The Way You Look at Me
 

"B’Elanna!" Captain Kathryn Janeway, the much admired and respected commanding officer of the Federation starship Voyager, called out to her engineer that was several meters ahead of her, tramping through the dry, prickly brush with reckless abandon, "Stop…I need a break."

"Huh?" Torres murmured, stopping her quick, angry stride and turning on her heels to look at her companion. Then seeing the sweet beaded liberally across the older woman’s brow and neck, the half Klingon female nodded, stuffing her angst deep inside of her for the moment, and replied, impatience ebbing, "Right…"

Janeway, also putting her impatience aside, made her way to a nearby boulder under a pine tree, out of the exhausting rays of this remote planet’s binary suns, and said, wryly, "Thank you." Taking off her oppressive tunic and wiping her face and neck with it, she chuckled, "I guess I need to start spending more time in the gymnasium if you keep insisting on joining the away teams." As Torres approached her, looking down at her feet as she negotiated the incline, she asked, "Can I get some water from the pack?"

Once Torres’ feet were firmly planted against several small, dehydrated weeds to keep from losing her footing, she pulled the black backpack from her straight shoulders and dug out the canteen. Handing the small, silver container over to her captain, B’Elanna said, "I’m sorry, Captain…I just got caught up in my own head. It won’t happen again."

After taking two healthy swigs of the ice cold water, Kathryn Janeway wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and asked, eyeing the tension in the half Klingon’s shadowy eyes, "Do you want to talk about what has you so upset that you took off up this mountain half-cocked…or why you haven’t looked at your tricorder since we beamed down, Lieutenant?" The captain knew that pointing out to Torres that she was neglecting her duties was a fairly precarious move to make, but she also knew that if she broached the subject differently, she would most likely not get the response she was hoping for. In truth, Janeway wasn’t as concerned with their safety as she was with the demeanor of her friend. This was just a small survey mission, and all scans of the planet had told them that there weren’t any sentient creatures on the surface. There were several types of animals, but most of them resided in the lush, cool rainforests that covered a significant portion of the planet. The few that did brave the searing heat of this high desert terrain were undoubtedly taking shelter until the temperature abated; something that didn’t look like it was going to do for quite sometime.

A little taken back by the captain’s directness, even though she had known the woman for almost seven years, Torres immediately tensed her already solid shoulders, and responded, "It’s nothing, Captain." When Janeway didn’t look away from her, but only intensified her powerful stare, B’Elanna faltered some, and then nodded, looking away, "I’m sorry for neglecting my responsibilities. I’ll be more careful."

Not quite ready to accept the answer she knew was perfectly adequate, she pushed herself up onto the top of the fairly flat rock, and said, "B’Elanna, I’m not going to order you to talk to me…but if you want to, I’m listening." Then leaning back on her hands, Janeway lowered her chin to her chest and looked away from the younger woman. She knew that she couldn’t push anything out of Torres, and nor did she want to, even though she did indeed want to help her crewman if she could. This was one of those situations that the captain found herself in often. Having to balance between being the captain and being a friend was something that she felt she was fairly capable of doing with a certain amount of success, but that didn’t mean that it was easy; however, with some crewmembers, this one not an exception, it was done without too much cogitation. Before the Caretaker’s array had whisked them to the other side of the galaxy, Janeway never had to worry about this duality much. Certainly there had always been crewmembers that she had grown fond of, and spoke with in slightly less than professional circumstances, but there was never this palpable fear of intimacy that constantly plagued her now. Before, if she felt a crewmember was becoming too friendly with her while on duty, then she would just knock them down a notch or two, or have them reassigned if that didn’t work, but here there was no possibility of reassignment. Nor could she just go around making everyone either hate or fear her wrath because that tended to make her job that much more difficult. Janeway couldn’t afford for her crew to feel as though she didn’t care about their feelings…not out here…not when they were all alone. So, she had to force herself to put aside her captaincy from time to time and just be a friend, but almost every time she did so, there was constantly a small voice in the back of her mind screaming at her to retreat, post haste.

Stifling the rage that was boiling in her belly, Torres sighed, kicking at the dried dirt on the ground, "I appreciate that, Captain…maybe later? Right now, I think I should just focus on what we’re doing."

Nodding her head, Janeway responded, "Fair enough." Then sitting upright again, putting her business face back on, she said, pulling out her tricorder, "Looks like the canyon is a little less than two kilometers north of here." After adjusting her tricorder to scan for the comm-badges of the other away team members, she went on, "Tuvok and Seven are almost to the caves." Taking her comm-badge from her jacket and placing it on her sweat soaked undershirt, she slapped it, saying, "Janeway to Tuvok."

"Tuvok here, Captain," said her security chief after only a two-second delay.

Looking down at the communication device above her right breast, she asked, "What’s your status?"

"Seven and I should reach the caverns within the hour, Captain."

"Good. B’Elanna and I should reach the canyon soon as well. Considering the climate," Janeway said, giving Torres a grin, which to her surprise the brunette acknowledged with a crooked grin of her own, "why don’t you and Seven conduct the survey of the caves and then report back to Voyager? B’Elanna and I will do the same for the canyon, and if there’s no problem, then we’ll land the ship. I don’t see a need for you two to meet up with us." Janeway knew that she was most certainly the only individual having difficulty in this weather, but she was still not going to make her colleagues do something she wasn’t going to do herself. Torres, a half Klingon, was notoriously cold aboard the more tepid air of starships. Tuvok was Vulcan and hailed from a planet that Janeway never looked forward to visiting simply because it was so hot, despite the fact that it was her dear friend’s home. And of course, Seven of Nine’s Borg enhanced physiology kept her perfectly comfortable in practically every environment; however, Janeway was the captain, so from time to time she allowed herself to use her rank to keep herself fairly comfortable, but only when there was no danger in doing so. "There has to be some reward for being the captain," she thought to herself.

"Acknowledged. Tuvok out."

"Well," the captain said hoping down from the rock and then tying her jacked around her trim, straight waist, "I guess we should get going. It might be hotter than hell now, but something tells me this place cools down quite a bit at night." Then putting the canteen back in the pack on B’Elanna’s back, she asked, "Do you want me to carry that for a while?"

Craning her neck around so she could look at Kathryn to see if she was joking, she answered, realizing that she was completely serious, "I’ve got it, Captain."

"Alright," Janeway said starting up the hill first this time, "but tell me if it becomes too much."

Shaking her head and smiling at the captain’s ridiculous but all too endearing comment, she answered, staying behind Janeway, "Aye Captain." Torres, of course, was not only perfectly comfortable in this climate, but she knew for a fact that she was quite a bit stronger than Janeway. One thing she did appreciate about her mother’s Klingon heritage was that when it came to physical endurance, she always had plenty to go around. The devilish part of her thought about actually accepting the captain’s offer, just to see the look on her face, but Torres knew she would never really do that. Not only did she not want to unduly burden the captain, a woman who went above and beyond the call of duty where Torres was concerned many times, but it would also obstruct the fairly decent view she had of the captain’s backside. After watching Janeway lumber up the hill in front of her for several meters, Torres suddenly had the urge to rip the jacket from captain’s waist so she could truly get an eye full. Then realizing what she was thinking about as if the thought was somehow not her own, she wiped her forehead and forced herself to put her mind back to the readings on her tricorder, mumbling Klingon profanities at herself for even thinking about the captain in terms other than that of her commanding officer. The fact that she was a beautiful, vibrant woman had no merit…at least, that is how she knew she should think, but sometimes around Kathryn Janeway, it was difficult, if not downright impossible not to get lost in the view. "Kahless sakes, Torres…drooling over the captain is not the way to handle this situation!"

Recognizing a few of the foreign words, Janeway said over her shoulder as she continued up the steepest part of the ruddy, dirty hill, using her hands to steady herself, "Care to share that?"

Looking up, realizing that she hadn’t mumbled as softly as she thought, and getting a nice glimpse of the captain’s rear end as she leaned over, Torres laughed despite herself, and answered, "Take my word for it, Captain, you don’t want to know." Putting her thoughts back to her job again, she said, "This incline should level off just on the other side of the rock formation."

"Amen," the captain said, breathing heavily. Not only was this the toughest workout she had experienced in the last six months, but she was certain that if she didn’t get out of this sun soon, she was going to have to be treated for sunburn. "Five more meters," she coaxed to herself, "just five more meters." Just as she was about to reach the apex of the steep hill, a small rock she was using to push off from gave way beneath her and started down the incline. Janeway instantly threw her body into the hard, dusty ground to keep herself from tumbling backward, and dug her trusty heels into the lose earth, biting a curse or two off herself.

"Shit!" Torres exclaimed, sidestepping the rock and other debris the captain had sent rolling her way. Then watching as the captain began to slide down the hill despite her desperate, but ultimately futile efforts to stop her decent, B’Elanna bent her knees, preparing to absorb the impact from the smaller woman. As Janeway slid into her, she latched onto the captain’s trousers at her hips, bringing her to a dead stop in a sizeable plume of dust. As the ground beneath her feet started to stir as well, Torres dropped to her knees, dug her heels into the earth as far as they would go and wrapped her arm around the captain’s small waist as she leaned forward, fighting gravity. For several seconds neither one of them moved, or breathed, hoping their silence would appease and settle the craggy surface beneath them. It wasn’t until Torres realized that her thigh was firmly pressing into the juncture of the captain’s legs that she finally inquired, quietly, "Are you alright, Captain?"

Flustered, and more that a little embarrassed, Janeway took stock of her body. Not feeling any pain except on her palms and her kneecaps, she answered, seriously, "Yes, I’m fine. Thank you." Only when the ache in her hands started to dissipate, did she become aware, in a trice, of where not only Torres’ hands were, but where her leg was. Feeling the heat from the Klingon's thigh impacting with her own warm center, and fighting the natural urge to press more firmly into the caress, she said, sarcastically, hoping humor would lighten the mood and subdue her disconcerting, yet automatic sexual responses, "Having fun?"

Chuckling at the captain’s sometimes bewildering sense of humor, she said, still not moving, "Let’s just say…I’m glad this was your idea and not mine."

"I’ll bet," Janeway laughed back, feeling slightly better, and greatly relieved that Tuvok and Seven where several kilometers away. She certainly didn’t want to have to explain this display to anyone else. Even though it was a perfectly innocent encounter, the small part of the captain that was enjoying this moment made the redhead postulate that she wouldn’t be able to explain the situation without blushing hotly. "Well, as much as I’d love to lie here and chat…I think we should try to get up."

"Right," Torres agreed. Unraveling from the captain slowly, as to not disturb the fragile earth beneath them, and to relish in the feeling of the captain’s lithe body beneath hers, despite the voice in the back of her mind that was screaming at her for even acknowledging the captain’s form, she said, "Okay, I’m good…try to get up," reading herself if the captain started to slide a second time.

Using her hands, Janeway pushed herself up onto her knees. Waiting a few seconds to make sure she wasn’t going to fall backward, Kathryn rose up onto her feet, but kept her hands on the ground. Knowing that she must look completely foolish, she sighed and started up the hill again, saying, "Next time I suggest that we go on a hike instead of beaming directly to our destination, do me a favor and tell the Doctor I need to have my head examined."


 

After a short break on the top of the hill to dust off, and a kilometer walk through a fairly flat, forest terrain, Janeway and Torres reached the edge of a rather large canyon. The depth and breadth of the canyon was probably about two hundred and fifty meters in both directions, but the length went on farther than their eyes could see. A sizeable river flowed at the base of the gorge, and even though Janeway knew that the crystal blue water could deceive the explorer with its power, she was certain they could find a place where her crew could swim without fear of being swept away in the current. Looking over at B’Elanna, who had taken up a quiet, steady post to her left, she said, wistfully, "Beautiful, isn’t it? Reminds me of Arizona."

Torres merely nodded in agreement, not looking at Kathryn, but only down into the huge crack in the earth. Then sizing up the picture, she said, "I don’t think Voyager will be able to land inside the canyon, Captain. We’ll have to land on the other side and either climb or beam down."

"Agreed," Janeway said with more than a little disappointment. That meant that they would have to keep a skeleton crew aboard the ship at all times. She was hoping that if they were able to land inside the canyon, she could let the whole ship disembark; they would all be close enough, so that if there was an emergency, they could get back to the ship easily. Now, they would have to climb an impressive sheer cliff to get back to Voyager or have to use the transporters. Still, the circumstances notwithstanding, it was a beautiful spot, and she was certain that the crew would appreciate any amount of liberty they could get. With that, she shrugged off her melancholy and tapped her comm-badge, having enough of a workout for one day. "Janeway to Kim."

"Go ahead, Captain," the youngest senior officer said immediately.

"Mister Kim, would you beam the lieutenant and myself onto the canyon’s floor? I’m afraid the cliffs are too steep for us to climb down," she requested, glancing over the precipice some.

"Acknowledged, Captain. Stand by," answered Kim.

Almost immediately, Janeway felt the familiar and always somewhat disturbing sensation of dematerialization, and a fraction of a second later, she was opening her eyes to see the cold, crisp, azure flow of the river that had carved out this canyon millions of years ago, directly before her. By rote, she retrieved her tricorder and started scanning the immediate area. After running a scan of the water to make sure it was safe, she shut off the device and returned it to the holster around her waist. Looking over her shoulder as she made her way toward the inviting water, she said to her crewman, "Lieutenant, what do you say we run a detailed analysis of this water…to make sure it’s satisfactory for our needs?"

Not realizing what the captain was actually saying, B’Elanna immediately pulled out her tricorder and began scanning the water for impurities, lifeforms, toxins, and anything else that could not be seen with the naked eye. Then when she saw the captain putting down her tricorder and phaser, and kicking off her boots, she smiled, finally understanding, and knowing that she probably would never be able to predict what this woman would do next. If anyone else had suggested that they take a dip in the river before surveying the rest of the surrounding area, she would have balked and cursed at them for being so negligent, but when the captain did it, all she could do was be grateful. Torres considered herself one of the hardest working members aboard the intrepid class starship, but she knew that no one put in more hours, more blood, sweat, and possibly tears than Captain Janeway. Of course, that is how it usually went with the few captain’s she had known, but somehow she knew that none of them came close to carrying the burden that this slight, redhead did. She never got a break…ever. She was always the captain…always the person to whom everyone turned…always in charge. For almost seven years straight she had been the captain for every second, so when Janeway decided to toss aside protocol from time to time, no one usually said anything. They all knew she deserved it, and they were all just happy knowing that she would come back to them shortly. The crew relied on her steadfastness just as much as they relied on the ship itself to transport them from one sector to the other safely.

Janeway removed her socks, rolled her pant legs to her knees and sauntered lazily over to the water’s edge. Carefully, she put one foot in, expecting an intense cold, but was surprised when the temperature of the water only mildly shocked her. Feeling brave, she didn’t bother getting used to the chill anymore, and waded out into the river until if she went any further she would wet her uniform. After cupping her hands and throwing some water on her face and neck to wipe off the grim from their eventful climb, she turned around to see Torres sitting on the shore watching her. Feeling a little uneasy under the stare, she asked, "Aren’t you going to come in?"

"No thanks, Captain…too cold for my blood," B’Elanna said, lying. The water was colder than she would prefer, but that wasn’t what was keeping her from going in. There was one thing that she certain no one aboard Voyager knew about her, and that was that she didn’t know how to swim. Sure, she put on a good act several years ago while availing herself to one of Tom Paris’ holoprograms, even showing up in a bathing suit once, but she had never actually went swimming. Her denser bones and muscles made it difficult for her as a child to swim, and after several failed attempts to learn, she had finally just given up. She knew it wasn’t impossible for her to learn, but now that she was a fully-grown woman, admitting the fact that she didn’t know how to swim was simply too embarrassing, so she avoided it at all costs, even to the point where she had put people off by her resistance. As much as she knew she would probably enjoy splashing around with the captain right now, she also admitted that just watching Kathryn be herself for these few, fleeting moments was probably equally rewarding. When the captain tore her undershirt from her body, leaving her torso clad only in a thin, grey standard Starfleet issue sports bra, dipped her shirt in the river and rang it out over her head, B’Elanna knew that her voyeurism was definitely not something to balk at. Feeling the blood thundering to her cheeks as the captain ran her fingers through her chin-length, slicked back hair, Torres decided she needed to do something to keep herself busy. Grabbing her backpack, she dug out the canteen and took a few sips of water, keeping her eyes low as the captain waded to the shore.

Putting on her soaked, but gloriously cool shirt, Janeway said plopping down next to B’Elanna, "I do miss the water."

Torres certainly didn’t miss the water, but feeling the need to just agree with Janeway so that she wouldn’t see her unease, she nodded and said handing the canteen to the captain, "Yea, me too…but you know what I miss more than anything?"

"What’s that?" Kathryn asked, lying back to sun herself.

Looking back at Janeway, despite herself, knowing that site of the captain would betray her, she smiled devilishly, trying not to rake her eyes over Janeway’s bosom that was fairly exposed through the thin, wet, grey shirt, "Beer."

"Beer?" Janeway barked, laughing. "I didn’t know you were a beer drinker, ‘Lanna," Janeway came back, happily leaving the captain aside for a few more moments.

"That’s because we’ve only had champagne together…and because I’ve yet to find a good replicated version in the ship’s database," Torres answered, rolling her eyes at the last part. "Not to mention that there aren’t a lot of pubs in the Delta Quadrant."

"Well, I guess we’ll just have to remedy that," Janeway answered, smiling, laying back again and closing her eyes.


 

After a half an hour more of lounging in the sun, Janeway and Torres put themselves back together and surveyed the rest of the immediate area. Other than a few small types of harmless reptiles and three questionable plants, they both determined that this was an ideal spot for base camp and contacted Voyager to request a beam out. When they arrived in Transporter Room One, Tuvok and Seven of Nine had just returned to the ship and Seven, formerly of the Borg Collective, was waiting for them. After exchanging a few pleasantries with Seven and the captain, B'Elanna took off for Engineering. Once Torres was gone, Seven informed the compact captain that the caves, although unremarkable, were completely free of any wildlife or any other dangers, and that they would make acceptable temporary habitat for the crew that wished to utilize them. Janeway couldn’t help but chuckle at Seven’s less than enthusiastic description, and she wasn’t at all surprised when Seven volunteered to remain aboard the ship during the crew’s shore leave. However, even though Janeway could have allowed Seven to stay aboard so that other crewmembers could take advantage of the free time, she knew that Seven was simply offering to forgo her vacation because the Borg was unaccustomed to the idea. So, instead, she said that Seven could stay on the ship as long as she wanted, but she was required to take two consecutive days off. Furthermore, she stated that she wouldn’t order Seven to go planet-side, except to attend the picnic that Neelix would undoubtedly plan, that was standard procedure these days, but that she hoped Seven would take this opportunity to relax and try something new. Seven agreed, not entirely reluctant, and just before the turbolift came to a halt on Deck One, Janeway asked, "Seven, can you swim?"

"The Borg do not swim, Captain," Seven stated, clearly aghast at the thought of a Borg frolicking in the water. It wasn’t that Seven believed that everything the Borg did was correct and that any other behavior was inefficient and irrelevant, it was just that the Borg had eighteen years of her life, where this solitary woman had only three. Some of her reactions were still very much Borg…it was merely a matter of conditioning.

"Well, you’re not Borg anymore remember," Janeway reminded, smirking. "Once you get done with your shift, why don’t you come visit me and I’ll teach you?" When Seven looked at hear with a combination of fear and shock, Janeway poked her in the ribs and laughed, exiting the turbolift, "It’ll be fun…trust me."

Sighing and rolling her eyes, but no longer able to resist Janeway’s charm, one thing Seven had never been able to do with much success since their first, fateful encounter, the ex-Borg remarked, stepping up to the auxiliary tactical station, "Very well, Captain."

Janeway shot the cool blonde her best, crooked smile as she made her way down the small flight of stairs. Sliding up next to her first officer, who had stood the moment Kathryn entered the Bridge, she asked, crisply, but not harshly, "Report?"

"We’re almost ready, Captain. Engineering is running a few final diagnostics of the landing thrusters. As soon as they check out, we’re ready to go," the tall, tanned, handsomely rugged commander answered.

"Good," Janeway nodded, sitting down in her command chair. Then turning and leaning toward Chakotay, now also sitting, she asked softly, "We’re you able to finish the duty roster for the first round of shore leave?"

"Aye, Captain," Chakotay said, bringing up the information on the small console between them. "Enough personnel volunteered to stay on for a next forty-eight hours to finish up a few things…mostly the folks in Science…so it wasn’t a problem. Tuvok, Seven and Paris have also volunteered to stay on until the next rotation."

If Janeway was surprised that her helmsman, Tom Paris, had elected to not spend his vacation with his girlfriend, B’Elanna Torres, she didn’t show it. She knew that there had been problems in their relationship for sometime now, even though they did fairly well to not let it interfere with ship’s business, and she had suspected that their failing relationship was the reason for Torres’ problems earlier that day. Letting go that train of thought for now as she was hailed over the ship’s comm system, she instinctively looked up and said, "Janeway here…go ahead, B’Elanna."

"The thrusters checked out, Captain. We’re ready when you are."

"Acknowledged. Stand by. Janeway out." Then rising to her feet, she looked back, pointing to Tuvok and ordered, "Mister Tuvok, set Condition Blue." Tapping her comm-badge again, she announced, "All hands, this is the captain. Prepare to land the ship." Then marching down the small flight of stairs to the helm, where Lieutenant Paris was quietly waiting, she placed her hand and the back of his chair, letting him know she was near, and said, "Mister Paris, take us in."

"Yes, Ma’am," Paris came back, confidently, knowing he could land the ship on an old fashioned aircraft carrier if he had to. Maneuvering the craft out of its geosynchronous orbit and setting the angle of decent manually, Paris forced himself not to tense when Janeway did not retreat back to the command deck of the Bridge. Not that he wasn’t used her to hands-on approach to her position, but really, did she always have to hover at critical moments? Even though he had never given her a reason to do such, he was quite certain that she would have no problems shoving him out of his chair and taking over herself if she felt the need.

As the shark-like starship entered the planet’s stratosphere, the ground beneath them began to tremble steadily. Even though they had landed the ship three times previously, the procedure was still fairly new to the crew, except for the captain, who had been through the training simulation more times than she could remember before taking over command of Voyager officially, so that knowledge caused Janeway to set her jaw squarely, and kept her steadfastly standing just behind Paris. She knew she was probably a little bit rusty, but she had faith that if they go in trouble, she could jump in, in a pinch, and recover the ship. Not that she thought she would ever have to do that; Tom Paris was an ace, even if he was a lose cannon, but a good captain was a prepared captain, so she didn’t budge. Putting all irrelevant thoughts from her mind for the time being, she allowed her senses to take over. The trembling beneath her feet was normal and well within acceptable perameters, she knew. If was soft, steady, and only slightly intrusive. Their speed was good, maybe a touch faster than she could have liked, but it was still acceptable as well, and their entry angle was right on. Too steep or too flat and Tuvok would be informing her that the hull temperature was becoming a problem. Then as a small series of beeps sounded behind her, she knew they had entered the ionosphere. This small area of a Class ‘M’ planet’s atmosphere notoriously caused several communications and scanning problems, although minor, and the beeps behind her was the computer informing the crew that the ship’s long range scanners were being affected temporarily. And just like clockwork, Voyager burst through the high cloud cover like some kind of mythical archangel, and the captain smiled at the view before here…it could have so easily been of Earth. Just a few changes here and there, and she wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. Patting Paris on the back, she said, "Nicely done, Tom. Set us down right next to the canyon."

"Already got the spot picked out," Paris said, smiling.

Janeway made her way back to her command chair and forced herself not to snicker at Chakotay who was hanging onto his armrests so tightly his knuckles were paler than her own. Purposefully lax, she crossed her legs and whispered, "Like riding a bike."

Not loosening his grip, he said back, "I don’t care what they say…Starships aren’t supposed to land. It’s just not right."

Laughing quietly, she glanced back at Seven, who she knew could always heard everything she said to Chakotay thanks to her Borg enhanced hearing. Spotting the small, but definite upturn of the woman’s full, coral lips, she shook her head, chuckling again, knowingly. When Chakotay looked over at her perplexed, she merely nodded and faced forward again. Seven, of course, never let on that she could hear what was being said, and in turn, neither did Janeway. It was just too much fun to pretend to be ignorant and watch Seven’s reactions. No matter what anyone thought of the stoic woman, Janeway simply adored her candor and innocent perspective. She could always be counted on to speak honestly about any subject without fear of reprisal. Even though sometimes her responses were achingly scientific and foreseeable, that only pushed Janeway to open the ex-Borg’s eyes to new situations so she, herself, could enjoy the wonder of discovery vicariously through Seven. That was something she didn’t think she’d ever get tired of doing…even if she lived a thousand years.

Very carefully, Paris slowed the hefty ship to a crawl, pushing the ship’s landing thrusters to maximum, and slowly they eased downward. Once Janeway saw the horizon level off, she ordered, "Tuvok, engage the landing struts. Tom, slow us down just a bit, please."

"Aye, Captain," the men said in unison as the sound of the massive landing gear, that looked similar to the legs of a bird, resonated throughout the hull. Then several seconds later, the ship was jolted just slightly as she touched-down and the struts compensated for the girth now resting upon them.

Standing up, feeling recharged by yet another perfect landing, Janeway said, "Stand down Condition Blue. Excellent work, everyone. Mister Chakotay has the duty rosters available, as well as the shore leave guidelines, so I suggest that you look them over as soon as possible." Then making her way up the steps, she concluded, "So, if I don’t see you before, I’ll see you all at the picnic. Seven," Janeway asked, stopping next to the tall woman, "you’re with me."

"Yes, Captain," Seven said, pushing off from the small tactical station and following the slight redhead into the turbolift, not questioning. She knew Janeway would explain herself once they were in private, as she tended to do, so when the pneumatic doors hissed closed, she placed her hands behind her back, and looked down at Janeway, waiting patiently.

"Deck Three," Janeway ordered. Then leaning against the back wall, casually, she explained, "I know you’re going to be on duty for a few days, and since I’m not, I’d thought I take this time to make sure you’re adequately prepared for your vacation."

"Explain," Seven asked, confused as the doors opened.

Stepping out and making her way toward her quarters, she asked, "Have you ever been camping, Seven?"

"No, Captain, I have not," the Borg answered, matter-of-factly.

"Well, then you’ll need to know what to bring then, won’t you?" Janeway said, smartly, pressing her index finger to the panel on the right side of her door. "Lights," she ordered, unzipping her tunic.

"You are correct. I have not thought about it," Seven said, coming to a halt just inside the captain’s quarters. She had been in this room several times in the past, usually under much more antagonistic circumstances, and even though she felt comfortable in the doorway, she did not feel as comfortable proceeding farther into this habitat. This was the captain’s personal space, the place where she regenerated, and there was a much different air to the captain when she was in here. Her Ready Room was also a personal space of the captain’s, however since it was a place of business, it still felt and looked very much like every other part of the ship. But in this room, there were personal affects of the captain’s that most people were never granted the privilege of seeing. Although Seven didn’t understand every emotion and connotation that this room represented, she felt it nevertheless, and as most people would attest, whenever the Borg didn’t understand something she was feeling, trouble and chaos were usually not far behind.

"Don’t worry about it…that’s my job, remember?" Janeway smirked, walking up to the replicator. "Coffee, black." Then looking over to Seven, who still hadn’t moved a millimeter, she asked, "Something to drink?"

"I do not require liquid refreshment at this time," Seven stated, as usual.

Janeway was accustomed to the response, but she always asked nonetheless; not so much out of politeness, but more so hoping that one day Seven would surprise her yet again. Then making her way toward her bedroom, she stopped at the door, turned toward Seven, and tilted her head toward the bedroom, her body language somewhat flirtatious, trying to relax Seven, rather than lure her…even though luring the young blonde to do her bidding, professionally, was a common occurrence, "Come on, Seven…my stuff ‘s in here."

The captain took a large swallow of the coffee, even though it was still hot, set the mug down on the small table near her lounger, and proceeded into the closet, calling out from within, "Have a seat if you want."

Seven glanced around, unsure. Noting the only place for her to sit was on the captain’s bed, something telling her that she should refrain from choosing that destination, or the lounger, an apparatus Seven did not comprehend a need for, she decided to remain standing. She was comfortable standing. She stood for practically eighteen straight years while with the Collective, and whenever she was faced with a situation that was unfamiliar or evoked emotions that she was uncomfortable with, or unaccustomed to, she consistently feel back on habit.

When Janeway emerged from the closet carry a small, grey bag and an armful of clothing, she smirked at Seven, shaking her head as she threw the contents on her bed, "Let me guess…you prefer to stand?"

Cocking her eyebrow, knowing that the captain was attempting humor, Seven stated, "Correct."

Laughing and glaring playfully at Seven, she opened her bag and began her lesson on packing. "Very well. Now, since you only wear your biosuits, lovely as they may be, we won’t worry too much about what to wear this time. However, you are going to want to bring a bathing suit, since I don’t think even you want to swim in…that."

Seven, who was listening intently, putting all of the captain’s words to memory, looked down at her skintight, maroon bodysuit, and said, "I do not believe that would be wise, Captain. These biosuits still assist several of my body’s systems, and I do not think the Doctor would appreciate it if I utilized them in this manner. Apparently, they are quite difficult to replicate."

"Yes, well, I definitely don’t need the Doctor breathing down my neck," Janeway mumbled packing a few pairs of shorts and t-shirts in her bag. Then grabbing her black bathing suit, she asked, "Do you have a bathing suit, Seven?"

"No, Captain."

"Then we better get you one," Kathryn said, making her way toward the clothing replicator near her closet. Then looking back, she said, "Don’t you want to pick one out?"

"I am unsure how to make a decision. What is the criteria?" Seven asked approaching the captain, but keeping her distance to an arm’s reach. Since coming into contact with the redheaded fireball, she had discovered that she was probably the most multi-faceted individual aboard Voyager, so she was accustomed to the captain’s sometimes abrupt changes from the captain to the mentor to the scientist; however, this particular modulation from the captain to the woman was sometimes difficult to negotiate, even if it was Seven’s preference. Seven was astounded by Janeway’s ability to flow back and forth between her identities, retaining all aspects, but asserting one to the forefront at any given moment, and even though Seven didn’t know any other way to be but herself, she was fairly certain that when Janeway underwent this transformation she was only being herself, as well. That understanding, notwithstanding, caused a certain amount of unease with the ex-drone because not only did she feel sometimes unable to keep up with Janeway’s changes, but the sensations that they caused, particularly this one, were often difficult to not react to. Her natural reaction to the captain when she was allowing her personal, private side to emerge was to be close to her. For several reasons that Seven of Nine had researched and pondered, this was not an acceptable reaction. Thus, she maintained her distance for as long as she could. Albeit, sometimes even a Borg’s instincts overrode her will, and there had been a few moments in the past where Seven had come very close to expressing herself in a way she knew the captain was not prepared to handle.

"Well," Janeway said, pulling up several selections on the console to the left, "of course, efficiency," the captain teased, knowing first hand how important efficiency was to Seven, even after three years away from the Hive mind, "but also something that is not only aesthetically pleasing to you, but will also be appreciated by the others around you."

"Explain," Seven asked, but her voice didn’t have the rough edge to it, this time, as it had in the turbolift earlier.

"Part of fashion, Seven, is the appeal that others around you also find your selection acceptable. Now, on a starship, fashion isn’t much of a concern in day to day life, but on vacation, you’re not required to wear your uniform. In fact, you’re encouraged to not. Fashion is a way of expressing yourself…your individuality. You should choose something that you are comfortable in…something you feel attractive in, and something that other’s will find attractive on you. Do you understand?"

"I think so," Seven nodded. "However, I believe I will require your assistance in making my decision since you will undoubtedly be the person with whom I spend my ‘vacation.’ In which one of these garments will you find me aesthetically pleasing?"

"Seven," Janeway chuckled, knowingly, and trying not to blush, although, with Seven it was often hard to not, "I’m sure you’d be stunning wearing a cargo container…but if you really want me to pick, I will."

"I do, Captain."

"Alright, but if you don’t like it, you must tell me and we’ll pick another, okay?"

"I will comply."

"Hmm," Janeway mumbled, rubbing her index finger across her lips as the choices were displayed, secretly enjoying picturing Seven in each of the swimsuits, but purposefully staying away from the two pieces, knowing she would enjoy those thoughts much more than she ought to. Settling on a deep purple, one piece, that had a modest scooped neck, and less than modest high cut thighs, she asked, "I like this one…you?"

Seven eyed the suit, comparing it to the others, and smirked, "Acceptable."

"Okay…" Janeway said, programming the device to replicate her selection. Once the purple latex suit appeared within the energy grid, Janeway handed the suit to Seven and made her way back over to her bed, thinking out loud, "Now…what else? Since you’re going to be staying with me, you don’t need to worry about supplies or bedding…I’ll take care of that…so, I guess that only leaves entertainment. What do you like to do when you’re not on duty, Seven…when you’re alone, I mean?" Janeway asked, knowing that most of the Borg’s interests revolved around her own, and trying to figure out how all of the sudden she was going to be vacationing with Seven. Not sure how that came about, whether it was of her own doing, or she had somehow missed Seven turning the tables on her, she let the thought go knowing she couldn’t very well back out now. Not only was she positive she would confuse and possibly hurt Seven’s feeling, but the longer she thought about it, the more appealing it sounded. Normally, Janeway would simply find a nice, quiet place where she could be alone…away from her duties and everything that reminded her of this crew’s plight, but now faced with the knowledge that she would have some company, at least for a short time…one never knew how long Seven of Nine would indulge her captain’s attempts to broaden her horizons…she was actually glad she, or Seven, had thought of it. "Change of pace certainly can’t hurt," she thought, folding more clothes.

"Kathryn…how is it that you keep putting yourself in these situations with Seven…over and over and over again…and still try to delude yourself about your motivations? So what…you enjoy her company…there’s nothing wrong with that. The fact that she’s fascinating and beautiful…well there’s nothing wrong with that either. Just because you can’t touch doesn’t mean you can’t admire the view. You’re not dead, for Christ sake."

"There is nothing I do outside of work, except the activities I share with you and Naomi," replied Seven.

"Really?" Janeway asked a little concerned. Not because it was clear that Seven was so dependent on her, but that she had yet to indulge in personal hobbies. "Seven, what do you do for all the hours that you aren’t on duty, and are not in my company?"

"I often research human behavior prior to regeneration."

Sitting down on her bed, realizing that she was probably about to get into a lengthy discussion, she asked, softly, "And during all of this research you haven’t found anything that sparks your interest enough to try it out for yourself?"

Looking away from the captain’s stare, Seven answered, "I have found a few areas of interest. However, due to our circumstances, it is impossible, or highly unlikely that I will be able to pursue them in the near future."

"Like what?" asked Janeway, growing more concerned by the minute. She knew that Seven was somewhat of a loner, mostly because she was not comfortable with the emotions that the beings on this ship displayed, but she had assumed that all the times Seven wasn’t on duty, regenerating, or spending time with her, she was enjoying herself in some way. Seven had been on this ship close to three years, certainly she would have said something before now if she was bored…wouldn’t she? When Seven faltered, Janeway stood and walked over to her. Placing her hand on her forearm, she looked up into Seven’s big, blue, doe eyes and said, "It’s alright, Seven…you can talk to me…you know that, right?"

"Yes, Captain…I am aware of this, but it is difficult," said the Borg in a rather small voice, very much removed more her normal crisp, decisive, almost arrogant tone.

"Sit down with me," Janeway said, putting her arm around the tall blonde and urging her over toward the bed. Once Seven sat, Janeway sat as well, keeping her arm around Seven and her body right next to hers, trying to show the usually cool blonde that, at least for her, she could toss her rank right at the window at the drop of a hat if need be. "What is it that you feel you can’t do? I know you said there were several, but let’s just start with one…the one you’re most interested in."

Looking down at her hands that were folded neatly in her lap, she exhaled, and stated. "I have observed that many of the crew utilize their ‘off time’ with specific individuals on a regular basis. Many of these occurrences are no doubt considered ‘dates.’ I am also aware through conversation, most of which occurs in Engineering, that several members of this crew are involved in sexual relationships…some of which are ‘serious.’ Considering my circumstances and status aboard this vessel, as well as my failed attempt at dating, I do not feel that I will be able to pursue a relationship," said Seven, still not looking at the captain, but regaining her confidence, at least when it came to reciting facts.

"Okay," Kathryn said, slowly, realizing that she had a much bigger problem on her hands than she first thought. Not only did she know that Seven was probably right, since most of the crew wouldn’t know how to handle Seven’s rough personality, but she also knew that somehow, she was going to have to figure out how to make Seven believe that there was always hope. Knowing you would live without romance because you were the captain, as was Kathryn’s case, was something much easier to deal with than believing you would be loveless because no one was interested. Of course, she couldn’t tell her what she really thought of Seven’s assessment of herself because that would just catapult the situation into utter chaos, something Janeway felt she had plenty enough to deal with already. But it was tempting not to grab the woman and tell her that if the circumstances were any different, Seven would have to beat her off with a stick, just knowing that it would make Seven feel better about herself. "First of all…I’m not certain I agree with the choice you and the Doctor made for your first date. Don’t get me wrong, I think the lieutenant is a fine man, but he just doesn’t seem your type."

"Agreed," Seven acknowledged, smiling somewhat modestly. Then tensing a little, she admitted, "Captain, I was not attracted to him, even though the ship’s database said that we were compatible considering our mutual interests. The Doctor also regarded him highly."

"Unfortunately, computers know close to nothing about matters of the heart, Seven. I’m sure if they did, we’d all be blissfully happy. Going to the computer, and your peers, are good places to start, but don’t let them be your definitive sources. Trust your instincts…trust your body…you’ll know when you are attracted to someone."

"I am aware of this," Seven came back. "There are two people on this vessel with whom I have exhibited all the classic signs of attraction."

Kathryn was surprised, slightly and intrigued, but she didn’t let it show. "But you haven’t tried dating again?"

"It is not possible to ‘date’ these individuals," Seven explained, somewhat forlorn.

"Why not?" asked Janeway, curious and confused. Then amending, realizing that Seven might feel pressured to give away this sensitive information, she said, "You certainly don’t have to tell me who they are, Seven…but if you want to, I hope you know that this is a private conversation that I would never share with anyone else."

"I am not concerned about confidentiality. I know that you would not divulge this information without my permission," Seven answered, quickly and surely, leaving no doubt that she trusted her captain implicitly. Then taking a deep breath, she continued, "Captain, I am not attracted to individuals of the male gender. The two crewmembers I am attracted to are both female…and both, as far as I have been able to determine, have not been involved in same sex relationships before. Of course, the ship’s database is fairly subjective, but according to their profiles, they are interested only in members of the opposite sex." Finally getting the courage to look at the captain, she was shocked when she found not a look of surprise on her captain’s face, but one of total admiration and pride.

"Seven," Janeway whispered, sweetly, ignoring her accelerated pulse at this news, "do you have any idea what an amazing discovery that is? Some people take their whole lives to realize that about themselves and to get past any fear that they may have."

"I do not understand. Why would anyone fear acknowledging their sexuality?"

"There are many reasons," the redhead explained. "One is that even though in the Federation homosexuality is treated with the same respect as heterosexuality, there are still several worlds were the idea is not embraced. In fact, on Earth, it wasn’t until late in the Twenty-first Century that same-sex parings were given all the rights that heterosexual couples had for well over two hundred years prior to that. There is also that being homosexual, or bisexual, automatically puts you into a minority, something some people are not comfortable with."

Nodding her head, clearly absorbing all the this information, Seven asked, "Captain, how would I go about finding out if someone who was previously been involved with a man is open to the possibility of a relationship with a woman?"

Feeling a little better, not so much like the conversation was spinning out her control since this was something she knew a little bit about, she answered, "Well, you would just treat the situation the same way as you would with someone who you knew was open to the idea. There really is no difference. You would want to spend time with them, get to know them, become friends first and foremost. Of course, some people would probably disagree with me, but personally, I’ve never had any luck with relationships unless we were friends first. With holodeck technology, there really is no reason to abuse someone’s feelings just for sexual purposes…do you understand the difference?"

"Yes, but I require more data. How do I get to know these people in this manner? I am assuming you are not suggesting that I ask them directly what I wish to know."

"No, it’s not really polite to ask a perfect stranger, or mere acquaintance what their sexual orientation is. Even if they are open to the idea, they could be offended by your directness. Plus, they could assume things about you that just aren’t true, simply because they don’t you know like I do," the captain explained. Leaning back on her side, she continued, choosing her words carefully, "You get to know someone out of everyday conversation. Spend time with them, listen to them…and pay attention…every one appreciates attention. Once you feel comfortable with them, ask them to join you for coffee…or dinner, something that is away from your duties where you can talk privately. If your time together is enjoyable, suggest that you meet again soon. If they are agreeable, then you know you are at least making a friend. Now, there’s no prescribed amount of time to wait before you bring romance into the mix…that is just something you have to feel your way through. It’s not always easy, but I think you’ll know when it’s right. If you have been honorable in your intentions from the beginning, and they turn out to not be interested in you sexually, then there won’t be a problem, and more than likely you’ll still have a friend. Does that help you any?"

"Yes, Captain," Seven said, turning her body all the way around toward Janeway. "You have been very helpful…much more so than the Doctor; however, I still do not believe that I will be able to utilize your advice aboard Voyager, considering the only women I am attracted to are not available at this time. One is currently involved with another person, and the other is unapproachable."

"Unapproachable huh?" Janeway laughed, scanning through the ship’s manifest in her mind trying to figure out about whom Seven was speaking. The only woman she could think of was B’Elanna Torres. Unapproachable certainly hit the mark where her temper and clear antagonism for the Borg’s arrogance in the past were concerned. The fact that she was ‘involved’ with Tom didn’t keep her from dismissing Torres because it was fairly obvious that she and Tom hadn’t been much of anything for some time. The involved one, as in happy according to the good captain, could have been any number of women…so she stopped trying to figure out that one. "If she is so unapproachable, why is she even a consideration?"

"Because no matter how often I remind myself that there is no hope for a relationship, when I am around her, I am content," Seven answered, softly. "This is illogical behavior, but I cannot help myself. It is difficult, yet pleasing just to be a part of her life. Captain Janeway, have you ever felt that way?"

"Oh yes," Janeway answered, honestly, knowing that a major part of her felt that very same way about the blonde sitting on her bed. There was just a comfortable grace that was always present when they were alone, even when they argued fiercely. Her relationship with Seven was so dynamic and complex that she was certain she’d never experience this again with anyone else. There just were no other Seven of Nine’s in the universe. She was truly unique, and so was their bond. "Many times…it’s part of being a person. Eventually, you come to terms with it and move on, either physically or emotionally…or both, but that doesn’t mean that they still don’t hold a special place in your heart forever. To be able to care and love another person is amazing, Seven. I can’t see any wrong in it, even if it is painful."

"Captain, may I ask you a personal question?" Seven asked after thinking about what Janeway had said for a few moments.

"Go ahead," Janeway said without trepidation.

"Have you ever been involved in a same-sex relationship?"

"No…no I haven’t," answered Janeway, somewhat surprised by the question, but not offended. She and Seven were friends, after all, and she had just recently finished telling Seven that she could ask such questions about friends, but yet again she felt like she was losing the control she so desperately needed to hang onto right now. "How does she always manage to turn these conversations around to me…you think with all my experience I’d be able to handle one ex-Borg?"

"Oh Kathryn…do shut up. You know you love it…and it’s not like you make it difficult. Honestly, sometimes you can be really dense."

"Have you never considered it?" Seven asked, trying and succeeding at keeping her tone even, and without any trace of the desperation she felt. Once the words were gone from her lips, part of Seven wanted to snatch them out of the air and take them back before they fell upon the captain’s ears, but it was too late, so she held her breath instead…feeling like her whole world was about to come crashing down or be lifted up to a height she had only dreamt about.

"I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t," Janeway said, rolling on her back and looking up at the ceiling.

Exhaling, inaudibly, she asked, "But you chose to not pursue your attraction…explain."

"In all reality, Seven, I haven’t been involved with many people…only three, precisely. I was always too busy with work, school, this and that…the timing was always off. And timing is very important when it comes to relationships. It was just never the right time whenever I found myself attracted to those women. They were either just passing through, or I was just passing through…dates got canceled, addresses and names lost…it happens."

"Indeed ‘it’ does," Seven agreed. Then standing, she said, "Thank you again for your assistance, Captain. Unless there is anything else you wish for me to bring when I join you the day after tomorrow, I believe I should return to duty."

"You’re welcome. I enjoyed our conversation…maybe we can continue it in a few days?" Kathryn said taking stock of the items she had packed. "Well, I guess we’ll just have to play it by ear in the entertainment department then. I suppose all you need to bring is your suit, and any change of clothing you need."

"Very well…enjoy your ‘vacation.’"

"Oh I will…that’s a guarantee."

As soon as Seven had left her quarters, Janeway threw herself on her bed, sighing out of relief and agony, equally. "And now I’ve invited her to camp with me…"

"Well, I guess it could be worse? She could be attracted to me…yes, that would definitely be worse. So, now I just have to figure out how to deal with myself. There’s got to be something I can do that will make this time go by easier?"


 

Tossing her stuffed, grey duffel bag over her bare shoulder, resting its moderate weight on her upper back, Captain Kathryn Janeway exited her quarters readying herself to leave her job and her home for at least a week. She wasn’t certain what she was going to do with all of this free time, but she was bound and determined to not think about anything that had to do with raising shields, firing phasers, duty rosters, or replicator rations. For once, she was going to leave all of the crew’s needs in the capable hands of her first officer and just relax by the water. Now only wearing a dark, rustic pair of blue jeans, a simple white tank top, and a straw, cowboy style hat, she smiled to herself as she entered the turbolift. She was certain she wasn’t going to be the first person off the ship considering the lengthy, but wonderful discussion she had with Seven, and the fact that she still had to secure several standard issue survival packs, but she knew that no one would be settled down and starting their vacation quicker than she. Growing up in a small farming community in Bloomington, Indiana, Janeway could put up and break down a campsite faster than anyone she knew, except maybe for her mother. Gretchen Janeway’s skill for all things traditional constantly astounded Janeway, and she knew that if her mother was here with her right now, she be needling her for packing so much stuff. Janeway had grown up as a Traditionalist, but that didn’t mean she didn’t appreciate certain ‘luxuries’ from time to time. The books, fresh clothes, and the bottle of wine stuffed in her bag were absolutely essential for the captain, no matter what her mother would say about them.

Smiling at her revere for her mother, a woman she hadn’t seen in almost seven years, Janeway stepped into the empty carriage of the lift and said, "Engineering." After a quick ride in the turbolift that not only went up and down but also moved horizontally, she stepped out onto the main deck of the ship’s central nervous system, looking around for B’Elanna, who she knew was also officially off-duty. Earlier, she has asked the computer to locate the younger woman, and was not surprised when the computer had informed the captain that she was here, and had not logged off for duty. Not seeing the lieutenant right away, she stepped farther out onto the deck, put down her bag for a moment and glanced around to the other side of the massive warp core. The only person there was Ensign Vorik, a young Vulcan that looked up and announced her presence with a stiff, "Captain on deck," once she came into view.

"As you were, Ensign," Janeway said, wryly. "Where’s the chief?" she asked, looking around, supremely glad that Vorik wasn’t a telepath. After Seven had left the captain filled with unwanted emotions and desperately searching for a distraction from them, she had come up with her current ploy. Of course her inner voice had laughed boisterously at her, telling her that throwing herself into the company of one beautiful woman to forget another was completely asinine, but the captain felt that at least with Torres, she wouldn’t feel like her whole world was spinning out of control. She had known Torres longer, and even though they hadn’t spent a lot of time getting to know each other, she was always fairly comfortable around the feisty Klingon-Human hybrid. Not to mention the fact that at least she didn’t have to constantly answer questions and explain situations while trying to hide her feelings as she always did with Seven of Nine. It wasn’t that the captain disliked being Seven’s mentor back to Humanity, in fact she loved it, but sometimes Seven’s questions hit just a little too close to home for the starship captain. And sometimes, Janeway just liked being in the company of someone who knew when to speak her mind and when to keep her thoughts to herself. Not that the captain had ever let her attraction for Torres show, but she was certain that if B’Elanna suddenly got wind of it, she would simply be flattered and let it go. Having to be on guard all the time as Kathryn was with Seven certainly wore her out, and she was hoping that inviting her engineer along would help her relax and get the most out of this rare opportunity to take a break from her job…as well as keep her mind off of the ship’s resident Borg.

"Lieutenant Torres is in her office, Captain," the Vulcan answered smoothly, resuming his duties.

"Thank you," the captain said, turning around and making her way toward the chief engineer’s small office that was tucked away, practically out of sight. Poking her head around the corner, knocking on the door, she said, softly, hoping not to startle Torres, who had her back to the door, "Have a minute?"

Despite the captain’s attempt to be quiet, Torres jumped slightly at the interruption. Recognizing the complex, sultry voice of her commanding officer, she stifled her easily sparked temper, and spun around in her chair, putting down the PADD she had been contemplating. "Captain, of course…what can I do for you?" Then noticing the captain’s choice of clothing when she finally looked up, she bit back a cackle and amended, "I’m assuming this isn’t ship’s business…eh, cowgirl?"

Ignoring B’Elanna’s teasing, she crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the door, unceremoniously, and said, "Not really…I was curious as to what you were going to do for your vacation since Tom caught the first skeleton duty?" Janeway knew that wasn’t entirely true. Tom had elected to remain on duty for the first two days, despite the fact that B’Elanna, his lover, would be off, but she wasn’t certain if Torres was aware of that, and she certainly didn’t want to cause more problems than there already seemed to be. Even though Janeway thought they were a terrible match, and that it would never work out, it was not her place whatsoever to butt in…not professionally, and not personally. Torres was one of the captain’s closest friends on the ship, even though they had several bumps in the road along the way, she would never presume to make her feelings on the Klingon’s choice of mates unless she was asked…and even then, she would probably beat around the bush as long as she could.

"Captain, would you step out of the doorway, please?" Torres requested, her face turning a ruddy olive.

Realizing that she was keeping the chief from closing the door for privacy, she mumbled apologies and took a seat in the chair in front of Torres’ desk as the door closed behind her. As soon as she heard door seal itself, providing a fair amount of soundproofing, she forced herself not to jump as Torres bounded to her feet ranting and raving, stalking about the small room like some kind of wild, caged animal. Janeway was significantly impressed by the string of vulgarities, Human and Klingon alike, that flew off the woman's surprisingly articulate tongue, considering her ire. Silently Janeway sat and listened to the woman’s heart-felt wrath, all the time wondering how Tom Paris was even still alive. Considering the things he had done to her in the past, and the temper of this woman, Janeway was surprised she hadn’t had to thrown one or both of them in the Brig after the Doctor patched Tom Paris up in Sickbay.

Once the engineer had stopped cursing the very existence of Tom Paris, and finally sat down in a huff of air, and said, sighing, "I’m sorry, Captain…that was probably inappropriate."

"Well," Janeway said, smiling somewhat, but remaining serious, "I’m the one who offered to listen, ‘Lanna…so don’t worry about it, okay?"

Nodding, feeling really childish and foolish in front of the one person she always wanted to put on her best face for, she finally answered the captain’s question. "No, I haven’t really thought about what I was going to do…more like what I wasn’t going to do, but I guess I was just fooling myself. It’s been over for a long time now…and even though we haven’t officially ended anything, I think we both know that now."

"What are you going to do about it?" Kathryn asked softly.

"I guess I’m going to have to tell him it’s over…but I don’t think right now is a good time. I’m not sure I could talk to him civilly right now," Torres responded.

"That’s probably a good idea," Janeway acknowledged. Then leaning forward, resting her elbows on the desk, she said, "Why don’t you log off for duty, grab some things and come with me?" Then smirking, she said, "One thing good about bunking with the captain is that you’re guaranteed to get the best spot in town."

Laughing, she smiled warmly and came back, "Not to mention probably the best company."

Chuckling, she stood and said, "You’re right as usual." Then laughing freely at herself, she asked walking toward the door. "Can you be ready in fifteen minutes?"

"Probably," Torres said, now sitting on the edge of her desk. "What do I need to bring?"

"Bring a few changes of clothing, anything as far as entertainment goes, and a bathing suit. Then meet me in the Cargo Bay so we can pick up our habitat and survival gear."

Ignoring the feeling of embarrassment that was turning in her stomach, knowing that her swimming secret was probably in serious jeopardy, if Janeway had anything to say about it, she nodded her head and said, "Okay…see you there."

Just before she exited the room completely, Janeway turned back around, put on her best, crooked smile, and said, "Oh, and one more thing…you bring the junk food…and I’ll bring the beer."


 

Twenty minutes later, Torres, loaded down with a two duffel bags, one containing clothing, and one containing a portable music player and several food stuffs, marched into the Cargo Bay, still wearing her uniform, sans the tunic. Seeing the captain gathering their habitat and survival gear, Torres put her stuff down and said, "Sorry, I’m late, Captain…took longer than I thought."

"No more apologies today, ‘Lanna," Janeway said, trying to dig through the plethora of cargo containers, looking for the double habitat she knew was somewhere amongst this mess. Then spotting it she said, "Give me a hand, will you?"

Together, the two of them managed to pull out the cargo container and slide it next to the rest of their things, which was quickly becoming much more than Janeway would have ever imagined she would take on a camping trip. However, realizing that this wasn’t just her vacation, and indulging in a few luxuries certainly wouldn’t hurt them, except for maybe their waistlines, she wiped the dust off her hands and said, "Well, I don’t think we’ll be able to carry all of this stuff by ourselves." After grabbing their bags and putting them on top of the cargo container, she tapped her comm-badge, she said, "Janeway to Transporter Room One."

"Roland here, Captain," said the soft, sweet voice of one of the ship’s transporter technicians.

"Ensign, would you please transport Lieutenant Torres, myself and the cargo container next to us to the coordinates I programmed for myself into the database?"

"Certainly, Captain…I’ve got them now…stand by."


 

"How the hell did you find time to pick out this spot?" B’Elanna asked, looking around at the beautiful scenery. The canyon walls were much nearer than the spot they had surveyed earlier, and the smaller space had allowed the river to pool somewhat on one side where it practically slowed to a crawl. The ground was firm, but not rocky, except by the shore, and there were a lot less of the annoying cacti that freckled this section of the planet. Not to mention that it was completely secluded. Her sense of direction told her that the crew’s major gathering area was to her right, but she figured that they were several hundred meters away since she could hear no noise other than the hum of the wind high above their heads and the call of a bird hovering above.

"I caught sight of it when we were waiting to be transporter on the edge of the precipice," Janeway answered, taking their bags off the top of the cargo container and fiddling with the lid. "I’m assuming it meets with your approval?"

"Not bad, Captain," B’Elanna said, walking over to the container and helping the captain pull off the sealed lid.

"Please, not captain," Janeway said, groaning as she fought with the lid. Finally prying it loose, she huffed, "not while we’re out here."

"Alright, cowgirl…what next?" Torres teased.

Rolling her eyes, she said, "We should set up the habitat first. I think we only have a few hours of light left, and if this place is anything like the deserts I’ve been to, it gets awfully cold at night."

"Sounds like a plan," B’Elanna said digging out the first few sides of the retractable emergency/recreational habitat. Then realizing that this one was a double, capable of holding four people fairly comfortably, she asked, "Are we expecting company, or do you just like it roomy?"

"Yes, to both questions," Kathryn answered, pulling out the pins that held the whole thing together. "Seven will be joining us in two days." Then looking over at B’Elanna to gauge her reaction, she asked, "That’s not going to be a problem, is it?"

"No, Cap…Kathryn," Torres answered, honestly, and somewhat relieved that she wasn’t going to have to spend a whole week with this woman who constantly surprised her…and not in a bad way. "Seven and I might not always see eye to eye, but we’ve gotten used to each other. And don’t tell her I said so, but sometimes it’s nice to have her around. You always know where you stand with her…that’s not the case with most people."

"I know exactly what you mean," Janeway said, smiling fondly. "I’m glad you two have found an understanding…it certainly make my job a whole lot easier."

"I thought we weren’t going to talk about work?" teased the brunette.

Sighing, Janeway slid two of the panels together, then locked them in place with a pin and said, "You’re right…I forgot."

Adding two more panels to the ones the captain had assembled, B’Elanna asked, "So, how many more of Voyager’s ‘babe-squad’ are you inviting?"

Aghast, Janeway completely ignored the woman’s not so subtle remark that the captain was creating some kind of make-shift harem, and said, "Just Seven…did you have any one else in mind?"

"Nope," Torres laughed at the captain’s snide look and finished, "I think you’re going to have your hands full just with the two of us as it is."

"Quite right," Janeway chuckled. After finishing the second wall, she said, "Okay, I think we can stand this corner up now. Hold that side up, and I’ll scoot this one over."


 

"There…not bad," Janeway said, patting her comrade on the back and looking at their now freestanding habitat. "How long do you think it took us?"

"I don’t know…why?" Torres asked, wiping her dirty hands off on her trousers that now were a dusty brown instead of a crisp black.

"Just wondering if I had lost my touch," answered the captain, rubbing her bare shoulders to generate heat. Now that they had stopped moving, she noticed that the temperature had dropped several degrees since the plant’s suns fell behind the canyon walls. Still feeling too cold, she grabbed her bag and retrieved a zip-up, cherry red, hooded sweatshirt.

Admiring the view as the captain bent over her bag, again giving the half Klingon a nice shot of her small, but firm bottom, she answered, "Take my word for it…you still go it." Then forcing herself to look away, she went down to the stream and washed the dirt from her hands and face, taking plenty of time to just enjoy being off the ship, and away from Tom… and near the captain. That last thought was starting to become something of a regular occurrence, and she wasn’t certain what was bringing it on. Sometimes she thought it was just because she and Tom were getting along so poorly, so she was trying to find comfort wherever she could. Comfort was something Janeway radiated. It followed her wherever she went. Even when she was mad as hell at someone, they never stopped believing that she would still be there for them at the end of the day, willing to put her life on the line to protect them. Then sometimes she thought that her growing attraction for the captain was simply some kind of authority figure infatuation. Even though B’Elanna tended to not feel comfortable around people who wanted to tell her how to act, she knew that there was a certain amount of attractiveness to someone who exuded such confidence. Confidence was also something Janeway had in droves… "That’s right, ‘Lanna. She’s got confidence, comfort, compassion, intelligence, energy, stamina…beauty…she’s got it all…Kahless, is she ever beautiful…and so out of my league I can’t even see the field. What the hell is the matter with me? She’s the captain…she’s not interested in me…just get over it will you?"

"Penny for your thoughts?" came the captain’s, low, husky, and acutely seductive voice behind her.

Thanking the gods that Janeway wasn’t a telepath, she turned around only to see the captain holding out a beer for her. Laughing, she accepted the offering, held it up and said, "Here’s to getting over it?"

"Here, here," Janeway said, clicking her brown bottle against B’Elanna’s and taking a long pull off the cold stout, keeping her eye’s on Torres to see if she found her selection acceptable.

"Mmm," B’Elanna moaned, then smiled. "You’ve been holding out on me?"

Laughing and taking a seat in the soft sand of the shore, she answered, "If I had know you liked beer, I would have given you the recipe."

"Well, you can’t hold out of my now…fess up, Red."

"Program the replicator to mix equal parts standard Starfleet beer numbers one, five, and seven," answered the captain, smiling openly.

"One, five, seven…right, got it." After taking a hefty swig, she asked, "How did you come up with that?"

"The recipe was my father’s," Janeway said. "He was a beer drinker ‘til the day he died," Janeway said that last part softly, raising her bottle up slightly, toasting her father, wherever he may be.

Realizing that he father’s death was probably not a subject to discuss considering the sudden forlorn look on the captain’s classic features, B’Elanna asked, "So other than beer, and junk food…what do we have to eat around here?"

"Well, that depends…what are you hungry for?"

Ignoring the loaded question, knowing that Kathryn had no idea what she really wanted for dinner…or at least desert, she said, "Meat…definitely meat."

"Alright…then, I guess we’re having meat," Janeway said, getting up and offering a hand to Torres, who accepted it. Pulling her up, amazed at how strong Torres’ forearms were around her hands, she asked, "Do you want anything else with that…or are we sticking to strictly a carnivorous diet?"

"What else can you make?" Torres asked, wiping the sand from her bottom.

"Who says I’m cooking?" Janeway volleyed walking into the habitat, and looking behind her at Torres.

"Oh no," B’Elanna said, sitting down at the small fold up table. "I’m an engineer, remember? If the replicator is broken, I’ll fix it…that’s all I’m good at."

Laughing, she accessed the menu on the portable replicator, and said, "Well, okay…I guess I’ll cook tonight…but I must warn you, you’re probably putting your life in my hands."

"I’m used to it," Torres smiled.

"You’re used to putting your life in my hands…or bad cooking?" Janeway asked, programming her selection.

Taking the final swig of her beer, wishing the replicators produced larger amounts at one time, she answered, "Both…between you casing after Hirogen and Borg Cubes, and Neelix’s, or god forbid, Tom’s cooking…you kind of have to get used to it."

"I guess you’ve got a point," Janeway shot her a mock look of distaste. Finishing her less than adept skills at programming the replicator, she said, "Cross your fingers." Instantly, a plate containing a juicy, and fairly well cooked, steak appeared, as well as what she hoped was a baked potato and a side of baby peas. Handing the plate to Torres, as well as the utensils that appeared alongside it, she programmed the replicator to repeat the same meal. Taking her own plate to the table, she set it down, but did not sit. Walking over to her bag, she dug out the bottle of red wine she had brought. Uncorking it with familiar skill, she ordered two wine glasses from the replicator before she took her place.

"What’s the occasion?" Torres asked, eyeing her food carefully. "Looks and smells good enough?"

"You may be a beer drinker…but I," Janeway said, pouring them each a full glass of her favorite Merlot, "am a wine drinker." Then holding up her glass, she toasted, "Here’s to women who can command starships, keep antimatter contained…but can’t cook worth a darn."

"I’ll drink to that," Torres agreed, tapping her glass to the captain’s and taking a small sip, hoping this wine was better than the others she had tired. Then finding this wine’s flavor sweeter than she expected, she took a bigger one, realizing that it was unlikely that the captain would ever drink cheap wine.

Then both of them set their glasses down and just stared at the food, neither of them wanting to go first. When they both caught on to what they were doing they laughed and reached for their forks…starting with the peas, figuring they were the safest bet.

"Not too bad…" Janeway said, taking the first bite.

Agreeing, Torres’ hunger demanded that she eat something a little more sold, so she cut off a healthy chunk of steak and plopped it in her mouth, not quite knowing what to expect. Other than being somewhat tough and a little bland, it was certainly not the worst thing she’d ever tasted…she had most definitely done much more poorly herself, and it didn’t set her mouth on fire as Neelix’s stuff tended to do. Chewing a few more times, she said, "Not too bad at all…you underestimate yourself."

"Thanks…but I think I just got lucky today," Janeway laughed, enjoying the first meal she had actually put together herself in several months. "You know, ‘Lanna," Janeway said between mouthfuls, "When we get back home, you should come visit my family’s farm in Indiana. There," she paused, taking a sip of wine to wash down a tough piece of the beef, "you’ll get some real home cooking. My mother does that most amazing things in the kitchen."

Looking down at her food, feeling foolishly giddy that the captain would even think to invite her to her family’s home, she said, quietly, "I’d like that…thank you, Kathryn."

A little shocked that Torres had used her name instead of her new found nicknames that probably would have set her teeth on edge if they came from anyone else, she said, realizing that B’Elanna’s attitude had suddenly changed, "Did I say something wrong?"

Torres’ head snapped up quickly in shock and she said, "No…Kahless, no…I…I just don’t know what to say other than thank you." Then looking down again, with equal speed, she focused on her food and ate in silence.

"Okay," Kathryn said, turning her attention back to her food as well, feeling like she too didn’t know what to say now. Content to let the rest of the meal be consumed in silence, Janeway restrained the urge to sigh. When she first thought to invite Torres to her house, it seemed like a perfectly reasonable thing to do, but now…now there was some kind of tension in the air, and Janeway wondered if she was letting herself become a little too familiar with the woman seated across from her. With Torres, it was so easy to get wrapped up in their similar, and sometimes crass, sense of humor, and their mutual enjoyment of solving problems with only seconds to spare as their lives hung in the balance. It was so easy to forget they had a ship to take care of when all they wanted to do was tinker with this and that and see if they could make it work just a little better. "It’s so easy to get lost in that face…" That last thought definitely caught the captain completely off-guard, and dropping her fork she reached for her wine glass, somewhat choking on the thought as she swallowed it down before it bubbled out of her mouth. Coughing fiercely, she stood up and walked over to the replicator and asked for water between coughing fits.

"Hey," B’Elanna said, getting up from the table and bounding over to her, "are you alright?" Rubbing her back, although she never quite understood that instinctual reaction, she waited patiently while the captain recovered.

"Yes," Kathryn said, her voice weak from the attack. "Went down…the wrong…way," she said between breaths. "Thank you."

"You know, you’re supposed to chew your food before you swallow," B’Elanna teased, patting her on the back one last time. "Or didn’t they teach you that on the farm?"

Coughing again and rolling her eyes at B’Elanna’s ever-present wit, she whispered, "I think I’m through with dinner."

Looking at her own practically empty plate, and not feeling hungry now that her body was pumped full of adrenaline, she said picking up the plates as the captain sat down at the table, breathing deeply, "Yea, kind of ruins the mood." After depositing the dishes in the replicator so that the matter could be recycled and used again, she ordered a beer for herself, using the captain’s personal recipe, and a black coffee for the captain, knowing if she didn’t want one this minute, she would soon enough. That was one thing about Kathryn Janeway which was predictable. Wherever the captain was, her trusty mug was never far behind. Taking the cup over to Janeway whose skin had lost its beat red hue now that she was breathing easily, she said, "Here…maybe this will help."

Accepting the gesture happily, Janeway croaked, "Thank you." After taking several sips, ignoring the slight pain the heat caused the tip of her tongue, she said, "Well, that was fun."

"Seems to be the theme for the day," Torres chuckled, enjoying the taste of beer on her lips. "Remind me not to take you to any five star restaurants when we get home."

Kicking at Torres underneath the table, the captain came back, "I’ll remember that the next time you come to my office with plasma residue all over your face." Then standing she said, heading toward the door, "Come on…let’s go outside before it gets too cold to enjoy it."

"I don’t suppose you’ve got a portable campfire in your bag of goodies?" Torres remarked, following the redhead.

"No, but I don’t see why we can’t build one…as long as we clean up the area before we leave," Janeway said, coming to a halt. Then spinning on her heels, her mind flashing with excitement, she set down her coffee, located the wrist lights from their survival packs and went back outside. Handing one to Torres and then strapping hers on her right hand, she announced, "Come on…there’s got to be some brush we can use around here somewhere."

Polishing off her second beer in one final gulp, B’Elanna set her bottle down and donned her wrist light, saying, "You really love this roughing it stuff, don’t you?"

"I’d hardly call portable habitats and replicators roughing it, but yes, I do enjoy it. I guess it reminds me of home," the captain said, making her way away from their campsite. "Don’t you like it?"

"It’s not my favorite thing,’ Torres answered honestly, "but, it certainly beats Vidiian concentration camps and fluidic space."

"Well, I hope so," huffed Janeway, starting down a narrow path the lead between two monstrous, sheer cliffs, making sure she scuffed her boots along the sand to leave a trail, in case they got turned around. The sun was now completely set, and as far as she could see, there was no moonlight, at least not tonight, so within minutes of entering the series of narrow passages that had been carved out of rainwater and wind over the centuries, it was completely dark. "There’s some," she said, noticing a small scattering of dead wood and brush ten meters away.

Gathering an armful, B’Elanna said, "Good, can we go now? This place gives me the creeps…and what is that sound?" Torres growled, looking up.

"That’s the wind," Janeway answered, patting her companion on her back. "I didn’t know you were afraid of the dark, ‘Lanna? I thought Klingons liked it dark?"

"They also like to eat bloodpie and stab people who challenge their honor…but in your case, I’ll make an exception," Torres warned the captain, playfully, knowing the captain certainly was not challenging her honor…nor did she believe she ever would. That just wasn’t Kathryn’s style. If she wanted to make a point, all she had to do was turn that crystalline stare your way. Torres always marveled at how she could accomplish so much with just a single look. She was certain the Empire would do good to learn a thing or two about the fury of silence.

"How flattering," Janeway spat, continuing forward into the caverns. "That won’t last us very long…we’ll go just a little farther, alright?"

"I guess I don’t have much of a choice?" Torres mumbled, quickening her step so she could stay near the captain. It wasn’t a know fact that Torres was afraid of the the dark, but more that she was uncomfortable in tight, dark, unfamiliar places. They always reminded her of the Cardassian prison she had the unfortunate displeasure of staying at in her youth. And she wasn’t afraid to say that the hallowed sound the wind was making as it breezed through the crevice above their heads was downright spooky.

After ten more minutes of gathering all the dead wood and brush they could get their hands on, Janeway and Torres made their way back to their camp without a problem, laughing while the captain reminisced about her early years on the farm most of the way. Once they dug out a shallow pit for the fire and set it ablaze, both were definitely feeling quite relaxed. The captain brought out B’Elanna another beer, a fresh coffee for herself, and a blanket for them to lounge upon. Neither one of them spoke for several minutes, just happy to be free of the confines of their ship and their duties, and to be in each other’s company. It wasn’t until Janeway, who was lying on her back looking up at the stars, chuckled to herself that either of them broke the comfortable silence.

"What?" Torres asked, looking up, trying to see what the captain was laughing at.

"I was just laughing at myself," Janeway admitted. "When I was a child, I used to just hate this stuff…and loathed my parents for forcing me to maintain their Traditionalist ideals…but now…now I find it very satisfying. I’m not sure my mother will know what to make of me when I see her again. I can hear her now… "Who are you, and what have you done with my daughter.’ I guess it’s true what they say…you don’t know what you’re missing until it’s gone."

"Shhhh…" Torres said, placing her hand on the captain’s arm and squeezing it as her shoulders tightened. Whispering, she explained, "Something is up on the ridge over there."

"Where," Janeway said sitting up, abruptly and looking to where B’Elanna was staring. "I don’t see anything."

"There," Torres pointed. When Janeway still didn’t see, she crawled up behind her and pointed over her shoulder. "See it? It looks like some kind of animal. I only see one." Just then, as to make its point, the coyote-like animal raised its head and howled, announcing its presence. Seeing the tension in the captain’s thin shoulders, B’Elanna whispered in her ear, "I wouldn’t worry, Red…I think he just wants to check out the newcomers." Then getting her first good whiff of the captain’s intoxicating aroma, she forced herself not to press her face to the captain’s neck and inhale deeply. Instead, she allowed herself one more smell and then backed away some, knowing that any other movement would ruin both of their vacations quicker that a warp core breach. Although, she did admit, the thought of kissing the captain’s graceful neck by the campfire under the open stars had definite appeal. "Stop it…stop it…stop it! You’re going to drive yourself crazy if you don’t give this up. You are no sooner going to be allowed to kiss the captain than you are going to see Gaul deVec in StoVoKor."

"Just the same…I think maybe we should turn in," Janeway said, supremely relieved that Torres has backed away from her neck. Suddenly feeling entirely too aroused by a member of her crew, just by knowing that the brunette was in such close proximity to her, she pushed herself to her feet, keeping an eye out for anymore animals that she hadn’t noticed. She was more disconcerted with her seemingly irrepressible attraction to B’Elanna than she was with the fact that there were wild animals prancing about in the night keeping tabs on them. The captain had always been intrigued and attracted to the younger engineer from day one, but it wasn’t until fairly recently, probably since B’Elanna and Tom started having so many problems, that she gave her attraction much thought. Most of it was because as a woman, she was truly appalled at the way Tom treated her friend, which set off a reaction in her to somehow make it up to Torres. She knew, of course, that she really couldn’t make up for that kind of hurt, but she had tried in her own way to show B’Elanna that she did deserve to be acknowledged for the bright, wonderful, beautiful woman that she was. However, the plan, somewhere, now seemed to be backfiring on the good captain. Now after really getting to know her, the captain was finding it harder and harder to step away and just let her attraction go back to the level of a distant…very distant admiration. Now the more time she spent with her, the stronger her feelings became…and the stronger her feelings became, the more time she wanted to spend with her. Sighing, suddenly feeling weary and needing some privacy, she excused herself and went into their habitat, knowing B’Elanna would take care of putting out the fire and picking things up.

When she emerged from the small ensuite that sported only a portable waste disposal device, now dressed in a pair of modest, over-sized flannel pajamas, she was surprised to find that B’Elanna had not come in yet. Mildly worried, she poked her head out of the still open door, catching a chill from the now very cool air. When Torres was no where to be found, she stepped out into the darkness, hoping her eyes would adjust quickly and called out, "’Lanna…where are you?"

"Over here," the engineer answered.

From the distance of her voice, Janeway assumed she was over by the river. In her slippers, Janeway made her way toward the water’s edge, curious as to what she was doing in the pitch blackness with god knows what wandering around unseen. "What are you doing?" she asked, somewhat amused.

"Filling the canteen so we can wash up," Torres answered. Her eyes fully adjusted to the dim light, she laughed when she saw what the captain was wearing. "Is that what they were on the farm?"

"Absolutely…standard issue right down to the slippers," Janeway laughed, knowing she probably looked a little ridiculous, but not really caring. She couldn’t very well run around in her silk nightgown in this cold…not to mention the fact that she would feel entirely too naked in her standard sleepwear around the engineer. No, this was much better. She looked childish…she was certain completely unattractive, and that is just how she needed to feel.

Standing up and screwing the lid on the canteen, Torres remarked, walking away, "For some reason, cowgirl, only you could pull that off. One of these days, you’ll have to give me your beauty secrets."

At that moment, Janeway was very happy for the cold air chilling her face, because she knew that the redness it caused was her only saving grace. "Heavens…this isn’t working out at all. Where is Seven when I need her?"


 

While waiting for Torres to finish her absolutions in the bathroom, Janeway used the water to brush her teeth and wash her face, thankful again for the cold, hoping it would mask her still blushing cheeks. As she heard Torres stir on the other side of the habitat, she quickly grabbed her book, and crawled into her cold cot, wishing she would have retrieved a pair of socks from her bag. Not wanting to ask B’Elanna to grab a pair for her, or pay the engineer anymore attention for the rest of the night, fearing that she would say, or God forbid, do something she would regret, she crossed her legs under her where she sat and opened her book, determined to put away all of her thoughts and lose herself in the written word. When Torres emerged from the privacy partition, wearing a pair of formfitting sweatpants and a long sleeved t-shirt that highlighted every bulge of muscle and swell of bosom that the half-Klingon woman had, and there were plenty, Janeway’s heart instantly caught in her throat and she forced herself to avert her eyes.

"Bathroom’s free," Torres said, sitting on the cot and putting on a pair of thick socks.

"Thanks," mumbled the redhead, getting out of the cot and needing to put some space between her and her perky engineer until her pulse relented. After using the facilities and taking a few moments to reprimand herself for being such an ass, she grabbed a pair of socks for her ice cold feet as well and padded into the living area. Torres was now sipping what looked to be hot chocolate and reading a PADD at the table. Curious as to what she was doing, and hoping it would start a conversation that would get her mind out of the gutter, she asked, "What’s that?"

"A message from the world’s biggest asshole," Torres growled through clinched teeth.

Not having to ask to whom she was referring, Janeway said, shocked, "He sent you a message?"

"Not just a message…a letter," fumed Torres, tightening her grip on her mug.

"Oh god," Janeway sighed, sitting down at the table. The conversation certainly had helped to get her mind off Torres’ body, but unfortunately, she feared that it was about to trigger her protective instincts, which also tended to betray her where B’Elanna…and others…were concerned. "Not…that kind of letter?"

Finishing the last line, reading it several times to make sure she wasn’t misinterpreting the meaning, she stood up abruptly, knocking over the chair and growled, "YESSSSSSSSSS!" throwing the PADD across the room.

Closing her eyes as the tiny device ricocheted off the far wall and landed on her cot, relatively unharmed, Janeway didn’t bother trying to console the wild woman knowing there was nothing she could say and also not wanting to get her way. She did, however, grab B’Elanna’s ceramic mug and moved it out of her reach, fearing she would wish to launch that across the room as well.

"That stupid, cowardly, arrogant, little, piss poor excuse for a man!" Torres ranted, storming back and forth, looking for something to take her wrath out on. Finding nothing, since Janeway was doing well to put herself in between the wild woman and any breakables, she continued her terror, pounding her fist into the palm of her hands. "How dare he dishonor me like that! A letter…a fucking letter…Kahless, I knew that man had balls the size of marbles, but Jesus…I can’t believe it. I can’t believe he would dishonor me this way? I should kill him…that’s what I should do. I’ll kill him dead…twice."

Suddenly worried that she could very well be facing a diplomatic nightmare of epic proportions between a Klingon’s right to defend her honor and an individuals right to be a prick, Janeway finally spoke up, leaving her rank in her back pocket for the moment, ready to pull it out at a moment’s notice. "’Lanna, please tell me you aren’t really going to harm him?"

"Oh, I’m gonna do more than harm him…I’m gonna," then spinning around and finally noticing the desperation on the captain’s face, she faltered. Realizing what a terrible position the captain was in, and furious at Tom for putting her in it, she barked, "Goddammit Kathryn…don’t look at me like that! He has dishonored me…this is just as bad as sleeping with someone else without my consent. Don’t you understand what that means? If my mother was here, he’d already be dead. You can’t ask me to not punish him."

"I know I can’t ask you…but I have to anyway." Standing up, but still keeping her distance, she continued, "As your captain, and as your friend, I have to remind you of the consequences you would face if you harmed Mister Paris. You would be confined to the Brig, and then there would be a trial, which I would have to recluse myself from, leaving you in the hands of the commander and Tuvok." Taking a small step forward, she went on, "During the trial, everything that Tom has done to you would be public record, since I’m assuming you would be pleading not-guilty by reason of your right to defend your honor. That letter," Janeway said, pointing to the small device lying on her cot, "everything that he has ever done would need to be brought into evidence if you were to have any hope. Do you really want all of that made public knowledge?"

"I could just plead guilty and live with it," Torres growled between clenched teeth.

"And then what, hmm?" she inquired, throwing a little attitude of her own at the engineer, hoping it would get her attention, but not make the situation worse that it was. "I have to throw you in the Brig for the rest of the trip…or confine you to quarters…where you could never see anybody again?" Still stepping closer, now only a foot step away, she continued her reasoning, cutting back on her sharpness, "You’d never see Chakotay again…or Harry…Seven…me," she said, that last part impossibly quiet. Moving forward still, now directly in front of Torres, looking at her straight in the eye, she finished, "And what about the ship? I’d have to put someone else in charge…someone else would have your office, would use your tools…someone not nearly as qualified. Someone who doesn’t love it like it was her child. All of that would happen, ‘Lanna. All of it. Period."

"You have no idea what you are asking me to do," Torres said, acid free, staring right back at Janeway.

"I do know what I’m asking of you. I don’t want to lose you B’Elanna Torres. I need you. I need your mind…I need your determination. I need your strength and your courage." Taking her hands in hers, she said, "I need these hands to take care of my crew. I need your help to get us home…and I need your friendship along the way. I know what I’m asking of you…and I know how hard this has to be, but I’m asking you, as your captain and as your friend, please don’t do this."

Tears now starting to flow in place of rage, Torres’ Klingon side now taking a back seat to her chaotic Human emotions, she squeezed the captain’s hand and cried, "One of these days, Red, I’m going to learn to say no to you…and then Kahless help us all."

Laughing softly, she reached up and wiped the tears from the brunette’s face and whispered, "Thank you." When more tears started to fall and B’Elanna’s shoulders began to tremble, she wrapped her arms around the engineer and held her tight, somehow knowing that this woman hated to cry just as much as she did. For women that carried the weight of the world on their shoulders, crying just wasn’t something that came easily or was usually welcomed. Whispering nonsense words of comfort over and over again as the amazingly strong, but fragile creature in her arms sobbed silently, Janeway had the urge to drag Paris out on his ass and kick his teeth in. Of course, Janeway wouldn’t admit that to anyone, especially B’Elanna for fear it would give her feelings away and most definitely inflame the Klingon’s abating temper. She would also never tell her that right now she thought what Paris just did was probably the single most cowardly act she had ever witnessed out of a member of her crew, which disappointed her tremendously personally and professionally. She knew she couldn’t hold this against Tom where his job and status were concerned, but that didn’t mean that she had to do him any more favors either. And she swore to herself that she would no longer go as easy on Paris as she normally did because of his circumstances, just for B’Elanna’s honor. If she wouldn’t allow Torres to defend her honor, then by god she was going to do it for her…in her own little way which she knew would be much more difficult for the man to stand up to than out right death.

After several minutes of silence, Torres finally pulled away, wiping her running nose and said, "I think I need a drink."

"Good idea," Janeway said, disengaging from her engineer and walking up to the replicator. Ordering a beer for the Klingon and a whiskey and soda for herself, she sat down on her cot, patting the seat next to her to inform Torres that she could sit down with her if she wanted.

Torres took the beer, chugging it to half in one gulp and then sat, leaving very little room between her and the captain. Still sniffling, she eyed the bottle and said, "Thank you…for talking some sense into me. You’re right…it would have done me or anyone else any good to beat that asshole to a bloody pulp."

"What are you going to do?" asked Janeway, sincerely worried for Torres’ feelings and not giving a damn about Tom Paris, now that she knew Torres wouldn’t harm him. She knew B’Elanna wasn’t someone to go back on her word once she had given it, so she had no fear that she would suddenly change her mind once she saw him and rip out his spine…or something equally as gruesome.

"He’s off-duty the day after tomorrow…so I guess, I’ll just have to go track him down and tell him where he can shove his letter," Torres said, taking another healthy drink, although not as drastic as the previous one.

Realizing she hadn’t even touched hers, Janeway brought the amber libation to her lips and sipped on it lightly, not really wanting it, but deciding that she should share a drink with her friend during this trying moment. "Do you think you can wait that long?"

"I think it’s probably best if I do…it will give me time to figure out what I’m going to say without sinking down to his level or without throwing ever foul word known to man at him instead. No, I can wait…it’s best to just wait until he’s not off-duty and we can have some privacy."

Nodding quickly, Janeway remained quiet for a few moments rolling the warm, alcohol around her mouth as she chewed on the situation. "Well, I know that I can’t expect you to be cheerful, but I promise to do whatever I can to make tomorrow go by as smoothly as possible," Janeway promised, putting her hand on the Klingon’s thigh and caressing it gently.

Not quite in control of all of her faculties due to the stress and the alcohol, B’Elanna took a hold of the captain’s hand, entwined her fingers tightly and said, "Thank you, cowgirl."

Feeling emotional as she realized her bond with B’Elanna had quickly deepened, she whispered, her eyes starting to shine as she held back her own tears, "Are you going to...insist…on calling me that?"

Letting Janeway’s hand go, reluctantly, she said, their antagonistic, but friendly banter returning, "It’s either that, or Red…take your pick."

"What’s wrong with Kathryn?" Janeway questioned, elbowing her softly, then wiping her eyes when Torres looked away.

"Nothing…it’s too easy to get used to though," the engineer explained. Then realizing that was probably giving too much away, she amended with haste, "Kathryn sounds too much like Captain. If I get used to calling you Kathryn, then I’ll start forgetting once we’re back aboard Voyager…like Chakotay does," B’Elanna explained, pushing herself off from the bed and sealing the habitat closed for the night.

"I don’t mind that Chakotay calls me Kathryn…do you think it bothers the crew?" Janeway asked, suddenly concerned that she missed something along the way.

"No, but I’m not Chakotay," Torres explained further, making her way over to her cot, needing to lie down and put some distance between herself and Kathryn. "I’m not saying that people would start hating me…but let’s just say that I don’t need to give anyone any ammunition. Plus, I like cowgirl, Red…it suits you out here."

Rolling her eyes, giving in and not letting on that a part of her loved her new pet names, she said, getting under the covers after lowering the lights to almost none, "Well, considering your mouth…I guess there are worse things you could call me?"

"Goddamn right," Torres said, turning away from Kathryn, smiling. After Janeway stopped laughing, she said softly as the comfort of sleep called out to her, "Good night, cowgirl."

"Sweet dreams, ‘Lanna."


 

Kathryn Janeway awoke with a sharp intake of cool air, automatically stretching her arms far above her head, expecting there to be plenty of clearance for her luxurious stretch. Forgetting she was sleeping on a cot that wasn’t nearly as roomy as her double bed, her knuckles impacted solidly against the side of the habit as she yawned. Opening her eyes, retracting her arms immediately, it took her a few seconds to remember where she was. Then yawning quietly again, remembering that she wasn’t alone, Kathryn pushed herself up onto her shoulder, peeking over the table at her roommate. Thankfully, the habitat’s walls were fairly padded on the inside, so she hadn’t disturbed B’Elanna Torres’ slumber. Feeling completely energized now that she knew she didn’t have to go put on her uniform and head to the Bridge, Janeway threw the covers off her legs, and stood up into a full body stretch. Feeling the morning chill that still hung in the air, Janeway went over to the replicator and programmed the device to produce a large cup of black coffee. Retrieving her beloved beverage from the iridescent energy grid, she brought the steaming cup to her curved lips enjoying the taste of the coffee much more so this morning. There was just something about camping that heightened all of her senses. Putting on her slippers, curious as to how the weather was outside, Janeway disengaged the security seal on the habitat and opened the small door just enough so she could take a peak. Practically blinded by the planet’s bright suns, she quickly squeezed soundlessly through the door, shutting it behind her, bringing her hand up to shield her level, blue-grey eyes as they adjusted to the light.

It was a perfect day.

The captain knew that the once the suns rose to their full glory it would get much warmer than she would prefer, but she wasn’t going to complain…not when she had a beautiful, cool river to lounge in all day to keep herself from over heating. Sipping her coffee as she took a quick look around the habitat, more out of habit for checking up on things than need, she decided that she should take this quiet time to take a walk and see how the rest of her crew was getting along before Torres woke up. Janeway had no idea what kind of person B’Elanna was in the morning…especially a morning after such a difficult night. Worried that she was soon going to have to put on a happy face and ignore the younger woman’s foul mood, something she couldn’t hold against her, all things considering, the captain slipped silently back into the habitat and threw on her jeans, a clean t-shirt, her hiking boots, and her cowboy style, straw hat. Downing the last of her coffee in a gulp, she left B’Elanna where she lay and started down river, staying close to the shore, enjoying the way the light played off of smooth ripples of the water.

After less than ten minutes, Janeway rounded a wide bend and spotted the crew’s base-camp. For security purposes, the crew had been ordered to set up their individual campsites within half a kilometer of the base-camp. Janeway’s private little cove was almost a full kilometer away from anyone else, but she was the captain, so fortunately, there were some rules that she didn’t have to abide by. Smelling the unmistakable aroma of coffee…and bacon, she thought, she wasn’t at all surprised to see Chakotay hovering over a small fire pit, just off to the side of the large awning. Picking up a pebble at her feet, she chucked it at him, knowing she wouldn’t harm him if she happened to hit him. When he looked up from what he was doing after the rock skidded by his feet, she waved happily, hand far above her head. Then smiling brighter as she saw him laugh at her, she said once she was within normal speaking distance, "Mornin’."

"Nice hat," he chuckled, poking at the fire with a stick, spreading out the red-hot coals.

"Shut up," Janeway schooled, slapping his shoulder. Then looking around, not seeing anyone else, despite the large number of single capacity habitats scattered liberally around this wide, flat section of the canyon, she asked, "Where is everyone?"

"Sleeping off last night’s party," Chakotay said, taking and old-fashioned percolator off the fire. Then pouring a cup for the captain before he retrieved one for himself, he continued, "You missed quite a blowout…one for the books."

"Thank you," she said, readily accepting the homemade coffee. "That good, huh? I must have picked a good spot because I didn’t hear a thing."

"Where are you at anyway?" he asked, taking up a spot to her left, keeping an eye on the bacon frying on the griddle.

"About ten minutes that way," answered the captain, nodding in the general direction with her auburn kissed head.

"Having fun?"

"Mmm," she nodded, drinking. "Chakotay, this is fantastic…thank you."

Laughing at the captain’s neverending taste for coffee, he nodded and then asked, turning the hefty strips of bacon with a spatula, "Want to stay for breakfast…there’s plenty?"

"No…but thank you. I should be getting back before B’Elanna wakes up," Janeway said, looking over her shoulder as Harry Kim stumbled out of his habitat looking more than a little green. Waving at him as he looked around, shielding his eyes, she laughed and said, "Harry looks like he enjoyed himself last night."

"I was wondering where she took off to," Chakotay said, laughing as the young ensign wobbled toward them. "She okay?" he asked.

Eyeing Chakotay over the rim of her mug, trying to see if he knew as much as he seemed to, she said, non-committed, "You know, B’Elanna…she’s tough."

Nodding, understanding that the captain didn’t feel comfortable talking about this with him, figuring she felt that she was breaking some kind of trust she had with the brunette, he let the line of questioning go, and poured another cup of coffee for Harry, who was just now joining the group. "Ensign, fantastic day, isn’t it?"

"Yea," Harry groaned, grabbing the coffee and bringing it to his lips without any further preamble.

Chuckling, Janeway patted him on the back saying, "Heard I missed quiet a party, Harry?"

"Yes, Ma’am," Kim said, taking a few, long breaths as his stomach turned, "Too good." Holding his stomach and turning ghostly pale, "Excuse me, Captain," he murmured quickly, making tracks back toward his habitat.

"You think it was the coffee?" Chakotay asked, sarcastically, taking the bacon off the fire.

Before Janeway had a chance to make a witty comment about their Operations officer’s over indulgence, Janeway jumped just slightly when she heard over her shoulder, "Captain! Captain!" Kathryn’s lovely smile widened even more as she spun around to greet the youngest member of her crew who was making tracks toward the captain as fast as her small legs would carry her.

"Good morning, Miss Wildman," Janeway said, sweetly, knowing that the youngster loved it when she referred to her in such professional terms. In all actuality, the captain would rather call Naomi every sugar coated nickname she could think of while she carried her around in her arms, but the smile that her diplomatic named produced was worth stifling her selfish desire to coddle the small, carrot top.

"Good morning, Captain," Naomi said, taking the captain’s hand. Then looking up, she squealed, rapidly, "That’s a neat hat! Isn’t this fun? I’ve never been camping before! When’s Seven coming?"

"She’ll be down sometime tomorrow," the captain said, taking off her hat and putting it on the young girl’s head. "There…now you’re officially camping."

"Mommy!" Naomi screamed, leaving the captain and running over to her mother who was making her way toward the small group. "Look what the captain gave me…isn’t it neat!"

"That was very nice of the captain, sweetheart…did you thank her?" Samantha Wildman, the young girl’s mother asked her daughter.

Running back over to the captain, Naomi said, "Thank you, Captain."

"You’re very welcome…every real cowgirl has one, you know," Janeway laughed, more to herself, fondly remembering the thrill she got when B’Elanna referred to her as such.

"Mommy, the captain says I’m a real cowgirl now!" Naomi shouted, skipping around the tent gleefully. Naomi didn’t really know what a cowgirl was, but if it was something that the captain thought she should be, then the young girl was more than happy to be just that, and to the best of her abilities.

"Shhhh," Samantha said, "not so loud, Naomi…there are still people sleeping." Then smiling, the blonde woman turned to the captain and said, "Thank you, Captain…I’ll make sure she returns it when we get back to the ship."

Waving the need off, Janeway replied, "Please, let her keep it. I’ll have Seven bring me another one when she gets off-duty." Then before Samantha had a chance to protest or thank her again she said, "Well all, I better get going…thanks for the coffee, Commander. Bye, bye, Naomi…take care of everyone while I’m gone."

"You can count of me, Ma’am," said the girl, swinging around one of the polls that held up the large tent.

"Have fun, Kathryn," Chakotay said, waving goodbye.

Shaking one finger in the air as she departed, she said with her back to them, "Won’t be a problem."

After rounding the bend, Kathryn forced herself to slow her pace, realizing that she was so used to zipping around her ship at practically the speed of light, she had almost forgot how to stroll. Picking up a few rocks that were by the shore, she took the opportunity to skip them across the water with remembered skill as she thought about the woman waiting for her just up the river. Before she plopped herself on a large rock, she gathered up a few more stones, rolling them around her right hand to help her think.

Sighing, she arched one across the river watching it plop slightly into the current. "Kathryn," she whispered to herself, "you’ve really done it this time." Sending another stone skidding across the water, she continued, "This is really ridiculous. I don’t even know why I’m even thinking about it…it’s just nonsense. This isn’t like me…I don’t get wrapped up in members of my crew. I’m the captain." Hopping down from the rock, feeling the need to keep moving, she continued talking to herself, except not orating audibly any longer. "B’Elanna is a member of my crew. She respects me as her leader…and as her friend. It’s not right for me to feel this way. It simply just can’t be any other way…no matter what. I’ve just got to get over it. I’m the captain…that means I’m not involved. Period."

"But what about Seven?" her little voice reminded her…not letting her forget that there was more than one woman in her life that stirred these feelings inside her, something that was completely new and confusing for the dauntless captain. But she knew she just couldn’t dismiss the feelings she had for Seven any easier than she could her feelings for B’Elanna because they were just as strong…but so completely different…and so totally the same, which utterly confounded Janeway. Kathryn couldn’t put her finger on why exactly, but somehow she just knew that if circumstances were different, she could allow herself to fall in love with both of them…and love them both with equal fury. Maybe it was because they really were at opposite poles? Torres was a great force of unyielding, raw emotion…and there was so much power in her at those reckless moments where it boiled up in her, unbidden, that sometimes all Janeway could do was watch in awe. It was heady, dynamic…a complete earthly experience just to watch her be. She brought it to everything she did…her work, her laughter, her jokes, her tears, her rage…and even though she had nothing to go on…she fantasized that she brought that same heart-pounding will with her in love. And her beauty…she was so beautiful. Stocky but fit, muscled…always looking like a time bomb ready to go off…electric.

And then there was Seven.

"Seven of Nine," Janeway sighed, chucking the last of her stones into the river, now meandering in a crooked line along the shore. Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix 01 was nothing like that, but she was just as hypnotic. She was as cool as an arctic glacier, and had the ability to change the very ground beneath the captain’s feet just with her presence. She was confident, exact, defiant…demanding. And strong, but didn’t wield her strength with brute force, like B’Elanna. Even though Janeway knew she could probably break her in half if she wanted to…the captain was aware that Seven’s true strength was her intelligence. She was so sharp….astounding, and not just because of her time with the Collective. She had an inherent intelligence that most people never even came close to matching. She was graceful…like a dancer when she worked. Each movement fluid and precise…so different from when Janeway had first watched her jar around like a robot. Now she moved like the current of this river. She flowed and ebbed yet always pressed forward with unstoppable determination. No one could stop her when she wanted something. And beautiful…Janeway would have thought she was some kind of living goddess if it weren’t for the steel implants what kept her human…and only made her even more extraordinary…divine.

Thankfully, for the captain, she knew she would never have to choose between these two women…neither one of them would ever be hers…at least not until they reached the Alpha Quadrant, and by that time, Janeway knew that it would probably be too late for many reasons she most certainly did not want to think about right now. "Kate…just, please, get over it, will you?"

Nodding and stuffing her feelings deep down inside her heart where she would just keep them locked up forever if need be, she picked up her pace again as the camp came into view. Not surprised, when poking her head through the door to find Torres still sleeping soundly, her mirthy eyes crinkled with endearment as she heard the distinct sound of Torres snoring. Leaving the door open to let some warm air into the chill of the habitat, Janeway went over to the replicator to avail herself to one more cup of coffee. Pressing the sensor strips on the replicator, Janeway cursed under her breath when the device produced a bowl of soup. Recycling the meal and trying again, she sighed when this time she got an orange and a steak knife instead.

"Are you trying to make me cranky?" Janeway hissed at the device, half expecting it to answer by dumping a full cup of coffee on the floor at her feet as the replicator in her office tended to do whenever something wasn’t quite right with it. When nothing happened, she turned the device around and pulled off the back panel, hoping her fairly proficient skills as a jack of all trades would allow her to fix the device before she woke B’Elanna with her tinkering. "Dammit," she said a little louder than she had intended with she was mildly zapped by the replicator’s power supply.

"Huh?" Torres murmured, stirring, groggy. Then opening her burnt, chestnut eyes to she Kathryn sucking on her finger and frowning as she peered into the back of the replicator, she smiled, somewhat and asked, "What did you do this time?"

Looking up, not realizing that she had woken her roommate, Janeway forced herself not to stare at B’Elanna who looked absolutely adorable with her hair and clothes all rumbled, much like she did after crawling out of a Jefferies Tube, and said, "I didn’t mean to wake you…the damned replicator’s broken."

Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Torres asked, "What happened?"

"I tried to get a cup of coffee," Janeway scowled, "and I got these…" displaying the products.

"Sounds like the sensor grid is out of alignment…let me have a look at it," replied Torres, pushing herself off her cot, grunting, and padding over to the where the captain was.

"That’s what I thought…but I can’t shut off the power supply to get to the sensor node," explained the captain, stepping out of the way so the expert could work her magic. Although, as the captain of a starship, Janeway was more than capable of doing it herself…with the right tools at her disposal. Since they had none, Janeway assumed Torres had a trick or two up her sleeve that Janeway wasn’t privy to.

"My toolkit is in my bag," Torres said, over her shoulder, "will you go get it?"

"You brought your tools?" Janeway laughed, doing as she was asked, now not feeling completely ignorant. A little uneasy about rummaging through B’Elanna’s personal things, she used her hands, rather than her eyes to search the small duffel full of wrinkled clothes and under garments, until her hands made purchase on a small, hard case.

"Never leave home without it," Torres came back, taking the case from her captain. Opening it up and pulling out her trusty spanner, she efficiently shut off the power grid, then using her tool, she reset the sensor node to default, hoping that wouldn’t take any of their selections away. Then reinitializing the device, she put the cover back on, and ordered two black coffees. When what she ordered was exactly what was produced, she smiled and handed one of the cups to Janeway, saying, "And Torres said, ‘Let them drink coffee.’"

"Hallelujah," Janeway replied, taking the cup, and scooting her chair over so Torres could sit down without being cramped. "Sleep well?" Janeway asked, eyeing her closely over the rim of her cup.

"Actually, yes," answered B’Elanna, carefully sipping the hot beverage, always amazed at how Janeway could take such big gulps of it almost immediately. "I didn’t snore…did I?"

Laughing, Janeway fibbed, leaning back in her chair, "Not that I noticed," not wanting to do anything to embarrass Torres right now. She looked like she was completely comfortable, but Janeway knew her well enough to see that there was a part of her that was still chewing on Tom’s letter.

"What time is it?"

Shrugging, Janeway smirked and said, "I have no idea…and honestly, I don’t care."

"Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter…but I feel like I slept for days." Then feeling her stomach growl, she inquired, "So what’s for breakfast?"

"Oh no you don’t," Janeway waved her finger. "I cooked last night…it’s your turn."

"Sorry, Red. I just fix’em, remember?" she came back, holding up the coffee.

Pursing her lips and narrowing her yes, Janeway gave in, knowing she was probably not going to win this battle with any ease, and said, "Fine…how does cereal and toast sound? Now that…even I can’t screw up."

"You’re the boss…I just work here. Hey," the feisty engineer said, looking around, noticing something was missing, "where’s your hat?"

Far too flattered that B’Elanna would even notice, Janeway quickly turned her back on the younger woman and said, "I gave it to Naomi when I visited the other camp this morning."

"Oh," Torres allowed. Then recovering, trying not to let her disappointment show, she asked, quickly, "How long have you been up?"

"Maybe an hour," answered the captain, programming the replicator. Then taking the two cereal bowls out of the energy grid and placing them on the table, she went back to fetch the toast and asked, "Do you want jam on the toast?"

"Grape," Torres said, digging into the cereal before it got soggy, hoping Janeway wouldn’t think she was completely uncouth.

"Grape!" Janeway cringed, clearly not liking that flavor. Then programming two slices of toast with grape preserves, and two slices with raspberry, for herself, she brought those over to the small table, taking her seat.

"Thanks," Torres said, taking a slice of toast, ignoring the captain’s distaste for her choice.

After several minutes of silence, both of them hungry and just happy to eat and remain quite while they did so, Janeway put her spoon down, grabbed her coffee cup and asked, "So, any idea what you want to do today?"

"I don’t know…what’s there to do out here?"

"We could go for a walk?" suggested the captain. Even though she had already been on a lengthy one earlier, she really didn’t mind the idea of going on another one.

"No…I’m not really up for socializing," Torres said, knowing Janeway would understand that present company was certainly not included in that statement.

"Alright, we could go swimming then?"

Figuring she was going to have to fess up sooner or later, but not wanting to do it now, she replied, "Maybe tomorrow…what else?"

A little stymied, but determined to find something that B’Elanna would enjoy that could keep her mind off of her helmsman, she perked up and said, "We could fish?"

"Hey…now that is something I know how to do," said Torres, finishing the last piece of toast. Then thinking it over, she stated, "Only one problem…no rods."

"Oh ye of little faith," Janeway smirked, wiping her mouth with a napkin and removing herself from the table. Pulling out their survival packs, she produced two, razor thin, silver, retractable fishing poles. They were archaic to say the least, but they would have to do.

Laughing heartily, Torres bellowed, "You never cease to amaze me, cowgirl." Then grabbing one the rods from the captain and testing it out, she said, "Well, hopefully they’ll only be little fish in the river…I don’t think this thing could handle anything heavier than my shoe."

"You’d be surprised," the older woman noted, clearing the table.

"What about bait," queried Torres, finishing the last of her coffee and handing the mug to Janeway so it could be recycled.

"Why don’t you go put on some clothes and let the professionals handle the rest, huh?"

"Aye, Captain," Torres said, flippantly, scurrying off into the ensuite. Once Janeway knew she had some privacy, she went back there herself and replaced her jeans with a pair of dark green cotton shorts. After switching her hiking boots for a pair of river sandals that had a thick, heavily treaded, rubber soles, she went back to the replicator and ordered a block of soft cheese, figuring that was about as close as they were going to come to bait. Next she replicated a plastic bag to keep it fresh in, a few pieces of fruit and some crackers. Sticking the goods in the small back pack, along with the fishing poles, her sunscreen, sunglasses, a tricorder, and the canteen, she threw the lightweight pack over one shoulder and went outside to wait for B’Elanna.


 

"I thought you said you knew how to fish?" Janeway teased, laughing at the brunette who was fighting to untangle the ultra-thin line from a piece of driftwood that was lodged against the large boulder they were sitting on.

"I don’t see you doing much better, ya know," Torres growled, finally pulling the line free from the debris.

"At least I haven’t caught everything else except the fish," Janeway snorted, ducking as the hook on B’Elanna’s pole flew by her head. "This really isn’t the best spot, though," stated the captain, taking off her sunglasses and peering over to the other side of the river. "Over there, under those trees…that’s the spot. Nice and shady…come on…let go over there."

"Huh?" Torres said, eyes growing wider by the second as the captain hopped down from the rock, backpack in tow and started for the water.

Putting their rations on her back and taking a few, tentative steps into the cool water, finding it totally refreshing and not the least bit abrupt, she waved over her shoulder, "Come on, ‘Lanna…you want to catch fish, don’t you?"

"I don’t think this is a good idea," Torres said, getting down off the rock, but not going in the water past her ankles. "You don’t know how deep it is…you could get swept away."

"Nonsense…the tricorder said it’s barely a meter deep," Janeway said, now up to her thighs in the water. "I’ll go first, and if the current is too strong, you can pull me back," she explained still moving forward, now almost to her waist in the crystal water.

Clenching her teeth, she said quickly before the captain got too far out, "Kathryn…please, stop!"

The use of her real name definitely got the redhead’s attention. Turning around, confused, she asked, "What’s wrong?"

"Don’t go any farther!" Then sighing, knowing there was no way out but straight ahead, she continued, "If you got in trouble, I wouldn’t be able to help you…because," almost spiting the words now, out of embarrassment, "because…Icantswim."

"Oh," said the other woman, quietly. Wading back into the shore quickly, she asked, "Why didn’t you just tell me?"

"It’s embarrassing," Torres said, looking away and kicking at the ground with her feet.

"I’m sorry," Janeway apologized sincerely, completely out of the water now. Then softly, she asked, "Do you want to learn? I’m an awfully good teacher."

Smiling, not feeling quite as bad as she thought she would saying that, she responded, "But I’m not a very good student."

Chuckling, Janeway patted her on the back and remarked, "Well, if you change your mind once Seven’s lessons begin, all you have to do is join in." Then leaving the conversation there, knowing Torres would make up her mind on her own, she said, "Well, how about we look for a better spot up the river some then?"

"Deal," said the brunette, letting go of her embarrassment, at least with Janeway and starting up the river.

After a twenty minute slow walk up the river, they settled on a fairly decent shady spot at a deeper part of the river. Both of them loaded up their hooks with cheese, taking a few pieces for themselves and tossed their lines in the river, not really expecting to catch anything put hopeful that they might get lucky. The river and the scenery were so still around them that when B’Elanna got her first nibble, she practically fell off the rock they were sitting on with surprise. Recovering fairly efficiently, ignoring the captain who was holding her sides laughing at her antics, she steadied the pole, lifting the tip just slightly to test if the fish was still present. When she felt the slightest resistance, she pulled up just a hair more, hoping to entice the fish to take a nice big bite before the food got away. Just as she had hoped, the line began to quake steadily. Using her senses, remembering what her father had told her, she jerked up on the rod, knowing she had snared the fish. In a trice, the tip of the poll curved downward as the fish tried to run with the bait, and since they didn’t have a reel, only a pole with a line attached the end, she hoped of the rock, howling in success, and dragged the line slowly to the shore, not wanting to fight the fish too much for fear the line or the pole would snap.

When the fish jumped out of the water, finally showing itself, Janeway clapped her hands, and said, "Bravo!"

Grabbing a hold of the slippery fish firmly with one hand, while pulling the hook out of the lip with her other, she said, "Bigger than I thought it was. Throw me the stringer, will you?" she asked, now grasping the fish with both hands as it started to squirm more violently.

Janeway pulled her line in, hoped of the rock, grabbing her tricorder and the stinger. Scanning the fish first to make certain it would be safe for them to consume, she handed the stringer to the younger woman once the animal checked out. "Get two more like that…and we’ll eat like queens tonight."

Looping the device through the fishes gills and then driving the stake in to the ground, near the shore, she said, tossing the fish back in the water to keep it fresh, "That’s assuming they don’t taste like shit."

"True," acknowledged the captain, snickering and shaking her head as she climbed back on the rock. Once she was situated, she tossed her line in again, and B’Elanna joined her. "You know what?" Janeway said, looking over at her engineer.

"What?" asked B’Elanna, stuffing a cracker in her mouth.

"I’m really glad you came along," Janeway smiled, sincerely, her blue eyes twinkling with truth. "I mean…I’m sorry about the circumstances of how you ended up here, but I’m glad to be reaping the benefits. I don’t think I would be having nearly as much fun without you."

Feeling suddenly severely shy, she changed gears, just a little, and replied, "I’m not sorry about the circumstances…not any more. It was time to move on. I just wish we could have talked about it instead of how it happened." Then knowing that she should tell Kathryn that she was enjoying herself as well, she finished, "and, I’m glad that I had an alternative…a much better one at that."

Just when Kathryn was about to respond, she felt a sizable tug on her line. Snapping into action immediately as the fish gnawed at the cheese, she yanked up on her line and slid down off the rock, B’Elanna right behind her. Keeping a firm grip on the silver pole as she reached out with her other hand to grasp onto the line, she was just about to ask for B’Elanna’s help since the fish was fighting drastically, bending the pole, when she saw B’Elanna running into the water, practically pouncing on the fish. Kathryn watched in astonishment and joy as B’Elanna grabbed the line, reached down and nabbed the fat fish, bringing it to the surface shouting, "Kahless, Red…look at that thing!"

Surprised at the girth of the fish, she said wading into the water, putting some slack on the line as B’Elanna dislodged the hook, "Guess the poles are stronger than we thought?" Letting B’Elanna take care of stinging it, she set her pole down and said, wiping the sweat from her brow, "Well, I guess we don’t have to worry about having enough to eat now."

"Heck no…that’s a monster…did you spike the cheese or something?"

Wading out into the water, feeling it was time to take a dip to cool off, she said, raising her hand and wiggling it about, "It’s all in the wrist, my friend." This area of the river being much deeper, Janeway stayed close to the shore, worried that if she went out too far, the current would be stronger than she could swim against. Taking a breath, she let herself sink onto her back and then all the way under the water. The cool, clean river felt wonderful on her baking body, and after wiping the water from her face, she allowed herself to fall back again on her back and just float lazily.

And B’Elanna couldn’t keep her eyes off of her this time.

"Kahless…look at her. How am I going to get through this week without making a complete and utter fool out of myself? Why does she always have to be so perfect? ’Lanna, cool down…just cool it down. This is craziness. She’s the captain…she’s your friend…don’t fuck it up. Right." Pushing out the thoughts, needing to deter them with conversation, she asked, "How’s the water?"

"It’s perfect," Janeway sighed, still floating on her back, but turning towards Torres. A huge part of Kathryn wished for her chief’s company for several reasons, not all of them entirely chaste, but she knew she shouldn’t push B’Elanna to join her. So instead of prolonging the agony of swimming alone, no matter how wonderful it felt, she let her legs sink down. Standing upright, ringing the water from her hair, she waded into the shore, saying, "I don’t know about you…but I could use something cool to drink. Wanna head back?"

"Yea," said Torres, purposefully avoiding all direct eye-contact with Kathryn. When the captain had first stood up from the water, it was plainly obvious that she had nothing underneath her light colored t-shirt and the sight of the captain’s small, but firm breasts that were on clear display through the clinging material was enough to send serious bolts of excitement zipping throughout the Klingon’s body. Snatching up the fish and the backpack, Torres waited patiently while Kathryn rang out the water from her shirt and shorts before she started for their camp, knowing that taking off ahead of her would only give her away more than she figured her silence was doing.


 

Emerging from the small ensuite tucked away toward the back of the double capacity habitat, wearing her bathing suit, and a sheer wrap around skirt that did very little to cover her body, but did a lot in the name of ‘fashion’ Janeway raised her eyebrows as she heard a steady bass thumping, just outside the door. Before she went to investigate what her comrade was up to, the captain ordered a tumbler of ice tea, with a twist of lemon. Then remembering her sunscreen, she snatched the small bottle out of the survival pack B’Elanna had left on the floor by the door. Carrying her tea in one hand and the sunscreen in the other, she poked her head out the door and couldn’t help but laugh lightly in amusement as her engineer demonstrated her rock star antics as she set up her portable music player. Clearing her throat to announce her presence, she said, softly, but over the music walking out into the beating rays of the planet’s dual suns, "Another thing I didn’t know about you…but should’ve guessed."

"Huh?" Torres said, spinning around, knowing she probably looked ridiculous, but not really caring anymore. There seemed to be so many wrong things happening lately that all of the sudden shaking her butt to rock and roll, in front of the captain, seemed perfectly natural. Then realizing what the captain was referring to, she said, not turning down the music purposefully, testing just how much the redhead would tolerate out of her, "Oh, the music…yea…I like rock. Not your speed, cowgirl?"

"I’m more of a jazz, blues person, really, but I don’t mind it," Kathryn answered, setting down her tea so she could put on the sunscreen before she shoulders were totally baked. "Who’s this?" she asked, dabbing small drops of the ointment along her left arm.

"Lenny Kravitz," Torres replied, taking a sip of the beer she had replicated for herself while the captain was changing. "Planning on swimming again?"

"As often as possible…I love the water," said the captain, now rubbing the lotion on her right arm. "Kravitz…I think I’ve heard of him."

"He was one of the best…they don’t make music like this anymore," Torres said. Feeling brave, she took the sunscreen from the captain’s hand and eased in behind her, singing along to the music. Putting a good deal of the white sunscreen in her hand, she applied a bit to the captain’s shoulder and back before she started to rub it in.

If Janeway was surprised, excited, or even shocked by Torres’ forwardness, she did very well not to show it, and said, allowing the brunette to massage her shoulders as she applied the lotion, "You have a lovely voice, ‘Lanna." Then feeling slightly ashamed, having known the woman for almost seven years, she finished, quietly, "There seems to be so much I don’t know about you."

"Unfortunately," B’Elanna said, moving her hands firmly over the captain’s bare back, making sure the press firmly into the pressure points, "I think the captain probably wouldn’t approve of her chief engineer blasting rock and roll on duty."

Chuckling, Janeway said, "No, I don’t suppose she would."

Now back up to the captain’s neck, massaging it now more than applying the sunscreen, she said, "She tends to be a stickler for Starfleet protocol." Resisting the urge to rub her hands down Janeway’s arms, knowing they were already adequately coated, she released the captain, patted her lightly on the back and went back to her beverage.

"I’m sure she has her reasons," Janeway came back, smiling crookedly.

"Probably," Torres teased, grabbing her beer and walking away, doing a little dance as the music picked up. Once she was to the shore, she gathered up a few stones that were scattered about the shoreline and began tossing them into the water singing along to the music. "You really are crazy, Torres…"

Watching her crewman dance and sing as she tossed the stones in the river, Janeway took a seat on the blanket Torres had kindly laid out for them, availing herself to the iced tea and the view before her. It truly warmed her heart to see B’Elanna like this…even when she knew that most of it was probably just her trying not to get bogged down in the recent day’s troubling events. She was amazed that she could remain so seemingly upbeat despite what was happening to her. She knew that inside she was probably aching with hurt…it was only to be expected when an almost three year romance, troublesome as it was, came to an end. But there she was, dancing, singing…looking as though nothing was amiss. Since Janeway knew very well how tough it was to put on such a show, she was duly impressed. It took more than will alone to do that. It took strength, guts, pride, determination…and heart to be such a fine actress. The captain knew that wasn’t always to most emotionally healthy way to live ones life, however, she also knew that it was absolutely necessary for women like them. "Never let’em see you cry, Katie," she thought to herself, remembering her father’s words. "Cry alone once it’s all said and done and no one is there to see it…cry until you can’t cry anymore…but while it’s happening, don’t let’em know they’ve got to you. Make’em think your strong as steel, tough as nails…and they’ll remember your name. Never let them forget who they’re dealing with, Katie…never let them forget those dry eyes." Shaking herself out of her nostalgia, not really sure what brought all of that on, she looked up just in time to see Torres waving her over. Putting down her drink and standing up she asked, "What now?"

"Come play with me, cowgirl," Torres said, tossing a rock to Janeway.

Catching the stone with one hand, she chuckled and said, "What’s the game?"

"Whoever can get the most hops makes dinner," said the younger woman, tossing a stone up and down in her hand.

"Ha," Janeway said, snatching the rock out of the air, "This, my dear, is a game I’m undefeated at." Then arching the stone back to Torres as she took a few steps away, she asked, "Standard operating procedure on the farm."

Grabbing the stone out of mid-air, smiling devilishly, Torres said, "So put your money where your mouth is." Then bowing, signally that the captain should go first, she crossed her arms over her chest, now really starting to enjoy herself. The captain’s competitive streak was very well documented, and what spurred Torres on was that she knew that this woman could ‘walk the talk’ without a problem. As Janeway positioned the stone in her hand, eyeing the water, looking for a nice flat plane in which to demonstrate her skill, Torres flashed onto a scene that had occurred almost seven years ago. They had only been in the Delta Quadrant a few months, and Paris had created one of his legendary holoprograms: an old fashioned bar, set in Paris, France, called Sandrine’s. The senior staff had all gathered there to try an get to know one another in a setting they could feel comfortable in, and after a few drinks and several rounds of pool, Janeway had entered with Harry Kim. At first the captain’s presence royally pissed Torres off, figuring the mood would surely go down hill as it tended to do once the boss showed up. Torres fully admitted that her first impressions of Janeway weren’t at all flattering, to say the least. She seemed boring, arrogant, indignant, untrusting…and so very dignified, it utterly made B’Elanna cringe to think about on it, considering what she knew now. And the process from what she thought then to what she knew now had started on that faithful night.

Torres almost laughed out loud as she remembered the smarmy gigolo that had come on so directly to the captain, but Kathryn Janeway had never faltered a bit. Torres remembered how uncomfortable she had felt when the captain had brushed the man off as if he were nothing, laughing the whole time. She hadn’t even been phased by the piggish man…treating him kindly and moving past the moment with a grace that still astounded the Klingon, who had wanted to punch the guy in the nose from the moment she first laid eyes on him. And then as to make matters worse, Janeway had actually joined in the pool game. Torres recalled sitting at the bar, almost holding on for dear life, certain the woman was about to make a complete fool of herself. It wasn’t that Torres was really worried about the captain looking witless, but she was certain that once she did, everyone would make excuses for her, something the Klingon acutely loathed. But that’s not how it had happened at all. Janeway had played them all for complete fools, breaking the balls squarely and pocketing several solids on the first strike. Within in ten minutes she was set up to clear the table, and the brunette remembered fondly how she had actually made the shot while not even looking at the ball. It was a moment of complete and utter confidence, and when Torres had left the bar shortly after that, she knew that she had greatly underestimated her. Sure, she was still arrogant, cocky, unyielding, indomitable and certainly still very much dignified to this day, but boring…that was the last possible word Torres would ever again use to describe her captain.

Curving her gracefully long index finger around the flat stone, Janeway looked over she shoulder as she pulled back her arm, smirking, "Watch and learn, ‘Lanna." Bring her thin, lithe arm around quickly, snapping her wrist at just the right time, Janeway sent the stone skidding across the fairly flat water, smiling. After the projectile had bounced seven times across the water, Janeway brushed the dirt off her hands, saying, "Not bad for an for an old cowgirl, eh?"

"’Impressive,’ as Seven would say, " Torres came back, taking her stance, knowing she could do better. "Now watch how it’s really done." Using every once of strength in her solidly built arm she chucked the rock across the river with little delay, and cheered, "Looks like eight’s the number to beat, sweetheart."

"Not bad for a Klingon," Janeway came back, sneering playfully. Searching around for the smoothest and lightest stone she could find, she bent down, finding one that was suitable. Repeating her previous toss, this time finding one more skip, she sighed, "Eight…damn."

Sensing victory, Torres took a little more time finding a stone that was of perfect weight and shape. Then pulling back her arm, stopping for just a moment to grin at Janeway who no doubt was doing her best to jinx Torres, B’Elanna cranked the stone with a great deal of force, but arching it a little more than she had planned, she watched in dismay as it plopped into the stream, only skipping seven times. "Shit!" Torres cursed through clenched teeth.

Snickering, Janeway asked, "Now what?"

"Tie-breaker…whoever throws the stone the farthest wins…and doesn’t make dinner," Torres replied.

"Oh no," Janeway said, shaking her finger at her, and coming closer to Torres. "The only thing I’ll be throwing is my shoulder out of the socket if I try to match your power. Why don’t we call it even and make dinner together?"

"Deal," Torres said, tossing the rock in her hand with all her might, sending it all the way across the river to the other shore.

"Hold this," Janeway said, untying her wrap and handing it to Torres. Without further delay, feeling the need to cool off after standing for several minutes in the direct sunlight, the captain waded into the water, this time barefoot, taking care where she stepped. Once the water was deep enough, she sunk down, submersing for several seconds before she popped up to the surface.

Feeling totally ridiculous holding the captain’s wrap and staring at her as she splashed around, Torres took the thin garment with her back to the blanket, where she could not only watch the redhead enjoy the water from a safe distance, but also get an unobstructed view of her when she came back. "’Lanna, you dog…you’ve got it bad." Smiling at her deviousness, knowing very well that she indeed had it in a bad way for Janeway and was starting to warm up to the idea as each minute passed while the captain displayed her graceful, wry limps, Torres leaned back on the blanket, propping herself up on her elbows so she could watch. Whenever Janeway would look her way, ‘Lanna would smile and hold the stare, feeling brave and utterly reckless…but having way too much fun to stop, at least for now. "Hell for all you know, she might be enjoying the attention? So why not see where it goes? We’re both adults…she’s certainly never been afraid to speak her mind before? Why not flirt with her while you can…hell, maybe you’ll actually find out what she’s really like underneath all that Starfleet protocol?"

"For Kahless sakes…what are you saying, girl? That’s Kathryn Janeway you’re drooling over, remember…the captain. You know, the one’s whose lectures can rip away the outer hull…or have you forgotten what one of those is like?"

"But god…look at her…I wonder what she’s like? I wonder if she’s demanding and controlling…likes to have her way even in bed? Or maybe she prefers to be submissive, considering she has to be in control all the time? Yea, I bet that’s what she likes. She wants someone to take control…make her lose control…god, yes…I want to make her lose control. I want her to see her…"

"B’Elanna Torres…stop it…stop it right now you stupid idiot! Look at yourself, will you! You’ve got to stop this right now or you’ll ruin everything. You’ll lose her trust and her friendship. Is that what you really want? To lose everything you worked so hard for just because you can’t keep your mind out of the bedroom? She’s the captain…and she’s not going to get involved…not here, not now…not after all this time. Don’t you think if she was the type to do that she would have done it by now? But she hasn’t…and you know its true, despite all the rumors about her and Chakotay. You know she’s been alone, and alone is where she’s going to stay. Remember what she said? ‘I’m sure the captain has her reasons?’ This is no different…so get over it please!"

Sighing, realizing that she was absolutely right…there was no way the captain was going to compromise herself now if she hadn’t done so already, B’Elanna pushed herself up as Janeway came out of the water, sparkling like a diamond in the rough. As Torres watched the captain walk lazily toward her, running her hands through her wet, darkened hair, and ringing out the excess moisture, B’Elanna stared at her despite her thoughts of why doing so could very well be the biggest mistake she ever made. Torres delighted herself at how Kathryn’s mostly straight, strong body lines, curved in, ever so slightly at her narrow waist, and how her firm nipples tightened against the cool, fabric of her black swimsuit. She drank in the sight of the small circles on the side of the suit that exposed the captain’s pale, normally covered torso, and how her long, thinly muscled legs carried her slight form across the sand. When the captain approached her, holding her gaze with equal intensity, as she always managed to do no matter what the situation, then breaking it as she bent down in front of her to retrieve her wrap, giving Torres a spectacular view of the her lightly freckled chest and modest cleavage, B’Elanna’s mouth went completely dry. When she sensed that the captain was about to look up at her, she averted her eyes, looking down at her own bare legs, knowing that if the captain had looked up just a second earlier, she would have seen right through Torres…if she didn’t already. "You are in so much trouble, B’Elanna Torres."

The rest of the afternoon went pretty much the same way. Janeway read her book while Torres listened to music, albeit not as loudly so she didn’t disturb Kathryn, who looked like she was one of those people that could keep reading through a warp core breach. Every forty minutes or so, usually when Torres changed up the music, the captain would put her book down, take off her wrap, that was so wet now it clung to her figure like a second skin, and splash around in the water until she was cool. Then Torres would watch her walk in, the image of the captain’s body now branded in her mind for all eternity, towel off lightly and go back to reading. Every so often, she would apply another dose of sunscreen and turn her back to Torres, handing the bottle to her over her shoulder, signaling she required assistance, which the engineer gave readily. Then she would mumble her appreciation and turn her attention back to her book, leaving Torres to her music and to battle her raging hormones.

"’Lanna," Janeway said, sitting up and producing the sunscreen for Torres. Once the olive skinned brunette took the bottle from her without any more prompting, Janeway turned her back to B’Elanna and continued reading…or at least pretended to do so.

"This is hell…this is what hell is like," Torres thought, lathering up her hands. "Now I know what’s waiting for me. This is it. Once I die, I’m going to relive this moment over and over and over again." Noticing that the captain hadn’t added any sun block to her arms as she normally did, usually only leaving her back for the engineer, Torres took one of Janeway’s thinly etched arms in her strong hands and rubbed in the lotion liberally, watching carefully for any negative reaction, but there was none. However, nor was there a positive one. Switching to the other arm, now feeling somewhat like the game was afoot as she noticed that the captain was staring at her book, but her eyes were not moving, she softened her touch, just a little, and let herself squeeze Janeway’s biceps, feeling the long, thin, wiry muscles tense just a tad, almost squeezing her back. Then releasing the captain to put more lotion on her hands…using too much on purpose, knowing it would take her a while to rub it all in, she smeared it across the captain’s back to get some off her hands and then started in on the Kathryn’s graceful neck. And finally…Kahless, finally…Janeway responded to her ministrations.

Letting her head lull forward, the massage feeling too good not to enjoy it, Janeway moaned softly, closing her book and setting it aside. When B’Elanna put both of her slightly rough, strong, but tender hands on her shoulders and began to massage them deeply instead of just rubbing in the lotion, Janeway said, softly, "Mmm…more hidden talents."

Smiling now, knowing that this was definitely being accepted and taking full advantage, no matter how small the event might be, she responded, trying very hard to keep her voice even, with a fair amount of success, "I’ve had some practice." Then moving back down the captain’s arms that were now at her side, she inched a little closer to her, smelling the earthy river, the sweetness in the lotion, and the spicy scent of the captain’s shampoo.

Surprising herself by letting go of any concerns as to her behavior, for the moment, Kathryn allowed her arms be caressed freely by Torres, as she said, in her trademark, smoky voice, "I see…does everyone get this treatment? Or just the lucky ones?"

About to reply with a comment that would have been so far across the line she would have had to travel at a warp factor of nine for days to make bring it back into view, she said, instead, still playing, but trying to slow herself down, as she slid up just behind the captain, taking her right hand in hers and rubbing her thumbs into the area between her knuckles, "Only the real lucky ones."

"Hmm…well, I don’t know what I did…but I’m grateful," Janeway said, quietly, seductively…and knowing it, but not able to stop herself yet.

"Oh my god…she’s flirting! Kahless, she’s really flirting. Ease down…ease down…she likes to flirt…she’s done it before. That’s her way…she flirts to show affection…don’t read too much into it. Ease down…keep her going…slowly." Releasing the captain’s right hand and moving over to the other one, making sure not to lose contact for a second, allowing her hands to wander across her shoulders and down to the other arm, she asked, totally changing things up, hoping to continue the game, "That book you were reading…is it good?"

"Uh huh," Janeway nodded lazily, trying to remember the title. "It’s called…The Way You Look at Me." As Torres finished with her left hand and started on her back again, moving lower, and powerfully rubbing in the rest of the lotion, she stated, "It’s one of my favorites."

Worried that if Janeway started talking about the book the moment would be lost, she changed gears again; however not as drastically, as the captain arched her back when Torres pushed on her lower muscles. "You read a lot, don’t you?"

"As often as I can," Janeway explained, her voice ghostly quiet. "Why do you ask?"

"No…don’t let her out of it yet…not yet…just a little more." Moving back up to her shoulders and neck, keeping the pressure heavy and sensual, knowing from the older woman’s reactions that she liked a slow, deep massage, she responded, "I’m just curious. What else do you like to do when you’re not trailblazing, cowgirl?" "That’s good…that’s good, ask the question, but keep the captain out of it…just a little longer."

Forcing herself not to swallow the lump that was forming in her throat, knowing that would give herself away too easily, she replied, "Mmm…I like many things."

"Like what?" "Come on Kathryn…don’t give in yet…just hang in here with me for a few more minutes."

"I like…" Janeway started, having to think about what she liked other than what Torres was doing to her…then putting her mind to the question, she said, "I like painting…and sculpture. I like music…mmm…that feels good," Janeway moaned, unbidden as Torres pressed her thumbs into her left deltoid muscle that was notoriously tense with stress.

"Do you like to dance?" B’Elanna asked, hoping, praying she did…it would be so easy to escalated this conversation when dancing was the topic.

"Yes…I love to dance," answered Kathryn, smiling some. It wasn’t a lie.

Moving closer still, now only a sliver of space between her and the captain, she said, low and throaty, "Me too…what kind of dancing to you like?"

Having no ability left to stop herself, Janeway swallowed loudly. Then letting her eyes close as her body began to respond to the tactile and vocal stimuli, she allowed as her heart began to beat faster, "Slow dancing." That statement she knew was partly a falsehood since she did indeed enjoy Swing and the Tango, but her favorite was indeed slow dancing…and right now she honestly couldn’t think of any other answer.

"Do you like to lead…or to follow?" Torres asked, taking it up a notch again. Worried that the captain would soon snap out of her sudden lapse of self-control, B’Elanna moved her hand back to Kathryn’s arms, trying, willing her to stay in the moment.

"It depends on my partner," Janeway answered, almost sounding sleepy, despite the blood that was starting to thunder in her ears. Knowing that she had to gain control soon, but not quite ready to break the contact and face the consequences of her actions, she allowed Torres to continue. "Just a little longer…then I’ll stop and thank her…just a little long won’t hurt anything."

Knowing she couldn’t very well ask how Kathryn would dance with her, she asked instead, trying to coax a real answer out of her, "But what do you prefer…really, I know you have to have a preference."

"I like to follow…I like," Janeway said, leaning her head back now as Torres brought her hand resting on the captain’s shoulder to her neck. "Mmm…’Lanna…I like what you’re doing." "Alright…that’s enough! Stop now before you say something totally inappropriate…no…no…I said stop…Kathryn Janeway!"

Speaking into Janeway’s ear that was now just a few centimeters from her mouth, she whispered, "It’s not too much?"

"Mmntmm," mumbled Kathryn as her inner voice set off red alert klaxons in her head trying to get her attention, which she was happily ignoring for the moment. And how could she not? B’Elanna’s touch was pure witchcraft on her body…conjuring sensations and life back into electrical synapses she thought had long since crossed over. "I like it deep…just like that."

Torres was certain someone was banging mercilessly on a gong behind her…the white noise in her head was so chaotic she was certain if she couldn’t see and feel Kathryn’s body in front of her, she would have thought she was dreaming…or dead…or something…anything that this. Did Kathryn know how easy she was suddenly making this? Or worse, was she doing it on purpose? Suddenly, Torres was completely conflicted. Should she continue on with this quid pro quo, or should she stop now before it got way out of hand and they ended up doing something completely insane…like kiss…or heavens, worse, make love? But was it really worse…because it felt so damned right? And why in Kahless’ name was she suddenly developing a conscience? "Jesus H. Christ…if this were anyone else I’d be all over her right now…why does right feel so wrong? God, I’m going crazy!" Completely unable to make a decision, Torres just remained silent, but kept rubbing the captain’s neck, hoping the sound of her hearts pounding furiously against her chest wasn’t audible…certain it was, though. When the captain didn’t open her eyes, or move to stop despite the sudden silence, and instead kept making small, humming sounds in the back of her throat, Torres decided it was time to stop and pray to high heaven that the incident would pass without too much awkwardness. Trying to find some segue, she glanced around desperately searching for something, anything she could use to end this madness safely. Noticing the charred remains of their campfire from the night before, her mind latched onto that and she whispered, "Red…you still awake?"

"Mmmhuh," Janeway nodded, now almost resting against B’Elanna’s chest.

"I think we should go hunt for some firewood before it starts getting dark," Torres said, softly as Janeway opened her eyes at ‘I think.’ "Please, please don’t freak out…please, oh Kahless…don’t freak out on me."

Opening her eyes to see that the sky was turning a deep blue, telling her that sunset was only a few short hours away, she said, easing forward, "You’re right." Then turning around to look at B’Elanna, she forced herself to remove all traces of fear or apprehension, something she was an expert at, and smirked instead, using humor as a bridge, "I’ll make a cowgirl out of you yet."

B’Elanna did not sigh, even though every single part of her body just felt like a kiloton of duranium was lifted from it, and laughed instead, "Not likely…I just don’t want to go tramping through those damned caverns again at night. Way too creepy."

Laughing and standing up, offering a hand to B’Elanna and she rubbed her shoulders that were red from B’Elanna massage, she said, "I don’t believe you for one moment." Then once B’Elanna was standing, she clasped onto her arm and said, "and thank you for the special treatment…I think you could teach the Doctor a thing or two about technique."

As Janeway went through the door of the habitat, Torres hollered, knowing she would hear her, "Sure…not like I had anything better to do out here in the sticks." When she heard the captain’s cackle, Torres sighed heavily, wiping the dampness from her brow with the back of her hand. "You are one crazy, piece of work, B’Elanna Torres," she said under her breath, walking away from the habitat to go throw so cold water on her face.

Once the bathroom door was closed behind her, Janeway leaned up against it, bringing her right hand over her eyes, and then her mouth to keep herself from cursing her very existence out loud. "Ohmygod! How could I be so stupid…so selfish…so completely irresponsible? I will NOT do this…I will NOT allow it. I cannot use that woman’s vulnerabilities to my advantage. NO, I won’t stand for it. God, when did I become such a raving lunatic? First I can’t keep my eyes of Seven…now I can’t stop flirting with B’Elanna…Jesus, who’s next? Chakotay? Tuvok? NEELIX?"

"Okay, now you’re being absurd. So what…you’ve got a thing for strong, intelligent, beautiful women…no big shocker. Must you always be so dramatic, Kathryn?"

"Yes! Yes, I must when I go around acting like some thirteen-year old boy chasing after every piece of ass that comes my way! Look at me…I’m a mess…a total disaster, and it’s only the second day. God, where is Seven when I need her? Seven will come here and take my mind off ‘Lanna…and everything will be fine. I just need to hang on until Seven gets here."

"Sure…then Seven will show up and you’ll just get all caught up in her too. Who are you trying to fool?"

"But I’m used to feeling this way around Seven…it’s comfortable now. I can be around her and still be myself." When her inner voice called her a liar, she shouted in her brain, "MOST OF THE TIME, I can! No, it will be better with Seven here…it’s always better when Seven’s around. She grounds me…helps me focus…reminds me of who I am…of my responsibilities. I’ll feel better when Seven gets here…I know it."

With that line of reasoning now steeling the captain, knowing she only had to make it through the night without losing her mind, Kathryn put on her best normal face and walked out of the ensuite. Leaving her suit on, but throwing her jeans and her hooded sweat shirt on over it, as well as her river sandals, Janeway walked up to her cot and grabbed her communicator, pinning it to the light jacket, just above her left breast. Then tapping it she said, "Janeway to Seven of Nine."

"I am here, Captain," Seven stated only after a small delay. "Is there a problem?" the Borg asked, obviously not expecting to hear from her captain.

"No…everything’s fine. I need a favor of you," Janeway said, smiling just at the sound of the Borg’s familiar and comforting voice.

"What can I do for you?"

"Before you beam down tomorrow, I need you to stop by my quarters and replicate a hat for me…the straw cowboy style one. There’s only one my personal database…so you shouldn’t have any problems," Janeway explained.

"Very well, Captain…is there anything else?" Seven asked, smiling slightly.

"Only that I look forward to seeing you…stop by as soon as you can, alright?" requested Kathryn, crossing her arms over her chest and looking down at her feet.

"I will comply…Seven out."

Knowing that was Seven’s way of saying that she felt the same way, Janeway chuckled at herself, wondering when she became such a sucker for attention. Grabbing B’Elanna’s comm-badge, she walked out of the habitat, closing the door behind her. When the brunette looked up at her, she tossed the communicator at her saying, "Ready?"

"Lead the way," Torres answered, attaching the device to her shirt.


 

"Thank you," Janeway said, taking the now clean fish from B’Elanna and setting them on the grill that was perched just above the small campfire. Sprinkling some salt and pepper she had replicated, as well as stuffing a few small cubes of butter inside the fish, she continued, "I might be from the farm…but I absolutely hate to clean fish. You have no idea the agony you’ve saved me."

"Yea well…Klingon’s have strong stomachs," Torres said, taking the beer out of the captain’s hand and taking a sip, then handing it back she asked, "So, what are we having with the fish?"

"I don’t know…I can’t decide…and I’m scared to try," Janeway chuckled, sipping on the beer, pretending not to notice her mouth was now where B’Elanna’s had been.

"How about we just stick to fish…and maybe some fruit…does fruit go with fish?" asked the younger woman, skin glowing a much darker brown from her exposure to the sun.

"I don’t see why not…something acidic…maybe some oranges?"

"I think I can handle that," Torres said, walking into the ensuite. After a few minutes, Torres returned with three oranges, plates, utensils, a bottle of beer for herself, and a plastic bag of potato chips from the junk food stash. Setting down the plates, utensils, and oranges on the blanket, she opened the bag of chips, offering some to the captain.

"Mmm," Janeway said, eyes widening as she grabbed a handful of chips. "Good idea. I don’t know what it is about camping, but I swear I feel like I could eat all day long."

"All that fresh, unrecycled air," Torres said, munching on the starchy crisps.

"Yes, well, it’s a good thing we’re only here for a week. If I keep indulging like this, I won’t be able to fit back into my uniform," Janeway laughed, helping herself to a few more chips. Then walking over the fire and turning the fish, she asked, taking a sip of beer, "’Lanna…I don’t want to pry…and feel free to tell me to mind my own business, but I was wondering…how you were doing?"

"Never better," Torres said, looking away, "Do I look like something’s wrong?"

"No," Janeway said quietly, holding her gaze even though Torres refused to. "You look fine…and that’s why I’m asking. Last night you were practically ready to tear Tom limb from limb, and today…well, today…today you’re just peachy." Standing up and walking back over to the blanket, Kathryn finished, "and that has me concerned. I’ve known you for a long time now…you don’t let go of something like this that easy."

"There’s nothing I can do!" Torres said, angry. Standing up, she growled, "I don’t understand what you want from me? I told you I wasn’t going to hurt him…and I’m not."

"I’m not asking if you’re going to hurt Tom," Janeway said, softly. "I’m asking if you are okay."

"I’m fine," Torres, laughed. Then looking at Janeway who didn’t look convinced, she said, "There’s nothing left of whatever it was we had…and there hasn’t been for a long time now. And tomorrow…well, tomorrow will just be the curtain call. It’s really not that complicated. I think I’ve spent more time with you in the last week than I have with Tom in the last three months. And I think during the times we weren’t fighting, or I wasn’t running around him in circles trying to get him to notice me, we had dinner together once…in front of the television…and I think we slept together once too…but I’ve blocked that part out." Sitting back down, smiling ruefully, she asked, "Now you tell me…is that really something to get so upset over?"

Resisting the urge to either hug or heaven forbid, kiss Torres and tell her how wonderful she was, and what a damned, stupid fool Tom Paris was, Janeway said, turning her attention back to the fire, "Not really, I guess…but that doesn’t mean you can’t be hurt…or angry. I’d be angry…damned angry."

"Hurt…no…the hurt has been gone and healed by Chakotay, Harry, you…Kahless, even Seven," Torres laughed. "But angry…yes…I’m still angry, but not why you think. I’m more angry at myself than at Tom. I’m angry I stuck around and put up with his crap for so long…even when I didn’t love him anymore…I still didn’t let go."

"Am I allowed to ask why?" Janeway queried, looking over her shoulder.

"Sure…we’re friends aren’t we?" Torres teased some. "Isn’t this what friends do? Bitch about their ex’s and eat junk food?" When that got a small smile out the captain who suddenly had looked entirely too serious, she said, "I’m not sure why? Maybe because of the way we came together? Almost dying out there in space…I guess it created some kind of bond between us…and I guess I felt like a failure for not being able to stick it out. And, at least I wasn’t alone…even when he was chasing after mysterious alien woman pilots, wrapped up in Captain Proton, or the Delta Flyer, or whatever else was more exciting than I was…I still knew that at the end of the day…he’d be there…at least part of him would be there, with me. After finally letting someone in…it was too hard to leave them, even when he really wasn’t there most of the time."

"But you were never alone, ‘Lanna. Chakotay loves you like a daughter…or at least a little sister," she amended, when Torres crinkled her nose at that statement. "Harry’s always talking about you…always wanting to work with you…and even though he would never tell me, I’m sure he finds you much more fun than an old Starfleet captain." When Torres laughed, she went on, moving the fish to the edge of the fire and then sitting back down on the blanket. "Neelix just adores you. Vorik and Wildman, Roland…they all admire and look up to you. Seven thinks you are an efficient engineer…high compliments from her. You have Tuvok’s unwavering trust…something that isn’t easily earned…I know this from experience. And the captain…well," Janeway said, smiling, "I know first hand how very much she not only admires your determination and brilliance…but how much she cherishes and depends on your friendship. Don’t ever think you are alone, ‘Lanna…if the captain heard you say that…it would break her heart."

"Not my captain, Red," Torres came back, fighting the tears. "My Kathryn Janeway is unbreakable. I know for a fact that she eats nails, drinks only coffee laced with adrenaline, and sleeps with one eye open…standing up. If she were a Klingon, the Federation wouldn’t have stood a chance." Then sighing, shaking off her tears, she concluded, more seriously, but trying to lighten the mood, "But the next time I talk to her…I’ll be sure to remind her how much she means to me as well."

Nodding, knowing that the conversation was finished and not wanting to cry in front of Torres, Janeway said, "Well, I guess she can’t ask for anything more…except," she said, standing, "maybe something to eat."

Laughing, Torres said, "I’ll go get the hammer."


 

"Mmph…take those away from me," Janeway said, stuffing another potato chip in her mouth.

Grabbing a final hand full for herself, B’Elanna sealed up the plastic bag that was now almost empty, gathered up the rest of what was left from their dinner and went into the habitat. When she returned sporting a beer for herself and a whiskey for the captain, she said, "You know what…that was probably the best dinner I’ve had in a year. Who knew fish could taste so good?"

Accepting the beverage readily, trying to get the addictive saltiness of the chips from her mouth, she said after taking a sip of the sweet synthehol, "That’s because it wasn’t replicated. No matter how sophisticated technology gets, I don’t think it will ever be able to precisely duplicate the real thing."

Sitting back down, Torres remarked, "Probably, but I don’t have much experience with real food. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I ate meat that wasn’t replicated…must have been almost twenty years ago?"

"Another reason for you to come visit my family’s farm. My mother deplores replicators, and rarely uses them. I think the one in her kitchen is about the size of that one," Janeway laughed, nodding toward their habitat. "I used to think they were all crazy for not utilizing the technology that was so readily available to them…but after living on starships for the past two decades, I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss the taste of food prepared from scratch." Throwing a few more small pieces of wood on the fire, she asked, now walking into their makeshift home, "Is it getting too cold for you?"

"A little, but I’ll manage…it’s nice out here," answered B’Elanna bringing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Then feeling a blanket being drapped across her shoulders, she smiled, shyly, and said, "Thanks." When Kathryn sat down next to her, but didn’t try to utilize the blanket she asked, "Aren’t you cold."

"I’m used to it," Janeway said, poking at the fire with a stick. "I’m not a hot-blooded Klingon remember?"

"Sometimes I wonder," Torres said, taking a sip of her beer. Once the captain stopped playing with the fire and laid down on the ground blanket, propping herself up on her elbows, she asked, "Tell me a story, cowgirl."

"I figured you were tired of my stories by now," Janeway chuckled.

"I’m not…besides, I don’t have any good ones to tell."

Laying all the way back now, looking up at the stars, she said, "Alright…any specific kind of story?"

Thinking for a moment, trying to decided what she really wanted to know about the captain, she said, deciding, "Tell me about when you were a kid…and did something bad…and didn’t get caught."

Janeway brought her hand to her forehead, thinking out loud, attempting to recall something ‘bad’ she done…something that she felt comfortable sharing, "Something bad when I didn’t get caught…hmm…oh, I know," she laughed, fondly. "There was one time, when Hobbes…Mark, my ex-fiancé…we grew up together," she explained, "snuck out one night. We were…oh…eleven, maybe twelve…and I was sleeping in my room, which I shared with my sister, but that night she was staying over a friend’s house. Anyway, he came to the window and started tapping on it…woke me up out of a dead sleep. When I opened it, he said that he had found something that he wanted to show me. So of course, I went. I snuck out of the house through the window, in my pajamas…yes, they were flannel," she laughed, "and followed him to the corn field where he produced a cigarette."

"Cigarette? Those haven’t been produced in almost two hundred years…where’d he get it from?" Torres asked, completely engrossed in the story.

"Remember, I grew up in a Tradionalist community. Most of the younger generation didn’t smoke, but Mark’s great grandfather still did every now and then. He had the tobacco sent to him from a friend. They still grow tobacco in the South, but only use it for medicinal purposes now. Mark had found one of the cigarettes in a desk drawer…or something like that."

"Did you smoke it?"

"Of course…I am a scientist after all," Janeway smirked.

"And…"

"And I got sick and coughed so much through the rest of the night that my mother made me stay home from school the next day."

"That’s it!" Torres exclaimed. "That’s not bad. I thought you were going to tell me you and Mark played Doctor or something like that afterward."

Cackling, Janeway said, sitting up and taking a drink, "Heavens no! Mark and I didn’t become romantically involved until only a few years before I took command of Voyager. We had only been friends up until then. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I was a pretty good girl…the only really bad things I’ve done seem to have been here in the Delta Quadrant."

B’Elanna shook her head and rolled her eyes, not believing her. "What you do as the captain, doesn’t count, Red. That’s different…and, I wouldn’t consider it bad…maybe a little unorthodox, but not bad."

Janeway didn’t answer, not sure if she should delve into this realm with Torres, but obviously the contradictory look on her face gave her away, because as she was sipping her drink, the Klingon eyed her closely and said, "There’s something you’re not telling me. What have you done that you think is so bad?"

For a few seconds, Janeway was at a stalemate. Part of her craved this kind of comradery since she had gone well over half a decade without it, but there was the other side of her, the guarded, rules driven, formal side that told her she should be weary. Then sighing, the emotionally anorexic side winning out and finally indulging herself, she said, "Alright…let’s see. I’ve bent, shaded and flat out broken the Prime Directive on more occasions than I care to truly admit. I’ve traded Federation technology to spare the lives of my crew. I’ve purposefully attacked… without provocation…a Borg Cube with the express purpose of steeling technology. I’ve ignored the laws of sovereign people when they kept me from getting what I wanted, and I’ve compromised myself...my virtue, so to speak...three times, for various reasons. Is that enough…or should I keep going?"

"What?" Torres said, her mouth falling open at the last admission. Everything else she had already known, but not only did she have no idea the captain had used her body to get what she wanted, but Torres had no idea that the captain would even consider that an alternative. "You’ve…compromised yourself…meaning…you, just you…your body?"

"Well, I’ve never actually slept with someone, but I did come close once…and," Janeway said, looking down, feeling the wretched despise for herself all over again, "I would have done it…if we hadn’t been interrupted."

"With whom?" inquired, Torres, forcing the shock to retreat from her features and body language knowing that suddenly this woman before her had become so much deeper than she knew she already was.

"I would have slept with Gath after I found out that they wouldn’t share their folding space technology with us," Janeway admitted, softly…her voice low, but benign. "One night, I invited him to my quarters. I treated him to some nice music, dinner…even gave him a piece of my mother’s pecan pie that she had programmed especially for me. I came on to him, pretended to be completely taken with the man, and," Janeway said, shaking her head and clicking her tongue, "just before all my clothes came off, Tuvok informed me that there was an urgent matter that he needed to discuss with me. So, that was that…I guess part of me was hoping to not go through with it because I didn’t put a privacy seal on my communicator."

Torres was speechless.

Feeling like a complete fool for ever believing that Janeway was actually infatuated with the horrid man, as Seska had convinced her, she dropped her eyes and said, finally, "I had no idea."

"No, I don’t suppose you did," Janeway said, quietly.

Needing to get the subject off of the unfortunate mutiny incident in which she still felt completely ashamed that she has taken part in, she asked, "Okay, so who else did you use your ‘assets’ on?"

Chuckling and also wanting to move the conversation along, she said, "Well, there was Kashyk. I pretended to be attracted to him so I could figure out whether his defection was sincere or not…although, I don’t know how successful I was? I think now that he was probably doing the same thing, but I’m not sure. I’m not certain I’ll ever know what was really go on with that one." Then taking another drink, the memory of kissing that horrible man, despite his good looks, souring her palate, she said, "And then, I pretended to be a prostitute to get into that prison to rescue you and Tuvok. Now that was something I did that I absolutely don’t regret…there wasn’t much in the way of physical contact…just the promise of more things to come before he was knocked out cold."

Torres snorted and said, "I can’t see it, Red…you, a hooker? I’d never would have believed it…maybe it’s a man thing?"

Opening her mouth in surprise, she slapped Torres on the leg and said, "I can be sexy when I want to be."

"I’m not saying you can’t be sexy. I’m just saying you can’t be trashy…it’s not your nature…that’s more Seska’s speed."

Blushing some, Janeway laid down next to Torres so her friend couldn’t see her conflicted face as easily. Her laughter now sounding a little nervous, she said, "Thanks." Now feeling completely foolish, but not able to hide it, she said quietly, "So …does this change your view of me?"

Looking down at Kathryn’s face that was turned to the side, facing her, she said, unraveling and lying down next to her so she could look into her face, she said, "Yes…but not for the worse. Knowing that you did that to save your crew…and me…makes me respect you that much more. I had no idea you would even consider it…but now, knowing you like I do, and seeing what you’ve gone through to get us home…I can’t say that I’m surprised, really. I mean, I am surprised…but mostly at myself for underestimating you. You never cease to amaze me, cowgirl."

Janeway didn’t respond. She just laid there, deathly still except for her torso that was rising and falling with her accelerated pulse, and kept her eyes lowered, not able to look Torres in the face fearing her eyes would give all her secrets away. She didn’t even flinch when B’Elanna wrapped the blanket around her and courageously let her hand settle on the captain’s hip. "What is happening to me? I tell her she can call me Kathryn and suddenly I’m hanging onto everything I used to believe about crew fraternization by a thread."

"Kathryn…look at me… if you’re worried that the ship’s biggest gossip is going to tell your secrets, then I hope you know that I would no sooner dishonor you that way then ask Tom Paris to marry me." When Janeway still didn’t look at her, she leaned forward, sighed and said, "I’m sorry I asked those stupid questions…I had no right to do that. You don’t owe me any kind of explanation. It’s none of my business…I’m sorry for taking all of this for granted."

That statement snapped the captain out of her fear induced trance and she said, quickly, her voice but a whisper in the cool, night air, "No, ‘Lanna…I’m a grown woman. I didn’t have to tell you those things if I didn’t want to."

Their faces only inches apart, Torres whispered back, looking directly into Kathryn’s stormy grey eyes, "Then why did you tell me if it makes you so upset?"

"I don’t know…I guess I needed to tell someone…why not you?" Kathryn came back. "We’re friends aren’t we?" she smiled some, repeating what Torres has said only a few hours earlier. "Away from the ship…this is what friends do, right?" "Are you crazy? Friends don’t do this…friends don’t want to…"

Before she could finish her thought with what friends don’t want to do, her friend did just that.

Janeway wasn’t even sure what was happening until she heard a familiar sound escape from the back of her throat. Torres was kissing her…kissing her sweetly on the mouth. Yes, she could taste the yeasty flavor of the beer, and she was moaning…and she wasn’t stopping. No, she was kissing her back…kissing her back with reckless abandon, throwing caution to the wind and all of her arguments of why she should absolutely not be doing this, right out the proverbial window. Kathryn didn’t even stop when she felt Torres’ hand that was on her hip work its way up her back, pulling her in tighter. Easily, and willingly the captain submitted, whimpering slightly as a kiss that started out so soft, tentative and fairly innocent turned more fervent, wanton, and completely addicting. Torres’ lips were devouring hers now, and oh, how the redhead rejoiced, her body instantly tingling with pleasures that she hadn’t truly felt in what seemed like ages. And she didn’t halt the embrace when she felt B’Elanna’s mouth urge hers open with a small, hungry, carnal growl. No, she wasn’t stopping. Not when she felt the brunette’s tongue intrepidly invade her mouth and not when she accepted it without pause. Kathryn Janeway, a woman of great passion that had been caged for seven years, certainly didn’t stop this wondrous pleasure when she was pushed on her back and Torres descended on top of her so easily. And still she did not cease even when she felt her own hands tangled in the younger woman’s thick locks. Closing her fists gently and pulling Torres’ head back enough so she could breathe, Kathryn broke the contact just for a moment before she pressed her pale, thin lips to her engineer’s again, moaning openly as Torres pressed her body hotly into her frame. And then she felt B’Elanna’s hand on her hip, and now it was moving over the outside of her thigh, still pulling them closer together. So easy…god, it was so easy for the captain to get lost in this touch. It was too good to stop now…it was too fantastic, too electric, too hot to cool. She didn’t want to stop…but she did stop, abruptly. She stopped when she heard the call of what sounded like several coyotes somewhere off in the distance. The howls were much closer this time, she was certain, and immediately Janeway snapped to attention.

Not having to roll Torres off of her since the Klingon has also become alarmed and disengaged from the captain’s compact body, she got to her feet and said, her breath ragged and labored, "Get inside…they sound close."

Nerves now inhumanly beyond frayed, Torres grabbed the blanket and their drinks and stumbled inside, looking back to see Janeway throwing water on the fire and scurrying toward the door, walking backwards, scanning the immediate area for any threats. Once the captain was safely inside, Torres shut the door to the habitat and sealed it for the night. Still with her back to the captain, she closed her eyes, put her head against the door, and took a few deep breaths. "FUCK! You fucking idiot! Say something, dammit!" Then setting her shoulders, she turned around, rigid, but shaking like a leaf on the inside, and said, "Kathryn…I’m so sorry. I think I’ve had too much to drink…and with everything with Tom…I’m just fucked in the head. That was totally inappropriate, and it will never…happen…again…I swear it."

Forcing herself to shrug it off like Torres had merely made a bad joke, operating purely on habits drilled into her from youth, Janeway laughed and said, "Please, you hardly acted alone, B’Elanna. Don’t worry about it …these things happen. Heavens, if I had a starship for every time I got caught up in a moment, I’d have a fleet. No harm done. It was a…lovely moment, but let’s just chalk it up to spring fever and forget it, alright?" Of course, Kathryn knew that she was lying through her pearly whites. Not only had she rarely ever let herself get caught up in a moment with a friend, and certainly had never done so to that extreme in many years, but she was certain that she was never going to forget that kiss because even as she was waving it off, her whole body was still tingling with pleasure and acute need.

"Right! You’re absolutely right. No big deal," agreed B’Elanna, laughing nervously and depositing their drinks into the replicator and folding the blanket. "Well, I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day…so I’m going to bed. Good night, Red…sleep tight."

"You too." Once B’Elanna had fled to the privacy of the bathroom, Janeway sank into her cot, putting her hands over her face, forcing herself not to jump up and pound her head against the wall until she inflicted severe trauma. "Ohgod, what have I done?"


 

Kathryn Janeway, captain of the Federation U.S.S. Voyager finally awoke from her rest that had been filled with several dark hours of fitful dreams, random, unnerving thoughts and more than a few relaxation exercises. All in all, she surmised that she probably got maybe three hours of sleep. Of course, she had no idea what time it was, but by the stiffness in her back and the sound of the birds chirping outside, she knew that it was probably early morning…maybe sometime around 0800 hours, ship’s time. Deciding that she probably wasn’t going to get any more rest, even though she certainly needed it after the day she had yesterday, especially the evening, she sighed and threw the covers from her small, compact body. Searching for her slippers with her feet while rubbing her tired, bloodshot eyes, she yawned and stood up into a full stretch, forcing herself not to groan so as to not wake her roommate, B’Elanna Torres. Janeway knew she would have to face the woman sooner or later, but she hoped that she would at least get a couple cups of coffee in her and sometime to think about what she was going to say…or more so, what she wasn’t going to say. Padding quietly over to the replicator, praying that the damned machine wouldn’t break down on her again, half expecting it to, just to test her reserve, she sighed in relief when it produced a cup of black coffee, as she had requested. Taking a healthy swig, enjoying the sensation of the warmth running down her esophagus, she set the coffee down and went into the ensuite. After using the facilities and the small basin of water Torres had set up last night to wash her face and brush her teeth, Janeway came out, tip toeing past B’Elanna who was curled up, obviously cold in the stagnate, overnight air of the habitat. Resisting the urge to pull the covers up over her, Janeway grabbed her coffee and went outside.

After only a minute of walking around the habitat, trying to see if their visitors last night had left any tracks or done any kind of damage, the captain was already starting to feel warm under the planet’s bright suns that were just rising above the steep canyon walls. It was going to be a scorcher. Pushing up the sleeves of her flannel shirt, wishing she would have changed before she came out, but not wanting to go back inside yet, she made her way down to the river, hoping the air coming off the river would be cooler. The temperature was a little better by the water, so she took up a quiet post and sipped her coffee, watching the sunlight play off the water while she thought about last night’s kiss.

If B’Elanna Torres had kissed her like that at any other time in her life when she wasn’t the woman’s commanding officer, she was certain that she probably would have not woken up alone in her bed, if she would have slept at all. Even though she knew she really shouldn’t dwell on it, the captain couldn’t get the feeling out of her mind. She hadn’t been kissed like that in almost seven years. It had been sweet, tender, but so incredibly erotic that just the lucid memory of Torres’ lips and body pressed to her made the captain shudder. Developing goose pimples despite the rising temperature around her, Janeway shook her head, forcing the memory from her mind. She couldn’t think about it…not now…possibly not ever for fear that it would just send her head first into a drastic downward spiral of passion. "God, what would I have done if those coyotes hadn’t shown up? Would I have stopped…could I have stopped?" The uncertainty that the captain felt regarding that situation was more than enough to crease her classic features. Truth be known, she knew, deep down, that she wouldn’t have stopped…and would have done something that she would probably regret for several years, if not for the rest of her life. "Stop it…you’ve got to get past this. It was just a kiss…yes, it was an amazing kiss, but you told B’Elanna that it was nothing and that’s what you have to make of it. If she were to come out here right now, she’d know that it wasn’t just one of those things that happens…and then what? She’d probably take off to god knows where…and you’d be lucky to ever say another word to her without there being tension. You can’t afford that…not professionally and not personally. You just have to deal and move on…just move on like nothing ever happened and any tension that there might be will pass. You have to show her that it’s fine. You have to be the bigger person here. You’re the woman’s captain, for goodness sakes. She depends on you…you can’t let her down."

Taking a long, deep breath, letting herself do just that, she removed any tension from her face, turned around and started back toward the habitat. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of colorful image, and looking up from the ground, Kathryn smiled brightly as Seven of Nine approached. Waving to the woman who looked so much different than Kathryn had ever seen her, she couldn’t help but stare as the tall blonde stomped out a direct path to the captain. Seven had apparently decided that she was going to embrace this new experience wholly because now, instead of one of her many, colorful and skin tight biosuits, she was wearing a trim pair of blue jeans that highlighted her long, athletic legs and left more to the imagination that her leotards, something that Janeway actually preferred. The good captain always thought that a little mystery was much more provocative. She was also wearing a bright red t-shirt, a pair of hiking boots, and to her utter surprise and joy, Seven was sporting the captain’s cowboy hat on her head. As Seven grew closer, Janeway could see that she had also changed her hair. Instead of her normal, austere bun, she had let her hair down and had pulled it back into a loose ponytail at the base of her neck. Seven’s hair was quite a bit longer than she had thought since she had yet to see it down. Seven of course thinking that wearing her hair anyway except out of her face was inefficient.

"Seven," Janeway said, warmly, "It’s good to see you. Looks like you raided my closet."

Not quite understanding why the captain would believe that Seven was wearing her clothing considering it was highly unlikely that the Borg could wear anything of the captain’s considering their height and bust differential, Seven said, coming to a stop in front of Janeway, "It is good to see you as well, Captain." Taking the hat from her head, she said, "Here is the item you requested."

Chucking, pushing the hat back toward Seven, Janeway remarked, "You keep it…looks better on you anyway." Then titling her head to one side, looking Seven up and down, not in a tawdry way, but more in a scientific matter, she stated, "I like the new look…do you?"

Putting the hat back on her head she said, "I insist then that we share the functionality of this hat since the only reason I was wearing it was because I was unable to put it in my bag," Seven explained, setting down her small duffel. "As far as this clothing, I find it different, but not unacceptable. Since I am to be vacationing as the rest of the crew is, I thought that I should attempt to adapt. I am glad that you find it aesthetically pleasing, Captain."

Grimacing, she said, "Not Captain…call me Kathryn, alright? I’m not your captain right now…just a friend." "Uh huh…there you go again, Kate."

Smiling some, the ex-drone said, "As you wish, Kathryn. I shall remind you of that when you attempt to persuade me to do something I feel is unnecessary, as you will undoubtedly do during our vacation."

Her laughter coming out in a short bark, Janeway sneered at Seven, who was obviously teasing her, something she did quite well, albeit rarely. And just as she was about to respond with a sarcastic comment of her own, she heard the door to the habitat open. Tensing, but not letting herself show any sign of emotion either good or bad until Torres said, crankily, poking her head out of the door. "Who are you talking to, cowgirl?" Then seeing Seven and what she was wearing, B’Elanna rolled her eyes and said, obviously pretending to be irritated, "Oh great…now there are two of you?"

When Seven turned toward the captain and smirked, Janeway laughed a little, forgetting that she had not informed Seven that B’Elanna was also staying with her. Watching Seven’s reaction closely, trying to deem whether she was pleased or not to see the Klingon, she was pleased when Seven turned back toward the brunette and said, "B’Elanna Torres, it is good to see you. Are you enjoying your vacation, or is your foul mood indicative that I should be weary of staying with the cap…with Kathryn?"

"Seven," Torres said, squaring her jaw, "have I ever told you that you’re a real pain in the butt sometimes?"

"Yes, fifty-seven times," Seven stated.

"Really? I thought I was at least approaching triple digits by now," Torres came back, laughing some. "Guess I’ve been slacking lately." Then looking over at Kathryn who was watching the scene with a half smile, half thoughtful look, she asked, "And you, Red…why didn’t you wake me up?"

A little surprise by the question, but then realizing that Torres herself was attempting to put last night’s lip lock to bed for good, Janeway smiled, walking toward her, "And subject myself to your pleasantries?" Then looking back at Seven who was still standing by the river watching them, she said, "Come on…you can put your things in here." Walking past B’Elanna who was talking a moment to enjoy the warmth of the sun, she asked walking inside, "Have you had anything to eat recently, Seven?"

"No, Kathryn…I have not," answered Seven, now inside the habitat, setting her bag down by the door, and stepping out of the way as Torres came back inside.

"What’s for breakfast, cowgirl?" B’Elanna asked, heading toward the bathroom.

"I’m not sure yet," Janeway said, looking over her shoulder. When Torres didn’t offer any suggestions, she turned her focus back to the replicator and started scanning through the selections when she saw Seven hovering over her out of the corner of her eye.

"Kathryn," Seven whispered, "what are these terms… ‘cowgirl’ and ‘red’ that B’Elanna is calling you?"

Tapping Seven’s hat down, just a tad, she explained, chuckling, "Cowgirl for the hat," then producing a lock of hair between her fingers, "and Red…for the hair." When Seven nodded, but looked as if she was going to inquire further, she waved her hand in the air, and said, "Don’t ask." Then looking back to the replicator, she queried, "Seven, are you any good at programming a replicator?"

"It is not something I do often, but I am becoming more proficient with this device as I am required to ingest more solid nutrients. Do you wish for me to prepare the meal?"

"If you don’t mind? I’m not very good at it…and since B’Elanna has yet to cook since we’ve been here…I think she’s probably worse," Kathryn explained.

"Very well…I assume we will be consuming typical breakfast foods?" Seven asked, stepping up to the device.

"Yes…and make plenty…I’m famished."


 

"Seven, this is fabulous," Janeway says taking a large bite of the scrambled eggs. "Where did you learn to cook like this?"

"It is a simple matter of programming the correct ingredients into the replicator to build on the device’s current recipes. As my human physiology continues to assert itself, I have found that taste is not as irrelevant as I used to think it was," Seven replied, taking a small bite of the toast. Since she was still fairly used to getting most of her ‘nurtrition’ from the ship itself, via her alcove in Cargo Bay Two, Seven could only eat small amounts of food at a time.

That was not the case, however of the captain and especially Torres who had said little during their meal, content to continue to shovel the food in her mouth and nod in agreement with the captain’s praises and comments. Once Torres had cleared her plate, she reached for her coffee, finally joining in on the conversation, and asked, "So, what’s on the agenda today?"

"Swimming," answered Janeway, finishing the last of her toast and looking up at Seven, smiling.

"Sorry I’ll miss it…probably be pretty entertaining," Torres said getting up from the table and putting her dishes in the replicator. Then downing her coffee, she did the same with the mug as Seven stood up and turned to her.

"You will not be assisting Kathryn when she attempts to teach me to swim?" Seven asked, frowning some.

Now feeling a little bad seeing the look on Seven’s face, she said, "Sorry, Seven, but I’ve got to take care of something, but I’m sure you’ll be in good hands." Walking back toward the bathroom, she said, "If she swims anything like she fishes, you’ll be an Olympian in no time."

"You have gone fishing?" Seven asked clearing the table.

"Uh huh," Janeway nodded, finishing the last of her coffee. "But we can always go again…there’s plenty of time."

"Acceptable," Seven said, pleased, taking the captain’s empty cup and putting it in the replicator. "When do we begin?"

Chuckling, Janeway said, leaning back some, "Relax, Seven…there’s no rush. Why don’t we unpack your things and set up your cot before we do anything else. Or, do you have to return to the ship at night to regenerate?" asked the redhead, suddenly remembering that Seven was dependent on the ship to survive, crossing her fingers, hoping, praying that Seven wouldn’t have to leave her alone with B’Elanna.

"As long as I eat regular meals and get plenty of rest, I will be able to sustain myself without utilizing my alcove for three days."

"Well, I guess we’ll just have to make sure you’re taken care of then," Janeway smiled, prepared to do everything in power to keep Seven comfortable for several reasons, as Torres came out of the back wearing her uniform. The sight of the outfit looked bizarre considering the change in scenery, but realizing that Torres probably wanted to feel detached and somewhat protected, something Janeway often utilized her uniform for when she could easily show up in ordinary clothes, Janeway didn’t inquire as to what was going on and pretended that everything was absolutely as it should be.

"Okay, I’m taking off," Torres said, after adjusting her pant let that had tucked itself into her shining, black boots. "Seven, thanks again for breakfast. Red," Torres said, walking up to Janeway who was still sitting, "can I speak with you a moment outside?"

Nodding quickly, already expecting this, Janeway stood and said, going outside just as Seven approached B’Elanna, "Certainly."

Before the tall blonde had a chance to inquire as to what was going on, she said, slapping the side of her arm, "Don’t worry, dollface, she’ll be all yours in just a minute." Then leaving a nonplussed Seven standing, she went outside and walked over to Janeway would was standing far enough away from the habitat so that Seven couldn’t hear what was being said. "I just wanted to say thanks again for talking me down the other night. I don’t think I could do what I’m about to do if it wasn’t for you…and I’m not just talking about the last two days…I’m talking about the last seven years." Pulling Janeway into a solid hug, she said, "Thank you, Kathryn Janeway." Backing away enough so she could see Kathryn’s face, she smirked, and said, "And I know I swore that I wasn’t going to do this again…but this doesn’t count." Then kissing Janeway, who looked a little like a dear caught in headlights, squarely yet tenderly on the mouth for just a few seconds, Torres pulled away and smiled sweetly, walking backward.

Feeling wobbly, Janeway couldn’t help but blush. And even though a small part of her thought that perhaps she should be offended by Torres’ forwardness, she really couldn’t figure out why quick enough to make a point out of it. Stammering for a moment, and finally recovering, she asked in a desperate voice that was completely different from anything Torres had ever heard come out of her mouth, "Are you…coming back?"

Smirking, Torres answered, "And miss you teaching the Borg to swim? Not a chance, Red." Then turning on her heel and waving good bye over her shoulder, not looking back, Torres made tracks for the base camp. She knew she could just request a beam out, but she thought that a brisk walk would do her good to relieve some of her tension.

After watching Torres walk away until she had rounded the corner and disappeared from sight, Janeway crossed her arms over her chest and looked down at the ground, not sure what she was feeling. Not at all surprised that she wasn’t mad as hell at B’Elanna for kissing her again considering the younger woman’s circumstances and the captain’s own escalating attraction, Janeway couldn’t help but smile softly. Then chastising herself for being so fanciful, she thought, "Kathryn…you’re always so dramatic. That was a perfectly acceptable thing for a friend to do to show her appreciation. How many times have you kissed a friend the same way? Many times. Stop trying to make this into a romance novel, will you?" Nodding and shaking her head, Janeway did an about face and went back into the habitat. Seven, never one to waste time, had unpacked her things and was in the process of setting up her cot. She had moved the table out of the middle of the room, tucking it into the far corner and set up her temporary bed in the middle of Kathryn’s and B’Elanna’s. Completely putting B’Elanna’s kiss out of her mind, Kathryn asked, leaning up against the wall, "How was your duty shift on the Bridge, Seven?"

"Uneventful…however, I believe that I would have been less stimulated if I had remained in Astrometrics," Seven explained, finishing smoothing out the blankets. "Have you been enjoying your time with B’Elanna Torres?"

"Yes, very much so," Kathryn answered. It certainly wasn’t a lie even if the brunette’s presence inflamed her hormones well beyond acceptable levels for a starship captain. Feeling the need to get the conversation off herself and Torres, together, she inquired, "Seven, do you mind that B’Elanna is here?"

Seven grinned, just slightly, and said, "No, Kathryn. Despite our previous problems, I believe B’Elanna Torres and I have bonded by learning to adapt to each other. I consider her a friend, and I am pleased that you two have also bonded. I believe it will heighten this experience."

"I’m glad to hear it, Seven. And I’m pleased that we are all together as well," Kathryn explained putting her coffee into the replicator. "I enjoy the company of the male members of the crew, but sometimes, it’s fun to just be around the girls."

"Agreed," Seven stated, turning to watch the captain move about the captain, picking up some of B’Elanna’s things that she had left strewn all over the floor. It was clear to Seven that something was bothering the captain since she rarely turned away from conversation by busying herself with cleaning. That wasn’t really Janeway’s way of doing things. She was direct, dauntless, and Seven knew that when the captain did not wish to share her feelings, she usually just remained quiet and let the conversation continue on its own. Even though she was not speaking, Seven knew that something was amiss, but realizing that Kathryn would probably not appreciate her inquires, Seven asked, "Kathryn, would it be acceptable for us to delay our swimming lesson for a few hours?"

"Sure," Janeway responded, folding Torres’ blanket and putting it at the foot of the Klingon’s cot. "Did you have something you wanted to do?"

"Yes. I wish to visit Naomi Wildman and the others…and take the opportunity to see ‘the sights,’" answered the tall, lengthy blonde.

"Sounds good…I’ll go with you, just give me a minute to change."


 

"Slow down, Seven…my legs aren’t as long as yours," Janeway laughed, swinging her arms to catch up to the nearly six foot woman.

Purposefully slowing her pace and shortening her stride, Seven said, "I apologize, Kathryn…it is habit."

Coming along side Seven and slowing down, the redhead said, "I know what you mean…it’s hard to just stop behaving like you’re still on a starship during a red alert." Happy that Seven was content to let her set the pace, Janeway picked up a few stones along the shore of the river and began to chuck them across it. When Seven looked at her as if she had suddenly sprouted Borg starbursts on her face, Janeway laughed out loud, picked up a few more stones and handed them to Seven. When Seven merely looked and them, Janeway said, "Go on Seven…throw one across the river."

Not understanding the purpose of this ritual, but determined to assimilate all available knowledge on camping, Seven put one of the stones into her right hand, pulled back and not only did she throw the rock all the way across the river, but it impacted squarely with the canyon wall at was almost one hundred meters away. Then looking to Janeway to gauge whether she had completed the task successfully, she smirked when she saw the gapping mouth of her captain. Knowing that this was Janeway’s reaction whenever she was astonished, Seven asked, already knowing the answer, "Was that acceptable, Kathryn?"

Closing her mouth and squinting her eyes, looking disapproving, but knowing Seven would understand that she was just teasing, she said, "You’re such a show off, Seven." When the Borg raised her chin and her eyebrow, challenging Kathryn, she laughed and said, continuing down the shore toward the crew’s base camp, "I think you’ll give B’Elanna a real run for her money in the rock throwing department when she gets back."

Following the compact redhead, Seven asked, "Is it required that I challenge B’Elanna Torres to a test of strength?"

"No, but if I know B’Elanna she’ll bring it up…although," explained Janeway, looking back, "I’m not sure she knows what she’ll be getting into." Then rounding the final bend that took them to the crew’s gathering spot, she smiled widely at the scene before her. There were several members of the crew splashing around in the water and a ways down the river she could spot a few seated on a rock that looked to be fishing, but they were too far away to tell who they were. Scattered around the large area were several small groups of people eating, drinking and laughing. Harry Kim was doing his best to impress one of the Delaney sisters, Kathryn could never tell them apart when they weren’t in uniform, and Neelix was busy preparing something that smelled absolutely atrocious over a small fire. There were also several different types of music emanating from the separate habitats. The sound waves were echoing off of the canyon’s walls making it practically impossible to differentiate one style of music from the other. Glad she had decided to stay far away from this area simply for the mosaic of unpleasant sounds, she waved at Chakotay who was sitting on a blanket in the sun, when he spotted them. Making her way over to them, she visibly jumped when Naomi Wildman came running from underneath the awning, screaming, "Seven! Seven…you’re here!" Looking over her shoulder to see the biggest smile she had ever seen on the Borg’s face, Janeway couldn’t help but chuckle at how easily this one, small child could break through all of the stoic woman’s defenses.

"Naomi Wildman, it is good to see you," Seven said, looking down at strawberry blonde girl.

"Seven…you have a hat like mine too! Did the captain give it to you?" Naomi asked, taking Seven’s hand. Normally, Naomi was a much more subdued and mature child, but obviously the excitement of her camping trip was bringing out the kid in her.

"No, I am simply borrowing it for the time being," answered Seven, looking over at Janeway who was watching the scene, her eyes filled with mirth.

"Come play with me, Seven."

"Very well…what shall we ‘play’?"

"Tag," Naomi said, letting go of Seven’s hand and preparing to run. Then tapping Seven on the shoulder, she said, "Tag…you’re it," and took off toward a cluster of bushes and rocks.

When Seven did not chase after her and looked to Kathryn to explain, the redhead nudged her toward Naomi and said, "You’re it, Seven…now you have to chance her until you catch her."

"I see," said Seven, turning away from Janeway and starting toward Naomi. She did not run immediately since her long, powerful stride would take her to her destination quick enough. Walking with purpose, her movement dangerously agile, Naomi shrieked and took off toward a series of habitats. When the girl’s speed exceeded the Borg’s, Seven quicken her stride, turning it into a slight jog. When Naomi was within a few meters, Seven accelerated with astonishing quickness and was on the girl’s heels in a second. Finally reaching out and touching Naomi on the shoulder, she stopped and said, "Tag…you are it." Then turning on her heels, she sped away behind one of the habitats.

Watching Seven run around with Voyager’s only child, Janeway made her way over to Chakotay who was carving something out of wood. Sitting down on the blanket with him, she asked, looking away from Seven and Naomi for only a moment, "What’s that?"

"A pipe…at least, that’s what it’s supposed to be," Chakotay answered, chuckling as he watched Seven and Naomi run around the campground.

"A pipe…is that just an ornament, or do you plan on actually using it?"

Pulling a leather bag of tobacco from his pocket, he said, "My secret stash…purely for medicinal purposes, of course."

"Oh…right," Kathryn said, elbowing him. When Seven picked up Naomi, slung the child over her shoulder and started carrying her around like she was her trophy, Janeway laughed out loud and said, "You know, three years ago, I would have never believed you if you told me that I would be sitting her watching Seven play tag with Naomi."

"Me neither…I would have been happy just knowing that she had learned how to address the crew as anything other than their species designation," the commander said, working his knife into the tip of his creation.

"Sometimes, I can’t help but feeling like…like a proud parent sitting here. Seeing this crew that was so conflicted and divided at the beginning, now interacting like they’re part of the same family…it’s just the most amazing feeling."

"I know exactly what you mean…and in a way, we are just that Kathryn," Chakotay said, putting down his knife for a moment. "We’re the parents of this family that we’ve created."

"Do you worry about that sometimes? That we’ve all grown too close somehow?" Janeway asked, softly. She didn’t purposefully mean to turn the conversation toward the negative, but she couldn’t help herself. The ability to look at all sides of a situation was something that had been ingrained into her brain since she was a child growing up with a Starfleet Admiral as a father. And now a captain herself, it was just something that she did without even thinking about it. "Sometimes…sometimes, I wonder what will happen to us when we get back? No matter how much I want to get back, I don’t want to lose any of you either…but I know that it’s inevitable. That’s probably one of the first things Starfleet will do. They’ll break us up…and I can’t really blame them. This bond…this bond that we have is dangerous in their eyes. How many times have we risked the entire ship, broken rules just to save one person because we couldn’t imagine life without them?"

"Yes…I worry about that all the time," the tall, Native-American answered, equally quiet. "But, we can’t blame ourselves for evolving to this level of closeness, Kathryn. It’s natural…we are all we have…there is no other one within tens of thousands of light years that gives a damn about us. Starfleet might think it’s dangerous…but, personally speaking, I don’t always agree with everything Starfleet does."

"Really, I had no idea?" Janeway said, sarcastically, elbowing him again. "I don’t know…maybe I just worry about things I can’t control too much?"

"Yes, you do," Chakotay chuckled, then continued, "but don’t worry about it now, alright? I know you wouldn’t want to change all of this," he said, pointing to the people playing in the water and relaxing in the sun. "When the time comes for us to deal with the consequences, then we will…but don’t let that stop you from enjoying it now. Look at all we’ve helped to create. One ship, a crew made up of Starfleet officers, Maquis freedom fighters, a Talaxian, a child…a Borg…all on one ship, working together, playing together…all struggling toward the same goal." Putting his arm around her he said, "This is our family…no matter what happens, nothing can change that."


 

"Deck Five," Torres said after stepping into the carriage of the turbolift. When the pneumatic doors closed and the lift began to descend, she took and series of long, deep breaths preparing herself for the battle she knew she was probably going to face. Even though she had walked to the canyon wall, climbed up halfway until she couldn’t go anymore due to the incline, only then requesting a beam out, she still felt very much on edge. The physical exertion had done a fairly decent job to work out her nerves, but she knew there was simply no action she could put herself through that would completely drain her. When the small, silver doors parted evenly, she stepped out onto the deck and started down the familiar, long, curved corridor that led to Tom Paris’ quarters. After returning to the ship, she had asked the computer to locate the ship’s primary helmsman. Surprised that he was in his quarters instead of in the holodeck, which was his preferred place to spend his time, she had cut a direct path to the turbolift, knowing that she couldn’t put off the inevitable any longer, and not wanting to. Coming to a halt in front of the nondescript passageway, she pressed her finger to the door call sensor and waited for a response. Once she was granted admittance, she walked through the doors as soon as there was enough room for her to squeeze through and said, softly, not wanting to start this conversation out on an aggressive note, "Hey."

"Hey yourself," Tom said, standing up from his couch and turning off the television that she had replicated for him last year…another big mistake she had made. She had replicated it for him in hopes that it would be something that they could enjoy together, but as with just about everything in their life, it just became a distraction for the fair-haired man; a distraction from her.

"I got your letter," Torres said, crossing her arms over her chest and resting against the back of the couch.

"Oh," remarked Tom, obviously not expecting that. "I figured you would be too busy gushing over that captain to check your messages," Tom said, sitting back down, acting like he didn’t have a care in the world.

"What!" Torres exasperated, snapping her head toward him as the blood began to boil in her veins.

"Oh come on, ‘Lanna," Tom huffed. "How stupid do you think I am? I know you two are down there by yourselves. I know what’s going on."

Standing fully up right and clenching her fists and teeth, she growled, "And what the hell is that exactly?"

Standing himself, not backing down, he answered, "I see the way you look at her, B’Elanna…I’m not blind, ya know." Then coming around to the side of the couch, egging her on, she sneered, "What I can’t figure out is how come she looks back? Especially when everyone every one knows Seven is crazy about her."

Her breathing becoming ragged as her body began to rage, Torres had to grab onto the couch, digging her fingers into the cushion, to keep herself from lunging at him. Through gritted teeth and lips that were pulled back in an angry snarl, she said, "I came here today to tell you that even though I don’t appreciate you breaking up with me by sending me a letter…I agree that we should just let it lie." Then taking and step toward Tom, her olive face turning a much deeper shade of brown, she vowed, "But I swear to Kahless, Tom Paris, if you ever dishonor the captain or Seven like that again, it will take more than Janeway’s protection to keep me from ripping your head off." She took another step forward when Tom backed up some, and continued, her voice becoming low, but loud, "You have no right to speak of them that way…especially the captain! You have no idea what she’s done for you!"

"And suddenly because you’re servicing Janeway, you’re an expert on what she’s done for me?" Tom said, now standing his ground, trying to instigate a confrontation, knowing it would most definitely drive a wedge between the two women if Torres attacked him.

Getting in his face, practically spitting as she screamed, "She’s the only reason you aren’t dead right now you stupid piece of shit! I would have killed you for dishonoring me this way if she hadn’t pleaded for your miserable excuse for a life." Then backing up some, feeling like if she didn’t she was going to break her promise to Kathryn, she finished, "If you want to hurt me, Paris…that’s fine. But don’t try to hurt her in the process. This has nothing to do with her, or Seven, or Chakotay, or anyone else you think I’m screwing. This is about you, Tom…but since you’ve decided to end this without so much as talking to me face to face…I’m leaving now." With that, she spun on her heels and marched out of the door, leaving Paris behind once and for all, feeling like if she didn’t escape from the ship immediately, she was going to do something drastic. She wasn’t sure what…but she knew it would be considered ‘bad,’ and probably get her thrown in the Brig for at least a week.


 

As this remote planet’s dual suns hung high above her head, Janeway shifted her body, trying to keep her legs from falling asleep as she sat on the blanket just outside of their habitat reading her book. Every once in a while, she would glance up from the pages nested steadily in her hands at Seven of Nine, who was standing by the river reading a PADD. Janeway hadn’t inquired as to what she was reading, respecting the woman’s privacy and trusting that whatever she was doing was something that she enjoyed. Janeway had a suspicion that the small data device contained information on one of the many projects that the ex-Borg was always working on, considering the continuous data entry that she was doing, but since she knew that Seven preferred to spend her time working, even when she wasn’t required to, Janeway didn’t feel like she had any right to say anything either way. Right now, she wasn’t Seven’s captain, and she was determined to just let her be herself and hopefully introduce her to a few new ideas regarding entertainment during this short, but much needed break. When the sound of shifting soil caught her attention, Janeway looked away from Seven and to her right to see her chief engineer walking, her movements quick and laced with irritation, toward their habitat. After Torres marched into their habitat without so much as a hello, Janeway closed her book, stood up quickly and followed her inside. Seeing Torres standing in the corner, near her cot with her back to the door, she asked, "’Lanna, are you alright?"

"Yes," Torres growled, obviously not telling the truth, but the response was automatic.

Coming within a few small footsteps of the volatile Klingon, the redhead asked, softly, "Do you want me to leave you alone?"

"No…yes…no," Torres spat, acidly. Throwing her hands up, she said, "Kahless, I don’t know." Then turning around to face Janeway and making note of the creases on the woman’s face she sighed, "Don’t look at me like that, Red…you know I can’t take it."

Softening her face, her stormy blue-grey eyes regaining their twinkle, she responded, somewhat shyly, looking down at her feet, crossing her arms over her chest, "I’m sorry…I can't help it."

Torres took a step forward, closing the space between them to just a few centimeters and resisting the urge to touch the captain’s wonderfully expressive face, she said, "I’m fine…just angry…and hurt…and so pissed at myself for getting you involved in this, I could spit."

A little confused, Janeway came back shaking her head, fervently, "You didn’t get me involved in this, ‘Lanna. I’m your friend…and you’re hurting…and I care. Don’t worry about it."

Just when Torres lost her ability to restrain herself from embracing Kathryn, Seven of Nine’s tall, thin frame came into view from the doorway, saving the brunette. Jumping at the opportunity to change the conversation, she queried Seven, backing away from Kathryn slowly, as to not make it look unnatural, "So, did I miss the swimming lesson?"

Eyeing the obviously tense situation carefully, Seven responded immediately knowing that the woman would not appreciate her studying their behavior any longer, "No, you have not. We were waiting for your return." Then seeing the stress on Torres’ face, she asked, "B’Elanna Torres, are you displeased?"

"I’m fine, dollface," Torres answered, trying desperately to return to her previous light-heartedness. When both of the women did not seemed convinced whatsoever, she put her hands and her hips as said, "Would everyone stop gawking at me! Now, go put your suits on, and let’s get this party started."


 

Two bright suns hung above her head, heating the air of this deserted planet to almost an almost unbearable temperature as Kathryn Janeway stood by the bank of the river wearing her modest, black swimsuit, drawing small circles in the wet sand with her big toe as she waited for her student to finish dressing. B’Elanna Torres also dressed in her teal bathing suit, but wearing a pair of grey running shorts sat on the ground, only a meter away, quietly tossing stones into the water, pensively. "Are you going to join in?" Janeway asked, looking down at her feet at the daisy she had created in the damp earth.

"I think I’ll just watch …I don’t want to get in Seven’s way," answered Torres, sending a flat rock skipping across this calm portion of the stream.

"Okay," the captain nodded, leaving it be. She knew that Torres would join in if and when she wished to, and figuring she was going to have her hands full teaching the nearly six-foot, ex-drone to swim as it was, she really didn’t mind…even if a part of her really did want Torres to join in. It was clear that the brunette was still very much upset, and even though the captain certainly didn’t want to exclude her engineer from anything, she also new that much like herself, when something was bothering her, she just had to work it out on her own. There was rarely anything anyone could do to make the situation better, and she was certain trying to lure the woman into learning how to swim was probably not a way to lighten her burden.

When Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix 01, formerly Annika Hansen, emerged from the double-capacity habitat wearing the purple swimsuit Janeway had replicated for her a few days previous, both Janeway and B’Elanna forgot about their conversation and turned around drink in the sight of the impossibly pale vision before them. Mouth falling open slightly, unbidden, Janeway instantly forced it closed, the sound of her teeth slamming together setting her nerves on edge. When Seven either didn’t or pretended not to notice their reactions, Janeway sighed inwardly. "Does she really have no idea what how exquisite she is?"

B’Elanna, never one to keep her opinions to herself, usually, looked up at Seven who came to a halt between them and exclaimed, "Kahless and Jesus Christ, Seven! Where did you get that suit?"

Understanding that the brunette’s string of slight vulgarities was intended to be a compliment, she smirked slightly and answered, looking at Janeway, "The selection was Kathryn’s. I assume that means that you find it acceptable?"

Shaking her head and throwing a stone in the river after glancing over at the redhead who was trying very hard not to blush, she said, "You certainly give a whole new meaning to the word acceptable, dollface."

"Thank you," Seven said to Torres. "I find your selection acceptable as well."

"Well, now that the pleasantries are over…shall we begin?" Janeway stepped in after B’Elanna didn’t respond any further, except rolling her eyes in disbelief.

"Yes, Kathryn."

Walking into the river until the water was at mid-calf, she said quietly to Seven, who had followed her without question, "Your suit looks lovely, Seven…do you like it?"

Nodding her head only a small amount, she answered, "Yes, Kathryn…however, it does not appeal to me as much as yours."

"Well, I can replicate one like this for you when we get back to the ship if you want," explained Janeway, turning toward her and looking up.

"That is unnecessary. This one is acceptable for me. I meant that I find yours, on you, aesthetically pleasing. I believe I now fully understand the concept of ‘fashion’ as you explained it to me," the tall blonde answered, quickly.

"When did you become such a sweet talker?" Janeway came back, equally fast, smiling crookedly.

"When your smile ceased to be irrelevant," replied Seven, matter-of-factly.

Feeling like she had just been hit over the head with a photon torpedo, Janeway mumbled, looking down, not able to stop blushing this time, "Oh." Then clearing her throat reigning in the butterflies that Seven’s comments had evoked, she said, "Alright…this is where we’ll begin. Now, I’m going to explain everything, so if you already know something…just humor me, alright?"

"I will comply."

Nodding and putting all other thoughts that didn’t correspond to the task ahead of her, out of her head, she began, "Okay, now the water will get colder as we go farther out, so take it slow. Let your body get used to the temperature. It’s not too deep, so you’ll always be able to touch. Anytime you feel uncomfortable, just let your legs sink down and then stand up. There’s a fairly strong current toward the middle, so say near the shore for a while. If you get into trouble, call out to me, relax your body, and put your feet out in front of you as you go down the river. That will protect your vital organs and slow your progress so I’ll be able to catch up to you. Any questions?"

"No."

Janeway held out her hand, signaling that Seven should take it. When her protege did, she said, "Alright…let’s go in the water…slow."

As the two women progressed into the calm river until the flow was at Seven’s thighs. Her eyes grew wider when the water reached her bottom, and she said, "This is a most interesting sensation."

"Is it too cold?"

"No…it is…refreshing," Seven answered, trying to find the correct word. When Janeway stopped and didn’t continue forward, Seven nodded and said, "Proceed."

Janeway continued forward until the water was at her chest and Seven’s waist. Stopping there she turned her body toward the blonde and said, "This is deep enough. Is the current too strong…do you feel uncomfortable?"

Looking around her, she said, a little uneasy, "Moderately…but, I will adapt."

"Okay," Janeway said, squeezing Seven’s hand just a tab harder, letting her know that she wouldn’t let her go. "First things first, you’ve got to get wet…from head to toe. It makes it easier to learn the rest. I’ll go first…I want you to watch what I do and when you’re ready, try it for yourself." Once Seven had nodded, Janeway took a deep breath for effect, held it and submerged under that water, still holding Seven’s hand. After just a few seconds, she came up, opened her eyes, exhaling and wiped the water from her eyes. Smiling at Seven who looked slightly nonplussed, she said, "Okay, now it’s your turn. Don’t breathe until you’re out of the water…I’ve got you."

Nervous, until Janeway nodded at her, a gesture she knew very well that told her that the captain had faith in her, she lifted her strong chin in defiance of her fear, took a breath and sank under the water. Coming up almost immediately, she let go of the air in her lungs, looking completely bewildered by the experience.

"Good," Janeway smiled, squeezing the Borg’s hand. "How was that?"

Wiping the water from her face and smoothing her hair that was flowing freely now from her forehead, Seven responded, "Disorienting…but not unpleasant."

"You’ll get used to it," Janeway reassured. Then looking over her shoulder as she heard B’Elanna, who was still watching them, clapping loudly, she smiled.

"Why is she not participating?" asked Seven, quietly, looking back at Janeway.

"I think she just wants to watch for a while…she’ll join us when she’s ready," Janeway explained.

Finding that acceptable, for now, Seven straightened her shoulders and inquired, "What is next?"

"Floating is always the first lesson after you’re wet."

Frowning, Seven explained, "Kathryn, I cannot float. My implants are not buoyant, and they compose thirty-percent of my body weight."

"I think there’s enough human in you to balance them out," responded Janeway, purposefully not looking at the woman’s ample bosom.

"Perhaps," said the Borg, uncommitted.


 

B’Elanna Torres watched in total amazement and envy for more than a half hour as Seven laid on her back while the captain treaded water just behind her. Janeway’s arms were wrapped around Seven’s shoulders as she instructed the young blonde how to kick her feet. Watching them move together in slow, wide circles, B’Elanna knew she was witnessing a special moment. There were miraculous amounts of love and trust between them…in everything they did…it was plainly obvious to anyone who took the time to just watch. Their bond was stronger, purer, more majestic that anything Torres had ever seen, and she knew that if she didn’t know these two women herself, she would never believe a moment of it. At first, the engineer had thought that it was a purely parental type of bond; Janeway being the mother and Seven her daughter, but as she had started to get to know each of them separately, and now having the pleasure of watching them interact together on a personal level, she knew that there was more to their closeness than she had first thought. Seven wasn’t an easy woman to read by any means, but when she was around Kathryn, her eyes took on a look she had never seen before. B’Elanna wasn’t certain, but she thought that there was more than a little bit of desire in their azure depths when she looked upon Janeway. And Janeway, a woman who could hide her true emotions better than anyone she had ever met, completely changed in Seven’s presence as well. She suddenly became soft, flexible…and shy, even when she was still clearly in control. Looking at them now, B’Elanna Torres realized suddenly why she was so envious. Right before her was everything she was searching for. What these two woman had was infinitely special. There was unwavering trust, silent understanding and a love that just seemed to grow exponentially with each passing day. "B’Elanna…you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Look at them…they belong together…if ever two people should be together…it should be them. You should back away now…back away now before you fall too hard for her. Seven is the one she loves…Seven is the one she can’t live without. You shouldn’t get in their way. You shouldn’t get in Seven’s way. She deserves happiness…she’s been through more than you can imagine. She deserves someone like Kathryn. They’re so good together."

"Smaller kicks, Seven," Janeway instructed, her head right next to Seven’s as she floated behind the tall blonde Borg. "Just move your feet back and forth…slow, then fast to see the difference." When Seven followed her instructions to the letter and the churning of the water surrounding the younger woman’s feet was displaced with less vigor, Janeway cooed, "Good…that’s it…you’re doing very well." Letting her body start to move underneath Seven as the powerful Borg propelled them backward, Janeway kept one arm under Seven’s shoulder and used her other to guide them in big circles staying away from the middle of the river where the current was probably too strong for Seven to fight at this early stage. After quite sometime, Seven stopped kicking her feet and just let herself float for a while. Thankful since her arms where starting to tire, Janeway relaxed her body as well, but did not float. Treading water lightly just behind Seven, Janeway smiled as the Borg closed her big, blue eyes, now completely at ease with this procedure. When a the captain noticed the small upturn of Seven’s full, lips, she asked, "Having fun?"

"Yes. I am enjoying this activity more than any other I have ever experienced with you," Seven answered honestly, since she wasn’t comfortable with anything other than the truth. The Borg did not lie unless it was completely necessary to save the life of one of the crew, and even then, the deception was difficult to maintain.

"You mean you like this more than charting courses and downloading sensor data?" Janeway asked, a little surprised by Seven’s answer. She had hoped that Seven would enjoy learning how to swim, but honestly she never expected her to embrace it this whole-heartedly. Seven had never struck her as a woman that would be impressed with such a basic and ‘irrelevant’ venture. She was completely technologically centered, at least that’s what Janeway had thought until now. However, looking back, she realized that Seven was that way because she had never been introduced to this type of recreation. Her parents were pure scientists, through and through, and Seven, before being assimilated by the Borg had spent practically all of her life on the Raven, her parent’s vessel, flying through space studying the cybernetic species. After that, she had lost all will and ability to explore her own interests for a full eighteen years. And her short life aboard Voyager, although not nearly as personally stifling as the Collective, was still very much centered around technology. With that knowledge, Janeway realized that Seven might actually turn out of be a nature lover of great proportions, just because it was completely different than anything she was accustomed to. That thought made the captain smile on this inside. She had always planned on taking Seven home with her, feeling responsible for the young woman more than any other member of crew, but she had some reservations about that since the place where her family lived was technically a nature reserve. Technology was merely an accessory to their life; it certainly was not the main focus. Then realizing that the longer they stayed out here, the more likely it was the Seven would probably become involved in something or someone that would keep her from sharing at least her first few months on Earth with Janeway, she couldn’t help but feel the pain of that understanding acutely in her chest. There was a strong and definite ache just thinking about the possibility that Seven wouldn’t be around her. "Heavens…when did I become so dependent on her? Three years ago I didn’t even know her name…and now…now I can’t imagine a day without her without feeling like my heart is being ripped out of chest."

"Kathryn…Kathryn, what are you going to do about it? You can’t keep Seven wrapped up and hidden away. First you want her to fall for someone else for your own selfish reasons…and now you want to keep her all to yourself? You can’t do that…she’s her own person…isn’t that what you always tell her? She’s an individual. Capable of creating her own destiny…I think it’s time you faced facts. If you won’t let yourself love Seven…then you can’t keep her from loving someone else just because you feel as though you can’t go on without her. She might be your responsibility now, but sooner or later, she’s going to be someone else’s…and she’ll move on…and so will you. You’ve got to let her go…"

"This is a different experience. I am not certain how to explain it, but this situation allows us to interact in ways that are not possible, or probably acceptable aboard Voyager considering your position. I believe understanding that this is a ‘special’ situation enhances the experience," Seven said, letting her legs sink and standing up, turning toward to Janeway.

"We can swim together anytime you want, Seven," Janeway said, her forehead furrowing slightly. "It will have to be on the holodeck, of course, but just because I’m the captain doesn’t mean I can’t swim with my friends…it’s no different then us painting in Maestro DaVinici’s studio or playing Velocity."

"I do not believe that is entirely accurate, Kathryn. You do not display this facet of your personality nearly as often, or to such a degree when we are aboard the ship." When she saw that the hurt that her words inflicted the captain, creases forming around her lips and her eyes loosing their bright blue hue, she said, putting her hand Janeway’s shoulder, something she learned from the captain herself, "I do not wish this discussion to ruin the mood. I understand why you must remain distant aboard Voyager. You do not owe me any apologies, nor do I wish for an explanation. I simply wanted to make the point that I am pleased that we have this time together as friends without the burden of our duties to hinder our actions."

Nodding, not only understanding that Seven was making an honest attempt to express herself but that she was absolutely correct in her assessments of the captain, she said, "Me too."

As a small stone skipped past her, a few meters to her left, Seven dropped her arm from Kathryn’s arm, looked over at Torres who was chucking stones into the water and asked, moving toward the brunette, "B’Elanna Torres, why will you not participate?"

Speaking in half truths, B’Elanna responded throwing a stone a ways down the river, "Far too much fun to watch you two splashing around, Seven."

"Insufficient," the Borg said, now moving with definite purpose toward Torres.

Recognizing the defiant look on the blonde’s face, Torres started to back up when Seven continued to move toward her. When the beautiful ex-Borg came fully out of the water pounding out a direct path toward her, Seven’s body language the epitome of determination, Torres backed up more, warning, "You stay away from me, Seven." But still Seven did not cease her forward motion, and when she was a meter away, Torres spun around and started to run, knowing that if she didn’t do so immediately, there was no way she would be able to keep out of the woman’s long reach. After only two meters, she shrieked when Seven grasped her roughly around her waist and picked her up without so much as a sound. She always knew that Seven was strong, but this show of brute force not only excited the Klingon side of her, but also astounded and impressed her.

Throwing B’Elanna over her shoulder like she was a sack of potatoes, never once breaking a sweat, she spun on her heels and started toward the water. Smirking as she saw Janeway bent over laughing uncontrollably, she said to Torres who was screaming and pounding lightly on her back, "Your presence is required in the water, B’Elanna Torres. Resistance is Futile." Once she had waded into the water until it was to her knees, she set her squirming woman down, but did not back away, standing her ground and informing Torres that she would have her way.

Huffing, pretending to be furious, and not very convincingly, she splashed Seven in the face and said, "One of these days, Seven…I’m gonna kick your Borg butt."

Taken back slightly as the water hit her on the face, she imitated Torres’ movements, sending a great deal of water back at her, and said, "You will fail." When B’Elanna snarled playfully and started splashing Seven vigorously, Seven realized that this was part of the swimming experience so she began splashing B’Elanna with equal ferocity.

Familiar with how easily innocent bystanders were pulled into an all out splashing war, Janeway started to back away very slowly, but surely hoping that they wouldn’t catch on before she was far enough out of their reach. When Seven eyed her in between splashes and smirked, Janeway’s eyes widen and she said, pointing and starting to retreat with greater purpose, "Oh no you don’t." Those were the last comprehensible words that escaped the thin, pale lips of the oldest woman before both Seven of Nine and B’Elanna Torres turned their efforts on the captain. Janeway, never one to back away from a challenge once she was backed into a corner, used all of her experience and comfort in the water to her best advantage, ducking under the water and popping up in another place to continue her assault, but the water’s crystal clear depths and the fact that she was outnumbered did little to help her escape and gain the advantage. After several minutes, all of them thoroughly soaked and tired, the battle subsided on its own accord, and breathing heavily, Janeway sank into the water on her back, completely spent.

Torres, now that she was out of the reach of Seven, and starting to feel uneasy in the water, even though she was only up to her thighs, moved back some and then sat down, the river only coming to her waist. Thankfully, no one was paying her attention right now, the other two woman just happy to relax for a few moments after the heated, but playful battle. However, it didn’t take long form Seven to acknowledge her lack of participation once again as she floated on her back, looking over at Torres.

"B’Elanna Torres, why will you not swim with us?" asked the Borg directly, now completely stymied by the dark, brunette’s actions.

Sighing, and looking down at her hands, she said, slightly testily, "Because I can’t swim."

Standing up immediately, Seven stated, "Then Kathryn and I will teach you."

"Oh, so you’re an expert now?" B’Elanna came back, embarrassment clear in her timbre.

Raising her eyebrow, but keeping her voice even and not antagonistic, she answered, "No, but I am willing to assist you. Are you willing to make an attempt?"

Rolling her eyes, Torres said, "Seven, you have no idea what you are getting into…trust me."

"I am aware that you will undoubtedly become belligerent. This is an acceptable risk."

Expecting a similar answer from Seven who wasn’t one to not say what she was thinking, no matter what the situation, B’Elanna asked, crankily, "Why do you care if I can swim or not?"

"It is not safe for you to not know how…and I wish to experience this activity with both you and Kathryn," Seven said walking closer, but not attempting to pick B’Elanna up again.

Splashing Seven, B’Elanna finally had enough of all this attention being directed at her and she growled, "Fine! What first?"

Ignoring the splash and Torres’ foul mood, Seven backed up into the water until it was at her pelvis. Torres steadfastly remained where she was for several seconds until the Borg’s piercing stare and stubborn chin finally urged her to follow suit. Once B’Elanna was in the water next to her, the river coming to her torso, she said, "You must submerge yourself. Do no attempt to breathe while you are under the water."

"No shit," Torres came back, looking at the Borg like she was insane.

Ignoring Torres, once again, Seven continued, undaunted, "I will demonstrate…please assist me," Seven requested, holding out her hand, as the captain looked on with the softest look she had ever seen on the captain’s face in nearly two years.

"Now I have to hold your hand?" Torres said through clenched teeth.

"Yes…I require you assistance…comply," Seven said. As Torres’ eyes narrowed at her choice of words, she amended with a softer, "Please."

"Hey…the Borg has finally learned some manners," Torres came back, smirking a little now, but still not completely cooperating.

"Clearly, the Klingon has not," Seven came back, smirking as well…very comfortable with this test of wills between the feisty engineer and herself.

Smiling now, knowing that she couldn’t and shouldn’t continue to pretend that she wasn’t appreciative of Seven’s attempt to teach her to swim, something she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy…except maybe one or two, she splashed Seven once and then took her hand.

When Torres finally took her hand, Seven took a deep breath, bent her knees and allowed her body weight to carry her under the cool water. Forcing herself to remain under the water for five seconds, even though she was not entirely adapted to the sensation yet, she bobbed back to the surface, letting the air out of her lungs and wiping her face carefully with her left hand that was still partially encased with mesh, a harsh reminder of her stint with the Collective. "Now it is your must repeat the process. I will assist you."

Sans her normal crass preamble, Torres repeated Seven’s movements, knowing very well how to go under the water. After a few seconds, she pushed herself back up. Wiping the water from her face, she said, "You know…sinking was never a problem…staying up is what I can’t do."

"I am simply attempting to recreate Kathryn’s lesson to ‘get you up to speed.’ After this, we will continue to her lessons together, under her supervision."

"Do you always have to be so bossy?"

Raising her eyebrow and chin, Seven responded, crisply, "With you, it is required." Sensing that Torres was starting to become resistant, she picked her up and sank into the water, keeping her head and B’Elanna’s entire body just above the surfaced.

"Hey!" B’Elanna hollered, clinging to Seven for dear life, she said, "I don’t remember this part in the captain’s lesson!"

"This is efficient," Seven stated, still holding. When Torres didn’t not unwind at all from her, she said, "B’Elanna Torres, you must relax you muscles and trust me. I will not drop you."

"On you honor, Seven?" asked the ill-at-ease, smaller woman.

"On my honor."

Taking a deep breath, B’Elanna slowly let herself be lowered into the water. Then relaxing her muscles and taking direction from Seven who continued to guide her, she let her head fall backward and put her arms out to her sides, allowing them to float.

"Continue to breathe and remain relaxed," Seven said, still holding Torres afloat with both hands. "You are doing well, B’Elanna."

"Thanks, dollface," Torres said, feeling a little better now. "This isn’t so bad. It’s not every day that a blonde bombshell pays this much attention to you. No…no it’s not," Torres though to herself, raking her eyes over Seven’s amble bosom and thin, but superhuman strong arms. She didn’t even mind the starburst implant, surrounded by impossibly while scar tissue that rested halfway up Seven’s upper arm. Somehow, her imperfections just made her that much more beautiful because it reminded everyone of no matter all the horrors she had been subjected to, she was still, underneath all that Borg arrogance and astounding intelligence a rather sweet woman. "Are you still holding on?" Torres asked, feeling a little uneasy again as she sank further down, now only the tips of her toes, her upper torso, and her face above the water.

"Yes, your back is resting on my hand. I will not remove it until you have adapted."

Forcing herself to relax again and put her mind to the task, she nodded and said, "Okay…go ahead…I’m ready."

After removing her hand and watching B’Elanna float on her own for several seconds and then begin to sink, she said, "Do not resist. If a Borg can float, so can a Klingon."

That knowledge gave Torres the confidence she needed, and now relaxing her entire body, she smiled and she floated completely on her own without sinking right away for the first time in her life. After enjoying the sensation for several, blissful minutes, she let her feet sink to the bottom and stood, energized, nodding, "Alright…what next?"


 

After Torres had learned how to kick her feet and float around on her own, and after a few more small splashing wars, Kathryn got out of the river and toweled off. Putting on sunscreen immediately, already feeling the intense heat in the air, even though she was still damp, she donned her cowboy hat, sunglasses and grabbed her book. Lying on her stomach, facing the river so she could keep and eye on Seven and B’Elanna who were doing very well, but still not strong enough swimmers to fight the strong current should they get pulled into it. Not really reading, but feeling like she shouldn’t blatantly gawk at the two beautiful woman as they played, she kept her eyes low, looking up every now and then when one of them yelled or growled, as was B’Elanna’s preference. When she saw Seven pick up B’Elanna and chuck her into the river, she couldn’t help but laugh out loud. And when Torres surged up and grabbed onto Seven, trying to do the same thing, she gave up on pretending not to watch because her cackling was already giving her away. Seven, of course, was practically impossible to lift once she allowed her body to go limp, she was simply too gangly to get a hold of with any success. After fighting with Seven’s weight for a few seconds, Torres finally gave up and released her; however, as soon Seven’s body stiffened, Torres lunged at her, catching Seven off guard, something that was difficult to do, and together they both feel into the forgiving flow of the river. Janeway continued to laugh, but not as audible, now her mirth turning to more of a humble, quite admiration as they both popped to the surface looking like they were about to do serious battle.

They’re styles were so completely different, yet equally deadly. Seven stood ramrod straight, her strong, cleft chin raised in utter defiance, and B’Elanna, hunched her back some, bent her arms, looking like a tigress ready to pouch and slowly circled her prey, her eyes wide with excitement and lips pulled back, showing the white of her teeth. Seven did not move a muscle, except her head from side to side as Torres continued to circle her, but Janeway knew that with lightning speed, she could not only deflect any of Torres’ aggression, but counter it before the smaller woman would know what hit her. Janeway’s body tensed on its own accord as she waited for the first move to be made, and she was surprised when Seven did not react with the deftness she usually exhibited when Torres pounced on her back. However, she absorbed the impact easily. In a pure show of superiority, Seven wrapped her arms around Torres’ legs and simply began walking into the shore.

Shaking her head and laughing out loud again as Torres finally stopped fighting Seven and just let her carry her on her back like she were a small child, Janeway rolled her eyes at the two when B’Elanna let out a rather vociferous, "Yee haw." When they approached, Janeway could only snicker and make room for them on the blanket. Handing a towel to Seven as B’Elanna plopped down next to her, she said, wiping the sweat from her brow, "Aren’t you two tired yet?"

"Just working out my nerves," Torres explained. Then seeing the slightly uncomfortable expression on the captain’s face, she elbowed her softly and said, "You okay, Red?"

Nodding, putting her head down, Kathryn said, "Fine…just sleepy. All this fun wears me out."

"I think it’s the sun…it’s even a little hot for me today."

Janeway said, pushing herself up, obviously exhausted, "Speaking of sun." Turning to Seven who was using the towel to dry her hair as she had watched the captain do so earlier, she said, "Seven…when you’re done drying off, you should put on some sunscreen. Sunburns are no fun." When Seven finished drying her body and hung the towel over the back of the chair the captain was using as a table, Janeway grabbed the sunscreen and requested, sitting up, folding her legs under her and patting the space in front of her, "Have a seat…with your back to me." Once Seven was seated, Janeway said, squeezing some of the light yellow lotion on her hands and handing the bottle to Seven, over her shoulder, "Put this on your face and your neck…and any where else your skin is exposed. I’ll do your back. Don’t use too much, or you’ll be trying to rub it in all day."

Together they covered the long Borg’s entire body with the lotion, Janeway making sure to pay extra attention to Seven’s implants that were exposed on her lower back, letting her know that she was not put off by them since they were a vital part to Seven’s body and personality. Once that was done, she requested that Seven assist her in the same manner. Looking on, B’Elanna went into the habitat, asking if either of them wanted something to drink. When no one did, she returned with ice tea for herself, slipped on her shorts and settled in next to them.

"You do not require this product, B’Elanna Torres?" Seven asked, taking her eyes off the captain’s back only momentarily since she had finished memorizing each tiny freckle placement on the redhead’s pale back and shoulders.

"Nope…tougher skin," Torres said, taking a large sip of the crisp water.

"Efficient," Seven said, nodding and returning her gaze to the captain’s back, moving up to the side of her neck that was exposed, but not attempting to memorize its graceful, long curve since she had already done so several years ago.

"Thanks," Torres came back, chuckling, knowing that was about the highest compliment anyone could receive the perfection driven woman.

After finishing massaging the sun block into the captain’s back with her human hand, keeping her mesh covered one away from Kathryn’s soft tissue, knowing that if she wasn’t careful, she could easily lacerate it, she stood and said, "I wish to return to the water."

Rubbing her stiffening neck, she said, "Alright, but be careful. The current can be deceiving."

"Yes, Kathryn," Seven nodded and made her way toward the river.

Quietly, Torres said, "You’ve created a monster."

When Seven launched herself into the water, throwing caution to the wind, Janeway chuckled and replied, "God help us all."


 

For the next few hours, Seven continued to swim, perfecting her technique, which consisted of floating on her back and kicking her feet. Every so often, she would come out, dry off and apply more sunscreen, something that Janeway requested that she did once every hour since she was naturally fair skinned to begin with. Torres had pulled out her music player and spent the time watching Seven and Kathryn, who was lying next to her, as she relaxed to the rhythm of the music. Every now and then she would sing along and pretend not to notice Janeway’s smile every time she did so…and even once she felt brave enough to put sunscreen on Kathryn’s back again. Although, this time she kept all of her previous seductiveness out of the task.

Sighing heavily, Janeway closed her book, pushed herself up and mumbled, going into the habitat, "It’s too damn hot out here."

Getting to her feet as well, Torres poked her head into the habitat to make sure Janeway was okay. Seeing her flop into her cot and lay there limp, B’Elanna decided that if they were going to continue to enjoy this vacation, she was going to have to find some shade for the captain. Her skin wasn’t as naturally fair as Seven’s, but she also didn’t have Seven’s nanoprobes running around inside of her, regulating her body temperature, so that meant that she was more susceptible to the effects of this planet’s, blazing dual suns. Putting her mind to the task, she quietly entered their makeshift shelter and gathered the emergency blankets from the survival packs and her tool kit. Using her tools, she melted the edges of the blankets together so they formed one giant awning. Then quietly replicating some string, she stood on the chair and tied two sides of the blanket to the habitat. She knew that if the wind picked up significantly, it wouldn’t hold, but after three days of practically still air, she wasn’t concerned about it. Once that was done, it took her a few minutes to figure out how to prop up the loose ends of the thin, silver material. Walking back into the habitat, she reprogrammed the replicator to produce two, retractable poles. The engineer might not have known how to program in a decent meal, but when it came to using the device on the fly to produce needed tools, she was a virtual expert.

Exiting the habitat and expanding the poles to their full length, she smiled at Seven who was walking toward her, obviously curious as to what she was doing. "Hiya…having fun?"

"Yes. What are you doing?" asked Seven, drying off again, although, the towel was not helping much since it was still damp from her last trip to the shore.

"I’m making an awning for Red. She can’t take all this sun…it’s not good for her," Torres explained, finishing her project, and stepping back, duly impressed with her handiness. "Not the prettiest thing I’ve ever built, but not bad considering we don’t have much to work with?"

Nodding affirmatively, Seven said, "Efficient." Then looking around, she asked, "Where is Kathryn?"

"She’s inside, sleeping," Torres said sitting under the shade.

Taking the captain’s wrap from the blanket and tying it around her waste, putting the hat on her head, and slipping her feet into her sandals, Seven announced, "I will return shortly. I am going to go visit Naomi Wildman and inquire as to when the ‘picnic’ is. I do not believe Kathryn would wish to miss it." Just before she took off, she took the captain’s communicator from the chair and attached it to her bathing suit.

Shaking her head, wishing she could see the looks that Seven got when the others saw Seven walking around looking like some kind of Borg swimsuit model, she got to her feet and decided that she should check up on Kathryn since had not made a sound or moved once during all of the Klingon’s rummaging around. Torres poked her head around the corner of the doorway to fine the captain was still sleeping soundly on her stomach. Tip toeing, B’Elanna made her way to Kathryn’s cot and perched on the edge, lightly. Putting her hand her the side of her forehead that was exposed, brushing a few rebels strands of auburn kissed hair out of the way, she was slightly disconcerted when her skin gave off a slight, but definite heat. Although, it wasn’t enough for her to really worry. It was obvious that she had overheated slightly, but she definitely wasn’t burning up, and even though her skin was a little darker than it normally was, it wasn’t burned by any means. Taking her hand away from her head, and placing it on her bare back, more out of comfort, she was surprised when the captain sighed and said, her voice scratching and shallow, "’Lanna?"

Since the captain’s head was turned away from her, Torres immediately froze. "She knew it was me? What doesn’t that mean? Why didn’t she say ‘Seven?’"

"Because your hands are rougher, dolt! Stop reading into things,"… "You okay, cowgirl?" she finally responded, knowing that Janeway would know it was her once she heard her voice.

"Mmmhuh," Janeway slurred, her mouth pressed against her pillow, then lifting her head just a tad, so she could speak clearly, she said, "I’m tired. I think I got too much sun. Am I burnt?"

Rubbing her back out of instinct, she said, "No, you’re fine. You feel warm though. I think you’re dehydrated. Do you want some water?"

"Please," Janeway nodded. Once Torres had moved off her cot, she turned on her back and propped herself onto her elbow. Accepting the glass, she said, "Thanks." After taking a few sips, she held the cylinder to her forehead, closing her eyes and laying back.

Digging out a wash cloth from her bag, Torres ordered another glass of ice water, stepped out of the habitat, and poured the water over the cloth. Then ringing it out, she set the glass down on the table and took a seat next to the captain. Setting the captain’s water down, she folded the wash cloth and put it on her forehead. After a few minutes, the captain not trying to take over for B’Elanna or even assist her, she wiped her face, slowly. Then moving the cool cloth to the captain’s upper chest, rubbing it gently, she was surprised when Janeway didn’t open her eyes or make any move to protest. It wasn’t that Torres was trying to seduce the captain when she was ill, but she couldn’t keep the attraction that she felt for this woman out of her movements either. It was a loving gesture…nothing more, nothing less.

"’Lanna," Janeway said, still not opening her eyes, "there’s something I need to tell you."

"What’s that?" Torres asked, her voice quiet and devoid of the apprehension she was feeling. "Here it comes, Torres…you knew this was coming. Just accept it, tell her you’re sorry and then leave."

Finally opening her eyes, Janeway smiled just a little and said, "I know I should ask you to stop what you’re doing, but…I don’t want to." Her voice a soft, modest whisper as it flowed off her articulate tongue. "I…I just thought you should know."

"OH MY GOD! She DOESN’T want me to stop…Jesus…she actually likes me,"… "Kathryn…I…" Torres started as blood began sprinting to her head. "Jesus…NOW, now I lose my nerve?"

"It’s okay…I understand," Janeway said, her voice filled with humility. "I’m sorry for putting you in this position, but I can’t keep letting you touch me this way without telling you the truth…you deserve to know."

Shaking her head, Torres swallowed down her fear, "No…that’s not what I meant. I…I…I want you to like it. I want you to like me." Looking away, she announced, "I’m just surprised that you do."

Looking away herself, now feeling like she was in far above her head, she said, her voice growing smaller by the syllable, "Oh. Well, I do…despite myself, I can’t help it." Turning her gaze back to Torres who was now looking at her as well, she explained, "I know it’s wrong, but I can’t seem to stop it."

"Turn over," B’Elanna requested, dipping the wash cloth into the captain’s water, not wanting to get up and ruin this moment. Not surprised when the captain hesitated, but finally did as she was requested, Torres took a deep, silent breath, placed her hands on the captain’s hot shoulders and pulled down her the straps of her swimsuit to her shoulders. Stopping there, she was slightly shocked when Kathryn turned her head toward her and began to pull her swimsuit from her arms. Once she saw that the captain was going along with this, Torres put her hands back on the captain, pulled the dark garment down until it was just covering her bottom half. Not able to keep her eyes of Kathryn’s graceful, exposed back she brushed he older woman’s red mane from her cheek, and put the cool wash cloth to her neck.

"Where’s Seven?" Janeway asked, quickly, her eyes flying open, realizing she had completely forgot about everything other than what B’Elanna Torres was doing to her.

"She’s visiting the other camp," Torres responded, keeping her voice soft and comforting. "Don’t worry, Red…this isn’t first contact. I’m just trying to help cool you off. You’re overheated."

Feeling better now that she wasn’t worried that not only was Seven swimming unsupervised but that she wouldn’t walk in a see this scene, she closed her eyes, and smirked, "I hardly think this is going to help me cool off."

Chuckling, she leaned in close and asked, "Do you want me to stop? If you really do, I will."

"No…don’t stop…it feels good," said the captain, pressing her head into the pillow as B’Elanna laid the cloth flat out on her back.

Leaving the cloth on the captain’s back and taking an ice cube out of the glass, running it across Janeway’s shoulders, she said, "Just relax…and talk to me. Tell me why this is wrong."

"Because I’m the captain," Kathryn responded, immediately, keeping her eyes closed, though. "You are my crewman, my responsibility, for one. It’s irresponsible for me to put you in this position…but I couldn’t lie to you. No matter what the consequences…I wanted you to know what you do to me."

Wanting desperately to ask exactly what it was that she did to the captain, but knowing she absolutely should stay far away from that question for the time being, she asked, "Why else is this wrong?" taking the ice cube to the woman’s long, lithe arms, keeping the movements slow and sensual, but not completely sexual.

"Mmm…" she moaned, fighting the temptation to urge Torres on to other parts of her body that were staring to overheat with each passing second, she answered, finally, "Because…mmm…I can’t give you all of me."

"Because you’re the captain," Torres stated rather than asked.

"Yes."

Bending closer now, her head hovering just above Kathryn’s shoulder, she asked, "Any other reasons?"

For several seconds, Janeway remained quiet, pondering the question. She knew that there were probably several other reasons why this situation was wrong, but right now, she could only think of one more, but it was that one more that scared her more than anything other. "I can’t tell you that," Janeway answered, breathlessly, feeling Torres’ warm breath on the nape of her neck.

Moving in closer, now pressing her chest to Kathryn’s back, she pushed her luck, knowing she was either going to get the answer she wanted or possibly punched in the face, "Because you have feelings for Seven?" When Kathryn’s body tensed beneath her and she did not deny the accusation, she brought her lips to Kathryn’s bare shoulders and kissed them softly. "It’s alright, Kathryn. Seven is an amazing woman…she’s beautiful and intelligent. Hell, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a small thing for her…but I don’t want to talk about Seven right now." Moving her kisses to the round and slightly bony end of Kathryn’s shoulder, Torres didn’t say another word, leaving the ball in the older woman’s court. Torres knew she was probably killing dead any chance she would ever have of being with this woman with her words, and her actions, but not only did she have to know if Seven was a factor, she honestly couldn’t stop. She had become completely addicted to Kathryn’s skin and scent from the first time she got this close, two days ago. Now the urge to embrace it tenderly and taste it’s salty, sweet flavor was too much for the woman to fight unless she was requested to stop, or she somehow managed to talk some sense into herself. Although, by the way she was feeling at that moment, she didn’t think she wasn’t going to be able to make a convincing argument to the contrary.

"I guess," Janeway breathed deeply, now clutching onto the sides of the cot to keep herself from rolling over and kissing Torres back, she finished, "It’s not really fair to her since she’s not here."

Moving now to the captain’s neck, her kisses as light as a butterflies wings beating in the summer air, she hummed, "No…it’s not. And no matter what, there is still something here…just between us." Now kissing behind the captain’s ear, inhaling deeply the woman’s intoxicating spicy scent, she increased the pressure of her kisses, now letting Kathryn know just how much there was between them.

"Mmm," Janeway moaned, then biting down on it to keep it from becoming much more aggressive, she hissed, "Yes…mmm…there is." When she felt the tip of Torres’ tongue tracing the line of her ear lob, she quaked, grabbing onto the cot as tight as possible to keep herself grounded, and slurred, "God…Ilovethat." When she heard B’Elanna’s ragged breathing start to grow deeper, now sounding like a slowly building growl, a completely erotic and carnal sound that completely inflamed the captain’s body, she said, before she lost all control completely, "I don’t know how to do this right, ‘Lanna."

Backing away a little, she admitted, trying to calm herself down, "I don’t either."

"I think we should stop now before things get out of hand," Janeway breathed heavily, obviously having difficulty. "I need more time…to think."

Then removing herself from Kathryn’s body completely, but keeping her hands on her shoulders, she said, "Me too. But I want you to know that no matter what happens, I’ll always respect you…and I’ll always be your friend. I couldn’t stop if I tried. You mean too much to me." Grabbing the captain’s suit, she pulled it up until she couldn’t get any farther without touching her chest.

Once Torres got up from the cot and turned around to give her privacy, Janeway slipped her suit back over her exposed chest. Then getting to her feet as well, she put her hand on B’Elanna’s shoulder, urging her to turn around. "Let me see your face, ‘Lanna…I need to see your face."

Turning around, all Torres could do was smile, softly. Certainly this was an awkward moment, full of emotions and variables more complex than B’Elanna had ever been involved in before, but all of that really didn’t matter to her right now. All that mattered was this very real, special in its own right, connection that she had with Kathryn Janeway. When Kathryn reached up and put her delicate and intelligent hands on her cheek, Torres shuddered slightly. She never thought that such a simple gesture could be so intense, but just the feel of Kathryn’s hand on her face was enough to fill the Klingon with a warm, overwhelming surge of pure, unadulterated joy. She smiled a little more when Kathryn traced her graceful thumb over her lips. The instinct to pull the woman into her arms and devour her mouth surged up in her with all the power of a quantum torpedo, but finding the strength to keep it from over-powering her, finding solace in her control, she pulled Kathryn into a tight hug instead, burying her head in the her soft, red hair.

For a long time they just stood there holding onto each other, sealing their bond, whether it be end up purely platonic or more, they didn’t know, forever. So wrapped up in the moment, neither of them noticed when Seven of Nine appeared in the doorway and came to a dead stop, starring at the sight before her.


< >

Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix 01, formerly of the Borg Collective and now the Astrometrics officer aboard the starship Voyager remained perfectly still as she watched her commanding officer, Captain Kathryn Janeway continue to embrace their comrade, Lieutenant B’Elanna Torres, the ship’s engineer. Several thoughts were being processed through the woman’s neural processor that was embedded in her cerebral cortex; however, the only thought that was relevant to the tall, cool and normally composed woman was that the two women that were most important to her existence, not including Naomi Wildman, the ship’s only child and a dear friend of the Borg’s, were wrapped up in each other’s arms caressing one another as if they were the only two people left in the universe. As much as Seven of Nine wanted to approach them and enclose their smaller bodies that were pressed so tightly together that had trouble seeing where one ended and other began, with her long arms, she knew that this was not a moment for her to intrude upon. This was theirs alone, and Seven couldn’t be more pleased because as she continued to watch them, she realized that in this instant, their was perfection.

Backing up slowly, not making a single sound, she walked away from the habitat and set down the things she had brought back from the crew’s base-camp. Not quiet certain how to proceed since her mind was telling her to retreat from this situation to give them privacy, but her heart was telling her to rejoice, Seven stood silently, unmoving for a few moments, clasping her hands behind her back to keep them steady. Before she knew what she was doing, Seven was singing softly to herself, unbidden, her bliss too much to keep down. Feeling that this was acceptable, considering the alternative which was to rush into the habitat and squeeze them both, informing them that she was filled with joy like she had never felt before, she started to rummage through the pack of supplies she had brought back with her, her voice still soft, but growing louder as her smile widened at the implications of the day’s events.

Hearing Seven’s voice as it was quickly carried into the small space of the women’s shelter, Torres instinctively pulled way. Then seeing Kathryn’s reaction, she regretted it instantly, and attempted to reconcile her haste by embracing Janeway’s shoulders, but it was clearly too late and the moment was past them.

"If you’ll excuse me," Janeway said, backing away and heading toward the back of the habitat, out of view without uttering another word.

Sighing heavily, cursing at herself for being so quick to let go, she ordered a beer from the replicator, grateful that her dense musculature allowed her to drink much more than a Human without becoming intoxicated, since she really needed a beer to cool her down and bring her back to reality. Then walking outside, she poked her head around the corner and watched Seven tool around, singing happily, but not quite acting herself. She knew that the Borg could sing, but it was something she had never seen her do. Nor was it normal for her to fiddle with things. Fiddling, or using a device to occupy one’s thoughts, was an inefficient use of time…Torres had heard the Borg say those exact same words several times over the years. Now seeing the woman whom she first thought was made of ice as cold and dense as the tundra, she thought, "She had to see us. Is this some kind of defense mechanism? Is this how see deals with difficult situations…by singing ‘You are my Sunshine?’" Knowing that she had to face the music sooner or later, praying to Kahless that the Borg wasn’t preparing to terminate her on the spot, she cleared her throat and said, "Hey, dollface…whatcha doin’?" When Seven stood up, spun on her heels and looked directly into her face, Torres swallowed and turned much paler than a Klingon should ever become. "Oh shit…"

"B’Elanna Torres," Seven said walking up to the Klingon quickly, and just when Torres was about to take off, running for her life, knowing that she probably didn’t stand a chance in a fight with Seven and knowing that she could never bring herself to hurt her at this moment, even if it meant protecting herself, Seven wrapped her arms around Torres and hugged her fiercely. Then pulling away, she stated, "You have bonded with Kathryn. I cannot adequately express how this pleases me…so I am singing."

Feeling like she was just hit over the head with a sledge hammer, Torres grabbed onto the habitat’s door frame and squeaked, "Seven, what do you mean by ‘bonded?’" Knowing now that she wasn’t about to be pulverized, Torres’ protective instinct where the captain was concerned boiled up in her quicker than she could stop them. No matter what was going on, something Torres felt like she was suddenly completely ignorant about, she couldn’t let Seven believe that there was more going on with the captain and her than there really was.

"You have exchanged mutual displays of affection," Seven answered, surprised that Torres didn’t understand what she was saying, but willing to explain herself. Normally having to explain, or worse, repeat herself was something that Seven of Nine found utterly irritating, but right now she was too ecstatic to let this occurrence bother her.

Looking down and her feet, and crossing her arms over her chest, Torres replied, "Oh…you saw that?"

"Yes."

"And that doesn’t bother you?" asked the brunette, stepping away from the habitat, needing to move and not wanting Kathryn to overhear the conversation. She hadn’t heard her come out of the ensuite, and if Kathryn Janeway was anything like herself, she probably wouldn’t come out for several more minutes, needing the time to compose herself and put on her best face.

"No." Seven came back, following Torres away from the habitat.

"Walk with me, Seven," the shorter woman requested as she started up the river, knowing that they wouldn’t run into any other crewmembers in that direction. Not only was that against the shore leave guidelines, but Torres was fairly certain anyone who was brave enough break the guidelines, certainly wouldn’t be stupid enough to do it around the captain’s campsite. That was just asking for trouble from a woman who tended to lecture and punish more harshly when stupidity rather than insubordination was involved; something Torres and several others knew from experience. After walking for a few minutes, B’Elanna asked, continuing forward, but with less speed, "Seven…how do you feel about Kathryn?"

Thinking for a few moments, obviously searching her vocabulary to find the correct words to describe her emotions, she said, clearly, but her voice was softer than normal, "She is my center. She brings order to chaos when no one else is able. She is my friend…my mentor…my captain…she is a piece of my heart that I do not believe could ever be replaced. I do not totally understand this sensation…but I accept it." When Torres stopped and looked at her, she finished, "And I would die to protect her for many reasons…but mainly because I could not function without her existence. She is stronger than I am…and I know that she could continue on without me…however, I could not. I am what I am today because of her…I would not know how to exist without her assistance."

Chuckling a little, not at Seven, but at herself, she said, under her breath, "Sounds vaguely familiar." Then refocusing on Seven, she asked, "Are you in love with her?"

"I believe so…although, I have no frame of reference," Seven answered. Then curious as to what B’Elanna meant by ‘sounds familiar,’ she asked, "How do you feel about Kathryn?"

Kicking the dirt at her feet and looking down, the brunette answered, "Pretty much the same…although," looking up now, smirking some, "I don’t think I could ever say it that well."

Seven of Nine was not a woman of faith. The idea the there was one, or several, supreme beings that ruled over the entire universe, deciding the fate of all the existed within it, was not only completely illogical to the woman whose whole existence had revolved around pure science, it was unsettling. However, as her Humanity evolved and continued to assert itself, there had been three times when there was a small, sliver of doubt in her mind that no such divinity existed. The first time was when she and Kathryn came into contact with the Omega molecule…the epitome of scientific perfection. The second time was when Kathryn had appeared in the Borg Queen’s chamber, phaser rifle in tow, and vowing to destroy the entire structure, herself and Seven included, before she would let the blonde be assimilated by the Borg again.

And the third time was now.

Spurred on by the knowledge that Torres was also in love with Kathryn, she said, her analytical mind processing the data and the variables with computer like speed, "B’Elanna Torres, it has come to my attention that you have ended your relationship with Tom Paris. Have you done this because of your feelings for Kathryn?"

Not wanting to know how Seven found out, scared to know the answer for fear that she might have to rip Tom Paris’ arms out of his sockets, she said, "No. No…I did that because of my reasons…and none of them had to do with Kathryn. Basically because I don’t love him…not any more…no for a long time. In fact, I’m not sure I ever truly loved him. Kathryn helped me care about my feelings and put them first, but so did Chakotay, Harry…heck, Seven…even you helped me realize that Tom wasn’t any good for me…just by being my friend and being honest."

"Do you wish to pursue a relationship with Kathryn?" Seven asked, her tone flat, unfeeling and analytical as it tended to get when she was intent on gathering relevant information.

Sighing, B’Elanna took a sip of her beer and answered, "I don’t know. I don’t think I should, Seven…but I can’t help wanting her." Then taking another drink, she remained quiet for a few seconds, rolling the liquid in her mouth as she chewed on her thoughts. Then making a decision, she said, with determination, more to convince herself than Seven, "But…I think ultimately no. Definitely no. If she is going to be with anyone at all, it should be you. You two are perfect together…and I won’t stand in your way, Seven…on my honor. She loves you so much, Seven…I see it in her eyes when she talks about you. I can’t hold you two back…you should be with her."

Not expecting that response, Seven asked, her voice faltering some, "You would sacrifice yourself for me? I do not understand this…explain."

"I don’t know, Seven? It just seems the honorable thing to do. I know we’ve had a rocky start…but that’s all changed now. We’re friends right?"

"Yes."

Shrugging her shoulders, kicking at the ground, she explained, "And friends watch out for each other."

"That is why I will not allow you to so this. The situation is more complicated," Seven explained, placing her hands behind her back.

Torres shook her head from side to side and asked, "How so?"

Releasing her arms to let them sway at her sides as she spoke, something she had found helped her to find her voice and express herself with more precision during complicated situations, she began, "For several reasons. One, it is not certain that Kathryn will make herself accessible. She has many reasons to not due to her rank…I have researched this in great detail. Even though she has never expressed that opinion to me directly, I feel it is accurate."

Nodding in complete agreement, having heard those words only a half hour, or so, ago, she said, "It is…what else?"

"Although my bond with Kathryn is great…I have feelings for another. Different, but equally stimulating. I have come to the conclusion that even though I love Kathryn for many reasons, there is…"

"Something missing?" Torres offered when Seven hesitated.

"No," Seven said. Not liking the negative connotation that statement brought with it, she amended, "Something more to be expressed."

"I’m not following," said the engineer, now feeling like the very ground beneath her was starting to spin out of control. There really was just too much going on for her to keep up with…and now…now it sounded like Seven was complicating the situation by being obtuse…something she normally was not.

Understanding that her ability to explain situations without stating the facts was not nearly as evolved as it could be, she gave up on her attempt at subtlety and said, "B’Elanna Torres…there are two people aboard Voyager that I am sexually attracted to. One of them is Kathryn, the other is you."


 

Now B’Elanna Torres was certain that the beer she was drinking was laced with some kind of narcotic. There really was no other way to explain this series of events, unless she was dreaming, but the heat from the sun backing her bare shoulders told her that she wasn’t dreaming, so she must be drunk. Dumping out the beer, she mumbled as the blood thundered in her ears and her hearts pounded against her chest, "Oh."

Watching Torres pour out the beer, confused, Seven deemed it necessary to continue to explain the situation. "However, the feelings I have for Kathryn are deeper, but that is simply because for most of my time with this crew, she has been the only one who has never given up on me and accepted me for who I was…and who I am for the beginning."

"And I was a real asshole to you," Torres said ashamed of herself. The memory of her first words to the Borg clear as a bell in her mind helped her to regain some control, and even though the thoughts were unpleasant, she was glad for whatever sanity she could grasp onto right now.

Smirking some, Seven responded, "Yes…as was I at times." When that produced a slight chuckle out of the Klingon, and the color started to return to her face, she explained further, "As our friendship has evolved, so have my feelings for you. If you have had not been involved with Tom Paris, I would have attempted to date you several months ago."

"I’ve got to sit down," Torres said, taking up refuge on a small rock by the river’s edge. Then thinking out loud, trying to wrap her mind around what Seven was saying, she asked, "Seven…I don’t know what to say. Are you saying…you want to date me?" "Oh Kahless…please say no…please say no…I can’t take it…I can’t!"

"Yes," answered the blonde, hovering over Torres.

"Ohgod…"… "And what about the captain?" Torres huffed asking the first question the popped into her mind, still attempting to determine if she was indeed having this conversation. "That’s it…no more beer from that replicator…this is crazy! Is this really happening?"

"I wish to date her as well."

Her mouth falling open completely of its own accord, Torres brought her hand to her forehead, feeling a headache coming on. "Seven…I’m no expert on Kathryn Janeway…I’m the first to admit that, but I don’t think she’s the type to be in an open relationship. She had too much to lose. You’re either with her or you aren’t, Seven." "Jesus H. Christ…Seven wants to date me! Ohgod…run. Run for you life Torres…leave now before you do something insane."

"I believe you are correct," Seven agreed, which further confounded the brunette. "She holds herself, her position and her duty too highly to allow such actions. No doubt she would see such a suggestion as unwise and reject it immediately without regret. However, I do not wish to date you and her separately. I do not wish to choose. The choice is not one I can or will make. You both are too different, complex, special…it is beyond my capabilities."

Dropping her hands to her sides and snapping her head up toward Seven, she said, exasperated, "Seven…are you saying what I think you’re saying? You want us all to be…together…all of us…at the same time?" "At the same table," her thoughts continued on, but she did not orate them, "in the same bed…OH MY GOD…Jesus in Heaven, Kahless in StoVoKor…run, Torres!"

Pleased that she had finally explained herself, she said, "Yes…it is the only logical choice. I hold you both in high regard. Kathryn has emotions for me…as to the extent, I am not yet aware, but I believe you when you say that she loves me. You two have bonded separately. You desire the captain…the only variable is…do you desire me as I desire you?"

Jumping to her feet, stalking around, Torres yelled, "This is crazy, Seven! Christ…I can’t even believe I’m hearing this. This is lunacy…and trouble! I’m talking serious trouble, Seven…with a capitol T!" "I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with Seven…Seven…Seven of Nine! Do I desire her? What kind of question is that? Who goes around asking people those questions! Seven…SEVEN does. Oh my god…calm down, calm down…don’t answer…just keep changing the subject."

"That was not the question, B’Elanna," Seven reminded her.

Spinning around, looking at Seven for the first time since she bounded to her feet, Torres tried to come to her senses as the possibilities of what the Borg was suggesting paraded across her mind. "Oh my god…Kathryn and Seven…it would be heaven. NO…no…it would never work…this is crazy!" And even though she felt that it was indeed completely insane to even think about it, Torres couldn’t stop herself from doing so. Maybe it was what had happened with Tom, combined with her feelings for Kathryn, and this beautiful woman’s metamorphosis from a mindless automaton, to an acquaintance, into a friend, and now into an extraordinary woman-child, that was keeping her from walking away…but whatever it was, this idea was undeniably appealing.

When B’Elanna just continued to stare at her, Seven walked up to Torres, bent the woman backward slightly and kissed her squarely and purposefully. After ten seconds, Seven released her and took a step away, breathing deeply, her face the picture of determination. When the Klingon dropped her beer bottle that thankfully didn’t break in the softer sand of the shore, and regained the stiffness in her legs, Seven approached her again. Her movements were quick, but methodical, as she started to circle Torres, just as the brunette had done to her earlier in the day while they wrestled in the river. "You have not answered my question, bang," Seven growled at her, using the Klingon word for one that is loved, hoping to appeal to her more straight-forward, but volatile side.

Spinning with Seven, keeping her eyes on her as her Klingon blood began to boil with lust and desire, she barked, her muscles coiling naturally as this ancient ritual began to escalate, "What the hell do you think you’re doing, Seven?"

"tammoH! jang DaH!" Seven demanded accurately in Torres’ mother’s native tongue that she be silent and answer the question immediately.

Flaring her nostrils at the command as the crispness and vigor of the Borg’s words sent tendrils of excitement zipping throughout her body, B’Elanna felt something snap inside of her, and before she really knew what she was doing, she was grabbing Seven by the neck, growling, "HIja’ " and kissing her forcefully. Once she really let herself feel the softness of Seven’s lips, Torres quickly eased up on the power of her kisses, not wanting to continue the embrace in an aggressive manner. When Seven also responded by relaxing her grip on Torres, and letting her arms wrap around her more lovingly, Torres moaned slightly and then pulled away, trying to regain her composure. Putting some distance between her and this woman who was quickly demonstrating that she knew a lot more about many things than most people gave her credit for, she said, "Kahless, dollface…you know this is crazy, right?"

Recovering from Torres’ kiss, she said, composing herself and preparing to continue with her argument, "I am…aware…that it may be difficult…for others to accept. I have researched many forms of relationships…I know that polyamory is still considered controversial in many social groups."

Laughing simply because she couldn’t think of anything else to do to relieve the tension, she said, "I’m not worried about what anyone else thinks, Seven…it’s none of their business."

Smiling some, she said, "Does this mean that you agree with my assessment of the situation? That we should not resist this opportunity just because it is unconventional?"

"I just don’t go around kissing every person who speaks to me in Klingon, you know?" Torres teased, needing to lighten the mood before she fainted from exhaustion and shock. When Seven didn’t look entirely convinced, she wrapped her arms around her waist and said, sincerely, "Dollface…I don’t know what it is about you that drives me so crazy…but I’m starting to like it…a lot. I don’t know what that means, but I know that I don’t want to stop getting to know this other side of you…no matter what."

Wrapping her arms around Torres, accepting what she was saying, knowing that she wasn’t misleading her, she said, "If you do not care what the others think…why do you believe this is unwise?"

"Because I’m scared to death of how that redheaded fireball waiting for us down the river is going to react."

Understanding her concerns and having them herself, she said, "It is not my intention to deceive Kathryn. However, she had given me advice on how to approach prospective mates, regardless of the situation. I believe her wisdom can be used in our favor to persuade her."

Chuckling, and looking at Seven, Torres asked, "Has there ever been anything you weren’t prepared for?"

"Yes," Seven said, planting a small kiss on Torres’ ridged forehead, "you."

And with that truth spoken, Torres could no longer resist Seven of Nine any more than she could Kathryn Janeway…and she knew that she was probably never going to be the same because of it. The only question left was whether her life was about to get exponentially better, or infinitely worse.


 

After being gone for an hour, spending their remaining time after Torres decided that Seven’s solution was the only way they would all be happy since they both were completely head over heels for Janeway, how to proceed in wooing the captain using her own techniques to assist them, they made their way back to the camp. They also decided that no matter what happened with the captain, that they wouldn’t let that stop their relationship from continuing to flourish and evolve, which it seemed to be doing quite well without much prompting. On both of their honors they swore to face this challenge together and not let anything other than Kathryn Janeway stop them. Unfortunately, she was most definitely the biggest roadblock they would face, but just the hope that possibly they could help her see that all three of them together could be so much greater than just two, or none as was the highest probability, was enough to fuel their determination. During the walk back, they decided to take it easy tonight and basically just take care of the captain, instead of the other way around.

When they arrived back at their campsite, both of them smiling and looking like they didn’t have a care in the world, Janeway, who was sitting under the awning, reading and listening to some of B’Elanna’s music, looked up at them, smiled slightly, hoping her grin didn’t look as forced as it was, and said, "There you two are…I was getting worried."

"I apologize Kathryn…that was not our intention," Seven responded, coming to a halt in front of her.

"That’s alright," Janeway said, closing up her book, waving her right hand in front of her face, signaling that Seven didn’t have to apologize. "Did you have fun?"

"Yes, I am enjoying this vacation immensely."

Craning up her neck up and smiling at Seven, this time it was clearly sincere, she said, "I’m glad, Seven. What were you two up to?"

Seeing Seven hesitate a little, knowing that she didn’t feel comfortable lying to Kathryn, Torres piped up expertly fielding the question without Janeway realizing what was happening and answered, "Just girl talk…you know how it is."

Smirking, Janeway nodded, "Certainly do." Then changing the subject, not really wanting to pry into Seven and B’Elanna’s business, she said, "I thought about making dinner…but I didn’t know what you all wanted…so, I didn’t."

"Don’t fret, cowgirl," Torres said, moving toward the entrance of the habitat, but not going it yet, "I think you’ve earned your keep today. Seven and I will take care of it, right tootse?"

Rolling her eyes at her companion, Seven responded, crisply, but clearly not truly irritated, "B’Elanna Torres, you will cease using this term ‘tootse’ to address me, immediately. I find it inadequate and unflattering."

"Who knew the Borg were so testy," Torres chuckled, winking at Seven. When Janeway raised her hand, signaling that she knew the Borg were easily irritated, Torres and Seven both laughed, however Seven’s laugh was small and almost soundless. "Come on, Seven…let’s figure out what eat for dinner," B’Elanna said walking into the habitat. Once Seven was inside, she whispered, "Why don’t you spend some time with her while I look over the menu selections." Putting her arm on Seven’s shoulder, she said, "I think she could use some Seven time right now…she looks tense."

"Agreed," Seven said back, equally quiet. Before turning away, she asked, "What should I say?"

Smiling, Torres said, "I don’t know…just talk to her the way you normally do…I’m sure it will do the trick."

Nodding, realizing that Torres was correct, she said, turning away, "I will comply." Then walking out and standing next to Kathryn, who now that the weather had started to cool as the sun began to set was wearing a pair of airy, white cotton drawstring pants and a canary yellow t-shirt, and asked, "Kathryn, how are you feeling? B’Elanna said that you were slightly ill earlier."

When Seven sat next to her on the portable lounge chair that the blonde had retrieved from her trip to the other camp, Kathryn scooted over, making room, surprised that Seven was suddenly sitting, but not making mention of it and answered, "I’m fine now." Taking a sip of her iced tea, she explained, "I think I just got too much sun earlier."

"I am glad you are undamaged. I am sorry that this planet’s climate is unaccommodating to your physiology."

Chucking some, she said, "Oh, it’s not that bad. I’ve always been susceptible to the sun. This tarp will help though…did you make this?"

"It was B’Elanna’s construction," answered Seven.

"Oh, well, I’ll have to thank her then," Janeway replied, hoping the tone of her voice was completely even once Torres had been mentioned. Switching gears, she inquired, "How are the others fairing?"

"They are enjoying their time, but I believe they miss the captain," informed Seven, her voice soft and comforting.

Her laugher escaping her lips in a short, barking like sound, she said, patting Seven’s thigh, "Doubtful, but you’re sweet. When’s the party?"

"Tomorrow evening at 1700 hours."

"How’s Naomi?"

Smiling, Seven said, "She is well, Kathryn. I believe this experience is good for her. I have noticed a change in her behavior. She has become more energetic and childlike that I have ever seen her…even more so than when we play with Flotter on the holodeck. Since I am experiencing the same reaction, I believe I understand the difference now between the simulations and the actual experience."

Her mood getting better with each passing moment, Janeway smiled warmly and said, "If you want to invite Naomi and Samantha over to go swimming for a day, I don’t mind, Seven."

Raising her eyebrow, Seven stated, "I had not thought about that. Naomi will enjoy that…as will I. Thank you for suggesting it, Kathryn."

"That’s my job, remember?" Janeway said, poking Seven in the ribs.

"Don’t mean to interrupt," Torres said, poking her head out the door, "but are your girls in the mood for chicken or beef tonight?"

"Chicken," Janeway said, looking over her shoulder at Torres. When her eyes locked onto the Klingon’s dark, brown eyes, she couldn’t help but smile as Torres stared right back at her, silently telling her that their were no hard feelings between them.

"I do not have a preference," Seven replied.

"Chicken it is then," Torres said, walking away immediately to leave the captain alone with Seven for another few minutes.

"Kathryn," Seven said, softly, "I do not know how to thank you for taking these days out of your personal time to introduce me to this experience. I do not wish to burden you with more responsibility than you already have; however I wish for you to know that I am grateful for your patience and your sacrifice. Thank you seems insufficient, but it is all I have."

"You’re not a burden to me, Seven," Janeway said, sitting up and squeezing Seven’s arm. "Please don’t ever think that…I cherish each and every moment, good and bad, that we spend together. And as far as thanking me…just seeing you learn and grow and become the wonderful human being that you are is all the thanks I’ll ever need." Trying not to get misty, and not at all succeeding, she said, "When I think back to three years ago to those rough days when I thought that at any moment you were going to somehow find away, despite all of my efforts to stop you, to rejoin the Collective, and then look at you now…sometimes," swallowing back her tears, "sometimes it’s hard to believe that this isn’t all some kind of crazy dream that I’m about to wake up from."

"You are not dreaming, Kathryn," Seven reassured, seriously. "And as for my previous actions…clearly I did not know what I was ‘missing.’ If I would have known as a Borg what I know now, I would have sought you out long before you requested a liaison to speak for the Collective. I know that luck had nothing to do with the Borg’s choice for liaisons, I was merely the closest adjunct to your position, but I cannot help but feel fortunate to have been assigned the task. That is one thing for which I will always be grateful to the Borg."

"Seven," Janeway sniffled, wiping the tears from her face, "are you trying to make me cry?"

Smiling, knowing that Janeway was being facetious, she answered, "No, Kathryn…I just wish for you to know that although I do not always say it, I am always grateful for this, and great many other things that you and others in this crew have done for me."

"Come here," cried Kathryn, wrapping her arms around Seven’s neck and hugging her tightly. "I don’t know what I ever did to deserve this, but I’ll never stop thanking my lucky stars for you Seven of Nine, Annika Hansen." Whispering softly in her ear, so only Seven could hear her, she said, "You have no idea how special you are to me…I know you understand why I shouldn’t say this, but here and now, I want you to know that you hold a place in my heart that no one else can ever touch. It’s just for you and it will always be there until the day I die." Pulling away and wiping the profusion of tears off her face, she laughed, "Which hopefully won’t be for a very long time."

"I will not forget," Seven vowed.

Getting up from the lounger, hearing B’Elanna cursing in Klingon, Bajoran, and English, she said, "I think you better go help B’Elanna with the replicator before she throws it across the room. I’m going for a walk…I’ll be back."

Smirking as she heard B’Elanna refer to the contraption as the Devil’s spawn, Seven stood up and said, "I believe that would be wise. Do not be gone long, Kathryn…it is getting dark."

"I won’t, Mom," Janeway laughed, walking away, shaking her fingers in the air at Seven.

"Do you require assistance?" Seven asked, getting a great deal of pleasure watching the flustered woman spit vulgarities at the small, portable replicator.

"Yes," Torres growled, pounding her fist on top of the replicator. Then turning her head and seeing the watery mist glazing over Seven’s eyes, she said, "Hey…you okay? Where’s Red?"

"I am…functioning," Seven said, walking up to B’Elanna and hugging her. "Kathryn is taking a walk."

Pulling away, Torres said, "Functioning usually means that something’s wrong…what happened? You didn’t try to assimilate her, did you?"

Laughing, just slightly, Seven sighed heavily, and said, "No…but as soon as we return to Voyager I would like for us to continue our work on the slipstream project." When Torres looked at her like she was speaking a foreign language, she explained, "It is imperative that we return to the Alpha Quadrant as soon as possible."

"Alright…I’ll bite…why are you do intent on going there? I thought the idea made you as nervous as it makes me."

"We must return…for Kathryn’s sake. I believe the longer she is burdened with this command, the more likely it is that she will be damaged beyond repair," Seven explained.

"How so?"

"She is suffering. This responsibility that she has is too great for one person to bare alone. However, I do not believe she will allow herself a moment’s peace until she has completed her duty."

"What the hell were you two talking about?" asked the Klingon, sitting down at table.

Sitting down as well, feeling weary, but keeping an eye out for Kathryn, knowing she would not appreciate her crew speculating on her mental health, she responded, "I was not what she said, but what she did not…could not say."

"Like what?"

"I believe Kathryn wanted to express her feelings for me on a personal level to a greater extent than she did…thus the need for her departure. She often walks away when she is conflicted and cannot let her true emotions be shown because of her position, as she sees it."

Nodding, remembering how the redhead had walked way from her earlier that say, she said, "Okay yea, I follow."

"It is not healthy for humans to suppress such strong emotions. Kathryn has told me this on several occasions when I have attempted to what she is doing, and seems to have been doing for quite some time," said the tall blonde.

"You’re right it’s not, but she’s also the captain…she’s used to stifling her emotions…it’s what they do, dollface," Torres came back, not so much disagreeing with Seven, just trying to explain the difference.

"Is she used to doing it for seven years straight, without pause?"

"Okay…no…I don’t think she is," Torres admitted. "Are you saying that you don’t think she’s going to go along with our plan? Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think maybe it’s a little early to jump to that conclusion."

"This is beyond that," Seven said. "As much as I wish for us to have a relationship with the captain, that is not what is prompting this discussion. I admit," Seven said, looking away, taking a breath and then turning back toward B’Elanna, "that there is a selfish agenda behind this. I…I cannot see her suffer this way. It is unacceptable to me to know that I am causing her pain. I cannot bare this burden. I am not as strong as Kathryn."

"Hey," Torres said, reaching her hand across the table and clasping onto it, "Seven…listen to me. We’ll get through this, alright? I’m not negating your pain…but today has been a stressful day…and well…weird. If it will make you feel better, I promise to do everything I can to help work on the slipstream drive. Hell, I’ll even go to the captain myself and convince her that we should have another go at it."

"Thank you, B’Elanna Torres. I sense that you do not completely agree with this idea, however."

"I do…in a way, dollface. I know a little bit about what the captain has done…what she, herself, has done to try and get this crew home, and I have no doubts that if we were to make this work, that this huge burden that she carries around all the time would be lifted, but there is something I don’t think you’ve considered."

"What?" asked Seven.

"Although going home might be just what Kathryn needs…it might not be in the best interest of the captain."

"Explain."

"How aware are you of Starfleet protocol?" asked B’Elanna carefully, not certain if she get into this subject with the Borg for fear that it would only frighten her more.

"I have sufficient data on the subject to perform my duties aboard the ship," answered Seven. "What are you not telling me?"

"Seven," Torres sighed, taking her hand away, "I don’t want to alarm you, but…there is a very good possibility that the captain could be in a lot of trouble once we get back to the Federation."

"What sort of ‘trouble?’"

"In all probability, she’ll be court-martialed," replied the brunette, the words stinging her tongue like acid as they were spoken.

"Explain this ‘court-martial.’ What will it entail?" requested Seven.

"I really don’t know all the much about it, but I know she could lose her command…lose her ship…get thrown in jail," said B’Elanna. "She’s broken some pretty big rules to keep us safe. I’m not saying I agree with the Federation’s rules, but it is a possibility. I don’t really think they’ll throw her in jail, but I’d be lying if I said I thought that they’d let her keep her command. Janeway is a loose cannon to Starfleet. She’s been operating on her own for seven years, not once having to take an order from anyone except maybe the Doctor here and there. That’s a big adjustment to make, and she’s made it well…but going back to taking orders is not as easy as it is to stop. She probably would scare that hell out of the admirals she used to report to now. Let’s face it…anyone that would brazenly walk up to the Borg Queen and demand to get her favorite ex-Borg back, has to have a few screws loose in Starfleet’s eyes."

"Indeed," Seven hissed, standing up and stalking around, clearly not liking this news at all. "This is unacceptable, B’Elanna Torres. I will not allow it."

"There’s nothing you can do, dollface…the captain would tell you the same thing. She’d say, and I quote, ‘I’m the captain. I take full responsibility for my actions.’"

"This situation is intolerable," Seven seethed, her voice low and menacing. "Kathryn cannot be happy in the Delta Quadrant, and the captain cannot be happy in the alternative, which means that she cannot be happy since it is not possible to separate one from the other." Turning around to B’Elanna, her face showing her agony, she asked, desperately, "What do you suggest?"

Thinking for a moment, she said, "Go with what we know." Standing and talking with her hands, working this dilemma out in her head, "We know she is lonely…desperately lonely. We know she has feelings for us both. We know she wants to go home…and remember, Janeway might be unhinged in Starfleet’s eyes, but you and I know better. She knows exactly what could happen to her probably better than you and I put together, yet…she still wants to go home. And, we don’t know what Starfleet will do. We know that there’s been a war while we’ve been gone, and the Federation is hurting big time for seasoned veterans like Janeway. They could very possibly look the other way, now that I think about it." Spurred on by this line of reasoning, she said, "Yes…that’s not even that unlikely, but there’s probably not much of a window…maybe a couple of years, assuming there are no other major threats to the Federation in the near future."

"Then you suggest that we attempt to bring the ship home as soon as possible as I first suggested?"

"Yes, I think you were right the first time…that might be the only way it could work…but there’s still a big if, Seven. There are lots of variables we have absolutely no control over."

"I understand," Seven nodded. "I will attempt to not ‘get my hopes up.’" Sitting back down, she said, "We should begin immediately."

Laughing and patting Seven on the hand, she said, "Agreed, but let’s have dinner first, okay?" When Seven smiled and nodded, she said, "And Seven…I know you don’t like hiding things from Red, but we’ve got to keep this under wraps for a while, or she’ll be all over our asses trying to figure out why the two women on her ship most scared of going back to the Alpha Quadrant are suddenly so intent on doing just that."

"I will comply."

Standing up and kissing Seven on the cheek, she said, "And let’s not give up on our original plan just yet, either...I know the captain is a tough cookie, but I’m not sure even the great Kathryn Janeway can resist us forever."

Taking B’Elanna’s face in her hand, Seven said, "I agree, B’Elanna Torres that resistance is sometimes quiet futile." Pressing her lips to the Klingon’s softly for a few seconds, then releasing her, knowing Kathryn would probably be back at any moment, she said, "Now, I believe you said you required my assistance with the ‘Devil’s spawn?’"

 

fin