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.

From Every Thorn a Rose

by Djinn

 

Captain Liam Shaw: Personal Log

 

My quest to find the woman I originally interviewed for first officer in the officer who reported a few days ago seems doomed to failure. It's such a disappointment to see what I thought was intellectual brilliance and technical curiosity turn into...whatever it is I'm sitting next to. Her smile is creepily upbeat and she clearly wants to impress me.

 

But the thing is she did impress me. I'd decided on her.

 

Until the letter of recommendation from Picard came in from HR right after the interview with a note that said: "This was accidentally omitted from Commander Seven of Nine's packet." If I'd fucking seen it first, I'd have never interviewed her and I think HR knew that.

 

Well fuck them, and Picard and Seven of goddamn Nine.

 

I went with my second choice. I told Seven she'd been highly competitive but the other candidate brought more of what I needed, and made vague noises about her applying again for other positions so she wouldn't get butt hurt. And sent my choice in to HR.

 

Who of course sent the selection to Janeway. As head of Fleet Ops, she apparently lives to approve every selection for first officer and above. She wasted no time in calling, spent five whole minutes trying to sell her protege to me, but I held firm on the other selection.

 

So her voice changed and she said, "You will take Seven of Nine, Shaw, or I'll make your life a living hell." Her expression was the kind you don't argue with and keep your command.

 

Like my life hasn't already been that? A living fucking hell since Wolf 359?

 

She promised to find a good home for my selection.

 

I told her I'd take Annika Hansen. No way in fuck I was taking Seven of Nine.

 

She was about to argue but maybe she saw something in my face, something that said: my fucking line in the sand is right goddamned here.

 

Because all she said was: "I'm sure she'll adapt to whatever you want to call her."

 

Hansen's face though. When I told her my first choice had decided on another option, there'd been cautious happiness. When I told her we'd be calling her Hansen and if that was a dealbreaker to tell me now so I could go with my third choice...

 

It would have been kinder to just gut her with the knife I always carried in my boot. I hadn't been exactly spilling over with enthusiasm as I told her the job was hers, and then I clobbered her with the name thing. It almost, almost made me change my mind.

 

But then I replayed the letter from Picard, and added in her fucking mentor's meddling. And then there's having to deal with the way Hansen clams up around me like she's a complete personality free zone when she's not trying to out perky a cruise director.

 

Fuck her.

 

Biggest bait and switch ever. Oh, she'll probably be fine on the admin part and she seems to get people. But I wish I could find whoever coached her on the engineering parts of our interview because there was no way this woman had a hand in the marvel that was the Delta Flyer.

 

End log.

 

##

 

Seven sat in her new quarters on Titan, feeling alone and adrift even though she was finally safely assigned. It had taken forever to find a position Kathryn had thought appropriate for her.

 

The fact that Seven didn't like her new captain seemed immaterial to her former one. Kathryn had just laughed it off and said, "Give Shaw a chance, Seven."

 

Seven—a name she hadn't heard since she'd accepted the job.

 

She'd tried again when she'd reported, midway through the welcome meeting. Could he call her Seven of Nine at least when they were in private?

 

"You're going by Annika Hansen. Not the fucking Borg name." He had a hostility about him that had been totally lacking in the interview. He'd been interesting then, and seemed interested in her experience, her qualifications, how she'd viewed Starfleet as a Ranger. He also hadn't ogled her the way some people did. She'd left the interview happy. Liking him even. Excited for what could be.

 

And he'd called her Seven then. And again when he told her she didn't get the job. So what the fuck had changed between then and him selecting her when his preferred candidate took another position?

 

She didn't feel like she could ask him that. Not when she was trying to make a good impression. "Excuse me, sir, but why are you being such a gigantic dick?" probably wouldn't go over well.

 

Especially if she asked it on the bridge.

 

It had been a while since she and Raffi talked, but she punched in her code anyway. They'd agreed to end things as friends. Friends talked.

 

Or bitched incessantly about new captains, if she wasn't careful. She couldn't make this all about herself.

 

There was a short pause as the connection came to life and then an unfamiliar voice said, "Commander Musiker's line."

 

"Who's this?" Was this a new girlfriend?

 

Shit, how long had it taken her to find someone new?

 

"This is a private answering service."

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"Commander Musiker is on assignment and not taking comms right now. I can relay messages."

 

"So you can comm her?" There was a silence that Seven imagined was the prelude to a careful answer. Fuck that. "Give me her new code then. You must have one."

 

"I'll be happy to relay any message you like."

 

"I used to be able to leave voice messages."

 

"That functionality has been turned off."

 

"For me or everyone?"

 

"I'm sorry but did you want to leave a message or shall I disconnect?"

 

She felt like someone had punched her in the gut. "No message."

 

"Very well. Goodbye." The connection dropped and she was left staring at her padd.

 

"Shift begins in five minutes," her room system said.

 

Shit. It might be good she didn't get through to Raffi. She would have been so pissed if Seven had to leave the moment they were connected.

 

It wasn't like her to lose track of time this way—or even need alarms—but Shaw had her so off balance.

 

"Repeat. Shift begins in five minutes."

 

"Understood. Reset alarm." She was up and out, not looking forward to sitting next to him.

 

The alternative—another tour of some part of the ship with him barely looking at her and being stiff other than when he introduced her to a new department—was also less than fun.

 

Maybe he'd have reports to do and would disappear into his ready room that for reasons known only to the refit people was now called observation.

 

Observation of what? He could observe the bridge from the captain's chair. She hadn't asked him what the name meant or why it wasn't just called a ready room. Was too busy trying to cross her T's and dot her I's to ask impertinent questions.

 

She knew her mood was reflected in her face when she sat down next to him and he looked at her and muttered, "Yeah, Hansen, good morning to you too. Any reason you look like someone shot your puppy?"

 

She gave him an eye roll. She'd been holding back so much it felt good to let herself be natural—even if he wasn't looking at her. "I don't have a puppy."

 

"Have you ever?"

 

"No."

 

He nodded, still looking at his padd. Other than the quick glance when she sat down, he'd conducted this whole conversation without looking at her. "That explains a lot."

 

She sighed—a bit over dramatically if she was being honest.

 

"Is something wrong with the ship or crew, Hansen?"

 

"Not that I know of."

 

He put his padd on the seat next to him and turned to her. He'd been talking very softly as he generally did when they sat in this not-quite-private area, and Seven thought only T'Veen could probably hear them. "I'm not your goddamned buddy, Commander."

 

She sat up straighter, beyond pissed. "Understood, sir."

 

"But I'm going to be your bestest buddy ever, just this one time, because I want to know how lame the thing is that turned you into this...sad sack. When before you seemed bent on impressing me by being the most attentive and perky new first officer ever."

 

"Fuck you, sir." It was out before she could even begin to bite the response back. It was what a Ranger might say. Not what the Seven of Voyager would have said and definitely not what a Starfleet officer, newly commissioned as commander should say, especially not after skipping all the lower ranks—except commander obviously. Starfleet had treated Picard's field commission and assignment of her to captain of the Stargazer as having never happened as soon as he beamed off. Rios's first officer had relieved her—and he'd had a security back-up.

 

It had felt like old times. Her thinking she was accepted; Starfleet saying, "Hell no."

 

But at least they'd let her into OCS as a commander once Kathryn interceded.

 

For the shortest career ever after what she'd just said to Shaw, even if she'd said it super quietly. She decided to double down. "And for the record I'm naturally attentive, but you have no goddamn idea what it takes for me to be this fucking perky."

 

She waited for him to put her on report or send her to her quarters or maybe he'd put a merciful end to this and put her up for court martial for conduct unbecoming but to her shock he broke out in laughter so loud it made everyone look over at them.

 

"As you were, people. Just getting to know our first officer." He lowered his voice back to the earlier sub-vocal level. "You kiss your mother with that fucking mouth, Commander?"

 

"My mother is probably dead if she's not still a Borg drone. Drones do not kiss." Unless you counted Unimatrix Zero, but he didn't need to hear about that.

 

"Fair point. Okay so hit me. What's the problem?"

 

"The person I was involved with but now am not is—"

 

"We call that an ex."

 

"Yes, but it's—"

 

"Wait, don't tell me. Complicated?"

 

She did bite back the "Fuck you" this time.

 

He laughed as if he knew she'd been about to say it. "Sorry. Resume story."

 

She rolled her eyes. "I commed her."

 

"Personal line or professional?"

 

"Personal. I got an answering service rather than her voicemail."

 

"Oh, man. You are so done. No more 'it's complicated' bullshit."

 

"Meaning what?"

 

"Meaning she hired one of those services that screens calls from annoying exes."

 

"Why would she do that?"

 

"Clearly you're an annoying ex."

 

"I broke up with her."

 

"Doesn't mean you're not annoying." He picked his padd up.

 

"It's not like her, is what I'm saying."

 

"Unless she's been assigned to some weird deep cover thing by Starfleet Intelligence, she's decided an amicable break-up is for the fucking birds. Has she been assigned to some weird deep cover thing, Hansen?"

 

"I don't know. Maybe."

 

He glanced at her. "Are you being serious right now?"

 

"Yes. She used to be intel. A long time ago, but still."

 

"Hmmm." He seemed to be considering. "No. My money's on you having been an annoying ex, and she hired the service that gets rid of that."

 

"I see no money." When a Ranger said something like that, actual currency was up for grabs.

 

"Betting while on duty is against regs."

 

"Then don't mention money."

 

He laughed again, and she saw the bridge crew react as one, as if they wanted to turn around more than anything but were trying not to.

 

He grinned at her, then said loudly, "Turns out our first officer is funny."

 

Seven saw T'Veen bite back what looked like a small smile. The others just turned and grinned at her. As if getting on with the boss was a huge deal.

 

Had it been that obvious that they weren't gelling at all?

 

"Me and my last two first officers detested each other," he said softly.

 

"Give me time."

 

He laughed again and said, "Fucking A. You just shoot insults back like it's conversational ping pong. I fucking love that. Please don't go back to perky."

 

"Gladly. Is it your goal to use fuck as every part of speech during the course of the day?"

 

"No, but it probably should be." He handed her the padd he was looking at. "Tell me what this is." He had the weirdest look, like he thought she couldn't do it.

 

She only had to glance at the schematic. "This is a shuttlecraft, sir. Three models back." She frowned. "This says it's in the shuttle bay, but it isn't on our manifest."

 

"You memorized our manifest?"

 

"Not for everything. But I have an interest in engineering. I helped design—"

 

"The Delta Flyer. I know." He held his hand out for the padd, brought up a different schematic, and handed it back. "What do you make of this?"

 

She studied the new vessel design. It was using the old shuttlecraft chassis and much of its basic functionality—but in new and frankly exciting ways.

 

Ways that, to her knowledge, were novel. She met his eyes.

 

"You no longer look like your puppy is dead."

 

"Can I look at this shuttle sometime?"

 

"No time like the present. We haven't done a meet and greet tour with the shuttle bay crew yet." He stood and said, "Mura, conn's yours."

 

As Seven followed him to the lift, still holding his padd, she saw T'Veen biting back another half-smile as the lift doors closed. "They gave you an old shuttle to play with?"

 

"Yep. I get my reports done super fast and before the deadline, and always follow the requested format so the person compiling them doesn't have to rework my shit. You'd be surprised what that can get you."

 

She was having trouble imagining the trail from staff officer collecting ship reports to old shuttles, but he had no reason to lie. And he sounded too pompous to be lying. "I'll remember that."

 

"Here we are." He introduced her to the officers on duty in the control room, but said the tour and meeting the rest of the group could wait as he led her to the very back of the shuttle bay.

 

She started to laugh at the signs ringing the shuttle, hanging off what looked like crime-scene tape. Most of them had a picture of him with a speech bubble that just said, "No." It did seem to be his favorite word.

 

He gestured her under the tape and poked in a code at the shuttle door. She could tell from the tones what it was and was surprised when he seemed to figure that out. He said, "Enter this baby without my permission and we will have a problem."

 

She rolled her eyes.

 

"It's a fucking shame they don't have an eye-rolling Olympics. You'd win gold."

 

She almost did it again but managed to stop herself in time. "I've been holding back...obviously."

 

"Why?"

 

She shrugged.

 

"Well, don't. I don't need a first officer who holds back."

 

"Understood. Why are the shade screens on."

 

"Because I like them that way."

 

He led her onto the shuttle, and while she'd expected a mess—parts and tools strewn around perhaps—it was as neat as it would be if she were working it. "May I look around?"

 

"You may."

 

She walked to the place that had a cubby-hole lantern sitting near it and crawled underneath, turning on the lantern.

 

A moment later he was under it with her. "What do you see?"

 

"This is modified to..." She started to laugh. "You're trying to build a cloaking device?"

 

He frowned and studied the configuration she was pointing to. "Oh, no, but I get why you think that." He pulled a circuit out and said, "Now try again."

 

"This is based on the Artifact, isn't it?" She studied him, turning her head, seeing him smile in a way she hadn't since the interview. "Long-range comms enhancements."

 

"Yep." He pulled a tool kit over and dug through it, then handed her a capacitor she had last seen during her time as a drone. "I can't get this to work. What does it say?"

 

She laughed as she looked at the label that had been put on it, the elegance of the Borg script. "Recycle." She handed it back. "You got a dud. I hope you didn't pay much for it."

 

"No, I took it out of a help-yourself scrap heap." He put it back in the toolkit.

 

"Recycle it, sir."

 

"Wouldn't you rather help me reverse engineer it? I get that you're probably trying to tone down the Borg parts of you because of my history—and I'm sure Janeway told you about it before you reported so don't bother to deny it—but in this case, it's a big-ass plus."

 

"The capacitor won't do what you think."

 

He dug out two more items, neither of them Borg and she could feel a smile growing.

 

His answering grin was like a little boy who'd gotten something over on her. "But combine it with those and..."

 

"And I guess I'll be helping you reverse engineer that."

 

"Unless you have other things to do with your free time? I can't commandeer you for my personal project that I work on when I'm off duty. In fact, we should not even be looking at this right now so we're counting this as our lunch break."

 

"Mister By the Book."

 

"I've heard that before."

 

"Except that you were looking at it on the bridge."

 

"I was on break."

 

She rolled her eyes and smiled when he laughed. "I don't currently have other things to do with my free time, Captain. I'd love to do this. It's been a long time since I've tinkered."

 

"It's like riding a bike, Hansen. You'll see." He pushed himself out from underneath and as she followed suit, he held his hand out to help her up. She was glad it was his right hand so he didn't have to deal with her implant when they were getting on so well. "Now, shall we do the actual tour part of the tour? This was sheer indulgence on my part."

 

"Everyone should have a few flaws."

 

"I have a shitload though. Ask anyone on this ship. So don't share this one, okay?"

 

"Your secret's safe with me."

 

##

 

Captain Liam Shaw: Personal Log

 

Well. I guess I've found the woman I met that day. And now that she's located her backbone again, she's actually really fucking fun to work with.

 

Doesn't hurt how good she is with an engineering panel. Strong hands, lighting fast problem solver, always knows what tool I'll need before I ask—sometimes before I do. Never afraid to tell me if she sees a better way and never afraid to discuss it—or argue if it's been the kind of day we both need to blow off steam from.

 

She gives as good as she gets.

 

And now that she's given up trying to impress me, she's full of questions about why things work the way they do. The way only someone new to a ship can be. Fresh eyes. Sometimes it's just a matter of explaining why we do things the way we do.

 

Other times she's right: the way we do it is stupid, but we've just gotten so used to doing it that way. Or it's by the book...but why?

 

I've asked her to start a log of everything she considers stupid. We talk about them at our weekly dinner.

 

She even likes blue steak. Although she says it's green. If she ever just agrees with me, I'll die of shock.

 

I'm starting not to even notice her implants. The other day I was reaching for her hand to pull her up in the shuttle and it was her left one. I'd avoided that but this time, I held out my left hand without thinking.

 

I expected her hand to feel like a machine. The implant was metal, but it was also warm. Weird. But weird interesting, not weird bad.

 

End log.

 

##

 

She was in the shuttle, working with the latest version of the reengineered capacitor when Shaw came in. "I know I'm not supposed to—"

 

"I was late. It's fine." He slid under but sort of stared off rather than at the panel. "I don't expect you to just stand outside and wait for me."

 

"But you've never given me the code."

 

"We both know you memorized the code. Why do I need to give it to you?" The retort lacked his normal good-humored snappiness. He usually lived to argue.

 

She tried to assess him without him realizing it.

 

He always knew though. "Stop it."

 

"You look like someone shot your puppy."

 

"God, it's like karma. Because I deserve that for making fun of your relationship, not knowing that my own was about to go kaput."

 

"You're in a relationship?" She put the capacitor down and rolled to her side so she could watch his face. "Since when?"

 

"Was in one until about ten minutes ago and it's been for about a year. Long distance obviously. She has an intense job so we hardly ever see each other in person. But it was..." He put his hand over his eyes. "Fuck. Why am I telling you this?"

 

"It was what?"

 

"Nice. I thought I'd finally found someone who could like me for being, well, me. I thought Margaret wouldn't try to constantly transform me into some better version of myself."

 

She made a sound of commiseration.

 

"What did that mean? You feeling bad for her?"

 

"No, for you. Been there. Multiple times."

 

"Oh." He rolled to his side. They were lying very close to each other. But it felt natural. Easy. "You ever get hold of your girl?"

 

"No."

 

"I'm sorry."

 

"Well, I'm the bad guy. I broke up with her. You and she can throw a party when she comes up for air."

 

"Oh, I'm the bad guy too. I called it off."

 

She wasn't sure what to say.

 

"No quick-witted reply? That's a first." He picked up the capacitor. "I'm usually the one to leave, but it's because my heart is breaking already. I don't leave for nothing." He held the capacitor up. "Does it work?"

 

She shook her head and he frowned and put it down. "I'm the same way. I leave first and I get blamed for ending the relationship but it was dying slowly on its own. I just didn't want to stick around and watch the long, torturous end."

 

"Amen." He smiled gently at her. "We'll have to try again."

 

"At relationships? I'm swearing them off for a while."

 

"Good call. I was referring to the capacitor."

 

"Oh. Yeah. That I won't give up on."

 

##

 

Captain Liam Shaw: Personal Log

 

I miss Margaret.

 

Sent her birthday present even if we are over because I had it scheduled to ship from the store, and it was the necklace she'd been eyeing. That she'd look amazing in.

 

Did I think she might remember the good times we'd had when she wore it? Yeah, okay, a little bit maybe.

 

Did I think she might reach out? Thank me? Maybe we could be friends at least?

 

Again, maybe.

 

She took it back to the store. She didn't exchange it for anything else. The refund on my credit account this month was my only notice that she wasn't remembering anything about me fondly, not at all.

 

Love fucking sucks.

 

End log.

 

##

 

She was sitting in one of the back seats of the shuttle, working on the capacitor while he was under a different panel, upgrading one of the sensor units. "You know it'll be years before this will fly if you only let me help you. Aren't there other engineers who would want to help?"

 

"You bored of me already, Hansen?"

 

She laughed. "No, but don't any of your friends onboard—and I know you have them—pop by to shoot the shit? So far it's just been us."

 

He slid out from under the panel and sat up, taking a long swig of his beer and smiled at her. "This is my private place. I have people at me every fucking second as captain. It's exhausting. This is my haven, my sanctuary. People know to leave me be."

 

"Yes, the signs are a good indicator." She cocked her head, studying him. "So why do you let me in?"

 

"Who else is going to complement me so seamlessly?" With a grin and another long pull from his bottle, he disappeared back under the panel.

 

"I agree we do here. Do you think we do as a command team?"

 

"Big no on that. But I knew we'd butt heads. Truth is, you need someone who's not like you. Avoid group think and all that. Crew depends on us to consider all the options and you think of yours and I think of mine and then we argue them out—usually in front of the bridge gang—and then we go. So I guess in our way, we are a good command team."

 

She smiled and pulled a tiny panel off the capacitor. "Do you ever wish your first choice had chosen you instead of whatever they did choose?"

 

"No. Because then who would try and fail to fix that capacitor?" She could hear his grin even though she couldn't see his face from where she sat.

 

"I will get it. This model was nearly defunct when I left the collective."

 

"Excuses, excuses." There was a long pause and then he said, almost tentatively, "Are you glad you came here? Name notwithstanding?"

 

"Wouldn't it be nice not to have to caveat that? Just call me Seven, have your hives or whatever, and move on?"

 

"Maybe." There was clanging and then he said, "Hansen, answer the question."

 

She felt the pang of disappointment she always did when he used that name. Even if she'd used it half the time when she was a Ranger. But the last person to call her that had been Bjayzl—well and her creepy husband in the alternate universe. More than enough reason to never want to hear it again.

 

She'd been about to tell him the person who didn't choose him had been a fool. Seven of Nine had been about to tell him that. Annika Hansen settled for saying, "You'll do, I guess. The crew and ship are great, though."

 

He laughed, the sound lightening her heart from the wound he perpetually caused.

 

##

 

Captain Liam Shaw: Personal Log

 

It was so fucking hard to lie to her.

 

It was so fucking hard not to tell her the truth of how she got this job. All of it. How she almost did and why she didn't.

 

And call her by the name she wants.

 

So I pulled out the recommendation letter from fucking Picard and read it over and over while listening to the recording of Locutus's voice from that day.

 

I guess I'll just do it every time I feel myself going soft, wanting to capitulate.

 

I don't care how nice she is to work with. How...

 

Fuck.

 

End log.

 

##

 

She saw the capacitor light up and said, "Shaw, get over here."

 

And he didn't question. Just joined her and stared up at the lovely blue light—she'd changed it from green at his request.

 

"Damn, Hansen. Top shelf bourbon for you tonight."

 

"Right. Like I'm going to fall for that."

 

He fiddled with the thing as if to make sure it wasn't going to go out if they touched it too much. "I'm serious. You want to go to Ten Forward? It would do the crew good to see us together occasionally."

 

"You don't think they know we're in here? Our arrival and departure are logged by the system—and the crew in the control room. The rumor mill..."

 

"You are not wrong. But Ohk lives for gossip and she's heard nothing about us other than we're known to work on this. It's not like we're not in and out getting parts or snagging more food and beverages from their replicator." He grinned at her. "Now if we were all over each other on the dance floor, then people might get the wrong idea."

 

She nodded to show she was conceding without saying she was. "I think doing something fun with someone you are enjoying, in a way that is efficient and challenging, is far sexier than a dance."

 

"I do not disagree." His smile was slow, lazy. So fucking appealing as he didn't look away. Then his expression changed and he blinked and looked at the panel, clearly a bit surprised. "Possibly a little too sexy given the joyful surprise of the finally working capacitor after months of trying. Let's go get that drink, cruise tables, and talk to crew."

 

"All right." She reached up just as he did to unplug the capacitor.

 

They separated as if burned.

 

"Sorry," she said with a laugh.

 

"No, I am. Go ahead. It's your triumph."

 

She unplugged it and put it with the parts they would try to get it to work with. "If you want to go to Ten Forward alone, I can go back to my quarters."

 

"Belay that, Commander. We're a team, right?" His eyes were soft again.

 

"Right."

 

##

 

Captain Liam Shaw: Personal Log

 

I am in trouble.

 

Oh man.

 

End log.

 

##

 

Seven left sickbay, torn shoulder patched up after a nearly disastrous mission, and asked for the location of Shaw. He was in the shuttle.

 

As she made her way, she tried not to see the animal that had leapt at him, the animal she'd gotten in front of first, tossing it off and down and breaking its neck.

 

But not before it ravaged her shoulder, headed for her heart.

 

Shaw was fit but not as strong as she was. Also the thing had bitten into a Borg part of her that hadn't broken under its jaws. He would have been killed.

 

For once it wasn't her fault they'd been in the dangerous situation. After months of him reading her the regs on mission after mission, he'd been the one doing something reckless. But not on purpose. It was supposed to be a beautiful area per the last reported visit to this moon. Safe and all.

 

If she hadn't been there...

 

But the asshole hadn't even stayed in sickbay while she got patched up. After the attack, he'd picked her up, murmuring reassuring things to her, and had the two of them beamed directly to sickbay and the landing party to the main transporter faster than she thought possible, but then had just left her once Ohk said she'd live.

 

With a fucking glare.

 

She slipped under the tape fence and keyed her way into the shuttle, expecting to see him under a panel like nothing was fucking wrong.

 

But he was pacing.

 

She got in front of him, put her hand on his chest, and said, "Fuck you, Shaw."

 

He put his hand on her shoulders and pushed her back gently, against the storage closet of the shuttle. "Why would you do that? You could have been killed."

 

"You would have been killed, you fucking asshole. You couldn't stay and talk to me in sickbay while Ohk worked?" She brought her hands up and knocked his off her shoulders. "And you glared at me? For what? Saving your sorry ass?"

 

He pushed in closer. "For risking yours. For what?"

 

"For you."

 

"God damn it. For what, Hansen?" He looked more helpless than she'd ever seen him.

 

"For you, Shaw." She moved closer to him. "Liam."

 

"You can't call me that. Because if you call me that then I have to call you Seven and I'm not fucking going to." He didn't move away, just stared into her eyes, looking so torn.

 

"Fine. I'll just call you Shaw," she said, taking the step to bring their bodies into contact. "Or Sir. Or Captain."

 

His breath was ragged. "Are you all right?"

 

"Ohk said I was fine."

 

"I'm not asking Ohk. Are you all right?"

 

"Yes." She moved again, this time wrapping her arms around his neck and meeting his eyes. She knew hers were full of need—but also abandon. Daring him to make her back off.

 

She wasn't going to take it further. If he wanted it, he'd need to close the rest of the distance.

 

And he did, wrapping his arms around her, lips on hers—a good kisser. She'd expected that. He paid attention to details in everything, why not this?

 

She pushed him onto one of the seats, straddled him and let him set the pace.

 

He didn't go fast. She wasn't sure how far he was going to let them go as he kissed her then explored the implants on her face and hand. As he buried his face in her neck, he murmured, "I love your perfume. It's my favorite part of showing up to shift now. Getting a hint of it if you move just right. It's never too much."

 

"I like that you smell like soap." She sniffed her way to his hair. "And pine shampoo."

 

"I'm fussy about my hair. Because it's going and I'm..." He looked away.

 

She nodded and kissed her way back to his lips, murmuring, "Insecure?" At his nod, she said, "I'm that way about my implants. At least you'll be handsome no matter what you do with your hair—even shave it. I'll still be Borg."

 

"Do you have no idea how beautiful you are?"

 

"You think so?"

 

"God yeah."

 

She smiled, delighted with this information. "You play that close to the vest. I'm used to more overt admiration."

 

"But you work for me. I'd never want to make you uncomfortable." He laughed. "I say as you straddle me, and I want so very much to take your clothing off."

 

"What's stopping you?"

 

He swallowed hard. "You work for me. This is a bad, bad idea. I just...I thought I was going to lose you. Well first I thought I was going to die but then you jumped in and I was so afraid—for you, though. I've sort of been the walking wounded for so long it doesn't matter what happens to me."

 

"It does. It does matter. But if you think this is something you'll regret, we can just work." She smiled gently, to show him she meant it. She didn't want to make him uncomfortable either.

 

"That's what we should do. Simpler." He eased her up but then grabbed her hand as if afraid she would leave, pulling her with him to get under the panel they'd been working on the night before.

 

She was suddenly very glad this shuttle would take forever to finish. They'd always have a place to be alone.

 

He stared up at the panel, not reaching for it, then turned his head and met her eyes. "Maybe a little more kissing?"

 

With a smile she moved so they could continue. He kissed her for a very long time before he finally let her go and asked for a tool. It wasn't really the one she needed so she handed the right one to him instead.

 

He took it but his hand lingered on hers. "Only in here, right? Out there, nothing has changed."

 

"Whatever you want."

 

"No. Not whatever I want. Whatever you want, Seven. I never want you to feel uncomfortable."

 

She froze and met his eyes.

 

He closed his. "I mean Hansen."

 

"Maybe in here it can be Seven."

 

"No. That was a slip."

 

"But you called me Seven during the interview. And when you told me I didn't have the position. It wasn't until I got it that you stopped using the name I really want to hear from you."

 

"Hansen, it was a slip."

 

"No, it wasn't. Maybe now, but not then. What changed?"

 

He looked away.

 

"What fucking changed, Liam?"

 

"I said—"

 

"I don't goddamn care. Why was I Seven before but not once you picked me?"

 

"I didn't fucking pick you."

 

"I know. But I was your second choice." She couldn't read his expression, didn't like how he moved away from her.

 

"Janeway." He slid out from under the console then looked away. "The first pick didn't..." He was up and pacing again.

 

"Didn't what?"

 

"Didn't have another option. Janeway nixed that selection and told me to take you. You say no to her only if you're not a big fan of a continuing career."

 

"Wait, what?" She eased out, sitting with her knees pulled up to her chin, her arms wrapped around them. "Do you think I asked her to do that? After you turned me down?"

 

"I don't know. Did you?" He was angry now.

 

And their lovely moment was gone. As if it never fucking existed.

 

"No. I was applying for other jobs when you contacted me to tell me I had the position." She got up slowly, feeling ancient and suddenly very, very tired. "You know, the stupid thing is, I keep expecting to find a safe place to land. And I never fucking do. But I just keep hoping that someone will see the potential and actually want me to be part of their mission or their crew or their organization." Or their fucking heart—but as she was. Not as what they wanted her to be.

 

And he'd seemed to like the real her. "I knew I wasn't your first choice. I could live with that. But this... Why hurt me this way? If you're having cold feet about having just kissed me, just tell me to get out. And I will and we will never, ever speak of this, and I'll let you have your little haven back all to yourself."

 

"Get out," he said softly.

 

"With pleasure."

 

He turned to meet her eyes. His were...hurt? He was fucking hurt?

 

She strode over, grabbed the capacitor, and stomped it into bits. "There. No goddamned trace of me, Captain." Then she turned and fled, the door of the shuttle barely opening in time before she was to it.

 

She didn't cry until she was safely to her quarters and had checked to make sure the regenerator she'd used as a Ranger was fully charged.

 

##

 

Captain Liam Shaw: Personal Log

 

Fuck.

 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

 

End log.

 

##

 

She hadn't even reached her chair when he was up and nodding toward observation. She met his eyes, kept hers steely, and mouthed, "No."

 

There, let him see how it felt.

 

He got very close and murmured, "Don't make me make it an order." And then he was walking away and to the steps and goddamn it, she was following him.

 

Once the door closed, she asked, "How exactly would you write that up if I'd just stayed out there instead of following you in? 'I wanted to talk to her about how we almost fucked but she wasn't interested in having that particular conversation. So I ordered her to.' What happened to not wanting to make me feel uncomfortable?"

 

He took a seat facing the door, gestured to the chair across the table from him. "Sit down, Commander."

 

"I'm good here." She crossed her arms and tilted her head, making sure her expression was the one that used to piss a lot of people off really fast. "This is Ranger me, in case you were wondering. I'm done trying to impress you."

 

"Yeah, I don't like Ranger you. And your message is coming through loud and clear. Now sit the fuck down." He met her eyes, and she was about to tell him where to shove this whole fucking thing when she realized his hand was trembling.

 

He looked down at it like it was a traitor. "I need to tell you some things."

 

"I'm sure I'll love that," she said. But she sat.

 

"I'm going to talk. And you're going to listen. Not because I want to hurt you but because I want to tell you everything. And I can't do that if we get sidetracked with arguing."

 

"Okay."

 

He was staring at his hand again. "This happens when I'm stressed. It started after—"

 

"Wolf 359."

 

"Please don't interrupt." He sounded almost desperate.

 

"Sorry. Won't happen again."

 

"Yeah, after that. I feel like shit about what I said. Because that's not the real story. Or it's half the real story but not all of it." He sighed and stared down at the table, not talking. For a long time.

 

"I get I can't interrupt but is there a point where I can walk out if you can't find words to talk to me?"

 

His head shot up and she could tell she was pushing him and not in a good way.

 

"I interviewed you and I loved our interaction. How natural it felt. I even told the HR rep who set up the interview that it went really well. The next day I got a letter of recommendation for you from Admiral Picard. HR had held it back even though they said it was an accidental omission. One they only found once we were over and it had gone really well? I don't think so."

 

She held up her hand.

 

"What? And thank you for not blurting out whatever you want to say."

 

"I didn't know there was anything from him in my file. He gave me his not actually real field commission and left. That was the last time I saw him."

 

"Oh, I believe you. And the letter was written right after you joined Starfleet. Guess he was pissed off that him making you a captain and assigning you as commanding officer of the Stargazer—despite having zero actual authority to do that—was countermanded. He seemed bound and determined to put his stamp of approval on you via this letter."

 

"I didn't ask him to."

 

"But there it was. Your reference was Locutus himself. I'll be honest: if I'd seen it when I was ranking candidates for the job, I wouldn't have interviewed you. But now I had, and suddenly I was wondering if he would be on the ship, visiting you, wanting me to host him in my goddamn dining room after he blew up my fucking world all those years ago."

 

She went very still. "And I was Borg too."

 

"And you were Borg too. The second-choice candidate wasn't as good as you, but she was baggage free Borg wise. So I picked her, I contacted you to let you know you weren't selected, and I sent my pick in where it would normally just go through.

 

"I didn't realize your former captain had decided all appointments for first officer and higher had to go through her. She wasn't in the job when I hired your predecessor so that was all new for me. Normally she rubber stamps from what I've gathered from colleagues. But for you, she took a special interest, like I told you yesterday. I said I'd take Annika Hansen, but not Seven of Nine. She said you'd get used to your human name. It was done."

 

"She knew that going in? That you weren't going to use the name I prefer?" How could she do that to her? "And for the record I had no idea she was doing any of this."

 

"Okay."

 

"What exactly is the point of all this?"

 

"I just wanted you to know the truth."

 

She scoffed. "Right. The truth. Let me see if I've got it right. First you interviewed me and it was a great interview. Then you saw a scary letter from an old man who once was Borg talking me up and you decided to fucking ignore the interview and how well we gelled and just pick someone else. But then the big bad Janeway made you pick me after all so you said only if I get to call her by a name she no longer uses. And she said sure, hurt her everyday but for God's sake give her that job. How am I doing?"

 

He looked down.

 

"And then I show up, and you're so fucking weird that I act completely out of character because I'm so thrown. All because you're afraid of the fucking Borg. But I'm not Borg, Liam. I'm ex Borg. I'm a goddamned human. A victim. More than you were. I was taken as a fucking child, you dick."

 

"If you're so fucking human, then why do you want to be called by a Borg name? You can't have it both ways, Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix One. Third in line for what exactly? If I understand the Borg, Unimatrix One was the designation for the cube the Queen was on. So you two were tight, I guess? Not tight enough to get a name like Picard did but still. Buds, right? You were in the chain of command."

 

"You wouldn't understand."

 

"That I believe. How a cult of monsters works is probably beyond me. You know what else is? Why you want to call yourself after your fucking captors." He held a hand up when she was about to answer. "You forgot to include last night in your skewering of me."

 

"The train wreck that might have been. I didn't forget it. I'll never be able to, sir. Because you chose to hurt me right as we were getting close. I used to feel bad for you when it came to Margaret. Now I just feel sorry for her—for any of them—if this is how you are. They didn't want to change you, Shaw. They just wanted you to show an emotion that wasn't fucking fear." She stood and walked to the door.

 

"I did not dismiss you."

 

"Fuck you. Put me on report. I dare you." And she walked out and went to her chair, about to come out of her skin but forcing herself to sit, to let the pain slide off as she waited for security to come up and escort her off the bridge but they never came. Right before end of shift, he came out and sat down next to her.

 

He keyed something into his padd and handed it to her. It was in the note-taking app, a place he could erase any trace of it. Do you want to be transferred to Beta or Gamma shift?

 

That would be seen as a demotion. I'm not stupid. She handed the padd back, not even looking at him.

 

He keyed something else in and passed it back. I know. I just wanted to offer it. Maybe it would be more comfortable for you?

 

No, it would be more comfortable for you. Thanks but no. She held it up to him, making sure he'd read it, and then erased all of it and handed the padd back. "Have a good evening, sir," she said as the beta shift showed up and relieved them.

 

She heard him sigh as she walked away. She didn't look back to see his expression.

 

##

 

Captain Liam Shaw: Personal Log

 

Note to self: the next time I think explaining will make anything better, see today.

 

End log.

 

##

 

She stood at the transporter, waiting for the VIPs to beam over for their tour of the ship. Shaw tended to assign her these duties. He said she was warmer and he was probably right.

 

She'd asked Sidney to join her on this one. She was excellent at showing actual joy when it came to talking about the ship and knew an amazing amount of facts. Plus Seven enjoyed her company. Sidney had gone out of her way to be welcoming and for reasons known only to her called her Commander Seven when they were in private.

 

"Are you okay, ma'am?"

 

"I'm fine." She looked over at her. "Why, is something amiss with—"

 

"No. It's just you and the captain seemed to be enjoying each other. Well at first you weren't, but then you were and now..."

 

"How is this your business, Ensign?"

 

Sidney sighed and fidgeted a little. "It's not, I guess. Only we sit there, with you two, and your moods affect the bridge."

 

"I will endeavor to be more chipper."

 

"That's not what I meant." She sighed and lowered her voice. "The rumor mill used to put you in his shuttle after hours. Helping refurb it or whatever he's doing. What is he doing?"

 

"I am not sure he knows." That was snotty but she couldn't stop herself.

 

Sidney laughed. "Well, now you aren't there, per the grapevine."

 

"I was consulting on some things from the Artifact. I helped him with them and now am done. Nothing to see." She gave her the most untroubled smile she could.

 

"You want me to put that on the grapevine, don't you?"

 

"Please. The captain and I are oil and water, Sidney. But we're united in our desire to protect the crew and the ship."

 

"I know." She smiled gently. "I just liked it better when you were united in other ways."

 

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

 

The transporter tech said, "They're ready to transport, Commander Hansen."

 

"Energize." She smiled at Sidney. "Ready to wow them?"

 

"Dog and pony show take four hundred and seventy eight."

 

Seven laughed. "It does feel that way sometimes."

 

##

 

Captain Liam Shaw: Personal Log

 

I've been thinking a lot about command teams. What they are, what they aren't. What they could be. What they shouldn't be.

 

I think about Janeway. Her command team. Now her marriage. To her former fucking first officer.

 

I'm thinking about marriage. How it might be. How it won't be. How I wish it would be.

 

Fuck, I've had a lot to drink. I'm going to put the bottle away, take some antitox, and go to bed.

 

It's just...I never knew you could miss something so fucking much.

 

Even when it's sitting right next to you.

 

End log.

 

##

 

Seven surveyed the bar. It was the kind of place most people on the ship wouldn't set foot in, but she'd frequented places like this in her Ranger days. There was a club on this level and rooms on the upper floors catering to all sorts of tastes. She had a key for a standard room hanging around her neck.

 

This place was the opposite of subtle. If you had a room and wanted to fuck, you wore the key. She was here for one thing and she wanted it to be female.

 

She sat at the bar, ordered a bourbon, then turned to survey the room but saw Shaw walk in. Their eyes met across the space, and she was about to go tell him to get the fuck out when a gorgeous brunette walked over to her.

 

Fuck Shaw. Or not.

 

Definitely not.

 

"Hi," the woman said. "I'm Shalana."

 

"Seven." God that felt good.

 

Shalana ran her hand over Seven's eyebrow implant. "Do I want to know about this?"

 

"You really don't."

 

Laughing she trailed her finger down Seven's nose, tracing her lips, then heading down her chin and neck, stopping where the key hung in her cleavage. "You're looking for someone?"

 

"I am and I very much like the someone I'm seeing in front of me." She smiled and pulled her in for a kiss. It was a long kiss and she expected Shaw would be gone when she pulled away.

 

But instead, he was drinking wine at a nearby table. His eyes not leaving them.

 

Shalana followed her eyes. "Oh."

 

"Oh what?"

 

"I don't do that..."

 

"I'm not with him."

 

"Right. Yeah. I've heard that. And then suddenly we're in a room and there's some creeper who's going to get off watching. I don't think so." And she walked away.

 

Seven looked over at Shaw. He was smirking.

 

"God fucking damn it." She was up and stomping over and he stood, sipping his wine.

 

"Heya, Hansen."

 

"Fuck you. Goddamn cockblocker."

 

"Sad for you. She was pretty." He made an expression of fake pity.

 

"I hate you so goddamn much. Did you follow me in here?"

 

"Yeah." He was smiling, a dangerous smile. "Wanted to see what you were up to these days. God knows I don't see you much on the ship."

 

"You see me every fucking shift."

 

"Yeah, well, that doesn't count."

 

"How much have you had to drink?"

 

He laughed, his smirk got wider. "Amazingly this is my first of the night. And I wasn't trying to spoil your fun. I just really wanted to see what kind of place your taste runs to. Gotta say...kind of the opposite of classy."

 

"Well then you run along to the nice side of town and leave me in peace."

 

"Why should you be at peace when I'm not?"

 

"And whose fault is that?" She wanted to punch him or possibly kiss him. She wasn't entirely sure. She turned to leave and he grabbed her arm and yanked her back, and she slammed into him. "What the fuck are you doing?"

 

"I have no idea. But all those pretty people over there are not for you."

 

Since she'd left her bourbon at the bar and wasn't about to drink it when it had been sitting unattended, she took his wineglass and threw back some not very good red. "Ugh."

 

"Agreed." He picked the key up, pulling the chain it was on lightly, his fingers teasing over her cleavage. "I want to see the rooms here. I'm sure they have turndown service and little chocolates and—"

 

She yanked the key back. "Go away, Shaw."

 

He took the wineglass and put it down, then grasped her hand and nodded to the elevators. "Show me the room."

 

"Why?"

 

"Because I'm goddamn ordering you to."

 

"Not here. I am not Annika Hansen here. Seven of Nine is in the building. The Borg you're so fucking terrified of. Go be small somewhere else." She tried to free her hand but his grip was like iron. She could wrench free but she'd probably break his wrist.

 

Not that she didn't have a regenerator with her. One always should in a place like this. But using it on her goddamned captain had not been part of her plans."

 

"Let me go or I will hurt you, Shaw."

 

"Well, that would only be fair, right? Because I hurt you." His look was the helpless one she was realizing she was entirely powerless against. He nuzzled her neck, worked his way to her ear, laying his mouth over it, whispering, "I miss you so goddamned much." He pulled her hand down, over his crotch—he really wanted her. Then he pulled the chain holding the key over her head and eased her to the elevators.

 

"Why? Why now? You aren't even drunk. Is this a game? Are you going to say I took advantage of you, the upstanding Starfleet officer. Me the stronger of us, the reckless one, the former Borg, the former Ranger, a person given to violence. Is this your way to get me off your ship? Accuse me of rape?"

 

He took out his padd, pulled her close, took a video of them and said, "This is entirely consensual. Right?" He looked at her and she nodded.

 

"Words."

 

"Right. It's consensual."

 

He stopped the recording, sent the video to both of them, and then stashed his padd. "Now can we fucking go see the room?"

 

"Yes." She didn't know why he was doing this, but she knew why she was.

 

She also knew this wasn't going to end well. But she didn't care.

 

She came here to fuck. She was going to fuck the last person she expected, but she was still going to fuck.

 

They rode the elevator up to the fourth floor, found their room, and she took the key and opened it.

 

"Oh, yeah. Real swanky." He took in the sex paraphernalia on the shelves. "Hope they clean those."

 

"You know what? Forget it." She was halfway to the door but he caught her, pushing her against the wall, pulling her skirt up and her panties down as she pushed his pants and underwear down. And then he was hiking her up, settling her on him, groaning as she took him in, kissing her roughly, as if he couldn't stand her even if he was fucking her.

 

He made no effort to get her off, just thrust hard but just when she thought he was on the verge, he slowed, both his thrusting and the way he was kissing her. He eased out of her and kissed his way down her body, stripping her remaining clothes off as he went. Until...there.

 

"Oh fuck," she said as his tongue slid over her, as he worked her with a perfect combination of sucking and fingers. She almost collapsed onto him as she came loudly.

 

She managed to not call his name out. Later perhaps. If this didn't go south after their passion was slaked.

 

She slid down the wall and he backed up and pulled off his clothes, pulling her away from the wall so he had room to lie over her, to resume the thrusting. Hard, almost vicious—and so fucking welcome.

 

She met his eyes, expecting anger or regret already brewing but saw only lust, only his smirk that was sexy and aggravating, and she tried to kiss it off his face as he pumped and then called out, lying still finally, not saying anything, but holding on to her tightly, kissing her skin where his head was resting.

 

"Why, Liam?"

 

He looked up and touched her cheek gently. "Because I don't want anyone else to have you tonight."

 

"Why?"

 

"Because it's the anniversary of Wolf. And I am going to fuck you all night." He pulled out the pills that would make that happen. A lot of the Rangers used them.

 

"I want some too."

 

"Orgasms all around then." He frowned. "Tell me to go and I will."

 

"Are you going to punish me for Wolf? Are you fucking me because I'm Borg not in spite of it?"

 

"I'm fucking you because you're you. And every other goddamn day, I can ignore that you're you. But not tonight. Tonight, you're mine."

 

"But you're not mine."

 

"I am for tonight. Until you send me away."

 

"I'm not going to send you away." But, when he inevitably told her, at the end of whatever this was, that it could never happen again, she'd be the first to leave this room and head back to the ship.

 

"I don't know what all those toys are for. Wanna show me?"

 

"Yeah. I do. Do you want something in particular..."

 

"I don't want games. I don't want restraints. I want you free to go and same for me. Free to go but not going, not tonight."

 

"We'll have to go eventually."

 

He traced her implant, first her hand, then her eyebrow. "And knowing you, you'll storm out first. Knowing how this works. How it can't ever hap—"

 

She put her hand over his mouth. "Don't. Or I will leave. I know the rules, but I don't need to hear them."

 

"Okay then." He eased out of her and stood, drawing her up with him to the shelves. He watched her eyes as he touched each toy.

 

She knew that for every one he pulled, her eyes must have dilated. "Those are all for me."

 

"Well aware. Pick something you think I'll like."

 

She did and then let him push her onto a padded table. He grinned as he adjusted the height with a switch, murmuring that he loved technology. Then he eased one of the toys into her and turned it onto the lowest setting, then slowly turned it up as he fed her one of the pills, putting it under her tongue to melt, then taking one for himself.

 

She was writhing in no time. The feeling elevated by the pills, by how fast she was coming back, how he turned the toy up higher, almost painfully high and she came screaming.

 

Then he pulled it out and plunged into her. She expected him to close his eyes but he watched her, wearing a smile that was lovely and possessive and probably something she'd never see again. Until he came, groaning and calling out.

 

But not her name. Neither of them was giving the other that tonight.

 

He pulled her up to kiss him, was so gentle she began to tremble in his arms. "Did you know it was Wolf—I mean when it was happening?"

 

She nodded. "The Queen liked to let the drones know when great victories happened. We didn't see the battle itself, not those of us still in the Delta Quadrant, but we felt it."

 

"Are you afraid they'll find you?"

 

"They're probably gone after how we got out of the Delta Quadrant. All that remains is the Jurati."

 

"I don't believe that." He stroked back her hair. "I wish you'd come back to work on the shuttle."

 

"No."

 

He laughed, a puff of not terribly amused air. "Now I know how people feel when I say it."

 

"Yes." She wrapped her legs around him, pulled him closer and began to play, stroking life back into him. "Give me another pill."

 

"Officer thinking, Hans—"

 

She had her hand over his mouth again. "Don't use that name on this night in this room."

 

"I'm not going to call you the other one."

 

"Then don't call me anything." She opened her mouth for the next pill, and then picked one out for him when he held the container to her, sticking it under his tongue.

 

He captured her fingers between his lips, sucked on them gently and she felt as if there was a direct circuit from there to parts lower. She reached for the toy she'd picked out for him and smiled as he nearly collapsed once it was on him. It simulated a hand—a very talented, very relentless hand. She slid off the table, let him lean against it as he was lost to sensations, moaning and telling her it was too much until she hugged him from the side, kissing him slowly and God help her lovingly.

 

She'd blame it on the pills, on the toys, on how long it had been since she'd had sex.

 

She would never, ever admit that she was kissing him that way because she'd done the dumbest thing possible.

 

She'd fallen in love.

 

He came clutching her to him, head thrown back, looking so helpless and so hers that she had to remind herself again that this interlude would end.

 

She gently removed the toy and he said, "Bed. Lie down now." But he was already coming back. The pills could be hard on a body so after he was lying down, she got the regenerator and checked his blood pressure and respiration.

 

"Wouldn't me dropping dead be the answer to all your problems?" He kissed her hand as she worked.

 

"It really wouldn't."

 

"Why not?"

 

She just shook her head. She was an idiot but she was sure as shit not going to tell this man that she loved him too much for him to die.

 

Hadn't she fucking proven that already? When she took on the animal intent on killing him?

 

His readings were excellent. She checked her own, not answering his question even when he asked again. She was fine too.

 

"Is this a good night for you?" She touched his forehead, let her hand drift into his beard.

 

"Not historically. Tonight it is though." He pulled her onto him. "Ride me, my queen."

 

She frowned and pulled back.

 

He immediately looked sorry. "No, I meant like goddess/royalty queen. Not Borg."

 

"Are you sure?"

 

"I really am." He was urging her on top of him, and she let him guide her into position. "If you want to fuck me really hard—get some anger out—I'm okay with that."

 

"What if I want to fuck you gently and hold my anger in?"

 

His smile was luminous. "I'm okay with that too."

 

"Part of me wants to walk out the door."

 

He nodded, pulling her down to him by the hair, but large clumps so it didn't hurt. "I get that but don't. Don't leave me."

 

"But you're going to make us leave each other."

 

"It doesn't have to make sense. Not tonight."

 

That became her mantra, through the night, into morning.

 

And then she left first, just as she'd planned, trying to ignore how goddamned much she wanted him to tell her to stay.

 

He didn't.

 

##

 

Captain Liam Shaw: Personal Log

 

I did not make things better.

 

I may have made things worse.

 

But I will never regret that I did it.

 

End log.

 

##

 

Seven was sitting in Ten Forward, a week after the encounter as she'd come to term it, when Shaw slid into the booth across from her. The place wasn't busy at this hour and they sat in relative silence, each drinking their poison of choice, not meeting each other's eyes.

 

"This is fun," she said finally, not able to resist the urge to poke, to needle—to hurt him just a little. "Is now when you tell me you weren't thinking clearly? That you're sorry. That if I want to bring you up on charges...?"

 

"No. Now's the time when I tell you I was definitely thinking clearly. And the only thing I'm sorry about is that you won't come back to work on the shuttle." He finally looked at her. "I liked it better in there with you." His voice shook a tiny bit and like any chink in his armor, it nearly undid her.

 

So she just shook her head and he nodded and got up and left her in peace.

 

A short peace though because Ohk sat down across from her.

 

She smiled and shook her head—this damn woman could get past her defenses, get her to talk about way too many things with way too much candor. "Hi."

 

"Would it surprise you, Seven, to know I have a large bit of control over what takes over the grapevine?"

 

"A Trill wanting to be in the middle of everything? Knowing every little detail of every little thing?" She took the moment she needed to remember how it felt to assimilate Trills. "No, actually. Their greatest regret when joining the collective was that they would no longer be the only ones to hold all the knowledge they'd spent lifetimes gathering."

 

Ohk laughed. "That sounds about right. How many joined Trills did you assimilate?"

 

"Personally, none. But the collective at large? A few."

 

"A huge loss to my planet. Trills like me, unjoined, not so much. So I guess the grapevine is my symbiont. All those people coming in and out of sickbay to get something small treated and talk to the doctor with the willing ear. And afterwards, if there was something on the grapevine about you that wasn't true, well, gosh, the real story comes out."

 

"You have a point for outing yourself?"

 

"The man that just left." She smiled gently.

 

"Your friend."

 

"But not yours, I'm afraid. Or not anymore." She leaned in. "He was more fun when he was. So, frankly, were you."

 

"I don't know where you're going with this, but please stop."

 

"I saw his face when he beamed into sickbay with you. Raw terror that you were going to die. You, not a member of his crew. You."

 

She nodded but refused to meet her eyes.

 

"He's such a good man, Seven. Just give him time."

 

She frowned. "You usually call me Commander or nothing. Never the name I like." She laughed bitterly. "And I think you know how much I want to hear it."

 

"I do."

 

"It's been my experience, Ohk, gleaned from my years in the Delta Quadrant and as a Ranger, that we don't have that much time to squander. How much time do you think I need to give him?"

 

Finally, Ohk looked unsteady. "I'm not sure."

 

Seven leaned in. "He's trapped in an event that changed him. I do understand that. I have moments that defined me too. But he's not moving on."

 

"I know."

 

"And how long ago was it? How old is he? What's going to shock his system enough to make him let go of Wolf 359?" She threw back her bourbon. "Especially when he looks at me?" She ran her fingers over the eyebrow implant.

 

Ohk didn't have an answer.

 

Seven hadn't really expected her to.

 

##

 

Captain Liam Shaw: Personal Log

 

I wish I could go back and tell that boy on the Constance what was going to happen. To pull him into a hug and line up the therapy he'll need but won't be able to bring himself to go to for years so it's ready for him when he really needs it. To warn my parents and give them tips on how to keep him sane and feeling safe. How to help him stay human.

 

To tell him it's okay to be afraid. That it's not the end of the world even if it feels like it. That a day will come when he falls in love with an ex-Borg and that the idea that nothing else will matter but keeping her safe and not making her any more unhappy than she already is, is a stupid one. That he should reach out and make her happy and make himself happy and let the past fucking go.

 

That she's remarkable and beautiful and so fucking smart he has trouble keeping up with her but loves doing it. That she'll willingly spend time under an engineering console instead of asking him to do things he doesn't like with people he doesn't want to hang out with, and the space will be filled with her laughter and perfume when she moves just right.

 

I'd tell him that she could tear him apart with what she knows of him, how she makes him feel, but she's taking care of him the only way he'll let her. By staying away, by making herself disappear from his life.

 

I'd tell him not to be like me. Be like her. Be fucking brave. Be reckless. Grab what he wants and hold on. Or he'll find himself old and broken inside and alone.

 

Fuck. Doing officer evals makes me maudlin.

 

She'll make such a glorious captain.

 

And she'll forget all about me.

 

I'll never be able to do the same.

 

End log.

 

##

 

Seven stood with Picard's group, processing that the crew she'd grown to love as much as Shaw did was trying to kill them all.

 

As she stood next to him, she could feel the queen, still trying to find the internal switch that would shut her off, would turn her into a drone again.

 

"You were my chosen one," the queen had murmured in her ear when she'd first felt her on the bridge. "You will be who I become."

 

Her body: the queen's instrument. She could feel the decay of the link between them, the weakness of the queen—the lack of a collective until all of Starfleet's youngest were activated at once.

 

It had been overwhelming. She was still fighting the odd sensations.

 

But it hadn't stopped her from getting off the bridge, helping get the group on the shuttle that would take them away from all of this. To do...what, exactly?

 

How did you fight a brand new collective led by an ages-old queen?

 

Worf's shout of "Incoming," shocked her out of her reverie.

 

Shaw was next to her and then he did the last thing she expected but also, she thought, the most authentically him thing to do. He pushed forward and said, "Go, go, we'll cover you."

 

And even though Worf and Raffi were with them both, he meant we as in her and him. And she followed him without a thought. Because this man who had hidden from Picard when he showed up on board, and all those months ago when Picard's letter had been enough to spook him out of selecting her, was gone. This Liam was willing to provide cover so Picard could get away.

 

From the Borg.

 

Until he was hit and everything went into slow motion, and two time streams started to play in her head as she abandoned shooting and went to him.

 

She could hear Raffi behind her, taking up the defense and she yelled at her to go, even as she was back in the Nacelle room, life support going, lying on the floor between Shaw and the dead changeling.

 

"I might not get to say this. But I want you to know that I love you." He'd pushed her hair back, stared at her but his eyes weren't helpless. Not anymore. He looked happy and kind of amused and so fucking loving. "You are the best thing that ever happened to me, Seven. Even if we're probably going to die."

 

And she'd kissed him and told him she loved him too. They would have gone out as lovers, intertwined next to the foe they'd vanquished.

 

And now he lay on the floor, staring up at her, and she knew and he knew and she could tell Raffi knew that he was not getting back up.

 

And his words were beautiful as he gave her the ship, and she held his head and thought frantically, trying to kick out the old time stream and the voice of her former queen and everything.

 

There had to be a way to fix what she'd destroyed.

 

But he was gone and his eyes were open, but he'd been at peace with that. He was okay with dying so the others wouldn't.

 

But she wasn't okay with that. She was not okay with that at all. As her eyes welled with tears, she heard the quiet whisper of Agnes: You know what to do, Seven. You've done it before. Just preserve the body for later.

 

And she began to laugh as tears streamed down and Raffi crouched next to her, clearly worried, saying, "Baby, it's okay."

 

"Maybe. Maybe it is." She got up, said, "Cover me," knowing Raffi would do it as she searched the maintenance deck for what had to be there, it just had to.

 

And then she found it. A cold storage locker. The kind you put delicate biotech in. Big enough for a dozen large pieces or hundreds of small. Empty though, and running so it was freezing cold, and big enough for him.

 

"Raff, help me move him."

 

"Seven, we don't have time. And we need your head in the game."

 

"Help me get him in there, and I can guarantee my head will be." She touched her cheek. "Also, it's really good to see you. I've missed my friend."

 

And she could see Raffi get it as she tilted her head into her hand, as she looked over at Shaw, then at the cold storage drawer. "Is this a Borg thing, Sev?"

 

"Yeah. Yeah, it is."

 

"Fuck. Fine." And she was moving, no other questions, letting Seven save the lover that had replaced her with such a generous heart that it almost made her cry more.

 

But she didn't need tears and they would help no one. Especially not Liam.

 

They got him into the drawer and she murmured in his ear even though she knew he wasn't there, "I will save you." Then she shut the door and willed her attention on the problem at hand. "Let's go. There's more of us who weren't turned around the ship. There have to be."

 

And there were.

 

##

 

Captain Liam Shaw: Personal Log

 

So, um, I'm alive. And possibly Borg. And on really good painkillers.

 

I haven't seen her. But if I quiet my mind, I can feel her. Is that a good thing or bad?

 

End log.

 

##

 

Seven walked into sickbay and saw Liam in the far bed. She stood at the door, just watching him as he talked to Ohk. So wonderfully alive.

 

And awake. She'd been dashing in to give infusions as the clean-up in the days after Frontier Day took up most of her time but he'd been asleep whenever she was there.

 

Which was good in a way. This conversation was going to be potentially awkward.

 

But then he turned and found her, his eyes going to her, and he smiled and held out his hand. And there were worlds of emotion in the gesture: love and forgiveness, respect and admiration. "Seven," he said, his voice loving, "get the fuck over here. Jesus."

 

And she went laughing, covering the distance in a rush but then careful not to jostle him when she sat on the stool that seemed to be waiting for her.

 

"Hi," he said taking her hand, and his smile was like nothing she'd ever seen from him. Radiant and gorgeous—and utterly at peace.

 

"Hi." She met Ohk's eyes. "Is it okay to visit?"

 

"It's more than okay." She put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, then left them.

 

He didn't let go of her hand. "New pip. I guess Starfleet took my recommendation, huh?"

 

She nodded, smiling. "Tuvok showed me your video. Very emo."

 

"Yeah, well, I have hidden depths." He grinned at her. "Congratulations, Captain Seven of Nine."

 

"Thank you, Captain Liam Shaw who taught me so fucking much and I will never forget that. And who took a chance on me even if he was forced into it and was a total dick about it."

 

He laughed. "Wow, that was such a mixed message. I love it. I'd hate to only be sappy. That's not us."

 

"No. But maybe a little."

 

"I'm actually probably going to be a lot sappier than you think."

 

"I don't think I mind."

 

"Good. So, okay, Ohk explained this to me. My resurrection. And that we're keeping it a secret how you did it—stasis in cold storage allows for many creative reasons I'm alive. Starting with I was never dead to begin with. Ohk doesn't lie and yet she put that on the report."

 

"She knows. Raffi knows. And I know. That's it. Well, and Agnes probably knows."

 

"Agnes? Jurati Agnes?" At her nod, he asked, "So am I Borg?"

 

"Yes, maybe, but the Jurati version. Which is way preferable to the other."

 

"Wow. Okay." He laughed softly.

 

"Or..."

 

"Or...?"

 

"Or we might be something new."

 

His eyebrows went way, way up. But then he pulled her hand to his lips, kissed it, and said, "Explain."

 

"The Borg queen tried to assimilate me. But not for a drone. She needed a new body. She was going to use mine."

 

"Fuck me." He held on harder. "But you're too strong for her."

 

"No. Well, I don't know, actually, but it was more, I think, that I was already part of Agnes's collective. Her first member, in fact. But the queen was barraging me with transmittable pheromones, I guess would be the easiest way to put it. The kind she uses to bond drones to her. So when I gave you the nanoprobes, they were a bit of Agnes and a bit influenced by the queen who attacked us." She leaned in. "But they were mostly mine and I love you."

 

"And I love you."

 

She leaned down and kissed him for a very long time. "But Agnes is all about consent and this wasn't. You seem to be linked to me and—"

 

"It's a resonance, not mind reading, not like the Vulcan bond. And we already had resonance when we were working in the shuttle. When you saved me from that animal. When you followed me to protect Picard and his people as they escaped. We've been linked since the moment we met, Seven. We just didn't know it." He pulled her hand to his lips again. "I'm okay with all of this. I feel..." His eyes teared up. "I feel free for the first time in decades." He met her eyes. "And I have you to thank."

 

"No. It was inside you all the time. You're so brave, Liam. You're not broken and you're not small and you're mine, if you want to be. But if you don't, we'll go visit Agnes and she'll help us lower the resonance. You never have to stay with me if you don't want to."

 

"Actually I do from what Ohk said." He grinned. "For the first few months. For the infusions."

 

"Oh, yeah. But not indefinitely."

 

His eyes were sparkling. "But you didn't say that. Ball and chain for a few months is a thing to consider. Especially when she's reckless and a pain in the ass." His grin changed. "And you're mine, right? It works both ways? I'm yours and you're mine?"

 

She nodded.

 

"Words would be nice, Hansen. The sappier the better."

 

She let out the laugh that she could not control, the cackle that he always seemed to get a charge out of making her do. "Fuck you, Shaw."

 

"Yeah, right back at you, my love."

 

##

 

Captain Liam Shaw: Personal Log

 

She's mine, she's mine, she's mine, she's mine, she's mine.

 

And I'm hers.

 

End log.

 

##

 

She sat with Liam in Kathryn's office. They were both being very quiet as Kathryn did something on her terminal, but underneath the table, they were holding hands.

 

Chakotay walked in a moment later, seemed to take in that they were touching, smiled in a very sweet way, then took a seat across from them. "So, thank you both for everything you did. Just in case she launches into it and forgets to say that." He looked over at Liam. "Good to meet you."

 

"We've met, Chuckles."

 

He burst out laughing when Seven expected him to be pissed. "I mean the person who could make this amazing woman look so happy. I wasn't sure that person existed. I'm well acquainted with the man who was in my squadron when I was teaching at the Academy. Right, Cadet Limshaw?"

 

"And they say hazing is dead."

 

Then more footsteps sounded and B'Elanna walked in, stopped to put her arms around Seven from the back and give her a big hug, then she nodded at Liam and sat down next to Chakotay. "I have ten thousand things to fix after the invasion attempt. Why are we waiting for her?"

 

"Uh, because she's the new CINC." Liam went still when all of them turned to him. "What? You think I'm not plugged in. She's the only one in the brass who wasn't here for the Dominion War and the changelings. It makes total sense."

 

"Yes, it does, Shaw," Kathryn said as she rose from her desk and took the chair at the head of the table. "And we are here to talk about the engineering challenges."

 

B'Elanna and Chakotay nodded.

 

"But before we do that, I wanted to give you the courtesy of several heads up: we're changing the name of your ship and you're not captain of it anymore."

 

Seven stared at her in horror. This was not how you treated someone who died for the goddamned cause.

 

But Liam wasn't frowning. Instead he just tilted his head toward Seven and asked, "Is she captain, then?"

 

Kathryn nodded. "Do you want to know what the ship's new name will be."

 

"If it's the Picard, I'm going to throw up, so back on up, you two."

 

They laughed and Kathryn said, "God, no. It's the next Enterprise. And I have a choice for you to make, Captain. You can be promoted to Commodore and be assigned to B'Elanna's staff or—"

 

"Second choice." Then he looked at B'Elanna. "No offense intended."

 

She winked at him. "None taken. But you don't even know what the second choice is."

 

"Stay a captain and follow in the footsteps of my heroes? Other than you, Admiral Torres, because you're one too. That's what you're going to offer me, right, Admiral Janeway? Chief Engineer on the motherfucking Enterprise?"

 

"What do you say, Seven?" Kathryn grinned at her. "You want this lowlife as your new chief engineer?"

 

"I very much want him for that."

 

"Moment of silence for Ramallex, while we're at it." Liam shook his head, and Seven knew it was more at the loss of engineering talent than any true affection. He and the Portashian had never seemed close. "We lost so many engineers during the invasion."

 

"Yes, we did. And that's why you're both here. Your ship is being refitted and it's going to take a while since Space Dock is a mess. So in the meantime, you will be working for B'Elanna in engineering, helping to get facilities and fleet back to working order."

 

"We get to work together on engineering shit? Honey, it's one of our fantasies." He gave her the sappiest smile, and she smiled back in what she was afraid was the same way.

 

"Well, I'm glad to see it's 'get to' and not 'have to.' Please let that be all I hear about your fantasies though." Kathryn smiled at them. "I'm glad you two got everything sorted out."

 

"I don't intend to not be with him. Just so that's clear." Seven met Kathryn's eyes and would not look away.

 

"Yeah, what my captain said, Admiral." He leaned back. "This is a great fucking day."

 

"This is a new look for you," Kathryn said. "Very light and happy. I'm not sure I know what to do with that Liam Shaw."

 

"I shed a lot of baggage working with Picard. I still don't know that I like him, but at least he's not my bogeyman any longer."

 

"Well, you don't have to like him. And that's from the incoming CINC." She winked at him. "But we do owe him our lives. And you two as well. Thank you. And I'm glad you survived in one piece."

 

Seven had to work very hard not to meet Liam's eyes on that one. No one besides her, Ohk, and Raffi needed to know what steps they took to bring Liam back.

 

Although she didn't think Kathryn would berate her for it even if she did find out.

 

##

 

Captain Liam Shaw: Personal Log

 

I'm going to be chief engineer on the Enterprise.

 

Fuck me I love the sound of that.

 

And I'll be with Seven. Working for her. In a job that won't suck the life out of me.

 

I love the sound of that even more.

 

End log.

 

##

 

They walked back to the transporter room slowly, not holding hands but standing so close to each other they might as well have been. She didn't care if anyone noticed, though. She was happy. Finally. And she was going to enjoy it.

 

"Do you think," he asked, "that you might want to come back to our shuttle now?

 

She smiled but asked, "Our shuttle?"

 

"It's been our shuttle since the day you first walked inside, Seven. Don't you know that?"

 

"Too bad I destroyed the capacitor."

 

"Oh, like you didn't keep schematics for every single version." He laughed at her expression.

 

"Doesn't mean I'll make you a new one."

 

"You'll make us a new one or there will be no kisses for you."

 

"Well, when you put it that way..."

 

They turned into the transporter room and waited in line for their beam back to Titan. Once they were safely in the corridor outside the transporter room, she said, "I'm off duty as of five minutes ago."

 

"And I don't need an infusion until tomorrow afternoon."

 

"Well, goodnight then. Enjoy your evening." She turned and walked away, laughing as he caught up with her, as he pulled her to him and kissed her in the corridor.

 

A nearly empty corridor, but still, quite the gesture from a man so normally by the book.

 

He took her hand and led her to the lift, and then she led him to his quarters, which would soon be her quarters and she hoped their quarters. Even if he'd need a room of his own just to be able to decompress.

 

And resonance or not, sappy love or not, there was no way they weren't going to get into some monster arguments.

 

He palmed them in and then pulled her to him as soon as the doors closed. "It's been so busy for you. No time for this."

 

"Plus you were in sickbay for observation."

 

"Plus that. But Ohk cleared me for sex."

 

"In those words?"

 

"Yep." His grin was wicked. "She seems to be quite the fan of you and me. You're keeping her on, right?"

 

"Of course I'm keeping her on. I like knowing how to influence the grapevine."

 

"Yeah, she's great for that." He nuzzled her neck. "When you going to have her let everyone know we're together?"

 

"I'm going to leave that to her. I hate to micromanage."

 

He grinned and pushed her back to the bed. "The last time we did this, it was fucking amazing but it was dark and bitter and not what I want for us."

 

"So we'll never go back there again?"

 

"I did not say that." He laughed. "I don't feel a burning need to mark Wolf 359 anymore though. So maybe we can find some other date. Maybe the day you walked into my life."

 

"I like that."

 

His look grew serious. "The thing you said to me that bothered me the most was in the shuttle. When you said you'd thought you'd found a safe place to land. And then...it wasn't. I don't want you to have to look for that anymore. I don't just mean as a lover. I mean as your chief engineer. I want you to feel safe with me. So...I kind of forced your hand with the position and if you don't want that then just say—"

 

"You're an idiot. Of course I want that." She began to take his uniform off. "I want that so much for so many reasons." She held her arms up as he pulled off her top. "I want you to get to know Raffi, too. She was instrumental in helping me make sure you—your body was safe."

 

"And hey, she was on a deep cover thing. So you're not an annoying ex."

 

Her cackle came out and she sighed. "You and your fucking humor."

 

"Speaking of fucking." He pushed her against the wall and began to finger her, all the while holding eye contact, his smile sweet but mischievous. "I want to watch you come. It's one of my favorite things you do."

 

"It's one of my favorite things I do too." She would have said more snarky things but she could feel herself going, and he was holding her up as she cried out.

 

He smoothed back her hair. "I love you, Seven of Nine."

 

"I love you too, Liam Shaw. Now," she asked, circling him with her hand and making him moan, "how do you want me?"

 

"You're the captain, Hansen." He winked at her. "Your tell me."

 

 

FIN