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) 2024 by Djinn. This story is Rated R.

The Sacredness of Tears (Part 1)

by Djinn

 

There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love. - Washington Irving

 

 

Prologue

 

Janeway stood with Picard behind the one-way observation screen, feeling a deep sense of helplessness as Counselor Troi tried to get Seven to talk. "They should have conferred with us before they used the new tech on her."

 

"Yes, Kathryn, they should have." Picard's voice held a sorrow that told Janeway just how much esteem he held Seven in.

 

Janeway had taken the command test—so had the rest of her people. It was designed to pull out your deepest regrets, weaknesses, or poor decisions, and let you live them again in your mind where you could find ways to solve them. Over and over until you were at peace. It was the Kobayashi Maru test but inverted so you could win—after you relived the trauma. Generally people faced two or three traumas but some only had to face one.

 

But Seven's Borg interfaces had interfered with the system's ability to go from uncovering the weakness and reliving to solving the issue. And it hadn't just found a few—it kept going, pulling more and more out of her while letting her solve none.

 

She had been catatonic when she'd finally been disconnected without risk to her system. It was a testament to how strong she was that she'd fought her way back to consciousness. That she could walk and talk, and her higher cognition abilities were untouched according to every standard test they had.

 

But choices lived in the memories and she couldn't make big ones. Even small ones took a long time as she weighed all the repercussions of choosing this shirt or that one, this pizza topping or that.

 

And Janeway knew that she knew she was compromised. She knew why her hands were shaking when she reached for a weapon, why she found it impossible to speak beyond surface level to those who knew her best.

 

Seven looked through the screen, looked at them even though the wallpaper wouldn't be any different on that wall than any other. She was too smart not to know they were watching her—and had become too feral as a Ranger not to feel exactly where the "threat" was coming from.

 

Janeway looked away, but then jerked her head up when Seven said, "I am emotionally compromised, Admiral Janeway. Give the Enterprise to someone else."

 

"No," she said, her tone as sharp as the pain she felt.

 

Picard sighed next to her. "Jack's been trying to keep the ship's name change from me. I've let him since it seems to give him such pleasure to have a gift for me. It won't be a gift if she's not in the center seat."

 

"I concur. Do you agree that your solution isn't working? Troi's getting nowhere."

 

He nodded and was about to call Troi in, but she stopped him. "I have an idea. It's a terrible one, but I want to try." She walked to the connecting door to a waiting lounge and motioned Chakotay, Naomi, Musiker, Sidney LaForge, and Ohk in. "We're going to go in one at a time, just talk to her about innocuous things. I want to see if Troi can tell if any of us are breaking through to where she might want to talk more deeply if we were someplace that was more private."

 

Picard seemed confused. "That doesn't seem like a terrible idea."

 

"This isn't the terrible part. Can you call in Troi?"

 

He nodded and murmured something in his combadge that would go to the earbud Troi was wearing.

 

Troi left the room and came in from the waiting lounge, her expression defeated. "She's convinced she will not move past this."

 

"I know." She explained what she had in mind. "I'll go first. Can you read her from here?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Everyone else in the waiting area until you're called." When Picard showed no sign of leaving, she murmured, "You too, Admiral. Seven deserves as much privacy as we can give her." She walked behind him, exiting the lounge and heading down the hall to the interview room, trying to be not Admiral Janeway, CINC in charge of so many things, but Captain Janeway who had rescued Seven, had loved her enough to deal with her bullshit as she adapted, had let her take the man she loved because both Seven and Chakotay deserved to be happy—even if that hadn't happened.

 

She palmed the door open, and Seven looked up. Her smile was her regular one, but there was exhaustion behind it. She wasn't sleeping on top of everything else. That alone had forced Janeway to unofficially remove her from duty by marking her as on sabbatical before Ohk had to do it officially.

 

She sat and took Seven's hands in hers, the warm metallic of the hand implant so familiar. "What do you say we take the dogs and go away for a while? Just you and me? Anywhere you want."

 

"Your husband might have a problem with that."

 

"I'd be willing to bring Chakotay with us if it would cheer you up."

 

"I don't need cheering up. My sense of humor is intact—just not terribly active after that..." She swallowed hard. "Test."

 

"We could leave the dogs at home with Chakotay." She grinned.

 

"Is he in there watching this?" She nodded to the wall that really did look completely normal.

 

"No. But Troi is."

 

"Assessing if you're getting through to me? I'm not going to change my mind. Kathryn, how many horrible decisions have I made in my life? How many more am I going to make? I'm saving you a world of regret." She leaned back and with a gentle smile, said, "Next."

 

Janeway sighed.

 

"How many of my friends are you going to send in to try to break me down?"

 

"No one is here to break you down. But I'll send enough of them in that I'm satisfied there's not someone out there you'll trust enough to talk this out with."

 

"This isn't about trust. I do trust you. I trust you to find me a position where I can do theoretical things that won't hurt anyone." She was tearing up and dashed the tears away angrily. "Fuck these goddamn tears."

 

But she hadn't cried with Troi. Maybe that was progress?

 

Janeway got up, put her hand on Seven's shoulder for a long moment, then went back to Troi.

 

"She loves you, Admiral. But she won't change her mind for you."

 

"Let's try the others."

 

But as she suspected, it was the same answer. Seven loved all of them to varying degrees in varying ways. But no one opened up an urge for her to...connect.

 

"Now comes the terrible part," she said with a wry grin at Troi as she hit her combadge. "Janeway to Commodore Shaw."

 

"Shaw here."

 

"You doing anything it would hurt people or materiel to leave?"

 

"No, ma'am."

 

"Then please come to Starfleet Medical. I'll meet you at the entrance."

 

"Roger that. Shaw out."

 

Troi studied her. "I sense you have a great deal of hope that he is the answer."

 

"He's the only one of us who doesn't love her."

 

"Well..."

 

"Fine. He's the only one of us she isn't sure loves her."

 

"Yes, that's accurate." Troi smiled gently.

 

Janeway left her to go meet Shaw. She read him in as they walked, could see the anger filling him.

 

"Nobody thought it might be a really shitty idea to put her under that thing?"

 

"As I said, I would have said no. Have you undergone it?"

 

"Fuck, no. I went through how many years of therapy to get functional again? You think I'm going to put my peace of mind in the hands of a bunch of biotech yahoos? I refused and since Starfleet is super short of engineers after Frontier Day, I got promoted anyway."

 

"She should have refused too."

 

"She wouldn't. She's desperate to belong." He shot her a hard look and she swallowed—visibly. Damn the man for being so perceptive.

 

But also it might be what solved this.

 

And it had to be solvable. Seven was exceptional and deserved the ship.

 

She stopped at the door to the room, told him to give her five minutes to get in place in the observation room, and then go in. She was back with Troi when he opened the door and Seven turned.

 

"Oh." Troi said, the word coming out so hopeful it made her stomach leap. "Relief. She feels overwhelming relief at seeing him."

 

He was staring at Seven, not smiling, but not hostile. "Hansen, nice digs. Not where I expected to find you."

 

"You know what happened?"

 

"I know. I told them where to shove that fucking test. You should have too."

 

"Yeah, I really should have." She dashed more tears away and said, "Fucking tears all the fucking time. Side effect of knowing how much you suck at being a person."

 

"Are you a crybaby now, Captain Seven?"

 

"Fuck you, Commodore Shaw."

 

"Fuck you, too." He grinned at her and she rolled her eyes.

 

Troi moved closer to the screen, nodding. "She feels safe with him, Admiral. Annoyed, but safe."

 

He leaned in and started talking so low, Janeway could no longer hear. She rushed to enhance the sound, heard only, "Let's get the fuck out here." And then he was up, holding out his hand, and Seven took it long enough for him to pull her up, and they walked out of the room.

 

"Shit." She hit her combadge. "Janeway to Shaw."

 

"Shaw here." He sounded both pissed off and very amused—no doubt at his own daring. "Hey, Admiral, tell Bey-Bey that the inventory project I was working on is going to be super late."

 

"Get back here. Going off half-cocked..."

 

"Is completely my style when I'm this angry. So I suggest you get out of my way and let me do what I think best for my former first officer."

 

Janeway looked at Troi who made a sort of helpless shrugging gesture. "Fine, but I expect—"

 

"Shaw out."

 

Troi laughed. "He is a unique individual."

 

"Damaged."

 

"It's not my place to comment on that."

 

"But he is. And sometimes damage calls to damage."

 

"Yes. It does."

 

"Then I guess we wait and see what happens."

 

 

 

1.

 

Shaw reached back and felt Seven take his hand as they walked—or more accurately trotted—out of Starfleet Command. He didn't let go of her, didn't want her to stop following him and him to not be aware of it.

 

"Wait," she said when they were almost off campus.

 

He stopped and turned.

 

"I can't let you do this. You have a position, responsibilities."

 

"Uh huh." He smiled gently, probably an expression she had little experience with when it came to him.

 

"You're a commodore now."

 

"Yeah. Which means we'll get to cut every transporter line on our way out of here." Then he frowned. "Do you have a place you want to go?"

 

He could practically see the wheels of her brain slowing, getting caught up in the gunk of whatever the fuck they did to her with that goddamn test. "Belay that. I have a place I'd like to take you. Okay?"

 

"Don't we need stuff?"

 

"I can travel light. I bet as a Ranger you did it all the time? We'll just cut out all reckless and shit—you know old school Seven of Nine style."

 

She laughed softly but then her amusement faded. "I'm not that Seven anymore." She took a step back. "And you shouldn't have to be the one to do this." Her mood was changing, plummeting, laughter forgotten as her eyes welled. "I got you killed. I ran though it so many ways and it always ended with you on the floor." She took another step back and he knew he was about to lose her.

 

So he closed the gap, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her—hoping to fuck that he had not misread any signals from her during their mission because otherwise he was so up on charges.

 

But she didn't fight him; she melted into him, her lips soft, her mouth opening to his, her arms around his neck, body pressed against his. He could hear people passing them, someone said, "Yeah, baby. You go now," and he could feel her losing it at the same time he did.

 

He pulled away, laughing as he brushed her hair back. "Before we go anywhere, I should probably tell you that I'm in love with you."

 

Her smile was huge and surprised and—delighted. "For real? This isn't pity or guilt over the name or just basic compassion?"

 

"Really isn't. And it's okay if you don't love me. I mean you're going through a lot and I don't want to force my needs on you—" He had to stop talking because she was kissing him some more.

 

"You're an idiot," she said as she eased away. "Take us wherever you want."

 

"That's a decision."

 

"It's a no brainer, though. Also I'm leaving the location up to you."

 

He assessed her emotional state—maybe this was just about him being her captain, someone she could follow and not have to make decisions. Except that she'd mostly argued with him and she'd had two of her other captains there not getting through to her. Also he presumed she hadn't been kissing Janeway or Picard.

 

He was going to go on faith that she had actual interest in him and had just hidden it on account of him being such a giant dick to her. "Okay, hang on one second." He pulled out his padd and punched in the code for his cousin Joseph.

 

"Hey, cuz." Joseph was sitting in what looked like a diner. He was eating as he asked, "What's up?"

 

"Laura still own that rental cabin on Hood Canal?"

 

"Yeah. It's free too since it's off season. No heating though other than the fireplace and wood stove. Not sure how it's set up for firewood. Plenty of branches to use. You know how to chop wood?"

 

"I do," Seven murmured.

 

"Heard that. Ooh, Liam boy, you've got yourself a woman finally. And she's handy. Let me talk to her."

 

She laughed and eased into frame. "Hi."

 

"Wow. When he gets interested, he picks a good one. Although, didn't you work for him?"

 

Shaw made the face that had always brought this particular cousin in line when he'd had to babysit him as a kid.

 

"Fine, sorry, none of my business. House is yours till late spring if you want it. Sending you the info sheet and scan your retinas for the door and the replicator for me. Once you transport in, if the flitters are locked up, call my friend Lucas. He'll take you to the house."

 

"Can he loan us a flitter of our own so we can explore?"

 

"There is very little Lucas can't get his hands on if there's enough profit in it."

 

"Nice to know your class of friend hasn't changed, Joey."

 

"Fuck you, Liam. I'm letting you and your lady have the house for free. Laura will skin me alive if she finds out. South Shore is premium real estate."

 

"I know. Thank you." He knew what Joey was braving. Laura was formidable at any moment—he'd hate to see her pissed.

 

They scanned their eyes then signed off, and he held out his hand. "Ever been to Hood Canal?"

 

"No."

 

"Me neither. At least it won't be the first place they look for us." He touched his combadge. "Do you think they will try to find us? If so, we need to ditch these."

 

"They're useful though in case of an emergency. We don't want to be reckless and—what if we need help? What if you're hurt and I don't have a communicator and..." There was downright panic in her voice.

 

"Whoa. We'll keep them. It's okay."

 

She was breathing faster than normal, eyes welling. "I feel myself spiraling down around decisions. Like I want to tell you to ditch them and we can just go. That would be smart. But not if we need them. Then it's not. Which would I regret more? But I know that this isn't normal for me to...dither this way. I know this is stupid." She began to tremble but then there was a stillness he really didn't like.

 

She looked like she was about to disassociate the way he used to after Wolf, so he pulled her to him and stroked her hair, shaking her very, very gently to disrupt the path her mind was taking. "I get it. Maybe we can talk about that. You said you ran through my death so many ways. But Janeway said you never got to the solution phase."

 

"I didn't...tell her—or anyone—everything." She met his eyes. "Except you. I'll tell you."

 

"Do you want to do it now? Or later?" He'd hated having conversations pushed on him before he was ready when he was spiraling. He wasn't going to do that to her. But if she needed to do it now, they'd wait to go to the cabin till morning.

 

"After we get there. I don't want to be here."

 

He touched her eyebrow implant, for the first time free to run his fingers over it, to try to figure out how she'd gone from the Borg he'd seen in the logs to this gorgeous creature. "You realize that's a decision, right? One you made easily. Also, sparing your friends the pain of knowing it was way worse than they think—that's a decision too."

 

"I hadn't really thought of that. I'm so tired I can't think straight." She smiled, an exhausted smile. "They know I haven't been sleeping. But what they don't know is I fall asleep easily but I have nightmares. Over and over of the scenarios from the test. I wake up terrified. So I stay awake—with help." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a packet.

 

He knew what it held. Stims. He'd used them too. "Okay. We'll play this by ear. And I've been there. I understand."

 

"You're the only one I feel safe with. I know I'm hurting the others by not trusting them enough. Raffi especially."

 

"Are you two—am I getting in the middle of something?"

 

She shook her head.

 

"That's it?"

 

She nodded.

 

He could tell that wasn't it. But exploring it could wait. "Let's get our asses to the cabin and chop some wood before it gets dark."

 

"Okay."

 

They made their way to the nearest transporter station, and with his rank got to use the VIP line and beam directly to a town called Belfair. As Joey had predicted, the flitters were in storage for the winter so he punched in the number for Lucas and told him their story. "We could really use a flitter we can rent for the duration rather than just a lift? Is that doable?"

 

Lucas laughed. "For a price, anything is doable."

 

They did just enough haggling to make it feel good for both of them, and a few minutes later a flitter landed on the pad in front of where the rest were stored.

 

"My lady," he said, bowing her into the thing and following her in. He gave the navigation system the address and settled back.

 

She was staring out the window and he followed her gaze but saw only trees in the growing darkness.

 

"You okay?"

 

"If this is too much—if I'm too much—we go back. Okay?"

 

He could tell she didn't want an argument or logic or declarations of loyalty or love. So he just said, "Okay."

 

She reached for his hand and he took it, holding lightly, enjoying being close to her. "Liam, the woman you fell in love with... I may not be her anymore."

 

"I don't believe that. Maybe some of you is lost, but you'll find her. You're too damned stubborn not to, Hansen."

 

Her hand didn't even jump in his at the once hated name. "We don't know that."

 

"Well, okay, so if you don't find her, what then?"

 

"I find a place where I can use my brain and not have to make tough choices."

 

"I'm pretty sure I'd like that Seven too."

 

She laughed softly, almost against her will he could tell. "I've missed you, Liam. If you love me, why did you stay away?"

 

"Because I figured if you wanted me, you'd come find me. Nothing stops you if you're set on a path. And if you didn't come, then you didn't want me enough. I'm kind of gone on you. I wanted you to be that way for me too."

 

She leaned back and cuddled against him. "I want you to have your Seven. Let's wait on sex until we know if she's...recoverable."

 

"Whatever's most comfortable for you. But for the record, you're not that far off from her."

 

"You're wrong. The book I write will be dull."

 

"Oh, fuck me. Did they show that to you?"

 

She laughed and nodded, pulling him down to kiss her.

 

He decided not to question why sex was off the table if kisses this good were allowed. He was not a stupid man.

 

The flitter settled down on the surface road and eased into a parking space under some evergreens. The cabin was rustic but it had a big pile of wood under a tarp.

 

"Someone was bored," he said with a laugh. "Or working on their arms."

 

"Whichever, we're set for a while." She followed him out of the flitter and then into the house, smiling. "The replicator looks out of place in a place this old."

 

"It really does." It was big too—the kind of replicator that could create clothing and other things. "I'm going to order us some warm clothes. It's freezing in here."

 

"I'll get the fires going." She lifted the lid on the wood stove, dug around with a tool set near it, then replaced the lid and disappeared outside.

 

He had credits to spare so he splurged and laid things out into two piles as they showed up. By the time he got done, she had started both fires. "Impressive."

 

"Used to do it a lot as a Ranger. Not a Borg skill."

 

Her expression changed and he could tell she was in the memories of the test, but he didn't want to break her out this time. He wanted to see if she could break herself out. She screwed her eyes tighter, seemed to be talking in a language his universal translator couldn't follow—Borg? Something else from the Delta Quadrant, but one that Voyager had never run into so it wasn't in Starfleet's language database?

 

Her knuckles were white—or at least the ones on her right hand were. The left were under the implant and it didn't change.

 

Finally, she lifted her head and met his eyes. There were tears in hers but she didn't look like she wanted comfort. Instead, she went to the pile of clothes and said, "You shouldn't have had to buy anything. Not when you're doing this for me."

 

"You can buy dinner."

 

She nodded and went to the replicator, ordering some local seafood offerings, and a really expensive bottle of white Bordeaux.

 

He stopped her before she scanned in to finalize the order. "I don't want you wasting your credits on fancy wine."

 

With a tight laugh, she hit "Check balance" and scanned in. An ungodly sum showed up.

 

"Wow, you really should have bought the clothes."

 

She laughed again, this time a real laugh. "I used to do odd jobs—usually scientific or engineering consulting for probably not terribly reputable customers but it brought in funds and those were in short supply for the Rangers. I wanted to make a difference and it was hard to do that if you were broke. I'd forgotten how much I had. On the ship..."

 

"Stuff's basically free—in exchange for our service." Room and board was provided. Morale funds covered a certain number of recreational beverages and special occasion meals. It was rare for Starfleet personnel to eat into their own credit line unless they had really expensive tastes—or a problem with over-recreating.

 

She held out her hand and said, "Let's explore the cabin."

 

There were two bedrooms and a small bathroom on the main level as well as a kitchen and breakfast nook and the small living room with the fireplace in the middle and a wood-stove just before you turned for the kitchen. A door by the bathroom revealed a nearly vertical staircase that led up to an unfinished attic set up with a lot of beds. They had to stoop unless they stood in the middle, under the ridge.

 

He grinned. "This would be so fucking fun for kids."

 

She pointed to a spider web. "Except for that."

 

"Forgot your vibe is industrial not rustic." He winked at her then climbed down the staircase to the main level. As they stood together, looking out at the night, waiting for the replicator, he asked, "So you want your own room or...? I don't want to assume anything."

 

"I'm going to disturb you if we share."

 

"I didn't ask what was going to happen if you slept with me. I asked if you wanted to."

 

"Very much."

 

"Then, okay. I've been there, Seven. Nightmares that made me want to swear off sleeping for the rest of my life. I kept my parents awake. I guess this is me paying that forward."

 

She walked to him and hugged him tightly. "Thank you."

 

He pulled her in closer. "You never have to thank me. Even if I wasn't head over heels for you, you're one of my crew. And that means something for, well, ever."

 

The replicator pinged and they decided to eat on the front porch, which had a glider on one side and chairs on the other. Stairs led down to the yard and then the beach and dock beyond. The soft swish of the water serenaded them as they rocked gently back and forth on the glider.

 

"It's so peaceful," she said as she sipped the wine.

 

"I can't wait to see what it looks like in daylight, when we can actually see it."

 

##

 

Seven lay shivering in the bed next to Liam, trying to get warm by will alone. They had all their clothes on and still it was freezing.

 

"Fuck this," he finally said and climbed out of bed, urging her out too and then he slid the mattress off the bed, tipped it up while she captured the loose bed linens, and dragged it out in front of the now banked fireplace. "Get that thing stoked back up and I'll make us a fort."

 

"A fort?"

 

He turned to look at her. "Shit. You've never had a sleepover, have you?"

 

"I've slept over."

 

"Not a sexy one. A fun one."

 

"Sexy ones can be fun."

 

He conceded that with a laugh. "Work with me. As a kid. You weren't with other kids for long and the rest of the time you were just with your parents, right?"

 

"They would pretend me sleeping on the couch when they had to commandeer my room to stash supplies in was a sleepover."

 

"Your parents truly sucked."

 

She looked down. "Yeah."

 

He walked over and pulled her in for a hug. "We'll have a sleepover now. And be warm. Okay?" His lips on her forehead felt so good, his arms around her made her feel safe.

 

"If I had met you years ago..." She imagined how Icheb would have reacted, how at first he might not have liked him. But he'd grow to. If she had, he would too.

 

"I wish we had." He tipped her chin up and kissed her very gently. "But that wasn't our time. If I learned anything in therapy, I learned that if you didn't live it, it wasn't yours to regret not having."

 

She met his eyes. "And that's why you wouldn't do this test. It's all about living times that aren't yours."

 

He nodded. "Maybe if you haven't done the work, it's a good tool for uncovering problem areas. But I have done the work so fuck them and their stupid test."

 

"What if they make it mandatory?"

 

"Then I'll retire and go to one of the many companies that have reached out since I came back. I have options. So, for the record, do you. Some of these same companies were feeling me out about whether you might be interested when you got done with this mission."

 

"Really? You're not just saying that to be sweet?"

 

"In the time you have known me, have I ever lied to be sweet?"

 

She laughed. "No."

 

"Asked and answered." He eased her out of the way as he pulled the cushions off the couch and set them up between the couch and the mattress. "For when we want to sit up. The best pillow forts have covers but I don't want to block the heat."

 

She got the fire going and put more wood in the stove while he settled the covers back on the mattress. "This feels so good," she said as she pulled off her top layers and got under the covers with him.

 

The crackle of the fire was soothing and she knew the safety screen would keep sparks from flying at them without blocking any heat.

 

"Could you tell me what's going on with you and Raffi? I'd really like to temper my expectations if you and she are just in an off again phase."

 

"No, we're done."

 

"But she's your first officer. How's that working out?"

 

"Good, actually." She sighed. "Or it was until... It's speculation at this point."

 

"About what?" He pulled off his sweater and then eased her in to cuddle.

 

"I think she was involved with the test. She was pretty gung ho that I take it—more than just excitement that she'd had a good experience with it. She used to get frustrated with me, with my unwillingness to examine my life, my regrets—my fuck ups." She moved so she could see his face. "When I left her the last time was when she went back to intel. She was on Earth though and we were still trying to find a way to make it work. I'd stop in, we'd go out, try to talk about things that mattered and fail. Until one day she was gone, and I guess that's when she started working with Worf on the project we know about."

 

"Do you want her to be a bad guy in this?"

 

"No. I don't want my first officer to have built a tool that would help her force out of me what I wouldn't give willingly." She realized she was crying and said, "God damn it. These fucking tears won't stop."

 

"It's okay. I'm not judging. Believe me. I know how close they can be when you're on the edge."

 

"It's just...she can force things. Manipulate if she can't get things voluntarily."

 

"We all do that to some extent."

 

"Right, but she's got it down to an art. I think it has to do with being an addic—" She looked away.

 

"Ohhhhh. Shit. I didn't know."

 

"Fuck. I did not mean to share that. It's really not mine to share."

 

"Yeah but living with an addict affects the non-addict too. I saw that with my aunt and uncle."

 

"She got sober. But she never stopped pushing. And I was the very worst person for that because you know how stubborn I can be."

 

"Uh huh. You make a mule look malleable."

 

She laughed. "She and I are done, Liam." She moved even further back, studied him, then reached out and touched his beard the way she'd always wanted to, tracing the outline of it, watching as he sighed and closed his eyes at her touch. "She asked me if something was going on between us after she and Worf gave that presentation. You had your hand on the back of my chair."

 

"Yeah, I did. No one was taking you for their team. Not your ex. Not Picard. You were with me." He looked a little sheepish. "But I didn't exactly clear that with you."

 

"You didn't have to. Dysfunctional as we were, we were a command team."

 

He nodded. "Are you going to talk to her about the test?"

 

"I don't know. Maybe I just won't go back." She could feel the tears again and didn't try to stop them this time. "Maybe I'll let Starfleet take back the ship they probably never wanted me on much less the captain of."

 

"No."

 

"Why not? Because you don't want to hang out with me here forever?"

 

"Well, we've only got it till late spring. Unless we want to rent the house for the entire high season and given your credit balance, we could." He grinned. "Seven, I'm in this. I just walked out on B'Elanna fucking Torres, who I idolize and love and am just a little bit terrified of. Without a second thought. Because it was you. I will always choose you." His eyes narrowed. "And you chose me. There were others trying to help you, right?"

 

She nodded. "People I love but not enough or not in the right way to talk to about this." She sighed.

 

"You're tired of talking about this." He grinned at her. "Let's sleep. I'm here for you if you need me. If you have a nightmare."

 

She nodded and curled into him like she was a cat and he was her only source of comfort. Sleep claimed her quickly, and the nightmares were right behind it. But then she heard his voice saying everything was all right, that he had her. Felt the touch of his lips on her forehead, the slightly calloused sensation of his fingers on her cheeks.

 

And she let go and fell right back to sleep. And slept till morning.

 

##

 

Shaw woke and saw Seven sitting in the easy chair by the window with her legs pulled up, staring out at the water. "Good morning."

 

She turned with a sweet smile. "There's coffee staying warm in the replicator. Your favorite blend."

 

He got up and walked to the glass door that led to the porch expecting to see water. But it was low tide and everything was rock and then mud. It was cloudy and the mountains he was sure were on the other side of the water weren't out. He used the bathroom and then retrieved his mug from the replicator. "You hungry?"

 

"I am." She was staring out again.

 

"Preference?"

 

"Surprise me." Then she turned and grinned. "I could choose. I just don't want to. I want to see what you get me."

 

He found himself grinning back like a fool. This woman... Turning back to the replicator he ordered scrambled eggs, hash browns, and bacon—and then added buttered rye toast with strawberry jam.

 

The replicator was not fast. But it had done a good job on both their clothes and the food and wine last night so he wasn't going to complain.

 

He heard her coming up behind him, then she put her mug down on the table under the replicator and hugged him tightly from behind. "Good morning to me," he said as he held on to her arms.

 

"Table?"

 

"Table."

 

She took his mug with her as she went to sit at the breakfast nook. "I want to explore the beach after breakfast. Walk out to that hook thing."

 

"It's called a sand spit. No idea about the spit part. Pretty sure there's no actual sand on the beach either. My cousin used to bitch about the barnacles on the rocks. Sliced him up the first time he was here when he thought he'd just run into the water barefoot. They arrived here at high tide so he thought it was a sand beach." He shook his head, imagining Joey running like a madman until the pain kicked in, which for him was probably a bit longer than for others. He was kind of a lunkhead.

 

She laughed softly. "The mud is so dark."

 

"And sticky. We do not want to try to walk in it."

 

"Good to know."

 

The replicator chimed and he pulled out the plates and carried them over to the table and sat next to her. "Your score for our breakfast?"

 

She looked it over as if she was a judge at a fancy food thing. "It's perfect." Then she bit into her bacon while he spread jam on his toast. "Do you understand what the test is supposed to do?"

 

He took a bite of toast and sighed happily. He loved rye so much more for toast than white or wheat. "The way they tried to sell it to me was it would hone in on a couple of things that haunt you—bad decisions or choices—and help you do them over until you make it come out the way you want." He met her eyes. "Which is so not life. What good is that? I mean I guess if it took you a hundred tries to get to a good solution, you'd know you didn't just miss the obvious better choice. Only I think it limits the number of tries, right?"

 

"It's supposed to. For me..." She busied herself with the jam, as her breath came out ragged.

 

"This can wait until we're done eating."

 

"I'm not going to go into the decisions themselves right now. But I want to make sure we're on the same page as to what this thing is supposed to be and what I got. So when I am ready to talk about the regrets, we don't have to spend time on background."

 

"Reasonable."

 

"My scenarios never stopped. And...I never got the happy ending. It just kept replaying the scenario as if nothing I did differently would matter. Even things I knew would work, the test wouldn't let me have. It's supposed to determine when you've reached a resolution that leaves you at peace by physiological signs: hormones and neurotransmitters, pulse and respiration." She looked at him as she sipped her coffee. "For me, it was only when I was almost almost torn apart and had disassociated that it went on to the next scenario. And not two or three, as they said. So many more. My life is apparently a series of regrets and bad choices."

 

He reached over and laid his hand on hers. "I'm so sorry."

 

She nodded.

 

"They couldn't tell you were having a hard time?"

 

"So they said. I found out later the tech running it lost a friend during Frontier Day. It's possible..." She shrugged. "I don't know if I was ignored or if the signs were masked. And once they realized, they tried to get me unhooked safely but it wasn't that simple. I was whimpering, Liam. When they got me free. Crying too. And that I haven't stopped—these goddamned tears..." She wiped her eyes.

 

"So it's just decisions you made? Anything you did as a drone didn't count?"

 

"Even I know I lacked agency. But there was one, when I was a child."

 

"Oh, shit. When you were assimilated?"

 

"Yeah. Reliving that moment, over and over, trying to find new places to hide and hoping they wouldn't find me. That was the last one, the one they pulled me out from. I had no control over that. Why would I have to see that?"

 

"I don't know. But maybe you do think you hold some responsibility. I don't think you do, for the record. But maybe something happened before you were assimilated that made you think that."

 

"I was tired of the Borg and being alone and being on that tiny ship. I wanted to have a break. There were so many worlds to visit, worlds with sunshine and animals and other kids. But my parents wouldn't go because they were afraid they'd never find another Borg ship to study the way they could the ones they'd found where we were. I told them I wanted to go home to the Alpha Quadrant. To send me home. Of course they couldn't, but my last wish was to never see them again. And then..."

 

"You never did?"

 

"Not as humans." She went back to eating. "Not as my parents."

 

"You didn't cause anything, Seven. You were just a kid. They were supposed to keep you safe. That's the number one job of parents. And they failed."

 

"They didn't even try, Liam. They were so reckless and I—" She stopped, staring past him, out the window and then met his eyes. "Reckless. I fucking got it from them."

 

"No."

 

"Yes. It's in my genes. I'm going to make shitty decisions just like they did."

 

"No." He put as much of his belief in her as he could into his voice. "They were putting you at risk because they were selfish. They wanted you with them while they went and did the idiotically dangerous thing. But when you're reckless, Seven, it's to help people. Or in the case of Bjayzl to avenge someone. But you're not like them. You'd never put innocents in harm's way and not care. You always care."

 

"But you said I was reckless."

 

"And you are. But there are varying degrees of that. And varying motivations for being that way. I may believe you rushed in where angels feared to tread some of the time, but you did it with your eyes open. And usually a back-up plan I never expected you to have. So...no. You're not like them." He took her hand. "And for the record, it takes cold fucking hearts to leave a child in a shuttle while they beamed to the Borg. Your heart isn't cold. It's so fucking warm. So soft—or you wouldn't be here needing to talk this out. You'd be fine with your choices."

 

She was listening to him, and she wasn't crying. She was taking it in, nodding. "I didn't cause that. They wouldn't still be alive if I had never been born." She took a ragged breath. "That was my last solution. Never having been born. But like all my other solutions, the test wouldn't let me use it. That's where I was emotionally when they yanked me out." She swallowed hard. "We're on the same page about the test, right? We can move on to other things?"

 

"We can." He went back to eating as if his heart wasn't breaking for her. As if he didn't want to walk into wherever this fucking stupid test was being administered and take it apart in a way that they'd never be able to put the system back together. "But one more thing. You need to talk to Raffi. You need to find out if she was part of this."

 

"I know." She took a long swallow of coffee. "The breakfast really is good."

 

"It's the company," he said, trying to muster up good humor for her and failing as he thought of her forced back to being that poor little kid who was assimilated worlds away from Earth. Trying to find a solution for a problem she had never caused.

 

"It's all right, Liam." She was looking at his left hand.

 

It was trembling violently. "No, it's fucking not. I am so mad at them."

 

"I know. Me too."

 

 

2.

 

Seven listened to the seagulls crying overhead as she walked with Liam on the beach to the spit. She'd expected the rocks to be slippery but they weren't. When they finally made it out to the spit, they discovered he'd been right: there was very little actual sand. "This is covered up when the tide is high, right?"

 

"I think so." He sat down and pointed to the other side of the canal. "Hey, the mountains are finally out."

 

Cloud cover had been hiding them, but now they were out and they were gorgeous. Snow capped some of them.

 

She continued studying the area around the spit. "There aren't any flags." She could see he wasn't following and sat down next to him. "If the spit gets covered up, is it deep enough not to ground a boat?"

 

"I don't know."

 

"I wonder how many visitors ran aground before there were nav apps."

 

"Probably a lot. But not the locals." He turned to scan the beach they'd just traversed. "There's smoke from one of the houses. Maybe a local."

 

"It would be strange to live surrounded by empty houses for part of the year, then be overrun by tourists for the rest."

 

"And summer people. That's what Laura calls them. A lot of them have owned the houses for decades but only use them for a short part of the year."

 

"Summer people." She smiled at the name. "If I lived here and my neighbors were summer people but friends, then summer wouldn't start until they came back."

 

He was looking at her like she'd grown two heads.

 

"What? I can get thoughtful some of the time."

 

"No—I know. I just... I love that idea. That a season could be marked by arrivals of special people, not just the warmer weather and longer days."

 

"People are important."

 

"Heartily agree."

 

She realized he hadn't touched her during the walk and thought it might be that he didn't want to force it—especially when she hadn't said she loved him back.

 

She knew she was vulnerable and he was helping her, generous beyond belief in how much he was willing to do. She needed to wait until she was in the frame of mind that could say that and have it mean something good for them—for the future.

 

But for now, she reached over and took his hand, squeezing gently. "When I was stuck in the test, I spent a lot of time on you."

 

He looked over at her.

 

"Not just your death. But how I handled Picard and Riker when they first showed up. And how I handled the name thing. The anger I showed—the unwillingness to hear your side."

 

"I called you a name you didn't want to be called. My side sucked."

 

"But you made interesting points. After reliving the assimilation—the sheer terror I felt at that moment—why do I want to be called Seven of Nine? It's not something I fully understand."

 

"I have a thought." He took a deep breath. "You said you didn't have to examine any of your memories of being Borg. Because you know you lacked agency. But..." He laughed, a short puff of air. "I can't believe I'm going to suggest this, but I keep hearing that the test attempts to help you be at peace with what happened. Maybe, when you were a Borg, you were at peace. I'm not saying it was the best version of you, but maybe it was the most content."

 

"I never had to wonder if I fit in, if I was welcome. What my contribution was. I barely had to make choices. It was an easy way to live. And the Queen..."

 

He watched her, his expression supportive.

 

"She must have felt how angry I was at my parents. How lonely I was. How lost. She was with me in my mind while I was in the maturation chamber more than she wasn't. Her voice..." She realized she was crying but didn't try to wipe the tears away. "Her voice was so sweet to me once I was part of the collective. I felt..."

 

"Safe."

 

"Yes."

 

"So that name is you holding on to that safety. Not the 'I was kidnapped, changed against my will, and turned into a mass murderer' aspect."

 

She elbowed him in the side, but not very hard. "Dick."

 

"Sorry, couldn't resist."

 

"You're not wrong, though. Safety." She leaned against him. "It's why I'm here with you. You make me feel safe. Even when you're pissing me off."

 

"Have I pissed you off yet?"

 

"No, but it's only the first full day. Give it time."

 

He laughed and put his arm around her and they sat for a long time, then she rose and held her hand out to help him up and they walked back to the cabin.

 

"I'm going to call Raffi."

 

"Good idea. I'm going to grab an extra blanket, stretch out on the lawn, and read. So you'll have all the privacy inside that you need."

 

She pulled him to her and kissed him gently. "For a dick, you're super thoughtful."

 

"I am a constant riddle." His grin was adorable. "But you'd get bored with anything else."

 

"That is probably true."

 

They went in together and then he grabbed the blanket, ordered more coffee, and went out with a mug and his padd. She watched him as he carefully spread the blanket out, then got up and moved it when he didn't like the spot. She'd seen him do the same thing with an engineering panel—not content with "it'll do" when it could be better.

 

She forced herself to stop watching him and took her padd out, inputting the code for Raffi, who answered immediately. "Hang on. I'm going to the ready room."

 

"Observation."

 

"Stupid name for a ready room."

 

"Agreed but that's how it's labeled on the ship schematics so..."

 

"Whatever. Esmar, you have the conn."

 

Seven could tell Raffi was walking by the way the screen was moving. Heard the hiss of the doors closing. "Where's Mura?"

 

"His wife was at a conference at Starbase Seven and she brought their son. He wanted to join them. Easy yes."

 

Seven smiled, but that smile faded as she began to run scenarios in her head for all the times they'd need Mura in that seat. But it was his family. He needed to see them. But what if...? "Aarggh." She looked for something to break then remembered she was in someone else's house. "God damn that test."

 

And as she said it, she saw something change in Raffi's expression. "There. What is that look? Every time I mention the test now, you get it."

 

She shrugged, not answering. A tell if you knew her. If Raffi really was innocent of something, she just said so.

 

"Before you joined Worf, what were you working on?"

 

"Nope. That's classified."

 

"How convenient." She stared at her. "You're good with code, Raff."

 

"You actually think I had something to do with what happened to you?"

 

"Did you?" When Raffi's lips tightened. "God damn it, Raff. Did you work on it?"

 

"Yes. I consulted on some parts. But it was the security parts—information partitioning, firewalls, that kind of thing—not the actual test part. I just tried to hack the system until they fixed every way in I found." She touched the screen. "I didn't do this to you. Is that why you chose him to trust instead of me?"

 

"No. But I could tell you were keeping that from me. And you wanted me to take the test. So did Ohk."

 

"She has no baseline to determine fitness for duty."

 

"She has the time I was first officer. Wait, did you nudge her?" By nudge, she meant manipulated, but that was a word guaranteed to start a fight and maybe earn a hang up.

 

Raffi didn't look away. "You haven't been all right since Shaw died. I thought when we stuck him in cryo just in case Ohk could revive him and it worked, that you'd be okay, but you're not. So sue me for wanting you to be okay. I had no idea what the test would be like for you. I was fine when I took it. More than fine—it really helped me. Ohk took it too."

 

"So you were just going to fix me because you didn't like how I was." She began to pace, hoping she was making Raffi dizzy. "The only thing wrong with me was that I wasn't doing what you wanted. Acting how you wanted. Loving you how you wanted." She stopped and stared out the window at Liam. "You want me to trust you, but you can't stop pushing."

 

"Okay, I get why you don't want to trust me, but what about the others who were there yesterday? They were less trustworthy than your dick of a former captain?"

 

"I looked at their faces—including Picard's—and I saw guilt. I saw all the times they weren't there."

 

"Shaw wasn't there with us. He was a Hail Mary play by Janeway."

 

"Yeah, well, she's an excellent quarterback. It was the right play."

 

"Does he know you called me?"

 

"He told me to call you. I'm not sure I would have just yet."

 

Raffi stared at her, hurt clear in her face. "Don't you see what you're doing? You can't make a decision so you go back to him, the man who never gave an order you didn't want to buck. And you've become the perfect little subordinate. I'm sure there's comfort in that given how the test hurt you. I'm sure it's nice to just say "yes, sir," and "no, sir." But it's not the answer."

 

"That's not why I left with him, Raffi."

 

"What? Because you love him? Well, poor him because you used to love me too."

 

"I trust him. I feel safe with him." And the opposite hung in between them: that she hadn't trusted Raffi. That she didn't make her feel safe.

 

"Well, that's great, hon'. You two enjoy yourselves. Did you need something work related or can I go?"

 

"You can go."

 

"Bye." The connection went dead.

 

Seven let out a huge sigh, then walked out to where Liam was lying on his stomach.

 

He looked up at her and said, "Uh oh."

 

"Yeah."

 

He patted the blanket and said, "Want to talk about it?"

 

"No." She lay down next to him though and could not bite back a huge yawn.

 

"Take a nap." He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I'll be right here."

 

She rolled to her stomach, used her folded arms as a headrest, and quickly fell asleep.

 

##

 

Shaw was nudging Seven out of a nightmare when his padd chirped with B'Elanna's signature ring.

 

Fuck.

 

Where in hell are you?

 

Somewhere nice

 

Get back here

 

Nope

 

Do you like being a commodore?

 

Jury's still out

 

At least tell me she's all right

 

She's all right, Admiral Janeway. Nice try commandeering my boss's padd

 

What gave me away?

 

Rule number 1: never reveal your opponent's tells. Shaw out

 

He'd known it wasn't B'Elanna from the first sentence—she'd have told him to get back first: where he was would be immaterial.

 

He realized Seven was watching him, her expression concerned.

 

"Are you in trouble because of me?"

 

"I've been in trouble because of you for some time now." He reached out and tousled her hair. "Good nap?"

 

"Yeah." She rolled to her back and stared up. "Is approving leave an easy yes?"

 

He was not following the conversational turn so he waited for her to realize that.

 

She did, as quickly as she'd ever done when they'd sat next to each other. "Sorry, I left a part out. When I was talking to Raffi, she gave the conn to Esmar. She gave Mura leave to go visit his family who are nearby—or closer than Bajor anyway. But when I tried to figure out if I agreed with that decision, I just spiraled. Is granting leave an easy choice?"

 

"Not always."

 

"Is it now?"

 

"Run out your logic for me."

 

She shook her head.

 

"Why not?"

 

"Because it's stupid. It's a stupid decision and it is an easy yes and I can't get there."

 

"It's not an easy yes, not if you've been mired in your decisions. And can I point out you've been making easy yes decisions for two days now?"

 

She turned her head and met his eyes, a question in her expression.

 

"You spared your friends knowing how bad this really was. You chose to go with me. You—"

 

"Raffi thinks I chose to go with you because I never followed your orders and now I can because it's easier than having to make my own decisions."

 

"You followed my orders all the time, Hansen." He waited to see if he'd get her spirit up a little with the name and wasn't disappointed. "If you hadn't, you'd have been off my ship so fast it would have made your head spin."

 

"But I'm reckless."

 

"And I'm the opposite of that. And together we're the happy middle. It's why I fucking picked you, Borg baggage be damned." He leaned in. "How many times did I put you on report for your recklessness?"

 

"Zero?"

 

"That's right. I didn't even report you to Ro after you fucking betrayed me."

 

She rolled to her side and reached out to touch his face. "You didn't. Okay, go on with your list of easy yes choices I made." Her smile was so fucking gorgeous, and he wanted to kiss her so badly, but she needed to be reminded she was okay more than she needed a make-out session with him.

 

"Last night, you made a fire without worrying about the chimney catching on fire, or rats living in the wood stove."

 

"I may just be stupid." But she was laughing and he grinned.

 

"We both know you're not that. Also, you chose an excellent dinner and wine combination without asking me—who is a little bitch about wine—which one to get."

 

"Well, you like white Bordeaux."

 

"But I'm a Malbec man."

 

"Which would not go with seafood. Eww." Then she laughed. "Okay, I'm starting to see your point."

 

He shifted so he was closer to her, on his side too. "How much time did T'Veen take during the test?"

 

She looked away. "A lot."

 

"How many times did Mura get killed when you tried to course-correct?"

 

"Quite a few of them. Or it was Esmar or LaForge." She touched his face. "Or you. It was you a lot of the time."

 

"Was it you some of the time too?"

 

"No." She frowned. "That's weird. And that's what I mean about the test not giving me the right responses. There were times I got between Vadic and T'Veen, but the disruptor passed through me like I was a ghost." She went very still as he got a chill.

 

"Fuck. You were a ghost. It was running off your pain, but the interface with your Borg bits must have derailed the ability to place you in the scenario correctly. It could never resolve because you weren't there the way it expected, but it was still able to feed off your regrets. It only stopped when you were disassociating."

 

"When my system 'froze.'"

 

"Jesus Christ." He felt himself starting to tremble at the endless loop she might have been in.

 

She moved into his arms, and he wrapped her up in a tighter embrace than he would normally use. But she was so strong and she was holding on to him just as firmly.

 

He whispered in her ear, "Leaving aside how many times you may have watched Matthew die in the test, leave isn't an easy yes. I mean sure when you're in space dock it's not a stumper, but normally, you have to assess coverage and expected needs from what you know of upcoming missions. How much the person has going on—are they in the middle of cross training a newbie who will be left with nothing to do and if so, how do you make sure that person is usefully occupied during the time. Remember last year at the winter holidays. Jesus, that was a pain."

 

"I forgot about that. It really was." She went very still so he didn't break the silence, just lost himself in how good it felt to lie like this with her. "Going back to the ghost. There's nothing wrong with my decisions if the system wouldn't let me win."

 

"Exactly. Or there may be, but that's not the way to find out." He felt her easing away and let go. "So you've mentioned your assimilation, T'Veen, my death. What else did it focus on?" He was sure he knew: Icheb.

 

And when she met his eyes and shook her head, he knew he was right. "I don't want to think about it anymore. Can we go out? There's a tavern in town. They often have the best burgers."

 

"Yes, they do." He got up and held out his hand to her.

 

She took it and didn't let go as she led him up the stairs to the front door, as she went to the replicator and ordered antitox and a few extra knives. "I'm not sure how the locals feel about ex Borgs."

 

"Or dipshits from Chicago."

 

Her laugh was the most untroubled he'd heard from her since he rescued her. "So much worse than a Borg."

 

##

 

Seven needn't have worried about the reception they'd get. The bar wasn't very full on a week night and those in there seemed to be of the "I'm minding my own business; you do the same" school.

 

"Take a seat," the woman tending bar said. "I'll be right over." Her smile was open and sweet and very much an overture.

 

Seven smiled back but in a way that said she was with someone.

 

Liam seemed oblivious, was too busy checking out the photos on the wall that seemed to chart the history of the place.

 

As he strolled down memory lane, she quickly assessed the room and chose a bar table in the back corner; she took the seat facing the door and he laughed. "What?"

 

"You can take the woman out of the Rangers... Let me guess, you can just slip off your stool if trouble comes, whereas a booth requires some time-eating sliding and standing?"

 

"Shut up."

 

"When that's your only retort, I know I'm right."

 

"Fuck you, Shaw." She knew her smile was goofily big.

 

"Yeah, right back at you."

 

The bartender walked over, handing them menus and getting their drink orders. Then she leaned in to Seven and said, "I'd kill to have you look at me the way he looks at you." Then she grinned and said, "I'll get your drinks."

 

Liam wasn't looking at the menu; he was studying her, but his expression was weird.

 

"You okay?"

 

"Is she your type?"

 

"She's pretty, seems fun, and wants me. Yeah, there was a time that would have been my type." She expected him to laugh but he picked up his menu and exhaled raggedly. "Liam, what's going on?"

 

"You know I'd help you even without the romantic shit, right?"

 

"Romantic shit? Way to strip any actual romance out of this."

 

He still didn't smile. "I'm not kidding. I'd help you no matter what. So if you think you need to string me along so I won't leave you, you don't."

 

"String you along?"

 

He put down the menu and met her eyes and his were some weird mixture of angry and hurt. "It didn't escape my attention that the waitress didn't comment on how hot the way you look at me is. You haven't said you love me. You don't want to sleep with me. And..." He shook his head.

 

"And what?" She kept her voice as gentle as she could.

 

"And you didn't come see me. Not fucking once. After I was discharged from sickbay, I mean. Obviously you came to see me there. But what the fuck? Were you ever going to? Because I think the answer to that is a big fat no. And it wasn't you who called me into this, it was your pal Janeway." He looked away and she realized he was tearing up. "I just don't want to come out at the end of this with a whole lot of expectations that are going to get trampled. So just tell me you need my help as your former captain, and I'll adjust those expectations."

 

"Reluctantly, I hope?"

 

"Fuck you, Hansen." And for the first time she heard the name the way he used to say it: full of hurt and anger and resentment. Only this time she understood why he might feel that way.

 

She slid off her stool and walked around to him, moved his stool to face her and saw him smile the way he always did when she used her Borg strength, and leaned into him while putting her hands on the back of his stool, effectively trapping him. "You are my captain. The captain I needed. I can't change that. And I wanted to come see you. But you never called after you were discharged, and I'd betrayed you and gotten you killed. It was easier to stay away, especially as I was trying to reset my relationship with Raffi from one of exes who barely spoke to an effective command team."

 

He wasn't looking away, seemed mesmerized by how close she was.

 

"Also, I'm going to be on the ship and you'll be here. That alone might make you not want anything with me."

 

"I'd want you even if I could only see you in person once a decade, Seven. As long as we could talk. Don't get me wrong—I'm not a monk. I love sex and I want to have some with you so fucking badly. But that's not why I'd jump after this long being on my own." He brushed back her hair. "It's because I love being with you. I love how quick your mind works. I love how kind you are but how that doesn't stop you from turning my shit right back around on me. But that's a lot to put on you if maybe you don't feel that."

 

She pulled his arms around her, would have straddled him if she wasn't afraid the stool would tip over. "I love you, Liam Shaw."

 

"You don't have to—"

 

She put her hand over his mouth. "I'm talking."

 

"Sorry," he said as soon as she let go.

 

"I love you, and now that I know I was a ghost in that goddamned test—that no matter what I did it was not going to ever let me win because I didn't exist as a participant, just a generator of source material—I feel differently about waiting."

 

"You don't have to say that, Hansen. God fucking damn it, this feels like a pity fu—"

 

She shut him up by kissing him, and this wasn't like the kisses before, which had been about comfort and support and affection. She made this the best kiss she could give him and his moan told her she was hitting the mark.

 

When they finally pulled away from each other, she put her hands on either side of his face and said, "Are you going to continue being stupid about this?"

 

"No, ma'am." He started to laugh. "But can I have another of those?"

 

She nodded and he started to pull her in, but then she heard a low cough.

 

"Don't mind me, you two. Just tell me what you want to eat and I'll let you get on with that."

 

"Order for me," he told Seven with a grin.

 

"Two bacon cheeseburgers and sweet potato fries."

 

"You got it. Oh and..." The bartender leaned in. "If you ever need a third...?"

 

"Duly noted." She grinned at the woman in the way that meant she loved what was being offered but it would be a cold day in hell before she took it.

 

"Had to try." She looked at Liam. "You're a lucky man. She's so hot." With a grin, she walked back to the kitchen.

 

"So see. She does like the way I look at you."

 

"Well, she didn't technically say that. She could have just liked how you kissed me. Which could transfer to her."

 

"Shut up and kiss me."

 

He pulled her back in, murmuring, "Good food order, by the way. See you can make decisions," before capturing her in a very long, very sensual kiss.

 

She had to stop herself from grinding against him. This wasn't the swankiest place, but it also didn't seem to be the kind where you wanted to stand out for being the couple who couldn't keep their hands off each other. "I'm going to go back to my stool now."

 

"Okay." His smile was lovely and seemed at peace.

 

"You believe me, right? Have I ever seemed the kind to play you?"

 

"No, you're usually forthright."

 

"Remember that the next time you worry."

 

"In my defense, I wasn't wrong about why I was worried."

 

She kissed his cheek. "Just like my poor decisions, those things are in the past. I do love you, I do want to fuck you, I wanted to come visit you after you were discharged but was afraid you'd reject me, and that bartender would give a lot to see me look at her the way I'm looking at you right now."

 

His grin was the crooked one she loved, the one that he often held back but now couldn't seem to. "You can say some pretty nifty things when you feel like it."

 

"Remember that, Commodore Dickhead." She went back to her stool and sipped her bourbon, and when he slid his hand toward her on the table, she took it. "When we get back to the cabin, I don't want to talk about the memories. I just want to be close to you. But can we take a ride before we go home, let dinner settle, skim the water at night?"

 

"We can do anything you want to do." His look was so indulgent she felt warm and safe and protected. By the man, not just her former captain.

 

When the burgers arrived, they were scrumptious. They decided to forgo dessert so they weren't too full for later. She followed him to their flitter, holding his hand when he reached out for it, yawning as they settled into their seats.

 

His grin was tenderly playful as he said, "If you're tired, sleep. I'll find us places to explore while you nap. It's very possible you might not get much sleep later."

 

With a laugh, she pulled him to her, kissed him soundly, hand running down his front to his groin where there was no doubt that he wanted her.

 

"Call me old fashioned, Sev, but I don't want our first time to be in a rented flitter." He laughed at her expression. "I mean if it were here or nowhere, yes. But it's not, so close your eyes and I'll wake you when I'm sick of flying around in the dark."

 

She closed her eyes and heard him giving the flitters instructions, then arguing with it over nocturnal no fly zones. She cuddled into him as he and the computer found a compromise he could live with and the flitter would actually do.

 

Moments later, she woke and was freezing. Everything was blurry and she felt like she was lying on metal.

 

"Seven, thank God." Kathryn's voice, worried. Very, very worried.

 

"She's stabilizing." Ohk's voice, and then her touch as she put drops into Seven's eyes. "We thought we'd lost you."

 

"Where's Liam?"

 

Ohk exchanged a look with Janeway, then Raffi came out of the shadows. "Baby, he's dead. He died months ago, during the Frontier Day attack. I was with you, remember?"

 

"No, we were at Hood Canal. We were just having dinner. Did our flitter crash?"

 

"No, you've been here since the test. I'm so sorry I urged you to take it." Raffi took her hand. "You got stuck. We just got you out."

 

Ohk put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry too."

 

She looked past them all because she heard Liam's voice. "Where is he?" At the helplessness in their expressions, she tried to get up and said, "Where is he, where is he, where is he, where is—"

 

"Seven!" Liam's voice. Panicked.

 

And the flitter's system saying, "Do you need medical or security assistance?"

 

She woke up fully, breathing so fast it hurt, touching his face to make sure he was really there.

 

"It's okay." Liam pulled her close. "It's just a dream, sweetheart. Just a dream."

 

"Is this real? Are you here?"

 

"I am."

 

"But if I'm stuck in my head, anything you say would be right. Or I could ask you for something I don't know and check with your family but if nothing is real then neither are they, and the system can tell me anything, and I wouldn't know if you're really here. They said you were dead."

 

"I was. But you put me in cryo, which was smart."

 

"How do I know I'm not saying that so I feel better about myself? So I don't have to live with the fact that I got you murdered along with my son and T'Veen. So I don't have to think that if I'd done a better job warning Agnes about the Queen, she might not have been assimilated. And Elnor wouldn't have been killed by my husband. How do I know this didn't all cascade from the fact I should never have been assimilated and if I'd been a smarter child, better able to hide or disable the drones..."

 

"Easy, Hansen. Also...what husband?"

 

"I hate that name."

 

"I know. Why would a Shaw you made up call you that? Or if he did, why would he also call you Seven?"

 

"Good point."

 

"Also what's this about a husband?"

 

"Alternate universe."

 

He seemed to be waiting for more but she didn't want to explore that. "Okay then."

 

"Pinch me."

 

He did and it hurt.

 

"Give me your padd." When he did, she ran though the formula for Moretti's paradigm. But she did it wrong on purpose.

 

"That's not right." He pointed to where she'd inserted the error.

 

"Dream Shaw probably wouldn't say that. But real you would say that even if you're trying to get into my pants. Real you is...this you. You're real." She tried to slow her breathing.

 

"I'm real. Seven, look at me."

 

"I'm broken, Liam. Why would I dream that?"

 

"On the bright side, you did not dream about one of your decisions."

 

That actually was comforting. This had been a true nightmare. That he'd died. The idea that the person she trusted would end up abandoning her was actually a pretty common occurrence in her life. This dream didn't come out of nowhere. "Don't leave me, Liam."

 

"Not going anywhere." He wrapped her up in a very tight, very comforting hug. "You're safe and you're with me. Okay?"

 

She nodded against his chest. "I'm sorry. I used to be brave—you liked me that way. I don't feel brave right now."

 

"You're the bravest person I know. And I like you no matter what." He tipped her chin up, seemed to be studying her, then kissed her very gently. "We can wait on the sex if you want to just ride around and clear your head or talk instead."

 

"Are you saying that because you think it's a bad idea to have sex with me? Because I'm not okay?"

 

"I didn't say that."

 

"But maybe you meant it." When he started to say something she shook her head and he stayed quiet but he sat back and pulled her against him, rubbing her neck as they flew over black water and empty docks and darkened homes obviously closed up for the season.

 

 

3.

 

Shaw watched Seven closely as she sat curled into him then something caught his eye out of the flitter window. "Computer, what beach is that?"

 

"Twanoh State Park."

 

"And is that beach friendly to bare feet?"

 

"Please restate question."

 

"Are there barnacles and big rocks or is that sand?"

 

"The beach at Twanoh is divided into sections. The dedicated swimming section is maintained with a mixture of pebbles and sand. Barnacles are discouraged."

 

"Who's at the park right now?" He knew he was grinning in a very naughty way.

 

"The park is closed for the evening."

 

"So no campers?" He looked over at her and his grin became even bigger.

 

"Affirmative."

 

"Do the rangers live offsite?"

 

"Affirmative."

 

"Water temperature?"

 

"Eighteen degrees."

 

"Line of sight from beach, one hundred and eighty degrees?"

 

"There are four houses within line of sight of the beach. Additionally any boat in that area would have line of sight."

 

"Are there any boats in the area?"

 

"Negative."

 

"Are the residents of those four houses local?"

 

"Please restate the question."

 

"Are those houses occupied year round?"

 

"Negative."

 

"Go to low-wind function and land on the swimming beach."

 

"The park is closed."

 

He looked over at Seven and realized she was not understanding what he wanted to do. "You will never do this to a flitter unless you too are helping someone you love, got it?"

 

She nodded.

 

"Also, tell anyone this code and I will be run out of the Engineers' secret tree fort." He winked at her. "Engineering subroutines bypass, authorization four seven seven seven delta upsilon eta."

 

"Subroutines at your command."

 

"Ignore landing restriction for park."

 

"Justification."

 

"Because I said so." He laughed as the flitter started to circle and then landed, barely disturbing the pebbles. He urged her out and took in the area. He saw no indication that any houses were occupied with late renters like them. There were lights across the Canal but they'd need a telescope to hone in on them.

 

It was safe. It had been warm today so it wasn't crazy to do this. He began to take off his clothes.

 

"Uh, this isn't much better than a rented flitter."

 

"Just wait. And take those clothes off." Then he stopped. "Wait, do you know how to swim?"

 

She nodded. "Kathryn insisted I learn on the holodeck."

 

"I'm loving the admiral more and more." He took her hand once they were both naked and they stepped into the water and then stopped. "Do you trust me?"

 

"I do."

 

"It's not that cold."

 

"I'd probably argue that point."

 

He laughed. "Yeah but you'd argue any point if in the right mood."

 

"True."

 

"You want to walk in or run in?" Then he turned and scooped her up. "Or shall I carry you?"

 

"God, no. I want some control over this idiotic adventure." But she took his hand again once he put her down. "Walk."

 

"Okay then." And they both walked right into the water even though it was pretty fucking cold.

 

Until they got used to it anyway and then it felt lovely. Then it felt refreshing and salty enough to keep them floating with ease.

 

She was smiling broadly and he pulled her close and said, "I thought this might shock the system. In a good way."

 

She reached down. "I think this might too."

 

He closed his eyes as she worked him, until he couldn't stand it and floated back to where he could sit in the water, where she could straddle him and...fucking hell this felt good.

 

He lay back, the water all around him, and watched her face, illuminated by the low lights set around the beach, as she moved just right, as he could feel her going, crying out, and he followed right after her, which was a good thing because he was getting really fucking cold.

 

She was laughing as she pushed him up even though he wasn't ready to get up.

 

She grabbed her clothes and began putting them on and he followed suit. Then they got into the flitter and he ordered it to turn the heat up, as she snuggled into him and said, "I would never, in a hundred million years, have imagined fucking you in cold water on a deserted beach. This is real."

 

"This is so real." To the flitter he said, "Return to original position and resume flight once subroutines are under automatic control." He turned so she was half lying on top of him and kissed her, lifting her shirt up and getting to know her body. He loved how open she was, how nothing seemed off limits to him.

 

"Can we come back to swim?"

 

"We can do this at the cabin too. Swim, I mean. There are some little rocks where the lawn changes to beach that you can use to get in and out. But fucking on a beach where you might float over barnacles sounds too hazardous."

 

"And we don't have a regenerator."

 

"There's one in the bathroom. It's on a charger in the back of the linen closet."

 

"Did you check?"

 

"Of course. Safety first. I know where the fire extinguishers are too."

 

"Of course you do." She nipped him then went still beside him, her hand in his. "I just want to stay here, Liam."

 

"Here in this flitter?"

 

"No, here with you, in the cabin. Do you think they'd sell it to us?"

 

"What would we do?"

 

"We'd consult. Remotely. No need to leave."

 

He kissed her on the forehead. "It's a nice dream. But you belong on that ship."

 

She met his eyes and smiled gently. "Yeah. I think I really do."

 

And he loved the way she said it, the certainty in herself that had been missing was finally peeking out.

 

"But not yet, okay?" She laughed. "There are so many other places and ways I want to be with you."

 

He loved that. "You tell me when you're ready to go back. I'm on no timetable but yours."

 

"You're mine."

 

"I am definitely yours."

 

She was wearing a very self-satisfied look. "And I'm yours."

 

##

 

Seven was reclining against Liam, who was leaning against the couch cushions, enjoying the fire she'd built, a spare blanket wrapped around them as she sipped a local red and he combed the tangles out of her salty hair. Every now and then she'd hold the glass for him and he'd drink and then switch to rubbing her neck or scratching lightly on her back, causing her to shiver at the amazing feeling.

 

The part she most appreciated was that he didn't seem to be trying to get them anywhere. He was just touching her because she liked it. And he seemed to also.

 

"Your fingers should be insured, Liam."

 

He laughed softly. "This means as much to me as the sex. Do you know why?"

 

She turned so she could see his face. "Walls are down?"

 

He nodded. "And while I can see you taking pleasure however and whenever and with whomever you feel like, I can't see you letting them take care of you. Or even letting them know there's a way they could."

 

She nodded.

 

"So this is special. Not that I don't like the more sexual parts or that I think one time in the water is enough for tonight. I'm just enjoying this."

 

"Also the water leeched warmth from us and was a lame ass idea." She laughed at his expression. "A passionate, of the moment, and highly enjoyable lame ass idea. But still one."

 

"For a quick dip it would have been okay. But yeah, lying in it was a lame ass move." He pulled her in for a very tender kiss. "On the other hand, your mood before and after are markedly different so who's to say it was lame, huh?"

 

She put the glass down and turned, pulling him to her, kissing him for a long time, loving that they had all the time they wanted to explore and touch and cement this amazing closeness.

 

When she eased away, he went back to her hair. Then he started to braid it, laughing as he asked, "Do you remember Ka'ala? You wore your hair braided and up? And that dress. Or more accurately ribbons of fabric held up by I think glue and force of will."

 

She laughed. "I loved that dress." Even if she'd had to wear a cloak over it before they got down to the planet and the dinner where that kind of garb was the norm. Or a plain black robe. People were allowed to choose and it had not seemed determined by gender who showed up in the rather risqué outfits and who looked like a Vulcan in mourning.

 

Liam had opted for the robe.

 

"You were surprised I chose that dress rather than the staid thing you were in, weren't you?"

 

"I was. I was glad you had it covered on the walk down to the transporter room."

 

"Because you hated it?"

 

"Hate? Uh, no. Because anyone who saw you would have fallen in lust with their first officer and a few crushes are fine, but that many?"

 

She let out the laugh that was more cackling goose than human, and it made him grin like it always did.

 

"That was the first time I realized you'd never ogled me. Not even when parts of me that usually did not see the light of day were in evidence because of that dress."

 

"I was ogling. I just did it stealthily. I'd have never wanted you to feel unsafe around me—even if you are stronger and could kick my ass if I tried anything." He chuckled. "They sat us next to each other and every time you moved, I'd have to force myself not to glance over. And then that dance."

 

"You're a terrible dancer."

 

"No, I'm not."

 

"Then why were you holding me in the a-frame way guys usually reserve for hugging each other?"

 

"I was aroused as fuck. I wasn't going to pull you close and be all, 'Don't mind the rock hard erection you caused, Hansen.' So, yeah, I went for the a-frame maneuver. I knew the robe would billow toward you so you wouldn't notice how hard I was."

 

She started to laugh. "So you can dance?" She hadn't seen him do it ever on the ship. "Hold on." She handed him the wine and hurried to the replicator, putting in the the code for her personal favorite outfits where she had saved that dress and choosing the option for fast construction over durability. The replicator was taking it's sweet time replicating, so she grabbed some firewood she'd laid in to avoid having to go outside for it and stoked both the stove and the fireplace.

 

"You are damned handy at that. If I ever go camping, you're my girl."

 

"I'm not already your girl?"

 

"Oh you are, but say if we were at a dinner party and someone seated us apart, I wouldn't make a fuss. But they send us out to camp separately, and I'm putting my foot down."

 

She laughed, then the replicator pinged and she pulled the dress out and slipped it over her head, moving the ribbons of fabric into the right spots.

 

He was watching her with an amazingly helpless expression.

 

She held out her hand. "Come dance with me. Prove you're not hopeless at it."

 

"I'm naked."

 

"Put your bathrobe on. It's close enough to that robe you chose."

 

He got up, went into the bathroom and came out with his robe on backwards, which she had to admit more closely approximated the robe he'd been wearing that night. "I can't believe you think I can't dance." He grabbed his padd, chose some music, and an old standard started playing. "My dear, may I have this dance?"

 

"You may."

 

The way he was holding her, the way he let his fingers push into the exposed skin on her back, was completely different than the first time. He pressed against her and she could feel how much he wanted her.

 

"Yeah, this would have been interesting to the me of back then. It might have changed everything."

 

"How so?"

 

"Well..." She began to subtly move against him and he moaned. Then she looked up and met his eyes, trying to channel the her of those first few months with him. She let her mouth open, tried to make her eyes warm and wanting.

 

"Fuck me, Seven. If you'd looked at me like that, I'd have been gone."

 

She moved her hand from his shoulder to the nape of his neck, rubbing gently, saying, "Sir, it's okay. I know this doesn't mean anything. It's just the dress."

 

"That dress on its own would do nothing for me, Hansen." He smiled gently at her, as if wanting to make sure she knew he was in the role-play when he used that name.

 

"So it's me?"

 

He nodded. Then he let go of her. "I'm your superior officer. I can't—"

 

She pulled him back gently, her grip relentless. "We don't want to cause an incident by leaving. Arousal is inconvenient but not the end of the world."

 

"My arousal, you mean?"

 

She eased his hand off her waist and put it down the deep V, a V that came down to just above her groin. Guiding him under the very brief underwear that came with the dress, she said, "Find out if it's just you."

 

They kept dancing as he did just that, and her legs nearly buckled at the feel of him pleasuring her, coupled with the idea of it happening then, this way, when she was lonely and unsure if she'd picked the right captain.

 

She threw back her head and he kissed her neck, his fingers relentless on her, and she came right there, trying not to make a sound as he kissed her to muffle it. Then he held her up and kept dancing as she caught her breath.

 

He pulled his fingers out, running them up the v to her chin. "You get very flushed when you come."

 

"I get very flushed when I come like that. I want you inside me."

 

He led her out to the darkened kitchen, hiked her up on the counter, and pushed pieces of dress out of his way. Then he pulled up his robe, and took her. She wrapped her legs and arms around him, told him to go fast, to go hard, and he did, kissing her almost viciously, telling her how beautiful she was, how much he liked working with her, how incredible her brain was, her snappy banter, her engineering ability.

 

"You're my fucking dream girl," he said as he came, pumping hard, then relaxing into her as she kept him upright with how tightly she was holding on to him.

 

"I still don't really know if you can dance, though."

 

He laughed loudly, his whole body shaking. "Fuck you, Seven. If that's the only kind of dancing I can do—which it isn't—it will keep you happy a good long time."

 

She laughed as they kissed, knowing he was right, knowing this was better than she'd ever imagined—and she had imagined it. He'd been her favorite fantasy. If only to get him to stop calling her Hansen.

 

"I love you, Liam. I think I may have loved you for a while now."

 

"I know. Me too. This is so fucking nice, being here with you, just us. So goddamn easy."

 

"I agree."

 

"I've really missed you, Seven."

 

"I've really missed you too."

 

##

 

Shaw woke to bright sunshine coming in the windows. Seven was on her side snuggled into him, her arm snaked over his belly. The fire had died down and it was cold enough that he pulled the other blanket over them and just watched her sleep.

 

His padd beeped. He grabbed it and saw there was a text from Janeway.

 

Are you two all right?

 

We're fine

 

Do you need anything?

 

You to leave us alone

 

Ha ha. I'm serious

 

No, we're good. She's better

 

You're not just saying that?

 

I'm really not

 

Carry on, then. Janeway out

 

He could imagine her rushing to hit the disconnect button, not willing to let him do it and bit back a laugh. But he also really loved how concerned she was for Seven.

 

He was considering whether he could get up to order some coffee without waking Seven, when his padd chirped again.

 

Okay, now she was getting annoying. But it was B'Elanna this time. He'd know it was her even if the padd didn't identify the sender because the preamble was the second sentence. Like she was so busy formulating the business part of her text that she forgot to say good morning.

 

Are you interested in process improvement? Oh and good morning.

 

Is that a trick question? Who isn't?

 

Just about everyone. After Frontier Day, with so many holes, we need a complete look at how Starfleet does things. It's an interdisciplinary project but I need to pony up an engineer at rank O6 or above, preferably with command experience.

 

Sounds like me

 

Yes, it does. So I can send your name in?

 

Why are you asking me first? Not really your style

 

Because the team will operate remotely other than for monthly meetings and presentations to Command. Each member of the team is going to be on one of the Fleet's primary ships. And I wasn't sure if you were up for that after five years on a ship.

 

Do I get to pick the ship?

 

Well, I do know the CINC really well. The Enterprise?

 

Hold on, okay? Just one sec He nudged Seven awake. "I'm being assigned to a special project. It's a work from a ship thing. Do you have a preference which ship I'm on?"

 

Her grin was luminous. "Do you have a preference?" She laughed. "And you fucking well better, if you ever want sex again."

 

"Okay, technically you did not say I should pick your ship. You might mean you want me out of your hair except for when we're having the sex you are now threatening to withhold."

 

She rolled her eyes.

 

"Out loud, Hansen."

 

"You. On my ship. As whatever that job is and as my lover who is not in my chain of command, right?"

 

"Right." God, he loved that. No need to break the rules. He hurried to type: Yes, the Enterprise

 

I'll see what I can do. Torres out.

 

Seven was pulling the blankets more tightly around her. "Since you woke me up, you can brave the cold and get the coffee."

 

"It wouldn't be cold if you'd get up and get that fire going."

 

"I was reading about this area last night after you fell asleep. I want to go there." She had the page open to a place called Hurricane Ridge. "No fire until we get back." Then she pulled him down for a kiss. "I'm not dreaming? You're going to be on the ship?"

 

"Well, I put my preference in. And it would seem the CINC is both in charge of and the main customer for this project so..." Did Janeway make the project just so they could be together? He would not put it past her to merge organizational needs with matchmaking for her protege. Especially since B'Elanna's comm had been right after hers.

 

Seven made a noise of happiness he wasn't sure he'd ever heard from her. Almost a girlish squeal.

 

He loved that. "So why this place?" He nudged the padd.

 

"It looks like pictures I've seen of Switzerland and it's not that far away by flitter." Her expression changed. "And I want to talk over something with you. But only after we're tired from hiking and staring at big, beautiful mountains."

 

"Should we take a picnic? I saw some premade ones on the replicator menu."

 

"Yes. And where is my coffee, Shaw?"

 

"I still outrank you, snookums." But he got up and had their mugs out before he got the replicator started on the picnic assortment.

 

Carrying them back, he handed hers over and then put his on the floor before he got another spare blanket out of the linen closet. Sitting next to her, he pulled it around them both, then sipped his coffee.

 

"I'm not a hundred percent sure this job would exist if Janeway didn't want me with you. She commed this morning." Wow that felt good. No secrets. "Wanted to know if we needed anything."

 

"Did you answer: yes, tandem assignments?" she asked with a laugh.

 

"No, I said we were fine. She asked about you too. I said you were better."

 

"I am, aren't I?"

 

He nodded.

 

"Somehow knowing I was part of the test when it came to the scenario building but unable to make any impact on it is really comforting. Even if the idea of an endless loop is terrifying."

 

"It really is."

 

"Did you have another job you were going to go after? We've been so busy talking about my trauma that I haven't even asked how you like being on Earth, being a commodore."

 

"I sure don't miss being captain. I miss being your captain though." He earned a very sweet kiss for that. "But no, there weren't any current postings that were calling my name. There might be though, down the road. If I leave you physically it won't mean I'm doing it emotionally."

 

"I know." She stared into the now dark fireplace. "When I was with Raffi, when she got back into Starfleet and got Elnor into the Academy, I was at loose ends just sitting around. I went back to rangering. I had a ship and a holoprogram to help run it. I used to do some of the consults from the ship too. Got it out of Earth orbit and just parked and worked. She took it as a rejection of her. As me wanting all the freedom of my old life back." She looked down. "I never told her that Starfleet had rejected me. So she couldn't figure out why I didn't apply after so many years on Voyager. I should have been honest with her."

 

"You can be honest with me."

 

"I do believe that. I was during our tour, except at the end." She exhaled loudly. "Fuck, let's talk about us now. I was so frustrated with you. The closer we got to the end of our tour, to Frontier Day, the more you seemed to call me Hansen instead of your safe default of Commander. And then the way you treated them—and me by extension—at that dinner..."

 

"I played your favorite song."

 

"And seated me next to you. Which was a 'fuck you' to all of us because I wasn't as significant as they were and yet you put me in the guest of honor spot. Me—your ex-Borg baggage." She sighed.

 

"I wanted to ask you out, once we weren't serving together. But it seemed like every day you were more pissed at me. So I got my feelings hurt and acted even more like an ass." He swallowed hard. "I should have just told you I was interested. It wouldn't have been any more uncomfortable than it was. And I would have called you Seven when I asked you if you'd go out with me once I was off the ship."

 

"I'd have said yes. After I got done giving you a piece of my mind, no doubt. But for sure yes." She leaned against him. "And then it all went to hell."

 

"That depends on your perspective. Think of all the people who could have lost their kids to the Borg. They didn't—and that was because of us. We were instrumental." He sipped his coffee, thinking about the ways they helped. "Big fucking heroes, Seven. Big fucking dead heroes in my case, but oh well."

 

"You will never be issued a phaser on my ship."

 

"Fuck you."

 

She just laughed. "I mean it. You stay back. No shooting for you."

 

"I would to keep you safe."

 

"I have an entire crew for that, Liam." She touched his hand. "I want you alive."

 

"Well, for what it's worth, I do too. I wasn't planning on picking up a phaser if I could help it."

 

"Good."

 

##

 

They were sitting in a meadow eating their picnic lunch, staring at snow-capped mountains so close they looked huge and so high they were periodically covered with wispy clouds. Deer grazed near them, unbothered by their presence and a creature that looked like a gopher but the padd said was a marmot periodically screamed at them from a rock at the top of the trail.

 

They'd hiked until Liam had finally told her he'd had enough. She didn't tell him she was surreptitiously scanning his vitals to make sure he was doing okay with the elevation. Fortunately, he was in great shape.

 

He set out a bowl of berries and they shared them in companionable silence. He seemed about to throw one to the marmot, so she said, "The information sheet says not to feed the animals."

 

"Has hell frozen over? You're actually reading me a rule?"

 

She cackled and saw the marmot dive for cover. "I scared it. Good. Maybe it will stop that annoying cry."

 

He closed up the empty container once she'd polished off the last berry and stashed it in the basket, then handed her a bag of cookies. "Choose which one I want."

 

She looked through the selection and handed him a peanut butter one. She chose a snickerdoodle.

 

"I want to talk about Icheb," she said, putting the bag of cookies between them.

 

"Okay."

 

"I want to sort of ramble on. Is that all right?"

 

"Of course. Do you want me to hold questions?"

 

"No. You can ask me anything." She looked down. "I wasn't entirely honest about his death when I told you the story."

 

"I leave shit out about Wolf all the time. I don't think it'll be a problem that you did, and maybe it will help me understand you better to know the truth."

 

"I think so." She took another bite of cookie. "Icheb was one of four children we rescued from the collective. I was a role model, Kathryn used to say. Sort of a mother, but an unlikely one at first. I was awkward at it. So..." She smiled. "I was nearly Vulcan at times. Unemotional."

 

"You? For real?"

 

"I know." She lifted an eyebrow. "We found the people of two of the children and the third chose to go with them. They wanted Icheb to come but he elected to stay."

 

"For you?"

 

"And the ship. He was brilliant at so many things. Science, engineering, and I could see him someday in command."

 

"So he took after you." He was smiling gently when she glanced at him in surprise.

 

"I guess so. He would have been very proud of me. He was slightly obsessed with Kirk. For me to be a captain of the Enterprise would have delighted him." She took another bite of cookie and chewed it thoughtfully. "We actually found his parents."

 

"Wow. Before or after the others kids left?"

 

"Before. I protested in every way I could because I didn't want to give him back. But once it was clear he wanted to return home, I adapted to the idea he would be gone." She turned so she could see his eyes. "The Borg ship we rescued him and the other children from had been corrupted with a virus of unknown origin. It turned out he was that virus. His parents had genetically engineered him to be deadly to the Borg and then put him in a ship that simulated tech the Borg would want so he would be assimilated."

 

She could see the horror in his eyes.

 

"And when they got him back—when we gave him back to them—they tried it again." She sighed. "They had a second ship even though Icheb had been assimilated and the first ship destroyed. Maybe there were more ships and more bioengineered kids? How many children of theirs were they going to serve up to the Borg?" She could feel the rage overcoming her—but also the feeling of regret she got whenever she thought of this. "We should have turned around and checked all their children. Taken them—rescued them. The pathogen only worked on the ship they were assimilated by, not the network for all the collective. It was an inefficient mode of attack. A waste of such bright minds."

 

He reached over and touched her hand. "You did what you could."

 

"Do you know how many times I said that as a ranger?" She finished the cookie and pushed the bag toward him.

 

He put the bag into the basket. "So which parents were worse? Yours or his?"

 

"Such a good question. I did over-identify with him on this. I actually think mine were worse. At least his were fighting for their society. Mine put me in danger because they loved science more than their own child."

 

"It's a hard call. And sort of irrelevant. Who sucks less? Who wants to win that prize?"

 

She nodded and moved so she was lying on her back with her head in his lap. He immediately began to stroke her hair and she felt herself relaxing under his touch.

 

"Once we left his parents behind, he became mine. In my heart I'd known he didn't belong with them. That his first, best destiny was on the ship. I wasn't demonstrative, but he knew I loved him. And I knew he loved me. But I never knew how much until my cortical node failed. A replacement had to come from a living drone. But that wasn't possible. I was dying, Liam. So he disabled his because he believed he could survive without it. He risked his life for mine."

 

His smile was gentle. "You have a part of him with you always."

 

She nodded. "His recovery from that was not without incident. When he was finally stabilized, I shed my first tears. My first tears after assimilation were happy ones. My last ones before were of terror."

 

She stopped and turned for a moment, burying her face in his abdomen, and he was quiet and stroked her arm. "I wanted to go home, Liam. I told my papa that. But we didn't have a home. That fucking ship was our home. I never played with anyone. I never saw my relatives. My sixth birthday was bookended by Borgs being beamed over for examination. I hate my parents, but I also love them and don't want to make them the bad guy. So I turn all that anger..."

 

"On yourself?"

 

She nodded. "It's such an odd feeling to have such compassion for the child I was and also resent her for being so passive."

 

"You were six."

 

"I didn't say it was logical. But it is true." She turned back so she was looking up at him. "You know I was involved with Chakotay, right?"

 

"Mister Janeway?"

 

She laughed. "He hates that. But yeah—he was hers, even though he'd finally given up and luckily for him, I had a crush on him. Our relationship at first was good. We lived on Earth and I was close to Icheb who was at the Academy. We felt like a family. Only the two of them were welcomed by Starfleet and I wasn't."

 

"That's bullshit. He was Maquis. The ex part was only a technicality because he ended up in the Delta Quadrant and had to join forces with Janeway."

 

"How do you know so much about him?"

 

"The Constance Ten know a lot about any ship or people who had lots of contact with the Borg. Voyager had the most, right?"

 

"Yes."

 

"And he was in some kind of mini collective if I remember right."

 

"Before my time. And I try not to think of him." But it was all coming back. His disappointment in her for letting Kathryn get to the stage of threatening to resign—for her. She'd finally told Kathryn not to, but something was irrevocably broken between her and Chakotay. And Icheb was so busy with Starfleet.

 

She'd been bitter and mad and joined the Rangers when she probably should have sought out one of the companies who would have loved to have a Borg on the payroll, a Borg mind as part of their strategic advantage. She hadn't needed to go to the back of beyond and frankly if she hadn't, Icheb might still be alive.

 

"You okay?" His voice was sweet, loving, caring. Everything she'd thought Zenmaster Chakotay would be and wasn't, this wounded man who proudly touted his asshole setting really was.

 

"No, but I haven't been for a long time. Once he was on a ship, Icheb was so good at checking in with me. He'd come out to help me—that was his idea of leave. He'd met someone. Right before he died. He told me about her the last time we spent time together. He was in love. He never told me her name though. I had to find her via Ranger means and tell her he hadn't deserted her. I couldn't have her thinking he did that. Because that wasn't who he was. Once he loved you, you were his and he was yours.

 

"So now we're up to the part you know. Bjayzl didn't just come out of nowhere and kidnap him. I met her first while she was pretending to be there to help. I fell in love with her not realizing she was playing me. She wanted my joys and my treasures—shared her own, all made up to fit the role she was playing. I couldn't see why she'd want to fool me—I was still so innocent back then. Still had a heart that was open and easy even though I'd been dealt a pretty rancid hand most of my life. I told her all about Icheb. My pride and joy. The one good thing I still had in my life."

 

"And she kidnapped him for parts." He sounded disgusted at the idea.

 

She nodded. "But...he wasn't dead when I found him. He was dying—nothing was going to stop that—but it would be long and painful. And he wanted me to end his suffering. So I pulled out my weapon, and I did. I killed my son."

 

She could feel the tears starting to fall, but she didn't wipe them off, and he didn't reach for her.

 

"I searched for her for three months. A lot of people died in that search. I left a trail of bodies for her to find later. But I never found her. And so I got enough sedatives to end my life and I went to a seedy motel where this would not be the first time they found a dead body in a room, and I took them all."

 

He closed his eyes but said nothing.

 

"They would have killed a human. But not a Borg. I woke up in a puddle of my own vomit. Seemed a fitting metaphor for my life. I spent the next ten years trying to find Bjayzl, helping where I could, and mostly just sleepwalking through my life. Until I found her and killed her and then walked into a storm of weapons fire, expecting yet again to die. Not one of those energy streams hit me. Not a fucking one.

 

"I joined Picard later in a rather convoluted manner that involved the Artifact and the Tal Shiar and the boy Raffi considers her son. And finally I felt like I belonged. Like I could start over. But no. He used my assistance twice, talked about Borg shit to me, and then promptly forgot to check that I was even on the Titan—Riker told me in private after we'd beaten Vadic that he'd had to tell Picard I was there. I betrayed you for a man who couldn't be bothered to keep track of me."

 

"I'm sorry."

 

"No, I'm sorry, Liam. I should have talked to you. One more regret in a life that's been nothing but." She frowned, got very quiet as she repeated that back to herself. "Hold on. The test administrators explained it as peeling something like an apple or an orange to find the good bits underneath once you get the peel off."

 

"I don't think peel is a bad part of an apple."

 

She cackled. "I said that to him too." She pulled him down to her and gave him a quick kiss. "But yeah, so one layer and you're good? What about those of us who aren't apples or oranges, but onions? Peel down and you just find more to peel. The only way you know when you've hit usable stuff is by the density and the water content." She stopped, suddenly hit by the enormity of what she'd just said. "Liam, it should have been an endless loop. I'm an onion."

 

"What if your Borg bits protected you?"

 

"And what happens if you're not Borg? Not made a ghost? And you're an onion—I can't be the only one, right?"

 

"Right."

 

She sat up, grabbed her padd and commed Kathryn, who answered immediately. "You have to stop using the test."

 

"Calm down, Seven. I've put a moratorium on the use until it can be studied. I take it you have ideas on why it went so wrong for you?"

 

She explained her onion versus easier peeling things theory and saw Kathryn's look of understanding change to one of pure relief. "There were so many people booked to take it when I put the project on pause. How many would have..." She shook her head. "I'd like to share what you've told me with the programmers. They're doing a post-mortem or whatever you call one that happens in the middle of the project."

 

"You can share."

 

Behind her the marmot screamed and she jumped.

 

"Good Lord, where are you?"

 

"Hurricane Ridge, Admiral," Liam said. "Do you want to see it?"

 

Seven held the padd up and put it into camera mode.

 

"Wow, those mountains. I may have to get up there. Looks nicer than Earth's biggest ditch."

 

Seven laughed.

 

"So Shaw, rumor is you want to be on my Seven's ship?"

 

"Source of rumor is B'Elanna, and she's right."

 

"I hate what a shrinking violet he is, Seven. Really should have picked a guy who isn't so afraid to speak his mind."

 

She chortled and Liam grinned.

 

"Fine. You're on her ship. Did you need anything else, Seven? I have a meeting coming up."

 

"No. I just wanted to stop the test from being used."

 

"And you're planning on coming back to Starfleet some day in the hopefully not too distant future?"

 

"I am."

 

"Excellent. Janeway out." And the connection dropped.

 

"You okay?" Liam asked softly.

 

"Being Borg saved me."

 

"Sure seems like."

 

"Life is so weird."

 

"Yes, it fucking well is. But sometimes it's a good weird." He pulled her to him and kissed her slowly and gently and just what she needed at the moment. "Thank you for sharing all that with me."

 

"Thank you for listening and not trying to convince me it wasn't that bad."

 

"Oh, fuck no. It was that bad or worse. From one survivor to another: nothing but respect."

 

 

Continue to Part 2