed her eyes and snuggled closer. "You always manage to find a way, don't you?"

"It's my job," Hansen noted softly. She reached over and kissed Johnson's ear, nuzzling her neck. "Now, what would you say if I found a way to make you feel better."

Johnson smiled.

"I'd say ... go right ahead."

Janeway fired her phaser, the beam causing the flying disc to rebound off the wall and shoot toward Commander Chakotay. Voyager's first officer reacted quickly for a man of his size, firing as he moved to strike the disc, and with a definite purpose, he imposed his body between the captain and the wall, reducing the area in which she could dodge by half. She took a few steps sideways, trying to brush by him in order to get a clear shot.

Chakotay abruptly went down, skidding across the deck until he was brought up short by the wall. Immediately the disc went neutral and shot to the ceiling, hovering there as the computer intoned; "Illegal interference, Janeway. Round to Chakotay. Chakotay wins, six to four."

Outraged, Janeway lowered her phaser. "I barely touched him," she complained, even as she knew the computer would not listen. She shot an accusing look at Chakotay who was lying on his back. "You took a dive."

"Ow," he replied.

She regarded him suspiciously for a moment, then realized that he really did have the wind knocked out of him. Confused, she went over to him, looking down. "Are you all right?"

"I'm sure I will be in a minute," he groaned, wincing as he tested his arms and legs. He looked at her oddly. "What did you do to me?"

"I swear, Chakotay," she said, "I was just brushing by you."

He frowned, then sat up gingerly. "I guess I must have been off balance." He didn't sound entirely convinced, but he grinned at her. "Of course, I still win."

"Oh, I don't think so," she protested immediately. "Clearly that was a faulty call by the computer. I can't be held responsible if you can't stay on your feet."

He got up stiffly. "On the contrary, captain, the computer is the final word. Apparently, your undefeated streak is over."

Her jaw firmed and her eyes flashed. "Only if this match consisted of a single round," she countered immediately. "It's the best two out of three."

"I don't remember agreeing to that."

"You just did, Commander," she said, leaning heavily on the rank as she took her position. "Computer, begin game."

He stared at her for a moment, and then with a sigh of resignation, he faced her, phaser at ready.

Two victorious rounds later, Janeway made her way back to her quarters, her undefeated streak still intact. She continued to be a little outraged at her first officer, unable to believe that Chakotay would try to steal a victory by using his own clumsiness. As if she could actually knock aside a man his size simply by brushing past him. She snorted silently to herself, and then smiled as she entered her cabin, spotting Seven behind the counter in her kitchenette, preparing dinner.

"Hello darling," she greeting, pausing for a kiss. "I need to shower and change."

"I anticipated that," Seven allowed, smiling briefly. She eyed the captain who was still in her Velocity outfit, sweat dampening her forehead, face flushed. "Did you win?"

"Don't I always?" Janeway said with a small smirk over her shoulder

She felt energized as she went into the ensuite, stripping off her outfit, tossing it into the recycler and activating the shower. The water seemed a little cool, and she increased the temperature, wondering why her normal setting didn't feel right. Must be a defective thermostat, she thought as the steam filled the air. She would have Seven take a look at it after dinner. She scrubbed herself down using the rough sponge, and got out, toweling herself off briskly. She chose a simple silk, cream-colored blouse and navy trousers, dressing quickly before returning to the living area where Seven had already set the table.

She spent most of the meal describing the Velocity match to Seven who made the appropriate sounds at Chakotay's perfidy, though she seemed to think that perhaps the captain was exaggerating a bit. Janeway gradually became aware of her partner looking at her oddly and she tilted her head.

"What?"

"That is your third helping," Seven pointed out. "You do not usually eat that much."

Janeway looked down at her plate in surprise. "I guess I'm hungry." She flashed a grin at the Borg. "I'm glad you made more than usual. I must have used a lot of energy in the match ... I needed refueling."

"No doubt," Seven said slowly. She was still looking at Janeway oddly. "In truth, I have been increasing the portions for you steadily over the past few weeks."

"You have?" Janeway glanced down at her trim form. "Good thing I'm burning it off."

"You are also acting in a very ... exhilarated manner. I did not realize a Velocity match would excite you so much."

Janeway thought about it. "It's not the match, Annika," she said finally. "I just feel ... I don't know ... fantastic. I'm just full of energy." She flashed a wide smile. "You should have seen Chakotay at the end. He could barely stand up. I guess there's life left in the old girl yet."

Seven blinked. "I am glad you are feeling so well. It pleases me."

Janeway regarded her, allowing her smile to become sensual. "I want to do more than this to please you," she murmured. "After dinner."

Seven looked briefly startled, then returned the smile. "I look forward to it."

Janeway smiled once more, and finished her dinner. Seven had a plateful of caramel brownies on the counter and the captain scooped up four for desert, snacking on them as she played with Jake who didn't seem too interested. Janeway decided that had to be due to his new schedule of spending time with all the dog lovers on the ship. They must have tired him out considerably for him not to be moving as quickly as she thought he should. Perhaps she would lighten the schedule a little.  Then she noticed that Seven had finished cleaning up the dining area and had just picked up a padd from her work console. The captain intercepted her by the desks.

"You can do that later, can't you?" the captain suggested gently, taking the padd from Seven's hand and placing it on the smooth surface of the desk.

"You were serious about making love?" Seven said with some surprise.

"Did you think I was just flirting?" Janeway asked, sliding her arms around the slender waist and nuzzling her lover's throat.

"I thought," Seven said in a appreciative tone, "that the energy you consumed in your Velocity match would result in your eventual lack of interest in any further expenditure."

"Oh, I'm still fresh." Janeway paused as a sudden thought struck her. "Unless you aren't interested?"

"I am always interested in being with you," Seven told her sincerely, if a trifle inaccurately, bending her head to brush her lips over Janeway's.

Janeway purred as she felt the full mouth on hers, running her hands over Seven's back and sides, sliding down to cup the Borg's buttocks and pulling her closer to her as the kiss deepened, growing passionate. Suddenly, she wanted her partner with an incredible urgency, and she reached up to the back of Seven's neck, tugging open the fastening there, peeling off the skintight outfit. Together, they stumbled to the bedroom, shutting the door behind them to keep out their dog who had an unfortunate habit of trying to join them whenever they made love, the animal believing it to be some sort of new game they were trying to show him.

"You seem ... anxious tonight," Seven said as she eased the silk shirt off the captain's shoulders.

"I just want you so much," Janeway murmured, tossing Seven's outfit aside. They fell to the bed and Janeway was all over her spouse, kissing and touching the young woman's body, using her lips and tongue to taste and tease every part of Seven.

Seven gasped, clearly surprised at the aggressiveness of Janeway's assault but trying to keep up, taking her cue from her partner's level of passion. Janeway gloried in the feel of Seven's body against her, aware this was a bit rougher than they normally made love, but enjoying it anyway. A few times, she had to consciously force herself to slow down, to gentle her touch, always on the verge of crossing the line between giving pleasure and being too abrupt with her caresses.

Afterward, she lay in Seven's arms, clinging to her, feeling the last tremors of orgasm shiver through her. She felt incredibly alive, acutely aware of every millimeter of Seven's skin pressed against her. Seven held onto her tightly, her face buried in the captain's hair, unusually quiet. Janeway drew back, gazing into her lover's face, studying the narrow features closely.

"Is something wrong, darling?" she asked softly, stroking the young woman's back.

"I do not know," Seven responded, frowning briefly. "That was ... different."

"How so?"

"You hurt me," the Borg replied. "Inadvertently. You do not usually do that."

Shocked, Janeway stared at her. "What? Where?"

"My shoulders, and on my back."

Janeway looked into the confused pale eyes, then glanced down at the pale smooth skin of Seven's torso. There were marks over Seven's chest and down her biceps, bluish red marks now darkening, and to Janeway's horror, there were defined imprints of her fingers where she had gripped the Borg's shoulders as she climaxed.

Seven did not bruise easily. It generally took a fairly substantial amount of pressure to even cause the skin to redden.

"What's going on here?" she said in a small voice, feeling adrift suddenly.

Either Seven was suddenly more fragile than she had ever been before ... or Janeway was much stronger. An abrupt image of her first officer appeared in her head, bent over as Chakotay desperately tried to breathe after she had defeated him in the final round. She, in contrast, had been breathing easily, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet, admittedly a little thirsty, but still ready to go. She had believed that Chakotay was in dire need of a conditioning program, but now she had to admit to herself that some of the shots she had managed were almost ... inhuman. Not to mention the unrelenting endurance that had gradually just beat him down every point.

She swallowed hard and pulled away from Seven. "Something's wrong." She looked over at her partner who was sitting up now, regarding her with concern. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Annika. I certainly didn't mean to. I didn't realize I was ... so strong."

"You are not," Seven said logically. "I am physically more powerful than you. I always have been."

"But I hurt you, without even thinking."

She looked at her hands as if she had never seen them before. Another memory crossed her mind, of being flung across the bridge and slamming into the science station. It should have killed her. Instead, she was repaired and back on her feet almost before Seven had gotten her to sickbay.

"Annika, I think ... it's the nanoprobes," she said in a low voice, willing it to a calmness she was far from feeling. "They're making me ... " she trailed off, uncertain what she was trying to say.

"More efficient?" Seven frowned. "In truth, I have noticed an improvement in my own efficiency recently." Her eyes met Janeway's squarely. "Not to this extent, however."

Janeway managed a brief smile, suspecting it was more like a death's head grin than anything else. "We'd better go see the Doctor."

Seven nodded.

"I believe that would be ... wise."

Hansen looked around, basking in the exhilaration of her team. It hadn't taken long to get her people back once she offered a solution for the nanoprobe problem, and together they were able to come up with a functioning warp coil in less than two months. In truth, she suspected it was what she learned from the nanoprobes that allowed her to make that final breakthrough, granting her the clarity of vision to realize she had been missing a key element in the structure. She decided that Starfleet was going to be pretty happy with the Olympia facility for awhile, which would translate into greater resources and funding being poured into the labs. After all, not only had they come with a way to reproduce the nanoprobes and make them work in phaser rifles, they now had provided an improved propulsion system which would give the Federation the very edge it needed to win the Dominion war with authority.

If only Kathryn was here to share the moment with her, she thought wistfully, aware that the Vice Admiral had taken a quick trip to Earth early that morning to offer a proposal to Starfleet Command. She wasn't sure what it was, but unquestionably, once the news of this hit, Johnson would have even more weight to throw behind her requests. Now that this project was over, Hansen had every intention of helping her ... even if it mean accepting a position on a starship with her lover, and spending the next five or ten years gallivanting all over the quadrant.

Quadrant? Hell, with this, they'd be cruising all over the galaxy.

Annika smiled and turned to the rest of her group. As she did, she happened to glance up to the catwalk high on the wall, located behind a glass partition that looked down on the lab. Spotting the distinct auburn head of a woman dressed in the black and gray uniform, her smile widened as she realized Johnson had returned sooner than expected, and she waved, not knowing if the Vice Admiral could see her in the sea of celebrating scientists. Surely Johnson knew that something special had happened, and could make a pretty good guess as to what it was.

Hansen forced her way through the people, accepting the handshakes and good wishes that were showered on her as she made her way to the door. As she entered the cool quiet of the corridor, she touched the comm badge attached to the left breast of her lab coat.

"Hansen to Vice Admiral Johnson," she said formally, schooling her voice to calm. There was a pause, and Hansen wondered if she had imagined the figure on the catwalk.

"Johnson here," said the beloved tones after a moment, cool and very proper as the Vice Admiral always was in public.

"Do you want to meet me in my quarters?" Hansen asked warmly. "There's some good news to celebrate, and I think I just happen to have a bottle of champagne in the cooler."

"That sounds wonderful," Johnson responded with a hint of humor. Then added, "I need a few moments to finish up something then I'll see you there. It will be nice to celebrate something for a change."

Hansen didn't know if she liked the sound of that, but she quickened her pace to her suite located in the habitat sector, a level down from where Starfleet and the Vice Admiral maintained their quarters. Although it occurred to her as she walked in and saw the mess that was her usual style of existing, that perhaps she should have suggested they meet in Johnson's quarters instead.

Quickly, the blonde scooped up the clothes scattered haphazardly about the place, dumping them onto the floor of her bedroom closet, then gathered up all the dirty dishes and spare padds littering the various tables and counters. She threw the padds on her work console where several stacks already teetered uncertainly, and shoved the dishes into the recycler where it hummed as it reduced them to their component atoms, storing their pattern in the replicator buffer for the next time. Hansen didn't have time to do anything about the dust, but she tried to plump up the pillows squashed into the furrows between the cushions.

She wondered if Johnson would ever ask her to share quarters with her and how much adjusting that would take. The Vice Admiral tended to keep her suite spartan and neat in the best Starfleet tradition, though Hansen was also aware the Vice Admiral had a lowly ensign for whom keeping the CO's quarters clean was part of his duties. Maybe if Hansen had a lackey, she decided, her place would be spotless all the time, too. She wondered if she did move in with Johnson, would the Vice Admiral's lackey automatically become hers as well?

The door chime sounded, and she made another sweep around the room, kicking an previously overlooked pair of tennis shoes underneath the sofa before she answered it. Vice Admiral Johnson regarded her sardonically, a brief smile on her lips as she entered.

"Did I give you enough time?"

"Enough time for what?" Hansen responded blankly.

"To clean up the worst of the debris," the older woman said with a smile as she sat down on the couch. She winced and leaned to the side, pulling out a padd out from beneath her and laying it gently on the coffee table.

Hansen made a face at her companion. "I'll have you know I have better things to do than worry about quarters maintenance." She paused. "Like building a functional transwarp coil."

Johnson's smile was wide, and quite genuine. "I hoped that was what the celebrating was about."

She held out her arms and Hansen went over eagerly, accepting the embrace that pulled her onto the couch next to the smaller woman. They kissed sweetly for a few moments, not only to share the joy of Hansen's success but to welcome the Vice Admiral home, and it took a few moments before the scientist drew back, regarding her lover fondly.

"It really works, Kathryn," she told her, enthusiasm edging her tone. "Another year, and Starfleet will be able to have half their deep space vessels modified."

"That's really good news," Johnson said sincerely. "I'm so proud of you."

Hansen blushed, honestly pleased at the compliment though from anyone else, she would have immediately brushed it off. "Thank you," she said shyly. Then her eyes narrowed as she studied her companion, taking in the lines around the eyes. "What's up?"

"Nothing," Johnson said in the sort of way Hansen knew was certainly something ... but not anything the Vice Admiral was ready to talk about right at the moment. The older woman offered a smile that appeared a little forced. "Did you mention champagne?"

Annika hesitated, wondering if she should pin down the elusive Starfleet officer, before deciding that a little bubbly might be just the thing to make Johnson a little more approachable. She smiled and kissed her again. "Give me a minute."

She uncoiled from the sofa, and went over to the small dining area where the table, replicator and wine cooler were located. Requesting a couple of champagne flutes from the replicator that obligingly materialized them, she placed them on the table, and  drew out a bottle of Chateau Picard '03 from the cooler. It had been a gift from her mother upon Annika's graduation from the Daystrom Institute five years earlier, and she had been saving it for a special occasion. This seemed like as good as any, particularly since Johnson was involved. She decided that the fact that Erin Hansen and her daughter couldn't stay in a room together for more than ten minutes without tangling about Annika's decision to work for Starfleet was not going to keep her from enjoying the vintage one iota.

She struggled with the cork, and Johnson rose from the couch.

"Allow me," she offered gently.

The Vice Admiral took the corkscrew and neatly inserted it, cracking open the bottle with a minimum of fuss, though Annika had hoped to get the traditional popping of the cork. It saved the wine from foaming up and losing a good portion of it on the suite carpeting. Johnson poured the golden fluid into the glasses and placed the bottle on the table, handing one of the glasses to the scientist.

"To you and your team." Johnson's eyes seem to soften and she raised her glass. "To your brilliance and tenacity which never wavered."

Annika smiled. "To you," she returned softly. "Who even when I drove you crazy, stood behind me to push me to heights I never thought I could reach."

They clinked their glasses as Johnson blushed and the Vice Admiral sipped at her champagne, clearly pleased by the toast. Hansen took a few long swallows though she didn't particularly like champagne all that much, then reached out for the Vice Admiral's hand.

"Come sit with me," she requested quietly.

They settled on the sofa once more, snuggled together side by side on the cushions.

"Can you tell me why you had to go to Earth so early this morning?" Hansen offered quietly, hoping she merely sounded curious rather than nosey.

Johnson regarded the glass in her hands. For a long moment, she didn't speak and Hansen thought that she wouldn't answer her query at all before the Vice Admiral took a deep breath, letting it out with almost a sigh.

"I wanted our next project to be opening a rift to the other universe. The one where Janeway and Seven are."

Hansen blinked, stunned. She had suspected a lot of possibilities, but not this.

"And?" she returned finally, after having considered a lot of other responses and discarding them.

"The admiral refused, of course. Apparently there isn't enough potential for future rewards." She tipped her glass up and took a few swallows. "I didn't have anything to convince her otherwise."

Hansen absorbed this, looking at it from all angles with her analytical mind. "Why do you want to?"

Johnson looked at her. She had allowed her normal impassiveness to slide away, leaving only the woman ... only Kathryn. She looked perplexed, yearning, as if not quite understanding it herself, but knowing it was something she needed to do nonetheless.

"Do you remember what we discussed about what the nanoprobes could do to their host?" At Hansen's nod, she continued. "It haunts me, Annika. I have to know Captain Janeway and Seven are all right. I don't know why, I just do."

"All right," Hansen said, biting back her first incredulous response. "How do you propose we do this."

Johnson shot her a look of gratitude for her companion's easy acceptance of what must have been very difficult for the Vice Admiral to confide.

"I've been studying the data we accumulated when they returned to their own dimension," Johnson revealed, animation lacing her tone as she spoke. "I think if we can find a way to match the quantum signature of that universe to a vessel, specifically Voyager, within this one, it can open up a doorway to their Voyager over there, regardless of where it happens to be."

"This universe's Voyager is in mothballs," Hansen pointed out delicately. "I don't even think it has any atmosphere left at this point."

That was still a wee bit of a sore spot with Johnson. The ship's gel packs, a state-of-the-art engineering breakthrough five years earlier, had turned out to be very fragile and inefficient for continuing use. Upon its return to the Alpha Quadrant, the ship was decommissioned rather than upgraded for use in the fleet. It was currently drifting in a stationary orbit in the Utopia Planetia shipyards off Mars. Hansen had suspected that Starfleet might have been keeping it back in order to test the new transwarp coil on it, but with all the decisions that had come down recently, it was hard to tell. Still, it was unusual that an Intrepid-class vessel was left to sit for no reason at all.

"That may be changing very soon," Johnson said mysteriously. "The real problem is the energy requirements such an attempt would require." She glanced at Annika shyly, from beneath her lashes. "Maybe you could go over the numbers, give me something concrete?"

Hansen quirked an eyebrow. Johnson seemed pretty serious about this ... far more than she had anticipated. "I could do that."

Johnson beamed and Hansen wondered if she had just stepped into something she shouldn't have. She took a breath, putting up a hand to slow her companion. "When I get a chance," she added. "The next phase of the transwarp coil project is going to start immediately, and I suspect I'm going to be quite busy. Now we have to see if we can get a ship with an integrity field strong enough to fly at that speed."

Johnson frowned. "Could you look at my data tonight?"

Hansen regarded her narrowly. "I suppose so."

Johnson was immediately off the couch and across the room to Hansen's work console, pushing aside the stacks of padds, some of which fell to the carpet without the woman seeming to notice. Hansen was really disturbed at this point and she got up more slowly, moving over to look over the Vice Admiral's shoulder as Johnson brought up the files from the Starfleet data base. They had a lot of classified overlays to them, and Hansen wondered idly how Johnson was able to get into them so easily, or why she would go through all the necessary and extensive documentation needed to retrieve them.

It never once occurred to her that perhaps Johnson hadn't acquired them through proper channels.

Hansen's eyes narrowed as she went over the equations being displayed, and she reached by Johnson who settled back in the chair, allowing the younger woman access to the touch pad. Hansen keyed a few commands in, then raised an eyebrow.

"Honestly, Kathryn," she murmured. "This would take an amazing amount of power. If you had Voyager in mind to do this, not only would her dismantled engines and warp core have to be replaced, we'd need to increase the power output at least tenfold. I can't see it happening."

Johnson nodded though she didn't seem particularly surprised by Hansen's findings. "I had considered that." She paused. "There is another way."

"Really?" Hansen offered, glancing at her companion. The even blue gray eyes were evaluating her steadily, a glint in them that the younger woman could not translate ... not immediately. Johnson was patient, however, and it finally dawned on Annika ... along with a great deal of dismay. "No, Kathryn. Oh, no."

"It would work though, wouldn't it?" Johnson pressed as Hansen walked away from her, pacing animatedly about the living room. "If we combined projects?"

"Oh god, Kathryn," Hansen said, staring at her as if the Vice Admiral had lost her mind. "You can't possibly be suggesting what I think you're suggesting."

"If I can get Voyager to be used as the test vessel for your transwarp coil," Johnson said calmly. "It would have more than enough power."

Hansen shook her head, eyes wide. "This isn't like you, Kathryn. How would you get this past Starfleet? They've already turned you down."

"That was before I knew we had a functional transwarp coil," Johnson reminded her. She paused. "Besides, we wouldn't have to tell them. The nature of any tests is entirely up to the project head ... me ... if I can get the civilian scientist team leader ... that's you ... to agree." She tilted her head slightly. "Do you agree?"

Hansen was speechless. "Why do you want to do this?" she asked finally, in a faint voice.

"Because, we owe them," Johnson barked, suddenly energized as she bounded from her seat. "For our relationship, for being able to look at each other as more than merely roles we resented." Her face was suddenly ablaze with passionate resolve, and what Hansen recognized with a distinct thrill, was command authority. "Now our counterparts are probably in trouble by virtue of having visited this reality, and by the time they realize it, it could be too late for them to find the same kind of solution we did to stabilize the out-of-sync nanoprobes. My god, it took you months to find the proper commands to reformat the nanoprobes. All we need is to be able to contact them and tell them what to do." She looked at Hansen pleadingly, hands clenched into fists. "I need to do this, Annika," she added, her voice carefully controlled. "Will you help me?"

Hansen swallowed hard. She had never seen her companion like this. It was almost as if Johnson was finding herself again, finding the captain that had been buried deep inside, smothered under the layers of protocols and regulations. The young woman found it astounding and ... she had to admit ... incredibly attractive. Who would have thought? Kathryn Johnson, a rebel ... not the by-the-book commander Hansen had always assumed she'd been. Was this how she had been in the Delta Quadrant with only herself to rely on?

"All right, I'll help you." She frowned. "It could take months though," she added warningly. "It might be too late by then."

"It won't be too late," Johnson told her with absolute assurance. "We'll get to them in time." She smiled, a heartbreakingly vivid and reckless smile. "In any event, we'll have tried."

"That's all that really counts."

Seven leaned over the biobed, trying to smile encouragingly as she looked down on her partner, noting that yet another starburst had appeared on the beloved face, and that more of the lovely auburn hair had fallen away. Only a few clumps remained now, a few strands hanging limply from the white, mottled skin that sported more than a few of the black and silver implants. Despite the Doctor's best effort, despite all of Seven and B'Elanna's extensive knowledge, the assimilation continued to progress, though their combined efforts had managed to slow it somewhat.

The red rimmed eyes, still blue gray though overlaid with a silver sheen, blinked and focused on Seven.

"Hello darling," Janeway whispered.

Lying on her back, immobilized by the machines fighting a losing battle against the millions of nanoprobes that were shutting down the Starfleet captain, little remained of the vital woman Janeway had been only two weeks before.

"How are you feeling?" Seven asked, knowing the question was inane, but unable to come up with anything better. Tentatively, she stroked her partner's cheek, the skin feeling parchment thin over the hard, metallic shell beneath. The Borg didn't even know if her partner could even feel her touch any more.

The lips, dry and parched, twitched briefly. "Not so good," Janeway responded softly. Though there was a hint of the old, defiant humor in her tone, it was mostly gone now. Her words were a trifle slurred, as if she was having trouble structuring them. "I can't move my neck anymore."

Seven blinked rapidly, refusing to let loose the tears stinging the back of her eyes. "We will find a way," she said desperately. "We will."

"I know." The eyes brightened a bit; though from anger or encouragement, Seven could not tell.

"I will fix this, Kathryn," Seven said again.

She felt so frightened, so completely helpless. Her wife was being turned into a metal construct right before her eyes and she could not stop it, her vaunted intellect unable find a way to help her. She had been up for days, working feverishly, driving the other crewmembers around her unmercifully, though any one of them would have gladly given their life if it meant a cure for the captain.

"We have been prodding at Harry Kim a great deal," she added, trying hard for something, anything positive. "His nanoprobes are remaining dormant. We think it is because he was injected with reconstructed ones that the Doctor enhanced rather than being assimilated as we were. Logically, therefore, it has to be the Borg element. We are also studying my nanoprobes. They show the same kind of enhancement yours does, but they ceased their advancement at a certain point. If we can determine why they stopped, perhaps we will be able to stop yours."

Janeway regarded her evenly. "Leaving me in this state?" The tip of her tongue reached out, ran over her lips though it held no moisture to wet them at all. "Annika, I once told you I would always choose life whenever possible, and I didn't understand why you wouldn't, no matter what. I believe I do, now."

"Kathryn," Seven said weakly. "Please do not say that."

"Annika, I don't want to live the rest of my life like this," the captain rasped. "Promise me ... if the only choice is between this state and not ... saving me, then you'll let me go."

"I will not," Seven told her furiously. "I will not let you go." She could no longer hold back the tears. "If you die, I will follow the very next moment. I swear that to you."

"Annika ..." Janeway began.

"No!" Seven leaned closer. "I will not give up on you, Kathryn. Do not dare to give up on yourself. Or on me."

Janeway's eyes closed. A single tear appeared at the corner of her right one, trembled for a brief instance, then slid slowly down the hollowed cheek. Seven had thought the captain's tear ducts had become nonfunctional. She discovered she had been wrong.

"All right," Janeway said finally, in a shaky voice. "I promise ... I'll fight to the end."

"Thank you," Seven whispered, almost overcome with relief. She lay her head down on the chest that was bulging from the mutated thoracic implant covering the woman's torso from her neck down, merging into the misshapen abdominal ridging where Janeway's stomach had been.

"Annika," Janeway husked.

Seven raised her head so that the captain could see her face.

"Yes, Kathryn."

"I don't know how much longer ... I'll be able to speak," Janeway said. "It's already ... hard for me to form words."

"Have faith, Kathryn."

"Come closer."

Seven did, bending over her until there was only a breath between them.

"I love you, Annika," Janeway said intently, enunciating each word with exquisite care. "I always will, no matter what form I end up. You have brought joy to my life in so many ways, have opened my heart and my soul to a passion and energy I have never known and would never have known had you not loved me. You are the best thing that ever happened to me, Annika Hansen ... Seven of Nine, my darling heart. To be married to you, to have shared the past two years with you, has given me a lifetime's worth of happiness. Don't ever doubt that. Keep it forever close to you no matter what happens."

"I love you, Kathryn," Seven whispered, unable to say anything else. "I always shall." She bent closer and gently pressed her lips against the captain's, tasting the salt sweet flavor of their combined tears. "Continue to live, my love. Please, just continue to live."

"I'll do my best," Janeway said quietly, her eyes sliding shut. The small store of reserve she maintained became quickly exhausted during these brief periods of consciousness. She was sleeping 20 hours a day now, worn out by the constant battle to hold onto her rapidly disappearing humanity and the heavy combination of drugs.

With difficulty, Seven straightened, lingering a moment to gently brush her fingertips over the captain's mouth, feeling the regular warm breath flow over them. She composed herself with an effort and turned away. The captain was being held in an isolated part of sickbay, bio-insular force fields surrounding her bed, and the Borg stepped through one, her cranial implant synchronized with the energy field to allow her passage without problems. The Doctor and Sek were waiting for her. Not for the first time, Seven was profoundly grateful the medical staff were holograms. They never became tired, they never ceased their research, never paused in their dedication to finding a way to stop this creeping horror.

Never had Seven hated her Borgness as much as she did this moment. She had cause to profoundly regret her initial assimilation, had been furious with the Collective for what it had done to her, but never had she hated the microscopic machines functioning within her cells as she did now. She had always considered them tools, nothing more. Now they had a personality, an insidious, malicious intent, and she despised them with everything she was. The knowledge that she was responsible for this, that she had been the one to assimilate Janeway so many months ago, was like a dagger stabbing through her with every breath she took.

"Can we do anything for you?" Sek asked gently, the slender woman's blue eyes compassionate as she put her hand on Seven's forearm.

"No," Seven said shortly, her tone clipped as it always was now. Only with the captain did she allow her humanity to come through. "Continue to do what you must for Kathryn's comfort."

The Doctor was less easy to put off.

"When did you last sleep?"

"I do not require sleep."

"Yes, you do," he countered with unrelenting firmness. "You won't do the captain or yourself any good if you collapse." He paused, his dark eyes studying her. "If I have to, Seven, I'll sedate you."

She stared at him. "You would not dare."

"Yes, I would." For a long moment, they regarded each other, neither giving way.

Finally, Seven's eyes dropped. She could not remember ever losing such a battle of wills before with anyone, but Kathryn. Perhaps, she was too tired to function.

"Do not sedate me," she said, her tone altering to one of  a plea.

He hesitated, then nodded. "Go to your quarters and rest, for at least four hours. You need that much."

Seven's shoulders slumped. "Very well."

She left sickbay, heading for the turbolift. She did not believe she would be able to sleep, but she knew that the doctor was correct when he said exhaustion would be detrimental to her efforts to help her partner. She needed her mind working at full capacity to find a solution to this ... something that was impossible since it was constantly on Kathryn and her condition. But she would allow herself a certain amount of rest, and perhaps that would allow her to tackle the problem from a fresh perspective.

She desperately needed a fresh perspective. This one felt hopeless.

As the turbolift doors opened, the ship suddenly shuddered, the power flickering. When it returned, it was only in emergency mode, as if something had abruptly drained the vessel of all its energy. She stood for a moment in frozen, sleep deprived-indecision, not knowing if she should return to sickbay and check on Kathryn, or head for the bridge where she knew the captain would expect her to go, to assist the ship in facing whatever threat this was. Chakotay's voice over the comm channel shook her out of her lethargy.

"Senior staff to the bridge. Red alert. We're under attack."

"Ahead, one quarter impulse," she ordered, absorbing the feel of her ship as it eased out of the dry dock where it had been undergoing a complete overhaul in the station above Earth's northern hemisphere ... just as it had been all those years ago when she had departed for Deep Space 9. A lifetime ago it seemed, when Voyager was newly built and her name had been Janeway, and she was only going to spend a week or so chasing about the Bajoran badlands to retrieve her security chief from the Maquis.

She glanced over at the dark skinned Vulcan operating the tactical console, just as he had for so many years in the Delta Quadrant. She had called Tuvok a month ago, and without asking any questions, he had left his posting on Vulcan as Starfleet liaison to the Science Academy to take up this role, just as if he had never left. It was a comfortable feeling to see him there, one that warmed her heart and left her almost aching from the sheer happiness of it.

Behind her and to the left, the short form of Ensign Nog worked the operations board. Johnson knew the young Ferengi had an artificial leg, a legacy of a wound received in a battle with the Jem'Hadar. This would be a change for him, a science mission rather than one that was purely military as he worked his way back to active duty in the regular fleet. She hoped he would appreciate the change of pace after such a traumatic time.

To the front of the bridge, the stiff-backed Ensign Ro Laren manned the helm, her slender hands moving lightly over the controls as she obeyed the captain's orders. Fresh out of a Federation penal colony, the Starfleet officer-turned-Maquis-turned Starfleet reclamation project kept her eyes front and center. What was this? Johnson wondered idly. The Bajoran woman's third chance at redemption? Her fourth?

Johnson didn't care. Frankly, it wouldn't have seemed right not to have an ex-convict at the helm of Voyager. She swallowed the laugh that bubbled up inside her, and glanced over at her acting exec and science officer for this mission, Lt. Annika Hansen, who was frowning as she studied the readouts on her monitor. The young blonde had been forced to accept an honorary commission to be able to continue as science team leader, and despite a lot of grumbling and complaints that her parents would never speak to her again after this, she put on the uniform and stuck the two gold pips on her collar.

Two other scientists who, because they were not in charge of the mission could retain their civilian status, manned the engineering and science stations respectively, maintaining a constant monitor on the transwarp coil which resided side by side with the new warp engines which had been installed on Voyager.

"Engine room," Johnson said calmly. "Prepare for warp."

"Aye, Captain," the thick Scottish brogue returned. "She'll be purring for ye in no time."

"Thank you, Mr. Scott," Johnson said, repressing a smile. "Stand by."

She did not have to look to know Hansen was regarding her with that same odd expression she had