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.

There Was No Pain

by Djinn



There was no pain. No fear, no doubt, till they pulled me out, of Heaven. So that's my refrain, I live in hell, 'cause I've been expelled, from Heaven. I think I was in Heaven. - "Give Me Something to Sing About" BTVS



You grew up religious. Irish-catholic from Chicago, what choice did you have? You've shed some of that over the years but like the old saying goes: "There's no atheists in foxholes" or in a cargo bay with newly turned Borg shooting at you.


You won't lie. You were praying at the end there: being a big damn hero isn't your strong suit.


It isn't even your okay suit. You suck at it. And that's been fine with you. You followed the rules and the regs and the protocols and even the unofficial workarounds that every specialist knows whether the lowest grease monkey or the captain.


You did your thing, you kept everyone safe.


You gave Hansen the ship. You called her by the name she preferred. It felt right.


If felt...over.


And there was the tunnel, and the bright light, and your mom standing at the end of it.


And she hugged you and told you everything was fine now. You'd done it. You'd kept them all safe and now you could rest.


And you did, for a moment—however long a moment was in that place.


Until you were ripped out.


By her.


With fucking Borg nanoprobes.


You were done. You were at rest. At peace.


You were fucking dead. And of course Hansen had to break the rules of God and man and bring you back.


As soon as you could walk out of Starfleet Medical on your own power, you retired and disappeared into the Sierra Nevadas.


You left your personal communicator on the bedside table. You have a burner communicator now in case the home where your Dad lives needs to contact you. You use a private network to keep up with the world but most of the time you just...exist.




Subject: Refit FUBAR


ScottyWasRight23: So much for the most advanced ship in the Fleet. The new Enterprise is a flop. Anyone see the vids of the non-launch? LMAO.


DontOverTighten: Wouldn't have happened with Shaw at the helm. Or in the engine room, where he probably would rather be. Anyone seen him? He hasn't been on the boards since the Borg thing


LeftLooseRightTight: He is totally off the grid last I heard. Died or something? Weird shit going around about him and that Borg who's captain now.


DipshitChiTown: What kind of weird shit?


LeftLooseRightTight: They were tight, if you know what I mean.


DontOverTighten: You're off your rocks. No way Ten of Ten is going to bang a Borg after Wolf359.


DipshitChiTown: Amen.




OurLadyOfTheMountains Sunday Cast:


I want to talk about new beginnings. About forgiving yourself and others. I know a lot of us here came to start over. I know it's why we don't meet in person, ever. I know it's why I've never seen your faces or gripped your hand in mine. But, friends, I can feel your pain and your presence. The power we all have to make a difference—if only to each other.


It's time to come out of the shadows. It's time to put the congregate back into congregation. Corello Park, the picnic tables by the baseball field, Monday at noon. I'll be there with a bagged lunch. Will you?





7of9: Did you really think you could hide using DipshitChiTown as a name?

DipshitChiTown: Do I know you?

7of9: Nice try. I'm here when you're ready to talk

DipshitChiTown: Sorry, don't know you

7of9: Fuck you, too, Shaw





You know it's stupid to go to the church social if you're trying to lay low, but it's not like you're a criminal, for Christ's sake. If you want to go actually lay eyes on the priest, you can.


You don't expect to see Hansen sitting on the bleachers of the baseball field. You should have, probably, after that DM on the engineering board, but you didn't.


And there's nobody at the fucking picnic tables.


She doesn't get up. She doesn't stand. So you walk over with your stupid bagged lunch and stop on the dirt looking up at her. "Is there even an Our Lady of the Mountains?"


"There is. But Raffi might have subbed in one message for another on their last broadcast when you downloaded it. The first paragraph was actual sermon, the second, not so much."


"Fuck you, Hansen."


You walk away and you hear her light steps down the stairs. The weight of being a captain seems to ride light on her shoulders. It never did you.


"I need you, Shaw. The ship's not right and you know it best."


You turn, walking backwards, trying not to think how good she looks with those dark glasses and tight jeans on. "I'm dead. Not employable."


"You're not dead because I said so. That pisses you off, I get it. But your ship needs you."


"As what? My ship is gone. Just like me." But you stop and you wait for her to catch up.


Because you can't not. You dream about her perfume, the light and spicy scent of her, every night. You sat next to her for years. Until you didn't.


She slows and stops well out of reach of you. "I need you, then."


"Do you know what this place is like?"


She looks confused. "This place? This park or this town or—"


"The fucking world. Life itself. I was done."


"I couldn't have that."


"It wasn't your call. I was..." You stop because you're not ready to give her that. Where she yanked you out of.


"I don't understand. Neelix didn't have this kind of problem with being brought back to life. He was..."


"Grateful? Fuck you, Hansen." And you turn and run, dropping your stupid ass lunch in a trash can as you go.


You run all the time, at altitude, and it's almost all you do these days. You run so you can do this—get the hell away from her as fast as you can.




Subject: Refit FUBAR Redux


ScottyWasRight23: OMG, they made it worse.


DontOverTighten: This is what happens when you kill off the fucking old timers. Goddamn Borg.


LeftLooseRightTight: I'd go help out. Have you seen the captain? Ooh la la


DipshitChiTown: JFC, can we talk about our peers without sexualizing them?


OutOfRespect: What DipshitChiTown said


LeftLooseRightTight: Fuck you both


DontOverTighten: She is hot, but smart too from what I've heard and a good captain


DipshitChiTown: Amen.





7of9: You think I'm hot?

DipshitChiTown: Get off my board

7of9: Free planet, last I checked. Is that why you're so pissed off? You wanted to die a legend? Sorry, but you would have been just one of the many who fell.

DipshitChiTown: Fuck you, Hansen

7of9: Fuck you, too, Shaw





You've never wanted to be a fucking legend. Where does she get off saying that? You were perfectly happy, once you realized how much you hated being captain, to be the safest captain, not the coolest.


To keep your people safe was everything.


You thought you taught her that. And then she went and threw it all away by working with a legend instead of you.


She was right to do it, as it turns out. She'd no doubt be dead or reassimilated by now if she hadn't helped Picard and his band of merry old men and women.


But still. She could have brought you into it. She could have asked you rather than gone behind your back. You thought you'd built that much.


But you hadn't. And she did.


And then she did it again when she raised you from the dead like fucking Lazarus only with a way worse attitude.


Fuck her.




OurLadyOfTheMountains Sunday Cast:


I want to talk about forgiveness. About the mercy we show ourselves by letting go, by forgiving yourself and others. There are things that live in the past and should stay there. There are things, though, that we bring with us from the past, and we allow them to haunt us. They become our future because we can't let go of them. We throw away the future we could have because we're so fond of our baggage.


Let it go, brothers and sisters. Let it go.





DipshitChiTown: Was that really the priest, or Raffi again?

7of9: No idea what you're talking about

DipshitChiTown: Fuck you, Hansen

7of9: Fuck you, too, Shaw





Subject: Refit FUBAR — the shit never ends


ScottyWasRight23: OMG, they made it worse—again


DontOverTighten: Rumor is Mogh Consulting is looking for someone who can help. Be an independent contractor on the Enterprise-G.


LeftLooseRightTight: Sweet deal. If I weren't on my dream assignment and three years short of full retirement, I might go for it.


DipshitChiTown: Mogh Consulting? Has anyone here even heard of that place?


OutOfRespect: I have. Great outfit. Looking for the perfect retiree. I know the boss if you want a referral?


LeftLooseRightTight: Do you know the hiring person at NG? I've been trying to get them to look at my resume forever and it goes nowhere


OutOfRespect: I don't. Sorry.


DontOverTighten: I want to actually retire when I'm retired. 212 days to go!


DipshitChiTown: Amen.




You stare at the job description Hansen sent you via the message board. Fuck her for taking every one of your goddamn skills and specialities and crafting this vacancy notice for you and only you.


You want to send it back to her with "Fuck you" written in big red font, but...


It's the Titan. Even if they've renamed it, it's still the ship you love so fucking much.


And you'd be a consultant. You could tell Hansen to shove it at any point. You could be massively disrespectful as many times as you want because the CEO of the company may cut your head off but you think he's probably piss-poor at actually disciplining anyone from this far away. Especially someone who knows the company is bullshit, made because Raffi asked him to, and named after his father.


It's not that you're bored here in the mountains. It's that you found out the cabin you've leased used to belong to James fucking Kirk.


God damn it, can you never escape these fucking legends?




Subject: Refit FUBAR — Shaw to the Rescue!


ScottyWasRight23: OMG, they made it better. Shaw, my brother, where are you?


LShaw: Sorry, was out of touch. Yeah, on the case now.


DipshitChiTown: Mogh Consulting? My how the mighty have fallen. The stories I've heard recently about that place.


WSoM: Take care how you speak of that company.


DipshitChiTown: Fuck you. Are you even an engineer?


Moderator5: Kids, let's keep it cordial.


WSoM: I demand an apology about Mogh Consulting


DipshitChiTown: Yeah, right.


Moderator5: WSoM has been banned. Damn bots.


OutOfRespect: I'm not sure DipshitChiTown is capable of keeping it cordial


DipshitChiTown: Oh, I can keep it cordial.


OutOfRespect: If you say so


LShaw: Well this place has gone to shit since I've been gone


Moderator5: We need more mods, if you're volunteering?


LShaw: So not.


OutOfRespect: Too afraid to get your hands dirty?


LShaw: I wrote the book on getting my hands dirty, grasshopper. Are you saying you want to get your hands dirty?


OutOfRespect: So not.


LeftLooseRightTight: Wait, what are you guys even talking about?


DontOverTighten: Glad to see you back, Shaw. Place has been getting a little dull without you.


DipshitChiTown: True that


OutOfRespect: Suck up


DipshitChiTown: Hey, he's a legend, right?


LShaw: Only as long as you're lumping me in with Scotty, LaForge, and Torres. Leave the captains out of it, I'm sure as shit going to.


OutOfRespect: You don't like your new captain? The hot Borg one, right?


LShaw: Your words, not mine


DontOverTighten: Totally hot


LeftLooseRightTight: But still Borg. Who needs that drama?


DipshitChiTown: Amen




You sit in the chapel, listening to the chaplain talk about forgiveness and atonement and final resting places being worth the effort.


You mutter, "Yeah if they let you stay there," and see the people in front of you flinch.


Fucking A. Everyone here knows you're resurrected. The second coming of Liam Shaw. Some like Sidney were happy to see you and squealed too loudly and hugged way too tightly—especially after months of you being alone in the fucking woods.


Others like T'Veen's sister, who is somehow sitting in her seat, look at you like maybe you could have done a teensy bit more to keep their sister from getting blown to vapor.


And then there's Hansen. Who keeps showing up after shift to Engineering to help out.


Fuck her.


"Scoot over," someone says and you do it before you realize it's Hansen.


"Seriously?" You glare at her. "You even know what that's for?" You point at the kneeler.


"Shhh," the people ahead of you say without turning around.


Hansen turns red and you...well, you feel like crap. This is some people's refuge.


Fortunately, pews have exits on both sides, and no one else is in your row, so you get up and leave, only to hear her steps behind you.


You wait till you're in a corridor that is empty and well clear of the chapel to turn to her. "What?"


"How long are you going to not talk to me for?"






"Because I wasn't dead as in nothing remained, I was dead as in dearly departed. In a good place. With my mom, who I haven't seen for twenty years. Happy—I was happy, Hansen. It was heaven, and I don't mean that as hyperbole. Because it was actual fucking heaven." You realize you're tearing up and say, "God damn it," and hurry away.


She doesn't follow you.




OurLadyOfTheMountains Sunday Cast:


I had a request last week for a sermon on second chances. This person has wronged someone and wants to know what God thinks of that. I think God made it super clear when he sacrificed his son to give us all a second chance. If you're a Christian, then you forgive.


But does that mean we have to let those who've wronged us back into our lives, because I think that's what this person wants. And the answer is no. Forgive so you can go on with your life and they can make peace with what they did. But not everyone can be trusted going forward. Not everyone can say they're sorry and mean it. Not everyone can be with us and not hurt us over and over again. Forgive yes, but forget—that's way more complicated.




You haven't seen Hansen in days. She no longer comes down to engineering.


It's a fucking relief.


Until you hear she's been hurt on a mission.




Until you find yourself heading to sickbay before you can stop yourself. Until you see Raffi coming out of sickbay and stopping, arms crossed over her chest, her expression angry.


"Is she...?"


"She's hurt. She'll recover. Do not go in there if you're just going to be a dick."


You don't know why you're here. Is it to be a dick?


You can't promise it's not.


You turn and go back to your quarters.





DipshitChiTown: Are you okay?

7of9: I'm sorry, since when do you care?

DipshitChiTown: I heard it was a bad injury.

7of9: Again, you care about this? About me?

DipshitChiTown: Did you ask for the sermon on second chances?

7of9: I did. Wanted to know if I should give you a second chance to not be a dick. Turns out I shouldn't.

DipshitChiTown: Fuck you, Hansen

7of9: Fuck you, too, Shaw





You're running from station to station, trying to keep the engines from blowing up as the ship takes hit after hit. Fucking modifications that weren't needed.


"Shields at forty percent," you hear Mura call out from the bridge and that can't be right.


You hurry over, see that the panel is fine but a circuit is fried.


You get the circuit replaced just as the ship takes another hit.


"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been one death since my last confession."


Someone laughs and you shake your head.


No atheists in foxholes.





Subject: Refit FUBAR — Shaw: the man, the legend


ScottyWasRight23: Shaw, word is you're a rockstar still in engineering. Kept that baby running during the shitshow that was the Triglion mission.


LShaw: It was a team effort


DontOverTighten: Mogh Consulting better be paying you well.


LeftLooseRightTight: I told my cousin about them but he could not figure out how to apply


DipshitChiTown: Did I not say no one has even heard of that place?


OutOfRespect: Again, I can vouch for them. But they are at capacity. LeftLooseRightTight - I did find a person at NG for you to contact. Sending it via DM


LeftLooseRightTight: You are my hero, whoever you are


OutOfRespect: Tell that to DipshitChiTown. I'm sure he thinks I'm a villain.


DontOverTighten: You two need to get a room or a boxing ring—whichever works!


DipshitChiTown: Amen to the boxing ring, ixnay on the oomray.




You're in the gym when she shows up, clearly pissed off and walks to you and pushes you off the bike you claimed before the place got packed.


People scatter.


"You want to do this? Fine." She climbs into the ring.


"You were just injured."


"I'm fully healed. I'm not an idiot." She pulls on the headgear and gloves and says, "Come on then. Let's go."


Oh, fuck her.


You turn and get the hell out of the gym. One more place you're not safe from her. But then she can reach into the fucking afterlife to harass you so this isn't really a surprise.





7of9: I saw your evaluation of me. You were so nice. Why can't you be that Liam Shaw?

DipshitChiTown: That Liam Shaw died. Should have let him stay dead. Since he didn't want to come back, he sent me

7of9: I would do it again. Starfleet needs you. I need you.

DipshitChiTown: Fuck you, Hansen

7of9: Fuck you, too, Shaw





You're drunk as fuck, stumbling back to the transporter site on Castella when someone hits you over the head with something hard and spiky.


You fall as your head explodes with pain and blood drips into your eyes. More than one person rifles through your pockets, looking for God knows what because you only have credits, not actual latinum or any other kind of money.


A kick in the ribs is your reward for giving nothing to the poor, then another kick and another and you realize you could actually die again this way.


And that pisses you off.


You kick out, bring the person kicking you to the ground and hear Hansen yelling, "Hey!"


And then she's fighting your battle and that pisses you off too.


"Stay down. You're hurt."


"Fuck you." But you're unsteady as shit as you stand.


She moves until she's supporting you, her back to yours. "At least let me help you?"


"Yeah, that's fine."


And then before you can hit anyone, Raffi's entered the fray, grabbed the spiky club thing from one of the attackers, and is hitting home runs with it.


"I didn't even get a fucking punch in," you say as you collapse into Hansen's arms.


"Seven, you okay?"




"I've got this. Get him to sickbay."


"Seven to Enterprise, two to beam directly to sickbay."


You're losing consciousness as the transporter takes you. You wake up in sickbay.







DipshitChiTown: I guess I should say thank you?

7of9: Only if you mean it.

DipshitChiTown: I'm not sure I do

7of9: I couldn't let you die. Not this time. Not last time.

DipshitChiTown: Fuck you, Seven

7of9: Fuck you, too, Shaw

7of9: Wait, did you just make a mistake? A typo? On my name?

DipshitChiTown: Do I strike you as a guy who makes a mistake like that?

7of9: No.

DipshitChiTown: Okay then. Fuck you, Seven

7of9: Fuck you, too, Liam





OurLadyOfTheMountains Sunday Cast:


I got another anonymous request. This time about near death experiences and how to go on when you felt like you were done. I'm not sure who precisely needs to hear about this, but I have a feeling it's not just one person. So here goes.


If you're here, it wasn't your time.


Harsh? Perhaps. I've read the accounts—heard them by people who've experienced the light and grace of what comes after but were for whatever reason pulled back to life. I know it can be jarring, depressing even.


But you're clearly needed here. That's truly how I think you need to look at it. You are needed. And Heaven's not going anywhere. It'll be waiting for you when your work is finally done.




You're sitting in the mess when she comes up with a tray. There is a helplessness in her look you can't resist so you slide a chair out so she can sit.


You eat in silence until she very softly asks, "What was heaven like?"


"It was quiet. And my mom was there. And it was warm. And safe. Like...already and always safe. I didn't have to do anything to make it that way. I didn't have to do anything at all."


"It sounds like Unimatrix Zero."


"I don't know what that is."


"A Borg dream-state place. It's gone now. I can't get there anymore."


Fuck. Maybe she does understand?


"Did you request the sermon this week?" she asks gently.


You nod. You're shocked she's listening to that cast still.


"You are needed, Liam." Your name on her lips, rather than just on a screen, throws you. So much you can't get out a smart-ass answer.




She smiles and keeps eating.


You get up to refill your coffee and take her mug too. You long ago learned how she likes her coffee.


"Thank you," she says as you put it down and you think she's thanking you for more than just the coffee.


"I wanted to stay there, Seven."


"I know. I'm sorry."




Subject: Refit FUBAR — Position open


ScottyWasRight23: OMG, chief engineer is open on the Enterprise. Shaw, why is this not you taking this?


LShaw: Retired, man. Civilian now.


DontOverTighten: Starfleet would take you back in a hot minute if you just gave the word


LShaw: the word is not given


DipshitChiTown: What was it like being dead?


LShaw: There was something there. I don't know if it's the same for everyone. But there was something there. Just in case anyone was worried


LeftLooseRightTight: That's just the brain shutting down man. Electrons firing for the last time.


OutOfRespect: I heard you were dead long enough for all brain activity to cease? So this thing you saw—it's real


DipshitChiTown: I heard the same thing


DontOverTighten: So was it heaven or hell? LOL


ScottyWasRight23: And didn't the harps and trumpets get old?


LShaw: It was quiet. And...nice. No harps. Just a sense of being in the right place at the right time.


OutOfRespect: Until it wasn't? Until you were brought back.


LShaw: Yeah, I wish I'd had a say in that.


DipshitChiTown: Amen.





Your door chime rings and you say, "Don't come," but it keeps going, the way only Seven does. "Fine, open."


She's not in uniform and comes in and sits on the bed.


"Make yourself at home, Captain."


"Do you want to be chief engineer?"


"Are you serious?" You can't tell if she is or not.


"Would you want that? Because if you would, I'd move heaven and earth to get it for you. And yes, I realize how stupid what I just said sounds given where you believe you were."


"Where I believe I was?"


"Answer my question? Your work here is almost done as a civilian. We both know that the company you work for has a staff of one—you. Do you want to be free or do you want to be here?"


"With you?"




"As your chief engineer?"


She isn't looking away. "Yes."


"And what else?"


"Nothing for now. Just that. For now."


You don't know what you're going to do with your life if you leave the ship. And you love these engines like they're your own children. "Yeah, I want it."


"Okay then."





7of9: You'll be reinstated as of tomorrow at your old rank.

DipshitChiTown: So I guess heaven and Earth move quickly

7of9: When I want something, yes

DipshitChiTown: And I'm what you want?

7of9: Yes

DipshitChiTown: On your ship, you mean. As your head of engineering, you said. Nothing more.

7of9: Define more.

DipshitChiTown: Fuck you, Seven

7of9: Fuck you, too, Liam





Subject: Shaw, WTF?


ScottyWasRight23: Dude, I thought you were staying civilian? I was going to throw my name in the hat.


LShaw: Sorry, man. These engines are the love of my life


DontOverTighten: Or something on that ship is LOL


LeftLooseRightTight: Yeah, maybe those rumors were true.


DipshitChiTown: Give the guy a break.


OutOfRespect: For once I agree with DipshitChiTown


LShaw: Settle down, everyone. Let me get used to wearing this uniform again before you start yanking my chain okay?


LeftLooseRightTight: You want non-engineers to yank it first? Come on!


OutOfRespect: LOL


DontOverTighten: Yeah, engineers have first dibs on ribbing!


DipshitChiTown: Amen.




You're on a planet riding out an ion storm with your captain. She's pacing in the cave you've taken shelter in.


"You told me this would happen." She meets your eyes and sighs.


"Sure did." You see no reason not to say it. You did tell her, in the staff meeting, and she ignored you. And if you both hadn't been so resolved to let everyone else beam back first, you would not be stuck here together.


For the next few hours.


But she doesn't listen to anyone if she's got it in her mind to run with a plan, and you think she's starting to see that maybe her experts are on the ship for a fucking reason, not to just have their suggestions overruled while she makes like Kirk or Janeway.


With a sigh she sits down next to you, her leg pressing against yours. "Fuck. I fucked up."


"Apt summation of the situation." You reach out to stop her from jiggling her leg and she captures your hand and you both sit staring out at the storm, not looking at each other, not talking.


Finally, you twine your fingers with hers and she leans her head on your shoulder.


"Do you still wish I'd let you die, Liam?"


"Not right at this moment, no."






OurLadyOfTheMountains Sunday Cast:


I want to talk today about grace. Not just the grace God gives to us, but the grace we give to each other. Humans are imperfect creatures. We strike out when we're hurt. Or we retreat.


We so rarely give each other the grace of truly reaching out: in love, in forgiveness, in understanding.


I know we're all up here in these mountains for our own reasons. I know we've all been singed a bit by life. And that's okay. I call that seasoning, not damage. A patina, not a wound.


Life bruises us. It's just the way it is.


But bruises fade.


Offer grace to someone today. Or accept it if it's someone else offering it to you.


That's all, brothers and sisters.





DipshitChiTown: I just want to say, what you did, bringing me back. It's okay. I understand.

7of9: You're giving me grace?

DipshitChiTown: I can't believe you're listening to that thing still

7of9: Could say the same for you

DipshitChiTown: But I actually believe in that stuff, you don't

7of9: I know. I believe in you though.

DipshitChiTown: That's nice. Go to sleep. Oh and fuck you, Seven

7of9: Fuck you, too, Liam





It's a party Seven's thrown. A sing-along and you're not sure why you're watching a twentieth century teen horror show, but you know the words so you sing along like everyone else.


"How the hell do you know the words?" you ask her when the credits roll.


"Tom Paris was a student of that time. He loved Buffy and this episode was his favorite."


"Well yeah, it's a classic." And hit home. You can tell she's reading what you're feeling. She's getting way too good at that.


"I guess you could relate to that one song, huh? I wish I could give you something to sing about."


"You gave me my engines."


"Can I give you a dance?" She points to the center of the lounge, where people are starting to dance to slow and sexy music. "Or perhaps more aptly, can you give me one?"


"I like to dance. I guess I like you. Why not combine them?" You let her lead you into the middle of the group.


"You guess you like me? Thanks, Liam. Way to bowl a girl over."


"Wasn't aware you needed to be bowled over." Pulling her close, you smell the perfume you've dreamed about since she first came aboard your ship. You've never been this close to her on purpose.


She pulls you closer and you let her. Your lips are on her hair and you move it out of the way and kiss her neck before you can think better of it.


She doesn't tell you to stop, only pulls you in closer. "I love you. Even if you don't love me." She's whispering this in your ear, her breath warm, as warm as her body pressed against you, as her intentions no doubt were as she brought you back to life.


"I love you, too, Seven."


"Do you want to go to one of our quarters and make out the way Buffy and Spike just did?"


"They did more than just make out."


She smiles, and it's a wicked smile he's never seen. "I know. Tom made me watch the whole series."


"You're sure about this? You'll be breaking every rule for me, Seven."


"Seems fair. Unless you don't want that risk?"


"What do I care? I died, remember?"


She runs her hand down your cheek. "I know. I have nightmares that I don't bring you back. You have them because I did. Ironic, huh?"




By mutual accord you dance for a while before you head out, to her quarters, which were your quarters but now look so different.


"It was too dark," she says, almost in apology.


"It was. I didn't live in the light." You frown. "It's true in so many ways. I died with my friends at Wolf 359 and it wasn't until you got here that I came back to life."


"Sort of."


"Yeah. Sort of." You see your knives, now on the wall, wired in place. "You kept these?"


"Do you want them back?"


"No. Why'd you keep them?"


"They were all I had of you."


"You sure you want that to change? I'm no prize package."


"I know but..." She moves close and traces your lips. "I think you are."


"This is grace, Seven."


"Yes," she says, as she starts removing your clothes. "This is."




Subject: Refit FUBAR — Uhhhhhh?


ScottyWasRight23: Shaw, saw you with your captain at a Command party. You weren't even trying to hide that you're together. What the everlovin' fuck?


DontOverTighten: I thought you guys looked great together.


LeftLooseRightTight: Same.


LShaw: I'm happy. She's happy. Command hasn't courtmartialed us. End of story.


DipshitChiTown: Happy for you, bro! She's a lucky lady.


OutOfRespect: I think it's more he's a lucky guy.


LeftLooseRightTight: Hey, OutOfRespect, thank you for the POC at NG. Things are going well.


OutOfRespect: Yay!


DontOverTighten: Not sure who you are, but in my book, you rock.


DipshitChiTown: Amen.




DipshitChiTown: Time to retire those usernames I think.

7of9: Consider OutOfRespect retired.

LShaw: This feels better

7of9: Get over here and I'll make it feel even better.

LShaw: I'll be right there. Fuck you, Seven

7of9: Fuck you, too, Liam