DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters
are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The story contents are the
creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2023 by Djinn. This story
is Rated R.
Love Language (Part 1)
by Djinn
1.
Him
You
wake, skin on fire, unsure where you are—or why you are. Didn't you die? You
remember the last thing you said to Hansen, giving her the ship—and her goddamn
Borg name.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuuck,"
you moan as your insides seem to do cartwheels of pain.
"Lie
still." It's Ohk. So you're still on the ship. But you died. You know you
died.
You
don't remember shit about being dead but you're damn well sure you were.
There's
the hiss of a hypospray, then another and another. Ohk's voice, frantic now,
saying, "Seven, something is really wrong."
"Put
him in stasis. Let me find someone who can help."
You
can hear her but not see her. "Hansen, so help me God—"
"Shut
up, sir." She's in view now, looking down at you with near panic in her
eyes, and you grab her arm and say, "What the fuck did you do,
Hansen?"
And
then the stasis field engages and you're sucked into unconsciousness.
Her
You're
in Ohk's office, punching in the code for the Doctor, having to redo it twice
because your hands are shaking.
He
doesn't pick up and it goes to voicemail. So you comm over and over again until
he finally does pick up. "Well, Seven, you are certainly insistent."
"I
know you're mad at me." Before he can say anything you hold up your hand.
"I don't want to discuss what we talked about the last time."
"Yes,
heaven forfend that we discuss our feelings."
"We'd
be discussing your feelings, not mine. Which is why you're mad. I need your
help. My captain was dead and I gave him nanoprobes."
"Rather
old ones."
"The
opposite actually. He's not doing well. I need your help."
He
sighs dramatically. "Where are you?"
"The
Titan."
"What
is his status right now?"
"He's
in stasis. Things are going—well, not like they did for Neelix. Please? He's a
good man and he died saving others. Saving all of us. You know about the Borg
threat?"
"Know?
I've been called into duty to help."
You
feel a sinking in your gut. Of course he has been. Can he even come?
"Don't
look that way. We're fully staffed now and they can do without me. I'll be
there shortly."
"Thank
you." You let him cut the connection—it's the least you can do since he's
doing you this favor.
When
he's really, really mad at you. Or hurt. Or both.
Fuck.
You've got your ex on the bridge and a wanna-be on the way. When did your life
get so goddamned messy?
Him
You
wake more slowly this time and the pain is half what it was the first time.
It's not Ohk's face looking down at you but a male you don't recognize.
"Please
don't move, Captain Shaw. We're getting you stabilized."
"What
the fuck did Hansen do to me?"
"Hansen?
Oh you mean Seven of Nine. Well, that's a little bit of a long story."
"Shorten
it for me."
"She
gave you Borg nanoprobes to bring you back to life."
You
don't know what to say to that. You were dead, then... "Am I...am
I...?" You can't even say it.
"Borg?
You are not. They're just very handy for making a dead person into a living
one." Something sounds off in his voice though.
"But...?"
"But
nothing. Just..." He looks away and you think Hansen is probably standing
out of sight.
You
make your voice the one she hates. "Get where I can see you,
Commander."
You
hear her sigh, then she walks to the other side of you, not hiding behind the
man, arms crossed over her chest. "Just get it over with, Shaw. It's been
so long since you last dressed me down I may go into withdrawals."
You
ignore her sarcasm. "What the ever loving fuck did you do?"
"I
saved you. You were a consequence I was not willing to pay."
"You
don't pay a consequence. Jesus."
"Fuck
you. Accept then. Is that the better word?"
"Yeah,
that works."
The
man is watching the two of you in what seems like bemused fascination—and maybe
some jealousy.
"Who
the fuck is this guy, Hansen?"
"I'm
the Emergency Medical Hologram from Voyager. I have experience with
nanoprobes."
"Are
they supposed to hurt this much?" The pain is coming back. "Fuck,
Hansen, why does nanoshit from you hurt so bad?" You reach for her hand
even though you've never done that before and she grabs it and holds on tight.
"Nanoprobes,"
she says gently.
"What
the fuck ever. God damn it, Seven."
"I
wondered if you were ever going to use that name. Or was saying it when you
were dying just a bone you were throwing?"
"Fuck
you."
"Fuck
you, too, Liam."
You
have to admit. Your name in her mouth sounds awfully damn good.
But that's just the meds talking, right?
"Yes,
well, as touching as this moment is...not, I'm going to have to give you a
sedative, Captain. And adjust your levels." He points to something and you
hear Ohk say, "Yeah, I was wondering about that."
"Does
Hansen even know what she's doing, injecting me with her nanowhatevers?"
"I
injected you, Liam." Ohk appears at your side, easing Hansen back.
"And no, I didn't. I took it on faith."
"Faith,
Doc? Fuck me. Just..." You hear multiple hisses—they're both working on
you and you close your eyes and go back to sleep.
Her
"We
need to talk," the Doctor says and motions both you and Ohk to her office.
Once you're safely out of earshot of Shaw, he says, "This is not the same
reaction we saw with Neelix. You said your nanoprobes are different? How
exactly?"
You
take a deep breath and look out at the biobed he's resting on. He looks so
peaceful—and agreeable—when he's sleeping.
"They're
actually only a couple of years old. And... they're from a different queen.
Sort of." Fuck—you'd rather keep this to yourself but if it's going to
hurt Shaw...
"Start
from the beginning," Ohk says gently.
"But
gist it."
"Fine.
Because of Q, when I was with Picard, we wound up in a timeline where I'd never
been assimilated. I was completely human. It was...well, it doesn't matter how
it was. We picked up the last remaining Borg, a queen. Then we time-travelled
to the past and she ended up being killed but not before merging with a
scientist on board who was...not entirely stable. They stabbed me during a
fight. Then they partially assimilated me to heal me—enough so I was old me
again with the same implants, which has never made sense to me if I wasn't
fully assimilated to begin with, so don't ask me how. It was more a Q reset
switch than anything, if you ask me. But basically the nanoprobes happened in
the twenty-first century which for me was only two years ago."
Both
doctors are staring at you with open mouths.
"Did
I not gist sufficiently? Or did I gist so much that some meaning was
lost?"
"Neither,"
the Doctor says. "None of that makes sense."
"It
doesn't have to make sense. It's the truth. When does anything fucking make
sense in my goddamned life?"
"Your
language, Seven..."
You
point at the biobed. "His fault."
Ohk
nods. "He can corrupt almost anyone."
"Not
you though," you say. "Why is that?"
"I'm
Trill. Well, and it's fun to resist."
"You
should have told me your blood was different from the start." He glares at
you as he scans you. "Or were you afraid I might think new blood would
mean a new attitude toward what I could offer?"
"You
do think that. You're thinking that right now."
"Thinking
what?" Ohk asks.
"Nothing,"
you and the Doctor say together.
He
walks away, out to the work area, mumbling about figuring out your new Borg
blood but not for personal reasons and how dare you even suggest that.
Ohk
is staring at you with a "Spill?" look.
"He's
in love with me. Has been for years. I didn't know that until—you know what? It
doesn't matter."
"It
clears a lot up though."
"I'm
not going to be in love with him—that's what pisses him off. Not that I wasn't
before, but that I won't give him a chance now that I'm older."
"I
understand," she says with a smile. "Do you want to tell him that
you're already in love with Captain Foulmouth out there or should I?"
"I
don't know that I am."
"Maybe
you don't but yeah, you are. And Liam for damn sure won't admit to himself or
anyone that he's gone on you. But I'm not blind, Commander." She pats your
arm and goes to check on Shaw.
Fuck.
Because your life needed more romantic complications?
2.
Him
You
wake again and this time only Hansen is sitting near you. "You should be
on the bridge."
"Raffi's
got the conn." She doesn't look up from the padd she's working on.
"Raffi
isn't even on this ship's crew."
"Nobody
is complaining so..." She finally glances your way and rolls her eyes.
"We're in space dock."
"Oh.
Well, that's sort of different."
"God
forbid you admit I did anything right."
"You
mean like bringing me back to life? Seriously? Oh, shit..." You feel
nauseated, and she seems to realize that because she grabs a bowl and helps you
lean over so you can throw up in it with relative dignity and low danger of
dying from drowning in your own vomit. "I gotta say, death might have been
preferable to this. And you don't have to stay. I can wrangle a barf bowl all
on my own."
She
sighs. "I do have to stay."
"Why?"
"Because
you need—at this stage of the process—daily infusions of nanoprobes. And it's
just about time for your next one."
"Well,
golly, I'll be assimilating folks in no fucking time at this rate. Thanks a
million, Commander."
"The
Borg are gone. Well, the traditional Borg. The Jurati Borg are just fine. And
that's the thing—I have their nanoprobes running around my, and now your,
system."
"Are
you trying to kill me again by raising my blood pressure little by
little?"
"The
Jurati are peaceful."
"Agnes
Jurati was a raving loon. You think I haven't read the reports?" By the
expression on her face, you can tell you probably didn't get all of the story.
"Fine, what does it mean for me that it's Jurati Borg nanoprobes and not
traditional?"
"Over
time, the Doctor found a way to stabilize nanoprobes in a system with only
these additional infusions for the first few days." She takes a deep
breath. "These new Jurati probes are a bit more difficult to manage. So
you're going to need months of infusions before you can be on your own."
"Months?
I need to be near you for months?"
She
nods.
"You
can't just donate blood and have an Earth physician shoot me up?"
"No,
it needs to be freshly drawn from me and because of the side effects, the way
your system is reacting, you need someone who knows what they're doing. The
Doctor will stay until he's sure Ohk has handled every type of emergency that
comes up."
"I'm
an emergency? Still?"
She
closes her eyes and nods.
"So,
I have to be on the ship?"
"Not
exactly. The ship is in for repairs. We took on a lot of damage and they want
to implement some new tech. We won't be going out for a while."
"Define
a while?"
"Nine
months to a year, depending on how well the first tests of the new engine
configurations work. They want you leading the team that's doing that, if it's
any consolation for being forced to stay close to me."
"It's
not." Actually it is, but you can't let her think she's getting away snark
free with this "Playing God" bullshit. Even if not being dead is
preferable to being dead, you didn't ask for this.
She
looks down. "Yeah, well, didn't think so. But you have to so..."
"I
don't have to. I could refuse the infusions and die."
Her
head whips back up. "I've expended a lot of professional capital ensuring
you can be on this ship past the refits, as a captain in engineering, if the
nanoprobes still haven't settled down by the time we launch. I would be pissed
as hell if you threw that all away and died just to be petty."
You
can't help it. You laugh because she's gotten her sarcasm up to master level
serving under you—also what she said was funny.
"Are
you laughing at me?"
"Little
bit. Mostly laughing with you."
"Good
because you don't need to be conscious for the duration of these infusions.
Stasis Shaw is actually so much more pleasant than you talking, and I'd expend
no professional capital if I just keep you unconscious and have your stasis
chamber moved around with me as excess baggage."
You
laugh again. It's a vivid image. She's always been able to do that, even before
you began to rub off on her in the swearing department. She's clever and quick
and you love verbally sparring with her.
Then
you realize what she really said. "Wait—they gave you the ship?" You
smile in a way she seems immediately suspicious of. "I'm happy for you.
Don't look so weird."
"Oh.
I'm just not used to it."
"No,
really, congratulations."
"Thank
you."
"No,
thank you"—you let your expression go back to snarky because serious you
is clearly throwing her—"for ensuring I spend the next few years serving
under you—can I expect retribution for all the shit I've given you?"
"We
reap what we sow, Shaw. But you're going to be in a job you love. You forgot
that part, you big baby."
"In
a job I love. You're not wrong about that." You study her: she looks
exhausted. "Is donating this much blood doing anything negative to
you?"
She
looks surprised you'd ask. "No. I'm fine."
"You
look like shit."
You
can see she is visibly counting to ten before answering. "I'm sorry I
didn't put on makeup for you. I've had my hands full. With the ship, with the
brass over what happened on this ship, with notifying next of kin, with the
Doctor trying to convince me we'd make magic together if I just give him a
chance, with Raffi up on the bridge wondering if we're getting back together
now that I've picked her for my first officer."
"You
realize that picking a first officer you have feelings for is the height of
stupidity, right?"
"Are
you speaking from experience?"
You
narrow your eyes. That didn't sound exactly like sarcasm. "I've never been
in love with a person I worked with when I picked them." Wow, you worded that
with way too many caveats—hopefully she's too tired to notice.
"I'm
not in love with her."
"But
if she's in love with you..."
"Everyone's
in fucking love with me or haven't you been paying attention?" She gets up
and starts to pace. Really fast.
"You're
making me dizzy. Sit the fuck down."
She
finally does. You wait to see if she will ask the logical follow-on to her
question—have you ever worked with someone you fell in love with on the job?
Because love can sneak up on you when you're trying like hell to make it mind
just one damn reg.
She
doesn't seem inclined to follow it up so you breathe a sigh of relief when she
stays put on the stool.
"Okay, good," you say. "So the
engine upgrades. Can you get me the details?"
She
walks to Ohk's office and comes out with several padds. "I figured you
would want these. I took a look. I'd like to be part of the refitting, if you
think you can swing that? A captain should understand her engines, right?"
You've
said that a million times, so for you to deny her would be pretty damn
hypocritical. "Right."
Her
smile is so self satisfied.
"Love
a good gotcha, don't you, Hansen?"
She
bristles at the name, just as you intended. But the anger doesn't extend to her
eyes anymore. Maybe because she knows you're doing it to irritate her, not
because you're hewing to the regs regarding names in the system. It's her
fucking ship now. She can call herself whatever the hell she wants and the ship
will respond to her. Captain's privilege.
You
check out her insignia. Still commander. "Did you not want to shock me
into a relapse when I realized they actually took my advice on promoting you or
did they not pin on your new pip yet?"
"The
latter. I was hoping..." She looks down and actually blushes.
"You
were hoping...?" You know what she's going to say but you want to hear her
say it. Want to know from her directly that she respects you enough to want it
to be you who transitions her to the next level, not one of her fucking
legends.
"That
you'd pin it on for me." She's not meeting your eyes.
"Look
at me if you're going to ask me that."
She
meets your eyes and there's such a mix of emotions in hers that you can barely
read her. Anger, sure. But also...is she afraid you'll say no?
"It
would be my honor. Will I be out of here by then?"
"If
not, I just won't do it till you are."
"That's
not how it works."
"It
is if I don't show up."
"Seven,
you can't not show up to your own promotion ceremony."
"Watch
me." She scooches the stool closer to the bed. "I really want you to
do it." She's staring at you in a way she never has before.
And
you really, really like it. "Okay, then."
"Okay,
then." She swallows hard and looks away.
You
take pity on her and give her something to do by saying, "I could use some
coffee. You probably could too."
"No,
I've been living on it. But I'll ask the Doctor if you can."
"You'll
ask the Doctor what?" sounds from behind you.
Jesus,
has he been listening to you two the whole time? Creepy, much?
"He
would like some coffee."
"He
can have water. Maybe apple juice or milk."
"Wow,
you're fun. Are you going to put it in a baby bottle for me?"
The
Doctor runs a scanner over you. "You'll thank me when you no longer get
caffeine headaches from the coffee."
"No,
I won't."
"He
really won't." She looks massively uncomfortable, but you think it's only
partly to do with you. She and this guy clearly have some weird ass history.
But you and she didn't have the kind of relationship where you shared past
histories unless it was mission critical information.
"He
can have decaf."
"I
don't fucking want decaf. I want a nice dark French Roast."
"No."
You've
never had someone say "No" to you the way you say it to everyone
else. It's pretty damned annoying.
You
yawn and the Doctor pats your shoulder and tells you to lie there with your
eyes closed and count to one hundred. "Maybe you can dream about coffee,
how's that?"
"Fuck
you."
"It's
nice to know you apply that charm to everyone and not just Seven."
"Just
count, Liam." Seven's voice is so soft—you could get used to that. And she
used your name again. You could really get used to that. "Fine."
You're
out before you hit twenty.
Her
You
follow the Doctor into Ohk's office, which is empty because she's gone to
dinner.
"So,
you neglected to mention why you brought your dead captain back." He has
his back to you, is studying some Trill art she's hung in a haphazardly
pleasing way.
"Meaning...?"
He
turns. "Meaning you have feelings for him."
You
close your eyes and for the second time today count to ten.
"I
taught you that. Such a handy coping mechanism. Mouthing the numbers, however,
gives it away."
"Fuck
you."
He
sighs. "That's not an actual response, just hostility. I came all this way
for you."
"Yes,
when you should have come all this way for him." You point to the biobed.
"I should not still be your favorite obsession."
"You
give me so little credit for having nuanced feelings."
"They're
not nuanced. They're tired. They're years too late. Where were you when I was
dying inside after losing Icheb? You wouldn't even return my calls. How nuanced
is that?"
He
looks down. "I thought you were calling about me helping you get into
Starfleet. I know Janeway tried."
"How
do you know that?"
"I
just do." He gives nothing away so you don't know if it was Kathryn who
told him or someone like Tom or Harry, both of whom have kept in better touch
with her than you have.
"Why
would I bother you about that? What could you do that she couldn't?" You
sit down in one of the guest chairs and sigh. "Do we have to do this
now?"
"It's
clear he doesn't yet realize you're in love with him. Excuse me for wanting to
shoot my shot before he does. I'm tired of being the one you never love."
"I
do love you. You ushered me into humanity. You and Kathryn both. You were like
my parents. I considered you a father figure. A father I loved being with.
Forgive me for not wanting to fuck my goddamned father."
"I
realize I was that to you. I let you go when it was clear you didn't see me as a
potential mate, I did not impose my feelings on you, and I was supportive when
you took up with Chakotay. But those days are over and we are no longer in
those roles. And we understand each other, Seven."
"No
we don't. Because I don't understand how you can keep pressing a person like
this. A person who has made it clear she doesn't want you that way. Who keeps
having to make it clear. Why the hell do you think I stay away from you? You
make me feel like it's my fault, like I'm doing something when I'm not. It's
not me, it's you."
"Seven,
I understand you at your deepest level."
"What's
my favorite side dish?"
He
looks confused.
"That
man knows. That man made sure it showed up on his table when we had our weekly
dinner meetings. What are my favorite flowers?"
"Roses."
"No."
And now that you think of it, Shaw often had your actual favorite flowers on
the table too. But they rotated the flowers so that might have just been
happenstance.
"How
do I like my steak?" And what fucking color should disgust you but
doesn't? "Bourbon—rocks or neat?"
"Those
are not your deepest levels, Seven."
"Those
are life. Those are what's left when you take off the Borg parts and the
captured as a child parts and the lost her parents part and the first lover was
only in her dreams part. When you let me be just a person on a ship going from
day to day. Those are the things that matter." You lean in. "Like how
my hair was supposed to be like this, wavy not stick straight the way you made
it. I learned that during my Rangers physical. They tweaked the genetic coding
you overwrote."
He
steps back. "Straight hair is preferred."
"By
whom?" You stand and take a step closer to him. "By. Whom?"
"Statistically,
women of your ethnicity have straight hair."
"Preferred.
By. Whom?" Your voice is rising, your anger too.
He
looks down. "I prefer it. And I thought it would be easier for you to work
with."
You
can detect no lie in that second sentence. He may not have just been being
selfish.
"I
like it this way. Wavy. And not because it's not what you chose, but because it
suits me."
He
meets you eyes. "Everything I have ever done for you has been to protect
you."
"I
know that you believe that. But I...I just can't be protected like you want to
anymore. I've seen too much. I've lived too much. Maybe, if you'd answered your
comms when I was truly broken, you could have picked all the pieces up and made
me whole—the Seven you wanted me to be. But you didn't and that moment is so
far in the past now. My future is on this ship. Yours is not. Not once we get
Liam's protocol's set."
"Liam.
The man is an ass, Seven. He will destroy you."
"No,
he won't. First because if I'm not destroyed yet, then nothing is going to get
that done. And second, because underneath the asshole, is the finest captain I
have ever served with. One of the smartest people I have ever known. Quick and
creative and not afraid to get his hands dirty. And sure, he's not free of
obsessions, but his are keeping his people and ship safe, not how to lock down
the affections of someone who just wants back a friendship she treasured."
"Hansen?"
you hear from the biobed.
"We
woke him. Congratulations."
He
doesn't look contrite. "It's time for his next dose. Go sit down with him
and I'll get the equipment ready."
"I
wish I could say that I'm sorry I can't be what you want, but..."
"But
you're not. Yes, I got the message." He shoos you out to the main sickbay
the way he used to on Voyager.
You
walk over to Liam who is staring up at you. "Think it's a good idea to
alienate the man keeping me alive?"
"No.
Sorry if that was unwelcome news. And that we woke you up."
"You
didn't. Pain did."
"Where?"
He
points to his head. As you scan him, he murmurs, "Those were really nice
things you said about me."
"Shut
up."
"For
the record, it's those crispy Brussels sprouts with bacon and nuts, tuberose,
medium well, which is why I only ever order you ribeye and you don't mind blue,
and you take all your whiskey neat—but you prefer it with ice, so really you
should just drink it that way. Now that you're captain, do that, okay?" He
laughs softly. "Oh and I love your hair wavy. But, Seven, play him
carefully. We need him and a sandbag of past sins weighs a ton when thrown at
you by someone you love. Okay?"
"Play
him carefully? Rather than take it easy on him?"
"You
have every right to get him in the lane he needs to be traveling in. Just don't
eviscerate him in the process." He meets your eyes. "I've been there.
When I was younger. It really hurts."
"I'll
be careful."
"Good
girl." Then he reaches up and cradles his head in his palm. "Fuck,
this really hurts."
"Doctor?"
You meet his eyes as he comes rushing over. "His head." You give him
the gentlest smile you can as you hand him the scanner.
He
shakes his head as he works. "Yet another fun new side effect. Give me a
minute, Captain Shaw, and I'll have that under control."
"You're
saving my life. You can call me Liam if you want."
You're
surprised and study him. He's playing the Doctor carefully too.
You're
always learning from him. He can manipulate at Janeway skill level yet seems to
lack the ensuing satisfaction she gets out of it. He just does it because it's
prudent—will increase safety for his things and his people.
"Liam,
then. Thank you for that. Here, this will help with the pain." He holds a
hypospray to his neck and lets it go. "I'll monitor this for about fifteen
minutes and then we need to get your next dose going."
"Okay.
You're the expert." His voice is so gentle—way too gentle. Even a fool
would know he's on to something.
And
the Doctor is no fool. "Oh, fuck, you heard everything she said to me,
didn't you?"
You
try not to laugh—have you ever heard the doctor drop an f-bomb before?
"I
did. Sorry. The headache woke me up and I was going to call for you, but you
two seemed to need to hash that out."
"Well,
a secret shared is a burden halved. Isn't that the old adage?"
You're
not sure it is. You can see Liam's not either. But you both nod anyway.
Anything
to keep him on your side—and more importantly, Liam's.
3.
Him
You
wake and Seven is back on the stool. She's drinking something amber and it has
ice in it.
"I
took your advice," she says without looking up from her padd. "But there's
not always ice to be had."
"Okay,
but other times? Why not drink it the way you really like it?"
"Because
there are too many liquor aficionados in the universe who believe you can only
appreciate good booze if you drink it unadulterated." She finally meets
your eyes. "They look down on you the minute you add ice. I hate to lose
points before I've even started. But, when I feel like it, I'll put some ice in
the glass. How's that?"
"That's
good." He looks around for the Doctor.
"He's
not here. He's offline. We only have to call and he'll show up, but he needed a
break. From me, I guess."
"Maybe
from us."
"Us?"
She lifts her eyebrow and you realize you really love that expression. "Is
there an us?"
"Well,
we're a command team."
"Dysfunctional
as hell."
You
smile, remembering past missions. "We weren't though. Not before
Picard."
"We
argued before Picard." She rolls her eyes and goes back to her padd.
"Sure,
but arguing is like foreplay for us." You've chosen that word deliberately.
You want to see how she reacts.
She
smiles but doesn't look up. "Well played, Captain Shaw. I'm wise to your
ways though."
"So
you're saying it's not foreplay?"
"I'm
not saying anything at all about foreplay." She laughs and the sound is
lighter than usual.
"So
I guess I should stop talking about foreplay?"
"You
can do whatever you want. You're the one suffering from what I did to you so I
can't really complain if foreplay is the only word you seem to know
tonight."
"I'm
not suffering at the moment." You move around gingerly, trying to see if
there's pain anywhere. "Except—why does my right knee hurt?"
"You
were sleeping funny."
You
just stare at her until she looks at you. "And you couldn't wake me
up?"
"No.
I tried, actually, but that last dose did you in. I moved your leg to a normal
position and you put it right back the way you had it. There was a limit to how
many times I wanted to try to rearrange your limbs." She gets up and walks
around to the other side of the biobed then begins to massage the area around
your knee. "Better?"
Honestly
it's doing Jack shit for your knee but wonders for things above it. You can
tell you're turning red. "Uh, no."
As
she turns, you snap out, "Keep facing my toes, Seven. For your own
sake."
She
laughs softly. "What if I don't want to?"
"Well,
then that's on you. I've done my part here."
She
walks around the biobed without looking at your groin and sits back down, and
you can't help but notice the very satisfied smile on her face. "Sorry my
massage didn't help."
"Your
massage was shit."
"Well,
for your knee it was." Then she laughs again and meets your eyes; her look
is both mischievous and slightly apologetic. "I'm sorry, Liam. I don't know
what the hell I'm doing. I'm so fucking tired."
"Then
get on one of these empty biobeds and go to sleep."
She
shakes her head. "Not when side effects can pop up at any moment. I'm not
going to have you die because I couldn't stay awake."
"Shaw
to EMH."
The
Doctor appears and you point at Seven. "You stay, she goes to sleep. Here,
her quarters, I don't care where. But she's past exhausted." And why the hell
do you have to tell this guy that? Is he hoping she'll suddenly love him if she
gets tired enough? Or can he really not see how tired she is?
Maybe
he has no idea how beat she is—that he's not seeing her the same way you are?
You love that idea.
"Seven,
do you want a biobed or your quarters?" The Doctor sounds more like a
father than a hopeful lover.
"Go
to your quarters, Hansen."
She
meets your eyes and seems to understand you're using that name because you
really need her to get some decent sleep.
You
also don't want her sleeping here with the Doctor watching her. Not after the
discussion they had earlier.
"I'll
be in my quarters if you need me."
"Good
night." You watch her leave then you look at the Doctor. "She's
stubborn."
"Really?
She just did exactly what you told her to do." The Doctor sits down on the
stool. "About the hair..."
"Hey,
I don't need to get in the middle of this."
"No,
it's that every other women on the ship's command team—the very people who were
probably going to teach her how to fix it—had straight hair. Back then the
regulations were clear: long hair had to be up or it couldn't be long. Straight
hair seemed like it would work better in a French twist. Which was the style
that suited her classical features best."
You're
not sure he's making this better with all the attention to detail, but you try
to keep your expression neutral.
"You
love her, don't you?" he asks very softly.
"Yes."
"What?
No creative expletive for the occasion?" He looks miserable.
"No."
You take a deep breath. "When I was younger, there was this junior officer
I mentored. I had such a great time with her. It seemed a natural next step to
ask her out. She let me down easy. Worst thing someone can do because then you think
there's a chance."
"So
you tried again?"
"And
again, and again. I lost her as a friend and she found another mentor. I was
lucky she didn't report me. She did verbally lay me out one night before she
transferred off. Said all the things she'd been holding in. It hurt like
hell." You gauge if he's resonating and he seems to be. "So I, uh, I
know where you've been. But it's not territory I ever crossed again and I
really suggest you don't either. Sometimes we don't get the girl."
"Where's
a romantic comedy when you need one? The poor sap always gets the girl in
those."
You
shrug and give him your gentlest smile. You want him to hear your message, but
you also want him to be kind to Seven because she clearly does love him, if not
the way he wants, and you want him to keep taking care of you. "Sometimes,
another girl shows up, though. Maybe it's time to give up."
"I'm
a hologram. I'm not programmed to give up."
Well,
that's fucking creepy. You decide to change the subject. "I slept weird.
Can you check my right knee?"
The
Doctor gets up and walks around the bed. He scans, then runs a regenerator over
your knee and the joint stops aching. "How's that?"
"Perfect.
Thanks." As he scans the rest of you, you ask, "When can I get out of
this bed and walk around?"
"When
I'm sure you aren't going to fall over at any moment with a new side
effect."
"And
how long do you think that'll be?"
"I
really have no idea, Liam. The Jurati nanoprobes are, well..."
"Nuts?"
He
laughs. "Not the word I'd have used. Unpredictable. Not unlike the woman
who gave them to you." He pats you on the shoulder and goes back into the
office.
You
think he's wrong. Seven isn't unpredictable. Once you know her preferences for
doing things her way, her reckless disregard for rules and diplomatic norms are
pretty much par for the course. As is her loyalty and her bravery and the way
she can throw back a verbal assault with added firepower. And the inherent
sweetness inside her that you've barely scratched the surface of.
But
really, really want to go deeper.
Her
You're
in the mess, finally feeling human after a very long sleep.
Raffi
walks up with a tray, a tentative smile on her face. "You said we could
talk. I know it hasn't been the right time but you look good, like you actually
slept."
"I
did. And yeah, sit." You go back to eating as she settles in.
The
silence starts out pleasant, but then it becomes loaded.
"So
one of us should talk, right?" Raffi smiles the smile you never used to be
able to resist. Kind of shy, kind of wry, very beautiful.
"I
love you. I will always love you. But..."
"But
you're in love with someone else? Did you really think I don't know that."
"If
you know that, why did you want to talk?"
"Well,
you're my friend and my captain. And my ex. And you've done something pretty
drastic so of course you're in sickbay with him, and I want to be supportive,
but...he made you pretty unhappy at times, if I remember conversations we
had."
Yes,
before you and Raffi stopped talking altogether, you did do some major bitching
about Liam. "Somewhere along the line things changed."
"Well,
I mean you've known him forever. He dropped everything to come."
"Who
do you think we're talking about?"
"The
Doctor. I guess he finally stalked you into a yes?"
You
exhale in a raggedly angry way—how could she think that you'd...with him?
"We are not talking about the fucking doctor."
"Whoa,
tone. I've been out of the loop and that's your fault. I wasn't the one who
went to radio silence."
You
know this. She's right. And you went to radio silence right around the time you
started finding common ground with the captain you weren't initially sure you
could work for.
"If
it's not the Doctor, then..." She frowns so deeply lines form between her
eyebrow. "No."
"Who
are we talking about now?"
"Shaw?
I saw you with him when he died. I know you've been camped out in sickbay with
him. But I thought that was solely because you needed to give him more blood.
Fucking Shaw?"
You
sigh and get up, taking her cup with you as you go to refill your coffee. You
take extra long adding her sugar and milk.
She's
watching you as you walk back. "Seven, why?"
There's
no good answer for this. Anything you say will be taken as an indictment of
your relationship with her. Liam makes you feel alive but that doesn't mean she
didn't, when things were good.
Liam
challenges you. But in a different way than she used to when she wanted you to
be more communicative, more open to commitment. He makes you better; she just
made you mad, at least at the end, when it was clear you could never become
what she wanted.
And
losing Liam made you feel utterly empty inside. In a way you've only
experienced once before, with Icheb.
You
think he's your person. You didn't even know you were looking for that, but
here he is and you can't deny how he makes you feel.
Safe.
But excited. He wasn't wrong about your arguing being foreplay. Some of your
favorite fantasies go from an argument to a bed.
And
he can be so much fun. You used to laugh a lot at your weekly dinners.
"I'd
rather not share why. Okay?" You smile at her as gently as you can.
"But I can share why I picked you for my first officer. It's because I
trust you implicitly to have my back. I trust your decision making. I know
you're going to look out for the ship and the crew. I know you and I complement
each other."
"But
you want him, not me. Were you and he together before?"
"No.
I have no idea if we'll work or not." But you think maybe you will, this
feels...different than any of your other lovers.
"Wow.
Okay. So I guess I just need to cut down any expectation I had for maybe
getting back together and move on too."
"Yeah,
I guess so."
"Seven,
when he was shot, when you were holding him, you were oblivious to what else
was going on around you."
"I
know." You think he would have been the same if you'd been shot instead of
him.
"You
would have died if I hadn't been there."
"I
know that too." You take a sip of coffee; it's too hot, burns your mouth.
"It was that there are feelings he and I never acknowledged much less
explored. It was that I'd betrayed him, for Picard, and then got him killed for
it. The last horrible thing to happen to him in a series of him being hurt.
Because of me. I think I was at the end of my rope." You close your eyes
and whisper, "I also felt her, when the junior officers were being
turned—I felt the Queen, the same one I'd known in the Delta Quadrant, and I
knew I couldn't fight her call. But then I felt the Jurati Queen. They were
warring for me. Agnes won."
"Holy
shit. I had no idea."
"I
don't know what that means. If I owe her something."
"Agnes
was all over the place there at the end but if she wanted something, I think
she'd just come out and tell you. That you owe her, you know? I don't think
she'd wait until you'd forgotten about how she saved you...again."
"Yeah,
that makes sense." You breathe out, a long exhale of relief. "There
are parts of my life only you know. Those are yours."
"Same."
"I
don't want to forget those times. Push them away or anything. I value what we
had for what it was: something beautiful. But maybe what we build now will be
even better."
You
can see she doubts it, but she says, "Maybe so."
And
you love her so much for that.
Him
You're
sitting up in bed and reading the padds Seven gave you when she walks in. She
looks so much better. "You got sleep."
"I
did."
You
hand her one of the padds. "I thought these would be good areas for you to
work on. Especially since they're implementing some Jurati tech in with the
other stuff. You're the resident Borg expert when it comes to that."
"Yes,
this would be fun." Her smile is genuine, but then she hands you back the
padd and looks around as if checking to see who's within earshot.
"He's
offline. Ohk's in her office."
"Oh,
good. How mad are you really that I brought you back to life?"
"Tell
me why you did it? Other than because you could." You grin.
She
doesn't return it. You see the same look on her face that you did when you were
dying. Lost, angry—guilty.
"Seven,
it doesn't matter why you did it. Really. It's done and we never have to talk
about it again."
"But
we do. Because...if I hadn't brought you back, part of me would always have
been lying there dead with you. And the rest of me, knowing that I brought this
on you, that I changed our course to accommodate Picard and started all of
this, well, I'm not sure what would have happened to that version of me."
You
don't love how raw her voice is, how tears are welling up. "Seven—"
"No.
I'm sorry that I took us there. I should have listened to you."
You
take her left hand and run your fingers lightly over the exoskeleton. "If
you had, we'd have been taken by surprise when the youngsters turned. We'd have
all been killed. I was an acceptable loss, Hansen."
"Not
to me. But I know what you say is logical. I know that would have happened. And
maybe there would be no more Federation."
"The
needs of the many. T'Veen would have told you that."
"I'm
so sorry that she's gone. That I couldn't blow the lift."
"I
knew when I told you to blow it that you wouldn't. One more order you'd choose
to ignore." With a shrug, you lift her hand to your face and rub it
against your cheek. You expect the Borg implant to be sharp and cold, but it's
not, it's smooth and warm, like her.
"Tuvok
showed me my officer review. I cried. Well, first I tried to resign before they
could punish me. But he wanted me to watch it, so I did, and then I cried. You
believed in me."
"I
did. I do."
"That
night in your quarters, when you told me how to spot a changeling, when you did
your 'fake Shaw.' That wasn't fake, was it?"
You
smile, remembering how it felt to say the truth to her and have her think it
was a lie. "No, it wasn't fake. I always knew you'd make an excellent
captain."
"If
I do, it's because of the captains that I learned from."
"Especially
me. Because I'm the finest captain you've ever served with."
"I'm
going to regret having said that, aren't I?"
You
laugh and nod. "I sure won't though. It was nice to hear."
"I
meant every word. You're also a huge dick, but that didn't support the point I
was making so..."
You
laugh. There's your girl. Finding the snark in this moment of connection.
She's
smiling as big as you are, laughing softly, and you pull her hand to your lips
and kiss it gently then let it go.
She
just stares at you, affection so clear on her face and you feel safe and seen
and free to be yourself with her. God knows, she's seen you at your worst.
"I
think I'm kind of glad you saved me, Seven."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"When
will you be sure?"
"I
don't know but I'll let you know when I am."
Her
smile is sweet and accepting and beautiful. "Okay."
4.
Her
You
walk into sickbay and stop in horror, staring at the bed Liam was in a few
short hours ago. The bed looks as if it hasn't been used, a blanket neatly
folded at the bottom like on all the other beds.
Like
no one was ever in it.
You
can feel yourself starting to tremble, and then you call out, "Liam?"
Then louder, "Liam!"
The
Doctor walks out from the deputy's office, takes one look at you, and rushes
over. "It's all right. He's walking with Ohk. He was going stir crazy, and
we thought it would do him good—maybe tire him out and make him less, well,
him."
"He's
alive?" You can barely see the Doctor and it takes you a stupidly long
time to realize it's because you're crying.
He
draws you into his arms and you don't fight him. You just let him hold you as
you weep.
"My,
my," he murmurs as he strokes your hair. "This is really quite
serious, isn't it?"
You
nod against his chest.
"I
don't remember you ever crying like this before."
You
ease away. "Don't tell him I did."
"I
think it would make him happy to know how much you care. How hard it hit you
seeing an empty bed."
The
door opens and you hear Ohk laughing at something Liam says so you turn to him.
He
takes one look at your face and the tears you forgot to wipe away and says,
"God damn it," and he's striding way too fast toward the Doctor.
"What did you do to her?"
You
jump between them. "No!"
He
stops, staring down at you.
"No,
Liam, it's not what you think. I came in, saw the empty bed, and thought the
worst. He was setting me straight and having to deal with me being a weepy
child over you. That's all."
"You
were weepy...over me?"
You
nod. "In my defense, it's been a really shitty week."
You
can feel the Doctor and Ohk easing away, leaving you two alone, as he laughs
gently and pulls you into his arms and holds you.
"Do
you need to cry more?"
"No.
It wasn't that shitty. But this is nice." You wrap your arms around him,
more tightly than you think you ever have around a partner, not just physically
but symbolically: you do not want to let go of him. Not ever.
"Next
time I'll leave a note."
"Yeah,
you big dick, that would be nice." You feel his lips on your hair, the
puff of air as he laughs at your words, the feeling of his hands running down
your back in a way that's nothing but comfort.
And
love.
"Seven,
I saw you with him, crying, and I wanted to kill him."
"Well,
fortunately, even if you'd tried, he's a hologram, so..."
He
leans in so his mouth is over your ear, "Do not think that would stop me
if I needed to. If you ever felt unsafe."
You
realize he's serious, that there is nothing he won't do for you, and you like
that feeling. You like it so much. But you whisper into his ear, "He was
just being kind. And it was nice. He was the Doctor I used to know."
"Good."
Then he lets out an enormous yawn. "Fuck, a few times up and down the
corridor and I'm zonked."
"You'll
get stronger." You ease out of his arms and help him, even though he
doesn't need it, to the bed.
You
get him covered up and he's out fast.
The
Doctor comes over to you. "Thank you for your intervention."
"I
care about you. And you were just being kind, right?"
"Yes,
actually. I was just being that. He's not a bad man, this captain of
yours."
"No,
he's really not."
Him
You
wake and hear Ohk and the Doctor talking, so you keep your eyes closed in case
they're talking about something you should know but they'll never tell you.
But
they're not talking about you.
"I
saw that they had the donut you like in the cafeteria," the Doctor says.
"They
run out of these so fast. Thank you." Then there's the contented sounds she
makes when she is eating something she loves.
"I
may have gotten there quite early to acquire this. Is that...creepy?"
"Is
what creepy?"
"That
I know what kind of donut you like? That I went early just to get it?"
"No,
you're observant. It's why I like working with you. You miss nothing."
"But
the going early? Too much?"
"Next
time." Her voice is pitched in an interesting way—you wonder if the Doctor
will catch it. "Get me two. Now, how is our boy doing?"
You
make "just waking up sounds" so they won't know you were
eavesdropping on them. "Morning," you mumble.
Then
you realize as you stretch that nothing hurts. You just feel like you finally.
"I feel...good."
"Your
vitals look good too, Liam." Ohk is still eating her donut, letting the
Doctor do all the actual work and she grins at you.
She's
strong, well adjusted, and nearly impossible to mold in any way she doesn't
want to be molded. You decide if she and the Doctor are getting friendly, you
don't have a problem with it.
You
would like a donut though. "How come I don't get one of those?"
"Because
you are not that important to me, Liam." The Doctor winks at you.
"But if you tell me your favorites, I will get you one the next time I
go."
"Does
that mean I can have coffee now? And I like maple bars. If there aren't any of
those, an old fashioned"
"No,
you cannot have coffee unless it's decaf."
"Ohk...?"
"He
knows this process better than I do, Liam. Sorry." She leans down and
kisses your cheek then goes back to her office.
The
Doctor turns to you, a bit of panic on his face, so you hold up your hand and
say, "Worked with her on and off for years. Nothing going on between us.
That kiss was just friendly."
"Oh.
Yes. Thank you, Liam."
"Now
can I have regular coffee?"
"I'm
not denying you coffee to be mean. I really do not want to add caffeine to the
mix right now. Especially when you're doing so well. Please, just...behave for
a while. I know it's difficult but I don't want to have to tell Seven I failed
you because I went soft on the rules."
You
exhale noisily. "Fine."
You
hear a cough at the door and see Raffi. The Doctor cocks his head and says,
"May I help you?"
"I'm
Musiker. My friends call me Raffi."
"And
am I your friend?" the Doctor doesn't back down in the face of the
implacable amazon thing she has going and you give him credit. But then he
faced down Janeway on the regular so...
"Sure,
why not." She walks over to you. "Can you give us the room,
Doc?"
"Are
you going to hurt him? I know you and Seven were involved."
"I
might like to, but no, I'll be good."
"Liam?
Should I stay and supervise?" He actually looks worried for you.
You're
touched. "Nyah, we're fine." You meet her eyes. "We are fine,
right?"
She
waits until the Doctor has gone and pulls up a stool. "You tell me,
Captain Shaw. How fine are we?"
"I
know we're going to be serving together. Do you have a problem with that."
Best to go on the offensive with someone like her, and you're a big enough
asshole to do it.
"I
question it."
"As
I question you being first officer."
"Wow.
She did not say you were this ballsy." She actually laughs. "Do you?
Question that?"
"Not
really, no. You were super impressive during that briefing with Worf. Seven can
be a living action figure when she feels like it but it's her brain that makes
her special. Her problem solving skills, her ability to quickly analyze data,
see what's coming. She wouldn't pick anyone who couldn't keep up with her
intellectually for any important role in her life—personal or professional.
Which tells me you are also someone who can figure shit out."
She
smiles.
"But
you must provide something she's missing. Because she's smart that way too. She
knows how to fill gaps."
"I'm
better with people."
"Is
that because of the swords or..."
She
laughs again. "The swords are pretty new actually. Different backgrounds.
I know what people want. She assumes they want what she does. Different things
most of the time."
"Yeah."
"What
do you bring to the team, Captain?"
"Well,
I can annoy her like no one else on this ship."
She
laughs again and you can tell it's pissing her off a little that she finds you
funny. "Noted."
"I
care about safety. I'm cautious when she's reckless. I'll call her on
bullshit."
"Even
once you're sleeping with her? I assume you're not yet?"
"I
don't know that I will be."
"Oh,
come on. You were claiming her during that briefing you were so impressed
at."
"What
are you talking about?"
"You
had your hand on her chair. It was...possessive."
"Oh,
that wasn't about you. That was about your former boss who kept stealing her
loyalty away from me."
"JL?
You think he notices that kind of thing? That's why he had me on his staff. To
see all the gooey interpersonal things he just didn't."
"Well,
damn. Useless message then."
"Not
really. She let you. She didn't even react."
"Maybe
she didn't know. I had my hand on the back of her chair, not her back."
"Believe
me. Her situational awareness is at times terrifying. I think it's a Borg
thing—knowing where you are vis-a-vis other drones on a crowded cube. So if she
let you keep your hand on her chair it was because she didn't mind." She
looks down. "But that might have been for me."
"She's
not that cruel."
"She
is when she wants to shut something down."
You
think back to how she laid into the EMH. Maybe she is. But you're that way too.
You two tore each other to bits when you should have been presenting a united
front to Vadic and your bridge crew. You lost T'Veen amid an argument over her
blowing a lift you never thought she'd really blow and you not calling her a
name she knew you wouldn't use.
You
sigh. "I didn't mean it to be that. For what it's worth."
"I
believe you. So, why I'm really here is that we need to figure out how we can
work together—with Ohk—to make her the best captain in the Fleet."
"Interesting
council of advisors. Like from the Island of Misfit Toys."
"And
sadly I know that reference. I have a granddaughter who loves that show."
Joy shines from her face and she looks radiant. You wonder how Seven walked
away from her.
But
you're glad that she did.
"I'm
not opposed to working with you and Ohk on that. Seeing Seven succeed will be
sweet."
"Yes.
Yes it will."
5.
Her
You
come in the next morning to find everyone eating donuts. Liam is happily
devouring a maple bar and he points to a container.
"Sadly,
Seven, I don't know your preference." The Doctor shares a wry look with
you.
"I
do," Liam says between bites. "Bear claws."
"Oh,
good, I got one of those for the name alone." He lifts the lid and you
pull out your favorite pastry.
"Mmmm."
You bite into it and it hits the spot. Then you realize Liam has a mug of
something dark. "Is that coffee?"
"Don't
get excited. It's decaf." He makes a face but you see Ohk pointing to her
office, mouthing, "Regular's in here."
You
try to bite back a smile but fail.
"What?"
He looks around. "What am I missing?"
"Nothing."
"God
damn it, Ohk, you said you were drinking decaf too."
Ohk
ducks into her office and comes out with a cup for you.
"She
fucking lied to me." Liam sounds more than a little cranky. "I'm sick
of being here."
"When
you finish your pastry, you can take a walk with Seven." The Doctor's
voice is the one you remember from when he was really tired of a particular
patient's whining. "Won't that be nice?"
"Okay."
He grumbles something you can't pick up.
You
decide to ignore him and just enjoy the bear claw. "How early did you have
to get to the mess to find these?" you ask the Doctor. "They run out
fast."
"I
got there very early." You see him trade a smile with Ohk, and you look at
Liam to see if he noticed, but he's still busy muttering to himself about lack
of caffeine and being bored.
You'll
ask him on the walk.
Once
you've finished your donuts, the two of you head out and he seems to breathe a
sigh of relief to be free of sickbay, even if it's only temporarily.
"What's
really wrong?"
"I
want to go to the gym. They won't let me."
"Give
it time."
"Yeah,
that's the answer to everything." He walks a little faster, as if he's
trying to lose you in the corridor of the ship you both know like the back of
your hand.
"Hey,
Captain Grumpy." You slip into a side corridor and wait for him to come
back to you. When he does, you turn him so he's leaning against the wall and
then move closer. Very slowly.
"Well,
this is more fun already."
You
smile and you know it's a mischievous one. Not one you can fake and he'll be
aware of that. "You've never kissed me, Captain Shaw. Don't you think you
should remedy that?"
"I
really do, Captain Seven." He draws you the rest of the way to him, and
you're a good match height wise, neither of you has to strain.
His
lips on yours are so soft, so gentle, and you let him set the pace. He needs to
be in control of something right now. Even if it's just this.
He's
a nice kisser, not messy, not rough and you imagine how his lips will feel
other places, when he's stronger. You think he uses his mouth the same way he
does his hands, with intent and skill, and that thought makes you moan.
His
kisses aren't so soft now, his tongue touches your lips and you open them, let
him in, sighing at the feeling of being this close to him.
Finally.
He
moans as you push him harder against the wall, as you grind gently into him. He
finally pushes you away so he can look at you. Not for the first time, you're
mesmerized by his eyes, the way they change color. You know they're technically
gray but today they look blue.
"I
want you so fucking bad, Seven."
"I
want you, too. Maybe we could just do a little if we sneak—"
A
low—disappointed—cough sounds from the end of the corridor. Ohk and the Doctor
are both standing there, arms crossed, wearing twin looks of disapproval.
"Vitals
were elevated. Now we know why, Doctor." Ohk shakes her head and points
back in the direction of sickbay.
"Goddamn
it, Hansen. It's your ship, tell them to fuck off."
"It's
my ship, but it's your life. If you're not cleared for this, you're not
cleared." You feel bad for starting something you can't finish.
"Hate
this."
"I
know. But I can sit in bed with you and go over engineering schematics."
This
time it's the Doctor who coughs.
"I
can't even sit in bed with him? For fuck's sake."
"You
tell 'em," Liam says under his breath.
"Fine,
if you two can figure out a way that does not involve climbing all over each
other to share a biobed, then sure, go for it." Ohk says as she and the
Doctor back up, leaving a path for you and Liam to return to sickbay like
chastised children.
They
don't follow you back in.
"What's
with them?" you ask Liam as he gets onto the bed and moves over, leaving
you room.
"I
think they're sweet on each other. Wait a goddamn minute. Where are they?"
"Out
there, I guess."
"Yeah
but doing what?" He practically pushes you off the bed. "Go
look."
You
sneak-run to the door and peek out. Ohk has the Doctor pushed up against the
wall and is kissing him very vigorously. You don't know whether to call them on
it or let them be.
"What
are they doing?" Liam asks.
You
turn and go back to the bed. "What we were."
"Awww,
that's so sweet."
As
you climb back into the bed, you say, "Do you mean that or are you just
glad to have him not after me."
"Can't
it be both?"
"I
guess it can."
"If
it were just anyone but Ohk."
You
frown. "She's your friend."
"That
she is. I've watched her for quite a while. She's...hard to pin down,
romantically I mean."
"So
am I. Yet here I am sitting on a biobed waiting to go over engineering
schematics just to cheer you up."
"You'd
enjoy doing that anyway."
"Well
she looked like she was enjoying doing him—if you know what I mean."
"Yeah.
I do." But he looks worried.
You
chalk it up to just more of his grumpiness and pull over some padds so you can
lose yourself in planning how you're going to implement the design changes.
Him
Later,
after Seven has gone and the Doctor's gone offline for a while, you motion Ohk
over. "What are you doing?"
"I'm
being a doctor. Do you not know me? Is this another side effect?" She
gives you the look she's been giving you for years: the one that says to mind
your own business.
It's
a look you've been ignoring for years on behalf of innocents everywhere.
"I mean with the Doctor."
She
rolls her eyes.
"Listen,
it's just, you know, you tend to do things on a lark. And as ephemeral as he
may appear, I don't think he does larks."
"Also
rebound. Go ahead and say it, because I know you're thinking it."
"Well
you did spend a year specializing in them."
"I
had to get my drama somehow—that assignment was so boring." She pulls up a
stool and sits down next to your bed. "He was never with Seven so they
never broke up so technically this is not a rebound."
"Okay,
I accept that argument. But lark?"
"What
if this isn't? A lark, I mean. You know I'm not the most...approachable person
in the whole world."
"Or
even on this ship."
"Exactly.
I like things how I like them. I don't really want to have to explain why I
like to spend so much time here instead of cuddling up next to some cutie pie
who wants everything."
"He's
going to want everything."
"I
know. But he'll want a lot of it here, in sickbay. And he can go offline. Time
doesn't have to pass for him if I need a break."
"That
is so fucking cold."
"He's
the one who brought it up. That he does that. When he needs a break. That
somehow it's restorative—like sleep for us only without the dreams. I'm just
extrapolating from that." She frowns at you. "Since when do you give
a rat's ass what happens to him? You were about to take his holographic head
off when Seven was crying."
"I
just...I feel sort of..."
"Awww,
are you finding another person to be a protector for? You really are the sweetest
man underneath that crusty exterior."
"Shut
up."
"He
won't be here forever, Liam. I'm sure it'd be great to take it slow but if I
want to enjoy him—find out what it's like with a photonic being—I've got to do
it while you're still having the fun new side effects that keep him here."
"Do
you like him? I mean beyond the curiosity factor?"
"I
do."
You
take a deep breath. "Tell Seven you want him as your deputy."
Her
face falls and you once again wish she would, just once, not play with people's
emotions.
"You
don't want that?"
"If
it doesn't work out, he's here for the duration. And how often do I do long
term?"
"Then
you make it damn clear to him that this is not that."
"Liam,
he knows." She shakes her head. "Worry about your own thing."
"Worry
why? Is there something wrong with my thing—is there something wrong with me?
Is that why you stopped me today in the corridor. Can I not do it
anymore?"
"You
are so over dramatic. I just mean, stay in your lane."
"You
are my lane. One of them. You're my friend and a menace to easily breakable
hearts everywhere."
"He
seems fine with it, but I will make sure—extra, super duper sure—that he
understands what I'm offering and what I'm not, all right?"
"All
right. Thanks."
"Busybody."
She leaves you and you lean back, exhausted as you always are when dealing with
her on a personal basis. Professionally, she's a gem. So much so that no one
would ever guess the broken hearts left strewn in her wake.
You
just thank God yours was never one of them.
6.
Her
You're
sitting with Raffi on the bridge—the others are all off at various training things
or on leave, and it's not like you need them since you're in space dock and the
ship is in no shape to make a break for it if you run into more changelings or
some other danger. It feels sort of nice, knowing that even if another
emergency comes up, you can't possibly answer it.
Fuck.
Did you just jinx yourself?
You
murmur, "I take that out of the law." It's a Ranger superstition and
ritual, the undoing of a jinx, of something stated or thought that basically
dares the universe to show you how wrong you are.
Raffi
has heard you say it many times before and doesn't even react. You both sit
slouched down in your chairs, eating ice cream from huge containers the way you
used to do when you were together.
"So
he's pissy?" she asks.
"Oh
my God. If Ohk and the Doctor don't cut him some slack soon, there will be
murder. Possibly just from the swear words that are going to come out of his
mouth."
"He
knows it's for his own good, yeah?"
"Yeah.
And I'm not making it better since—" Shit should you be telling her this?
"Since
what? He wants to jump your bones and you don't make it easy for him not to?
But sexy times are on the 'not allowed' list too?"
Or
maybe she knows you well enough that you really can tell her anything.
"Yes."
"Yeah,
that would suck. I feel so bad for him." She's smiling in the way you love
best, the teasing smile when she's gotten the better of you, but in the
sweetest way.
You
laugh but then it fades away as you think of how bored Liam truly is, how
restless and how it's only a matter of time before he rebels. "I ran into
Jack the other day. He's bored shitless at OCS. Testing out of everything. Done
with his homework before classes are even over. So I told him to come up some
evening and keep Liam company."
"Jack?
Jack Crusher? You do want Liam to get well, right?"
"Take
Picard out of the mix and I think they'll get along well. It was the two of
them who figured out that the Changelings were tracking us and how. Ohk told me
Liam was asking Jack how the changeling were finding us while he was basically
dying from internal bleeding." Ohk also told you how Beverly stepped in,
how she had underestimated the older woman's utility and the severity of Liam's
injuries, and how bad she felt about it. You love that she was willing to share
a moment that did not make her look good; it helps you trust her more.
"Well,
no one can say that your boy doesn't have impressive multitasking skills and dedication
to the mission. Maybe Jack will be okay for him. But if one or both of them end
up dead, it's on you."
"Accepted."
You go quiet for a moment, then say, "What would you think of having Jack
on this ship? He's more than a little adrift."
"As
what? We don't have a crimes and misdemeanors section."
"But
maybe we should." You laugh at her expression. "Look, he understands
how things work in a way most people, who aren't you, don't. I wouldn't mind
having a fixer."
"In
the mafia, you'd call him your consigliere. I don't suggest you put that as the
official job title though. Starfleet will for sure get suspicious. Maybe your
new boy toy can figure out a good 'could mean anything' job title. He seems
like the kind who knows how to work the system."
"He
is."
"He's
also funnier than I thought he would be."
"I
know. It was a shock at first. He's so..."
"Stick
up the ass."
"I
was going to say 'rigid,'"
"Same
diff." She laughs at your expression. "But he's hilarious."
"He
really is. And once you're one of his people, Raff, he'll do anything for
you."
"Yeah
but he's not captain so I won't be his person."
You
shoot her a look.
"Okay,
he's not captain, but this is still so much his ship, and I'm on the ship, so
I'm one of his people. And you want that from an engineer. If they're not a
little in love with your ship, you're fucked."
"True.
I learned that from B'Elanna. I approached a job with my brain generally, and
she would tell me to treat the engines with love. Well, not that exact wording
because she's half Klingon and we didn't get along at all at first. But that
was the overall message."
"Have
you broken the news to him yet? About the ship's name change?"
"No,
and I've threatened to keel haul anyone who knows who does."
She
rolls her eyes. "You know you can't keel haul someone in space,
right?"
"That
has never been fully proven."
Raffi
just laughs and goes back to her ice cream.
You
finish yours and lean your head back. "It's nice to have this all to
ourselves. Weird without the others, but nice."
"It
is. You gonna put Crusher in the extra seat, then?"
"Why
not? It's not like it has an actual use and I know Liam won't want to be up
here. I really do think he'll be happier than he's been in a long while now
that he'll be with his engines."
The
lift doors open and Jack walks out. "Hi. I thought I'd come tonight if
that's okay?"
"Your
timing is impeccable." You wave him forward. "What's in the bag,
though?"
He
crouches down and unpacks some kind of portable game console, a bottle of
scotch, lots of chocolate bars, several types of jerky, a huge bag of caramel
corn, a bookstore padd, movie and music padds with fancy headphones, and some
Cuban cigars and a lighter.
Raffi
starts to laugh. "Jesus, are you paying a visit to the recovering guy or
trying to get him to marry you?"
"I
may be overcompensating. He died because of me. And you said he was
bored."
You're
charmed by the gifts and his earnestness but grab the Scotch, the cigars and
lighter, and the chocolates. At Raffi's look, you say, "Chocolate has
caffeine, the darker the chocolate the higher it is. I already tried to take
him his favorite super dark and it was promptly confiscated by Ohk."
"Will
she give it back?" Raffi actually seemed concerned. "No chocolate on
top of no coffee? That's harsh."
"No
booze is harsher," Jack says with a laugh.
"I
stay off it—for reasons." Her voice is easy, like she's trying to tell him
in the kindest way possible that she can't drink anymore.
"Oh,
sorry, I didn't even think."
"It's
okay. Why should you have?"
You
like his recovery—and hers.
"He
can have wine or beer, but not harder stuff. Okay let me check this..."
You reach for the jerky and check the sodium content; it's not too bad, so you
let him leave it in. You know he's going to be repeating this for Ohk and/or
the Doctor when he gets down to sickbay.
He
looks resigned. "Well, keep this other stuff until he can have it. Or who
knows, maybe we'll grow on each other so much that I can give them to him
myself when he's finally cleared for them."
"Or
you can do it when you're on the ship. I mean if you want to be on the
ship?"
"You
would want me on this ship? Your ship?"
"I'm
shocked too, Crusher," Raffi says.
"Do
you want to be on this ship, Jack?"
"Yes."
There's no extra words, no sparkling charm, no attempt to work a better deal.
And that's how you know he's unhappy—truly unhappy.
You've
been there. You don't want him to have to go through it if you can help him.
That it's a way that helps you both just makes it sweeter. "Let me see
what I can do. Don't tell Liam though."
"Don't
tell anyone," Raffi says, threat heavy in her voice.
He
doesn't look the least bit scared. "Mum's the word."
Him
You
hear familiar footsteps and say, "No fucking way," then see Crusher
walk into sickbay.
"Hello,
Sir."
"Hiya."
The
Doctor rushes out. "What is in that bag?"
"Wow,
it's like he's a national treasure or something." But he lets the Doctor
look.
"This
is marginal." He's holding packages of what looks like jerky.
"But...I'll allow it if"—he turns to you—"you promise to limit
yourself to one bag per day. No more."
"Jerky
doesn't have caffeine."
"But
it does have sodium," Ohk says coming out from her office.
"Indeed."
The Doctor shares a sweet look with her and you hope to fuck she's got him on
the same page as her. But it's out of your hands now, and you're smart enough
to know when to leave shit alone.
"I
promise."
The
Doctor puts it back in the bag. "And your name, young man?"
"Oh,
come on. He's Jack fucking Crusher."
"Ohhhhhh.
Why are you here to see him?"
"Because
I bloody well want to."
You
purse your lips and nod. That's the right attitude to take with this bullshit.
The
Doctor actually backs off just a bit. "I'm sorry for the intrusiveness. We
just..."
"Care?"
"Well,
that might be overstating things." The delivery is so perfect you have to
laugh. The Doctor smiles like he got a great one over on you then follows Ohk
into her office.
"Well,
Liam, you're locked up tighter than a princess's knickers."
"You've
obviously not met the same princesses I have."
"Oh,
do tell." He looks at the stool you point to and just mutters,
"No." Then he yells, "Oy, can we sit at the table?"
Ohk
answers this time. "Only if he keeps his feet up."
"Fine,
yeah, we can do that." He rolls his eyes but seems to be watching whether
you need help or not getting off the biobed.
You
don't. "Why do we need a table?"
"A.
I want to piss them off. B. You'll see."
Well,
he's as annoying as ever. You're glad some things don't change. He points to a
chair and drags another one closer for you to put your feet up on. Then he sits
and starts unpacking the bag.
"Holy
fuck. What is all this?"
"Guilt,
primarily." He grins at you, but his eyes aren't smiling so you know he's
not just joking. This is guilt.
"Jack,
you didn't ask for any of what happened to you. It was in your goddamned
genes. What do you have to be guilty for? Moreover, how many times did you try
to give yourself up for my ship? We're okay."
He
smiles but again, it doesn't meet his eyes.
"And
I can see you might need some time to believe that. So I'm going to keep all
this stuff because I have not seen a lot of these movies." You scroll
through the contents and smile. Hours of fun. None of these are available on
the Starfleet streaming app. "Thank you."
"Some
are my favs. Some are Sidney's. Alandra had input."
"The
whole fam." You pick up the game console. "God, I have not seen one
of these in years."
"I
know. Growing up, we were constantly on the run. To the point where I slept in
my regular clothes in case we had to bolt in the night. I had a bag I kept by
my bed or carried everywhere with me. All the things that were precious. This
was always in it. But...I've never played it in any mode than single player.
And I thought maybe you might be bored enough to play something with me. But if
not, that's fine too. I can just leave it with you and you can do single
player."
You
hand it back—or try to. He won't take it. "Jack, I'm not taking
this."
"You
have to. At least until you're sprung from this place. I reset all the stats
and everything."
You
can see you're not going to win this. "Well, let's play then." So
many options. "I don't like chess much."
"Me
either."
"I
would have thought you'd be great at it."
"I
am, but I still don't like it."
You
nod since you feel pretty much the same way about the game.
"Backgammon?"
"Sure."
You
lay the game console out flat and it becomes a backgammon board. You realize
you're grinning like a little kid. How sad is your life that a game of
backgammon is probably going to be the high point of your week?
Actually
one game turns into two, turns into five. You've got the package of caramel
corn open and Ohk keeps coming over and taking handfuls of it until you finally
tell her to get a container and you pour her some.
The
Doctor cruises by every so often, trying to act casual but failing. He leaves
you alone though.
After
his last pass, you lean in and say very softly, "I do want to play more,
Jack, but do you still have access to medical records on this ship?" He
did when he was helping out in sickbay so you hope that hasn't changed.
"Something's been worrying me."
He
pulls out a padd. "Okay, what is it?"
"Am
I..." you point down to your groin. "I just want to know if things
are going to work."
"For
a certain ex-Borg we both know?"
"Maybe."
"Oh
come on. You two have mad chemistry. Even when you fight. Especially when you
fight."
"Yeah,
it's like foreplay for us."
"I
don't want to know the details. But..." He looks surprised and then starts
moving screens and checking other results.
"God
damn it, Jack, how bad is it?"
"It's
not bad at all. I'm just making sure your heart can stand all the exercise it's
going to get." He closes up the screens and puts the padd back in his
pocket. "And it will. But keep going to the gym."
"They
won't let me. I'm going to lose all my muscle tone and she won't want me."
"Mate,
she'd want you no matter what. You two are gone on each other. Okay, so I don't
want to spoil your first time as a reborn man—whenever the medical guard dogs
you have here let that finally happen—but let's just say the refractory period
is probably going to be super short. Multiple times maybe. Whatever they used
to bring you back—I think you're going to want to thank them."
"Yeah?
I mean I'm in my fifties."
"Not
all of you is."
You
laugh like a teen. "Thank you. I was so worried."
"It
really is the least I can do. Now, I need to catch up and make this
three-three."
He
does, and six games turns to eight that turn to ten.
You're
five to five, and you want to go on, but you're yawning so frequently that Jack
folds up the board before you can reset it and pushes it toward you.
"Time
for bed, sir."
"I'm
sorry."
"Don't
be sorry. That was fun." He stares down at the table and his whole body
language shifts.
"What's
wrong?"
"Is
what I did ever going to go away? You're the only one of the people I killed
that I can actually apologize to." He looks at you and his eyes are
welling up. "The Queen told me it would be a perfect world. I thought I
was creating a perfect world. Not...not what I did." He looks down as if
the table is the most interesting thing in the universe.
You
grab his chin, force him to look at you. "You didn't kill anyone. You
were being used by a fucking monster who planned this long ago, before you were
even born."
"I
hear people call me the Borg Prince, though."
"And
some call me Ten of Ten. I hate that fucking name but I don't ever let them
know it. Because, listen, in life there are changing moments. They demarcate
our life forever. There's life before them and life after and that's how you'll
think of it."
"For
you it's Wolf 359?"
You
nod. "And for you it's this. You will never be the same cocky boy who
showed up on my ship. You're a man now who's gone through some shit and feels
really super bad about it. And that's good. If you didn't feel bad, then you'd
be a sociopath."
"Does
it get better?"
"Do
you remember how I acted in Ten-Forward? Does it look like it gets
better?"
"Jesus.
Thanks for the pep talk."
"Wait,
I'm not done. There's two versions of us now. The ones who lived before and the
ones who deal with it all after. If better is going back to who we were, then
no, we can't do that. But there is a strength—a beauty, even—to walking on a
road you know is laced with landmines and still saying, 'Fuck you, universe.
Bring it.' So do that. Be that Jack Crusher, because I think you're just a
little bit extraordinary, and if you repeat that to anyone, I'll blame the pain
meds I'm no longer on."
He
laughs and wipes his eyes. "Thank you, Captain."
"You
called me Liam earlier—probably to piss me off. Now, you can do it because I
want you to."
"Thanks,
Liam." He looks down, at your hand where it's resting on the game
console—and shaking.
Shit
you really must be beat. You haven't had a tremor for a while.
"I
almost forgot. I noticed your tremor in Ten-Forward that day. When I was
little, and the nightmares would come, I'd just stay up. And I had this weird
twitch thing happening with my eye and it was so annoying. I really wanted a
dog—and my mother knew it would probably help me with the stress—but you stand
out if you're two people trying to look no conspicuous but are bringing along a
big dog." He digs something out of his pocket. "So she gave me this.
My virtual dog—only it can be a cat or a bird or a hamster or whatever. It's uh
black market—but she had it checked for any malware and there's none. Funny
thing, Seven made me show her what was in the bag, but she forgot to ask if I
had anything in my pockets, so maybe don't tell her where you got it."
"I
don't think I want to lie to her. I just won't tell her it's black market. She won't
know which virtual pet apps are registered and which aren't." You hand it
back to him. "But I'm not taking your virtual pet."
"You
have to. I completely wiped it. My eye hasn't twitched since the Queen died. So
I don't need it. And maybe someday I'll get a real dog."
"What
kind of dog did you have?"
"English
setter. His name was Charles and I loved him. He was my only friend sometimes.
What kind are you going to get?"
"I
may get a cat. Their purrs are good for your heart."
"Well,
there you go. See, it's medically necessary." He stands. "I
understand if you don't want me to come back—you don't have to—"
"Ooh,
are you chicken shit? Afraid you can't take me, just gonna leave it tied so you
don't have to lose? I see how it is."
He
laughs. "Tomorrow I'm busy with Sidney but the next night? I'll skunk
you."
"Wrong
terminology but I look forward to it."
"Me
too."
7.
Her
You
walk through the ship and it's empty, with a smell and a feel you can only
compare to a Borg cube. Humid, warm, and devoid of...individuality.
A
clanking sound is ahead of you so you turn back, but two drones block your way.
Behind you there are footsteps, then you hear a very familiar voice say,
"Resistance is futile, my love."
"Liam?"
you whisper, turning to see he's a drone and his assimilation tube is extended.
"You
did this to me," he says as he slams it through your heart.
You
jerk awake. "Fuck." This isn't the first time you've had this dream.
Liam
is getting better, day by day for a week with less side effects to the
infusion, and yet you can't shake this...terror that you've done something
horrible to him.
You
want to go to him, to check to make sure he's all right, but you did that the
last two times you had the nightmare and only served to freak him out a little
since you were behaving so strangely.
This
will never stop unless you face the nightmare head on. You sit at your desk in
front of the terminal and put in the code for the Jurati collective.
Your
deepest fear is that whoever answers will know you, will see you as some kind
of sibling, but they do not. Agnes has tweaked the changes that occur to her
Borg. They are less gray, less...frightening.
No
doubt it's easier to attract new members when you don't terrify them.
"I
need to speak to Agnes." You think few will call her that—that perhaps the
person who's answered won't even know who that is—but he just says, "Who
should I say is calling?"
"Seven
of Nine."
He
visibly shrinks back. Clearly there is no love for traditional Borg in the
Jurati.
"Or
Annika Hansen. She'll know me either way."
"Hold,
please."
A
moment later she is there, looking the same as she did the last time you saw
her. Her smile is somewhere between the beautiful openness of Agnes and the
menace of the Queen. "Hello, Seven."
"Agnes."
You have her in front of you but are afraid to ask her the question. Instead
you look away.
"Speak,
child. You must have had a reason to call us after all this time?"
"I
used nanoprobes to bring someone back to life. Did I make him part of the
Jurati?"
"If
he donated blood to someone, would it make them part of his family?"
"His
blood doesn't resurrect the dead."
"Fair
point. No, he's just alive, thanks to the marvel that is us—and you."
You
breathe out air you didn't realize you were holding. You haven't destroyed him.
"Next
time, Seven, start the conversation with 'Hello. How are you. Long time no
see.'" It is Agnes's voice and you smile at hearing it. Then it switches
back to the more layered sound of their combined voice. "We find it works
better to get what you want. But we know you have...challenges with these
things so we'll let it go."
"Are
you well?"
"We
are. We have many members. We invent and we explore and we reunite to share our
discoveries. It is...invigorating. And we are never alone."
"I'm
glad."
"Congratulations
on your promotion. It was short sighted of Starfleet to deny you membership
when you first asked but satisfying to see you rising so quickly now that you
are in."
"Thank
you. It was...unexpected."
"Does
Raffi prosper as well?"
"Yes.
She's my first officer."
"And
your lover?"
You
shake your head, unsure how Agnes will take that news. Raffi is the reason you
still live—her pleas moved Agnes and the Queen. You had nothing to do with it.
"Raffi
knows how to love. We are interested in that. If she would like to pay a visit
to our collective—no commitment or assimilation required—we would welcome that.
Promise us you will relay that message. Your expression indicates
otherwise."
You
laugh, a little hysterically. "I promise."
And
you do, after you're showered and dressed when you find her in the mess eating
breakfast. "Uhhh, I don't know how to tell you this, but I was just
talking to Agnes."
"Really
it's the Agnes Queen. Agnes is no more. Just as the Queen isn't really there
alone either."
"Working
in Intelligence has made you exceptionally flexible in how you adjust to
strange things."
She
nods with a smile. "Plus you know I'm right."
"Well,
let's see how flexible you really are. She, it turns out, has a thing for you.
She found out we weren't together and said you can stop by anytime. No
commitment or assimilation required."
"Hmmm.
I mean I have a thing for blondes, obviously."
"She's
not blonde any longer."
"Someone
doesn't like this," she says to you in a singsong way.
"Someone
doesn't want to think of you getting accidentally assimilated when you do that
thing with your thumbs and your tongue."
"Oh,
good point. You dislocated my shoulder that one time with your reaction."
"Like
I said."
"Still,
maybe I'll give her a call."
"I
can't even tell if you're kidding."
"Sadly,
neither can I." She sighs. "I so need to get off this ship and to a place
where the people around me aren't people I lead and therefore probably
shouldn't have sex with."
"Lucille
is saving you a barstool."
"Lucille
says that to everyone."
"She
did not say it to me." In fact, the attention she paid to Raffi when you
were at her bar annoyed you. "Trust me. She was interested."
"Do
you need me today? I could really use a day of leave."
You
laugh. "Go. Tell me if she's as good as she seems like she'd be."
"Are
we going to do that? Talk about our sex lives?"
"In
general terms. I do not need the details. It's what friends do, right?"
"Yeah,
it's the last exit marker before we get off the relationship road and onto the
highway of being truly over."
"I
know. I'm sorry. If it's too much, you don't have to—and I won't."
She
takes your hand. "No, it's time we turned off the lights on that part of
us. I'll let you know if she's any good."
You
look down.
"Are
you jealous?"
"Yes.
But, that's not fair."
"No,
but it is human."
Him
You're
not as bored, not now that Jack comes to play backgammon and other games with
you, and has left you fun things to watch and read and listen to, not when he's
brought Sidney with him to eat dinner with you, or when Alandra came another
time and you got Ohk and the Doctor to sit and play poker with all of you.
And
you've got your virtual pet. A gray cat you've named Shadow. It's not anything
like the real deal, but you can see how a little boy who never had the real
thing might have fallen in love with his English Setter.
And
it's definitely relaxing to hear the purrs.
Seven's
had meetings and dinners and classes that Starfleet is making her take. She
comes back every afternoon to give you the infusion and hangs out whenever she
can, but they are stolen moments And she's been down a couple times in the
middle of the night to check on you with a super panicked look on her face but
you have no idea why.
When
there's time, you'll ask her.
For
now, you miss the fuck out of her, but you remember what it was like when you
first made captain. How many seminars, how many meet and greets that were
completely unnecessary but had to be done, how many read-ins for things you
didn't previously have access to. You know you two are fine.
In
a total holding pattern, but fine.
You
see the Doctor coming and put down the book you're reading.
"Do
you enjoy swimming?"
"I
do."
"Then
come with me. It may turn out to be a very good day for you, Liam."
Curious,
you follow him out of sickbay and to the holodeck. It opens and you smell
chlorine. "Are you just teasing me?"
"No.
You can swim. Gently, at first. Sidestroke, breast stroke, dog paddle. Nothing
too taxing. I'll be scanning to make sure your system is reacting
appropriately."
You
see a changing room and go into it. The system knows your size and a suit
appears on a hook. You pull it on and walk out to the pool. "Tell me I can
dive."
"Do
it gently."
You
do, and it feels like heaven to be skimming through the water, then rising up
and floating, to feel your body move, no impact, no barriers other than the
soft, warm water. You side stroke—always your favorite stroke—to the end of the
pool. In no hurry, just enjoying getting to know what your body can do when
you're finally allowed to use it.
"Your
vitals are excellent, Liam." He sits and his shoes and socks disappear. He
rolls up his pants, then swings his legs around so they're dangling in the
water.
"Can
you swim?"
"I
can. I'm agnostic as to whether or not it's fun. I think for humans, being in
the water—especially salt water—is the closest you can get to being as I am,
floating unencumbered but for the emitters. A butterfly of ones and
zeroes."
"That
was poetic." You switch to a simple breast stroke, where you leave your
head above water and frog kick and reach easily, moving gently through the
water.
"I
can be. Still excellent. Feel free to try a gentle crawl if you want."
"Still
warming up."
He
laughs and says, "So contrary. How did you ever make captain?"
"By
being really good at what I do. You can get away with a lot if you're the
best—especially if you know how to do shit no one else knows how to do."
"Interesting.
And yes, I can see that."
You
turn at the wall and slip into an easy crawl, head out of the water, which is
not your preference, but it's easier to maintain a gentle rhythm this way. Less
muscle memory than a true crawl.
"Try
it with your head in. You can go faster if you want."
You
put your head in and really pull, drawing yourself forward with each one,
kicking gently so as not to use up too much energy—you can already feel it
flagging.
Jesus,
you used to do fifty laps for fun. Now you've done only a few and you're
getting tired.
You
get to the wall and do a proper turn, dolphin kicking in pure pleasure, popping
up and listening for him to tell you that it was too much but he's still just
sitting, studying his scanner.
You
slow at the next wall, turn into a backstroke and go slowly, winding down.
"Still good?"
"Not
good, excellent." He grins at you.
You
feel the wall coming up and ease into it, leaning against it with arms
stretched out on the side of the pool, holding you in place. "This felt so
fucking good, Doc."
"Good."
He smiles but he's tapping his hand on his knee in a way you're not sure he's
quite aware of. "I need advice, Liam. But it's...it's about your
friend."
"What
the fuck did Ohk do?"
"Oh,
no, it's not like that. She's...well, she's quite wonderful." He kicks the
water a bit. "She asked me if I'd ever consider being on this ship."
You
aren't sure you can speak. Then you get out, "She asked you that?"
He
nods, not seeming to notice your shock. "I'm really enjoying her—she's
bright and lovely and a joy to spend time with. But..."
"But
there's Seven?" You really don't want to hear that.
"Oh,
heavens no. I knew that was over when I saw her face the day you went for your
first walk and she saw the empty bed and assumed you'd died. Why she'd think I
wouldn't apprise her of your demise is beyond me but that's neither here nor
there." He shakes his head. "Then she cried when I told her you were
fine. She has never cried like that. My hopes washed away with her tears."
"And
again with the poetry, Doc."
"Yes,
it's a gift. No, here's my problem, Liam. I really want to explore what Ohk and
I could have but...well, working in sickbay with her is, I think, too much time
together."
You
almost laugh. He's like the male version of her. "I see."
"I
consult for Starfleet Medical but it's mostly done virtually these days. What I
really am passionate about—other than her, of course—are my experiments. I
haven't told Ohk this. I don't know if it will upset her that I need so much
alone time."
"Really
don't think it will." Might keep her on her goddamn toes.
"But
I highly doubt Seven needs another scientist on this ship, or if she does, that
Starfleet wouldn't prefer a non-holographic one."
"Are
you asking me to feel her out about this?"
"Yes."
"Is
that why I got to go swimming? Quid pro quo?"
"Oh,
heavens no. It was time. Ohk has something else for you that I think you'll
like once we get back. This was pretty much a test run for that. I'm so pleased
at how you're doing." He looks anywhere but at you. "If you don't
want to bother her with this, I understand."
"I
guess my question is why don't you want to ask her about it? You did her a huge
favor coming here, getting me stabilized, putting up with me."
"So
true." He gives you a grin that has grown more fond over the time he's
been here.
"I'd
say she owes you. Not a slot, but at least a serious conversation about
it."
"Should
I tell Ohk first that I don't want to work in sickbay?"
"I
would if I were you. I think you might be surprised how she reacts. And she's really
good at getting what she wants so she might be able to help you better craft
your pitch to Seven."
You
would give anything to be a fly on the wall when Ohk finds out he doesn't want
as much together time as she might think he does. Not because it will hurt
her—but because you think it will intrigue her.
"Are
you ready to get out?" he asks. "I'm eager for you to see what we've
come up with."
"Sure."
You actually aren't ready to get out, not if it means getting back into that
biobed. But you do since he's so jazzed about whatever comes next and you get
changed and follow him to sickbay.
Ohk
is studying her padd when you walk in, holding a small device in her other
hand. "Perfect timing. I've tweaked it a little based on the readings from
the holodeck." She looks up at you and smiles as she holds up the device.
"This is your new best friend. May I?"
You
nod and she presses it to the inside of your right forearm, near your wrist;
you can feel it attaching and make a face at the needles poking in, then a rush
of painkiller deadens the area. "Just what I always wanted. An implant of
my very own."
"Give
it a second," the Doctor says.
The
device lights up, all sorts of readouts and other info flitting across the tiny
screen.
"These
are your vitals. We'll be getting a constant stream of them from this just as
we do here from the bed."
"And
this little button"—she points to a red one on the screen—"will call us
if you're ever in trouble and can't get back to sickbay. It will also send us
your location if you are rendered unconscious or are in trouble."
"Define
trouble."
"Pushing
your vitals." The Doctor hits a few buttons that then disappear and a
display that looks like a thermometer appears in their place. "We went
with standard colors except that blue is optimal. Green is fine, orange is
overdoing it and red is unacceptable. It's a visual display so you can monitor
and adjust your own activity. However, if you get too many red-zone
occurrences, we will bring you back here."
You
look at her and she nods so you just stare at the little device, unsure what to
say. You're so tired and you don't feel like wasting energy getting excited if
this is just for you to wear in the fucking biobed.
"I
don't think you're getting the picture, Liam," the Doctor says with a
smile. "You can leave sickbay. You can sleep wherever you want."
"Oh.
Ohhhhhhh."
"And
that lightbulb going off is my cue to exit. He's all yours, my dear." He
hurries off to the deputy's office.
"Oh,
God, the big chicken. I can't believe he left me alone to give you the
talk."
You
laugh. "Well, he and I are starting to bond. I'm sure he doesn't want to
ruin that by telling me I can't have an orgasm, which is exactly what you're
going to tell me, isn't it?"
"Yes.
You can't get too excited period. This scale will help you keep whatever you do
in general, but especially with Seven, in the acceptable level. And I'm not
saying you can't have an orgasm ever again, but for right now no. It's like the
gym, not yet, but you can swim whenever you want."
"So
I'm free to leave and I can be with her and I can get some exercise in the
holo-pool?"
"Yes."
"Wow,
this really is a good day."
"Good,
then you can head out whenever you want."
"Okay
but one more question: I get that I can't have one, but can she?" You hold
up your hand before she can protest. "I'm an engineer. I can approach
things analytically. Make adjustments, ratchet tension up and down, you know,
engineer stuff."
She
bursts out laughing. "And they say romance is dead."
"You're
one to talk. Anyway, so long as I stay in the green and blue, I can give
her as many orgasms as I want, right?"
"Yes.
And you're a gem. I hope she appreciates you."
"I'll
take that as a yes." You pull her in for a hug. "Thank you for taking
such good care of me. I know I'm a pain and I also know you hate to be
hugged."
She
pushes you off. "I really do."
"I
hope you're nicer to him," you say with a wink, giving her every chance to
loop you in on what the Doctor told you.
"He
has no complaints, I assure you."
"Okay
then. I'm going to Seven's room, which is my old room, right? And I bet I'm
still on the door." You frown. "Is that going to be weird. Me just
being there?"
"Liam,
she hasn't changed anything other than to add her clothes and stuff. I was just
in there the other day."
"Oh.
Good." You grab all your stuff from the bed and start packing it up in the
bag Jack brought. "Can I have caffeine yet?"
"No.
Nothing else has changed."
"I
can live with that." You sling the bag over your shoulder and head out
before she or the Doctor can change their minds.
8.
Her
You're
sick of everything Starfleet is making you do now that you're going to be
captain. Some of it is so meaningless—or maybe it's just that they've decided
to compress it since you're going to officially be working on the refit.
Kathryn
is doing her best to keep you and Liam together, so you really shouldn't
complain at how crazy it is right now or how tired you are.
And
you've got the next few days free. You feel like you could sleep through them
all and might start now if Liam wasn't due for an infusion.
Heaven
would be lying down, setting the alarm for half an hour, and napping.
You
palm open your door and stop dead in your tracks.
Liam
is sleeping on the bed—he clearly fell asleep while working because a padd is
lying on his chest. You tiptoe over to him, move the padd to the nightstand,
and study a device that is attached to his right forearm. It has some sort of
scale which is sitting in a blue zone—you assume that's good since he looks so
peaceful and the blue seems to be the lowest value of the scale.
Kicking
your boots off, you ease onto the bed, set the alarm on your padd, and snuggle
in next to him, snaking your arm over his chest. You want to enjoy this
moment—mark it as something to remember years from now—but you're too tired and
you slip into sleep easily.
You
wake to him reaching over you to turn off the alarm.
"Well,
hello," he murmurs, and his mouth is on your hair near your ear, and you
feel as well as hear his voice, so deep, so resonant.
So
alive.
"Hello.
I did not expect to find you here. Did you plot an escape and is Jack involved
in some way?"
He
pulls you with him as he lies back. "I did. Bigggg explosion in sickbay
for diversion. Then he got us horses and rifles and some loot and we rode out
of there like the crazy outlaws we are. The medical sheriffs found me though,
and now I have this house arrest thingamabob." He holds up his arm. The
device is green instead of blue on the scale and a small light is flashing.
"Oh, that's new."
"It's
time for your infusion."
"They
didn't tell me about that. They really should tell you all the features."
You
pull his hand closer so you can study the device. "Did you perhaps run out
before they could finish?"
"No."
He turns so he's on his side, facing you. "And I told you, big explosion,
horses, gunfights in the OK Corral. It was large."
"What
happened to the loot?"
"I'm
lying next to it." His smile is one you've never seen before. So secure,
so at peace, so...tender.
"Well,
the loot is very glad you're here."
"Does
the loot want me to be here all the time or is that too much?"
"Fuck
the loot. What does she know? Do you want to be here all the time?"
"Yeah,
I do."
"Then
it's a good thing I never moved any of your stuff, huh?" You laugh, and
it's a lighter sound than you normally make, and you can see he thinks so too,
by the way his eyes narrow but his smile grows.
"There
is so much to discover, Seven. About you. About us."
"Let's
go get your infusion and then we can start."
He
nods and slides off the bed, and you realize his favorite side is the right and
yours is the left, and that is one discovery already that makes you very happy.
You
both stop to check your hair in the mirror, and he laughs and pulls you to him
for a short but very satisfying kiss. He immediately checks his arm and says,
"Still green." Then he meets your eyes in the mirror. "I should
let you know I'm on a no-orgasm diet at the moment. It goes with my no-gym,
no-caffeine diet."
"I'll
survive until they clear you."
He
gives you a smile you can't read. It's definitely one you haven't seen before.
Then it changes. "Oh, but I can swim. Do you swim?"
"I
learned on Voyager in the holodeck. It seemed prudent to not drown
someday."
"Your
parents never taught you?"
"No."
You look away. "Ready?"
"Yeah.
Sorry, didn't mean to open an old wound."
"You
didn't. They were just...disappointing parents looking back now. I thought I was
lucky when I was a kid, so much adventure. Now...I don't."
"I
completely understand that. But we might never have met if they hadn't been so
fucking reckless. So it's hard to be only sad from this perspective. Does that
make sense?"
You
pull him back to you for another kiss, longer this time, and then immediately
check the scale. It's green but much closer to the orange—probably the tongue
you added and the duration. "You realize they have only given us a
challenge with this."
"Oh,
baby. You have no idea."
Him
You're
still grinning like a fool as you walk out of your quarters and practically run
right into Raffi palming open the quarters across from yours.
"Wow,
there's a sight I haven't seen in a while. You, ambulatory
and...together." She gives you a sort of halfway smile.
"How
was Lucille's?" Seven asks gently.
"Not
as good as you'd expect. But...still fun." Her expression is weird and so
is Seven's.
You're
struck, not for the first time since she brought you back, that Seven could
have this gorgeous creature and wants you instead. You're not sure you get it.
But
you're glad it's true.
"See,
I was right." Seven's voice is still weird.
"You
were. Now maybe I should try Agnes?"
Okay
this is a conversation you really do not understand. But you're not sure you
need to. They're figuring out how to be friends and work together after having
been lovers—it's bound to get weird and you wading into the middle of it is
going to make it even weirder.
"Your
call." Seven smiles up at you. "Ready?"
"It's
time for my nanoprobe infusion." Why are you telling Raffi this?
She
puts her hand gently on your arm. "Relax, Shaw. I'm not going to run you
through just because you were in her quarters with her."
"Okay,
good. Because they're mine too." Jesus, did you have to say that? But her
olive branch is a little bit condescending, so yeah, you think you did.
She
looks at Seven. "Really? You're not going to assign him quarters?"
You
can see Seven's uncertainty, like she's suddenly afraid she might be hurting
reputations—yours though. She's not going to give a flying one about hers at
this point, not after everything she's done to bring you back and make sure
you're together.
You
decide to wade in this time. "We haven't really worked that out yet. I was
just released a bit ago and we fell asleep before we could talk about it."
It's mean to mention the sleep part, but it's also true.
And
if it lets her think the two of you had sex, well, good.
You
see her face fall a little. But this is none of her fucking business when it
comes to your reputation, and Seven's a big girl—if she wants to take the risk,
she can.
"I
just think you really need to take a look at the message you're sending."
She's looking at Seven; it's as if you have ceased to exist.
"I'll
take it under advisement."
You
worry that will sound too harsh, too cold, but Raffi just laughs and then looks
at you. "That's our old way of telling the other to stop pissing on a
really nice parade. So I will."
"Thank
you," Seven says, her voice far gentler. "I think I'm going to take
leave tomorrow. I'm beat."
"And
you've got this guy with you. I don't blame you. I had my play day today, you
should get one too." She gives a smile that includes both of you and goes
into her quarters.
"Well
that wasn't at all awkward," you say once you are well down the corridor.
"I
know. I'm sorry." She stops. "I didn't ask you if you care about your
reputation. The old Shaw was by the book."
"Yeah
but you're writing your own book now, right?" You love using those words
with her.
Her
smile tells you she appreciates it too. "You'll eventually be using the
chief engineer's office for professional meetings but if you want quarters so
you don't feel...trapped, I'll understand."
You
think of how much fun it's been to play games in sickbay. How much they've
indulged you but also how with so few people onboard, you really weren't in the
way. But once the ship is fully staffed you will be. "It's probably a good
idea to have some designated for me—Starfleet is better at looking the other
way if you aren't shoving shit in their face—but I think I'll use them as a
game room."
You're
already envisioning the table you'll design for it.
She
laughs. "I've created a monster with you and Jack." She touches your
hand, not holding it, but bumping against it as you get in the lift. "He
seems a lot happier since he's been spending time with you. So maybe it'll be a
therapy room too."
"There
you go. You're welcome there too. Do you play poker?"
"No."
"But
you know how?"
"Yes.
Ohk told me about your game. That I should come next time. I declined. Besides,
the captain lowers the mood, inhibits things. You, on the other hand, may hear
something I should know." She follows you off the lift. "Raffi loves
poker, though. Maybe include her?"
"I
can do that," you say as you arrive at sickbay, loving that she's being
protective of the woman you both just kind of shut out.
"Ah,
the wanderer returns." The Doctor grins at you and you think he might miss
you a little.
Or
maybe you just miss him and Ohk—you got used to being fussed over. It was weird
but in a nice way.
Her
As
Ohk injects Liam and then sets the timer for the fifteen minute acute
side-effect window, the Doctor murmurs, "If you have a moment,
Seven?"
"Sure."
You follow him into the deputy's office and lean against the desk as he paces.
And
paces.
And
paces.
"What
is it?" you finally ask in the most gentle way you know how. Since the day
you cried in his arms, you have not felt the same kind of interest from him and
you don't feel that now. Something else is up.
He
stops and faces you. "There are so many ways I could approach this. Pitch
it, make a logical case for it, try to fool you into thinking it's your own
idea, but this is you and I, Seven, and I would like to think that we have
trust and understanding between us."
"We
do."
"Then
I'm just going to say it without trying to spin you all over the place first.
Ohk and I are involved."
"I
know. I saw you two kissing."
"Oh."
His grin is both adorable and you can tell unintentional. "She is an
excellent kisser."
"Good
to know."
"She
would like me to stay on the ship with her. I would very much like to stay on
the ship with her. Not as part of sickbay, but as part of your science crew. I
have a number of experiments I'm working on that could easily translate to the
ship—might, in fact, work better on a ship since we would have the ability to
field test some of them."
"What
kind of experiments?"
"Well,
you know me. I have any number of interests and loads of time. Some are
enhancements to the way we deploy temporary holoemitters outside of the
holodeck. Some are related to field medicine. Some are medical equipment I wish
I'd had in the Delta Quadrant. And then there are odd ones. I have one where
I've created a new variety of rose." He can't meet your eyes on that one.
"Oh
my God, did you name it the Annika or something?"
"Fortunately
I did not get that far. But yes, I probably would have."
"Is
it ready to go? I mean could I take a bouquet of it to Kathryn from you?"
"Why
would you want to..." His eyebrow goes up. "Ohhhh. Your fairy
godmother when it comes to approving all of these irregular assignments."
"Yes.
Call it the Janeway."
He
considers—and you love that he won't do it just to get what he wants.
"It's a fiery red. It was your favorite color." He smiles sheepishly.
"It
was." When you were a child. It's not anymore though. But he doesn't need
to know that.
You
wonder if Liam knows your favorite color.
"It
has the most delicate black tips. That was for the Borg in you."
"Poetic.
And it sounds lovely."
He
pulls out a padd and calls up a picture. It is not just lovely, it's a red you
don't think you've ever seen.
"Wow."
"Yes.
I know. I think she would gravitate toward it, don't you? And that the name
would be appropriate?"
"Very
Arachnia."
"Indeed.
May I ask what you're going to ask for as far as a slot?"
"You're
a civilian, technically." Which is worlds better than the property
Starfleet once considered him. "So I just need approval for bringing
aboard an independent contractor in life sciences. Do you need quarters?"
"Ohk
doesn't think so."
"What
if you two don't make it? Or you just need time apart."
He
taps his emitter. "I need a lab more than I need a bed, Seven. And I'd
like it to be a dedicated one so if I do need time to restore myself, I can do
it there."
"And
you don't want anyone fucking with your work."
And
that."
"Okay.
Get me some roses and I'll see what I can do. But..don't do it today or
tomorrow. I'm on leave."
His
smile is very gentle. "Yes, I imagine you are." But then his look
turns stern. "You understand the limitations Liam has?"
"Stay
in the blue or green? No orgasms. No gym but swimming is okay. Same dietary
restrictions."
"Yes.
Good. Well, then, don't do anything I wouldn't do. Now, let me go see how our
patient is doing." He gives you a silly grin and goes out to talk to Ohk
and Liam.
You
listen to them, how happy they all sound and you love the idea of him on your
ship. Voyager was your family and you've never had another real once
since you left it. Maybe now you can have one again—one you have built
yourself.
The
alarm sounds and you join them as Liam slips off the biobed. "Until
tomorrow, mes amis." He looks at you, gives you a gorgeous smile.
You
put your hand on his upper back as you walk out, and murmur, "I'm still on
duty for a while and I'm so hungry. Want to go to the mess with me?"
"Are
you asking me out on a date, Captain?"
"I
am, Captain."
"Well,
yes. I'd love that. Hell, I'd probably go with Picard if it meant not eating
replicator food in sickbay."
You
slug his arm. "Way to take the romance out."
He
just laughs as he wraps his arm around you and pulls you in closer. "I
know. I suck. But you knew that when you brought me back from the dead."
Several
crew members walk by and you get a few looks. Good. The rumor mill will have
this all over the ship, even if it hasn't been announced that he's going to be
Chief Engineer. People will have plenty of time to get used to the idea of you
two being together.
You've
been open with Kathryn too. You expected her to push back but she only shook
her head and rolled her eyes. But then you know she would have been with
Chakotay in the Delta Quadrant—rules be damned—if she hadn't been so afraid
he'd interfere with her drive to get others home. She would never have traded
their futures for her happiness.
But
she and Chakotay are together now. So it turned out all right.
"Hello?
Booth or table?" He's grinning at you.
"Booth."
"Good
choice. Can we act like teenagers and sit on the same side?"
"We
cannot." There's a limit to what you'll do in public.
"Yeah,
also a good choice." He leads you to a booth and tucks in to the breakfast
he's opted for. "Replicator eggs never taste right."
"Agreed."
You concentrate on the sandwich you've chosen, then ask, "Do you know what
my favorite color is?"
"Orange."
He doesn't even have to think. "Yellow's pretty close though. What's
mine?"
"Light
gray. You also like navy."
"You're
not wrong." He grins. "Why?"
"The
Doctor created a rose. For me, originally, but he's now going to call it the
Janeway so I can get him on the ship."
"Oh,
he talked to you about that?"
"Yes,
for a science position. An independent contractor, I think. You knew he wanted
to stay?"
"Maybe."
You
again think how useful he will be—how people seem to gravitate toward him for
advice and assistance. "Anyway, it's red—that was my favorite color as a
kid."
"Yeah,
mine was Kelly green but then you grow up Irish in Chicago and that happens.
Good thing my family's not religious or orange might be a problem."
You
laugh, understanding the reference. "And yellow? Is that a potential
problem?"
"Nope
and yellow's the first color the eye notices. Not that someone isn't going to
notice you in whatever color you choose to wear." He reaches across the
table and you take his hand. "Have I told you how beautiful you are?"
You
shake your head.
"I
remember our first weekly dinner. You were nervous at first, but then you
relaxed and you smiled and you laughed, and I knew right then I was in so much
trouble. It's been downhill since." He makes the sound of a shuttle
crashing.
You
laugh. "How is it now, though? I mean obviously death was the low point of
that curve but...?"
"I'm
glad you brought me back. I mean that, Seven. I know I've been less than
gracious at times, but I really am glad you brought me back."
You
can't hold back the smile and he shakes his head and says, "There you go
again, with that gorgeous smile." He squeezes your hand then lets go and
goes back to eating. "When did you know you were in trouble?"
"That
same night. I really was so nervous. My hands were sweating and I kept wiping
them on my pants. But you were so kind and so helpful and you have those eyes
and that face and...that brain. That beautiful, quick brain that could actually
keep up with me in ways no one has for quite a while."
"So
you don't love me for my body?"
"I'm
sure your body will be a wonderful thing, but I haven't seen that much of
it." You're rarely in the gym, preferring to work out in the holodeck with
something violent. "Why wouldn't you call me Seven of Nine? If you
cared?"
"Exactly
why—because I did. Well, and you registered under your human name so that was
going to cause all kinds of potential problems in an emergency. But mostly I
couldn't afford to think of you that way. And you have a great poker face and
we fought constantly. I didn't think you felt that way for me. So I had to hide
what I was feeling from you. I didn't want to make you feel
uncomfortable."
"So
instead you hurt me with my old name."
"I
didn't say it makes a lot of sense. Although at the time it did to me."
"And
you're stubborn. Once you decided I was Hansen, I was."
"Like
you're not stubborn?" He laughs gently. "Give me a fucking break,
Hansen." His eyes are gleaming with mischief as he calls you that.
"Someday
I'm going to make you pay for that."
"Or..."
He's grinning so much now it makes you laugh. "I could make it up to you
much sooner than that. I mean I know you're on duty but do you really need to
sit the chair in space dock? The correct answer is no, if you haven't gotten to
that in your captain's courses."
"And
what are you going to do that isn't going to send that thing"—you point to
his wrist—"into the orange zone."
"You."
You
feel an immediate heat rush over you, a tingle way down low.
"Slowly.
Methodically as fuck—my goal is to see if I can stay blue while I'm making you
come. It's good to have goals—we start to atrophy when we don't."
You
are staring at him. "They cleared you for this?"
"So
long as it stays blue or green. I'm really glad you took leave." His eyes
seem to have darkened, his look so intense he is taking your breath away.
You
grab his arm to see the color. Green. You believe your readings would be well
in the orange if you were wearing a similar device.
"You
okay, baby?" He frowns. "Do you hate that endearment?"
"I
do not."
"Good.
The question stands. You look a little flushed." His smile is terrible, a
bratty little boy. It's not a look you've seen much and you really, really like
it.
"I
could be better." You push your plate away.
"Yeah?
Well, I'm not done eating yet." He's chewing excruciatingly slowly.
"Finish your sandwich."
"You're
getting very bossy."
"Is
that a turn off?"
You
pull your plate back and take a bite.
"I'll
take that as a no."