• This is the 22nd installment of the Just Between Series.
• This story was written and posted near the end of July, 1999 after the end of the fifth season of Voyager and the events in Equinox.

Seven of Nine, astrometrics officer for the USS Voyager, strode briskly down the corridor that led to engineering. She intended to have lunch with her friend, Lt. B'Elanna Torres, regardless of what obstacle might form to prevent it. It seemed to the young woman that, lately, the chief engineer had not been as available to the young Borg as she had in the past. Of course, they were still attending their 'Starfleet Academy' classes together, but where once they had many opportunities to indulge in recreational pursuits, recently it seemed that the Klingon simply did not have time for Seven. Nor was it due to the extra duties currently involving the crew.

Seven was determined that today they would have lunch, no matter what. She entered main engineering, the heart of the starship, feeling the throb of the warp core vibrate subtly through her feet as she walked across the deck. Her eyes scanned the area restlessly, seeking out the stocky form of her friend.

Not far away, Ensign Vorik, the young Vulcan male with the elegantly pointed ears, lifted his head.

"If you are looking for Lt. Torres, she is in Jeffries tube ten," he offered in his polite, even tones.

"Thank you," she said gratefully and turned around. She must have just missed B'Elanna.

A turbolift journey later, she discovered her friend, not in the Jeffries tube as she had expected, but outside the juncture, near the armory. Standing next to her, Lt. Ro Laren was talking quietly with the engineer. The tall, willowy Bajoran was supervising the weekly inventory of the compression phaser rifles, and Seven was hesitant as she approached. She had wanted to take the opportunity to apologize to B'Elanna for any misunderstandings they had been experiencing, but she didn't feel she could while the other woman was present.

"Hello, Seven," Ro greeted politely.

"Hey, Seven," B'Elanna noted with less enthusiasm.

Seven thought that was because the Klingon was afraid she was going to press the case for Lt. Paris in an attempt to reunite the ex-lovers. That was the other thing Seven wished to explain to her friend. She had spoken to the fair-haired helmsman, and had been released from her promise to assist him in 'wooing' B'Elanna.

She dipped her head at Ro, in recognition of her greeting, and looked directly at B'Elanna.

"I wish to share lunch with you," she said. "If that is agreeable."

B'Elanna's face darkened slightly, though the Borg did not know why.

"Actually, Seven, I just asked Laren to go to lunch with me," the Klingon said with a bit of discomfort.

Seven blinked. "Ah," she said, which was a sound she had developed when she wasn't sure how to respond. It seemed a more acceptable response somehow, than her normal blank stare. She was disappointed that she had been too late, yet a part of her wondered if B'Elanna shared her regret.

Ro looked at both women, a faint smile on her fine-boned features as she raised an eyebrow.

"Why don't we all go to lunch together?" she suggested evenly.

She glanced at Seven and to the Borg's surprise, abruptly took her arm, nudging her toward the turbolift. Somewhat charmed, Seven allowed herself to be guided by the Bajoran, not noticing the displeased glower on the face of the Klingon who trudged after them.

The messhall, center of community for the starship, was fairly crowded with the lunch break for the alpha shift in full swing. Seven saw that Harry Kim, and his new bride, Megan Delaney, were off in the corner, sharing a bite before returning to their duties. Lt. Paris was with them and Seven noted that the young helmsman did not even look over as the trio of women entered. She hoped this meant he was finally and truly over the chief engineer.

Seven and her companions stopped by the big food replicators that dominated one wall of the large room, and made their selections. Taking the trays that materialized over to a free table that had just been vacated by four crewmembers from geometrics, the three women took a seat. Seven had chosen a chicken salad, along with a glass of apple juice, while Ro had replicated a Bajoran dish that the Borg did not recognize. Seven was surprised when B'Elanna repeated that selection for herself. The young woman hadn't even known the Klingon liked Bajoran food, but it was one more clue in the puzzle she was slowly starting to piece together.

The Borg regarded Ro curiously as they sat down. The last few months had thrown the two women together in a variety of situations, mostly away missions, and that had allowed her to get to know the slender Bajoran a bit better. Seven had been astounded to discover that the woman had been hiding her true identity beneath a sullen, withdrawn cover, that the Maquis had actually been a former Starfleet officer. In a cavern on a planet light-years back, the secret was revealed, and now that Janeway had reinstated Ro's commission, it seemed that the woman was finally able to show herself for the competent, accomplished officer she was capable of being. In fact, Tuvok had promoted Ro to his second in command the previous week, and the Maquis insignia on the Bajoran's collar had been replaced by the two gold pips of a Starfleet senior lieutenant.

"How are things in astrometrics?" she asked the Borg.

Seven blinked, glanced at B'Elanna who was frowning faintly at her, and raised an eyebrow. "Functional."

"Good." Ro glanced at B'Elanna, smiled faintly again, then began to eat.

Bemused, Seven tentatively prodded her salad, acutely aware of the somewhat uncomfortable silence that fell over them. B'Elanna finally piped up with her own question to Seven, regarding her friend with a somewhat suspect attentiveness.

"What's the status on your end of Operation Newborn?"

Recently, a virus which had spread through the crew had resulted in several unexpected and unplanned pregnancies, with possibly ten new offspring being added to the ship within four more months. Everyone in the crew was working feverishly to prepare the ship, in addition to their regular duties, and it made for long shifts. Seven, along with a portion of the biometrics department, had been assigned to transform cargo bay two into a 'park' for the newcomers.

"We are proceeding at a satisfactory rate," Seven responded evenly. "The equipment has been fully installed, and now it is merely a matter of waiting for the plants to grow. In the meantime, I am assisting in the power grid requirements on deck two."

"I never would have pegged you as a gardener, Seven," Ro remarked.

Seven raised an eyebrow. "It is more Ensign Wildman who is directing the project. I am merely structuring and installing the power systems needed for the hydroponics aspect of the area."

"But you are doing all the technical work, right?" Ro offered. "To make this planned park an actuality?"

The Borg wondered why the two women were directing their inquiries to her when it was becoming increasingly clear that they would rather be speaking to each other. She fixed her gaze on them, making sure she had their complete attention. "Explain."

Ro blinked. "Excuse me?"

B'Elanna, far more familiar with Seven, looked alarmed.

Seven raised an eyebrow. "You both prefer to be with each other. I am intruding. Yet Lt. Ro, you insisted on bringing me along to this lunch. Why?"

B'Elanna closed her eyes while a slightly sheepish look crossed Ro's face.

"She is very honest, isn't she?" the Bajoran noted ruefully to the chief engineer.

"Always," B'Elanna said gloomily. "Not much gets past her."

Seven waited patiently through the short pause that followed.

"I like Laren," B'Elanna finally mumbled. "A lot."

"You wish her to be your friend now rather than me," Seven said calmly, though she felt far less than calm inside.

B'Elanna seemed astonished. "No, Seven. Where did you get that idea?"

Ro glanced at her. "Perhaps by the way you've been so rude to her lately?" she suggested, arching a thin, dark brow.

B'Elanna frowned, regarding the Bajoran with some confusion, then she looked at Seven.

"Have I been rude to you?" she asked, her features baffled.

Seven hesitated. "It has seemed that you no longer wish to be my friend."

B'Elanna looked down at the table, suddenly embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Seven. I didn't mean to. I just ... you were really aggravating me so much with the Paris thing."

Seven nodded regretfully. "Yes, I see that now. I did not mean to annoy you. I was attempting to help you both." She paused. "I do not wish you to be lonely, B'Elanna."

"I can handle my own love life," B'Elanna stated, obviously aggravated, though whether that was from the actual wish from the Borg about her state of existence, or the fact that Seven had said it in front of someone else.

There was an elegant little snort from the direction of Lt. Ro. B'Elanna ignored it.

"I understand," Seven said, gratified that they seemed to be making peace. "I have spoken to Lt. Paris, and am no longer representing him in this manner. I am sorry, B'Elanna."

The Klingon waved it off. "That's okay."

Ro looked at them both sardonically. "Now that you have that settled, can we finish our lunch?"

Seven glanced at her. "Is that why you invited me? So that B'Elanna and I could make amends?"

"Partially," Ro allowed, developing a sudden interest in her meal.

Seven waited but nothing more was forthcoming from the reticent Bajoran, and she found herself exchanging looks with B'Elanna. Together, both of them turned to stare pointedly at Ro until the woman literally began to twitch under their scrutiny.

"What?" she demanded finally, raising her dark eyes to glare at them both.

"You said 'partially'," B'Elanna said. "What's the other part?"

"You don't want to know."

Seven raised an eyebrow. "If that were the case, why respond with a less than precise response to my previous question?"

Ro frowned.

"All right, if honesty is the mode of the day." She turned to B'Elanna. "Frankly, you've been pushing me a little hard lately. I thought bringing Seven along would temper you a little, make you back off a bit."

Seven was intrigued by this statement that she did not entirely understand, but the sudden flush which sent the blood darkening B'Elanna's cheekbones let her know the Klingon certainly did.

"Do you really think you need a body guard?" Torres asked defensively, her dark eyes centered on Ro. "I thought Bajoran women were supposed to be passionate."

"We are," Ro responded with outrage. "But we liked to be romanced a little, not stalked like prey."

B'Elanna blinked at her in confusion. "Romanced? You mean, with flowers or something?"

"That would be nice," Ro noted with a certain amount of asperity. "At least that would show you're interested in more than just my body."

"Well, you haven't sent me flowers either. You never ask me out. It's always me asking you."

Fascinated, Seven spent the rest of the lunch break learning about how Klingons and Bajorans established their territorial boundaries when it came to romance, gratified that she had somehow managed to get them discussing it. Because it was apparent that they had both been flailing around using the trial and error method prior to her intervention.

Janeway smiled faintly, and listened as she dozed in the warm sheets, enjoying the obvious contentment of her partner. She couldn't remember ever hearing Seven sing to herself like that before. Clearly, Seven had advanced enough in her progression to Humanity to do something so idle, so illogical, so uniquely Human as to sing just for the sheer joy of singing.

The third time Seven repeated the song, however, Janeway was less enthused with her partner's growth as a Human being, and was wondering if the woman knew any other songs. The sixth time Seven swung into the opening stanza of You Are My Sunshine, Janeway was compelled to sit up.

"Annika?" she said, carefully keeping her voice even.

The singing stopped abruptly. "Yes, Kathryn."

"Could you possibly sing a different song?"

"Yes, Kathryn." Immediately, Seven began the standard Starfleet funeral dirge, Amazing Grace.

Janeway winced. Though Seven's version was lovely, she knew exactly where her partner had picked up that one. All the recent memorial services required for deceased crewmembers, had ended with that hymn being sung as the torpedo casing containing the body was slowly loaded into the tube, and fired into the nearest star.

"Annika."

"Yes, Kathryn," Seven replied, aborting her song.

"Can you sing something else, please?"

Seven paused. "I only know those two songs."

Janeway blinked. "What about those songs you sang in the holodeck during the Hirogen incident? The one where you were a lounge singer?"

"I have no memory of actually being a lounge singer, Kathryn." Seven hesitated. "And none of the songs in their entirety. How do you remember them?"

Janeway thought about it for a moment, and finally realized she had viewed ship logs pertaining to that time not long after the Hirogen had been cleared off her ship. It was shortly before she and Seven had become intimately involved, and the captain remembered how, in her quarters late at night, she would often replay the recording where Seven was in the slinky silver dress, warbling old World War II songs. She must have forgotten to tell her spouse about that ackwardly romantic secret.

She blushed. "Uh, from when I checked the logs. In any event, could you learn some different songs? Just for the sake of variety?"

"Very well."

There was another pause as Janeway heard her partner's footsteps cross the room, then quiet beeps and clicks sounded as Seven accessed her work console. Janeway stifled a sigh and lay back down, shutting her eyes once more. This was the first off duty rotation she had experienced in some time, and she was determined to enjoy it to the fullest. She snuggled down into the linens, and felt herself start to drift off once more.

She was abruptly jolted awake as Seven began singing at the top of her lungs ... as her research undoubtedly suggested she do for this particular tune ... the unmistakable lyrics to the Starfleet Academy ditty, What do You do with a Drunken Vulcan? Janeway had no idea what would possess Seven to choose that one, but she knew she didn't like it.

"Seven!" Janeway shouted to be heard over the words Seven was lustily belting out.

Silence.

"Yes, Kathryn?" Polite, infinitely patient, completely tolerant of her partner's unfathomable moods upon waking up.

Janeway sighed again, thinking hard.

"Why don't you find a quieter song?"

Seven suddenly appeared in the doorway, regarding her partner with a puzzled expression. To Janeway's surprise, the Borg was dressed in a Starfleet issued t-shirt that was a bit too small, and baggy, thigh-length shorts. Her feet were bare, her hair was down, and she looked absolutely adorable. Janeway had assumed that Seven was on duty, and had only stopped by the quarters for a brief time. To see her like this meant that she was not on duty at all, a fact which made Janeway's heart pound pleasantly.

"Perhaps you could be more specific in your request?" Seven tilted her head as she studied her partner.

Janeway smiled suddenly with what she hoped was obvious, sensual interest. "Darling, there's a song you sing so well," she offered, patting the mattress beside her invitingly. "And so loudly." That was actually a fallacy. Of the two women, Janeway was far more vocal and expressive while experiencing pleasure. The captain offered her best come hither expression, dropping her voice to a husky trill. "I love hearing it so much."

"Which is?" Seven asked, not budging as she raised an eyebrow inquiringly.

Janeway leaned back on the pillows, allowing the sheet to slip down until her torso was fully exposed. "The one that involves singing my name over and over until you can't quite verbalize it anymore."

Seven looked mildly intrigued by this, but the captain realized she was going to have to work a lot harder than that to entice the Borg back to bed during what was essentially the late morning. A quick glance at the chronometer by the captain confirmed that it was already 1135 hours, almost time for lunch, and no doubt Seven was already making preparations. Janeway feigned a look of sadness.

"Of course, if you don't want to make love to me, what about a kiss good morning at least." She offered her most pathetic tone.

Seven immediately moved toward her, frowning faintly. "I did not mean to imply that I did not want to make love to you."

Janeway, for whom getting Seven on the bed was the first step to getting her in the bed, moved over to make room as Seven sat down on the edge of the mattress beside her.

"I was just teasing," the captain told her honestly, sliding her arms around her partner's neck. "I was hoping it would get you over here."

"Ah," Seven said. She considered it with a certain amount of approval. "It was efficient."

Janeway quirked an eyebrow. "Now that I have you, I'm not apt to let you go."

"I am not resisting," Seven pointed out quite logically as she snugged her arms around Janeway's reclining form, the couple sinking down onto the sheets with the Borg half lying on top of the captain. Janeway welcomed the young woman's weight, pulling her down even further, accepting the sweet touch of Seven's lips against her own gratefully.

"I've missed you so much," she murmured between the lovely, slow, melting kisses.

"I have been on the ship," Seven responded, nibbling gently at Janeway's bottom lip. "We see each other often."

Janeway smiled sadly, the emotion real this time. "I know, but that's in a professional capacity, and it's not the same. Between the new ship operation, and your classes, and our double shifts, you're usually going out the door while I'm coming in. I'm often asleep when you do get in for the night, and when I wake up, you're already gone. I miss being with you." A sudden qualm hit her. "You miss that too, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Seven reassured her. "That is why I switched with Ensign Delaney so that I could share this off duty rotation with you."

The realization made Janeway's heart melt. "You did?"

"I wanted to spend the day with you." Seven favored the captain with a tender, loving look. "I have missed you very much as well, Kathryn."

"I wish I'd known," Janeway said ruefully. "I wouldn't have slept in so long."

Seven shook her head. "You do not have the opportunity to do so, often. Nor did I have any intention of waking you. I am sorry if my singing disturbed you. I did not even realize I was singing, until you spoke."

"You never disturb me," Janeway assured her. "Except in the way I love to be disturbed."

She relaxed as Seven kissed her again, and then again, filling her senses with the young woman's taste and touch. She was acutely aware of the bedding between them as well as Seven's clothes, and she ran her hands down her partner's sides, seeking the hem of the shirt and tugging on it.

"Where did you get this?" she asked as Seven drew back, allowing Janeway to pull the garment over her head.

"This is one of your t-shirts," Seven told her. "I replicated the shorts for our honeymoon, but I did not think to wear them outside the holodeck and the beach setting until now. It seemed inappropriate."

"Why inappropriate?" Janeway asked, helping her partner wiggle out of the shorts, the clothes discarded casually on the floor.

"I could not decide finally. That is why I decided to wear them today rather than my biometric outfit. I was just very tired of wearing my suits, particularly since I have been on duty so much lately."

"Well, I like you in these clothes," Janeway told her sincerely. "You look very sexy wearing them."

"'Sexy'?" Seven quirked a quizzical eyebrow.

"Desirable," Janeway elaborated.

"I do?" Seven was clearly surprised.

"Of course," Janeway pointed out as the Borg slipped between the sheets with her, "you look desirable in everything."

"That is because you are insatiable," Seven said in a serious tone.

Janeway smiled. "Do you know what that word really means, Seven?" she asked as she was enfolded into the strong, slender arms, her body pressing sweetly against smooth, silken skin. She inhaled deeply, basking in the warmth and scent of her spouse.

"It means you cannot get enough sex," Seven replied as her hands moved lazily over the captain's body.

"Yes, but it's not an accurate term for me, Annika. You're the one I can't get enough of, not sex. I lived quite nicely without sex for five years." She reconsidered and added with a crooked grin, "Well, maybe not 'nicely', but I managed."

"Oh," Seven said. She blinked and looked at her partner. "Thank you for clarifying that." She hesitated. "I have wondered on occasion what you did prior to our becoming involved. You did not even have an accessory."

Janeway laughed out loud. "I tried hard not to think about it very often. When I absolutely couldn't help myself, let's just say I took matters into my own hands."

Seven considered that, enlightenment slowly dawning in her pale eyes. "Indeed?" she said, in a rather odd tone.

Intrigued by the expression, Janeway studied her. "Does that ... bother you for some reason?" she asked, a grin quirking the corners of her mouth.

Seven shook her head briefly. "No. It is merely that I did not consider you to be so ... self sustaining."

Janeway smirked. "That's a nice way of putting it."

Seven looked pensive. "I have never ... pleasured myself. At least, not without you watching, which takes away from the solitary aspect of it. You mentioned that it is not as pleasurable as when two people are together."

"It's not as wonderful as when we're together," Janeway corrected. "But it can be ... quite pleasant otherwise."

The captain wondered, not for the first time, how she managed to get into these conversations with her spouse. She had learned over time not to give Seven too much information at once, limiting her response to what the Borg was specifically inquiring about at that particular moment, rather than leading her spouse down confusing paths, but it was still a discomforting experience on occasion. Janeway suspected it would be good training for when the children arrived. Knowing how to answer painfully honest, and potentially embarrassing questions would be a very useful skill to have.

"Have you ... pleasured yourself in the past month when we have been unable to be together?"

Janeway shook her head. "No, I'm usually too tired to even think about it when I drop into bed." Heavens, where was this coming from? She thought about it, and the glimmering of an idea wafted across her mind. "Have you been wanting to masturbate, darling?"

Seven looked vaguely relieved that Janeway had guessed, rather than her having to admit it. "A week ago, when you were working the back shift in the central safe haven, I was home alone, yet was very amorous."

"Ah," Janeway said. "But, you didn't?"

"I did not know how," Seven said with some embarrassment. "I attempted to utilize the wonder wand as you showed me, but it did not feel the same as when you watched me and as a result, I found the experience ... inadequate."

"Oh dear," Janeway sighed. When would she learn to explain things right? And why did Seven have to be the one that always paid for her lack of foresight? "Annika, there are other ways to pleasure yourself. I'm sorry I didn't make that clear ... and I'm sorry I didn't show you how to ... take care of this when you need to." She hesitated, then stroked Seven's cheek tenderly. "Would you like me to teach you now?"

Seven tilted her head, her pale eyes alight as she considered it.

"No," she replied finally. A smile curved her full lips. "A solitary pursuit is not what interests me at this moment."

"That would be acceptable," Seven allowed as her hands gently stroked her partner, nuzzling the warm line of Janeway's neck. "For now, however, I just want to be with you."

There were so many things she wanted to do with Kathryn at the moment, but the sheer variety of possible pleasures stymied her and all she could do was caress and kiss Janeway with slow desire, luxuriating in the joy of being with her spouse, concentrating on this moment of existing with all she was. Kathryn seemed to sense what she was feeling, and her caresses were light and loving as well, almost as if she were familiarizing herself with Seven's body again rather than attempting to deliberately arouse her ... though Seven was certainly being aroused.

"Mmm, Annika," Janeway offered after several long, glorious moments had passed.

"Yes, Kathryn?" Seven whispered, nibbling at the captain's ear.

"I've been doing a little research myself," Janeway murmured. "Just for the sake of variety."

"Indeed?" Seven was intrigued.

Janeway shifted, nudging Seven onto her back, and rolling over on top of her, looking down into her eyes with a gaze of pure sapphire.

"Oh, yes," the captain said, the white flash of teeth appearing briefly. She captured Seven's full bottom lip between her own, sucking lightly at it before releasing her to smile once more. "I'm not sure it'll work, but I want to try it anyway."

"I am always willing to try new things, Kathryn."

"That's one of the things I adore about you, my darling," Janeway responded before kissing her again. She nibbled her way down the Borg's chest to her full breasts, tasting the tender flesh with loving intensity.

Seven inhaled deeply, and lolled on the sheets, deliberately relaxing as she allowed her spouse to pleasure her, knowing that Kathryn would get to what she was intending at her own pace. Any attempt to hurry her would trigger the captain's natural contrariness, and she would become even slower, teasing ... Seven did not wish to be teased today. She placed her left hand around the metal bar embedded in the headboard, and used her other to gently stroke Janeway's hair and face, trailing her fingers over the captain's temple and down her cheek. Janeway paused briefly to kiss each fingertip before returning her attentions to Seven's nipples, sending tingles of delight through the young woman. Seven felt her breathing deepen, her heart rate rising accordingly, and when Janeway trailed down over her belly, she flexed her knees, anticipating the touch of Kathryn's mouth on her most intimate regions.

But Janeway surprised her, drawing away to wrap her arm around Seven's leg, pulling it against her belly as she hooked her own leg over the Borg's other thigh. Bemused by the positioning Janeway was arranging them into, Seven opened her eyes and watched as Janeway attempted to fit them together, abruptly jolted by the sensation of her partner's wetness being pressed against her own.

"Kathryn," Seven breathed, astounded.

"Does that feel good?" Janeway asked, her voice husky and deep, her eyes lidded as she undulated against Seven.

"More than good," Seven said, finding it hard to breathe. "It is ... wonderful."

Janeway smiled sensually, her gaze capturing Seven's, watching intently as the delicate, maddening sensations rippled through them both. Seven stared back, captured by the intensity of that look, smoldering, desiring; making it clear exactly who Kathryn wanted with every fibre of her being.

"You know," Janeway murmured after a few moments, her voice low and unsteady, "I want to go faster, but I think that would be the wrong thing to do."

Seven considered it, even though she found it incredibly difficult to think clearly. "Yes, slow is better," she replied, swallowing against a mouth going dry from her attempts to get more air into her lungs. "Too fast risks losing this contact."

"We don't want to do that," Janeway agreed reverently, hugging Seven's leg tightly to her stomach in what was obviously an attempt to control her passion, tempering her motion, keeping it steady and erotically slow.

Seven felt dizzy, the heat of Kathryn sliding against her, sending tremors through her body, the Borg shivering as she felt the hard nodule of her partner rub over her own, the woman's wetness seeming to trickle inside her. The Borg was being opened up by this incredibly intimate touch, her internal muscles squeezing rhythmically as she tried to draw more of Kathryn's essence inside her, and she moaned audibly as the sensation steadily built within her. The moist, warm pressure against her own made her feel as if every nerve ending was being stimulated, and she moved her hips in perfect counterpoint to Janeway, their connection falling into a smooth, slow rhythm that was beyond delight. Then Janeway abruptly shuddered, almost as if her climax had caught her by surprise, a sound of pure ecstasy issuing from her throat, and she reached out, putting her hand over Seven's left breast, squeezing even as she clutched Seven's leg against her belly with her other arm. Seven could feel her partner's opening flutter against her own, the soft rush of additional moisture that covered her, filled her, and it was enough to trigger her own climax, her hips surging up to Janeway, seeking even more contact until finally their pleasure ebbed, and Kathryn toppled over, collapsing into Seven's waiting embrace.

They lay pressed together, kissing deeply and sweetly, the gentle aftershocks rippling through each of them at different times. Then Janeway made an abbreviated sound of pleasure and satisfaction, swallowing audibly as she drew her head back to look down at her partner.

"Interesting," she managed quietly.

Seven lifted a brow. "I believe that I rather enjoy the results of your research. Please continue it in the future."

Janeway laughed huskily and kissed her again. "I will."

They snuggled into the warm nest in the center of their bed, drawing up the blankets and sheets that had been tossed askew as they made love, pulling them around each other. Janeway huddled within the circle of Seven's arms, kissing the young woman's chin and lips softly, tenderly.

"Did Jennifer mind switching shifts with you, darling?" she asked finally, after basking lazily for long moments in the pleasant afterglow. "I know she hates any kind of change in her routine."

Seven hesitated, looking thoughtful. "On the contrary, she appeared grateful for the inconvinience. In truth, she has seemed somewhat ... unlike herself since her sister transferred out of astrometrics. Also, the marriage of Megan to Harry Kim was apparently displeasing to her. I believe she had romantic designs on the lieutenant herself."

"You make her sound predatory, Annika," Janeway noted with amusement.

Seven considered it. "There does seem to be a measure of that in romance. I was at lunch with B'Elanna and Laren yesterday, and they did appear to be defining their territorial boundaries for future romantic interaction."

"Ro and Torres?" Janeway said with some surprise. "I knew they were attempting to figure out where they stood with each other, but I believed it had to do with the fact that Ro was Starfleet all this time, rather than Maquis. It never occurred to me that they would become romantically involved."

"I believe that is their intent." Seven idly ran her fingertips over Janeway's collarbone, tracing the hard ridge as her eyes followed without really seeing it. "B'Elanna has stated on more than one occasion, that her intent is to take a female lover. Ro expresses a less eager opinion, yet at the same time, she does not seem entirely adverse to the idea." She paused, face pensive as she thought about it some more. "B'Elanna thinks that she is pursuing Laren, but I believe that is an incorrect assumption on her part."

Janeway was regarding her with amusement. "Yes?" she coaxed.

Seven focused on her partner's gaze and blushed faintly, a brief smile touching her lips as well. "Bajoran women are reputed to be very passionate and aggressive, almost as much as Klingon women ... I do not think B'Elanna is aware that Laren is only leading her to where she wants her to be. B'Elanna is used to pursuing males, not females. It is a subtle but definite distinction."

"I know," Janeway noted dryly. "I had to chase you until you let me catch you."

Seven raised an eyebrow. "I believe you allowed me to make all the aggressive moves until you were ready to be caught. Whether this relationship occurred or not has always resided with your decision."

Janeway chuckled and shifted, rolling onto her back as she ran her hand over her face. "Maybe you're right." She smiled again. "Though it hasn't always rested with me."

Seven quirked an eyebrow. "That is correct," she said with some surprise as she considered it further. "Just after you lost your memories, and you were 'wooing' me, the choice of whether to allow you to succeed or not was mine." She tilted her head. "Interesting."

Janeway reached over and patted the Borg lovingly on the belly. "Darling, don't analyze this too much. You'll tie yourself up in knots." She stretched energetically, and glanced over at Seven with a grin. "I don't suppose I could interest you in lunch?"

"Ah," Seven noted dryly. "Sleep, sex and food. Your day is complete."

Janeway laughed out loud, and rolled to her feet. "Come on," she said, reaching back to snag Seven's hand. "Let's shower and see what the rest of our off duty rotation brings."

Seven did not resist, allowing her partner to pull her out of bed. She followed the captain into the ensuite where Janeway activated the shower jets, producing a triple spray of needle fine water that they wallowed under with luxurious enjoyment. They played for a while, then made love again beneath the warm cascade, and finally managed to get themselves clean amid the caresses and soap suds and lather.

Seven retrieved her clothes from the bedroom, recycling them through the replicator before pulling them back on. Janeway followed her lead by finding a pair of colorful shorts, and a brief tank top in a compartment in the closet where the clothes had been stored for months. The last time the couple had worn the casual garments was during their honeymoon on the holodeck, in a simulation of a Caribbean island. The sight of her partner in the breif garments brought back good memories for Seven, and she smiled as she went out to the living area to prepare lunch. Inspired, she made a seafood salad with rolls, and a light sherbet to complete the meal.

Janeway checked her work console to see what was going on in her absence, spoke briefly with Chakotay, and then rushed to set the table as Seven carried over the meal. Their lunch was pleasant, the conversation inconsequential but stimulating, and Seven decided this was one of the better days they had experienced in a while. Sometimes, what was truly important got lost in the adventures and missions they had to deal with in this journey back to the Alpha Quadrant. Seven was determined to appreciate this brief period of 'no demands' upon them to its fullest.

After cleaning up, they retrieved some wine, and curled up together on the couch, Seven sitting in one corner as Janeway stretched out on the cushions, leaning against the Borg comfortably. Jake, their Irish Setter, curled up on the floor next to them, napping as they sipped their wine, and listened to the soft sound of the music Janeway had selected.

"You know, darling," the captain remarked at one point. "I'm really enjoying myself."

Seven brushed her lips over Janeway's hair. "I am, as well, Kathryn. We have had little opportunity for such moments lately."

Janeway leaned her head back on the Borg's shoulder, smiling faintly. "Being married has taught me a good lesson, love. The value of relaxing makes me a better captain, and allows me to be a better person as well. I used to believe that I had to be on the go all the time, that spare time meant I should be working out, or playing Velocity, or just doing something."

"We are doing something," Seven pointed out. "We are drinking wine and listening to music."

"Still, I never liked what I considered 'just sitting around' ... at least, not until I met you. You've allowed me to understand that taking time to enjoy existence is something to be cherished ... that life is sometimes better lived by recognizing the moment, rather than attempting to always fill it." She paused, chuckling a bit. "Am I making any sense?"

"You are making perfect sense," Seven assured her, hugging her tenderly. "I too, had a need to fill every moment with some activity, particularly after being severed from the Collective. It took me time to comprehend that taking those opportunities to be still, allows me to listen to myself, allows me to listen to 'Annika Hansen'. I need to hear that voice, and what it has to tell me." She considered it. "I believe Tuvok would describe this as meditation, but perhaps all he really means is that we need to take time to connect with ourselves on occasion."

"I will admit, being with you like this beats any meditation technique I've ever tried." Janeway reached up with her hand and placed it gently against Seven's cheek. "I love you, my darling."

Seven turned her head to kiss the warm palm. "You make my life complete, Kathryn."

Janeway smiled again, closing her eyes, and for the rest of the afternoon, they relaxed in their quarters, shutting out the rest of the universe for just a few hours more.

"What time do you think you'll be back?" Janeway asked curiously.

"Our class usually terminates at 2200 hours." Seven hesitated before adding, "The students tend to meet afterward in the messhall to discuss what we have learned." She regarded Janeway with dark eyes. "I will return immediately after class. I do not want us to be apart. In fact, if you wish, I will not go this evening."

Janeway smiled, and leaned back against the couch, reaching out a hand to beckon her partner to join her, which Seven did, stepping over Jake who had remained on his back, clearly hoping for more attention. The Borg settled next to the captain and looked at her inquiringly.

"I want you to go to class, darling," Janeway said, pulling her leg up under her as she turned to study her partner intently. "If you want to go to the messhall with your classmates later, then I think you should."

"I would rather be with you," Seven insisted, slipping her arm along the back of the couch, her padds resting on her lap as she angled her body toward her spouse. "I love you."

"I absolutely know that, darling," Janeway said, resting her hand on Seven's forearm, "But you should understand that while you don't have the chance to go to the real Starfleet Academy, or the Daystrom Institute, or any of the other varied institutions of higher learning in the Alpha Quadrant, these evening classes with Tuvok, the Doctor, and Chakotay, can provide you with something similiar. I want you to be able to get as much out of the experience as you can. That's part of why I was so pleased when you agreed to do this."

Seven tilted her head. "Explain."

Janeway squeezed her hand gently, feeling the fine muscle and bone of Seven's arm beneath her palm. "The Academy is more than just sitting in the classroom learning new things, Annika. It's an entire social experience, the opportunity to grow in ways that are unique to this situation. Getting together with your fellow students outside of the classroom is part of it as well. It teaches you how to interact with others who might not necessarily hold the same galactic view as you do."

"I have experienced that since I came on board Voyager," Seven pointed out, somewhat dryly.

Janeway smiled. "I know, but truthfully, darling, you don't interact with many people on a regular basis. The senior staff, yes. Naomi, of course, and Neelix a little bit, but I've noticed that there is a large area of the ship which you simply have no need to come in contact with in your everyday routine. The Philosophy and Ethics classes have changed that. I was surprised at how many people have started going to them, but pleased to see that most are from the gamma shift and lower deck stations. Getting to know them better can only benefit you."

Seven's face was placid, obviously considering this. "I admit, I have been surprised by a great deal of what goes on in these classes, even in the short period of time I have been attending." She paused and offered Janeway a glance from beneath lowered lashes. "Some of which has made me question certain things."

Janeway quirked an eyebrow. "I'm sure it has," she said diplomatically, trying not to smile. "That is, after all, what they're for."

Seven blinked. "It occurs to me that possibly, Starfleet is not the path for me," she admitted quietly, after a moment. She added hastily, "I am not saying that it is not, but ... there is much to learn. Far more than I anticipated."

Janeway reached out and touched Seven's cheek. "That is also what they are for. Annika, I was thrilled and honored that you wished to be in Starfleet, but I also know it's not an easy career choice. In fact, it's more than a career, it's a way of life. You've already seen that to a certain extent, just from being with me. That's why I wanted you to take these classes, so that you'd know exactly what you're getting into. I don't want you to join Starfleet simply because you feel it's a more efficient way for you to function. I want you to do it because it's the 'right' way for you to function. Does that make sense?"

Seven nodded. "It does. It would not, only a month ago, prior to my start of classes, but now I believe I partially understand what you are saying." She reached up and took Janeway's hand in her own, entwining her fingers in them. "There is a great deal that remains unknown to me."

"Welcome to the club," Janeway offered, with a crooked grin.

Seven's eyes unfocused a little as she deciphered that, but they quickly sharpened and the captain knew the Borg had either figured it out or decided to let it go for the moment.

"Sometimes I find that the discussions certain of my classmates and I have afterward are more enlightening than what occurs in the actual class," the young woman ventured slowly.

"I'm not surprised." Janeway leaned forward and kissed Seven gently. "That's why you should go to the messhall if you want, after class. I promise you, I won't mind."

Seven sighed. "But we have had so little time together lately. I miss being with you."

A wistful expression crossed Janeway's face. "I miss being with you, darling. We just have to remember that we're settling into a new reality, Annika. Not just us, but the entire ship, and the transition period we're undergoing makes things seem a bit uncertain. We'll find a routine again. It may take some time but, once we adapt to everything, your classes will become a part of our daily life. I want you to understand that just because they don't really include me, it doesn't mean that I resent or don't like you taking this opportunity. On the contrary, I truly want you to grant the same attention to this that you do everything else. I promise to let you know if I think we're neglecting each other. You have to promise the same."

"I will," Seven said gravely.

"If that happens, we'll figure out a way to adjust further. I'm glad that we're able to develop interests and pursuits outside our marriage, Annika. It's an important way to supplement our lives and make them better."

Seven nodded. "I believe you are correct." She paused. "Are you going to develop an interest beyond the ship and our marriage while I am at class?"

Janeway laughed. "I hadn't thought about it."

Seven raised an eyebrow, her ocular implant glinting grey in the subdued light. "What do you intend to do this evening while I am gone?"

"Ah," Janeway said, understanding now. "Jake and I are going for a long stroll around the ship. Then, I'm going to come back here and read a book I've been promising myself to start for months now."

Seven abruptly leaned forward and kissed Janeway, her full lips incredibly soft on the captain's. "I will come home directly after class, just for tonight. I want for you to be able to fall asleep in my arms."

Janeway felt warmth suffuse her entire body. "Thank you, love. I'll wait up for you. I want you know that today was wonderful. Thank you for switching duty shifts with Ensign Delaney."

"You are welcome," Seven said, her pale eyes alight with pleasure. Janeway felt the Borg pull her close and they kissed again, lingering over it.

"You're going to be late for class," Janeway warned when they finally parted. "Especially if you don't leave right this minute."

Seven released the captain reluctantly and uncoiled her lean, lanky form from the couch, gathering up her padds. "Good-bye, Kathryn."

"Enjoy yourself, darling," Janeway said, feeling an odd mix of pride and pleasure as she watched Seven leave. Such a wonderful person Annika was, she mused. Far better than a cantankerous old Starfleet captain like her probably deserved.

Then she prodded Jake playfully in the side with her toe. "What about you, boy? What is it Chakotay calls you? 'Walks-with-Disaster'? Want to go for a walk?"

The dog, who most likely only understood the mouth noise that corresponded to 'walk', eagerly leapt to his feet, his fringed tail swaying as he waited anxiously for his mistress to get her lazy butt off the couch.

Janeway laughed at him and rose from the sofa, taking a moment to find his leash though Jake was trained well enough ... Seven's meticulous doing ... that for the most part, she didn't really need it. Still, there were those two B'Rethna loose on the ship. The small creatures resembling a cross between a kitten and a weasel, drove Jake insane when he encountered them, and since the alien lifeforms were continually finding ways out of their respective quarters, the dog encountered them quite often. The escapes drove their owners, B'Elanna and Naomi, to distraction and at any given moment, the cute if annoying little pets could be found literally anywhere in the ship. Janeway could only thank god that the Doctor had managed to neuter both creatures before they bred. Or worse, once more provided the same conditions that created the virus resulting in ten unexpected additions being added to the crew.

As she and Jake left her cabin, the dog trotting properly at her heel, the captain mused over how the ship had changed in the last year. Pets, children ... it was turning into a small village, rather than a Starfleet vessel, and not for the first time, Janeway wondered uneasily what kind of shape Voyager would be in when they finally did make it back to the Federation.

On the other hand, Voyager maintained far more discipline and protocol with kids and pets than say, the Equinox had without them. The captain wasn't quite sure why Captain Ransom had deviated so badly from his Starfleet ideals, even with the ill luck he had encountered in the Delta Quadrant, though at times she thought that, there but for the grace of God, went she. Still, she understood that, as uncertain as she sometimes felt regarding the decisions she had made, she tried to do what was best for all concerned, not just for Voyager. It may have kept her ship from returning home sooner, but on the other hand, when they finally did return, she and her crew could carry their heads with pride, knowing they did their best to live up to the Starfleet ideals.

Jake sniffed avidly at all the corners as they passed through the corridors, and Janeway wondered with a sinking feeling if perhaps the B'Rethna had been 'marking' them. Jake had been trained to leave his spoor on the devices which served to remove it efficiently and quickly from the ship's environment. Seven had designed them, and provided similar devices for the other pets, but it didn't mean that Naomi and B'Elanna had trained their animals as well as the Borg had hers. Janeway made a note to check with the Doctor. It could become a health concern if they weren't careful.

The setter's ears abruptly went up, and with a happy bark, he took off before Janeway quite realized what was happening. Biting off a curse for allowing herself to become lax, she sprinted after him, hoping that the sight of the captain pelting haplessly after her pet would not be considered too undignified by any crewmembers who happened to see her. She finally skidded around a corner to find Jake had Lt. Ro Laren cornered, the Bajoran desperately attempting to keep B'Elanna's pet from shredding the front of her uniform as the B'Rethna tried to return the dog's overly friendly greeting.

"Jake, sit," Janeway shouted firmly. Since it was the same tone which had served to cause green ensigns fresh from the Academy to consider wetting their pants, it was more than sufficient to make the dog immediately drop to his haunches and look at his mistress with an injured expression.

"I'm sorry about that, Lieutenant," Janeway apologized, clipping the leash to Jake's collar. "He didn't jump up on you, did he?"

"No," Ro said, finally prying the B'Rethna's claws from her sweater and possibly, Janeway noted, a good part of the woman's flesh beneath. "I should have known better than to offer to look after this thing while B'Elanna is in class. I'll be damned if I know how it got out."

"They seem to be quite good at finding vents and tubes we forget exist," Janeway said, her hand resting on Jake's head. She looked at the Bajoran with interest, mindful of what Seven had told her earlier. "I didn't realize B'Elanna had acquired a new ... uh, babysitter. Did it escape her quarters?"

Ro shot a sharp look at her, but Janeway made sure to keep her face pleasantly bland, making it an innocuous comment only, nothing more.

"Lt. Torres dropped the creature by my quarters earlier in the evening."

Janeway wanted to pry further but for some reason, she sensed that Ro was far sharper than most and would not appreciate it in the slightest. So she attempted a different tack. "I understand you have helm experience, Lt. Ro. Has Lt. Paris contacted you about upgrading your rating?"

"Actually, he did, Captain," Ro said, holding the blue ball of fur firmly against her so that it would not go down into her tunic. She seemed to be having some difficulty. Janeway herself, could feel Jake wiggling anxiously by her side, literally vibrating against her leg. "Paris and I have the holodeck booked for tomorrow at 1500 hours in order to run the pilot simulations."

Janeway nodded. "Excellent." She offered a smile. "I think you belong on the bridge, Laren."

Ro looked at her, an indeterminate expression on her face. "Someday I may remind you that you said that, Captain."

Janeway blinked as the tall, slender Bajoran favored her with a final, significant look, and walked away.

"Curious," she offered.

B'Elanna looked askance at her. "What's curious?"

"I have noticed that you have been early for the last three classes. This is uncharacteristic of you. You are usually the last to arrive."

B'Elanna crossed her arms over her chest. "See, I try to turn over a new leaf, improve myself and what do I get for my trouble? Criticism."

Seven blinked. "It was not criticism. It was merely an observation." She paused. "Are you attempting to 'turn over a new leaf'?"

B'Elanna didn't respond right away, and Seven wondered if she perhaps had overstepped her boundaries. It was something she had become very sensitive to lately, particularly with the Klingon. But when the engineer did speak, it was very thoughtful, which was unusual for the normally acerbic young woman.

"I guess I don't like who I've been in the past very much, Seven. I want to be better."

Seven considered that, a little surprised. The hiss of the door, however, heralded the arrival of others, the classroom filling up, and she could not respond as she wished.

"An attempt to improve is to be admired," she said instead, in a low voice.

B'Elanna shot her an amused glance. "Thanks."

Commander Chakotay strolled in behind the rest of the students, and took his place at the desk situated at the front of the room. Obviously he was to be their instructor this night. They were never sure who that would be at any given time, but that was part of the unexpected nature of the course, getting used to different commanding officers, and their different approaches to the subject. Unlike the Doctor and Tuvok, Chakotay seemed to have a flair for teaching, and the class tended to be a great deal livelier and more entertaining when he was in charge. Seven thought that perhaps the commander had missed his calling, and that here in a classroom was where he was meant to be. She wondered if it would be something he would pursue once they returned to the Alpha Quadrant.

He perched on the edge of his desk and regarded the class, waiting until they had settled down. They quickly became quiet, and were now awaiting his opening statement with great anticipation. They were not disappointed.

"Starfleet is an archaic organization and should be abolished," he stated with authority.

There was a delicious pause as the class examined this jewel, examining it from all sides.

"Agreed," Ensign Tabor Jur said, characteristically going first.

He was the most outspoken in the class, and anti-Federation in a great many ways. Part of it was because he was from Bajor and had been witness to the Cardassian occupation, but some of it, Seven was sure, had to do with the fact that, when B'Elanna had been infected by an alien lifeform, a hologram based on a Cardassian doctor who had performed horrific experiments on thousands of Bajorans, including, Tabor's family, had been activated. Tabor had objected strenuously to using medical information derived from inhumane research, and had gone so far as to resign his Voyager commission over it, though Chakotay had refused to accept it. The incident had served to reawaken Tabor's political views, and he had developed quite strong ones about Voyager, and her captain, in particular. Still, he was attending this course which meant that he was attempting to learn more about what he disagreed with. Seven admired that.

"Starfleet has become bloated, nothing more than a bureaucracy. It's outlived its usefulness as an organization to promote the ideals it gives voice to, but does not follow."

"Starfleet is far from that," Neelix interjected. The Talaxian, ironically, had the best historical knowledge of the Federation, Starfleet and Earth in the class, thanks to extensive studies he had undertaken completely on his own. Seven noticed that this course had seemed to encourage the Delta Quadrant native, the stocky alien no longer so apologetic when presenting his views. "They explore, discover scientific phenomena. They seek out new life, exchange ideas peacefully. They settle disputes and offer a better alternative than war to many."

"Maybe at one time they did," Tabor argued, "but now all they do is patrol their territory and fight Cardassians. When was their last really big scientific discovery?"

"The Caretaker's array," some wag on the other side of the room noted. "And we blew it up."

"You know, that's right," Will Davis noted, the hulking security officer lounging in his chair easily. He and Tabor had always had a longstanding relationship, harking back, Seven assumed, to their time together in the Maquis. "Starfleet has become less like a scientific organization, and more like a military one. Far more concerned with administering and policing the territory the Federation already has. I mean, we all ended up here because Voyager was essentially conducting a mission that was more a function of law enforcement than any form of scientific or diplomatic intent."

"But are we talking about Starfleet or the Federation itself, now?" B'Elanna asked, surprising Seven, who glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. B'Elanna tended to remain quiet in these classes or at least, content herself with snide remarks to the Borg about how silly she thought it all was. The Borg guessed this new enthusiasm was part of the engineer's attempt to change.

"I think that you're ignoring the fact that Starfleet has always been made up of three factions," the Klingon continued in a thoughtful tone. "Military, Diplomatic and Scientific. Depending on what is most important to the Federation at any given time, that's the purpose of Starfleet."

Chakotay crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against his desk. "That's an interesting point, B'Elanna. Can you elaborate?"

B'Elanna looked a little self-conscious but nodded, turning her chair so that it faced more of the classroom.

"If you go back to the very beginning, to when the Federation was first pushing out its boundaries and expanding its territory, Starfleet captains like Robert April, were explorers, adventurers, dedicated to discovering what lay beyond the next star. The next generation also reflected this scientific aspect ... this need to expand and explore. To seek out new life and new civilizations. Christopher Pike and later, James T. Kirk, were captains in this mode. They were actually expected to take their ships out for five year missions, far from Federation influence and communication. Of course, by this time, the Federation had run into the Klingons and the Romulans so Starfleet also had to develop a strong militaristic aspect to handle those conflicts. Diplomacy, what little there was with those captains, was of the 'cowboy' variety."

"You're right about communications being far more uncertain back then," Josie Harper remarked in a somewhat dreamy voice, as if she wished to somehow be a part of that era. "Starfleet officers were more autonomous, often making decisions that could affect the entire Federation entirely on their own. They stood up for themselves, and didn't let anyone push them around."

"But after Praxis exploded, the Klingons gradually became allies rather than enemies and it changed what Starfleet represented," Ensign Lisa White interjected.

The young crewmember was not yet showing her pregnancy, but Seven allowed that she was certainly 'glowing' in some indefinable way. The Borg wondered if, one day in the future, if everything worked out as planned, that Janeway would also appear like that. Most likely, Seven told herself, the command mask was just so strong, it would hide any sort of 'glowing' at all.

"The Federation began establishing relations with the Klingons, and captains like Rachel Garrett commanded the elite ships of Starfleet," B'Elanna added as Seven realized the engineer had been studying a bit of history. "They were adventurous, yes, but they were more apt to seek a diplomatic solution long before they attempted to resort to phasers, though they could if they had to. Then the Romulans suddenly withdrew behind the neutral zone, not coming out for another eighty years, and the Federation entered an era of peace."

Neelix's golden eyes were gleaming. He always became excited when he was learning something new. "Diplomacy has been the most important aspect of Starfleet for the past fifty years. Moderating disputes, developing treaties. Securing all the territory it had acquired during its first big push had made exploration less vital."

"Ten years ago, captains like Jean-Luc Picard of the Enterprise and Robert DeSoto of the Hood were more apt to be sent on missions of diplomacy than to discover a new spatial anomaly," Lt. Ayala agreed. Once Maquis, he had become a vital part of Voyager's bridge staff, and he discovered he rather liked it. Having no Starfleet experience prior to being thrust in the Delta Quadrant with the rest, he was the one who most wanted to pass this course and gain an honest commission. "Perhaps that's why the situation with the Cardassians turned out to be such a mess ... Starfleet kept trying to deal with it on a diplomatic level rather than take care of them once and for all in a strong show of military force."

"That's changed now," B'Elanna noted. "When Chakotay, Seven and myself were back in the Alpha Quadrant that brief time, the whole Federation was on a war footing. There's no question, the Military aspect of Starfleet is predominant now."

"Assuming there still is a Starfleet," Tabor noted sardonically.

They all stared at him and he held out his hands. "Hey, there's no guarantee the Alpha Quadrant won that war. For all we know, it could still be going on or worse, it's been lost and this 'Dominion' is in charge, which means, so are the Cardassians. Maybe we're busting our butts to get back to a home that doesn't exist anymore."

For a moment, there was an uncomfortable silence as they contemplated that disturbing thought.

"In any event," Chakotay said finally. "That did not answer the question. Should Starfleet be disbanded?"

"But that is what we are discussing," Seven noted, speaking for the first time. "Before one can decide if something is no longer useful, one has to determine where it fits in the collect---the society. I have come to believe that Starfleet is a vital part of the Federation, and in fact, reflects what that society is, just as Lt. Torres mentioned. It serves the purposes of the Federation. If it was to be removed, what could replace it?"

"That's a good point," Harper said. "Starfleet cannot become archaic. It's too fluid, changing with the needs of the Federation. It isn't really a separate entity, it merely represents Federation society. Any problem is not with Starfleet, but with the Federation itself, and the policies it makes. Starfleet can only protect and serve those policies."

"But what does Voyager serve?" Tabor asked. "Half the time, I don't know what we're doing; exploring the Delta Quadrant or trying to get home."

"I thought we were doing both?" Neelix offered.

"You know, we're a lot like those early ships," Ayala pointed out. "We're completely on our own, expanding our boundaries, and having more than our share of incidents requiring 'cowboy' diplomacy."

"Does that make Janeway a female James T. Kirk?" the wag piped up again. Seven finally identified him as Chell, the Bolian from security, and her eyes narrowed.

"No, that means Kirk was a less polished, male Kathryn Janeway," B'Elanna shot back, causing the class to laugh. Even Chakotay smiled a bit. Seven was not amused but she wasn't sure why. It did not sound insulting at all, but from what she had read of James Kirk, it was ... disturbing in some undefined fashion.

"Now that children are on the way, we're going to become more insular, more interested in protecting our society," Harper noted thoughtfully, once the laughter had faded out.

"More diplomatic in our approach? More apt to avoid trouble whenever possible?" Ayala offered, his dark eyebrow raised. He looked pensive. "You could be right, but it also might mean that we'll respond quicker with deadly force when threatened."

They continued to discuss it, delving into how utilizing Starfleet protocols had actually been beneficial to their journey in the Delta Quadrant, having the example of the Equinox to compare their own situation with. Tabor's insistence that they could have made the journey as a Maquis vessel was shot down, though he did make many good points where a Maquis approach might have been more advantageous in certain circumstances.

Seven had much to think about as she resisted her classmates request that she join them in the messhall, and made her way back to her quarters. Did following the Starfleet way make returning to the Alpha Quadrant easier or was it in fact, slowing them down?  If that was so, what did that say about the captain ... who was also her wife?

Janeway looked up as Seven entered the room empty-handed, no doubt having deposited her padds on the workstation in the living area.

"Hello, darling. How was class?"

"Thought provoking," Seven replied in a very distracted tone as she crossed into the ensuite.

Janeway raised an eyebrow, and waited as Seven performed her ablutions in the bathroom before finally returning to the bedroom, now wearing nothing but a preoccupied look. The mattress dipped as the Borg crawled into bed beside her, and Janeway put aside the unread book, sliding down beneath the sheets beside her partner.

"Tired?" she asked softly, rolling over to face the young woman.

Seven nodded. "A bit." Rather than explain the reason for her distant manner, however, she reached over and kissed Janeway gently. "Good night, Kathryn."

"Good night, love," Janeway responded, snuggling into the embrace as they settled down for the evening. She was surprised, but decided that if Seven wanted to let it be, she would not object. She knew the Borg would tell her in her own time. "Computer, alter lights to night standard."

The illumination lowered until there was only the starlight, and the glow from the running light lining the windowsill above the bed. Janeway lay quietly, waiting for sleep to arrive, vaguely startled when Seven rolled away from her a few moments later to lie on her back. Then shortly after, she shifted to her side, facing away from the captain. A little later, onto her belly, sighing softly.

Janeway frowned into the dark. This was extremely unusual for her partner. Generally, it was the captain who was the restless sleeper, wandering all over the bed throughout the night whereas Seven tended to pick a spot and stay with it until morning ... allowing, of course, for the elbows, knees and head butts Janeway administered in her energetic slumbering. This evening, it was the Borg who was fretful, unable to find a good position to settle in. Finally, as Seven stretched out a third time on her back, Janeway reached over and captured the young woman in her arms, holding her tightly.

"Talk to me, darling," she murmured against Seven's temple, kissing it tenderly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong, Kathryn," Seven responded, her voice puzzled. "I simply find it difficult to ... organize my thoughts in preparation of sleep."

"Ah, one of those nights," Janeway said knowingly. She hugged Seven gently. "What can I do? Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Seven said, reaching up to put her hand over Janeway's forearm which was pressed against her chest. She inhaled slowly. "There is nothing really to talk about at the moment in a coherent matter. I am still 'working it out', as B'Elanna would say."

"Do you want to make love?" Janeway offered, moving her arm slightly over Seven's breasts, chafing the nipples lazily. "Just to help you think?"

"No," Seven said in a gentler tone, stilling the motion with a brief smile. "That usually makes me stop thinking entirely."

"Do you want to get up?" Janeway suggested. "Go out? We can go to the holodeck, go for a stroll on the beach."

Seven considered it. "No." She shifted so that she was once again facing Janeway, enfolding her in her arms. "How do you sleep? I know that you often must have many things weighing on your mind when you go to bed, for no other reason than because of your role on the ship."

Janeway smiled. "It's not always easy. Sometimes I have to use relaxation techniques, exercises that clear the mind." She ran her fingertips over the Borg's forehead, smoothing over the lines she felt there. "Of course, since I met you, I sleep a lot better at night."

Seven's eyebrow began a slow ascent. "If that is the case, how did you ever manage to remain in the bed before we began sleeping together?"

A husky laugh issued from Janeway. "I never thought about it." She hugged Seven fondly, and drew the Borg's head down onto her shoulder so that they were cuddled together. "Darling, just try to imagine a peaceful time in your life," she offered quietly. "Try thinking of this afternoon for example, of us sitting on the couch, listening to music and sipping wine." Her voice gentled, became even softer, and her nails began to slip over the Borg's long, smooth back, scratching it lightly. "Or the stream on Safe Haven where we went fishing, leaning back against the tree, listening to the sound of the birds and the insects, the water flowing by..."

Before long, Seven grew heavy in her arms, sleep drawing her down as she complied with Janeway's suggestion. Smiling faintly, Janeway closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift off as well. She woke some undetermined time later by the sound of Seven singing softly in her ear, something to the effect that if love lasts forever...

"Mmm, Seven?" Janeway mumbled.

"I am sorry Kathryn, but you said you missed waking in my arms. It will soon be time for me to leave."

"So you decided to wake me up by singing in my ear?" Janeway yawned, rolling over to wrap her arms around her partner.

"Yes," Seven responded, returning the hug. "Was it acceptable?"

"Quite," Janeway muttered, burying her face into the warm neck of her spouse. "But I don't want you to go," she added wistfully.

Seven hesitated. "I must, Kathryn. I am scheduled to configure the power relays in the daycare area before I report to astrometrics."

"I hate this," Kathryn muttered drowsily. "I hate the fact that we all have to drive ourselves into the ground because we're all alone out here with no support. I hate the fact that these children will be born in space, not knowing Earth or the Federation. I hate that our time together now is being measured in moments between days of not being together."

"It will only be for a few more months," Seven noted. "As you have pointed out to me repeatedly."

Janeway was silent. "I know, darling," she sighed. "I'm just tired, I guess."

"I should not have awakened you," the young woman said regretfully.

Janeway tightened her embrace. "I'm glad you did. Now hold me and kiss me so that I can get through my day."

Seven did so, delivering one of her toe-curling, ear-ringing, breathtaking kisses that certainly did not make Janeway want to let her go. Seven finally had to pry the captain off her so that she could roll out of bed.

"Damn it," Janeway mumbled, punching her pillow into submission as she curled up in the middle of the bed. "Why can't I be the sort of captain who can take advantage of my rank and excuse my spouse from duty?"

"Because then you would not be the kind of captain you are," Seven noted logically as she padded naked into the ensuite. "Or the sort of person I fell in love with."

Janeway made a rueful face of agreement and reached over, wrapping her arms around Seven's pillow, which was a poor substitute for her beautiful spouse, but the best she was going to get for the time being. "You're biased," she mumbled, burying her face into the soft cushion where the scent of her partner lingered.

"Yes, I am." Seven's voice floated in from the bathroom just before the whine of the sonic shower began.

Janeway set her teeth and tried to ignore the hum, knowing that it wouldn't last long ... that in fact, that was why Seven was utilizing it, because it was far faster than the hydro setting. A few moments passed, then the Borg came out of the ensuite, wearing her plum biometric suit. Janeway, however, did not see her. She had already resumed her slumber, having three more hours before she was required to report to the bridge.

When the computer woke the captain a second time, Janeway felt like she had spent the night wrestling with tigers rather than having acquired a good night's sleep. She groaned and rolled out of bed, feeling a great deal more tired than if she had simply rose the same time as Seven. Next time, she promised herself as she stumbled into the bathroom, activating the shower and stepping under the spray. She finished quickly and retrieved her uniform off the sink counter, feeling a trifle more command-like as she went out into the living area. She was charmed to see several dishes covered with stasis lids sitting on the counter along with a tall, silver thermos. She gratefully perched on the stool and consumed her breakfast, wondering if Seven was taking as good of care of herself as she was of her spouse. Janeway made a mental note to find out, not wanting to discover too late that the Borg was neglecting her own well-being.

The bridge was filled with unfamiliar faces when she stepped out of the turbolift, backup personnel sent to cover the various stations while most of the alpha shift were in other parts of the ship, supervising the various aspects of Operation Newborn. Lt. Ro was at tactical and Janeway nodded briefly at the woman before strolling down to the lower level, meeting Susan Nicoletti who held the conn.

"Captain," the dark-haired woman said, standing up and relinquishing the command post. "All systems normal. We remain on course for the Alpha Quadrant."

"I relieve you, Lieutenant," Janeway said with a formality she didn't require with Chakotay or Tuvok and sank down into the command chair.

Her shift over, Nicoletti made a beeline for the turbolift, no doubt anxious to grab a bite to eat and catch some shuteye before starting all over again for the beta shift. Janeway took a moment to survey her bridge crew, noting that Nicoletti was not the only one who seemed weary. Ensign White sat in for Paris at the helm while Ensign Mulchaey covered operations. Janeway was acutely aware that both young people looked a trifle pale. It made Janeway feel uncertain in some indefinable way, a purely instinctual unease, and she forced herself to relax, attempting to get a sense of the entity that was Voyager. She flipped around the monitor that sat between her chair and the first officer post, scanning the duty roster and all the tasks the alpha rotation were attempting to carry out this shift. She frowned when she noted that there had been two minor setbacks in the sickbay expansion, small accidents that resulted in no injuries, but had slowed progress in that aspect of the project considerably.

Perhaps it wasn't just her desire to have more time with Seven, the thought came suddenly. Perhaps a real problem involving the entire ship was developing here. Janeway sent a memo out to Chakotay, requesting him to visit her in the ready room when he had time away from his overseeing of the renovation on deck two. In the meantime, she went over the remaining list of reports regarding the operation, and was truly dismayed at how they had piled up just by her taking the single off duty rotation.

"Lt. Ro," she said, standing up and retrieving the silver thermos she had brought with her when she arrived. "You have the bridge. I'll be in my ready room."

Ro appeared startled, but after only a slight hesitation, nodded and keyed in a request for replacement personnel before circling the console to descend to the lower level. Janeway affected not to notice the look, and calmly went to her ready room. After all, the woman was Starfleet, the most senior officer of the crew currently on the bridge. Who else would the captain leave it to? Still, Janeway recognized the fact that Ro had not expected to be trusted with something this responsible so quickly. The captain just believed that the sooner she could discover if Ro was really ready to resume her position as a Starfleet officer, the better it would be for all concerned.

Janeway entered the haven of her office, and found her lucky cup sitting on her desk, the white china turned down just as she had left it two days earlier. She flipped it over and filled it with hot coffee from the thermos, sipping it as she took a seat, lingering over the deep roast flavor. It didn't matter how long Seven had been providing her with the blend, the memory of four years with only horrid coffee had seared itself into Janeway's mind with scarring force, and she never failed to take a few seconds to appreciate the smooth, rich aroma and taste. Or send a silent thought of gratitude to her spouse, wherever she happened to be at the moment.

Accessing her console, she set to work, examining the various progress reports of Operation Newborn, determined to at least, make a dent in them before her first officer arrived. Chakotay found a spare moment early in his shift because she had barely finished going over the first department before the chime at her door sounded softly.

"Come," she invited, taking another sip from her cup, looking up expectantly.

"Captain?" Chakotay asked, dropping into the armchair opposite her which had been provided for that purpose, though it was uncharacteristic of him to do so without a nod of invitation from her. It was almost as if he were too tired to stand for very long. "You wished to see me?"

Janeway studied him closely, noting the lines around his eyes and his mouth, the dullness in the dark gaze. It solidified her belief that something needed to be done.

"I want you to set up a week long schedule of full ship shore leave. I'm going to divert Voyager to the nearest suitable M-class planet and arrange to set down."

He was astonished. "Captain?"

She pushed over a padd, clicking her nail on the accident report. "This is only going to get worse if we don't. We both know it, old friend."

He stared at it, then seemed to slump, rubbing the tattoo which arched over his left eye with the back of his thumb, seeming to sigh with relief. "You're right. We've been driving pretty hard."

"What will be most affected by a week's delay?"

"The central safe haven," he said promptly. "The rest of the projects ... sickbay, deck two, the cargo bay transformation ... all have a month or two leeway, but the area to keep the children safe in the event of a fatal hull breach is the most extensive renovation. The plan has it being completed a month after the scheduled arrival of the children, as a matter of fact."

Janeway nodded. "Well then, it's just going to be two months after the fact," she said with calm resolve. "Because I plan to have two more leaves between now, and the completion of this operation. I'd rather have downtime planned than have it come up unexpectedly because of an accident." She hesitated, then added dryly, "Or a mutiny."

He nodded as a white flash of teeth appeared, and Janeway realized it had been a while since she had seen him smile. It made her realize that perhaps she was just in time with this idea. "I know the crew will appreciate it."

"Well, it's a lesson that Seven has taught me," Janeway admitted as she leaned back in her chair. "Of course, if we had been thinking clearly from the beginning, we could have had this whole operation prepared over the course of years, rather than trying to get it all done in a matter of months. I just didn't think we'd be lost this long. Not deep down. I honestly believed we would have returned to the Alpha Quadrant long before we ever needed to become a generational ship."

"I suspect all of us did, Kathryn," he said gently, quietly.

They looked at each other, perhaps in silent acknowledgment of the reality facing them, that perhaps they would not see the Federation again ... but their children might. Janeway straightened.

"Take care of the roster, Chakotay. I'll be down in astrometrics, trying to find a suitable planet for my stressed crew to take some much needed time off."

"It's high tide, Seven," Harry Kim noted, coming up beside her. "So we know that, even during a storm, the water won't get as high as the cliffs, and being on the lee side of the island, the forest should protect the clearing."

"I concur." There were of course, some native dangers such as animals and the occasional poisonous plant, but certainly no more than an outing in a wilderness area of any park on Earth would offer. Starfleet officers were trained to look after themselves, and all the necessary information would be transmitted to each personal work padd prior to leave so that people would know what to look out for.

He grinned crookedly at her. "You want to do the honors, or should I?"

"You are in command of the away team," she reminded him dryly.

He grinned at her again, and touched his command badge. "Voyager, the site is secure. You are clear to land."

"Understood, away team," came the crackle of the return communication.

As one, the away team took up a vantage point next to the edge of the cliff, looking up expectantly. Ensign Ashmore, clearly with the best eyes, pointed out the small speck in the sky above them first.

"There!"

For a portion of the away team, this was a totally new experience, the opportunity to observe the silvery bulk of their starship gracefully descending through the planet's atmosphere, a trail of red streaming out behind it as overheated air molecules screamed over the hull. For the rest, it remained an incredible experience as the sound buffeted them, the roar of atmospheric thrusters creating its own form of wind. Majestically, Voyager slowed and hovered over the large meadow, the sleek starship easing down onto the landing struts that had been lowered from beneath the hull, settling onto the impossibly tiny supports like a creature sinking to its haunches, ready to leap back into the air in an instant as if resentful of this planetbound necessity. Seven did not think she would forget the sight any time soon and she wondered if Kathryn had ever had the opportunity to view her ship descend for a landing, making a mental note to ask her about it later.

She glanced over at Harry and found him smiling broadly. "Lieutenant?"

He shook his head. "Just happy, I guess, Seven. A whole week of shore leave," he said, spreading his arms wide. "On an uninhabited planet no less. Do you know how lucky we are?"

"It was a fortunate happenstance that this planet was nearby. Otherwise, we would have been forced to spend our leave on Voyager." She paused. "Somehow, I do not think that would have been as effective."

He inhaled deeply, his uniform tunic straining over his chest. "Just smell that air, Seven. You can't get this on a holodeck, no matter how good the program. Sometimes you just need to have real dirt beneath your feet, and blue sky over your head."

She was not entirely sure of that necessity, but she did allow that being out here on the planet's surface was different than being in a simulation on the ship. She looked back at Voyager in time to see ramp being lowered from the bottom of the vessel's hull, indicating that all stations had been secured, and the first wave of shore leave personnel was being released.

"Lt. Kim, if you would like, I will hand in the mission report so that you may remain out here. That way you will be able to start your leave immediately."

He looked at her, his dark eyes softening. "Thank you, Seven," he said with sincere gratitude, and handed her his tricorder. "I really appreciate that." His face lit up even more as he saw Megan, his wife, heading toward them.

Seven shut off her own tricorder and began to stride toward the vessel, the long grass of the meadow swirling around her legs. Her nostrils were filled with the scent of the wildflowers scattered throughout the huge clearing, and her passage disturbed insects, similar to Terran butterflies, that flitted away on multi-hued wings of bright blue, red, orange and yellow.

As she walked up the ramp and into the ship, she was struck by the stuffiness of the atmosphere, and she wondered if somehow the air filtration system was failing. Then she decided it was simply the contrast of the somewhat sterile environment of Voyager compared to the vitality of the planet's atmosphere. The ship itself was oddly quiet, the engines shut down while other systems were taken offline, not needed while the vessel was planetside. The voices of the crew echoed unnaturally in the corridors and rooms.

After she completed her report, Seven took it to Janeway. She found the captain in her ready room, looking out the large windows that revealed blue sky and sunshine streaming in to brighten an area normally set at a much dimmer illumination. It looked quite different, Seven decided, almost drab in the stark glare rather than with the refined elegance it normally displayed.  She tilted her head, regarding the pensive form of her partner curiously.

"This is quite a view the away team provided for us," Janeway said quietly.

The ship had landed so that the bow was angled toward the ocean. Janeway was looking beyond the worn hull of the teardrop shaped saucer section, down to the emerald expanse of a clearing that broke off abruptly to plunge down to the azure depths of the planet's ocean.

"As Mr. Kim would say," Seven offered, "'we aim to please'."

Janeway laughed briefly, and shot her spouse a mischievous look as she accepted the padd Seven handed her. She perused it briefly, then lay it down on the coffee table, resuming her observation. "Look at them," she said, her voice heavy with humor. "They're like children let go from school for summer vacation."

In the clearing, amongst the small village of habitats being set up for the science teams, and those who just preferred to spend some time outside on the planet's surface, a pick up game of some form had developed, the tiny figures of the crew racing about the clearing, chasing someone who appeared to be carrying a brightly colored ball. Seven hoped they did not run too close to the edge of the cliff. It would be unfortunate if someone fell over the side, though the white, limestone cliffs only dropped about two stories. Still, that was high enough to cause a fatality if one landed incorrectly.

"It has been an intense few months for them," Seven allowed.

"For you too, don't forget," Janeway said dryly. "The alpha shift is required to take the entire week off. That includes my astrometrics officer."

Seven considered that. "And you?"

A muscle twitched in Janeway's cheek. "I'm going to remain available for the volunteer skeleton crew, but I'm not taking on any further duties. So, yes, I'm on leave as of 1600 hours as well."

Seven felt a smile curve her lips, and she moved a bit closer though she didn't touch the captain ... not yet.

"Do you have any tasks to complete at the moment?" she asked innocently.

Janeway shook her head. "I finished up the last of the reports this morning." She appeared unaware of her partner's stealthy approach. "Now, I'm just making sure that the leave transition goes smoothly before my shift ends."

Seven smiled and took a final step so that she was immediately behind Janeway, putting her hands lightly on the captain's shoulders.

"Do you remember," she offered softly, putting her lips right next to Janeway's ear, "when we were stranded on that planet and we made love in the meadow? The sun was shining down on us, very much like this."

A small chuckle rippled the captain. "I do, but I doubt very much we'll be able to recreate it here. This is a small island, and for the next week, a hundred and thirty people are going to be wandering all over it. There's absolutely no guarantee of the same sort of privacy we had on that planet. We can't afford anything less."

"Unfortunate." Seven noted that Janeway's auburn hair was swept up in a bun that left the back of her neck available to be touched. Seven accepted the invitation, brushing her mouth lightly over the tender skin.

Janeway caught her breath, but did not pull away.

"Seven," she said warningly.

"Yes, Kathryn," Seven responded, her lips tracing the hairline, then down the ridge of spine.

Janeway swallowed hard. "This is my ready room, Seven."

Seven moved closer and very gently, kissed the exquisitely sensitive spot just behind her partner's ear.

"I am aware of that," she murmured quietly. She put her hands on the woman's waist, and nibbled her way down the side of Kathryn's throat, amused as the captain tilted her head, affording her more access even as she continued to protest.

"I am still on duty until 1600 hours," Janeway reminded her in a somewhat less than completely firm voice. "Technically, so are you even though I made it clear I wasn't going to hold anyone past the time it took to finish up any tasks."

"This is a task I must finish," Seven noted reasonably.

"No, it is not a task you must ... don't do that, Seven." Janeway captured Seven's wrist as her mesh-covered hand strayed up to the captain's breasts. Immediately, the Borg's free hand headed in the other direction and Janeway was forced to capture that one as well. "This is entirely inappropriate ... Seven, don't ... I can't condone ... Annika, stop ... what was I saying?"

"I believe you said 'don't stop'," Seven whispered in the delicate, shell-like ear.

"I think you're editing for content," Janeway accused her.

Seven smiled and bit gently at her partner's earlobe. "Do you really want me to stop, Kathryn?"

"No." Janeway groaned with convincing dismay. "But you have to."

Realizing she had gone as far as she could with this particular tactic, Seven allowed Janeway to guide the Borg's arms around her waist and keep them there.

"I believe that making love in your ready room would offer us a certain amount of 'variety'," Seven offered, not giving up as she tried it from a different angle. She felt the cheek against hers tense, and she knew that the captain was smiling.

"I'm sure it would," Janeway allowed dryly. "But it's not going to happen on my watch."

"Have you wondered what it would be like, Kathryn?" Seven persisted softly. "Making love in here, perhaps on your desk?"

"Seven, I'm not sure I want you to continue with this."

"I would lift you onto the desk, kissing you deeply," Seven forged on, undaunted by her partner's objection, her voice a sweet melody. It was like singing, the Borg thought, constructing words to flow together in a pattern designed to evoke feelings in her audience ... in this case, arousal in her spouse. "I would slowly remove your tunic as well as your sweater, so that I could access your breasts."

"I'd still have my bra on," Janeway responded logically. Then paused. "What am I saying?"

"In this fantasy, you would not have worn undergarments, knowing that I would be by at one point during your shift. You are always as prepared as possible, Kathryn.  It is your nature."

"Oh," Janeway said faintly, the first real chinks finally beginning to appear in her armor. "Is that how this works?"

"You would have been thinking of nothing else until my arrival," Seven said in a provocative purr. "So that when I finally kiss each one of your nipples, surrounding them with my lips, running my tongue around them, they would already be incredible hard and aching. Your breasts are so beautiful to me, Kathryn, so soft yet so firm at the same time. I love how they feel against my lips, how they taste under my tongue."

She heard Janeway swallow audibly, gulping almost. "Annika, I'm not sure why you decided to do this, but I think you should stop now."

Seven, who had discovered the idea from the romantic guides she had been perusing lately, did not agree, particularly when she felt Janeway press back against her, pressing her buttocks against Seven's groin unconsciously.

"I would put my face between your breasts, so that I could feel surrounded by your warmth," Seven continued, kissing the ear so conveniently close to her lips, flicking the lobe briefly with her tongue. "I reach down to remove your trousers and boots until finally, you would be reclining on the desk, completely naked before me."

She could hear Janeway's respiration increase, and the protests seemed to have died away for the moment.

"I would take some time to look at you, my eyes assessing every millimeter of your body before I would kiss you." Seven pitched her voice to the same level she did when they were alone in bed together, low, lyrical, infinitely desirous. "As I did, I would be able to smell you, your scent, the fragrance you offer when you are aroused. I would breathe it in deeply, Kathryn. You smell so very good, so very ready and I would draw back, putting my hands on your knees to spread your legs apart so that you are fully revealed to me. I can see how much fluid you have produced, how you glisten in the light."

"Oh god," Janeway uttered, and the pink tip of her tongue appeared, moistening her lips.

The detached part of Seven's analytical mind noted that her partner gave every indication of being fully aroused, just from the sound of the young woman's voice, and what she was saying. Amazed by the power mere words were having, Seven decided that what she had read in her research about providing sexual stimulation by simply presenting a verbal recitation was accurate after all, despite her initial skepticism. Perhaps there was a lesson of sorts to be learned here.

"I would sit down in your chair and lean forward, kissing the smooth skin along the inside of your thigh until I reached the region where you are so very wet," Seven told Janeway huskily. "I would lick you so very, very gently, running my tongue all over your most intimate places. I would taste you, consume you, drinking your essence eagerly. Have I ever told you how good you taste, Kathryn? So powerful, yet so delicate at the same time. Your flavor fills a need in me that no mere nutrition could ever manage to accomplish."

Janeway made a sound then, halfway between a groan and a cry. The next thing Seven knew, Janeway had grabbed a fistful of the front of the Borg's biometric suit, and was hauling the young woman unceremoniously into the small bathroom set off from the ready room. Containing only a sink and a waste disposal unit, the dimensions of the room were small indeed, hardly constructed with the idea of two people occupying it at the same time, particularly when one was six feet tall, and both were intent on utilizing it for something other than for what it was originally designed. Seven's attempt to stimulate the captain had obviously succeeded beyond her wildest expectation, and it occurred to the young woman around the same time her elbow cracked against the wall and her hip impacted solidly with the sink counter, that before she had aroused her partner to a fever pitch, she should have designed a plan of action with which to cool her off.

Janeway was kissing her hard as she clawed frantically at the back of Seven's neck, releasing the fastening of her biometric suit. At the same time, Seven tugged at the captain's uniform, somehow opening the tunic and hiking sweater up far enough to reveal Janeway's bra clad breasts which the Borg promptly covered with her hands, squeezing with loving intensity. As the captain's mouth did its best to devour hers, Seven barked her knee smartly against the waste disposal unit as she somehow wrestled Janeway's trousers down over her hips, lifting the smaller woman up onto the sink counter. She pinned Kathryn against the mirror, reaching down to place her hand against the area where the captain so clearly wanted her to go, profoundly astonished at the copious amount of moisture that allowed her fingers to slip inside with remarkable ease. As Seven fondled her, Janeway's head thudded rhythmically against the mirror, somehow not cracking it ... her head or the glass ... before climaxing hard with a long, drawn-out sob of ecstasy.

Things continued to move far faster than Seven was accustomed to, and when Janeway suddenly grabbed at her with desperate intent, the Borg stumbled backward, tripping over the biometric suit tangled around her feet. Together, they fell onto the waste disposal unit that flushed loudly, apparently triggered by the force of a very solid Borg, and the smaller, but compact captain, landing on the seat with a audible thud. Janeway's fingers were immediately at the juncture between Seven's legs, caressing her intimately, her mouth covering the Borg's, and Seven was astounded when she climaxed almost immediately, just from the feel of Kathryn's half clad body on top of her, and the powerful, almost rough caresses from the captain's hands.

"Oh, darling," Janeway gasped when it was all over and she was slumped in Seven's arms, breathing harshly, her fingers still buried in her spouse.

Seven just blinked, feeling as if she had been run over by a land speeder even as the quite wonderful aftershocks echoed through her. She wondered if this would happen every time she recited a fantasy to the captain, and was determined to make sure she was in a more spacious area next time.

At that moment, from out in the ready room, they both heard the distinct sound of the door chime.

Her mind going curiously blank, Janeway wondered frantically who would be summoning her, especially since everyone but the bare bones of a skeleton crew were supposed to be on shore leave. A stunned Seven watched in astonishment as Janeway swiftly got herself semi-arrayed in a matter of seconds before turning to glare sternly at her spouse.

"You stay in here and don't make a sound," Janeway ordered in an aggrieved hiss.

Grabbing her tunic, Janeway stumbled out into the ready room, closing the red and black jacket over her wrinkled sweater as she dashed down to her desk. "Come," she said breathlessly as she leaped into the chair and grabbed a padd, trying to look like she was completely involved in her work.

Chakotay entered, looking around as if expecting someone else to be there, and then hesitated as he saw her, though she didn't know why. Finally, he moved closer, an odd expression on his face. "Uh, here's the output readings for the power relays," he said, laying the padd gently on the desk.

"Thank you, Commander," Janeway said coolly.

He paused as if to say something further, offered yet another odd expression, then turned around and hastily left the room. Janeway breathed a sigh of relief and slumped in her chair. "You can come out now, Seven."

A very bemused young Borg came out from the bathroom, completely redressed in her biometric outfit, every hair back in place, looking as if absolutely nothing had happened.

"Kathryn?"

"I can't believe this," Janeway said sternly. "I hope you've learned your lesson, Seven. This was completely inappropriate."

"I was merely discussing a fantasy," Seven noted accurately, and somewhat unfairly, Janeway thought. "You were the one who escalated it into an encounter in the bathroom." She glanced down at the padd. "Ah, the output reading for the power relays. Chakotay promised me he would see that I got them."

Janeway stared at her. "You?"

Seven picked up the padd. "He knew I was in here. He saw me come in, after all." She quirked an eyebrow at Janeway. "Kathryn, your hair is .... displaced."

Taken aback, Janeway blinked. "Displaced?"

Seven made a motion with her hand in the general direction of the captain's head. Frowning, Janeway retrieved the mirror from a compartment beneath her desk and looked at her reflection. Her eyes immediately closed and she groaned, her head falling forward onto her hands which covered her face.

"Oh my god."

Her auburn hair was completely awry, several strands falling about her face while others stuck straight up from various places on her head, undoubtedly filled with static from where she had been rubbing against the mirror in the bathroom. She had the dreamy, soft expression of the freshly 'satisfied', despite her best effort to conceal it, and there was a large, blotchy mark on her neck just about where her jawline faded into her throat, directly above the sweater collar with its four golden pips.

"I do not understand, Kathryn," Seven said guilelessly. "If you did not wish to have Commander Chakotay see you in this state of disarray, why did you not simply instruct the computer to tell him you were temporarily indisposed until we had ... composed ourselves adequately? I am sure he would have waited, no doubt assuming that you were performing some form of biological function."

"Oh my god," Janeway repeated.

"Kathryn, are you all right?" Seven tilted her head curiously.

"I can't believe it," Janeway muttered. "I panicked. I heard the chime and I just ... panicked. Like some green ensign caught by a superior officer playing with a lover in the utility closet. Like I was doing something wrong! Dammit, I'm the captain here."

"Kathryn?" Seven repeated, puzzlement clouding her pale blue gaze.

"Annika, I have no intention of discussing this right now," Janeway managed finally, sitting upright and opening her eyes, trying to gather some shred of dignity. "Believe it or not, I'm still on duty."

Seven frowned, moving closer. "Are you angry with me, Kathryn?"

Janeway softened her expression when she saw the obvious disturbance in her spouse's eyes, and she tried to get a grip on herself.

"No darling, not at all," she said ruefully. "I'm a little disgusted with myself, but it's nothing I won't get over."

At Seven's continued unease, Janeway stood up and walked around the desk, reaching out to wrap her arms around the young woman, hugging her tightly.

"Darling, no matter what else," she told her, looking up into the narrow features with great sincerity. "Your fantasy was wonderful, and I have to admit, making love in the bathroom was absolutely thrilling. Possibly it was the danger of getting caught that made it that way, but we can't do this again. Obviously, I can't handle such an encounter in any kind of mature manner at all."

Seven looked vastly disappointed. "I am sorry about that I really did wish to make love to you on your desk right now."

Janeway felt herself being pressed back against that piece of furniture, the Borg's body so warm and full in her arms, the sudden wash of desire tingling along all her nerve endings. For one insane, purely lustful second, she actually considered allowing Seven to fulfill her wish, to lift her onto that desk and ravish her until she screamed. It was one of Janeway's most titillating fantasies, and it took considerable effort to push her spouse away.

"Oh, my god," she groaned. "You have to leave, darling. You're driving me absolutely crazy here."

Seven frowned faintly. "Is that good?"

"You can tell me," Janeway told her, and her voice descended into a husky growl, her eyes burning. "After my shift ends and I meet you back in our quarters. If you survive what happens after that, then yes, it's a good thing."

Seven looked insufferably smug suddenly, and her hands dropped to the captain's bottom, squeezing provocatively.

"Out," Janeway demanded faintly.

Seven kissed her hotly, catching the next protest in her throat.

"Now," Janeway said, breaking away with difficulty. "You have to go, Seven."

Seven hesitated, and then released her slowly as if realizing that the captain was indeed serious. "If you insist."

Janeway wavered internally but tried not to show it. "Go."

Seven kissed her again, just for good measure and left. Janeway returned to her chair, sitting down weakly as she wondered what the hell was going on with her and her spouse.

It has to be the stress we've all been under the past few months, she told herself.

Going nonstop for ten to fourteen days at a stretch, sixteen or eighteen hours a day, was enough to make anyone a little reckless and crazy, even a starship captain. Though she and Seven had found moments to make love and be together briefly, such as their shared off duty rotation the day before, it was a mere taste, encounters that only wetted the appetite, and made her aware of exactly what they were missing rather than completely fulfilling the need.

So much to do and so little time to do it in, Janeway thought with dismay, putting her face in her hands, acutely conscious of Seven's scent lingering on her hands, tickling her nostrils. It wasn't just the physical need, she decided, it was the intimacy, the personal closeness they were missing. A few hours here or there were simply not adequate. She wanted and needed to be with Seven more now after months of marriage than she had when they first became a couple. And how hard was it on Seven? My god, the woman had asked to be taught how to masturbate because a personal release was all she could count on in this time of uncertainty.

Perhaps it was also the fact that Voyager, as a whole, was starting to 'nest', to prepare itself for additions. Even in perfectly controlled conditions, it seemed that one couple making a baby always inspired others to want to do the same. Could she and Seven also be feeling that instinct stir within them? They had agreed not to have children until they returned to the Alpha Quadrant, but was that being fair to themselves? No one really knew for sure when they would get back. Was Janeway really prepared to wait twenty years, even if it were still physically possible by that time to become pregnant?

Janeway rubbed her forehead fretfully and got up, returning to the bathroom where she fixed her hair and washed her face and hands. She noticed that the towels had all been knocked askew, and somehow, a dent had appeared in the wall. That last was definitely Seven's doing, she noted and wondered how she could get ship's maintenance to repair it without speculating on its origin.

Maybe it was all just getting to her, Janeway thought with a sudden weariness, leaning against the sink counter as she rested her forehead against the cool comfort of the mirror. Six years on the same ship, lost, alone, without any kind of support in this unfamiliar space. Maybe she was just flat out sick and tired of this vessel, of being captain, of all the responsibility. Maybe the wild moments when she was able to shed it completely, as she had in this very bathroom moments earlier, only served to make her more aware of how trapped she was.

A week, she reminded herself firmly. A whole week for herself and her crew to refresh and renew themselves. It occurred to her that before being married, she might not have allowed this break at all, that her obsessive nature would have driven herself and her people without consideration, without accepting the need for an interruption to rest. Perhaps Janeway only had to pay attention to the lessons being with Seven was teaching her, and somehow, she would make it through. In the meantime, there was a beautiful woman waiting for her in their quarters, and the captain needed to concentrate on that rather than regretting what she couldn't have.

She left the bathroom and picked up the thermos on the coffee table, shaking it to discover that there was nothing left within it. Sighing, she glanced at the time, realized that she only had a couple of hours to go and decided to get a jump on this month's personnel reports. If that didn't kill her out-of-control ardor, nothing would.

Relieved when 1600 hours rolled around, she shut down her board. Chakotay was lounging in the first officer's chair, the only crewmember currently left on the bridge to monitor the ship's status while on the ground. When his relief showed up in another hour or so, he would also be on leave, as per her orders.  Sun streamed through the transparency in the ceiling and pooled in a circle of light on the deck, the edge just beyond the commander's feet. Janeway hesitated as she saw him, and then realized she could not let this lie. Taking a deep breath, she went over and sat beside him, finding that she was having a certain amount of difficulty looking him in the eye.

"I suppose," she said finally, "you find this remarkably unprofessional."

There was a low chuckle beside her, and she dared to glance at him. He shook his head ruefully. "Do you know why I take every opportunity I can to tease you?"

Janeway set her jaw. "I presume it's because it amuses you."

"No, it's because it gives me a chance to reach another side of you. I know you don't really like being teased, but you take it and frankly, it gives me and the crew a chance to see that you're Human. That's something that, for a long time, you seemed to want to forget ... until you met Seven and she shoved it in your face enough that you had no choice but to accept it again. I guess I failed you in this. I should have been able to help you 'be Human' from the start, Kathryn."

Janeway was astonished. "It's not your fault," she ventured slowly. "I've always believed that to be captain, to be a Starfleet officer, meant I had to be ... more than 'just Human'."

"But it was my job to teach you differently." There was a touch of sadness in his tone. "Maybe it's an occupational hazard because sometimes I forget myself." He looked at her. "I'm glad you and Seven found each other. I'm glad that she can make you Human enough that you can occasionally throw protocol out the airlock, and be wild with her in the ready room bathroom."

Janeway blushed. "How did you know?" she asked, even as her little voice inside rolled its figurative eyes and wondered how he could possibly not know, considering what she had looked like when he had been in the ready room.

He quirked an eyebrow. "Kathryn, there's no other place to hide a six foot Borg, and the windows just won't open." He snickered. "Though I can picture you actually trying, in that moment of panic. The bathroom was the only logical place." He looked at her with a vaguely puzzled expression. "Why did you feel the need to hide her? It isn't unusual for Seven to be in your ready room."

Janeway looked pained. "It would if she's not exactly ... dressed anymore."

He started to laugh, and despite herself, she did as well.

"Kathryn, you don't need to play the prim and proper captain with me all the time," he told her after they had trailed away to a few chuckles. "You're a passionate woman. I've always known that, and it certainly doesn't lower my opinion of you that you would indulge that passion for Seven on occasion. Frankly, I couldn't imagine being married to her, and not indulging that passion every chance I could, regardless of where I was and what I was doing."

Janeway sighed and leaned her head back in her chair, regarding the ceiling. "Still, there are areas where certain protocols must be upheld," she said ruefully. "A captain's ready room is one of them."

"Is that why you took it into the bathroom? Because technically, it's not your ready room? In any event, I don't think that the ship is going to fall apart just because you drop a protocol or two, every so often. Honestly, Kathryn, we're pretty much all adults here."

"For the next four months, anyway," Janeway noted dryly.

"Yeah, there is that." He paused before following that thought further, his dark features becoming serious. "It's going to be a big change."

Her blue eyes darkened. "I know. Not exactly what I had in mind when I accepted the pips ... captain of a ship with families. It's not as if I ever wanted a Galaxy-class vessel."

He nudged her shoulder with his elbow. "Sometimes, that's how life works, and every day we learn a new lesson about ourselves."

She nodded in silent agreement before glancing at him. "I need to get ... home," she said, hesitating over the word. "Seven is probably has dinner waiting for me."

He smiled somewhat wistfully. "Then you'd better not disappoint her." She stood up and he added, "Kathryn?"

She paused, regarding him quizzically.

His smile widened. "You look really good ... when you drop the occasional protocol, that is."

His chuckles followed her off the bridge, and she tried to control the blush that raced up her neck and made her face glow pink. Months. He was absolutely going to be living off this one for months.

She stopped in surprise as she walked into the captain's quarters, astounded by how different things looked. She had grown accustomed to the way the ready room appeared in natural light, but to see her cabin ... her home ... illuminated by sunshine and blue sky through the windows rather than the eternal darkness of space startled her profoundly. She looked over at Seven who was behind the counter of her kitchenette, preparing something that already smelled absolutely wonderful.

The Borg quirked a knowing eyebrow at her spouse. "Are you still amorous? Or merely hungry."

Janeway blushed again, and thought that she really needed to get that medically repaired. Ask the Doctor to figure out whichever gland it was that made one blush, and have it surgically removed. It was quite inconvenient for a starship captain.

"Both," she admitted. "But food first. For energy."

"Of course," Seven said.

And smiled.

"Kathryn?"

Janeway blinked, then smiled. "Sorry, darling, I was thinking about something." Her face cleared as she came over and slid into the bed beside her spouse.

"Are you having difficulty sleeping?" Seven asked, curious at her partner's nocturnal excursion.

Janeway leaned over and kissed her. "I just needed a drink of water," she replied reassuringly. "I also read a little bit to try to settle my thoughts."

She leaned back against her pillows as Seven shifted so that her head was resting lightly on the captain's shoulder, her arm wrapped warmly over Janeway's stomach. Seven noted that the illumination in the room was coming from the running light over her head, and realized that it must still be dark outside the ship. A glance at the chronometer let her know it was only 0330 hours, and the sun had yet to rise on this, their third day of their shore leave. Seven yawned and settled pleasantly against the warm body of her partner. Yesterday had been spent gloriously catching up on all the lovemaking they had missed the past couple of months ... or at least, attempting to. There were parts of her that were still somewhat tender, and she thought that Kathryn must be equally as sore, having noted the somewhat ginger way the captain had walked across the deck to the bed.

She smiled faintly and hugged Janeway. "Do you want to tell me what you were thinking about?"

Janeway made a soft sound, rueful in the night. "Oh, just everything, Annika. Being lost, having children, where we go from here."

Seven rubbed her cheek lightly against the smooth skin of the captain's chest. "That is a great deal to consider at this particular time of the morning."

A gentle chuckle rumbled through her. "For some reason, the darkest hour before dawn is when thoughts like this seem to crowd most deeply in one's head."

"Indeed." Seven rubbed Janeway's stomach idly with her palm, her fingers spreading wide over the warm swell of her spouse's abdomen. "Sometimes," she added uncertainly, "I wish you were not captain."

Janeway did not answer immediately, and Seven wondered regretfully if perhaps her words had hurt the other woman. Then Janeway kissed her forehead gently. "Sometimes," she admitted in a low voice, "I wish that, too." Then she inhaled deeply. "At the same time, I can't imagine being anything else."

Seven sighed her agreement. "It is something that is very much a part of you, just as I am Borg. Sometimes I resent that I am, sometimes I regret the circumstances that made me such, and sometimes I dislike what it means to be Borg, but I always know that it is part of what makes me who I am."

"Hmm, you're quite insightful, considering how early in the morning it is," Janeway teased gently.

"I have had much to think on lately, as well." Seven listened to the steady throb of her spouse's heart in her ear. "Kathryn, did you always want to be in Starfleet?"

"Yes," Janeway said without hesitation. Her fingers meandered over Seven's arm, lightly tracing the starburst implant embedded in the young woman's bicep. "From the time I was very young."

"You never questioned it?"

Janeway considered it. "I don't think so," she said thoughtfully. "You have to remember, Annika, my father was an admiral