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 2)
by Djinn
9.
Him
You
take her hand as you walk back to your quarters. You keep glancing at your arm,
making sure that the anticipation you feel is not manifesting in orange or red.
Nice
solid green.
She
squeezes your hand as she also checks the device. "Everything's
okay."
"Yep."
You pull her to you in the lift, brushing her hair off her shoulders, studying
her, until the lift stops and you ease apart and exit. "Can I ask you
something?"
"You
can ask me anything, Liam."
"A
couple nights you came down to sickbay in kind of a panic. Is there something
going on you haven't told me?"
She
palms open the door and pulls you into a hug. "I was having nightmares that
by saving you with nanoprobes I'd turned you into a Borg. You were not happy
about it."
"What
did I do? Assimilate you extra hard?"
"You
killed me. Stabbed me with the assimilation tube. Right through the heart.
Where you were shot."
"Jesus,
Seven."
"Aren't
you glad you asked?" She pulls you to her and kisses you very tenderly.
"I called Agnes, made sure the nanoprobes—since they are different—won't
make you Borg. They won't. I was just..."
"Finally
feeling the effects of your unilateral decision to make me a modern-day
Lazarus?" You kiss her to take the sting out.
"Can
we lie down?"
"Of
course."
She
waits until you're settled before climbing onto the bed and curling into you.
"I think it's more than what I did to bring you back. It's that you
wouldn't be dead if I hadn't gone behind your back. If I hadn't betrayed you.
In the dream, you say, 'You did this to me.' And I did."
"Have
you had the nightmare since you talked to Agnes?"
"I
just talked to her this morning. But my nap was nightmare free."
"Well,
hey. There you go." You sigh and kiss her forehead, wanting to comfort her
but unsure how. She did betray you. You did die. How she deals with that is her
own journey—her own trauma. But— "Maybe find someone to talk to about
this?"
She
strokes your cheek. "I don't do well in therapy, Liam. I usually just go
into a holodeck, find the scariest program, and kill all the fucking
monsters."
"That
works too." You lie in silence for a moment, content to just hold her,
then ask, "Which programs?"
"Demon's
Lair is really satisfying."
"It
is but have you tried the Battle of Cormandy? It's so kitsch, but it's really
fun." When she shakes her head, you say, "Maybe we could play it
together. I love those things."
"I'd
like that. But not until..."
"Yeah,
yeah, yeah. Me and my limitations." You push her gently so she's lying on
her back. "I'm going to take this slow. Clothes may not come off because
I'm not sure I'm capable of seeing you fully naked and not hitting red."
She
laughs.
"But
I might be doing other things that you'd think should wait for a second
date."
"How
many dinners did we have over the last two years?"
"Good
fucking point. We're like on our hundredth date. And now I'm the slowest moving
man in the universe when it comes to sex."
She
pulls you to her, kissing you in a manner you can only call playful. It's
delightful and when you pull away, she says, "You amuse me. You always
make me laugh even when I force myself to swallow it. I have nearly injured
myself trying to remain impassive after some of our better jokes."
"Which
is what makes you the perfect straight woman."
"I'm
bi."
"I'll
explain that term later. When I'm not interested in seeing how you react to
other things." You run your fingers down her face, barely touching down,
tracing her lips, then kissing just as gently, here and there. All while
glancing at your arm every so often.
Green
as the Chicago River on Saint Paddy's Day.
She
pulls your arm up as if she's not sure to trust you to stop. "Your control
is impressive. I feel...I feel good."
"I
feel good too. Just a very zen good. This may end up being really beneficial
for me. Tantric even."
"Chakotay
had a book of tantric positions. There were pulled muscles as a result."
You
chuckle, nuzzling her neck. "I think you crazy kids were doing it wrong.
Or was it the Kama Sutra? We're going for something a little less vigorous.
Something that doesn't require a half hour of stretching before hand."
"Ah."
"Bear
with me. I just want to test the waters." You ease your hand under her
pants and underwear, down and down until you can dip in. "You are so
wet." You begin to play.
"And
that feels so good. But there is a problem with this approach."
"You
mean that I'm right handed and they put the goddamned device on that arm?"
"Yes,
I can't let you do this if we can't watch the device."
"That
is some dedication to my continued survival, Seven. Your solution?" You
slip your hand out to see what she does.
With
a very lascivious grin, she checks the chrono, says, "I'm off the clock.
Deal with my half nakedness." And proceeds to push everything on her lower
half down around her ankles.
She
grabs your arm and says, "Your tantric mastery is failing. It's
orange."
"Of
course it's orange. You're goddamned gorgeous."
"Lie
back and think of non sexual things." She grabs your face. "If you
fail to regain green and leave me in this state, I will lock you in the
bathroom while I finish myself."
"My
god you're a bitch." But you're laughing as you say it and the device
shows green. "Wow, super effective."
"Arguing
and ultimatums are somewhat of a steady state for us. I thought it might bring
equilibrium."
"God
damn I love you." You lie back down next to her, pulling her leg closer to
you as you loop yours over it to hold her where you want her. "I mean
that. I really do love you."
"I
love you too. Show me you can get to blue. I need to know I won't hurt you.
That dream..."
"Baby
you're not going to hurt me."
"Show
me blue."
So
you put your head down on the pillow, bury your head in her hair, and just
breathe. Then you pull away and look for five things you can see: her eyes,
shining bright. Her lips. Her hair. The pillow, same sheets you used. The
chrono.
Four
things to feel: her body moving next to you as she shifts, the softness of the
sheets, the way her breath on you makes your skin shiver, the way her leg lies
easily under yours.
Three
things you can hear: the soft in and out of her breath, the low hiss of the air
handlers, the tick of the chrono you bought because you thought it was
beautiful in all it's mechanical glory.
Two
things you can smell: her soft spicy perfume and the faint residue of your
cologne on the sheets—did she not change them since you died? You love that.
One
thing you can taste: you hold up your arm and show Seven the lovely blue on the
dial from this simple coping mechanism your therapist gave you for anxiety after
Wolf 359. Then you take the fingers that were inside her and lick them, tasting
her on them. The dial shoots up to green but holds steady.
And
she tastes delicious.
"Impressive."
"May
I proceed now?"
"Yes,
please."
"When
you aren't obsessively checking the dial, I want you to look in my eyes while
I'm doing this. I want you to look in my eyes while you come. I want you to be
as loud as you want, say whatever the fuck you feel like—except someone else's
name 'cause that really sucks."
She
laughs.
"Do
you understand me, Hansen?" You know your grin is a nasty one—and you want
it to be because it seemed to make her happy when you did it in the mess.
"I
understand you, dickhead."
You
can't help it; she busts you up with that one. You bury your head in her hair
again laughing until you feel ready to proceed.
"Sorry,"
she whispers.
"Don't
ever be sorry for being funny. And hey, if you can't laugh while you're having
sex, then I think you're doing it wrong. It's supposed to be fun."
She
pulls you down and kisses you, long and with a lot of tongue. Then she checks
your arm again. "Still green. Damn. Do you think Ohk would give me one of
these? For comparison purposes?"
"This
is not a competition. And do you want all your readings going to sickbay?"
"Oh,
no. They could turn the data stream off, though. It could just capture the
moment."
"Hansen,
do you want to come or don't you?"
"Fine,
proceed." But she is grinning.
You
press down on her leg and tell her, "Try to move your leg."
"I
could if I hurt you."
You
roll your eyes. "Try to move your leg without hurting the man who's going
to pleasure you silly."
She
moves and you adjust a bit so she's truly immobilized, if only that leg.
"I can't."
"Okay,
good." You pull back, spreading her leg even more and she moans.
"Look
at me, Seven."
She
does and her mouth is open slightly, her breath faster than it was, her pupils
dilating as you watch her. You check your scale—almost orange so you take some
deep, from the belly, breaths until it's closer to blue.
Then
you rest your head next to hers, kiss her gently, and begin to play.
She
is even wetter than before.
More
deep breathing. Then you stay relaxed, trying to approach this like you would a
new engine. Finding out how she works, what touches work where, how much is too
much, how much not enough, cataloging and improvising, and adding fingers as
she alternates between checking the scale and looking back at you.
You
can see when the climb starts—you think before she does. Her eyes widen and she
says, "Liam."
"I've
got you." And you pull her leg just a little bit further out.
And
she's gone, arching and crying out and she completely forgets about looking at you
while she's coming, but it's her first time with you so you don't remind her to
meet your eyes.
She's
breathing hard and pulls your hand up; the dial is still green. "God damn
it."
"Do
you not want me to do this?"
"How
can you stay so calm?"
"Discipline,
Hansen. You may have heard of it? What happened, by the way, to looking at me
when you came?"
"Fuck
you."
"Well,
just for that, we're going to find out how short your refractory period is. I
assume you have one? Most women do—things get over-sensitive for some. Is that
true for you?"
"Touch
my clit directly and die."
"Clear
and to the point. I appreciate that."
You
dip your fingers into her, one, then two, in and out, then pulling back up,
circling around, never touching where she is oversensitized. "Eyes,
Seven."
"Fuck
you and the eye thing. I'm going to get a crick in my neck."
"Look
me in the goddamn eyes and do not look away this time. I won't always make you,
I just want you to this time."
She
pouts and you bring your hand up and paint her lips with her own juices, then
kiss her. She pulls your hand up and sighs at the green.
"Baby,
the only way I got through the aftermath of Wolf 359 was to cultivate control.
Stillness. Push the feelings down and down. I promise you, once they clear me,
I will not be so calm. Just enjoy it for now."
You
trail your finger down, back inside her, then around, then...there. She is looking
at you and the trust and sensuality in her eyes is warring with something else
that you think is just pure enjoyment.
"You're
going to come for me again. And I'm going to love watching you, knowing it's me
getting you there, touching you, loving you." You go harder, more
directly, and she gasps but she doesn't look away. A few more and she's crying
out, arching, holding your gaze until she has to close her eyes.
Her
leg under yours is shaking and you release it, rubbing her skin gently where
your uniform chafed it a bit when she was moving under you.
She
rolls into you and you wrap her up in your arms. "That felt so fucking
good, Liam." She goes limp and you can tell she is still really tired.
"Why
don't we sleep for a while?"
She
looks panicked. "Did you overdo it? Did I hurt you?"
"Hey,
no. I just can tell you're beat."
"I
am. I'm so tired. But...we—"
"We
are right here, doing all these first things. We had a nap, and we had a date
or our latest one, however we're counting them. We just touched and kissed and
no one told us to stop. And now we can have our first time taking turns in the
bathroom getting out of these uniforms and into something more comfortable. And
then we can go to sleep together and wake up and do more of this if you want,
or talk, or just stare at each other like two sappy ass romantics."
"The
last one sounds boring."
"I
agree. But it makes the first two sound so much more fun."
"Anything
with you is fun. Even boring things."
"You're
so tired you aren't making sense."
"No,
Liam, I mean that." She pulls you to her for a long kiss.
"Just...having you here. I don't take that for granted."
"I
wish...I wish I had known how much you cared. You haven't even changed the
sheets, have you?"
"No
I wanted to sleep where you had."
"Every
night from now on if you want." Although you're refreshing the sheets as
soon as you think it won't gut her emotionally to have fresh linen.
"I
want." Her voice is off, full of emotion, and you realize this is the true
Seven, the deepest part of her. "I love you. I'd die for you. I'd
definitely kill for you."
"Just
smile for me. Make me smile. You know how I get."
"I
do." Her eyes are looking heavier and heavier. "And you know how I
get."
You
undress her slowly, not trying to make this sexy time, just trying to save her
from getting out of bed when she's so tired.
You
have to stop when you take her jacket, then top and bra off. Your dial is in
the orange and she smiles, her eyes half lidded, and says, "You like what
you see."
"I
fucking love what I see." You pull the covers down and then cover her up
once she's crawled inside. "Do you need anything from the bathroom while
I'm up?"
"My
lip balm."
"Okay,
babe." You get up and find everything exactly where you left it. Some of
her things are on the counter now too. But she has surprisingly little, and
she's very neat. You find the lip balm and take it out to her before she falls
asleep.
She
puts it on and you try not to let the flow of it over her lips get to you, but
everything she's doing right now is so damn sexy.
You
look around for five things you see that are not her and her glorious face and
body. The dial crawls down to green.
She
hands you back the lip balm and you resolve to order her more so she can keep
one in the nightstand and she'll probably want one at her desk in the ready
room.
You
brush your teeth and when you're done in the bathroom, you join her in bed, not
naked because you think that skin on skin will send you right into the red.
Your pajama bottoms are still hanging on the back of the bathroom door so you
slip them on and the concert t-shirt also hanging there, and join her in bed.
You
get comfortable and say "Computer, lights off." It goes dark and a moment
later she rolls to her side, cuddling into you.
You
like how you two fit. You like the warmth of her.
Oh,
fuck, you like everything about her. You are so fucking gone.
Sleep
comes easily; you dream of her.
10.
Her
You
wake up on your side, facing the chrono, Liam behind you, spooning you. You
can't believe you've both slept clear through the evening until morning, but
you know you've been so worried about him and he probably found it a relief to
be out of sickbay.
You
put your hand over his arm and forget how to breathe. His arm is not warm.
Turning it, you stare at the device. He's not green or blue. He's...nothing.
All the lights are off.
"Liam!"
You roll and see him staring sightlessly at you, the same way he did on the
deck of the cargo bay. You shake him and scream, "Liam!"
"Hansen!"
sounds right in your ear. "Wake the fuck up!"
You're
breathing hard when you come awake and you grab his arm and wrench it over so
you can see the device. It's green but heading toward orange.
But
he's alive.
Your
breathing though—you can't catch your breath and you feel lightheaded.
"Seven,
look at me." He puts his hands on either side of your face and forces you
to meet his gaze. "I'm here. I'm going to take care of you." He takes
one hand off your face and puts it on your belly. "I want you to take deep
slow breaths from here, make my hand move when you do it, don't breathe from
your chest."
You
do what he says because he was your captain and he always knows what to do.
"I can't feel my hands."
"It's
okay, baby. That's temporary. Just breathe. Just breathe."
He's
breathing with you so you follow him, breathing in time, feeling his hand go up
and down as your belly fills and deflates. You can feel your hands again, and
your head isn't so light. "What's happening?"
"Did
you have the same nightmare?"
"I
wish." You start to breathe funny again and he pushes down on your stomach
while saying, "From here. Slow, deep. You're hyperventilating."
"I
don't do that."
"Yeah,
yeah you do." He moves his hand up to your head, giving you a scalp
massage and then moving to your neck. "Keep deep breathing."
After
about five minutes of him doing that and you concentrating on your breath, you
finally feel normal.
"What
was the dream?"
"I
woke up, it was morning, we'd slept through." You check the chrono and
it's only midnight. "You were spooning me but your skin wasn't warm. I
looked at the device and there was no color. No light. And then I turned and
you were staring at me like you did on the cargo bay after you... But you were
dead."
He
closes his eyes and wraps you in his arms. "You need to talk to
someone."
"They'll
just want to talk about my crappy parents and my fucked up life as a Borg and
my weird-ass relationship with Kathryn and Chakotay and the Doctor, and then
not getting into Starfleet until late—and betraying you."
"Maybe
you need to talk about those things."
"I'm
fine."
"You're
not fine. You're light years from fine. You shut me down today when I asked if
your parents taught you to swim."
You
start to get up, to get away from him, but he pulls you back down, not gently,
and says, "Either you sign yourself up for therapy—we shouldn't see the
same person but I can give you a person that a friend went to who's
wonderful—or I'm going to Ohk and she will relieve you."
You
stare at him stunned.
"Seven,
I love you. I would die a thousand times to keep you safe. So how can I not
make you do this? You are not all right. Trauma builds: you're fine and you're
fine until you're not."
"Maybe
you shouldn't be here." You can feel tears starting and dash them away.
"Is
that what you really want? To send me away after falling to pieces over a dream
where I died?"
"I
got you killed."
"No,
no you fucking didn't." He takes you by the arms and shakes you a bit.
"You helped a friend. You betrayed me in the process. But the minute that
I heard it was Picard's son I made a choice. And that was to help them. And
then I made a choice to run when it was clear that things were beyond fucked
up. We went to hell but you didn't send us there. Fate did. Or God. Or the
Universe. For whatever reason, we were there to save Starfleet. I died. You did
not kill me. And you turned your fucking back on an active shooter to hold me,
Seven. That's when this started. When you no longer cared if you lived or
died."
You
can feel the tears coming, and he pulls you to him and onto his lap, and holds
you and tells you it will all be all right. His lips are on your cheek and your
hair and your hands, and you push you face so hard into his chest you'd go
inside him if you could. "Please tell me you'll get help. Please don't
make me go to Ohk."
"Give
me your padd."
He
reaches for the padd, finds the number, then hands it to you.
You
call the after-hours line. They are nice and supportive and you have an
appointment at 0800 with the doctor Liam recommended by the time you cut the
connection. "So much for leave. So much for spending time with you."
"You'll
be with them for fifty minutes. Then you come back to me. You always come back
to me because I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. But I need to know you're okay.
I can't have you blaming yourself for choices I made too."
You
wrap your arms around him and whisper, "I've never allowed myself to care
this much. You snuck in because I didn't think you wanted me, so I fell in love
thinking it was safe. And then you were gone but we'd had...moments,
right?"
"Yes.
We did."
"And
now I love you in ways I wouldn't give Raffi and couldn't give Chakotay. And it
scares the shit out of me. You said I was brave but I'm not."
"Yes,
you are. You could have left me dead, where it would have been sad but safe for
you. But you said fuck that to me being dead. I'm bringing this dipshit
back."
You
laugh softly.
"And
that was brave, Seven. That was really fucking brave."
"And
reckless."
"Well,
that goes without saying. It's you." He laughs in the gentlest way.
"What do you need from me right now? Do you want to try to sleep? Is
making love to you going to help or undo you more?"
"Okay,
I'm really embarrassed I'm picking option three."
"Oh,
you want the sappy eye staring thing?" He urges you down and cuddles far
enough away so you can see each other well but not so far you can't touch,
can't lean in to kiss.
You
study his face, reach out and trace his cheeks. "You're so beautiful,
Liam. And you're mine."
"I
am yours. Body and soul, Seven. I will destroy anyone who tries to hurt
you."
"Including
me. What if I'd kicked you out?"
"Then
I'd have been very sad as I walked down to tell Ohk. I have to do what's right for
you, not just as the woman I love but as my colleague, as my former
subordinate, as my superior officer now. And as my friend."
You
nod, loving him for being braver than you in this. "I wish I had something
good to offer you."
"Seven,
I was alone. I have friends, sure. But I was like you. I kept everyone out.
Until you snuck in because I thought for sure you were not interested in me.
You're beautiful, and you keep up with me and give me shit right back. You know
what I need before I say it. You have great ideas that make me wonder why I
didn't think of those solutions. And you're kind. The bridge crew love
you."
"They
love you too." You can feel your eyes closing.
"What
time do you want to get up?"
"0700."
You can see he doesn't think that's enough time but you don't plan on
showering. Let the doctor see you as you are.
"Computer,
set alarm for 0700."
"Alarm
set."
"Thank
you for taking care of me." You lean in and kiss him very, very gently.
"I
will always take care of you."
Him
You
wake with Seven, and then wander down to sickbay once she is gone. Ohk sees you
but you wave her back into her seat saying, "I need the Doctor."
"Oh,
sure, throw me over for him." She winks at you. "He's in Lab
Four."
You
walk down there and palm in, see him working at a terminal.
He
turns and smiles. "How are you?"
"I'm
good. Seven said you talked to her?"
He
nods. "It went well. I opted for honesty."
"Usually
a good policy. I wanted to tell you that once it's approved, we can set up your
lab the way you'd like. With holoemitters and some important failsafes—you know
for in case the whole crew is incapacitated by gas or boarding enemies and it's
up to you to save the day."
"Still
holding on to the changeling attack, I see."
"Hard
to forget. I lost a dear friend in that."
"I'm
sorry."
"Look,
I didn't pop in to bring you down. I wanted to tell you that once you're
approved, we'll make sure the lab is how you really need it. You
know...yours."
"Thank
you, Liam." He looks touched.
"Yeah.
Just didn't want you to think you have to work with what's there. We're
refitting a shit-ton of stuff, why not the lab you end up taking?" You
wander around the space some more.
"Liam,
I know you're sincere about customizing my lab, but I'd hardly expect you to
interrupt your time with Seven to come tell me that."
"Oh,
she got called to a meeting."
"Oh,
well, good. I thought there was trouble in paradise."
"Nope."
You allow a smile to show, the kind that would have gone with the first part of
the night, the sexy part.
"Good
for you. And all without triggering your device."
"She's
gonna want one. So she can see what her vitals do."
"She
is very competitive."
"What
else do I need to know about her? That you, over the years with her, do
know?"
"Liam,
I actually think you already know her better than I do. I knew the girl we
rescued from the collective. She was a woman by age but emotional maturity,
life experience, she was a teen at best. She had lost so much and since then
she has continued to lose things she loves. And I wasn't there for her when she
lost the most important thing—her son."
You
frown. You have not heard of this son.
"Not
a biological son. A former Borg like her, rescued at a much younger age. Seven
raised him."
Something
you eventually need to get her to tell you about. But not right now; she does
not need you pulling deep shit like that out of her when she's just starting
the work. "What's the most important thing to her?"
"I
don't know anymore. Other than you, my friend."
You
take a deep breath—you had to fall in love with a woman more complicated than
yourself. But you keep your voice light. "Well, I love her so that works
out well."
"I
know you do." He cocks a head. "Is she all right?"
You
meet his eyes, you let yours tell him that maybe not but you say, "Yeah,
of course she is."
His
eyes show perfect receipt of your very mixed message. "She's strong.
She'll be fine."
Only
if she ends up saying anything to the therapist. You know people who go but
then clam up for the whole session. You can lead a traumatized person to
therapy, but you can't make them speak.
Her
You
leave the therapist feeling lighter. Maybe the Doctor was right: a secret
shared is a burden halved.
You
stop at a fancy deli and splurge for a picnic lunch, wicker basket and checked
blanket and all. You get a bottle of Malbec that the man helping you says is
new and really good, and you head back up to the ship.
You
find Liam at your desk, working on his padd, and he looks up, clearly studying
your expression, then breaks into a slow smile. "It helps to talk, doesn't
it?"
"I
didn't think it would. But knowing you did it, how private you are, how still
and controlled, it made it okay for me to go."
He
gets up and walks to you, kissing you very gently but very thoroughly.
"And the picnic basket?"
"You
have fun in the water when you swim, right?"
"I
love it."
"I
never do. Can we make a fun pool with a lawn around it and have a picnic?"
"Is
the holodeck open?"
"It
is. Everyone's gone so it's wide open. I checked before I got the picnic stuff
and booked it for a couple hours. But if you're busy...?"
"I
am not busy. I was just killing time till you got back."
You
put the basket down and go into his arms, holding his face, kissing him way
more passionately than is probably good but he's in the green zone every time
you check. "Thank you for caring enough about me to risk this for my
sake—for my health."
"Thank
you for going. It's going to be hard sometimes. Things come up when you talk
that you won't even know are as big a problem as they really are until suddenly
you're crying."
"Oh,
I already had that experience. Twice." She laughs. "And we didn't
even get off the Raven."
"I
know. I had some stuff with a cousin. It was such a small thing but I carried
it for so long it's like it earned interest."
She
laughs. "I understand that. I really do."
"Let's
go swimming."
You
nod and let him take the basket and lead you to the holodeck. Once you're
inside he calls up the standard pool and begins to modify it.
"Have
you been to Tuscany?"
"No."
"Tuscany
it is."
Around
you the inside of the pool room changes to an outdoor pool surrounded by lush
hills and tall trees and lovely villas. the grass goes nearly up to the pool's
edge.
"You
want a special shape?" He seems to see you have no idea so he says,
"I've got it," and starts changing things. The pool suddenly has a
hot tub next to it, then he adds huge rocks with a waterfall and a slide.
"There's a grotto underneath the rocks." His grin is a little bit
wicked.
He
puts lawn chairs around, adds a natural soundtrack of songbirds.
You
take it all in and nod approval. "If it's too much I understand, but I'd
like us to do this naked."
He
laughs. "You did lock the door, right?"
"Double
check."
He
does. You did.
"Naked
it is. If we go to red, we'll put on swimsuits."
You
slowly take your clothing off, trying not to make it sexy. You just want to
have fun with him, skin to skin. And you want to see him. You want to see this
body he seems concerned about.
You
turn to see he is standing naked and your mouth drops open. "Our uniforms
hide way too much good stuff." You keep your expression sweet and playful.
"Pretend we're kids. Pretend this is joyful us not the remnants of the
fucking Borg end of the world that almost was."
He
grins. "I'll try. It's hard though."
"It
is." You know you're no longer just playful, but one part of him is
standing at attention and he's proportioned in a way you think will bring you
extreme pleasure when he's finally allowed to participate in the orgasms.
"May I?" Your hand hovers over him.
"Oh,
fuck, Seven. I don't know."
"Breathe
from your belly." You turn his arm so you can see the dial. It is almost
orange but not quite. "I'm not doing this to turn you on. I want to get to
know you. And this is part of you. Breathe, Liam. Deep breaths." You put
your hand on his belly, just above, pressing hard, letting him get used to the
feel of you. "You're beautiful," you say as you slide down, around
him, gripping lightly, getting to know how thick, how long.
"Breathe."
"Fuck,
Seven."
"What
were you doing when you went to blue last night. You were doing something in
your head."
"Five
things I see." He closes his eyes. "You, you, you, you, you."
You
laugh and lean into him, still holding and kiss him very gently, lips closed,
holding against him, body to body, your breasts on his chest. "That's not
all."
"Four
things I feel: you, you, you, you."
He's
playing around but the scale is backing away from orange toward blue.
You
keep your grasp on him loose, and run your other hand down his arm. "Your
arms are lovely."
"I
work hard for them." He looks down at your hand clasped around him and
says, "Three things I hear: water falling off the rocks, birds, my heart
beating in my ears."
You
take his hand and lay it gently on your breast. He seems to realize you want
him to let you guide his hand. You pinch two fingers around your nipple and he
immediately goes to orange.
"Two
things I smell. Fuck. Think, Liam. Fuck."
"New
mown grass."
"Yes.
And your perfume. God I love your perfume."
He's
too close to orange.
"One
thing I taste." He pulls you to him, your hands still around him, his
fingers around you, and he kisses you, opening your mouth with his tongue, but
then going almost still, the movements between your tongues gentle and
exploratory, not passionate anymore. He eases away. "I taste you. You
taste fantastic."
He's
still in green. You smile up at him and let him go and he lets you go and you
hug him, pressed against him as much as you can be, and he crushes you to him
and says, "You're amazing."
"No,
you are."
"We're
amazing together then."
"That
I'll buy." You point to the pool. "Show me how it's fun."
"Can
you dive?"
You
nod so he dives in and you follow. He takes your hand and brings you under the
waterfall and to the grotto, where there are benches under the water against
the walls and he sits you on one and kisses you.
It's
the perfect height, the part of him you just got to know so well is pressing
right against your opening and you meet his eyes in concern.
"Shhhh,
just breathe," he says as he pushes in, just a little. He's watching the
gauge carefully, and he says, "Five things you see, Seven."
"Beautiful
lights under the water, drops of water splashing onto the rock, the man I love,
a curtain of water protecting us, a place you made for me."
He's
green again. He pushes in a little more. "Four things you feel."
"You
inside me, the water caressing my skin, the warm humidity of the air in this
grotto, the mist coating my face."
He
kisses you, slowly, so slowly, and then pushes in just a little more.
"Three things you hear."
"Your
voice, so dear to me, the water falling into the pool"—you lay your head
against his chest, over where he was shot—"your heartbeat. Sure and
strong."
He
looks at the gauge. It's green again. You're being careful not to squeeze down
in any way. You know he doesn't want to come, he just wants to be inside you.
"We
can do whatever you think is best, Liam. No expectations. But I love the
feeling of you inside me. I can't wait for when we're free."
"We're
free now. We're just choosing to be cautious."
You
nod.
And
then he slowly pushes in the rest of the way and you throw your head back and
moan. It takes everything you have not to bear down, to squeeze and move.
"Two
things you smell."
You
bury your face in his neck. "Right here, you smell so good, but I don't
think it's scent—I mean it's not perfume, it's your scent. And I smell a musty
rock smell from the boulders."
He
has his eyes closed and he's breathing deeply. "I have to pull out."
"Okay."
You hold still as he slowly withdraws.
"The
one thing you're going to taste is pleasure. Tell me when it's blue." He
closes his eyes and breathes deep until you stop him. "I think you've been
an amazingly good girl."
"I
think you've been an amazingly naughty boy."
"I
know. It rocked." He laughs and kisses you in a way that is nothing but
playful. Then he pulls you off the bench and takes you to a ledge that is out
of the water. Spreading your legs, he tells you to watch the gauge for him,
then he begins to lick and suck and you can barely keep your eyes open much
less watch the fucking gauge, but you see green and green and green and then
you're pulling his hair and you cry out so loudly it fills the grotto.
He
doesn't pull away though. He just keeps licking and kissing and he goes back to
where you're sensitive far sooner than you think he should, and it hurts, but
then, it doesn't. And you groan.
"Oh,
baby, yes. Let's make this climb again." He's rougher this time but his
gauge stays green and you feel like you'll explode, and then you're going, and
he lets you float all the way down before pulling you back into the water and
kissing you, telling you how beautiful you are and how nice it is that you
can't form words to critique his technique.
You
laugh and kiss him and you realize he's done it. He's made swimming fun.
"You
look happy. And not just orgasm happy."
"I
like this. I've never liked swimming or the water. It was just something I had
to do."
"Wait
till you try the slide. Slides are so fun. No sex. Just silly fun."
"Silly
fun is good." You float against him and he's still hard but you don't
reach down. "I loved having you inside me."
"Thank
you for being so patient."
"It
was worth it. I feel so close to you. And...in a different way than if we'd
just fucked like crazy people."
"Yeah.
Believe me. I get that." He nuzzles your ear then whispers, "Are you
going to kill me if I say I'm starving?"
"No,
I am too. And I got you a new Malbec to try. The guy said it's really
good."
His
surprised and pleased smile is everything you've ever wanted or needed.
11.
Him
Life
settles into a rhythm, Seven is busy again during the days for the next week
between therapy sessions and the things Starfleet has her doing, but the
evenings are yours to enjoy together. You push the limit on your little device
but you don't get into trouble.
And
you think there's not a part of her you don't know, a way to make her moan
you're not aware of.
You
don't think there's a part of you left that isn't completely in love with her.
If she decided she didn't want you, you don't know what you would do.
Fortunately
she shows no sign of doing that.
You
look down at the device that Ohk and the Doctor tweaked today after you've had
a week of no major side effects and most of your numbers have hit the normal
range.
You
can't wait to show Seven. In the meantime, you're working on your game room
since the refit plans still aren't officially finalized—and even if they were,
your doctors probably wouldn't let you work on it yet anyway. But at least, as
head of the team, you've had input and some changes have been made based on
that. It makes you feel good, like you're contributing in this new role
already.
And
not just lying around recovering from being dead.
You've
convinced Seven to let you have Lieutenant Commander S'Wak'La's quarters. He
didn't use furniture so the quarters are the perfect blank canvas for your game
room with plenty of space for the really cool, really large table you're
designing. If you and Seven ever have a fight and want to sleep apart, you can
always crash on one of the recliners, sectionals and chairs you're bringing in
for the movie theater space you're also creating.
You've
added extra soundproofing so the first-rate sound system you just put in won't
annoy the hell out of neighbors you outrank. You remember how it was to have
shitty neighbors on the other side of the wall.
You're
measuring to see what size screen makes sense when you hear the door chime
sound. You're not sure who knows you're here other than Seven and your med
team. "Come."
Jack
walks in, a huge grin on his face. "I get back from three days of survival
training—did I need that? No, I did not. And you're out of sickbay." He
walks around the space. "Okay weird digs. The Doctor said I'd find you
here but I'm wondering why."
"Game
room."
"With
a bed in it? Ick."
"No
bed is going in here. I'm creating a movie theater in the space the bed would
normally be in."
"Then
where do you sleep? Ooh, look at you. Moving in with her already?"
"They
were my quarters first."
Jack
laughs and seems to have a comeback ready but then he sees the device on your
arm and says, "That looks different than last time. I don't remember
yellow being on the scale."
"It
wasn't. They tweaked it." You waggle your eyebrows at him and he laughs
and says, "Then this is just in time." He hands you a small music
padd and two sets of earbuds, the kind that sit flat and temporarily stick to
the skin so they won't fall out if you move.
You
peruse the playlist. It start with something called, "The Secret
Garden?"
"Trust
me. People have been conceived to Barry White in general and to this song in
particular. It's...well, listen to it, it's not just him, there's a bunch of
people on this song."
You
slip in the earbuds and a very low, very sexy voice sing-speaks: "Tell me
a secret. I don't just want to know about any secret of yours;
I want to know about a special secret. Because tonight I want to learn all
about the secrets in your garden."
You
peel off the earbuds and say, "Jack, is there something you want to tell
me? Because, uh, I'm taken."
He
rolls his eyes. "That's for you and the missus, moron. You can listen
together because both earbuds are synced. Sidney and I tested all the songs to
see what would make the final cut."
"I
don't want to know." You grin as you hit play and let more of the song go.
Oh, man. Sexxxxxxxy. You turn it off and laugh. "If this song is any
indication, you may make lieutenant in record time."
He
grins.
"Thank
you." You pat him on the back, then show him the blueprints for the table
you're designing. You're both laughing when you hear a weird sound and then
"Hello, Jack" sounds behind you.
You
both whirl. A man and a woman—not Starfleet—are standing there. You hear Jack's
indrawn breath, can practically feel the tension filling him.
"Who
the fuck are you?" And why the hell haven't they set off any alarms by
just beaming in here?
"Hello,
Captain Shaw." The man's voice is soothing in a super deliberate way and
his smile is both smarmy and condescending; you really want to punch him in the
face. "I'm Jack's brother, my name is Wesley Crusher."
"Half.
Half brother," Jack says, pain clear in his voice. "And hey, it's nice
to fucking meet you now that I'm grown up and past all the shit you could have
goddamned warned me about."
"Everything
happened as it was supposed to."
"Everything
happ—where the fuck were you when I was alone and terrified? When our mother
was crying in her bed and I had to pretend not to hear? She needed you. I
needed you."
Wesley
turns to the female. "You see, Kore, how being limited to this plane
enhances the need for connection—increases anger when that connection is
denied?"
She
nods, studying Jack as if he's a rat in a cage.
This
asshole is actually using this as a fucking teaching moment? While his brother
quietly falls apart next to you.
You
can tell Jack is about to launch so you step between him and the other two.
"Get off my ship."
"This
isn't your ship any longer, Liam."
"I
don't recall saying we were on a first name basis, asswipe." You take a
step toward Wesley, not caring that he can probably rip you up one way and down
the other without breathing hard. Beverly told you about Wesley, when you were
recovering in sickbay. You think she thought you were too hopped up on pain
meds to remember. You weren't. "And if you think that this isn't my ship,
you obviously served on the wrong one under the wrong captain. If you're on a
ship, if you're doing your best and protecting everyone else, it's yours. And
it's going to be Jack's—he's going to be vital to the captain and the crew—in a
way you never were. But I guess that's why you went off to become someone who
watches life instead of actually living it."
You've
hurt Wesley with your words. Good. It's probably the only thing that can hurt
him. "Now get the fuck off my ship."
"You
heard him. Sod off." Jack's voice is full of hurt bravado to you but you
think to the other two, he will sound sincere and cold.
"I
had hoped this would go better." Wesley shrugs and they wink out.
You
turn and see that Jack is standing so still you know it's so he won't kick or
punch or break something. Very slowly, so he won't overreact, you pull him to
you and hug him, the way no man probably has, the way your father hugged you
when you came home broken after Wolf 359.
He
resists but only for a moment. Then he's hugging you back and you think he's
probably crying.
You
tell him, "You don't need that asshole, Jack. We're your family. Seven got
your assignment here approved so act surprised when she tells you."
He
whispers, "I will."
"You've
got me and you've got Seven and Raffi and Ohk and the Doctor is actually pretty
cool and he's going to be on the ship too. Sidney's crazy about you, which
means you get her father too—I am super envious over that—and I'm bringing
Alandra on as part of the refit team and then to stay—don't talk about that yet
either because she doesn't know. Mura adopts all the newbies. And Esmar is the
sweetest individual on this whole damn ship and they will share all the best
Haliian dishes with you if you ask. I could go on but do you need me to?"
"No.
And mum's the word on the secret stuff. But...thanks for telling me." He
eases away and looks up at you as he wipes his eyes. "Seven's building her
family. The one she lost on Voyager. And you're obviously crucial."
"To
her, yeah." You grin.
"Not
just to her." He puts his hand on your shoulder and squeezes and then lets
go. "My mom misses that asshole. Can you believe that? When she has
me?"
You
let him lead you to lighter emotional ground and say, "Some people have no
fucking taste."
"That
is the sad truth, my friend. Now, where are those blueprints? I have thoughts
about this table."
Her
You
palm open your door and the scent of tuberoses meets you. A table is set with
white linens and a big bouquet of the flowers is on the dresser with a smaller
arrangement on the table. Flame-less candles flicker all over the room and the
food is staying fresh and warm for you in a stasis tray.
Liam
is at your desk watching you with a very sexy smile. "Hi, honey."
"Hi.
What's all this?"
He
holds up his device
You
walk to him to look at it. "New color?"
"Mmm
hmmm. Yellow may become your new favorite color."
"Well
I already like it a lot."
He
pulls you into his lap and says, "New rules for us."
"Do
tell."
"We've
been really good at staying in the green and blue. And my numbers are also
great. So they took some of the green and some of the orange and that's the new
yellow bit. And yellow's okay. Only orange and red are bad."
"I
see."
He
pulls you down for a very long, very passionate kiss. Then you both look at the
scale, and it's in the yellow, but it would have been green before.
"So,"
he goes on, "they aren't as concerned about orgasms as they are the umm
aerobic activity getting to them. If we're calm about it, I can come all I
want. Unless this thing says differently. It can go into orange after a climax
so long as it resolves to yellow within two minutes."
"Got
it." You know you are smiling way, way too broadly.
"You
like the idea?"
You
hold his arm so you can watch the scale as you pitch your voice into the
sexiest tone you can manage and say, "Of you inside me? Taking me? Of my
mouth around you, sucking and licking until you can't help but come? Of sitting
on top of you and controlling you? Of letting you sit on my chest, your—"
The scale has been yellow but it suddenly shoots into the orange. "That
one will have to wait."
"It'll
be worth waiting for though." He laughs in a very silly way that utterly
charms you. "I can't believe you're mine."
"I
can't believe I'm yours either." You grin as he realizes how you answered,
squeal as he pulls you to him. "I mean I can't believe you're mine."
"That's
better."
"Would
you think less of me if I said I want to fuck right this instant? I want you inside
me. However works. For however long. I don't care if it's fast or slow or
tender or you just bend me over this desk."
"Oh,
Seven, do you have any idea what you do to me?"
You
stroke the device, the scale now in the high yellow area but still safe.
"I do. Visual evidence." Then you reach down, into his pants,
grasping. "As well as sensory." You kiss him, tenderly, trying to get
him back into green before you start but he's staying resolutely in yellow, but
it's a very low yellow. "How do you want your first time?"
"I
want to be on top of you." He's watching your face as if that might
distress you.
"Yes."
"Yes?"
You
nod and he pushes you up. You both take off your clothes, taking your time, not
making it overly sexy though. You want this to be as relaxed as possible—even
if that thought is somewhat ludicrous given the activity.
But
you want it to stay in the yellow so he can enjoy himself the way he hasn't
been able to yet. You want him to come inside you, to watch his face as he
does, to know he's waited and made you happy this whole time, never
complaining.
You
take his hand and lead him to the bed. "I'll keep an eye on the gauge.
I'll let you know if you need to slow down." You kiss him deeply then lie
down and slowly spread your legs. "I'm yours."
You
can see that simple statement sends him very far into the yellow.
He
crawls onto the bed and begins to explore your body in a slightly different way
than he did before. Before he was discovering what you liked, what you felt,
what you wanted. Now, he's doing what he wants, which fortunately for you ends
up being pretty much the same thing.
When
he kisses his way down, you say, "Liam...this is for you."
"Shut
it. I want you happy. I also want you wet as fuck."
You
really can't argue with either of those goals so you say, "I can't watch
the gauge from here."
"I'll
watch the gauge right now. You can do it the rest of the time. Lie back and do
what I say." He spreads your legs a little more, which always sends you,
when he's in charge of you that way. Such a small thing to make a heart beat
faster, to make blood flow to certain very important places.
Then
he's licking you and you barely make the climb before you're going, calling out
for him, and he's saying, "I'm here, Seven. I'm here. I think I want you
even wetter." He doesn't stop because he knows, after your time together,
exactly how to play you right after, whether or not you can come again or he
should wait a bit.
Tonight,
you know you can come again, want to come again. You're writhing under him as
he goes directly on you, it hurts—and it doesn't—and he reaches up and takes
your hand and you squeeze and say, "More. More."
He
bites down, softly but just right, alternating teeth and tongue and you're
gone, and your cry is more a half scream than a moan because you want him so
much.
You've
waited so long for this.
He's
kissing his way back up your body. "Baby, do you know how fucking hot that
is, how hard you just came? For me. Knowing I'd be inside you very, very soon.
Do you want me to fuck you, Seven?"
You
can barely form words but you check his gauge and then nod.
He
climbs over you, into position, and slides slowly, excruciatingly slowly into
you. Before he gets all the way, he pulls out to the tip, then back in, further
this time.
Over
and over, his gauge safely yellow, his eyes never leaving yours except to
occasionally take a glance at the gauge for himself.
"Do
you like this?" he asks in the sexiest voice you have ever heard him make.
"I
fucking love this."
"I
do too. I'm glad I had to wait. I'm glad there are still things I can't do to
you. Things I'm going to do to you and with you and for you." He is going
faster, but then he slows and you see the gauge is too close to orange. He
pushes as far in as he can and says, "Squeeze me."
You
do, as hard as you can. When he tells you to stop, you do, and he pulls out and
thrusts back in, then lies still. "Again. Harder."
You
alternate, him thrusting, you milking him, until he tenses and you watch his
face, the way it screws up, the smile turning into a grimace as he comes. The
gauge pops into orange, but then rapidly goes back down to the high yellows.
He
starts to ease away but you wrap him up with your arms and your legs and say,
"Don't leave me. Just relax, inside me, on top of me."
"I
love you so much." He buries his head in your neck and breathes fast but
not overly so.
You
check his gauge, still yellow, and kiss the side of his face, murmuring that
you love him and you wanted this, so, so much, but that you're glad you waited
too. That you're not getting each other all at once, but by piece by delicious
piece.
You
lie together for a long time, kissing, him trapped by your arms and legs. Then
you begin to bear down on him, and he laughs and says, "You are so good at
that."
"You're
a really good size for this. I love how you feel inside me." Even if you
know it will be a while before he's ready again—although, something's
happening.
He
grins. "Your nanoprobes may bring life to the dead in more ways than
one." He rolls off you and lies on his back, patting his hips. "Get
up here now, Captain."
"Is
that an order, sir?"
"You're
goddamned right it is."
You
laugh as you lean down, taking him into your mouth.
"Way
to show initiative and also completely disregard what I said. Carry on."
You
kiss and lick and suck until he's ready and then you arrange his arm on the
pillow so you can see the gauge, tell him not to move it in a commanding tone
at odds with whatever mild dominance games he's playing, and climb onto him,
lowering yourself down very slowly.
He's
got his eyes screwed shut, is murmuring, "Seven," over and over, and
you start to move, finding ways that feel good to you, increasing the tempo
since you're the one putting out the effort. His gauge stays yellow so you go
harder, feeling the climax coming and he's watching you as you go.
You
throw back your head as you come, leaning back, and then he's holding you by
your hips, thrusting up and you force yourself to watch the gauge as you meet
his thrust, bearing down. He goes longer this time, his smile so fucking sexy
you wish you could capture it for posterity, and then he's coming and just like
before, the gauge goes orange for a minute or two, then climbs back down.
You
are both breathing hard and smiling like fools, and you think you'll remember
this moment forever, his smile and the feeling of him inside you and the scent
of your favorite flowers filling the room. "I love you, Liam."
"I
love you too, Seven. You are every fucking thing to me. I hope you know
that."
You
nod as you lean down to kiss him. "You're every fucking thing to me
too."
12.
Him
After
your infusion, once Seven is off to a new-captain's overnight, you find your way
to the bridge, where Raffi's sitting, even though nobody needs to be in the
center seat while in space dock. But then there isn't much else to do and she
does seem to be working—has a pile of padds on the chair she'd normally be in.
"Hey," you say softly since she appears absorbed.
She
looks up with a confused look. "She's not here."
"Well
aware." You walk around the bridge, something you've sort of stayed away
from since your resurrection. "It's weird to be up here."
"Yeah,
I imagine it is." She doesn't get up, but you do hear her put the padd
she's using on top of the others. "For any number of reasons."
You
nod as you stop at the science station. "Have you guys replaced T'Veen
yet?"
"No.
Or if Seven has, she's playing it close to the chest."
"T'Veen
was part Deltan. She had such an interesting take on emotions, not what you'd
expect from someone who was mostly Vulcan."
"I'm
sorry I didn't get to meet her."
"She'd
have liked you." You laugh at how susceptible she was to a pretty female
face. "She'd have really liked you."
"But
the oath of celibacy..."
"She
wasn't Deltan enough to have to take one. But she did tend to not mess around
with people on the ship. I used to think that was a wise decision." You
turn to look at her. "I could have handled the scene in the corridor
better."
She
shrugs. "In your place, I'd have probably done the same thing. It's Seven,
so..."
"Yeah,
it's Seven." You continue your walkabout on the bridge.
"Did
you like being captain?"
"Yes.
But it's not something I want to do again." You glance at her.
"Engineering is my love."
"And
Seven?"
"I'd
give up engineering for her. I wouldn't give her up for engineering." You
think about what you just said. You're not sure you've ever had anyone in your
life before that this would be true of. "Yeah, wow."
"I
know. Believe me. And she seems to want to give you a lot more than she did
me."
You
meet her eyes; you want her to see the truth of this. "She didn't know she
was letting me in and I didn't know I was letting her in. It was, as it turns
out, a great advantage for our relationship. By the time we realized the
feelings we had for each other were mutual, we were in too deep to do our
normal running."
"So
it wasn't me, you mean? It was the timing and the circumstance?"
"Maybe.
I mean look at you—you're...you."
She
laughs and looks away. "Aww, shucks, Captain."
"Anyway,
I didn't come up here to hit a nostalgia bong or make you blush. I came to
invite you to the poker game tonight."
"Oh,
while the cat's away...?"
"She
knows I'm turning my new quarters into a game room." You can see the
satisfaction on her face that you've been assigned some new quarters and let
her have the win. "But until then, we're playing in sickbay. It's the
doctors and the La Forge sisters and Jack and me. And you, if you like
poker?"
"I
love poker. Seven hates it."
"Yeah,
she made that clear when I invited her. More chips for us, I say. Both of the
playing and the eating kind. I have the world's best guacamole recipe
programmed into the replicators. 1900 hours, be there or be square."
She
rolls her eyes but her smile is real. "Sounds like a fun time. I'll be
there."
Her
You're
sitting with your feet up on the railing, a glass of bourbon in your hand when
you hear familiar footsteps behind you. "Hi, Harry."
"Hi,
Seven."
"Or
should I say, Captain Kim?"
"Right
back at you, Captain Seven." He pulls a chair next to you and mimics your
posture, taking a long pull from his bottle of beer. "So, Shaw, huh?"
You
laugh because of course it's gotten all the way to him. "Who told
you?"
"Tom
but I'm not sure where he heard it." He turns his head to look at you.
"I like him."
"I
do too."
"Well,
yeah, I'd hope so." He grins and it's the grin that's never changed over
all the years. "It's really good to see you. I've missed our family."
You
can feel your smile fading somewhat. He got to miss your family from within
Starfleet. Something you were denied all this time. But it's not his fault so
you hide your pain with a slow sip of your bourbon.
"I
heard about Icheb. I'm...I'm sorry."
"You're
fifteen years too late on that one, Harry." This time you don't hide your
pain. Your therapist has told you it's not good to hide everything all the
time.
"I
know. Things got weird, you and Chakotay. And then not. But the captain—the
admiral... I was in a shitty posting, and I was so unhappy and they were all I
felt I had."
"You
had me, as a friend. But I guess that didn't matter since I was never yours in
the way you wanted?" Yet another person who saw you as a potential partner
but couldn't be there when you were hurting.
"Not
for lack of trying. And I'm sorry. The me of now wouldn't behave that way, if
it's any consolation."
"The
me of then would never have told you it hurt that you weren't around."
He
reaches over and touches your hand. "I'm glad you found someone free of
the baggage."
"Me
too."
"Rumor
is the Doctor is going to be on your ship."
"Jesus
Fucking Christ, is nothing private?" You sound just like Shaw, and it
makes you laugh, especially when you see Harry's surprise at your language.
"Sorry. My boyfriend's extreme dexterity with expletives is rubbing off on
me."
He
laughs. "It's kind of awesome. Goes with the more badass Seven of Nine I'm
seeing. Don't remember you drinking whiskey by itself either."
"You
pick up a lot of things when you're working with the Rangers."
"Yeah,
I imagine you do." He shifts in his seat, takes another long pull.
"Is it going to piss you off if I start another sentence with 'Rumor
is...'?"
"I
don't know. Try it and see."
"Rumor
is they're changing the name of your ship. That you'll be captain of an Enterprise."
You
sigh. "Rumor is right." And it's high time you told Liam. He
shouldn't have to hear this from someone else. "I hate it. Titan
earned her place in the lexicon. As more than just a 'See Enterprise G.'"
"I
agree. But at least G is the seventh letter. So it's like destiny or
something." The look he gives you is open and untroubled.
You
like this Harry Kim. You're glad he's at this training.
Even
if you really, really want to get home. To your ship and your man.
Him
You're
kicked back in bed, glass of Malbec on the nightstand when Seven comes in.
Normally you'd be worried because her shuttle is late and your infusion should
have been hours ago. But Ohk and the Doctor didn't see a degradation in your
nanoprobes this time so after they called her to tell her to stop panicking,
they put you on an "as needed" basis for the infusions.
Another
step in the "I'm really alive" journey.
"Good
training?" you ask.
"It
was. I saw an old friend. Made new ones, which I guess is the point because the
speakers weren't anything special and there was a lot of down time." She
studies you. "How are you feeling?"
"Great.
And the idea that I might not need more infusions—or if I do, it won't be as
often—is a relief. I hate that you're so tied to me."
"And
I hate that you're tied to me that way." Her smile is so relieved you
realize how worried she's been for you. She lets out a happy sigh as she curls
up with you on the bed.
"Shoes
on the bed, Seven? You really must have missed me." You can't stand it so
you lean over and unzip them so she can kick them off. "You still want me
for chief engineer if you don't have to have me here to keep me
alive?"
"I
do. I can't imagine anyone else in that role." She begins to sniff the bed
linens. "Did you refresh the sheets?"
"I
did. You have me, the real thing, now. You do not need my funk."
"I
liked your funk."
"Baby,
trust me, it was time." You lean down and kiss her gently. "But I
love the sentiment." You're watching her, though, to make sure this
doesn't put her in a tailspin.
You
think before it would have but now she just sighs and says, "Fine, I've
got you now."
She
pulls you down to her for a short but very satisfying kiss and then says,
"I have to tell you something."
"Are
you breaking up with me?"
"Yes,
this just isn't working." She smiles sweetly and you lean in and kiss her
for a much longer time. "No really, I do have something I have to tell
you. It's about the ship's name. I hate it but—"
"They're
renaming Titan Enterprise. I know."
She
looks confused.
"It
was in the latest schematics for the refit."
"Fuck.
I didn't even notice."
"In
a way, it seems fitting. I'll be the last captain of Titan and that
feels right. And G is the—"
"Seventh
letter of the alphabet. Yes, others have pointed that out."
"Why
didn't you tell me?" You keep your voice even. You're not mad, not
hurt even. Just curious why she wouldn't do the hard thing.
"You'd
been through so much. You were recovering. You could hear about it later. And I
was mad that they did it. I would have liked it to stay Titan so our
destinies were linked."
"Don't
you think they already are?"
She
nods. "But I wasn't sure at first, how you'd feel about the nanoprobes,
about me, about anything." She touches your face gently. "Now I am and
I've told you about the name change. So..."
"So..."
You grin at her. "I missed you."
"I
missed you too. You can get used to something really fast." Her smile is
mellow and you shift so you are curled against her. "Even a lowlife like
you."
"Your
pillow talk needs work."
"Fuck
you, it's fine."
You
just laugh. "Yeah I guess it'll do. So, we played poker last night. Raffi
took us to the cleaners."
"You're
not playing for money, right?"
"Too
much disparity in the ranks of the players to play for anything other than
chips and bragging rights."
"Good."
"Are
you super tired?" you ask as you begin to push her jacket off her.
"Dead
tired. Can't move a muscle." She's undoing your pants.
"God,
that's a shame. I wanted to fuck you."
"Sorry."
She pulls your pants off and then lifts her arms so you can ease off her top.
"Guess you'll have to wait." Her smile is silly and teasing and just
fucking glorious as you remove your shirt then pull her pants off. "We seem
to be in our underwear, Captain Shaw."
"However
did that happen, Captain Seven?" You get rid of those garments too.
"No
idea." She pushes you to your back and straddles you, easing down as she
asks, "Did the rules for sex change the way your nanoprobe protocol
did?"
"Nope."
"Well,
then I guess I'm in charge."
"That's
an interesting interpretation of the circumstances." You moan as she
squeezes you so fucking hard it feels like her hand. "Or maybe not."
She
laughs and begins to move, slowly, sensuously, watching you as she does it. You
feel so many things as she controls the pace, so many things you weren't sure
you'd ever really feel again.
You
pull her down so you can kiss her, but she resists and tells you to put your
arms over your head.
You
smile and do what she says.
"You're
mine, Liam."
"That
I am."
"I
get to say when we kiss."
"Since
when? And for how long?" You laugh at her expression. "I'm pretty
sure we're both doms, sugar. This is going to be interesting."
"I
like it when you hold me down though. When you spread my legs wider."
"Like
I said... Interesting."
Her
smile tells you she's taking the idea as a challenge. "Open your
mouth."
You
do and she puts her finger in it, tells you to suck it gently so you go as
softly as you can, using your tongue to run along it. She closes her eyes for a
moment, then tells you not to look away as she pulls her finger out and begins
to move harder, faster, every now and then glancing at your arm, at the gauge.
"When we can really play, I want to use restraints."
You
nod, because you want that too.
She
slows down. "That idea popped you into the orange. Was it the idea of me having
you restrained or you having me that way?"
"Both."
She
stops moving entirely. "We should stop talking about this."
You
glance at the gauge, it's as into the orange as you've seen it. "You're
not wrong."
"File
it under 'Later.'" She strokes you gently, the touch soothing more than
sensual. "Come back to me, Liam. Come back to this. Your body's your
own."
You
pull her down so you can kiss her and it's a little rougher kiss than you'd
normally do. She kisses you back just as fiercely. Then you both look at your
gauge. It's orange again.
"Just
lie on top of me, press down but don't squeeze." You stroke her back and
wrap your legs around her, kissing her gently, forgetting about who's in charge
and who's not and just enjoying the way she feels when she's this close to you.
"It's
yellow."
You
thrust up, and feel her answering clench. "Seven..." You want to roll
her over, take her hard but you know that will be too much. "Go hard, go
fast, I'll tell you if it's too much."
"And
so will the gauge."
You
nod and unwrap your legs, letting her rise so she can ride you. She begins to
move, slapping down on you, the sound deliciously nasty and you tell her,
"Faster, harder," and use your fingers to help her along. She's
crying out but she hasn't stopped moving and you admire her dedication to your
pleasure and ability to multitask.
Then
you feel it coming and say, "Don't stop. Please don't stop."
She's
watching you, her mouth half open, her lips swollen from your kisses and she
pulls you up as you come, holding you against her as you cry out. You close
your eyes and nestle into her, secure that she'll watch the gauge, that she'll
keep you safe.
She's
very quiet so you ask, "Am I dying or something?" You feel great so if
this is death, bring it.
"It's
just taking a little longer to get to yellow. There it is." She lets go of
your arm and slides off you to cuddle in next to you. "Do you think we
would be as aware of each other as we are if we didn't have to watch the
gauge?"
"I
don't know. We're both analytical by nature. I'm more hands on."
"I
will never complain about that."
You
kiss her gently. "You're more cerebral."
"What
I just did was the opposite of cerebral. It was primal."
"And
I will never complain about that." You grin and move her hair out of her
eyes. "My beautiful captain."
"Some
people wouldn't like the idea of working for someone who'd worked for
them."
"Well,
it's you. And you're going to have to listen to me as your chief engineer,
right?" When she nods, you laugh. "You didn't do a lot of that as my
first officer. This will be a welcome change."
She
rolls her eyes but then says, "I learned a lot from you though, even if I
was constantly challenging you."
"Yeah?
Like what?"
"How
to fill out forms." She ducks your mock slap. "How to work the
system. How to keep people safe."
"I
like the last one."
"Me
too. If you see me not doing it, call me on it."
"Believe
me I will." You hear her stomach growl and let her go. "What do you
want? I already ate."
"Grilled
ham and cheese. Then I just want to go to sleep. I couldn't on the
shuttle."
"Sleep
it is. I'm beat too. I tossed and turned last night. Stupid, huh? We've been sharing
a bed such a short time and yet it felt wrong without you."
"It's
nice, not stupid."
"You're
right. It's really, really nice."
13.
Her
You're
walking slowly through the halls of Command, considering some of the points of
the last lecture of the day—it was a good one that made you think.
It's
why it takes you a moment to realize someone is calling your name.
You
turn and see it is Admiral Crusher. She does not look happy. "Admiral? Did
you need something?"
"Yes.
A word." She gestures to a corridor that is not so busy. "What the
hell do you think you're doing?"
"You
will have to specify." She's clearly pissed as hell at you. You have no
idea why.
"Jack."
"Jack?"
"Yes,
on your ship? Seriously? And did you think I wouldn't find out?"
It
hasn't been announced yet. You don't think that Jack has been informed
officially, although Liam told you about the encounter with Jack's brother, how
he told Jack he was going to be on the ship to comfort him.
You
don't mind that he did that, and you love even more that he told you he did.
"You
have a problem with another son of yours serving on an Enterprise?"
"Jean-Luc
just got him back."
"Got
him back? That would imply he knew he lost him. Which as I understand
your story, he did not." This woman—how much trouble could she have
averted if she'd just told Picard the fucking truth?
If
you thought the admiral was pissed off before, now she is livid. "He's on
your ship not because he wants to but because he feels he owes you. For what
you did—what Shaw sacrificed. And, well, he's sheltered and I'm sure you've
looked in a mirror lately—of course he'd follow you."
Sheltered?
Jack? You know you're blinking furiously as you try not to laugh. Also, you
think Jack's tastes do not run to fair-skinned blondes.
"I
haven't had the heart to tell his father. He was so counting on getting to know
him."
"When
exactly?"
"What?"
"When
was he going to do that?" Because when Jack isn't in OCS, he spends a hell
of a lot of time on your ship and that was before he knew he had a posting.
"Now's the time, while he's on Earth, before he ships out."
"Well,
Jean-Luc's doing a lecture circuit and we've been catching up."
And
you suddenly realize who they remind you of. With their "I only see my
partner" and "look at this child we made" guilelessness.
You're
back on the Raven, watching as your parents take apart another Borg while the
game console you loved sits waiting for a minor repair. Eventually you tried to
do it yourself and broke it beyond fixing.
"The
right time is now, Beverly. Or are you too busy being Picard's long lost love
to remember how to be a parent?"
"How
dare you. Look, Jean-Luc told me you had a son. That you lost. I feel for you.
Any mother would. But Jack is my son. You can't have him."
"And
if I release him from my ship, where does he end up?"
"On
Earth. Where he can get to know his father."
"He
joined Starfleet. To have a man like Jack sit on Earth is a waste of
resources."
"He
joined Starfleet to be like his father."
"And
like you. And why not? Twenty years away and they make you an admiral. Do you
know how long I had to wait just to get my toe in the door?"
"Yes,
well I wasn't Borg, was I?"
You
don't let the satisfaction show on your face. You've led her to exactly the
point you wanted. "Jack was. Still is in some people's eyes. I think you
don't know your son as well as you believe."
You
turn to go and she says, with a great deal of acid in her tone, "I will
take this up the chain."
You
channel Raffi when you turn to her, give her a snide little half smile, and
say, "Knock yourself out."
Him
The
dining room hasn't been used, as far as you know, since the night Picard and
Riker came aboard and you conversationally tore them apart.
You're
not sure if Seven realized at the time that you sat her where protocol dictates
the guest of honor should go. That it should have been where Picard sat, but
you wanted to show how tight a team you and Seven were—or thought you were. And
she was your shield, your forcefield, through which Picard—or more accurately
Locutus—could not come, even if you had to face him while you ate. Until he
walked around her and gave you a bottle of his fucking wine.
Wine
that isn't bad. Not your favorite but you were surprised it was drinkable.
Sitting
Riker next to her was also disrespectful. Petty not to have it set as a
four-person setting. He should have been to your left, Seven across from you.
She
knows better now; they cover this shit in captain school.
And
tonight she does have it set as a four person. You're at her right, Jack will
be at her left when he shows up.
He's
not late: you two are early, planning your strategy.
"I
still can't believe Beverly's nerve," you say as you check the
steaks—regular ones this time. You know Jack hates the blue ones.
"We
have to make sure he's on the ship for the right reasons, though." Her
voice is off and you think there's something she's not telling you, but you
have faith she'll tell you in time. "Just because we're pissed doesn't
mean she isn't right."
You
love that about her. She's got to collect all the data before she makes a
decision this important.
"Am
I late?" Jack is standing at the door, repeating his father's words
almost, but for him you smile and say gently, "Nyah, we're early."
He
takes one look at the formal linens and steak and goes, "Shit. What did I
do?"
"You
didn't do anything, Jack," Seven says softly. "Sit down."
She
gets the food out of stasis while you pour the wine and he looks miserable.
You
put your hand on his shoulder and murmur, "You're not in trouble," as
you finish filling his wineglass.
"Just
enjoy the steak for a while. I have some questions for you but you haven't done
anything wrong." Seven smiles so sweetly at him; you wonder if he has any
idea that the smile she just gave him may be for him alone.
Strangely
that idea doesn't bother you.
You
bite into your ribeye and groan happily. Perfect marbling, not too done, not
too rare. Seven, as usual, has hers medium well. Jack went with medium like you
did.
"These
are really good," she says as she dishes up some of the Brussels sprouts
she loves.
You're
fond of them too so you dish some up along with the steak fries she ordered.
You
pour more wine for her—she drank that first glass really fast compared to her
norm. She's nervous. You catch her eye and nod—better she start the
conversation now when she's mostly sober than later when she's not.
"I
ran into your mother today."
"Oh,
God, I'm sorry. She found out about the assignment." He suddenly looks
down, no doubt remembering that you told him to act like it was a surprise once
she told him.
"It's
okay, Jack. Liam told me he told you. He told me because I need to know that
your brother is able to enter my ship at will and not trip any alarms."
"Half
brother."
"Right."
"She's
so pissed off at me. But it's my life." He stops eating and takes a long
sip of wine.
"Why
do you want to be on my ship, Jack?"
"Why
do you want me on your ship?"
"I
asked first."
"She
did." You like to be supportive boyfriend guy.
"Fine,
I'll tell you why. When everything was happening, and I was the center of it
all, you two were the only ones who were doing what you were doing for me. The
others—they were doing it for my dad. 'Poor Jean-Luc finding out he has a son
only to lose him.' Never mind what I was going through. I just felt like you
two saw me. But if you hadn't said you wanted me, I'd have been out on whatever
ship would take me. Starship, Garbage Scow, it wouldn't have mattered. My
mother wants me on Earth so I'll love the man she hid me from for twenty years.
Again, it's not about me."
"Those
are good reasons." She is biting back a smile. "Your mother thinks
you're impressionable."
"Meaning..."
"Sexually
inexperienced. She thinks I might exercise undue influence on you—as a woman,
not as a captain."
"It's
like she just shut her eyes and pretended I was still little Jack once I went
through puberty. I am not...inexperienced."
"We
kinda knew that," you say, giving him a bolstering "yeah buddy"
type nod.
"Right?"
He rolls his eyes. "Don't get me wrong, Seven, you're very attractive. But
you're also with this guy who I happen to think the world of. And..."
He
can't seem to say it so you do, "She's not your type."
"Really
not."
"I'm
also too old for you."
"Well...?"
You
glare at him.
He
glares back. "I am not going to say that's true. But I'm not here because
I'm secretly in love with her."
"Are
you here because you think you owe us? I saw how much stuff you put in Liam's
goody bag."
"Guilt
is why I came up the first time. It's not why I keep coming back."
"Is
there anything I need to know that we haven't covered. Why you want to be here.
Why you don't want to be on Earth."
"Sidney."
You
laugh. "We're both aware of that one."
He
stares down at his plate. "I'm not sure how to say this. I...appreciate
all that my father did to save me. And he gave me a really amazing speech about
love and family and everything while I was connected to the collective. But...I
spend time with him and I don't feel what they want me to."
He's
refusing to look up and you suspect he's tearing up.
"Love
comes at its own pace," you murmur.
"What
if it doesn't come at all? I mean what if I'm only ever fond of him? Impressed
maybe, but not...close?"
Seven
sighs. "If my parents showed up, I'd feel much like you do. Even if they'd
been rescued when I was—they would have been strangers. I think it's your right
to get to know him—or not—in the way you want and need."
You
nod.
"Your
mother intends to take this up the chain. She's forgetting that the head of
fleet operations is a friend of mine. Liam and I are meeting her for drinks
tomorrow."
You
are? This is news to you but you try not to let that show. Sometimes Seven
forgets to loop you in on really basic stuff like oh, say, your fucking
schedule.
"And
now I think you're going to come with us."
Jack
freezes. "Me? With you and Liam and Kathryn Janeway."
"Trust
me. I know I may not seem overly skilled in reading people, but you're exactly
the kind of officer who charms her. Handsome, quick with a retort, little bit
of a bad boy."
You
cough "criminal" into your napkin and Jack laughs.
"And
where was Tom Paris before she got to him? Penal colony."
You
grin at her deviousness.
Jack
looks confused. "So I have to act like this Tom guy?"
"Just
be yourself," you say with a laugh. "That ought to clinch it."
You hold your glass up to Seven and she mouths, "Sorry," as she lifts
hers to you, clearly realizing she forgot to tell you about the plans.
The
rest of dinner is light and easy and when Jack leaves, Seven sits and stares at
the door. Then without looking at you, she asks, "Is there a holodeck
free?"
You
check your padd. "Yep. Couple hours?"
She
nods. "I need to ask you something and I need to tell you something. And I
want to do it in the grotto."
"Okay."
You've been back more than once to that grotto. It's one of your new favorite
places. You get up and take the dishes to the refresher slot. Normally there'd
be crewmen who'd come up to clear the table but the ship is nearly empty and you
can save the kitchen staff the work.
You
walk with her to the lift, then to the holodeck, where you start the program,
shuck off your clothes, and dive into the water.
She
follows you, diving under the waterfall and coming up into the grotto beside
you. "Can you turn the lights down a little?"
"I
can. Why do I need to?"
"I
guess you don't." She looks away.
Frowning,
you tell the computer to lower lights twenty percent.
"Thank
you." She sits on the bench and pulls you to her by wrapping her legs
around you. "I had a son." She meets your eyes, hers so sad it makes you
want to tell her to stop, not to tell you any of this if it's going to hurt
her.
But
you don't. She needs to get this out.
"He
wasn't biologically mine. But in every other way he was. He was Borg and we
found him and some other children alone. They were freed from the collective
the same way I was. Most of them stayed in the Delta Quadrant. He didn't."
She closes her eyes. "Well, he almost did. We found his parents. They were
using him as a weapon against the Borg—they'd genetically engineered him to
carry a pathogen that was deadly to the Borg. Instead of welcoming him home,
they wanted to send him back out to be assimilated again. We found out and
rescued him before that could happen. And then he truly was mine."
She
is staring over your shoulder, possibly clear into the Delta Quadrant. You
don't move, don't want to break the moment, to stop her from talking.
"He
got into Starfleet when we got back. I was envious and proud all at once. He
did so well. Inside though he still had Borg parts and those are valuable.
Someone I foolishly allowed myself to care about captured him and removed them.
Without anesthesia."
You
close your eyes.
"By
the time I found him, it was too late. I killed the doctors but they'd taken
too much. He wanted...release. I gave it to him." She meets your eyes.
"I killed my son."
"Was
there anything else you could have done?"
"No.
It was the only thing. I really don't have to second guess that. But it's my
fault he was a target in the first place."
"The
person that took him would have taken you next."
"I
know that. That person knew I knew that. She ran. She hid. It took me thirteen
years to find her. I wanted to kill her slowly, the way she had Icheb. But
there were too many guards, so it was fast. Unfulfilling but ultimately the
goal. Her. Dead." She takes a deep breath. "Beverly said that Picard
had told her about Icheb. That she was sorry I lost my son, but Jack was hers,
not mine."
You
feel an almost incandescent rage fill you. "Fuck. Her."
She
runs her hand down your face and says, "Thank you. Thank you for being mad
at that." Then she tips up your chin. "But I do feel differently for
him than for the others. More protective. More...more." She lets you go
and closes her eyes. "And that's my question. Is she right? I want to take
him to Janeway and parade him around like he's our son."
"Some
families are forged in genes and blood. Others are forged through shared
experience. I feel super protective over him too. I never wanted kids to the
everlasting sorrow of my mom. But there's something about him that calls to
me—the trauma he hides behind that cocky exterior. I resonate with it."
"Yeah,
that's the thing. I feel as if we understand him."
"That's
not a bad thing."
"Maybe
he just needs some role models who don't run. Who stay and fight." She
pulls you in for a deep kiss. "He could do worse than you."
You
tangle your hands in her hair. "And you. We went through hell for that
young man. That kind of thing can either bond you or create a rift so wide
nothing can cross it. I don't mind that it was the former. He kept me sane when
I was in lockdown in sickbay. He didn't have to do that. I think he would have
done the same for you if our roles were reversed."
"I'd
have been less fun."
"Well,
duh." You laugh and pull her close. "We're really going to have
drinks with Janeway?"
"And
Chakotay. I left that part out. They're a package deal now."
"Joy.
Any other exes I'm going to meet?"
"Nope,
I didn't let myself get that close to people usually. Especially after
Icheb." She shifts, kissing you into the mood, then pulling you into her.
You
go slowly, tenderly. Tonight isn't a night for games or rough sex. And she's on
the same page, her hands so gentle on you, her lips sweet as they linger on
yours.
Neither
of you even look at the gauge. You just move deliberately, never looking away,
and you reach down to help her find her way, wanting to make her happy—needing
to.
You're
on the edge too. You don't want to come before she does so you go a little
harder with your fingers, finding the magic spot, letting yourself go at the
same time she is. The grotto is filled with your mutual moans, then the slow,
soft sound of your kissing.
You
realize she is crying and know it's not because of the sex, but maybe the sex
is letting her cry. For her son. For herself. For Jack, maybe even. Still a
pawn.
Even
with the people who are supposed to love him.
14.
Her
"Liam,
just pick an outfit." You smooth down the yellow sheath dress you have on.
You're trying to look good without looking like you tried too hard. "Zip
me up."
He
does, putting a soft kiss on your neck and whispering, "My God, you're
gorgeous," then he goes back to his perusal of the closet.
"Liam,
it's just drinks."
"With
them though."
You
roll your eyes and tell him you'll be up with Raffi in the ready room. She's
working on some special project with Worf—it's better not to ask exactly what.
She
wolf whistles as you walk in. "Looking good, Seven." Then she goes
back to her padds. "So explain to me why Jack Crusher is going with you to
drinks with Janeway and your ex."
"The
short version is Beverly Crusher hates the idea of him in space, especially on
this ship."
Raffi
looks up. "What's the long version?"
"That
it's very possible Liam and I have inadvertently adopted Jack and are going to
make sure Beverly's threat to take it up the chain doesn't reach Kathryn before
we do."
Raffi
grins. "I was going to ask you what was going on with those two. They were
adorable at poker the other night. Liam was making stupid dad jokes and Sidney
and Jack were rolling their eyes. Alandra and the Doctor were laughing. Ohk
just looked like she'd been there, done that."
"What
were you doing?"
"Taking
all their chips. Who has time to laugh at jokes? Poker is serious
business." She winks at you. "If I asked you to, would you fight for
Elnor to be posted here?"
"Of
course. I love him too. Are you asking me to?"
She
smiles up at you, a sweet and uncomplicated look. "Nope. He's going to be
working with Worf."
"Wow.
That should be interesting."
"I
know."
You
hear the lift open and see Jack walk out. "You look nice. Go down and help
Liam dress."
"Rephrase.
That sounded really weird," Raffi whispers.
"I
mean pick out an outfit. He's having trouble."
Jack
makes a face. "He's been on medical supervision for too long. It's this
weird thing that happens, almost a fear of leaving the place that's kept you
safe."
"He's
potentially right. This is the first time you two have left the ship,"
Raffi murmurs.
You
are unconvinced. You really think he wants to make a good impression on Kathryn
while showing Chakotay who's boss. Men.
But
Jack knows more about medicine than you do, so just in case, you should allow
for the possibility. "Well, go do your doctor thing and get him motivated
to get the hell moving."
"Yes,
ma'am."
You
sit in the chair across from Raffi. "We need to fill the science officer
position or Starfleet is going to do it for us."
"No
one comes to mind."
"Same."
Your commbadge chirps and you hit it. "Seven here."
"He's
dressed and we're on our way to the transporter room."
"I'll
meet you there."
Raffi
looks impressed. "The boy's a miracle worker."
"Or
Liam was already dressed when he got there and just needed a second thumbs
up."
"Or
that. Have a good time. I'd tell you to say hi to Janeway for me but we both
know that's a super bad idea."
You
laugh as you walk away. "Time heals all wounds, Raffi."
"And
yet does not make 'Stalker' disappear off your permanent file." She goes
back to whatever she's doing and you watch her for a moment as you wait for the
lift. Then you turn and face the doors, ready to go.
Liam
and Jack are waiting for you. Liam has opted for some kind of interstellar
hitman look, and you glare at Jack, but he moves closer and murmurs, "His
choice. Not mine. He looks good in all black though."
"Yes,
highlights his eyes."
"And
cheekbones." Not for the first time you wonder how many sides of the
romantic fence Jack plays. If you weren't around, would he go for Liam? Would
Liam go for him? You haven't really talked about that with him—his preferences
past you.
Is
that insensitive of you or are you finally just living in the moment the way
Raffi and Chakotay wanted you to?
You
sigh and Liam takes your hand. "You okay?"
"I
am. You look handsome. Sinister, but very handsome."
"Well,
you know..."
"I
don't but it's okay."
You
transport to a part of the city you're not that familiar with. Fortunately Jack
and Liam both seem to know where you're going. A bar called Madrigal's that is
quieter than you expect, but as bohemian as the name might suggest.
"There
you are," Chakotay is up and hugging you. "Beverly got to her
first," he whispers in your ear.
"Fuuuuuccckkk."
"Kathryn
knows the history. And you three look like an actual family. Play that up. She
won't be able to resist." He kisses your cheek and eases away to shake
Liam's and Jack's hand.
You
walk to Kathryn with an open smile, truly happy to see her. She slips off the
chair and pulls you in tight. "What the fuck are you doing with that young
man?" she whispers in your ear the same way Chakotay did.
"Saving
him. The way you did me."
"Hmmm.
Not where I thought you would go. You've changed, Seven, and I love it more
each time I see you."
You
laugh and ease away. "And this is Captain Liam Shaw."
"Back
from the dead," Chakotay says softly. "Happy for Seven—she clearly
likes you."
You
smile at him, then gesture to Jack. "And Jack Crusher."
He
does a courtly bow. "Also known as the Borg Prince and a whole bunch of aliases
that shall not be named in case there are any Starfleet doesn't know about
yet." His smile is set on maximum and you are once again struck by how he
can channel his father's savior faire but with a charm that Picard often lacks.
Or perhaps not charm—warmth. Icheb probably would have said Jack was Kirk-like.
"And you need no introduction, Admiral."
She
actually laughs in a way that is almost a giggle. "Oh, Seven, you little
minx. Bringing me the second incarnation of young Tom Paris just to watch me
melt. That's your strategy, isn't it."
Liam
and Jack both seem to freeze, but you just smile and ask, "Is it
working?"
"Oh,
so well." She points to the stool next to her. "Crusher, here. Sit
and tell me what you want out of life once you finish OCS. I've had an earful
from your mother this afternoon."
He
sighs and looks just the slightest bit defeated.
Liam
nudges him. "She wants to hear your side, kiddo. This may be your
only chance. Make it good."
Kathryn
studies him. "Liam Shaw, it's been a long time."
"Yes,
it has, Doctor Janeway."
"Give
me a hug, you old grease monkey."
He
does and you're unsure what's going on. You can see Chakotay is as well.
"This
is the cadet who fixed the A/V system in the conference room so I could give my
PhD dissertation." She looks at the rest of you. "I was serving on
the Al-Batani while I was getting my degree virtually. I had to do the
defense that night because we were shipping out again the next morning. But the
person actually in charge of the A/V system left early."
"He
was generally like that. Dick."
"I
was frantic. I had a kick-ass dissertation defense and no way to present it.
And this cadet saw me and asked if he could help."
"It
was nothing."
"For
you. You had it fixed in five minutes. And then you were gone. And I never got
to say thank you. That I owed you. Because for me it was everything."
You
realize the steps she's taken to keep you and Liam together might not just be
for you, and it makes you happy, that she's on both of your sides.
"Be
like this guy, Jack," she says. "And you'll go far."
"Might
even get assigned with your girl."
"Make
her happy, Liam." Kathryn looks at you. "That works both ways,
Seven."
"Understood."
"All
right, let's get you all drinks and then I really do want to hear what you
want, Jack."
Him
You're
watching Seven dance with Chakotay. They're laughing, and the way they're
holding each other is completely non-sexual. Although it has the familiarity of
old lovers. Hell, for all you know he taught her to dance.
Kathryn
follows your gaze. "Worried?"
"Nope?
You?"
"They
were over ages okay."
"They
do look cozy though," Jack says, throwing back his whiskey.
"Keep
causing trouble, kid, and I'll listen to your mother. Some romances actually do
end amicably."
"And
she's crazy for this guy right here." Jack pats you on the back.
"Yes,
well, sometimes captains and first officers fall in love. And then later they
do something about it." She winks at you.
You
grin and check your device because you've had more wine than you usually would
but it's nicely in the green, almost blue.
"Would
my blood have saved you?" Jack is staring at the device.
"If
it would have, keep that fact quiet. There's a market for nanoprobes."
Kathryn shakes her head. "Scum. It breaks my heart what happened to
Icheb."
"I
think it broke her heart more. And I get the feeling her family wasn't
there for her."
"Oh,
my, you can load a lot of disappointment in such a simple sentence." She
meets your eyes. "Things were strained for a time. I can't make up for not
being there then. I am here now."
And
you suddenly realize the only person who was there for her was Picard. Needing
her, including her in something, but in his hands-off way. No wonder she's
willing to fight for Jack, to not be afraid to let him know he's cared about
and cared for.
It
makes you feel better about the betrayal. If she felt she owed Picard—if
possibly he saved her.
But
not by having her get therapy. Or this woman either. What the everloving fuck?
It's why Starfleet has an entire department, why counselors are on ships.
"Are
you two sitting out dancing so I won't be left alone at the table?" Jack
asks.
"No,"
you says as Kathryn says, "Yes."
Jack
laughs. "I've got an exam tomorrow I should be studying for."
"Then
by all means don't let us stop you." You are relatively certain he doesn't
have an exam tomorrow but you like how gracefully he's extricating himself.
"See ya."
"Interesting
young man," Kathryn says once he's gone. "Seven clearly sees herself
and Icheb in him. What do you see? He's the son of Locutus? He's part of why
you died."
"I
see a good kid. I see a lonely kid. And I see a man who is whip smart, knows
his way around a tricky situation or twenty, and is pretty much a doctor
without the degree. I want him on the ship. His mother has had control of him
for twenty years, dragging him from place to place. He's had zero say in his
own life. We both know his father is not cut out to give him the kind of love
he deserves. Why not let him find it on the ship, with the crew? The way we all
did?"
"My,
my. You must have given some lovely speeches as captain. No wonder your crew
adores you."
"Well,
except Seven. Back when I was calling her Hansen." You lean in, keeping
your voice super low. "Why, when you first took her in, didn't you
encourage her more strongly to call herself Annika Hansen? Why let her claim a
heritage as a mass murderer in a cult of killers?"
"I
didn't let her do anything. You know her. You know how stubborn she is. And
frankly, I was just trying to keep her from going back to the collective. If
she wanted the name she'd known for twenty years, I wasn't going to say
no." She takes a deep breath. "I see your point. I do. But this is
who she is. She will never be Annika Hansen and if you can't accept that, I
will take you off that ship so fast it makes your head spin and that little
device hit whatever is the worst level."
"Red,"
you say with a grin. "I have accepted it. And she knows that. I was just
curious why."
"Well
now you know. And for the love of God, don't bring up the catsuit."
You
laugh because that was going to be your next question.
"You
don't seem in a rush to go claim her from Chakotay." She rests her her
chin on her hand and studies you. "You're an interesting man."
"Nyah,
simple man, simple needs. If I dance with her, I can't watch her like this. See
her as others do. I like that they're friends. I like that she has people she
can trust."
"You'd
do anything for her, wouldn't you?"
"Yeah."
"That's
not your reputation. You're known as being fair but risk averse."
"I'm
still fair. But...death changes your perspective. Love does too. It's been a
long time since I've been in love."
"I'm
not sure she ever truly has been willing to let herself be. Until now. It's a
good look on her." She slips off the stool. "They've tripped the
light fantastic together long enough, wouldn't you say?"
You
follow her to the dance floor, and Seven goes easily into your arms. Her smile
is untroubled, and she presses herself much closer to you than she did to
Chakotay.
The
she reaches up and draws your face to her, so she can kiss you as you dance.
It's the kind of kiss that skirts the line between sweet and hot, and you give
yourself over to her.
"Get
a room, you two," Kathryn says with a laugh. "Chakotay, you need to
up your game. They look far more in love than we do."
Seven's
lips are trembling against yours as she tries not to laugh and you pull away,
your eyes dancing the same way hers are as you chuckle.
"You
want to get out of here and get some food? I'm starving," Kathryn says.
Seven
nods but cuddles against you, and you pull her to you for another kiss.
"Guess
the lovebirds need to have some snuggle time," Chakotay's voice is
indulgent. "Let us know when you come up for air."