Janeway guessed that Seven had been restraining herself until she reached their quarters, but now, in this haven of her home and her partner's arms, she had leave to let go. Janeway hugged her close, rubbing the small of Seven's back and murmuring words that did not have to make sense as long as the tone was comforting. After a few moments, she managed to nudge Seven over to the sofa where they settled onto it, the young woman still clinging to her for comfort.

Janeway waited until the worst of the tremors had passed and Seven had once more managed to gather together most of her tattered composure.

"Tell me," she requested softly.

"I saw ... them," Seven said, swallowing hard. "My ... the Hansens."

Janeway closed her eyes and rested her chin on the top of Seven's blonde hair, cuddling her head warmly to her chest. "I see," she murmured. "Do you want to tell me what happened? What did they do to you?" A fierce sense of protectiveness came over her and she held Seven tighter.

"It was not bad," Seven said finally. "I know you probably assume that by how I am acting, but it is merely a physiological response to all the feelings I have held in check today."

"All right," Janeway allowed evenly, drawing back so she could look into her partner's face. A wealth of emotions chased each other across the young woman's narrow features, and the captain knew it would take a while to sort them all out. Fortunately, her evening was completely free and she slowed things down further by reaching out and kissing Seven softly, lingering over the full lips. "One thing at a time, darling," she said after a moment or two. "I'm here for you. We can take as long as you need."

Seven nodded, sitting up rather than lying across the captain as she had been doing, and straightening her outfit though it never really required adjusting, clinging as it did to her form. She took a slow, deep inhalation and began to speak, obviously trying to arrange her thoughts into some semblance of order.

"I went to their quarters at 1400 hours," she said, falling into a rhythm of reciting that, undoubtedly, made it easier for her give herself some much needed distance from what had happened. "The Hansens greeted me and we discussed why I had requested the meeting."

"Why did you?" Janeway asked, with honest curiosity.

"I did not know initially," Seven admitted. "But now I believe it was because I wished to say good-bye to them. Does that make sense?"

Janeway thought about it. "Perhaps," she said quietly. "I know you never really got to say good-bye to your real parents. Did it help?"

Seven's gaze faded, as if she were looking inside herself, and Janeway waited patiently.

"Yes," Seven said finally. "I believe it did. I no longer feel so ... adrift." Her pale eyes rose to meet Janeway's. "I have felt ... so lost since my encounter with the Mimic, even with you and Sek helping me. I no longer feel that, now, though I am uncertain why that is so."

"That's good to hear, darling," the captain said, swallowing back the lump which had appeared in her throat. She had felt so impotent, unable to help her partner during such an emotionally disturbing time. It had taken an effort to accept that maybe she simply couldn't be everything that Seven required all the time. To know that now at least, Seven had found her own way to deal with it, made her honestly happy for her partner. "I'm truly glad that if nothing else, we've gotten that much out of our current situation."

Seven nodded and took a few deep breaths, centering herself.

"After my reasoning had been established," Seven continued, "we looked through a photo album containing images of Annika and her life. It was interesting to see how she progressed through the years, and what might have been for me had my path been different. The Hansens were full of many stories about their daughter, yet..." She trailed off, her eyes shadowed as she looked down, studying her hand idly. It was the left one, its silver mesh glinting slightly in the subdued lighting. "They are so distant from Annika," she said softly, slowly. "Though a certain percentage of it is by their own choice, it seems also to be something they are helpless to counter, even as they dearly want to." She glanced over as Janeway took her implant between her own hands, cradling it gently. "They are just ... just people, Kathryn," she added, in a vaguely confused tone. "They are ... merely Human."

"Yes," Janeway said softly, a small smile curling the corners of her mouth. "I'm sure they are. Not the root of all evil, not the ones truly responsible for everything bad that has ever happened to Annika ... or you." She smiled gently. "It's a big surprise, isn't it? To know that parents don't always have complete control of the situation? That most of the time, they're just bumbling their own way through life the same as we are."

"It is," Seven allowed quietly. "I know that I had discussed this before with you, and with B'Elanna. But until now, I do not think I really understood it."

She turned slightly, then, her body angling toward Janeway, she slipped her right arm around the captain and pulled her close to her. Janeway could feel her rest her cheek against her temple, and she leaned into the young woman, offering her strength and support without words, slipping her own arm around Seven's waist as she continued to retain her grip on Seven's left hand. They sat in silence for a few moments, and Janeway nurtured it, bringing Seven's palm up to her lips where she kissed it gently between the metallic bands of soft grey.

"It has given me much to think about," Seven said finally.

"That's not surprising," Janeway said simply. "It will be something that will be with you for a long time as you finish working it out. Just know that I'll be here to listen whenever you need to talk about it."

"I know, Kathryn," Seven whispered into the auburn hair.

There was another pause, more comfortable this time. "I spoke to Johnson again today," Janeway added casually, not sure if Seven was ready to change the subject, but offering her the opportunity nonetheless.

"Indeed," Seven responded. The Borg leaned back against the sofa cushions behind her and Janeway settled down with her, the couple relaxing into the undeniable comfort they always managed to find in each other, contentment weaving its inevitable spell over them. "Did she indicate what was in the communiqué?"

Janeway chuckled. "Trust you to cut to the heart of the matter," she muttered. "As a matter of fact, yes." She sobered. "The war's going very badly for them, love," she revealed quietly. "It's so bad that even Earth might fall. They've come up with a plan to incorporate the altered nanoprobes into their weapons, if only they can figure out how to limit it to merely assimilating Dominion ships and technology into useless lumps of metal. The Hansens, meanwhile, are on their way to a scientific conference to work on the Borg aspect of the effort, in the hopes they can come up with some form of biological agent that would work on the Dominion."

Seven blinked. "I do not believe that would be acceptable to them."

"They might not have much choice," Janeway responded, her voice hardening. "It's help Starfleet, or end up under Dominion rule. How do they think they continue to enjoy the privileges of living free in the Federation? Do they think freedom happens by accident, by Divine intervention?"

"I'm sure they do not think that," Seven said mildly, and Janeway tempered her flare of outrage over the civilian scientists, realizing she was taking it out on the one person who least deserved it.

"Sorry, darling," she muttered, vaguely embarrassed. "In any event, this may be the Federation's last hope. I mean, look at that crew, Seven. Except for a few officers here and there, pulled out of retirement or administrative positions, the rest are all kids, barely old enough to graduate the Academy. Do you realize what that implies about how badly Starfleet is hurting? It's far worse than what we'll have to face when we return home."

"I understand, Kathryn," Seven said calmly. She grew thoughtful and Janeway remained silent, wondering what was going through that unique mind of her partner's. "Perhaps we could convince the Hansens that it is in their best interests to cooperate with Starfleet?"

"Us?" Janeway was floored. "You mean, you and me?"

Seven smiled faintly, her ice blue eyes warming with amusement. "That is usually what I am referring to when I use the term 'us'," she pointed out. "We have no ulterior motivations other than the desire to see our counterparts happy. And despite the problems they have had, I truly believe that the Hansens wish to see Annika happy, as well. Plus, it is to their advantage to live in the Federation rather than under the Dominion. From the information we have received from our Federation's encounter with them, we know that the Founders utilize a great deal of genetic manipulation on the species under their control, particularly with the Jem'Hadar and the Vorta. As specialists in Borg cybernetics, the Hansens would be immediately utilized by the commanding forces of the Dominion. Perhaps if we point out how losing the war will directly affect their own future, they will be more inclined to help."

Janeway thought about that warily, looking at it from all angles. "You mean, put a personal connection to the whole thing," she said slowly, with grudging approval. "Make them realize that they aren't apart from this war, that indeed, it will affect them as much as it is affecting their daughter and every other Starfleet officer." She took a deep breath, nodded. "That's a damned good idea, darling. I'll admit, sometimes Starfleet does its job too well. We keep all the threats and hazards at bay, and the billions of civilians we protect are sometimes unaware of what exactly it takes for them to be able to enjoy the peaceful life they have. Perhaps that's as much our fault as theirs, surrounding ourselves with protocols and regulations, keeping them outside our special little world, believing we are all the Federation needs to survive, expand and succeed. Only when something like this happens, do we all realize what's truly at stake and why Starfleet exists in the first place. To preserve and protect the Federation ideals and culture."

Seven blinked. "That is ... most profound."

"Hey," Janeway muttered, poking her partner in the ribs with her thumb. "I can be profound. I'm not totally stuck in my own little rut."

"I never thought you were," Seven remarked with warm amusement. She hugged Janeway close, brushing her lips over the captain's brow. "What we must do is divert everyone else from their 'ruts'. Kathryn and Annika from their circle of not communicating, the Hansens from refusing to understand the larger picture, and the other Voyager from its belief that they are incapable of victory."

Janeway inhaled slowly. "That's all?" she said dryly. "And I thought this was going to be hard." She leaned her head back, looking up at her partner with a sly grin. "But we can't do it on an empty stomach."

Seven actually laughed slightly. "Of course not," she agreed, her eyes bright. "What shall we make to remedy that?"

"Hmm," Janeway said. "I'm thinking that something hearty is required. The sort of stuff that sticks to your ribs and gives one all sorts of energy to tackle a hard job."

"Gretchen's beef, corn and potato casserole will be perfect," Seven noted, pushing the captain gently off her lap with Janeway unsure how she had ended up edging onto it in the first place. "You replicate the necessary ingredients and set the table. The list is already in the pattern buffer under my code. I must change and then, I will prepare our meal."

"I will comply," Janeway replied obediently, with a wisp of a grin tossed Seven's way. The Borg merely rolled her eyes briefly and headed for the ensuite.

It went against a lot of her internal discipline that had served her so well for so many years, so she attempted to ignore all of it.

"What did you think of my parents?" Annika asked as she brought over a tray containing two mugs of tea and turnovers of some kind.

Seven accepted the tea and gingerly selected one of the smaller pieces of the nut-and-sugar covered pastries. "They were very ... 'Human'," Seven responded. That was not what she had wanted to say, but the meeting with Magnus and Erin remained fresh in her mind, making it difficult for her to assign proper terms to how it went. Even talking it over with Kathryn had not clarified all the various emotions she felt, not entirely. She searched her mind for something that would convey everything that had occurred. "We spoke of many things, including my relationship with the captain."

"Yeah?" Annika replied with such careful casualness that Seven had to restrain a smile. She wondered if she were equally as transparent, then decided that since she never attempted to disguise what she was really feeling most of the time, it was not really an issue. "What did they have to say to that?"

"They seemed quite ... interested," Seven allowed, taking a cautious bite of the pastry. It was far too sweet for her liking and she sipped her tea quickly. "They wish to meet Kathryn, to 'get to know her better'. They invited us to dinner tonight."

Annika stared at her, a baffled look on her face. "You have to be kidding," she exclaimed.

"No," Seven responded, surprised by the accusation. "Erin made the invitation herself. I did not misinterpret it."

Annika blinked. "That's not what I meant," she said, taking a deep breath. "I'm just surprised that they would even entertain the notion." She paused. "They do know she's Starfleet, don't they?"

"Of course," Seven remarked. She quirked an eyebrow. "It did not seem significant to them."

"Oh, it's significant, all right," Annika said, her eyes narrowed. She appeared to be thinking furiously about something. "Did you accept?"

"Of course," Seven said. "I'm sure Kathryn will be pleased to meet them."

"You think?" Annika said, with such skepticism that Seven was forced to rethink her assumption.

"You do not agree?"

"Well, if she's anything like my Kathryn, she'll come up with a hundred reasons, all good ones, why she can't go," Annika said, taking a large bite from her danish, almost as if she were emphasizing the point. "In fact," she added in a spray of crumbs which wafted lightly down to join the other debris littering the sofa, "I bet she arranges a red alert or something just so she doesn't have to go."

Seven frowned, thinking that over. She had to admit that there had been times in the past when she had made plans only to have Janeway cancel them due to duty. The Borg had not thought anything of it at the time, but now she wondered if the incidents which forced the cancellations had been all that crucial? Indeed, how often was Janeway required to personally supervise the cleaning of the Jeffries tube by some of the Equinox crewmen, which was the reason she had given Seven the last time the young woman had wanted the couple to attend an art exhibit on a planet during a recent shore leave.

Seven's eyes narrowed. If Janeway was inventing reasons to get out of doing things, then the Borg would have to create a strategy to counter that.

"Seven?"

Blinking, the young woman looked over at her counterpart.

"Where'd you go?"

Since Seven had not moved from her seat, she realized that she had been so lost in thought, she had been ignoring Annika's conversation. A quick scan of her eidetic memory revealed that Annika had been implying that her parents probably had an ulterior motive for inviting Seven and Janeway for dinner.

"Do they never invite you to dinner?" Seven asked curiously.

"Uh, sure," Annika responded. "But I never go."

"Why not?"

Annika looked stubborn, much as Naomi or Kathryn did on occasion when they didn't want to admit to something, and Seven waited patiently, knowing it was the most useful tactic for dealing with that attitude.

"We just end up fighting," the physicist said finally. "It's not worth the effort."

"Ah," Seven remarked. "Perhaps you should accept now. Indeed, I think it would be in your best interests to contact them and let them know you would."

Annika took a deep breath. "I'm not sure."

Seven considered that. "What would it take to make you 'sure'?" she asked curiously.

Frowning, Annika sipped her tea. "I don't know," she admitted. She paused. "Maybe you're right. I should contact them and find out where things stand now. Avoiding it certainly doesn't seem to do much good."

Seven picked up a padd wedged in the crease of the cushions next to her. "Send them a memo asking if their invitation is still open," she insisted. "That way, you will not have to speak directly to them." If there was the slightest hint of exasperation in her tone, she did not believe that Annika detected it.

Annika regarded the padd warily, as if it were something that was going to bite her, then reluctantly took it and keyed in the proper commands, linking the small padd into the main computer as she made the request.

"I hope you know what you're doing," she grumbled when she was finished.

It did not seem the sort of statement Seven could respond to with anything particularly reassuring so she changed the subject.

"Kathryn says that the war in your reality is going badly for the Federation."

Annika looked confused by the shift, but obligingly responded.

"I think ... we're losing," she admitted. "I don't know all the particulars, but from what I manage to get from my Kathryn, it's not good."

Seven knew that her partner had shared the information from the communiqué in confidence to her spouse and that Dr. Hansen was unaware of its contents. Seven was not adept at subtlety, though she was a great deal better at it than she used to be. This would require a certain amount of care, she decided.

"Have you considered the thought that the enhanced nanoprobes that were altered by my transition through realities could be of use in the war effort?" she asked delicately.

"It's not Species 8472 we're fighting here," Annika pointed out. "What good would they do, other than possibly assimilate what they hit and that wouldn't be good for the Federation either."

Seven was very careful here. "Not if their phase signature was left unaltered."

Annika blinked. "You mean, so that they just assimilate technology into inactive lumps of metal?" she said. Her eyes grew thoughtful. "I don't know, Seven," she said. "How would we deliver them to the enemy? After all, they would turn our weapons into inert free-form sculptures, as well."

Seven decided that one more push might do the trick. "Perhaps if you created weapons with the same molecular signature," she said. "Utilize the replicator patterns of our phaser rifles and weapons array and recreate them in your universe, adapting them to your ships."

Annika stared at her. "Wow, Seven, what made you come up with that?" she said, startled and seemingly pleased by the suggestion. "That's a great idea. Why didn't I think of it?"

"It will not be easy to adapt such patterns to function within your universe," Seven reminded her counterpart.

"No, but once the theory is in place, then it's just a matter of making it work," Annika said, with the sort of casual conviction that only the intensely brilliant or the perpetually oblivious could manage when discussing such a technological advance. Her pale eyes grew distant as her keen intellect considered the problem, and Seven thought that perhaps she had 'managed' the conversation quite enough for the time being. Any more, and she risked revealing something that perhaps she shouldn't.

It was time to change the subject again and the Borg searched for the proper topic.

"I understand Captain Johnson is being released from sickbay this morning," she blurted.

Again, Annika looked somewhat confused, but gamely tried to keep up.

"She is. If she doesn't upset Dr. Pulaski too much, she should be out by 1100 hours."

"And how do you plan to welcome her home?" Seven asked. "You have yet to practice any of Gretchen's recipes that I have given you nor have you made any effort to recreate Phoebe's coffee."

Hansen looked appropriately guilty. "No, I haven't yet," she admitted. "But when the hell have we had time?"

"I do not understand," Seven said. "Explain."

"Explain?"

"You love Captain Johnson yet you refuse to make the effort to recreate those items which would bring her comfort and pleasure. Why?"

"It's not that I don't want to do things for Kathryn," Hansen said. "But I'm not a Traditionalist. I don't know the first thing about replicating raw proteins or maintaining a stock of coffee beans."

"Then you shall learn," Seven said firmly. "You have less than two hours before Captain Johnson is released from Sickbay. We must hurry."

"Couldn't you just whip something up and I could give it to her?"

Seven tilted her head and looked at her counterpart. "Then it would be a gift to her from me and not from you."

"But I'm no good around replicators."

"You possess superior intelligence." Seven said, rising to her feet and skirting the pile of dirty laundry to reach the replicator. "You will learn."

"I'll make a deal with you," Hansen said, causing the Borg to look at her warily. It was the same tone B'Elanna used when she wanted Seven to help her with something that she knew Kathryn would not approve of. "I'll learn to make the coffee if you help me with the nanoprobe idea. Together we can figure it out in minutes, I'm sure."

"You will learn to make Phoebe's coffee and four of Gretchen's recipes," Seven countered, relieved that the request was what she had hoped to provide anyway. However, she still attempted to gain a better 'bargain', just as her observations of her partner while negotiating had taught her. "I assure you the meals will appeal to your Kathryn, and you will undoubtedly be rewarded by her for the 'gesture'."

"If you say so," Hansen replied, following the Borg to the replicator. "I'm not as convinced. My Kathryn has never raved over any meal."

"I am married," Seven pointed out.

"Good point," Hansen conceded, bowing to the Borg's superior intellect when it came to keeping the daughter of Gretchen Janeway happy.

Janeway watched closely as Johnson entered her quarters, making sure that the newly released captain was not trying to cover up any greater weakness or pain. It was a trick that she herself had done many times, though Seven was becoming quite good at penetrating such attempts at disguise, and she had no intention of allowing her counterpart to get away with it. Particularly since she was responsible for determining if Johnson was fit to resume command within the next couple of days.

Johnson was moving reasonably well, but still tired easily, Janeway noted. As soon as the door slid shut behind them, the captain sank down into the first chair she passed. Janeway decided not to notice that, merely taking a seat on the sofa across from her. She glanced around the quarters curiously, not really having had the opportunity when she and Seven had brought Annika here a few days earlier. She noted that it was not as immaculate as hers and still very much designed for one person. Various antiques and professionally selected items were scattered over the shelves and tables ... and of course, there was no kitchenette, just a replicator and a dining table.

There wasn't much in the way of personal items. No images of Annika or of Johnson's family, no small little knickknacks picked up as special reminders of places she had been. It reminded Janeway of how her quarters had looked in her early years in the Delta Quadrant. It had hurt to have images of family, knowing that she was so far away from them. Now, of course, even though they were still light years from the Federation, there were many prints and pictures on the walls of the quarters she shared with Seven, and they had acquired so many souvenirs, it was becoming difficult to find room for them. This cabin was positively spartan in comparison and she wondered what Johnson's excuse was for keeping images and personal mementos out of her living quarters.

"Some question about the decor?" Johnson noted dryly, having watched the other captain survey the room.

"You have nothing of yourself here," Janeway responded honestly. "No deeply personal items, no images of Annika, but even more surprising, none of Mom or Phoebe. As part of our contact with Starfleet, we now get personal communiqués as well, and Phoebe was able to send us prints of her latest work. We have three of her paintings on our walls ... two in the living area and one in the bedroom. It makes our quarters more of a 'home' rather than simply the place Seven and I sleep."

Johnson seemed to find it hard to look at Janeway directly, her eyes looking around as if she was seeing it for the first time, herself. "I guess ... it didn't seem important that this should be 'homey'."

Janeway blinked. "When Annika moves in, that will have to change."

Johnson inhaled deeply, with exasperation. "I think you're getting way ahead of yourself. Besides, have you seen how she lives? She's a slob."

Janeway snorted. "So are we," she said. "To a certain extent. If you didn't have a lower deck officer in once a day to pick up, there would be coffee cups and padds all over the place."

"At least I pick up my clothes and make my own bed," Johnson objected.

"Starfleet training," Janeway noted evenly. "They wouldn't let us graduate until we knew how to make hospital corners and learned how dangerous it was to leave loose items lying around in a space ship."

Johnson didn't reply, merely crossing her arms over her chest and looking stubborn. Janeway wanted to smack her and wondered if she was equally as irritating when she was being contrary. She supposed it was a good thing that Seven was more likely to respond to her obstinant moments with devastating logic rather than a clout across the ear, or she wouldn't have her head attached to her shoulders anymore.

"Look, this isn't about getting your command back anymore," Janeway said, allowing the anger to grant more power to her voice. "This is about getting yourself back. And the only way to do that, is to allow yourself to accept how much you need Annika Hansen."

She stood up, pacing about the room, aware that Johnson was staring at her in astonishment. It was probably the lecturing tone, Janeway thought. She had never been on the other side of it, but she knew her crew found it to be a most disturbing experience. Maybe it would also get through to her other self.

"Right now you're just so damned determined to play the tough captain that you forget it's the woman inside that powers your ability to command," she said, her voice cold and implacable, her eyes sparking thunder grey. "When you don't support that woman, when you don't provide yourself with what you truly need ... love, happiness, and comfort ... the more fragile the captain becomes. You need a solid foundation to raise the strongest fortress. Without it, you're nothing more than a shell, and once the cracks start appearing, there's nothing there to shore them up."

She turned and glared at her counterpart, hands on her hips. "The reason you lost your command in the first place, was because you forgot that," she said. "You got it back when you allowed Annika into your heart, making you a stronger person. But the more you push her away, the weaker you become. It's not even about Annika, really, it's about you and the courage you have inside. If you can't be strong enough to love, how the hell can you be strong enough to lead!"

"I don't really understand what you're talking about," Johnson said, in that particularly mild tone that both women got when they were at their most obstinate.

Janeway rolled her eyes. "It's about who you are and how you have to let Annika be a part of that, just as she has to let you be a part of who she is."

"You're talking dependence..." Johnson began.

"I'm talking about unity," Janeway retorted, cutting her off sharply. "The unity of the whole. It means that while we maintain our independence because we both require it as individuals, when the chips are down, Seven and I work as a single unit, whether the challenge is personal or professional. Right now, regardless of what the challenge is, you two come at it from totally different angles." She searched for the proper words, frustration filling her chest. "Maybe ... maybe it's a Borg thing. When Seven assimilated me, she took everything I was into her. But in exchange, she gave me everything she was. The memories and knowledge faded when we severed the link, but something stayed with us. It's a ... a ... a belief in the other that transcends everything else in our lives." She shook her head, realizing she had slid into a concept that she didn't fully comprehend herself, let alone have the skill needed to convey it in mere words.

"Are you suggesting that Annika and I get assimilated together?" Johnson asked silkily.

"I'm not saying that," Janeway said, aggravation edging her tone. "What I am saying is that you need to recognize what Annika can give you." She paused, paling a little, and when she continued, it was in a very low, intent voice. "When Daddy and Justin died, a certain part of us died with them. Somehow, Seven restored it to me. You need to let Annika restore it to you."

Johnson looked angry at the reference to death of Admiral Janeway. "You know, you're sounding slightly irrational here," she tried.

"Maybe," Janeway responded gently. "But maybe this isn't about being rational. Maybe it's about needing something that you can't even put in words and when you finally find it, you realize you don't ever want to live without it. Otherwise, the rest of your life, you'll look for it without ever really knowing what it is that you're looking for. I know that the only way I feel whole is with Seven by my side, sharing my life completely."

"Well, there's a scientific analysis," Johnson said sarcastically. "God, you sound more like Phoebe than me."

Janeway narrowed her eyes. "Maybe she always had the right idea," she said. She paused. "Let me ask you this ... who's happier overall?" She straightened her shoulders. "How happy was Dad?" she added pointedly.

Johnson glared at her. "He was a Starfleet Admiral."

"Who we would have given anything to have had around more when we were growing up. He was the absent parent, the one who had to ask Mom what we wanted for our birthdays if he even remembered them at all. Is that what you want? To be so wrapped up in your career that you sacrifice everything else, including happiness with Annika?" Janeway shook her head. "I know better. Whether you accept it or not, Annika Hansen holds your heart and you hers. You need to fix this before either of you can go on."

Johnson blinked at her, uncomprehendingly, then the door chime sounded and Janeway eyed her counterpart sternly.

"In any event, it looks like you just ran out of time," she said. "Now, you're going to have to decide whether you want to be only a starship captain, or if you want to be Captain Johnson, the whole person." She threw up her hands. "Look, all I want is for you to talk to the woman. Can you do that?"

Johnson looked frustrated as well.

"I'll try," she said and Janeway had to content herself with that as she went to answer the door.

"We have to hurry," Hansen said as she stepped out of the shower. "Dr. Pulaski released her twenty minutes ago."  Seven quirked an eyebrow and handed her a towel, looking slightly exasperated, but since the Borg had looked like that for the past two hours, Annika had pretty much learned to ignore it by now.

Taking one last stab at getting her cropped blond hair to look its best, she wondered to herself if Kathryn would prefer it longer the way Seven indicated her captain did. Of course, allowing it to grow long would mean having to pay more attention to it in terms of both time and care. Still, perhaps Seven was right, she mused while taking a final look in the mirror. Certainly everything else her counterpart had said in her economy of words and straight forward manner had made sense, and Annika was willing to do anything it took.

"It is not my fault you failed to prepare yourself prior to Captain Johnson's release," Seven said, her arms folded across her chest. "You knew what time the doctor planned on releasing her."

"Just help me finish getting ready," the physicist said, conceding the point. Naked, she padded out of the ensuite and walked over to her closet, staring pensively at the selection. Several long white lab coats, a set of dress whites and one spare uniform fought for space in her cramped closet. The two dresses that she did have were ones that Kathryn had seen her in before and simply would not do.

"Dammit, what am I thinking?" she asked aloud. "I have nothing to wear."

Seven rolled her eyes and left the bedroom where she went to the replicator, programming in a selection before returning with a shimmering dress made with an economy of material.

"You've got to be kidding," the scientist said when she saw what Seven had materialized. "Oh no. There is no way that will work on me. And it's the middle of the day, for crying out loud."

"It is patterned after the one that Kathryn gave to me for our anniversary," the Borg said, handing the dress to her twin. Certain that she was making a mistake, Annika slid the shimmering dress over her head and stepped into the low heeled shoes. Running her hands down the silky fabric, she realized why the program had not included matching underwear. There was simply no room between the dress and her body to wear any. Nervously she returned to the ensuite and stared at herself in the mirror.

Seven was right, the dress fit perfectly, the soft blue material clinging to her body in all the right places, the thin straps whisper soft on her shoulders, the neckline low enough to see just a hint of her breasts. Her back was exposed as was a good portion of her legs, the material stopping several centimeters above her knees. The normally conservative scientist had to admit that the dress was beautiful and in turn, made her feel much less like the clumsy brain who was all arms and legs, and much more as the woman she wanted to be. She added the perfume she knew to be Kathryn's favorite to her wrists and between her breasts, adding a drop for good measure behind each earlobe.

"Are you really sure this will work?" Hansen asked one last time as she followed Seven into the living area.

"Yes," Seven said firmly, heading for the door. "Was I not correct with regards to the memo to your parents? Did they not respond with their message as you would have hoped? Just do not forget what I have told you and ... good luck."

"Thank you, Seven," Hansen said, not watching the Borg leave as she returned to the ensuite. One last check of her hair, which no matter what she did would never look the way she wanted, and she was off to welcome Kathryn home ... and do whatever it took to get the woman she loved back.

But when she requested admittance to the captain's quarters, she was disappointed to see Johnson sitting on the chair, dressed in her uniform trousers and t-shirt. The scientist felt extremely foolish, as if she were a teenager trying far too hard to attract the attention of some celebrity. Not even the look of stunned appreciation in the captain's eyes made her feel better, and her face felt hot as she entered, barely acknowledging Janeway's presence.

"If you ladies will excuse me," Janeway murmured, already on her way out. She cast one final, warning look at Johnson before the door hissed shut behind her.

"Obviously, I'm overdressed for this," Annika said, looking down at her feet.

"No, god no," Johnson muttered, rising from the chair and catching her lover's hands in her own. "I'm ... Annika, you look incredible." She hesitated, then drew her hand back uncertainly. "I'm sorry ... I'm a fool."

"No," the scientist said, looking up at the distress in her lover's face. She took a breath, trying to remember what Seven had told her about being honest. "Listen, we're probably both just trying too hard, thinking about it too much." She spread her hands out. "What we look like is irrelevant."

Johnson inhaled, obviously searching for something to say. "Um, the dinner I made is still here," she said, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the table which had been set a week earlier with candles, the fine china covered with a stasis field. "Or rather, the dinner I programmed into the replicator. Are you hungry? We might as well have it for lunch."

"Sure," Annika said, though the last thing she wanted to do was eat.

Her stomach churned unpleasantly, and as she sat down to the elegant place setting, she searched her mind, wishing she knew what to say. Johnson busied herself at the replicator, programming in the commands and bringing over two plates, piled high with food. After sitting down, she uncorked the bottle of wine and poured two glasses of the ruby liquid. Annika noted that the captain drained half her glass in the first swallow and immediately followed suit, hoping the illusion of control the alcohol provided, might get her through the next few moments. They began their meal, both occasionally trying to start conversations which began weakly and expired almost immediately, unable to be sustained in this atmosphere of extreme uncertainty and confusion. Annika thought the food was probably quite good but it tasted like ashes in her mouth and she had difficulty swallowing, each morsel seeming like a huge lump that pushed down her throat and lay in her stomach like an unexploded photon grenade.

"This shouldn't be this hard," Annika said finally, pushing her plate away and slumping back in her chair.

"I agree," Johnson said quietly. "When did it get so ... damned awkward?"

"When we stopped talking to each other. When we started treating each other as captain and lieutenant instead of Kathryn and Annika. It shouldn't hurt this much to be in love with you."

Johnson took another long swallow of her wine, watching as Hansen did the same. "No it shouldn't," she agreed. She paused, searching for the right thing to say. "I don't want to lose you," she said finally, in as simple terms as she could manage.

"Why?"

Johnson held back the tart rejoinder that initially came to the tip of her tongue, remembering Janeway's words. Throwing out a host of other answers, she said "Because I love you."

Hansen looked at her empty glass for a moment before answering. "It's been a long time since you've told me that," she noted. "I love you too."

Kathryn Johnson looked over the table at the woman she loved, the woman she knew without a doubt she would protect with everything she had and would give everything up for. All the petty fights and cold silences hurt with the pain of time lost that should have been spent loving each other. Was she beginning to finally comprehend what Janeway had been telling her? "When did I stop being so understanding of you and your needs?"

"Probably about the same time I stopped trying to tell you how I felt and instead, started being insubordinant to your command," Hansen said, feeling equal guilt over their arguments.

"So where do we go from here?"

"Seven suggested we try talking," Annika said. She shook her head somewhat helplessly. "But first, we're supposed to hold onto each other. She said the rest would take of itself."

"Janeway said the same thing." Johnson stood up and reached out, offering her hand.

Hansen swallowed hard, then accepted it, getting up from her chair. Together they moved over to the couch where it took only seconds for them to arrange themselves into a comfortable position, Hansen cradling Johnson in her arms. A word from Johnson lowered the illumination, providing a sort of coziness to the quarters, and for long moments, they remained where they were, getting used to the sensation of each other's bodies again. More importantly, they allowed the physical contact close some of the distance they felt between them, the silence stretching into one of serenity rather than trepidation. It was not easy for either of the strong willed women who were more apt to take control of a situation that allow it to unfold naturally, and both had to force themselves not to disturb this fragile peace that was slowly forming. They concentrated very hard on heartbeats and respiration, letting go of their emotional turmoil for the time being.

"I like this," Annika admitted finally, softly, letting her lips brush over the auburn hair. "I miss this. You don't let me just hold you very often."

"I know," Johnson said apologetically. "I ... it's hard for me to be vulnerable with another person, even someone I truly love. Can you understand that?" She leaned in and kissed the soft skin of Annika's neck. "I didn't realize I was being so neglectful," she said, remembering Janeway's suggestion. "I ... don't mean to make you feel like you don't matter. You do, more than anything."

"Then why does every last thing come before me?" Hansen asked shakily, tightening her grip around Johnson. She tried not to sound accusing but rather, questioning, a request for information. She didn't know if she succeeded. "You have no idea how much it hurts to sit here waiting for hours for you only to have you brush my feelings off by saying it's captain's business."

"Being a captain is a great responsibility," Johnson defended before catching herself. She inhaled slowly. "But you are right, there's no excuse for ignoring you or your feelings."

Surprised by the admission, Annika tilted Kathryn's head back so she could look into the soft grey eyes. "I know it's hard for you, Kathryn, but please let me in," she whispered, her fingers gently stroking the auburn hair. She searched for something to say, some way to bridge this distance between them. "I used to follow you to the caves and watch you." She swallowed. "You looked so lost, so lonely, and all I wanted to do was wrap my arms around you just like this."

Johnson allowed a small smile. "I wish I had known you were there. Many times I could have used just this."

"And if you knew I was following you, would you have let hold you? Or would you have just stuffed it deeper inside and found a new hiding place?"

"The latter, I believe," Johnson admitted. "I've always been a private person, Annika. I've never learned how to let anyone in, not really." She sighed. "I guess in many ways I'm just like my father, putting my career ahead of my personal life. I used work to keep Mark at bay and I'm using it to keep you away, as well." She took a deep breath, taking comfort in the scientist's gentle touch. "I don't want to do that anymore. I don't want to lose you, Annika. I can't." She wished she could speak to her lover the way Janeway apparently could to Seven, confiding all her doubts and fears, talking about the feelings that kept her up at night. "Please help me," she whispered.

"How?" Annika implored. "I don't know how to help you, Kathryn. I wish I did." She cupped Johnson's chin with her fingers. "I wish I was smart enough to figure out what it would take to make you understand that it's okay to be a woman instead of a captain around me."

"Janeway says when the cabin doors close, her rank doesn't count anymore," Johnson revealed. "She said that's where she can relax and just be herself, knowing Seven is there for her." She pulled back slightly and searched soft blue eyes. "I want that with you," she whispered. "I know I try to control everything with us and use my rank to justify it."

"You do," Annika said, her voice carefully devoid of any anger. "Especially lately. It hurt and I resented it. When we were on Mars you would ask me for my input on a problem. We worked together to find a solution. Now you make me feel like a child who has to follow your bidding just because you're the captain. I kept forgiving you, thinking that when the mission was done or when we made it back to Earth that things would be like they were when we first became involved, but to me it seemed like you just took my forgiveness as an excuse to go ahead and do it again."

Johnson lifted her fingers and traced full lips. "I know that now. I am sorry and it's a mistake that I'll probably make again, but even if I don't deserve it, I need your patience and understanding."

"You do deserve it and you'll always have it," Hansen vowed. "I want us to be partners, Kathryn, not just two women who make love once in a while. I want ... I need more than that from you."

"You have to tell me what's going on too," Johnson said quietly. "I can't read your mind." She smiled. "Janeway says that Seven just assumed from the beginning that Kathryn was an imperfect, fallible Human who required precise instructions about everything, all the time. It used to drive my counterpart crazy, but because of it, both of them learned not to hold anything back. Seven just didn't have ... uh, the conditioning the rest of us do to hide our feelings."

"You and I were never very good at communication, were we?" Annika said ruefully.

"No, not very." She looked up into Hansen's eyes. "But I want that to change, Annika. I'm going to make mistakes, but I want us to be more open with each other."

"How do we start?"

"I think we already have," Johnson said, resting her head against Hansen's chest and delighting in the warmth and steady beat. "Do you want to talk about what's going on with you and your parents? I know I wasn't willing to listen before, but I am now."

Annika sighed. "You know, I don't want to because I think it's getting off us, but maybe we'd better," she admitted. "It might have a big effect on what happens in the near future. You see, they met with Seven yesterday afternoon. She told me about it this morning when we were ... when we were working on repairs."

There was so many things that needed to be repaired that Johnson did not question the excuse. "So how did it go?"

"Seven seemed to think it was a positive meeting. She said she found them to be intelligent, caring and very Human."

"Very, huh?" Kathryn allowed a small smile at that.

"Yes," Hansen said. "Count on Seven to find the good in everyone." She paused, idly stoking the soft auburn hair. "They've invited Seven back for dinner tonight."

"How do you feel about that?" Johnson asked, remembering more of her double's suggestions to open the lines of communication.

Annika shrugged. "I don't know. She was able to get through a couple of hours with them so I guess she'll be fine. Besides, Janeway will be there with her."

Kathryn picked her head up to look in her lover's eyes. "Your parents are having dinner with Seven and Janeway? I bet Janeway doesn't know about this."

"Seven hadn't had a chance to tell her when I ran into her," Annika said idly. "I'm just having a hard time believing that my parents are willing to sit down at the dinner table with any high-ranking Starfleet officer."

"I wouldn't get your hopes up that Janeway will actually go. In-laws are tricky to deal with, especially if they're anti-Starfleet and you happen to be a starship captain."

Annika regarded the older woman closely, her eyes searching her face.

"What if they invited you?" she asked softly. "Would you go?"

Johnson lowered her head, seeking the comfort of the physicist's neck. "If it would make you happy," she said, privately hoping such a thing would never come to pass. She had enough trouble dealing with her own mother, much less Erin Hansen, who despised just about everything Kathryn stood for.

"Good," Annika said, kissing the top of Johnson's head. "Dad invited us both over for dinner tomorrow night. I'll send a memo accepting for us."

"Oh god," Johnson said, feeling as if she'd been completely blind-sided, which in fact, she had.

"Oh, by the way, Seven and I were also talking about the war this morning, and she said something that I thought was quite interesting," Annika said, suspecting a change in subject might be a good idea, if the blank expression on Johnson's face was anything to go by. "What if we utilized the altered nanoprobes against the Dominion without modifying their quantum signature? That would turn all their equipment into junk."

Johnson's eyes widened. "What?" she exclaimed, then had to forcibly calm herself, her voice taking on an edge that the other woman wasn't entirely familiar with. "How would we make them work without turning our equipment into 'junk'?" she asked, carefully probing to find out if Annika had been informed of the communiqué.

Hansen shrugged. "Simple, we make copies of the other Voyager's replicator patterns for their rifles and weapons array, maintaining their quantum signature, then replicate them in our universe."

Johnson swallowed hard. "Just like that?"

"Why not?" Annika asked innocently.

"Why not, indeed," Johnson said, looking dazed. "Um ... I'm sure that would be of great use to Starfleet and the Federation. Put the entire science team on it if you need to."

"Don't have to," Annika informed her casually. "Seven and I worked out all the bugs this morning. All I have to do is start including the modifications into the repairs and send the specs to Starfleet Command as soon as we get back."

Johnson had, in the past, many opportunities to be overwhelmed by the young woman's innate brilliance, and she suspected that two Annikas put together were the most formidable brain trust imaginable, greater even than the special group of Humans who had been genetically altered through illegal accelerated critical neural pathway formation. This was yet another example and she closed her eyes, feeling overwhelmed at being exposed to such demonstrations of intelligence. Still, it would be unwise to display it too openly. She knew Annika was very sensitive to appearing 'different', so the captain did her best to take it in stride.

"Problem solved then," she said with studied casualness. She paused. "I wish all our problems were solved so easily." Never letting on that it was entirely possible that her lover had just won a war for the Federation.

"Emotion is a lot harder for me," Annika admitted, resting her chin on Johnson's head. "It always has been."

"For me, as well," Johnson said, voice growing unsteady as they were abruptly back on the topic. She paused, then seemed to make some kind of an internal decision. "I ... put things behind doors, Annika. So I don't have to think of them when the tough decisions have to be made ... when I have to be the captain. Sometimes it seems like I lose the key and can't get some of those doors back open again afterward."

Annika closed her eyes, fighting back the tears. Never had she witnessed her companion try so hard to explain what she was feeling.

"Maybe," she said huskily, "you just have to let me help you look for the key ... or help knock those doors down." The blonde drew back so that she was looking into the greyish eyes. "Kathryn, I know that you have to be captain. I just want..." She searched for the words. "I just want to be part of it somehow. It seems that when you keep me outside the command aspect, you end up keeping me out of the rest of your life, too."

Johnson opened her mouth to respond, hesitated, then closed it, but her expression was very troubled.

"I know," Annika said, frustration edging her tones as she tried to explain. "I don't mean that I would presume to know what it means to be a captain." She took a breath, trying it from another angle. "Seven doesn't give a damn about being in command of Voyager. As far as she's concerned, whatever Janeway does is fine with her. Yet, at the same time, she directly influences how Janeway commands, simply by being a part of her life. She told me that it was a great responsibility, and part of upholding it was to tell Janeway exactly what she thought whenever asked about a command situation, holding nothing back. Not all of it would be accurate or applicable or even relevant, nor does Janeway necessarily take into account everything she says, but it is Seven's belief that her duty to the captain is to offer her opinion, even when it is not that flattering to what Janeway had been doing up until that point. In fact, she told me that she is the one person on Voyager who can tell Janeway when she is going about things incorrectly. She never ever does it in public, and once Janeway makes a command decision, even if she still disagrees with it, she supports it completely. She trusts that Janeway is a good enough captain to make the right decision when it has to be made."

She swallowed hard. "I don't know how good I would be at offering my opinion to you," she said. "I'd probably be a lot more emotional in presenting it than Seven is, but I would do my best, Kathryn. But what you need to do is to respect me enough to ask in the first place. It's not that I want to tell you how to be a captain. That's not what I'm saying, at all. But I do want to feel that, as long as I'm serving on your ship, I'm considered capable of contributing to you as captain. Afterward, I swear I'll support you completely. But don't cut me out of the process you have in how you command, then get upset when I don't agree with it after the fact."

Johnson continued to look troubled, sitting up and putting some distance between her and the scientist. Annika forced herself not to react negatively to that, knowing that this concept was something she had to present as dispassionately as possible because it went to the very heart of what Johnson was.

"You know, Janeway said something that sounded sort of the same," Johnson allowed finally. She shook her head. "I feel like everyone else is getting this while I'm just flailing away in the dark." She fell silent again, her eyes lost in thought and Annika put a tight rein on her impatience, hoping that the older woman could work it out.

Keep quiet, she told herself firmly. Don't rush in with more words now, more emotion, trying to hammer it home. That will only make her feel on the defensive. Give her the time and space to figure it out.

Finally, Annika had a glimmering of what 'giving someone space' really was. It didn't mean removing her physical presence from her lover, and it certainly didn't mean refusing to talk to her at all. It meant granting her the peace to think about things, yet letting her know at the same time that she was there to listen while she worked it out. It was a revelation she hadn't expected, yet even as she considered it, she was aware that the silence between her and Johnson was comfortable, not strained ... merely the understanding that they both needed to think for the moment.

"Maybe ... maybe I just try to separate the parts of my life too much," Johnson offered finally. "I have a section for being captain, and a section for being a woman, and a section for being a daughter and a section for being a friend and so on."

For Johnson, who had never claimed to be the most introspective of people, this was a revelation indeed and Annika felt a sense of relief. She was even more pleased when it turned out the captain wasn't completely done.

"But all those things are interconnected in ways that maybe I haven't thought about before. What happens in one has to affect the other, but rather than recognize that and find a way to make them all work together, I tried even harder to push them apart." She glanced over at the young woman, her eyes soft. "I guess that means I tried pushing you away, too, not just personally, but professionally as well. I'm sorry."

Annika nodded briefly, not entirely trusting herself to speak yet. When she finally did, it was to try to offer her own perspective. "I think maybe I felt that in some way," she said. "So I started resenting those parts of you I wasn't allowed to touch, particularly the captain aspect." She paused. "And that's the last thing I should be resenting because being the captain is very much who you are. That's why you seemed so adrift at the Mars facility, and why you are so sure of yourself here on Voyager. In the meantime, perhaps I didn't do a particularly competent job of being a good science officer for you."

"You did a fine job," Johnson said sincerely, reaching over to take Annika's hand. "I'll grant that maybe you weren't the finest Starfleet officer ... but maybe what a Starfleet officer was before the war, isn't what one has to be now." She studied the hand cradled in her own, stroking the palm lightly with her fingertips which sent tingles up the young woman's arm. "God knows this vessel is operating with kids so green it's a wonder they don't produce chlorophyll, and people who retired from service before most of their crewmates were born. You'd think I'd be better adjusted to commanding such an eclectic crew after the Delta Quadrant."

"But you are," Annika pointed out. "After all, you still have your ship and most of your crew. There are a lot of captains right now that can't say that ... those who have survived, that is."

Johnson looked up. "Yes?" she said, her eyebrow raised. She thought about it. "Maybe you're right. Thank you." She said the last with great sincerity and Annika flushed, pleased. Perhaps she did have an influence over this woman after all, if her opinion meant that much.

She discovered that Johnson was regarding her with a very familiar expression, and she smiled. The captain returned her smile.

"You're exceptionally beautiful," she said quietly. "Particularly in that dress."

"Thank you," Annika said. "But maybe I wore it too soon." Her voice lowered. "After all, I would love for you to take it off me, right now, and we both know that's not going to happen. Pulaski warned me that you wouldn't be in any shape for anything ... uh, really physical for another day or so."

Johnson looked regretful. "She told me the same thing," she said. She wiggled, obviously testing that restriction, wincing as a particularly tender spot let itself be felt. "Unfortunately, I think she was right." She offered her companion a sheepish smile. "So what do we do?"

Annika shrugged. "Maybe we should just snuggle up together," she suggested. "We haven't had a lot of chances to do that in the time we've been lovers."

Johnson nodded. "You're right, we haven't," she admitted. She tilted her head. "I'm game if you are."

"Come here," Annika invited, and once more they arranged themselves on the couch, Annika leaning back against the corner cushions as Johnson leaned against her. A word to the computer initiated a selection of soft music, and for the rest of the afternoon, they learned what it was like to spend time just being together.

Janeway entered her quarters, hoping for nothing more than a good meal, a nice long soak in the tub, and a certain astrometrics officer to cuddle up with in bed. She was therefore quite surprised to see no food being prepared and Seven dressed in a delicate sapphire dress that, while it did not cling as much as the Borg's biometric suits, certainly showed off her wife's most becoming curves. She stared with mingled astonishment and appreciation as Seven crossed the room to give her a welcome home kiss.

"You look ... beautiful," she said when the Borg released her from the gentle kiss.

"Thank you," Seven said. "Now you must go shower and change. You smell like conduit fluid."

"I was helping B'Elanna and Commander Scott replace some damaged gel packs after helping Johnson back to her quarters from Sickbay," Janeway said by explanation. "What's the occasion that we need to be dressed up?"

"We have been invited to dinner by the Hansens and are expected there at 1900 hours."

"Oh." Dinner with the Hansens? "Darling, are you sure they invited us and not just you?"

"Erin Hansen invited you as well," Seven said. "She said that since we are married that you should also come to dinner."

"Oh." At the moment, intelligent conversation seemed to escape the captain. "I, um ... guess I'd better get ready then."

"I thought perhaps we could bring a bottle of wine from Ginse with us? It is light and goes with a variety of foods."

Janeway, still in shock, merely nodded and headed for the ensuite, returning some minutes later in a clean uniform.

"You are not going to wear that," Seven said disapprovingly.

"But..."

"Your navy dress would be more appropriate."

Janeway wanted to argue the point that she would be far more comfortable wearing her uniform, but knew from the look in her wife's eyes that it would not be an option. It was probably just as well, she consoled herself as she returned to the bedroom and changed her clothes. As rabid as the Hansens were regarding Starfleet, perhaps showing up with four pips would not be the most prudent of ideas.

As she tried once again to make her hair look acceptable, Janeway wondered why there was never a good red alert when she needed one. Not too much, of course, just a dozen Kazon or Hirogen vessels would do ... maybe a Borg cube or two. Resigning herself to her fate, Janeway stepped out the bedroom, waited for Seven's approval of her appearance, then followed her wife meekly to the transporter room, where, within minutes, she would be on Voyager II and facing the alternate universe equivalent of her in-laws.

Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how one looked at it, no red alerts were called, and Janeway found herself nervously walking down the corridor of deck nine, section four with Seven by her side.

"This is the Hansen's quarters," Seven said as they came to a stop in front of the door. "Kathryn, what is wrong?"

"Wrong? Nothing's wrong. Why do you ask?" Janeway said as she smoothed out imaginary wrinkles in her dress.

"Because your eyes are gray, you are exhibiting nervous behavior and your expression is more appropriate for an armed rescue mission than dinner with my ... counterpart's parents."

Janeway wisely did not point out Seven's verbal pause or the possible reasons behind it, but she did make the effort to look more relaxed, succeeding only marginally.

Seven took a deep breath and put the hand not holding the wine bottle on her wife's elbow, squeezing gently. "It will be all right," she assured. "You have not been so nervous since our wedding."

"In-laws, counterparts or not, will always make a person nervous," Janeway said, taking the bottle from the Borg and holding it with a grip strong enough to make her knuckles white.

"I will protect you," Seven said, placing a soft kiss on Janeway's forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too, darling," Kathryn said. Taking a deep breath to steel herself, she nodded and watched Seven press the door chime.

The door slid open, revealing Erin Hansen. "Hello again, Seven," the scientist said, favoring the Borg with a smile. The smile went from honest to forced when it reached Janeway. "Captain," the older woman said with the barest of nods, the ingrained disrespect coloring the tone, but clearly an effort was made to temper it.

"Please, call me Kathryn," Janeway said, holding out the bottle. "We thought this might go well with dinner."

"Thank you. Please come in." Erin said as she moved aside to let them enter.

That went well, Janeway thought, looking on the bright side. At least she didn't call me an imperialistic Starfleet war dog.

It took an effort of will not to let her command mask slip into place as they moved to the living area where Magnus stood, holding his arms out for a hug which Seven accepted. Janeway was not surprised when he gave her the same tolerant acceptance that his wife had only a minute earlier.

"Captain Johnson."

"Actually it's Janeway but please, call me Kathryn." She held her hand out, relieved when he took it in a firm, but pleasant shake.

"Janeway?"

The captain tilted her head. "In your reality, my counterpart returned to the Alpha Quadrant long before I did," she said. "And married the man I had been engaged to prior to being lost. In my reality, I received a communication from him a year later indicating that he had married someone else." She noted the glance exchanged between the couple and stifled a sigh. She knew she was talking too much, but couldn't seem to stop. "In truth, I couldn't be happier about it. Once that last personal tie to my old life was gone, I was able to consider ... other options," she concluded lamely.

She shot a look at Seven who returned it fondly, making it clear just what those other 'options' included.

"I see," Erin said. She motioned for them to take a seat on the sofa which Janeway and Seven did, sitting close together. Janeway was grateful for the long, length of her partner pressing warmly against her side, needing the comfort implicit within it. Erin sat the chair while her husband perched on the arm beside her, putting his arm around her shoulders.

There was a bit of an awkward pause, one Janeway really didn't know how to break. Most of her diplomatic training seemed to have abandoned her and she found herself clutching at Seven, hoping it was unnoticeable to the other couple. Seven seemed to detect her panic and reached over, gently taking her hand in her own, the Borg mesh a definite comfort to the Starfleet captain who squeezed it tightly, unmindful of the metal digging into her skin.

"Kathryn and I have been discussing the Dominion war," Seven said, without preamble, seemingly oblivious to the astounded look her partner cast her way. "In our reality, it has been won by the Federation. In yours, it appears to be intensifying, and not to the benefit of the Alpha Quadrant."

"Is military maneuvering a regular topic of conversation between you?" Magnus asked with deceptive mildness.

Janeway eyed him, suddenly aware of him being a little more dangerous than his wife. Erin was openly disdainful while Magnus covered his up with obfuscation. That made him appear more approachable than his wife, yet, Janeway knew without a doubt, that he would actually be harder to reach than his spouse.

Seven tilted her head, offering him her bland expression. "Tactics and strategy are an element of our everyday life," she explained with that devastating matter-of-factness. "Certainly, it is a knowledge that I can offer her after having been a member of the Collective, and fortunately, I have the military planning of over ten thousand species to draw upon, which enable our ship to travel with far more safety through the Delta Quadrant."

The couple blinked, surprised. Obviously they had been thinking of it as Janeway coaching the young woman in military strategy, rather than the other way around.

"Safety, of course, is of primary importance to us," Seven went on, as if she didn't notice the couple's bemusement. "Our vessel has many children on board. It is imperative that we protect them before all else."

Janeway winced internally, wondering if that was a needle that her partner needed to stick in or if Seven even realized what the impact of that last statement might be.

"I see," Erin said with apparent difficulty. Apparently the impact was that of guilt, Janeway thought to herself. Maybe Seven knew what she was doing, after all.

"I thought it was the Galaxy-class starships that carried children," Magnus said.

"They do, but being lost in the Delta Quadrant for so long turned our Voyager into a generational ship," the captain said, not wanting to go into detail about the B'Rethna and the virus which rendered the reproductive control devices inoperative.

"We are waiting until we return to the Alpha Quadrant to have our own children," Seven said. She paused. "I am grateful that, in our reality, the Federation and Starfleet won the war so decisively. I would not wish to have my children face existence under the Dominion. I anticipate offering the entire store of information I accumulated as a Borg in order to aid Starfleet in the future protection of their civilians. It will be my duty ... indeed, my responsibility ... as a fully functioning member of that society."

Janeway forced herself not to gape stupidly at her partner, wondering when the Borg had acquired this skill of pounding a point home without actually making it seem like she was doing such a thing. It had to be the lack of overt voice inflection and primarily impassive features, she decided. The Hansens took the young woman's words at face value, seeming to flinch involuntarily at each one, but never once suspecting her of having an ulterior motive behind them.

Thank god she's on our side, she thought fervently. But it was entirely possible that Seven was being too intent on driving the point home, and a diverting of attention might be in order. Keep the Hansens off balance, as it were.

"Annika will make a wonderful mother," Janeway said, wondering why no one else seemed to be affected by the heat of the room. "We have an Irish Setter named Jake and she has him trained wonderfully."

"He is much easier to train than Kathryn," Seven said, drawing first a startled look from the trio, then a short burst of laughter from the Hansens. The Borg smiled, clearly understanding that the joke was needed to ease some of the tension.

"I'm sure he is," Erin said, relaxing slightly against the supportive arm around her. "Being stubborn seems to be a trait of Starfleet."

"Actually it's a requirement," Janeway said smoothly, ignoring the tone of Mrs. Hansen's voice.

"Perhaps we should sit down for dinner now," Magnus suggested, much to everyone's agreement since full mouths would not have to speak and possibly be the spark to set off the plasma charging the room.

Seven and Kathryn sat opposite each other at the round table. While Janeway appreciated being able to see her wife, it also meant that Magnus and Erin were sitting on either side of her. Nothing like being flanked from both sides, she thought wryly.

"It smells wonderful," she offered, accepting the slight nod from Erin.

"I understand Seven does most of the cooking for you?" the older woman said.

"It is far more efficient if Kathryn does not help," the Borg said easily, answering for the captain before Janeway could even open her mouth. Apparently, she was quite determined to protect her spouse, just as she had promised in the corridor. "And I find the challenge of culinary creations to be quite rewarding and relaxing."

"Cooking is just one of her many talents," Janeway added gamely, pleased when she saw the soft smile directed at her by Seven.

"Yes, she is a very special girl," Magnus said. "So, assuming the war is over by the time you return to your Alpha Quadrant, what are your plans?"

Pausing, the fork halfway to her mouth, Janeway dared to look into his eyes, seeing the deeper meaning behind the inquisitive expression. "Our plans are to go to Indiana and stay with my mother for a brief time until we can arrange to have our home built."

"You have no home of your own?"

"I did in San Francisco, but I'm sure the family got rid of it when Voyager was declared officially lost." Janeway brought the fork to her mouth and chewed slowly, buying herself some time to formulate her thoughts. "It's just as well, I suppose," she said. "I want our children to be raised in Indiana like I was, surrounded by the earth and sky with an endless yard to play in. Many people living in the agricultural community there have children, so ours will have friends to play with."

"I see," Erin said. "You intend to leave Seven out in the middle of a Traditionalist state, pregnant and dealing with your children, while you go off on your starship."

Janeway, whose mouth was full, could only shake her head at the assumption.

"That is incorrect," Seven said, staring at the elder Hansen as if she were completely foolish. In fact, it was rather like the look she accorded Harry Kim or Tom Paris on occasion, and Janeway, known for the power of her own looks, was rather impressed. "I cannot become pregnant and Kathryn will require my presence while she is bearing our children. It would be irresponsible for me to leave her alone at such a time, and after our children are born, we shall go with her, whenever she has ship duty."

Janeway watched the play of emotions on the faces of the Hansens. Wisely, neither of them chose to ask why Seven was unable to bear children. The captain wondered if they were starting to get the idea who really ran things in the marriage. Certainly, it had been a hard enough lesson for her to learn in the past year.

"I don't intend to be the kind of parent that leaves my family behind," she said mildly. "I love Annika and I married her because I want to spend the rest of my life with her, not because I needed someone to make dinner or raise a family."

"It takes a great deal of pull to obtain property in an agricultural park," Magnus said, eyeing her oddly. "Earth's government is very hesitant about allowing too much expansion on such designated land." He said it with such conviction that Janeway wondered if he was speaking from some kind of experience. Perhaps he had tried to acquire such permission at some point?

"I guess it's a good thing I was born there," Janeway countered smoothly. "Natives always have preference when settling, and truthfully, the plots cut from the family property had already been arranged by my father for both my sister and me before he died."

"How many children do you plan to have?" he asked. Janeway hadn't felt so badgered since the time she had been questioned by Cardassians during a botched surveillance mission several years ago.

"Two," she replied.

"Of each," Seven piped up.

Janeway swallowed hard. "We haven't completely decided that yet." She noted Erin looked positively aghast at the thought of bearing four children. "Doctor?"

"Darling?" Magnus asked, reaching across the table for his wife's hand. Erin gave a small smile and looked at Seven.

"Have you ever seen a woman giving birth?" she asked the Borg.

"Yes," Seven replied placidly, apparently oblivious of the edge in the woman's tone. "Kathryn and I were trapped on the turbolift with Megan Delaney when she gave birth to her son."

"Do you really wish to put Kathryn through that four times?"

"Certainly not," the young woman replied. She paused. "She shall have two sets of twins."

"Oh god," Janeway said, reaching for her wine glass. Erin shot her a look, but to the captain's surprise, it held no disdain or reproach, but what actually looked like sympathy.

"Well, as Kathryn said, you still have to talk about it some more."

"You had only one child," Seven noted, finally understanding that there was some objection here. "You feel that four children are too many." She thought about it for a moment. "Naomi is six years old. She has no one her own age to play with. The nine babies will always have someone their own age to be a companion. I believe I do not wish for my child to be ... lonely. I believe Kathryn benefitted by having her younger sister around when she was growing up."

"I see," Erin said. "But then two would suffice."

Seven raised an eyebrow. "I would prefer eight," she explained blandly. "I am resigned to four."

Janeway drained the rest of her wine and mutely held her glass out to Magnus who, just as wordlessly, filled it to the brim.

The conversation for the rest of dinner was kept to more uncomplicated topics, changing it immediately whenever anyone got too close to things they really shouldn't discuss at this particular juncture. Still, Janeway was relieved when the main course finally ended and she helped Erin clear the table and serve dessert. Seven favored her with an approving glance, and the captain wondered how much longer the evening was supposed to last. If she had known ahead of time what was going on, she would have prepared a failsafe with Chakotay or Tuvok; a scheduled call back to her ship where she was 'urgently needed'. She frowned as she carried the saucers of cheesecake back to the table. It wasn't like Seven to spring things on her unannounced ... not things like this. She shot a look at her partner who seemed totally oblivious to the captain's sudden suspicion.

"Seven," Magnus said, gesturing toward the other side of the room where two workstations were situated, "I've been working on some of the Borg cranial transmission integers for years, but the equations keep giving me a fatal loop error. Would you care to take a look at it while we have dessert?"

"Of course," Seven said. "I would be most interested."

"Good." He smiled and rose from his chair, taking his saucer of cheesecake with him. "I have everything right over here."

Janeway looked uneasily at her spouse as the Borg left the dinner table, bearing her own dessert as she went across the room with Magnus. That left the captain alone with Erin, and she was very conscious suddenly of what that might portend.

"So," the older woman said, not wasting any time. "You're about twenty years older than Seven, aren't you?"

Janeway wondered how angry Seven would be if she chose that moment to run screaming from the room. Somehow, she doubted that her partner would be particularly impressed.

"Yes," she said carefully. "Fortunately, Seven doesn't hold it against me." She decided a good defense was best served by having a good offense and fixed the woman with a laser gaze. "Do you?"

That seemed to catch Erin off guard. "Uh ... perhaps it's not really my place..."

"You're right," Janeway said mildly. "It's not. But since you brought it up, what's your point? Do you think I'm somehow taking advantage of her?"

Erin recovered quickly. "Are you?" she returned the volley.

Janeway glanced over at the young Borg, a muscle jumping in her jaw. She wondered what would be the best approach to this. Honesty perhaps?

"I ... will say it's come up as a topic between us on a few occasions," she admitted. "Seven dismisses my irrational fears about it. She says that after spending eighteen years as a drone, with the experiences of over 10,000 species in her head, I actually lack enough life experience to match her." She smiled dryly. "The truth is, to harbor such thoughts disrespects her. It disrespects this incredible being that she is and will become. She has a wisdom that transcends her intellect, which, as you know, is formidable indeed. To suggest that she doesn't know what she wants, that she is somehow incapable of understanding what it means to love and be loved in return, would be an insult. Certainly, she has made it clear that she considers it as such." She shook her head. "I suppose you worry that Johnson is too old for Annika. Trust me, Annika's running circles around the woman."

It was a measure of her continued disconcertion in having to meet her in-laws that it took a few moments to realize what she had let slip. Aghast, Janeway watched the changing expression on Erin's face at her imprudent words, remembering, far too late, that the elder Hansens had no clue about their daughter's relationship with Johnson.

Or perhaps they did know because beyond a mild compressing of the scientist's lips, it wasn't as if she was exhibiting a whole lot of shock.

"We suspected as much," Erin revealed tightly. "And yes, it is part of my concern. But primarily I am worried that Annika is allowing herself to be pulled into Johnson's world, to the point where she's losing herself."

In for a penny, in for a pound, Janeway thought ruefully.

"Maybe she's actually finding herself," she offered. "Maybe falling in love has given a part of herself back to her that she never even knew was missing." She smiled fondly at Seven who chose that particular instant to glance up, her pale eyes warming perceptibly when they met Janeway's. She offered the captain a dazzling smile, then returned to her discussion with Magnus who was not unaware of the exchange, looking quizzically at Seven, then back to Janeway before refocusing on the Borg. "I know I did," the captain added fervently.

Erin had also witnessed the subtle exchange and it seemed her expression had softened slightly.

"I can see you truly love each other," she allowed grudgingly.

"Completely," Janeway said. "More importantly, we believe in each other. That's all we or anyone else needs."

"I'll admit we haven't taken the time to get to know Captain Johnson," Erin allowed, her eyes troubled and distant. "Magnus invited Annika and her for dinner tomorrow. I was surprised when they accepted."

"Maybe you should consider this a dry run," Janeway noted with a hint of humor.

Erin paused, looked at her, then dipped her head as humor colored her own eyes. "Perhaps I should," she allowed.

Their conversation stopped as Magnus and Seven approached with their empty plates. He set his down on the table. "I need to get something out of the bedroom," he said, looking directly at Janeway. "Captain, could you help me?"

"Um, yes, of course," she replied, rising to her feet and giving Seven a nervous look. No one could accuse any of the Hansens of being subtle, she thought dismally as she followed him. Sure enough, once the door to the bedroom closed, Magnus crossed to the far side and removed a large crystal off the shelf, his body language stiff and ominous. But when he started to speak, it was to approach the topic obliquely.

"We made a stop on Ryna III when Annika was four. She found this crystal near the mouth of a cave and was absolutely fascinated by the way the light refracted through it. Used to keep it on the table next to her bed." Janeway stared at his back, trying to devine his intentions from his words. He turned to face her, a bleak expression in his face, his gaze dark and intent, much as his daughter's counterpart could be when she was particularly serious about something. "I know that, technically, Seven isn't my daughter but that doesn't change how I feel about her. I love that young woman as much as if I raised her myself, and you can't imagine how it feels to know that in some universe I was selfish enough to allow my family to become assimilated by the Borg." His hand tightened on the crystal. "She's been through so much. I..." He faltered, dropping his eyes. "I guess I'm being the overprotective parent. I just don't want her to be hurt."

"Neither do I," Janeway said soberly. "Dr. Hansen, you have to understand that I love Seven with all my heart. I married her not just while we're in the Delta Quadrant, but forever. I would give up everything I have to be with her."

"Even Starfleet?" he challenged.

Janeway never missed a beat, nodding immediately. "Everything. Nothing is more important to me than being with her. I won't lie, Starfleet has been an important part of my life since I was very young and still is. I am proud to wear the uniform. But if Starfleet Command can't come up with a starship posting where she can be with me, then I'll either take an administrative position on Earth or resign my commission entirely. We will not be separated." She met his gaze, letting him see the sincerity in her eyes. He nodded and put the crystal back on the shelf.

"I never thought I would have a daughter-in-law," he said. "Now it looks like I might have two." He took a deep breath. "I can't say that I'm happy about you being in Starfleet."

She took a breath, a muscle jumping in her jaw. "I can't know what powers your distrust of Starfleet, nor certainly, could I ever expect to understand it, but I will ask you if you can be happy knowing that Seven is happy?" she asked. "And Annika?"

"I remember when she was born," he said, his eyes distant. "There she was, this little bald bundle of arms and legs wriggling about and looking at me with those big blue eyes of hers. All I ever wanted was for her to be happy." He sighed and looked at Janeway. "I guess if that means traveling throughout the galaxy with a Starfleet captain well ... I suppose there are worse things she could do." He took a step forward and gave what could only be described as a concerned father's glare. "But I will promise you this, do anything to hurt her and I won't care what universe you're in."

Janeway laughed, obviously surprising him. "I'm sorry, sir," she said, holding up her hand in apology. "My mother absolutely adores Seven, as does anyone else who gets the chance to truly know her, including my Klingon engineer. If I did anything to deliberately hurt her, what few pieces that might be left of me by the time Mom and Seven's friends got finished, would simply not be worth your time."

He frowned, seeming to consider that, then nodded grudgingly. "All right," he allowed.

"So," Janeway asked, glancing around. "What do you intend to 'show me'?" She raised an eyebrow, regarding him evenly. "I assure you, Seven will ask."

He looked momentarily baffled, then brightened as he seized a small item off the shelf. "Do you think she'd like this?" he asked, holding it out bashfully. "I picked it up in my travels, but Erin's never really liked it. It would make sense if I brought you in here to present you with a ... belated gift of some kind."

Janeway eyed it sardonically. It was one of the ugliest pieces of sculpture produced in the known universe ... maybe in all the universes.

"She'll adore it," she told him dryly, with complete honesty.

He looked pleased and handed it to her, much to her dismay. It gave her a headache just to look at it. Handling it was much worse, and she wondered what possible gene encoding provided such eclectic taste in artwork. Certainly, it was clear where Seven had acquired such a trait.

Holding it carefully away from her body, she followed the man out of the bedroom and forced a bright smile at her partner who was looking at her with the faintest of concern in her eyes. "Look, darling," she said, holding the squat sculpture out. "Dr. Hansen gave it to us as a belated anniversary present."

Seven's eyes lit up as she took it from the captain, examining it with every evidence of complete pleasure. Erin looked at her husband.

"Oh, Magnus," she muttered with exasperation, then shot a look at Janeway with what seemed sympathy. Janeway shrugged lightly.

"It will go with the rest of the ... 'artwork' Seven has collected for display in our quarters," she assured her, a tone of absolute resignation in her voice.

There was definite sympathy in Erin's gaze after that revelation.

Captain Johnson woke automatically two hours before the start of morning watch, pleased when her muscles seemed free of the soreness of the day before. She had slept well ... so well in fact, that she wondered how much of it had to do with being able to spend the afternoon with her lover, simply talking and being together. Certainly, it had been different to kiss Annika good-bye when the young woman returned to her own quarters  without the sense of recrimination and tension that so many of their partings recently seemed to include. Smiling faintly, she rolled out of bed and headed for the ensuite before remembering that she was still relieved of command. For a moment she froze, completely unsure of what to do, then wandered uncertainly out into the living area. To her surprise, there was a light on her work station, indicating a message. It was from her counterpart who looked very sober and a little weary, obviously having transmitted her message very late the night before.

"I've recommended that your command be restored and Dr. Pulaski has put it in place," Janeway said. "In fact, with a little fudging, it's not even going into the official logs though I really don't want to know how she managed that."

She hesitated, then looked very serious.

"I don't know if you managed to work anything out with Annika, but I hope to hell you have because believe me, you're not worth anything as a captain when you're not worth anything as a person. But at this point, it's probably out of my hands if it ever was something I could truly affect in any way. I'm going to grant you some space today. Lt. Torres will be in command of the repair teams."

She grinned crookedly.

"Seven and I have some things on our own ship that need our immediate attention, and unless you really need me over there, let's plan to get together tomorrow afternoon. By the way, good luck tonight with your future in-laws. I hope I softened them up for you. Welcome back, Captain."

Johnson stared at the image as it faded, then the sound of the admittance chime made her turn around. Annika was at the door, dressed in her science officer uniform.

"Hey," she said softly. "I heard you were back on duty so I thought I would stop by and have breakfast with you. I knew you'd be awake."

Johnson blinked. "That was ... thoughtful of you," she said. It was obvious that the young woman was trying very hard and she felt a warmth spread through her. She crossed the room and pulled Annika into her arms for a gentle kiss before motioning vaguely in the direction of the ensuite. "I need to shower and get dressed."

"Of course," Annika said. She grinned impishly and tightened her hold, refusing to let the captain out of her arms. "Have I ever told you how sexy you look in those Starfleet issue pyjamas?"

Johnson laughed. "I always feel five years old in them," she admitted. "The only thing missing is feet in them."

"That would be unbelievably adorable," the scientist noted before stealing one more kiss and releasing her hold. "Now you go get ready."

Johnson grinned and went to the ensuite where she showered quickly and pulled on a newly replicated uniform. She felt very complete as she fastened the tunic up the front, making sure the pips were firmly in place, before she returned to the living area. To her surprise, Annika had the table set while the amazing smell of breakfast permeated the room.

"You shouldn't start your day without a good meal," Annika said, a trifle self-consciously as she brought two plates containing western omelets, bacon, home fries and toast over to the table.

Astounded, Johnson sat down and began to tuck in, feeling suddenly ravenous. "This is terrific," she complimented, eyeing the woman sitting across from her. "When did you learn to cook?"

Annika grinned faintly. "Seven's been sharing a few tricks with me," she responded honestly. "It's not just a matter of preparing meals from raw ingredients, it's also about programming the replicator to add various spices and combining elements to create dishes beyond the standard matrix patterns. I may never be able to accomplish the first," she added, a slight warning in her tone, "but reprogramming a replicator is right up my alley. It's just going to take time for me to understand which additions need to go where." She raised an eyebrow. "I trust you won't mind acting as my test subject while I do."

Johnson offered her a smile. "I would love to," she said sincerely.

Annika snorted. "I'll remind you of that the first time it tastes like an old boot rather than what I was aiming for."

"Maybe mother---," Johnson began, stopped, then finished in a much gentler tone. "Maybe you could talk to Mom, sometime. She seems to have a knack for that sort of thing."

"I will," Annika replied, seeming not to notice the pause.

After breakfast, a bemused Johnson was assisted in the clean up by Annika before the scientist gave her a sweet kiss good-bye and headed off to help in engineering for the day. The captain had a great deal to think about as she took the turbolift to the bridge where her Commander Tuvok, showing a brief flash of Vulcanoid relief ... which was to say, practically none at all beyond a raised eyebrow ... welcomed her back to duty. The shift went by swiftly as Johnson caught up on all her tasks which had slid while she had been away, and she was fairly satisfied with her day's performance when she finally left the ready room. She had promised Pulaski that she would log off promptly at 1600 hours, and knowing that the CMO was more than prepared to utilize the prerogative of relieving her of command when required, she was keenly aware that there were certain promises she just had to keep.

She was startled to discover Annika waiting for her in the captain's quarters.

"I hope you don't mind?" Annika asked as Johnson entered uncertainly, blinking at the young woman who was dressed casually in a simple, yet elegant blouse and pants, looking good enough to eat herself. "I just wanted to be here when you got here. I thought we could spend some time together before we go to dinner with my parents."

"Not at all," the captain said honestly. "It's ... it's rather nice to find you waiting here for me."

Annika flashed her a smile. "I'm glad," she said. "Why don't you take a shower and relax a bit before dinner." She paused. "You may be required to act as a test subject sooner than you expected if they throw us out and we have to come back here to eat."

Johnson laughed, and did as she was asked, surprised at how it felt to slip out of her uniform ... almost as good as it had felt to put it on that morning. Was it possible that she was actually learning something here, despite herself? She carefully did not think about the upcoming dinner with the potential in-laws. One thing at a time, she reminded herself. What was really important here was Annika and she finding themselves. The rest would just have to work itself out.

Annika was waiting on the couch, two glasses of wine on the coffee table. Johnson, now in a simple dress pulled out from her closet which had not been worn in a long time, didn't hesitate in joining her. She graciously accepted the glass Annika handed her.

"To new beginnings," Annika said softly, raising her drink.

"And where they can lead," Johnson agreed, clinking the crystal wineglass gently against hers. She sipped the wine, pleased at its bouquet. Obviously it was not from the replicator.

"I, ah ... I really enjoyed yesterday," Johnson admitted.

"I did too," Annika said, regarding her quietly. "I think we should do more of that."

"I think so too," the captain said.

"Kathryn, I don't want to push too hard here," the scientist continued in a low voice. "Let me know if I do. I don't want to drive you away. I don't want to lose you." She paused. "I also know I have a short temper and I act like a spoiled child sometimes and I disappoint you when I argue with you in front of the crew, but tonight, I want you to know that I'm one hundred percent with you. We're a team and nothing, not even my parents, can defeat that."

She reached out for Kathryn's hand, holding it tightly, almost as if she were afraid that any second she would say the wrong thing and Johnson would shut down emotionally as she had done so many times before. The captain's heart ached as she realized how careful she had made Annika act around her, how that bright, outgoing personality had been stifled by her pulling away from it. What had she been so afraid of?

"I appreciate that, darling," she said huskily. "I'm not worried as long as you're with me." Annika nodded, looking relieved and Johnson squeezed her hand. "I promise. I will be on my absolute best behavior tonight."

"They'll adore you," Annika said, and Johnson laughed because the young woman didn't sound entirely convinced. Annika laughed as well, blushing faintly. "Maybe if we avoid the topics of Starfleet and the war as much as possible, that will help," she added ruefully.

"I'll do my best," Johnson said. "Perhaps we're worrying for nothing. After all, they invited us, remember?" She took a deep breath as her eyes moved over the walls, realizing how much Janeway had been correct in her assessment of her quarters, how bleak and impersonal they seemed. She placed her glass carefully on the table, tightening her hold of the young woman's hand, realizing she didn't want to put this off any longer. "Darling, can we talk about something else for a moment?"

"Of course," Annika responded.

"I want us to have a home, Annika," Johnson began. Remembering Janeway's words, the captain turned to look directly into the eyes that said so much about faith and trust and fear. "Live with me," she asked. "I want you to be the last thing I see before I go to sleep and the first thing I see when I wake up. I want to leave the Bridge at 1600 hours and know that I'm coming home to you every night. I want to sit on this couch with you after dinner and listen to how your day went and then lie in your arms and tell you mine." Johnson took a deep breath. "I know I'm probably not saying this right, and that god knows, I should have asked you long before now, but please Annika..." Tears welled up unbidden to her eyes but she fought the automatic response to wipe them away. "Stay with me."

"Shh," Hansen whispered, cupping Johnson's cheek with her palm and wiping away an errant tear with her thumb. "I will. I want to live with you, too. Nothing would make me happier."

Johnson swallowed, feeling much better than she had in far too long. "What about your parents?" she added, suddenly remembering what their immediate plans were. "They're bound to find out you're living in the captain's quarters. We'll have to tell them about us ... tonight."

"I know," Hansen said pensively. "I just wish it could be done via a deep space communication instead." She shook her head and then smiled, pale eyes searching the captain's face as she reached up to lay her fingertips lightly on Johnson's cheek. "Speaking of communications, thank you for the note you sent me in engineering today. Another tip from Janeway?"

"She merely pointed out that just because I'm constantly thinking of you doesn't mean you're aware of that," Johnson admitted bashfully. "I figured you would collapse to the floor if I started sending you flowers in engineering so a private note seemed best."

"I haven't given you flowers in a long time," Annika noted remorsefully.

"Mmm, well your reply was most thoughtful as well." She pulled Annika's hand to her lips and kissed the knuckles. "Was the poem a tip from Seven? I enjoyed finding it on my console in the ready room this morning."

"You have your sources, I have mine," Hansen said, revealing nothing and everything. "But it seemed to describe us perfectly and I'm glad you liked it."

"I love it," Johnson corrected. "And I love you, more than I could possibly show you."

Hansen grew quiet, her eyes serious as she looked at the person who held her fragile heart. "I don't feel very loved," she said in a quiet whisper, afraid of ruining the moment. "I haven't felt loved in a long time."

Johnson used her hands to cup Hansen's cheeks, bringing her face closer. "Then, what can I do, right here ... right now ... to show you how I feel?"

"Love me," Annika said, lightly trailing her fingertips over Johnson's collarbone. "Take me to your bed and make love to me."

Johnson's breath caught in her throat. "What about your parents?" Not giving a damn at all.

"They can wait," the scientist whispered. "Besides, we have plenty of time. I do know that if I'm going to tell them that you and I are more than just friends, I need to be properly fortified."

"As Seven would say, 'acceptable'," Johnson murmured, closing the distance between them and brushing her lips over Annika's. "I love you so much." She kissed her way along the scientist's jaw while her fingers worked the buttons on Hansen's blouse.

"W-wait," Annika gasped as the front catch of her bra was released, obviously just remembering the medical restrictions placed on the captain. "Should you be ... oh ... doing this?"

Johnson smiled and lowered her lips to the warm valley between her lover's breasts. "I feel fine," she insisted, ignoring the twinges and aches her body sent up in protest. Her tongue traced the soft swell until her lips could close over a long neglected nipple.

"Oh, god," Annika groaned, arching up into the loving touch. "Kathryn ... oh, my Kathryn."

"Yes," Johnson agreed, leaving the inviting breasts to reclaim her lover's mouth in a searing kiss. "Your Kathryn ... always," she promised when their lips parted. Standing, she held her hand out. "Come with me," she whispered.

"I certainly hope so," Hansen teased as she got to her feet. Kathryn pulled her close, burying her face into the soft skin of Annika's neck.

"I guarantee it," the captain said dryly, walking backwards as she tugged the more than willing scientist into the bedroom. Clothes carefully picked out for the upcoming dinner were urgently removed and carelessly tossed aside before the two women fell to the bed together, kissing fervently as their hands moved over each other, relearning the only bodies they ever wanted to touch. Johnson found herself lying on her back, six feet of stunning woman sliding atop her body. Raising her knee, Kathryn nudged the long legs to separate until she felt the hot moisture pressing against her upper thigh. She urged Hansen forward until her lips could reach the generous breasts, teasing the rosy nipples with her lips and tongue, flicking them lightly with a teasing tip, then covering them completely as she sucked them firmly.

"Oh yes," Annika hissed, using her arms to support herself as she undulated against the insistent thigh pressing against her most intimate spot. Johnson could only moan in happy agreement as she alternated breasts, giving each nipple loving attention, noting the increase of liquid bathing her leg as her lover rocked against her. Immediately, she wormed her hand between their bodies, moving past wiry curls until she reached Annika's crease. The position was not the best but she was able to reach the sensitive ridge, albeit barely. Her fingertip moved over the stiff little clitoris, fondling it in rhythm to the motion of Annika's hips and the young woman cried out, increasing her motion significantly. Within seconds, Johnson felt the younger woman tremble and cry out before collapsing on top of her. Johnson wrapped her arms around her lover and pulled her close, shifting so they were lying side by side.

"I love you," she said, brushing her lips over Annika's chin, smiling when she felt long insistent fingers slip between her legs. "You've recovered quickly," she noted, obligingly raising her knee to rest it on Annika's hip, opening herself up for her lover and moaning as she felt the loving touch.

"It's been over a month since you've let me love you," Hansen said mildly, her fingers finding the right spot and gently brushing back and forth against it, dabbling in the moisture she found there. "I've missed it.  And god knows I've missed you."

"I ... I didn't realize..." Johnson admitted, finding intelligent conversation hard in light of the wonderful things her lover was doing to her. "But you're right ... god ... Annika..." She allowed herself to be pushed onto her back and spread her legs invitingly. "Please. Now, darling ... it's been too long..."

"With pleasure," Annika replied, claiming Kathryn's mouth again at the same time she gently pushed two fingers deep inside her, her thumb pressing insistently against the outer ribbon of sensitive flesh. Johnson could only helplessly moan as her hips bucked hard against the firmly thrusting fingers, driving her higher and higher until finally she was there, crying out as her inner muscles clamped down and held her lover deep inside.

When she felt Annika gently withdrawing from her, Johnson was sure their lovemaking session was over until she felt her lover move between her legs and kiss her inner thighs. A fresh wave of pleasure shot through her as loving lips brushed over her triangle of auburn hair. "Annika," she whispered urgently, putting her hands on the scientist's head to guide her where she needed her to be. "We'll be late."

"Yes, Kathryn," Hansen agreed, before finding a much better use for her mouth.

Johnson groaned, feeling the light flicker of tongue over her sensitive spot, then lips covering it as the young woman suckled it gently. "Oh, god." The touch was so tender, so very loving, that she felt herself cast adrift on all the emotions that she had been keeping so rigidly under wraps for so long. Fingers moved into her again, filling her as they had such a short time earlier, pressing insistently within her. This climax came even quicker than the first, leaving her shaken and feeling as vulnerable as she had ever felt before. Tears leaked from beneath her closed lids and a sob escaped before she could stop it.

Annika gently kissed her way up her body and gathered her up in her arms, holding her tightly as Johnson let go completely, unable to control it at all, no matter how hard she tried.

"I'm here, Kathryn," Annika promised. "I'm always going to be here."

Johnson didn't answer, merely clung to Annika as she wept. It took quite a few minutes before she was able to retrieve the shards of her composure, knitting them back together with an effort.

She swallowed hard, her throat aching. "I'm not sure what that was," she admitted weakly.

"It was something you needed to do," Annika whispered, stroking Johnson's auburn hair slowly. "Please, don't ever be ashamed of that, Kathryn. Not with me."

Johnson shuddered, the lingering remains of the walls she had built so carefully over the years, crumbling to nothing. In doing so, it was as if a light had been allowed through, one that brought freshness and a renewed sense of being.

"Oh, my," she said finally, huddled in the comforting arms of her lover. "I don't think I needed to do it before going to dinner with your parents."

Annika chuckled. "Well, perhaps the timing could have been better." She hesitated, then nuzzled her. "We can always call and postpone the dinner," she suggested in a softer voice. "I'd much rather spend this time with you."

"I agree but..." Johnson shook her head. "It might not be the wisest idea," she said. She traced a path over Annika's chest with her fingertips, stroking the smooth skin lightly. "I think it took a great deal for them to invite me tonight," she added quietly. "We shouldn't overlook such an opportunity."

"Hmm, you're probably right," Annika allowed. She glanced down at her and their eyes met for a moment that seemed to last an eternity. "I love you, you know," she whispered, as if it were a new revelation to her.

"I know," Johnson responded, feeling very close to tears again. "I love you, too, my darling. I'm never letting you go ... not for anything."

Carefully, Annika kissed her, the captain's flavor strong on her lips. It did not deter Johnson in the slightest and she returned the kiss as deeply as she could.

"We need to get ready again," she murmured when they finally parted.

"Yes," Annika agreed. A smile curled her full lips. "Would you care to join me for a shower, Captain Johnson?"

"I believe I would, Lt. Hansen," Johnson muttered. "Lead the way."

Continued in Part IV