DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters
are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The story contents are
the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2023 by Djinn. This
story is Rated R.
You Complete the Heart of Me
by Djinn
Seven
stood at the Eradication Day podium as Agnes frantically worked from her
laboratory to get a lock on them. Picard held his phaser up to the Queen, not
moving the way the crowd wanted him to do and as her...husband behind her
started to mutter.
Then
Picard was firing and he acted as if she should fight too but with what? She
didn't have a phaser. She had high heels and an uncomfortable suit.
And
then there was the tingling of the transporter, and she saw Picard and the
Queen whisked away.
But
something on her fought back against the transporter lock, as her friends
escaped and she...she was left.
"Seven!"
She could hear the panic in Raffi's voice.
"Go,"
she whispered. "Get this done. Set it to right and I'll be back there when
you finish."
"You
don't know that. Time travel isn't an exact science and you might be stuck here
until here doesn't exist anymore," Agnes said.
"Not
helping, Jurati." Raffi sounded beyond pissed.
"Send me back there."
"No,"
Seven said. "Just go. I need to find a way to survive here until you get
the universe put to right."
Her
husband—holy shit why hadn't she bothered to look up his name—rushed to her.
"Your personal transporter inhibitor worked."
He
had a look of pride. Of satisfaction. Even of "I told you so."
She
took a risk and gave him the most grateful smile she could muster. "I'm
glad I followed your advice."
He
looked at her in surprise.
"I
can admit when I'm wrong. Not my preference but..."
He
laughed and she relaxed.
"What
will they do with a Borg Queen?" she asked as if she didn't know but she
wanted him focused on her, not on her friends.
"A
very good question."
"And
Picard. A traitor?" She pulled every bit of disdain she'd ever seen
Kathryn wear. Every bit of disappointment.
"We
will find him. And you will kill him."
"And
I will enjoy that. In the meantime, let me reassure the people." She had
to buy the rest of them time.
Pulling
her jacket down the way she'd seen Picard do more than once, she turned back to
the podium. "The Confederation endures. The work of a traitor will not
change that."
There
were only mild cheers. She had to think: if she were an evil version of
herself, what would she say? She allowed a smile to play on her face.
"Picard will pay with his own blood for this insult to all of us. To
everything we are. There is nowhere to hide." Except the past, a place she
hoped he and the others were already headed to.
The
crowd seemed to like that better.
She
had to get them still more engaged, though, and get her husband and his men
distracted. "And one of you will stand beside me and pull the trigger when
we capture him. Who steps up? Who will help me put down the traitor
Picard?"
The
crowd rushed the platform and her husband pulled her back and said, "What
in hell are you doing?"
"Saving
face."
"By
creating an angry mob."
"We
already had an angry mob. I'm just making sure they don't turn on us."
He
muttered something that sounded vaguely like surrender.
"I've
located the ship," a guard with a tricorder yelled, and she felt her
stomach drop—she'd just offered up Picard to this mob of crazies.
But
then he looked confused. "Now...it's just gone."
"Cloaked?"
her husband asked.
"No.
I can screen for that. They were headed to the sun and then they...winked
out."
"I
suggest," a new voice sounded from the back of the stage, "that I get
the president to her safe room while you do damage control."
"Thank
you, Captain Shaw." Her husband eased her around.
She
saw a tall man in military uniform, human, bearded and gesturing for her to
join him.
She
walked toward him, her voice as haughty as she could
make it. "Shaw, let's get going." She would have to figure out a way
to incapacitate him before they got to the safe room.
But
he was so...solid. He clearly worked out. And she felt very...human at the
moment.
He
seemed unwilling to walk ahead of her, kept to her side instead. "Nice
night for a moonlit stroll."
"Not
really."
He
pushed her into a side corridor and slammed her against the wall. Normally she
could have pushed him off easily, but normally she was part Borg. "My
Annika Hansen would have known the proper response to that."
He
had his forearm resting across her throat, pushing in, making it difficult to
breathe if she moved. "What did Gordon do to you? Or is this your own
choice?"
"Who
the fuck is Gordon?"
He
frowned. "Gordon, your husband Gordon and since when do you fucking swear?
You told me there are no swear words in Swedish."
"That's
not true." She remembered some Swedish but not the way she should. Not the
way an assimilated version of her would: fluently. All that Borg knowledge—all
the languages she understood—seemed lost unless it had to do with her direct
life experience.
This
was so confusing.
"Did
I learn Swedish from my parents? Are they famous?" She met his eyes and
saw only anger-tinged confusion in his. "Were they assimilated?"
"No.
They were the ones who got us the information about the Borg that allowed us to
destroy them. They're the reason you're president. Well, and you're easy on the
eyes and brilliant and way too good at whipping up a crowd."
He
looked ready to kill her so she said, "The trauma..."
"Trauma
my ass. You've been through way worse than that. Who the fuck are you?"
She
sighed. "I'm not your Annika."
"Like
I fucking said."
"I
know. But I am Annika Hansen. I don't understand why I'm even here." She
relaxed against the wall to take some of the pressure of his arm off her.
To
the side a familiar voice sounded. "What caused the change in plan? And
why do you have the 'president' against the wall?"
"Tuvok. Thank goodness you're here."
Shaw
eased up on her throat and looked at Tuvok in
confusion. "My Annika and Tuvok have never
met."
For
operational security, no doubt. And because Tuvok,
being non-human, would be in particular danger in this hellscape of a reality.
"He and I served together. In my reality. Tuvok,
you're Vulcan and your wife is T'Pel and you play kal-toh. And you have children—"
Shaw's
arm was back against her throat, his other hand tangled in her hair pulling it
back painfully. "Do not speak of his children."
"I'm
sorry. I meant no disrespect," she said, trying to get her leg up to knee
him in the groin because he was hurting her, but he was standing too close.
"Liam,
let her go." Tuvok moved to her. "There is
no occasion I can imagine our Annika trying to knee you, well, there."
"Yes.
Tuvok, we're logical creatures you and I. Meld with
me and find out I'm not lying."
"You
know of the meld?" His eyebrow went up precipitously.
"You've
done it before. To help me. You'll see that."
Shaw
shook his head. "Meld later. Whoever the fuck she is, we need to transport
out of here before Gordon realizes she's not in the safe room and that I'm not
guarding the door. Our cover's blown to shit thanks to you." He glared at
her.
"Hey,
you could have left me on the podium instead of yanking me out of there. In
fact, it would have been the smarter thing to do."
"She
is not wrong, Liam."
"Fuck
that. Beam back now. Discuss my motives later."
Tuvok activated a communicator and started to
call for beam-out but she said, "No, there's a transport inhibitor on me.
I don't know where."
"I
can fix that." Shaw pulled a knife out and cut her clothing off her.
"And
now I'm naked."
"Kick
off your shoes."
She
did. "And barefoot. And it's cold what with the being naked part. You
really think the inhibitor is in my underwear? Or are you just in the mood for
a peep show?"
"Nothing
I haven't seen before, Annika." He nodded at Tuvok.
"If this doesn't work, the inhibitor's in her
blood and that's going to get real problematic."
"Asshole."
"Bitch."
"You
two please..." Tuvok called for transport and
she felt the tingle of the transporter, but this time she went with it. And
ended up in the empty corner of a room filled with people working on terminals.
All of whom looked up but seemed entirely unconcerned at a naked president
beaming into their midst.
What
the fuck was this reality? She just wanted to be with Raffi and the others—that
was the only place that felt like home.
Until
Shaw surprised her by pulling off his jacket and wrapping it around her.
"Thanks."
"You're
welcome." His eyes met hers, then he looked away as if burned. "Let's
find a quieter place to do the meld."
He
was gentler with her now and he glanced back as she rubbed her neck. "I've
got a regenerator in there too."
"It's
probably fine."
"Let's
not leave it to chance. Provided you check out with Tuvok.
If not, I'm going to use my knife on your skin this time."
"Wow,
you're a dick, Shaw."
He
laughed. "That actually sounded just like my Annika." Opening a door,
he led her and Tuvok into a bedroom.
She
sat on the edge of the bed and Tuvok sat next to her.
Before he brought his hand up to her face, he said, "This will not
hurt."
"I
know. I told you: we've done this before."
"We
have not, though."
"Look
and see." She pulled his fingers to the meld points. "Would your
world's Annika know where they go?"
"She
would not." He frowned slightly as he initiated the meld. "And you
have...pathways. Created by...me but not me." He spent a bit more time
gently doing something in her mind and then eased out. "She is not from
our reality."
"I'm
from a better one."
"Indeed.
We were colleagues. Not autocratic president and escaped slave."
"And
what was I?" Shaw asked as he ran a regenerator over her throat.
"If
you are there, she does not know you."
His
face fell in a way that touched her. He actually really loved the Annika of
this world.
"So if she's here, where the hell is our Annika?" Shaw
asked, pacing.
"I
do not know," Tuvok said. "But if her
friends succeed in their mission to restore a world that is better, we will
cease to exist." Tuvok looked at Shaw. "We
need to get her out of the city, keep her safe until reality shifts so she has
the chance to get back to hers."
She
sat back up. "I'm sure you saw there was debate over whether or not I'll
return when they do. If you're concerned with keeping me safe, do you believe I
can get back?"
"It
would stand to reason, especially with the X factor of an omnipotent being
causing all of this."
"But
where the fuck is our Annika?" Shaw was beginning to look super pissed.
"She's
existed a day at best," Seven said in frustration. "Any of you."
"From
your perspective, yes," Tuvok said, his voice
less patient then her own would have been. "Or we have existed since the
point of divergence, in the twenty-first century. Which means—"
"You've
led complete lives. From your perspective."
Tuvok nodded. "And our Annika Hansen
is...gone. Replaced by you." He turned to Shaw. "I grieve with
thee."
"She's
not fucking dead. She's just..." He looked at her as if she'd done the
deed herself. "She can't be dead."
Tuvok's voice was very gentle. "It is the
most logical answer. This Annika Hansen displaced her."
"I
didn't mean to." She looked at Tuvok.
"Displaced isn't dead. She might return if I get back to my people."
She frowned to let him know she fully understood if she were to get back to her
people, this entire reality would probably cease to exist.
"So you think I'll get a romantic second with my wife before
we're unmade? Is that what you're saying?" Shaw just shook his head.
"My wife who I haven't held in my arms in months. My wife who sent me to
fucking China for a year to get me out of the way when she first was
elected."
She
suddenly understood why he referred to her "husband" the way he did,
as if Gordon weren't.
"You
were needed there," Tuvok said. "I helped
make that decision."
"She
was fucking Gordon while I was in China. For a goddamn year and then...now. As
his wife."
"She
has been intimate with him far longer than that, Liam.
She had to attract him. He was her assignment. Or part of it. She was prepared
to do it."
"What
if she liked it—liked him?" He kicked a boot into the wall.
Not
hard enough, she noted, to damage the wall though. He had self
control even when hurt and grieving.
"I
spent some time with my—her—the original Annika's husband. I doubt seriously
when given the choice between you and him, she would choose him. Unless you are
a dismal bed partner."
"Which
I'm not."
"There
you go."
Shaw
looked at Tuvok, his eyes welling. "She was
distant the last few times I talked to her, though."
Tuvok actually sighed. "We do not know
that she..."
"Switched
sides," Seven said softly. "You think she was going to betray
you?"
"We
were not sure but have been taking steps to distance ourselves from any
location she knew. There is a chance that our Annika grew too fond of being
president. Was there any indication in the speech you were given that she was
going to say the words, 'Let this day never come again'?"
"No,
but that doesn't mean she couldn't have just inserted it when she felt it was
right."
Shaw
glared at her.
"Seriously.
It's what I would have done. Also, if I were her, I'd have rounded you all up
quietly if I'd really changed sides. And killed you as the pre-show before the
Borg Queen."
"Jesus."
Shaw laughed though. "That is what she'd have done, though."
"But
how much," Tuvok said very softly to her,
"is because you are like her instinctively and how much is because of the
life you led? The things you went through?"
"This
is all scintillating, but we have to get her out of the city," Shaw said
from where he stood at the window. "Are you coming with us, Tuvok?"
"No.
I am going to formulate a way that, in case this Annika is stuck here, we can
use her to our advantage."
"Trust
you to try to find the silver lining even when we're caught in a fucking
shitstorm." He began to go through his closet. "She left some clothes
here." He motioned her over. "Take what you need."
"Underwear
would be a good start."
"Sorry
about that."
"No,
you're not. You enjoyed cutting everything off me." She touched her hair,
running her hand down her waves. "I'm surprised I still have hair
left."
"I
love your—her hair. Fuck, pronouns are a bitch." He turned and opened a
drawer on a dresser. "Here you go."
He
and Tuvok both turned their backs and she found what
she needed in the drawer and pulled it on, then stared at the clothes in the
closet unsure what to pick. "What colors won't stand out here?"
"Browns.
Tans. No gray or black or red. Too military." Shaw walked over and seemed
to touch her back without thinking, then said, "Shit, I'm sorry."
"It's
okay." She and Raffi were in one of their off again phases when the
mission started, and it had been a while since anyone touched her.
And
his hand felt good.
He
quickly handed her a pair of brown pants and a beige t-shirt along with a brown
leather jacket. "There are socks in the drawer underneath the one with the
underwear."
As
she went to it and grabbed a pair to put on, he tossed her a pair of low heeled tan boots.
He
studied her. "That hair...much as I love it, is a problem when you're
going to be deemed officially missing." He walked to the side of the
elaborate headboard and pushed on a combination of areas, and a large drawer
slid out. It was full of wigs. He found a brunette one that would hit at her
shoulders and grabbed a hair tie. "You know how to put one of these
on?"
"Yes."
She'd done it a lot when she was a ranger. She took the hair tie and quickly
got her own hair skinned tight and up in a bun, then pulled the wig on top.
With
a smile, he adjusted it and said, "Looks good on you. Can you do
contacts?"
"Not
easily. The ocular implant—" She laughed—when would she stop thinking of
herself as Borg? "Umm, actually, sure."
As
Liam left the room apparently to get the contacts, she looked over at Tuvok and smiled. "A lot of things are different. I
used to be as strong as you."
"The
Borg were a fearsome foe. Many of my people were assimilated, used as the first
line of defense and then destroyed once they had served their purpose. My wife
and children were among them."
"I'm
so sorry."
"It
is why I resist. Or one of the reasons."
She
nodded understanding as Shaw came back in. He had a pair of dark brown contacts
and gently put them in her eyes after disinfecting his hands.
For
a moment, all she could feel was foreign bodies in her eyes, but he put some
drops on top of them and her eyes felt normal. "Close your eyes for a few
minutes to allow the contacts to absorb all the gel."
She
heard him doing something in the bathroom, the sound of a small machine of some
kind. When she opened her eyes, he was back with her but his eyes were brown
like hers and he'd shaved off his beard.
"There's
a color discrepancy where the beard was."
"I
know. Can you...?" He handed her some make-up. "Let me get changed
out of this uniform first."
He
didn't seem to care if she was watching as he changed into dull-colored clothes
that resembled what she'd seen in the crowd. His body was anything but dull and
she forced herself to stop looking and focus on the floor.
He
laughed as he moved back to her and tipped her chin up. "Too heinous to
look at for long?"
"Right."
She rolled her eyes as she smoothed a small amount of foundation on his face.
"I liked the beard."
"I
did too. Made me stand out because I looked so dashing." He laughed in a
gently self-mocking way. "Time to not stand out if we want to get you out
of the city."
"Thank
you. I know you don't have to."
"If
Tuvok believes you, then I believe you. He's never
steered me wrong."
"Me
neither. And I look like her so you..."
"Yeah.
You do and I do and let's not talk about that."
"Okay."
She smiled as she blended the edges. "There, can't even tell. I miss your
real eye color though." But she knew they were way too striking a color to
not be noticed.
"Right
back at you." He swung a bag over his shoulder. "Last step and it's gonna hurt like fuck. but I'll go first." He injected
something into the top of his hand, and then did the same for her.
Searing
pain that started in her hand but began to shoot all over her body was all she
knew as she sank back down on the bed and breathed through it. "Genetic
modification?"
"We
can't have you coming up as Annika Hansen on the ID checks. Or me as Liam
Shaw."
Tuvok walked over with a scanner and checked
them both. "John Carter and Tara McMasters. Be careful."
Shaw
handed her a padd with info on her new self that she quickly memorized. Then he
gave the padd to Tuvok. "Be careful yourself,
old friend."
Tuvok met her eyes. "I hope your friends
succeed. And if they do, I hope you are reunited with them."
"Thank
you. For risking..."
"There
is no risk. If called to, we were prepared to die today to fan the flames of
rebellion."
"Still..."
She tried to put everything she felt for him in a look.
"Understood."
"Let's
go," Shaw said. "While they might still think you're in the safe
room." He led her away from the big room they'd beamed into and down
several sets of stairs into what seemed to be a tunnel running under the city.
"I
don't remember this being here. Then again, I didn't really spend much time in
San Francisco." Only long enough for Starfleet to tell her "Oh, hell
no."
And
Raffi had wanted her to settle here with her and Elnor.
During one of their on again periods.
Shit,
she suddenly missed Raffi so fucking much. Was it her fault that she could
never find it in her heart to fully commit? Stay with her?
And
would she be missing her this much if she didn't feel so off balance? This was
another reason she stayed away; she thought it was unfair to use her when she
was off her game and then leave again when she was back on. Raffi deserved
better.
"We
won't be in these tunnels for long. Just need to get to the transit
station."
"Tunnels
don't bother me. But I have no money."
"Got
you covered." He grinned. "I'm actually good at this."
"I'm
getting that." She thought of all the times she'd gone undercover as a
ranger. "I am too, although not probably at your level."
"How
many languages do you speak?"
"All
of them. Well, all that the B—" But that wasn't true anymore.
"Fuck."
"Your
mouth is as bad as mine. My Annika wasn't that way." He laughed. "So basically just Standard and some Swedish."
"Maybe
some Spanish." From when she'd merged the holograms on La Sirena and had
spent an extended time listening to that language.
"Let's
just stick to Standard. I don't speak either of those."
"Standard
will make us stand out less?"
"If
there's a God."
"There
is no proof there is one."
"Don't
fucking say that. It's like you're tempting the universe to prove there is one
and he's pissed at us."
"That
may be accurate. Given who sent me here. He is...god like."
He
stopped in front of a stairwell. "This is it. You ready Tara
McMasters?"
"Ready
John Carter."
The
climb was long but they were both in good shape. They were barely breathing
hard by the end. He stood at the door and said, "This opens onto an alley.
We go left, then left again out of the alley. The transit station is on the
right. Do not—and I mean not—panic at the number of guards there will be.
That's normal on a good day and Eradication Day with a snafu is far from
that."
"Okay."
"We'll
pass the genetic tests until the injection wears off, but facial recognition is
still a problem. You can game it though. Keep your—"
"Face
down but not obviously so, no staring at the ground, move around so you look
natural, and laugh. Most facial recognition programs learn from images with
serious expressions not the distortion that comes when we are laughing."
"Right."
He cocked his head. "You're more street smart than she is."
"Yeah,
well, I was never a president. Far from it. And my parents weren't famous. They
were idiots."
He
looked surprised at her tone.
"Can
we go?"
"Yeah,
sure." He opened the door a tiny bit. The alley was clear so she followed
him out, and then to the street.
She
was glad he'd warned her of the guards. He took her hand, probably so he
wouldn't lose her in the press of the crowd, but it felt good.
"You're
really nervous," he murmured. "Your hands are sweaty."
"Sorry."
"No
worries." Someone near them was passing around a joint and he took it,
taking a long toke, then passed it to her and wordlessly told her to take some
too, which she did then passed it to the first person who reached for it.
She
thought he expected her to cough some like some rank newbie. This was one way Rangers passed the time. Cannabis was part of the
monthly pay. She usually saved hers for using as payment with snitches but
sometimes, when she got too lonely, she used it.
And
now it was bringing down a heart that was racing in a way it never would have
when she was part Borg.
He
pulled her closer, his arm around her. "Old pro at that, I see."
"You
too." She wrapped her arm around his waist. "Fuck, this is
insanity."
"Nope,
just the transit after a presidential extravaganza."
"Gone
bad." She could see the flitter-train up ahead.
"Shit,"
he said, and she saw a group of guards looking their way.
She'd
always found the best way to hide was to do it in plain sight so she let go of
his waist and grabbed his hand instead, pulling it over his head and began to
dance. "Follow my lead," she said as she turned to the person next to
her and grabbed her hand.
The
woman did the same to the guy she was with and he grabbed someone else and soon
there was a group of them dancing into the station. She let go of the woman and
pulled Shaw into an embrace, then once the dancers were far enough ahead and
the guards far enough behind, started walking normally again.
"Uhhh, that was awesome."
"Just
doing my part."
He
pulled her closer, still walking with his mouth close to hers as he said,
"You're part is awesome." Then he started to
laugh. "I think our pot was laced with blue dust."
"I
have no idea what that is." But as soon as she said that, she had an
almost irresistible urge to kiss him. "Oh. That kind of blue." She
moved even closer, snaking herself around him as they got closer to the train.
"Maybe we won't stand out at all if we're clearly into each other."
"The
'kiss so we look like we're involved and not doing something wrong' is the
oldest trick in the book."
"So you're by the book?"
"Procedures,
safety protocols—they keep an organization like we have safe." His lips
were on hers as he talked, and she pulled him the rest of the way to her.
He
might be into rules and regs but he was one hell of a kisser.
"Get
a room, you two," someone yelled as they were pushed into the car and
found their way to the back, never letting go of each other.
"What
stop do we get off at?" she asked since she had the better view of the
route map.
"East
Fortune."
"Quite
a ways from here."
"Thank
God for that." And he pushed her harder against the wall and kissed her in
a way that told her he'd been holding back before.
She
knew he wasn't thinking of her but when he moaned, "Annika," she
whapped him gently. "Tara, remember. Or call me Seven. It's a cool
nickname, right?" Only would Gordon remember that name? Agnes had
certainly been memorable in her weirdness.
"Seven,"
he moaned and went back to kissing her.
She
liked the sound of him saying her name so much she decided not to worry. She
sank into his kiss and tried to think of Raffi the way she had when she'd heard
the door open in the presidential suite, someone coming in. Raffi would be
worried no doubt for her, giving everyone shit about leaving her. It only
seemed fair to think of her while he was kissing her thinking of his person.
But
she wasn't sure she'd be doing it if he didn't already have an Annika Hansen of
his very own.
And
this was why she and Raffi were so on again/off again. Because Raffi felt like
Seven was the one, wanted to settle down, settle in. Wanted Seven to share her
thoughts and her desires and well, everything.
And
no matter how hard she tired, Seven felt something
inside her pushing back.
Was
she fundamentally incapable of committing after being freed from the ultimate—and
non-consensual—commitment with the Borg?
Or
was Raffi just not the one?
And
why did this guy feel so much like he might be? That was madness—he was in love
with her doppelgänger, not her. If he made her feel good, it wasn't her he was
doing it to. Not in his mind, anyway.
"Where's
your head?" He pulled away and studied her. "Or is the dust wearing
off on you already?"
"It's
not. I have a person too. But...it's potentially as confusing as yours may be
to you."
"Mine
didn't used to be confusing. I loved her. She loved me. But then she sent me
away. And she's cold now. So fucking cold." He
ran his hand down her cheek. "You're not."
"No,
I'm not. But...this isn't the real me." She touched over her eyebrow—still
so weird not to feel the implant there, not to notice the slight pull when she
frowned. "I feel free."
"You
are. And I'm going to keep you that way." He went in for a quick kiss,
sweet like a promise. Then he just held her close and let her watch the map as
he nuzzled her neck.
It
felt so damn good.
##
Once
they got off the train in East Fortune, they doubled- and tripled-backed more
than once to make sure no one was following them.
Finally,
he palmed them into what looked like just businesses and led them down several
flights of stairs to the sub basement.
The
hallway was lined with doors and he opened the last one.
"No
easy out here," she said.
"Nope.
No easy in for people coming after us either." But something in his voice
was off.
He
liked tunnels. She'd wager this place had access to one. No way he'd stay in a
room with no escape route. She kept that thought to herself though.
The
space was clean and set up like a studio apartment. There were multiple stasis
units and she glanced into one expecting food but saw medicine of some type.
Vials and vials of it. She saw the drawers were labeled with medical things and
that there were several fold-up cots hanging on the wall as well as folding
chairs. "This is some kind of field hospital."
"It
pulls double duty. It's far enough out that we're not crossing cameras every
five minutes but close enough in that everyone doesn't know everyone
else."
"Logical."
"We
do have food in this one." He patted an upright stasis unit. "Cold
beverages." He opened a wall cabinet. "Hooch and the stuff that's
shelf stable. You hungry?"
"No."
Between the blue dust that seemed to be getting stronger instead of wearing
off, and feeling overwhelmed by what was happening, she was anything but
hungry.
"Yeah,
me either." He shook out his arms and rolled his shoulders. "I don't
know why I had to take a toke."
"I
didn't hesitate either. We were blending. And honestly, I really was nervous—it
helped me calm down and not call attention to us."
"Way
to rationalize. So how long do you figure your people will need to do whatever
it is they're going to do?"
"It's
time travel. Not an exact science." And they didn't necessarily know what
the inciting incident for everything to go to shit was.
"Ballpark
it for me. A day? A week? A month?"
She
shrugged. But when he seemed about to say something, she held her hand up and
said, "I think if it's not fixed in a week, it's not going to be
fixed." She wasn't sure why she thought that, but given the skills Picard
had at his disposal through the people he had with him, what the Queen might
do, and with Q added in, she couldn't see this taking longer.
He
stretched out on the bed. "I'm trying to figure out if we need to cut and
color your hair or not. If we stay here the whole time, then no. The wig's
enough. But if not..."
"Can
we wait? See what happens?"
"It's
fine with me. I love your—her hair." He sighed. "The completely
pathetic thing is that I think, even if she was still on our side, which I'm
not sure of now, we were over. She'd moved on."
"You
don't know that."
"Gordon
didn't do anything to make you think you two were super close?"
"Kind
of the opposite. And no one on the staff made any kind of overture that might
lead me to think she was having an affair."
"What
if the affair she was having was with herself? With...power? The chance to come
out of her parents' shadow and be the one that counted?" He sighed and
pulled out a padd from his pocket, picking a piece of classical music that rang
out softly—and was very familiar.
"Oh.
She had this as the music she got ready to. It came on automatically with the
morning greeting. Maybe she did that to remind herself of you because it's your
favorite...?"
"Yeah,
no. I have it on my padd because it's her favorite." He laughed, a soft
puff of air, a bitter sound that made her feel bad for him. "And still I want to fuck her—I mean you, in her body—your body.
Fuck."
She
slipped off her jacket and put it on the coatrack behind the door, then pulled
the wig off and set it on one of the bureaus. She undid her hair and let it
fall around her. "It sounded like it's been a long time since you were
with her."
He
didn't take his eyes off her as he nodded.
"My
girl—it's been a while for us too. And the dust is making me..."
"Yeah,
it's not giving up without a fight."
She
crawled onto the bed. "Or at least without a fuck." She lay on her
side watching him. "If you want to, I mean?"
"Oh,
I want to."
"You
don't have to think of me when you..."
"That's
really nice of you, Seven."
"You
can call me Annika, too. Least I can do for you given how you're helping
me." She felt like a cat in heat and barely held herself back from rubbing
on the covers. "Also I really fucking need
this."
"And
it's not like we've got a packed schedule other than lying low."
"We've
got the lying down part covered." She rolled to her back and he followed
her, kissing her, then easing off her clothing and his own.
He
was about to press into her when he stopped and asked, "You said girl.
Have you been with a guy before?"
She
loved that he asked. That he cared he might hurt her. "I have. Thank you
for worrying about that. And if it helps, I'm super ready for you."
"Music
to my ears." He pushed inside, one long thrust and she gasped. He felt so
fucking good inside her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist and moaned
as he began to move.
She
saw uncertainty fill his eyes and said, "I won't talk. Just close your
eyes and pretend I'm her. It's okay."
And
he did close his eyes, but she didn't. She watched his face until she couldn't
anymore because she was coming, hard and fast and raking his back with her
nails.
With
the nails on her left hand too—not the implant that she'd have had to worry
might actually really hurt him.
He
was smiling at her, kissed her gently in a way that left her unsure who he
thought he was with, then he closed his eyes and got back to it, going harder
at her urging, coming loudly.
He
collapsed against her and she kept her grip on him with her legs, unwilling to
let him go just yet. To not be with him.
"Aren't
I heavy?" he whispered in her ear.
He
felt heavier than she thought he would have if she'd still been ex-Borg but not
too heavy. "I like it." She ran her nails lightly down his back,
touching just for a moment, then pulling them back up, and felt him shiver.
"Not good?"
"Oh,
so good. My Annika—she isn't big on..."
"The
after part?"
He
nodded.
"The
cuddling and stroking and grooming that serve to bond a couple."
His
smile seemed hurt. "That's how she used to put it. As if understanding
what it was designed for made it something to not be done." He stroked her
hair off her face. "I think I was always the one who loved more. Even
before we realized the role she could play. And I call her my wife but the
marriage wasn't valid. It was officiated by someone who wasn't an ordained
minister or justice of the peace in some vain attempt to make me feel better
about letting her go, about her seducing Gordon."
"Why
him?"
"He's
a kingmaker."
"I
haven't spent enough time in traditional organizations to understand what that
really means."
"He
was friends with everyone—or had something on them. Same difference in
politics. He saw the daughter of two of our greatest heroes and ran with it—and
her." He was clearly trying to get off her so she let him. He rolled to
his back and stared up at the ceiling. "Do you think he slept in her
bed?"
"Do
you want lies or the truth?"
"Couldn't
you just say no? Fuck."
"He
was gone when I woke. But it was clear someone had shared the bed with me. And
he came in as if it was his room too." Also called her "his
love" but she would leave that out for Shaw's sake.
"I
fucking just cheated on her."
"Well,
technically—"
"No,
no 'well technically.'" He got off the bed and began to pace. "I've
gone all this time with her being with him and never, ever... And then you show
up and..."
"There
was the dust."
"Yeah,
thanks. I could have taken a cold shower to get over that. I wanted to fuck
you. I still do."
She
was relieved to hear it. The first orgasm had taken some of the urgency off but
not all. But she wasn't sure if she should even broach it.
He
was mourning a woman who looked just like her, who might not be in love with
him any more, and who might even have been planning
on betraying him.
"Maybe
I'll take the cold shower." She started to get up.
He
stalked back. "Don't you dare. I mean unless you want to—that sounded
super aggressive on my part."
She
pulled him back down to the bed, to lie next to her, to let her stroke his
chest and watch him relax just a little under her touch. "This is
confusing. You know me. I don't know you. But I'm starting to. I think you're a
good man, Liam Shaw."
"My
Annika cared more if someone were useful or connected, not good."
"Then
maybe let's let her be the only Annika, not 'your' Annika. And I'll just be
Seven?"
"That
would probably be less confusing. But it makes it worse that I'm cheating on
her with Seven and not another Annika."
"You
seem like a man that can handle ambiguity—and complicated situations—quite
deftly." She kissed her way down his body. "I can also handle those
things"—she encircled him tightly and began to move her hand—"as well
as others quite well."
"Fuck.
Me. If you put your mouth on me, I'm gone."
"Let's
test that theory." She took him in, careful not to apply too much
pressure, controlling how much pleasure he was getting, how close he got.
"Do you want to come like this or inside me?"
"Whichever
you want."
"I
asked you first."
"I'm
trying to be polite here, Seven." He thrust up into her hand.
"So
am I, you jackass. Oh fine." And she took him back into her mouth and
finished him that way.
He
was not quiet.
As
he drew her back up to lie next to him, as he kissed her very sweetly, she
said, "I assume the soundproofing is excellent in here? There might be
screams from a field hospital."
"You
assume correctly. Which is good because I just made a hell of a lot of noise.
And 'Jackass'? Really?" He laughed and for the first time she felt as if
he was with her completely, that she wasn't a ghost of his version of her.
"Sorry.
Arguing you with you seems..."
"Natural.
Yeah."
"Did
you and she?"
"Not
really. But I was always trying to become indelibly written in her heart, you
know? Arguing seemed counterproductive."
"I
find it refreshing. I like someone who can hold their own with me."
"So
do I." He trailed his finger down her body. "I will return the favor
but right now I'm feeling very lazy so my fingers are going to have to
do."
"I
don't care how you get me there, so long as I arrive."
"Good
to know. Do you ever fake?"
"What
would be the point?"
He
dipped two fingers inside her, then eased them out, twirling them in just the
perfect place. "See that's what I think too. I mean if I think I got there
you doing this, for example."
"You
are."
"I
know but if I wasn't, and I thought I was because you let me think that, then
this would be one of my go-to moves."
"Exactly,
perpetuating the disappointment and dissatisfaction into infinity." She
was arching as he added more fingers to the mix. "Faking is counter
effective. I'd rather just say it's not there at the moment."
"Like
right now. Totally not there."
She
was clawing at the covers. "Absolutely not doing a goddamn thing for me.
You suck."
He
laughed as he took her the rest of the way, as she cried out as loudly as he
had.
She
rolled into him and he held her close and said, "I really like talking to
you."
"I
really like talking to you too."
"But
you're a shitty lover, Seven."
"Sadly so are you, Liam." She leaned back to judge his
expression and he was smiling very broadly. "Should I be calling you John
so I don't fuck up later when it matters?"
"I
guess, plus it will make it less her."
"You
realize you named yourself after a famous fictional character, right?"
"Duh.
But those two names are also two of the most common for men who look like
me."
"Good
point." She tried to assess if the dust had worn off any. "I'm still
horny."
"Yeah,
me too. That was damned good stuff."
"I'm
also getting hungry."
"That's
from the pot. Or possibly because you haven't eaten."
"I
had some coffee."
"I
am a shitty host then." He got up, pulled some fluffy white bathrobes out
of the closet and tossed her one then pulled the other on himself, then began
to assemble a plate for them. "You want water or booze?"
"Water,
I think. I don't want to mix."
"Good
call."
He
brought back the food and water bottles and they shared it in a companionable
silence but she knew he was studying her. "You're so like her but so
not."
She
touched over her eyebrow again, making sure the implant hadn't come back.
"Yeah, I'm different."
"Bad
scar or something?"
"Yeah,
or something." She didn't want to bring up the Borg when this Annika
hadn't been assimilated.
She
just wanted to enjoy not having his eyes stop at her eyebrow, at her cheek, at
her hand, and now that they were naked at all the other places
she had implants.
She
was gloriously free of them. "It feels really good. I was self-conscious
about it."
"You
don't have regenerators where you're from?"
"It
was a medically necessary device. Had to stay."
"Ah.
That's why you said that about the contacts." He studied her eyes.
"These dissolve in forty eight hours. I may see
those baby blues again, I guess."
"And
yours. Gray?"
"I'm
not sure. Usually I just say green. Gray sounds
pretentious."
She
laughed. "They're pretty whatever they are. But I hope I don't see
them." Except then...
He
fed her a piece of cheese. "Yeah, I know. Don't think about it. Except
your girl...? You don't really talk about her."
"She
wants a lot from me. More maybe than I can give. Or could, in my reality. Here...who knows what I can give?" She gave him the sweetest
smile she knew how. "She's a woman I'd trust at my back any time. I'd die
for her, she'd die for me. But...romantically..."
She sighed.
"Was
the sex not good?"
"It
was great. It was the other times, when I was expected to settle down."
"Ah."
He had a knowing look—like it was going to be her fault no matter how much she
explained it. And given his experience with this world's Annika, maybe it was
her fault.
But
knowing that and being a different type of person were two different things.
She
drank some water to avoid having to answer. He didn't press her once she put
the bottle back down.
##
They
were toweling off from a shower together—a very long shower together—and she
stood in front of the full length mirror on the back
of the bathroom door and just looked at her body.
He
came up behind her and pulled the towel away from her, dropping both it and his
on the floor, then he began to nuzzle her neck while watching her in the
mirror, touching her, all over.
Chakotay
used to do this and it made her massively uncomfortable. She would inevitably
distract him away from any mirrors.
But
now she just watched as his hands moved over her skin. "This body is so
beautiful."
"I've
always thought so." Then he frowned. "You said that like it was a new
thing. Did you have medically necessary devices other places than your
eye?"
"Yeah."
She turned and looked over her shoulder at her back. "Here too."
"Jesus.
What happened?"
"When
I was six, I was ass—" She couldn't tell him, not when the experience with
the Borg was so different here.
"Assaulted?"
He stopped moving, met her eyes in the mirror. "At six?"
"Not
like that. Not sexually." But hadn't it been sort of? Her reproductive
system had been removed. She'd had her emotions dulled by the inhibitor. She'd
been shut in a maturation chamber, the queen's voice the only company she had
until she'd fucking imprinted on it. "But yeah, they hurt me. This Annika
never lived through that."
He
pulled her close, not kissing, just holding her. "I'm sorry that happened
to you."
"Thank
you. Most people back where I'm from, they see the marks and implants, they see
the remnants of what was done to me and they hate me for it. They associate me
with the ones who did it."
"And
you want to go back to this reality?"
"Not
at the moment I don't." She grinned up at him, then slipped back to face
the mirror. She'd enjoy this while she could.
"My
Annika was uncomfortable with us doing this. The mirror had become an
enemy."
"Why?
Her body—my body, I mean."
"I
know. Pronoun hell. But yeah, her body—all of her—was gorgeous. But all she saw
were the signs of time passing. When she was young, she was paraded around
after her parents, then became a beauty queen. She was part of the 'famous for
being famous' crowd for what she looked like as well as who she was. But all
she'd fixate on was a wrinkle or a skin tag or some other sign her body wasn't
what it had been."
"I
guess we're never really happy?"
"You
seem pretty happy right now." He said this as he dipped his fingers inside
her.
"I
thought you said the dust had worn off." Hers had. This was just him doing
this to her.
"It
has. But you haven't." He lifted her onto the counter, kissed her deeply
as he slid inside her. "You make me feel young again, Seven."
"You
make me feel that way too."
Suddenly
Liam froze and she saw a gray bearded man open the door. "Isn't this
charming?"
His
voice was recognizable. "Q."
She
felt at a distinct disadvantage. Liam was pressed against her, had been fully
inside her when he froze.
"Don't
move, Seven of Nine, I'm not going to hurt you. I just have to figure out what
to do with you. You were not supposed to stay here."
She
put her arms protectively on Liam's shoulders. "Do not hurt him."
"Wouldn't
dream of it." He leaned against the far wall, one leg up, studying his
fingernails and muttering to himself.
"Are
you...okay?"
"Hmmm.
Oh, yes. Just running scenarios. Gets harder when you're as old as I am. I knew
what I was going to do with you, but that transport inhibitor has really thrown
a wrench into things. Then again, you don't really look like you're missing
your ex."
"Don't
you dare hurt her either."
"No I need her. And I thought I needed you for the necessary
consolidation of two others. Oh but nanoprobes and her
son—equally compelling argument, perhaps more so to potentially lose him twice
if he fought with her—yes, that's fine then. You're fine where you are, Seven
of Nine. Just—don't get too fond of this place." He winked and he was
gone, the door shut and Liam started moving again.
She
let out breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. What the fuck?
"Hey,
where'd you go?" He studied her face, slowing his movements, starting to
ease out of her.
"No.
I'm right here." She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him back to
her. If she took Q at his word, she would not be staying here—and here would no
doubt cease to exist. She needed to enjoy Liam while she could. "I'm right
here. Please don't stop."
##
They'd
been lounging around the apartment for two days. Talking now more than having
sex. About everything and nothing. Just...enjoying each other.
She
thought she'd ceased to be any kind of stand-in for his Annika. That he was
interacting with her as a unique person. Even when their eyes went back to
normal and he saw the blue of hers—and his Annika's—he seemed to like being
with her.
Right
now they were sitting up in bed, enjoying very old
scotch and he was telling her what all his tattoos meant.
"Did
you have any on your other body?"
"No,
I thought the implants were adornment enough." She rolled her eyes and he
laughed gently.
"Would
you get one on this body? I mean...if you stayed?"
"I
don't know. What kind should I get?"
"I
know what the selfish me would say."
"What?"
He
reached down and pulled her right arm up, then held it next to his and drew
over where their skin came together. "A Claddagh ring, half on me, half on
you, pointing toward the heart because that means you're taken."
She
looked away. "And which Annika would you be marrying this time?"
"Yeah,
I guess that's a really dumb idea, isn't it. You've known me barely forty-eight
hours and I'm already trying to lock that down."
"Again."
He
shook his head. "No, Annika would never mar her flesh with something like
a tattoo. Well, maybe for cosmetic purposes but not for just fun. I'm proposing
this to Seven."
"Oh."
"I
can make temporary ones for us. You want to be silly and try it?"
She
laughed and nodded. He got up and dug through the same closet that the robes
and other clothes were in, and came out with a little device. As he sat back on
the bed, he said, "Hand me my padd."
She
did then curled into him as he brought up the image of
the ring, told her the crown, heart, and hands stood for loyalty, love, and
friendship, and explained the different ways to wear it.
There
were really elaborate versions and more simple ones, and he let her pick one in
the middle. Then he set it for two people, used the machine to measure the area
of their arms and he adjusted it down a bit. "Too big is tacky."
"Right."
She laughed softly.
"Shut
up. Master at work." He made some final adjustments, then held it over
their arms. "It only takes a second. Will last about a month unless we use
a special solution to take it off."
The
machine dinged and he pulled it away.
"Wow,
that's so much prettier than on the screen." She pulled her arm away, saw
that even the half on her arm was still pretty if definitely incomplete.
"Pretty
fucking indulgent of you to let me do that. But then you know you're going
back, don't you?"
She
met his eyes, trying to keep her expression Vulcan-blank.
"You
were with me in the bathroom and then suddenly you weren't. You mentioned an
omnipotent being. Did they..."
She
shrugged, refusing to answer.
"Again,
you'd just say no if I wasn't right." He let the machine slip to the floor
and then curled up into her. "It's kind of a relief, in a weird way."
"Why?"
"Well
aside from not wanting to say goodbye to you just yet, I've never felt..."
He was tearing up.
"Hey.
No, it's okay."
"No,
I mean, this just never felt right. Like I was living a life I shouldn't have
been, you know? It's why I joined the rebellion. There has to be a better
way."
"There
is. And I'm sure you're part of it."
"You
don't even know me in your reality."
"I
know but—"
"Promise
me you'll find him. Promise me that."
"What
if he's married? Has kids and is happy?"
"What
if he's not? I'm not saying bust up his happy home if he's really got it good.
I'm saying make sure he's not alone. Because...I feel things for you. Things I
actually believe are reciprocated, unlike with my Annika. She'd have been bored
of all this talking after the first few hours."
"Well,
she also knew you."
"No,
I don't think she actually did. You may know more."
She
loved that he was giving her that. Wanted to give him something too. "The
implants I talked about. I was assimilated as a child by the Borg. Rescued but
I'd been with them too long. The doctor had to keep some of the implants."
"Well that makes a lot more sense why people would look at
you as part of the problem." But he didn't seem to be pulling away.
"Why'd you tell me now? Other than I'm going to cease to exist in not too
long?"
"Because
I don't want to lie to you anymore. And that was the only lie I've told
you."
"Your
girlfriend's going to want you back, isn't she? From what you've told me, she
really loves you. So you probably won't be looking the
me of there up. And that's okay. Whatever makes you happy. I think maybe you
haven't had a lot of that in your life. Little things really seem to make you
happy."
"You're
not wrong." She looked down, thought about what he'd said. "I don't
know what I'll do. But...I also don't know what I won't do, if you get my
drift."
"So
maybe you'll look me up?"
"I
will find you. But whether it's for romance or not, I'm not sure. If, that is,
I don't die here with you. That omnipotent guy may not need me. Great romances
are built on mutual tragedy, right?"
"That's
for the birds. I want you alive. Alive and happy in a universe that makes
sense. And the next time you're in front of a full length
mirror, look at yourself. Really look. I bet you'll see something beautiful
looking back."
She
pushed him to his back and crawled on top of him. "I'd rather see
you."
##
They
were just falling asleep when it happened. Drowsy beyond their ability to fight
sleep, not after running from the city, and the drugs, and all the sex and
communing with words.
She
could feel things shifting and looked at him in panic. He smiled in the most
fearlessly gentle way imaginable and said, "I could love you so
easily."
"I
could love you so easily too." She dashed away tears that were making it
hard to see. "Maybe I won't go. Maybe I won't go. Maybe I won't—"
There
was a flash, a long spinning moment of darkness and motion in all directions at
once that somehow did not rip her apart. And then another flash and she was in
a room—a classroom of some kind.
She
looked down, saw two things at the same time: her Borg implant on her left hand
and the sleeve of a Starfleet uniform.
Everyone
around her was frozen.
"Hello
again, Seven."
"Q?"
He
didn't appear, and his voice was softer than before. "I need you with him
for a very special reason, but no rule says you can't get on that ship a few
years early. Consider it a parting gift and apology for dealing with Junior.
Make a good impression, Commander Seven of Nine."
"Wait.
Raffi...?"
"Is
preoccupied with Elnor nearly dying and how the Jurati Queen saved him. None of that will make sense to
you, but..."
"The
Jurati Queen?"
"You
really were supposed to be there. She and Raffi look very strange together but
they do share a son now."
"Raffi's
with Agnes?"
"Something
like that. Oops, class is about to start. Pay attention, child." And then
there was the sound of a finger snap and everything around her came to life.
"Our
next presenter is Captain Liam Shaw. On admin day we like to bring you some of
the people who actually are in the field using the rules and regs rather than
just writing and quoting them to you. Captain Shaw of the USS Titan,
everyone."
Everyone
stood as he walked in and she followed suit.
"At
ease." His voice was subtly different. "You too, Commander Seven of Nine."
She
realized she was still standing and quickly took her seat. How did he know her
name?
And
she really was a fucking commander? Q hadn't just been yanking her chain? She
could not bite back the grin.
His
talk could have been dry—probably should have been—but he was funny in a way
the other Liam wasn't. Confident instead of beaten down by life and the woman
he loved.
But
then he brought up a regulation that made zero sense to her.
"Why
does that regulation exist, sir?" she asked.
"Such
a great question. Any ideas?"
Her
classmates were throwing ideas around, all trying to find the positive side of
the regulation, but she shook her head and he smiled at her. "Commander,
you disagree."
"It's
meant to slow an officer down. Limit recklessness. Did you write it?"
He
laughed out loud. "I did not, as a matter of fact. But I do love it."
"What
if recklessness is required?" She felt as if it was just the two of them,
no one else in the classroom.
"How
would you get around it?"
"I'd
find a reg that contradicts it." She realized she had her Borg-enhanced
memory back. "Like forty five slash ten."
"Ooh,
interesting chess play. But what if you couldn't use that one?"
"The
Vulcans have one that would work. So do the Klingons." She grinned.
"Or I'd just do it and ask forgiveness later."
"I
bet you would too. How would you rewrite this to be less limiting?"
She
considered and realized her classmates were looking back and forth like they
were at a tennis match. "I don't think I would. If an officer doesn't know
the regs that contradict or at least ease you into not doing it, then maybe
they should be corralled."
"You're
only saying that because you know all the regs."
"Not
all of them—I have gaps for any added after I left Voyager." She hoped Q
hadn't rewritten her personal history too much. "I'm saying it because
while an officer can't be afraid to try to manage chaos when it erupts, it's a
pretty shitty steady state."
"That
it is." He grinned at her and she felt a pang at how much she loved the
grin, then he somehow turned his attention back to everyone, so seamlessly it
was as if the two of them had never gone conversationally offline.
She
sat back and enjoyed watching him, learning from him. And at the end of the
class, as her classmates filed out for a break, he turned to the instructor and
said, "I'm going to borrow Commander Seven for the next hour. Hope it's
nothing pressing she'll be missing."
"You're
fine," the instructor, whose name she had no clue about, said.
She
grabbed her padd and followed him out. "Sir?"
He
turned. "I need a first officer, Seven—mine just
unexpectedly decided to follow her spouse to his assignment rather than the
other way around, which is what she told me when I hired her."
"Oh."
She saw Q's hand in that.
"I'm
also a survivor of Wolf 359."
His
nasty, mean hand in it. Fuck.
"Oh."
She looked down, thinking of the promise to the other Liam. This was going to
be the shortest quest in history. "I understand, sir. I'm sure there are
other qualified candidates and I'm—"
"Stop
whatever bullshit you're going to say. You're a victim too
the way I see it. You were taken at six. You had no fucking say. Why you hang
on to the name of your kidnappers is beyond me, but it's what you joined
Starfleet with, so I'll honor it. You want the job or not?"
"Why
me?"
"Are
you telling me you're not qualified?"
"Of
course not. I'm super qualified."
"Glad
your ego is well developed."
"That's
a fact, not ego. I didn't come up through Starfleet." Did she? Shit she
wished she knew how much had changed.
"Well
aware. I've read your file. You bring a lot of experience from the
rangers."
"Most
people call that baggage."
"I'm
not most people, Commander."
"No,
I know that, Li—Captain Shaw."
He
eased her out of the main corridor and into an empty side one. "We've
never met, right? When we were younger, drunk at a party?"
"We've
never met, sir." In this reality, she silently added.
"Then
explain this." He gently pushed up the right sleeve of her uniform.
The
tattoo was still there. Only it didn't look temporary anymore.
"I
had a dream. A crazy ass old man who goes by Q told me Commander Seven of Nine
was going to be my new first officer. To enjoy our new matching tattoos. And to
not bother worrying about fraternization rules because we look really great
together naked. And for the record, I don't usually remember my dreams in that
much detail. And when I woke up, I found this." He pushed up his left
sleeve. The other half of the ring. Also way more than
temporary. "I did not have this on my arm when I went to sleep. Even with
the newest tech, tattoos still need some time to heal. They itch like fuck when
they're new. This doesn't."
She
traced the ring. "Love, loyalty and friendship."
"And
we're both taken given the placement. This is kind of a lot, I won't lie, and
you're fucking lucky my Gram raised me on romantic fairy tales full of magic
and destiny."
"And
happy endings?"
"And
happy fucking endings." He cocked his head and looked—really looked at
her. Somehow seeming to see past the implants, all the way to her soul.
"This feels right. And I'm not an impulsive man. Is this crazy?"
She
made sure the corridor was still empty, then pulled him down to kiss her.
It
was a great fucking kiss. Like the other Liam, and not. More sober somehow.
More open too—less him holding on to try to keep her and more him discovering
her with no other Annika in between them.
She
pulled away and stared at him. He stared back, a beautiful smile starting.
"Not
crazy at all, Liam." She grinned at him. "I'd love the job. And if
you do worry about fraternization rules, if that's a bridge too far, I can
wait."
"After
that kiss? And when Q visits you in your dreams, you should probably do what he
says, don't you think? I do know who he is."
"I
really do think you should."
"I'm
on leave other than your class today. Ship's in for some quick repairs. You
want to blow off the whole day? Go get some dinner. Get to know each other. See
if this is crazy right or crazy stupid?"
"I
think that sounds like an excellent idea."
He
pulled out a padd and sent a message to her instructor—Commander Givens. Good
to know.
"She's
fine that I'm stealing you for the whole day. O Club or off campus?"
"O
Club." She wanted to do this right. Take it slowly. Let him lead. And she
thought he'd respect that choice the most.
"Good
call. If you impress me, I'll take you up to the ship for a quick tour."
His tone made it clear that was really what he meant,
it wasn't a clever way to get her to his quarters.
"If
you impress me, I'll let you."
"You've
got things backwards, Seven. I'm the captain, glory be to me." He laughed
and she laughed at the familiarity of the sound, and the new infectiousness of
it, a lightness that came from living in a world that was not horrible all the
time. "You have to impress me, Commander."
She
rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. We'll see about that."
"Jesus,
is there nothing you won't argue about?" Without even waiting for her to
answer, he said with a laugh, "Wait. I know the answer to that already.
No."
FIN