chapter 34

 

 

Voyager’s senior staff transported to the Enterprise half an hour after the party began, “just enough to be fashionably late,” Gretchen assured them. Janeway felt a bit odd attending a Starfleet function with her mother—since her father’s death, her mom had backed away from most of the social aspects of Starfleet—but it was a nice feeling nonetheless.

Shortly after entering the party, they were scattered all over the room. Revi was pounced on almost immediately by a former crewmate from her time aboard the Prometheus, and the look on her face when she was enveloped in a hug was something Janeway didn’t think she’d ever forget. Revi introduced Seven with obvious pride, and the threesome wandered toward the refreshment table with the two former crewmates talking at warp speed. Chakotay and Tom met old crewmates as well, and Gretchen had barely walked in the doors before letting out a cry of delight at the sight of Captain T’wanor, whom Janeway remembered as a regular dinner guest at their house when she was still a cadet. The last Janeway saw of her mother, she and T’wanor had their heads together in what was no doubt an intense debate on what was new in the mathematical world.

Janeway and Lynne barely had the chance to move, having been surrounded by the officers of the Enterprise, and Janeway was kept busy for some time just with the introductions. Lynne was gracious and charming, remembering everyone’s names, ranks and associations with an ease that both of them now took for granted. Sometimes Janeway could almost wish for a cortical implant herself; the advantages were so many.

She saw a familiar interest in Will Riker’s eyes as he shook Lynne’s hand, and her territorial instinct came to the front. The last she’d known of Riker, he hadn’t always respected existing partnerships. But before she could formulate a polite way of telling him to keep his goddamn thoughts off her wife, she felt a gentle touch on her shoulder and looked up to see Deanna Troi. Deanna smiled and shook her head slightly, and Janeway lifted her eyebrows, then looked back at Riker. Ah. Now she got it—Riker had finally been tamed. She was going to have to arrange a quiet conversation with Counselor Troi; this sounded like an interesting story! When she met Deanna’s eyes again, the counselor winked, and Janeway had all she could do to keep from laughing.

“Kathryn says you come from the south of France,” said Lynne to Picard.

“Yes, a village called La Barre,” he answered.

She shook her head. “I’m not familiar with it. But I spent a lot of time climbing in both the French Alps and the Pyrenees, and I have to say I loved the Pyrenees best. Far fewer people and some really marvelous walls.”

Picard’s eyes lit up. “I can see the Pyrenees from my family’s vineyards,” he said. “Which areas did you climb in?”

And they were instantly lost to the rest of the group, talking happily about their memories of warm days and remote locations. Lynne was doing just fine, and Janeway watched her with a smile, feeling some of the tension leave her shoulders. She chatted with Troi and Beverly Crusher for several minutes, then took Crusher over to meet Revi. As Revi and Doctor Crusher shook hands and began to converse, Janeway drew Seven aside.

“How’s she doing?” she asked quietly.

“She’s surprised and happy,” said Seven with a smile. “The judgment she feared has not been in evidence.”

“Good. Seven, I didn’t get a chance to say this earlier, but if anything does happen, will you call me?”

“Thank you for your offer, Kathryn, but I believe that Revi and I can deal with any situation that might arise,” said Seven.

Janeway looked her in the eye. “Will you call your friend anyway?”

Seven met her gaze unblinkingly, then slowly nodded. “I would not call my captain, but I will call my friend if I can.”

Janeway smiled broadly and gave Seven a quick hug. “Thank you. And now I’d better get back to Lynne.”

“You might wish to hurry, Kathryn.” Seven indicated the door, where Necheyev and Paris stood, looking over the room. Even as Janeway watched, Necheyev began making her way purposefully toward Lynne and Picard. Janeway squeezed Seven’s shoulder and slipped through the crowd, making it to Lynne’s side seconds ahead of the admiral.

“Captain Picard…Captain Janeway,” said Necheyev, giving Janeway a quick nod and then focusing her gaze on Lynne. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting your wife.”

Subtle, thought Janeway. But she dutifully performed the introductions. “Admiral Necheyev, this is Lynne Hamilton. Lynne, my direct supervisor, Fleet Admiral Alynna Necheyev.”

They shook hands. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Admiral,” said Lynne politely.

“The pleasure is mine. I’m glad to see you out of sickbay. Your recovery is truly remarkable.”

The words were friendly enough, but Necheyev’s tone said something else, and Janeway could see the instant wariness in Lynne’s eyes.

“Well, it’s amazing what a few zillion nanoprobes can do for a person.”

“So I’ve heard. Your record is fascinating, Ms. Hamilton. I’d be interested in learning more about your experiences.”

“Which one? Being assimilated, killed, or resurrected?”

Janeway stared at her wife in surprise, as did Picard. Even Necheyev seemed to have been caught a bit off guard, but she recovered quickly.

“Any of them you’d prefer to discuss,” she answered.

“I’d prefer to discuss none of them, Admiral,” said Lynne. The edginess Janeway had previously heard in her voice was back, and much stronger now. “All three are rather intensely personal experiences and no one’s business but my own.”

Necheyev wasn’t fazed. “You’re on a Starfleet ship and currently contracted by Starfleet,” she said. “You’d be surprised how much of your business is not your own.”

Oh shit. This was getting unpleasant. Janeway opened her mouth to step in, but Lynne beat her to it.

“I can resign that contract at any second,” she said. Janeway snapped her mouth shut and groaned internally. Lynne was about to go off, she just knew it.

“And I’ll do exactly that if anyone starts trying to push me around,” Lynne continued. “I don’t play the game, Admiral. If you want to talk to me you’ll have to go about it in a different manner. I respect your rank and I respect the fact that you’re Kathryn’s supervisor, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to jump when you say so.” She stepped directly into Necheyev’s personal space, using her height to great effect. “Life is too damned short to waste time fucking around. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Janeway held her breath. Jesus Christ, the minute she and Lynne got back to their quarters, they were going to have a talk about Starfleet party protocols. This was a disaster.

But Necheyev just smiled up at Lynne. “Ms. Hamilton, I’ve been here for several minutes and my hands are still empty. Will you accompany me to the refreshment table?”

Lynne furrowed her brow, obviously taken by surprise. Then her forehead smoothed out and she smiled back. “Does that mean I passed your little test?”

Necheyev actually laughed. “With flying colors,” she said, and now her tone of voice was far more amiable. “You’ve got backbone. You’re going to need it.”

“I know.” Lynne moved to Necheyev’s side and shot Janeway a glance. “I’ll be glad to accompany you,” she said. “As long as there aren’t any more tests. And do you do that to everyone?”

“No.” Necheyev looked at Janeway. “Captain, I hope you don’t mind if I borrow your wife for a few minutes.”

“Not at all,” said Janeway, who was wondering what the hell had just happened.

With a quick nod of acknowledgment, Necheyev escorted Lynne toward the refreshment table.

“Cut from the herd,” said a new voice next to her. Janeway turned to see an unfamiliar woman wearing an extraordinary hat.

“Excuse me?”

The woman gave her a calm, knowing smile. “A twenty-first century idiom. It refers to a predator cutting a prey animal out of the herd, getting it away from the safety found in numbers. Admiral Necheyev just cut your wife from the herd.”

“Captain,” said Picard, “allow me to introduce Guinan. She’s in charge of this party, and a very good personal friend.”

Guinan put out her hand. “It’s my great pleasure to meet you, Captain Janeway.”

Feeling a bit dazed, Janeway shook her hand. “Thank you. Are you a historian?”

A gentle laugh accompanied Guinan’s head shake. “No. I’m a bartender.”

Janeway studied her. The calm aura surrounding this woman was palpable, and spoke of great experience and wisdom. She raised her eyebrows. “I think you’re a great deal more.”

“Is there any shame in being just a bartender?”

“No,” said Janeway. “But the average bartender isn’t familiar with twenty-first century idioms. Nor would she be familiar with my marital status or the identity of my wife.”

Guinan nodded solemnly. “I’ve held many positions in my lifetime. This is where I choose to be now. And Captain, though I used the metaphor of a predator, your wife is perfectly safe tonight.”

And the strange thing was, Janeway believed her, with a bone-deep conviction. “Thank you,” she said. “Though I was actually more worried about Admiral Necheyev’s safety. Lynne can be rather predatory herself.”

Picard smiled at that, but Guinan laughed delightedly, the rich and mellow sound putting Janeway even more at ease.

“You are both less and more than I expected, Captain. And that’s a good thing. Welcome back to the Alpha Quadrant.”

“Thank you.”

She kept an eye on Lynne and Necheyev while conversing with Picard and Guinan, and was relieved to see her mother make her way over to the pair. Gretchen met her eyes across the room and smiled at her, and Janeway raised her glass before returning her attention to Guinan. When an opening presented itself, she asked, “So tell me, how did you come by a knowledge of twenty-first century idioms? That’s a rather esoteric field.”

Picard’s face went still, but Guinan just smiled at her. “I’m a little older than I look,” she said.

Janeway stared. “At the risk of sounding rude, may I ask just how old you are?”

“You can ask.” Guinan’s smile didn’t falter. “Let’s just say that I remember your wife’s era.”

Janeway couldn’t believe it. “Are you saying you were on Earth in the twenty-first century?”

“It was an interesting time,” said Guinan.

Janeway looked at Picard, who nodded and gave her a small smile. She turned back to Guinan. “Then I would like to formally introduce you to Lynne. It would mean so much to her to meet you and speak with you.”

“I know. And we’ll talk. But she’s busy right now.”

Janeway followed Guinan’s gaze and saw her mother, the admiral, and Lynne all laughing. She shook her head. “I didn’t even know Necheyev was capable of laughing.”

“Neither did I,” said Picard. He met Janeway’s eyes with an almost comical expression of shock. His own prickly relationship with Necheyev was well known throughout Starfleet.

“Is this judgmentalism a characteristic of all Starfleet captains, or just you two?” asked Guinan. “Everyone is capable of laughter. And the Admiral is a good deal more than you seem to realize.” She leveled a stern gaze at Picard.

“I’ll take that under advisement,” said Picard. Janeway smiled; they seemed a bit like an old married couple. When Guinan winked at her, she wanted to laugh. Yes, these two were going to be fun. Who knew that the great Jean-Luc Picard was actually quietly ruled by his bartender?

 

 

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B’Elanna looked back at her father-in-law. “I thought you said she was a battle-axe.”

“Shh!” Admiral Owen Paris put a finger to his lips, then smiled. “If you ever repeat that, I’ll deny it.” He glanced at the threesome by the refreshment table and shook his head. “But I’ve known Alynna Necheyev for over twenty years, and I’ve never heard her laugh like that. I didn’t know she could.”

“Well, if anyone could make her laugh, it would be Lynne.” B’Elanna could hardly take her eyes off her friend, who seemed utterly unaffected by her death. B’Elanna herself hadn’t even begun to adjust to the events on Terellia. Watching her friend die on a system-wide transmission was the stuff of nightmares. But seeing Janeway break down like that had torn B’Elanna apart. Her captain and her friend—the woman she looked to as her rock of security and calm competence, the woman who stared death in the face and never flinched—had suddenly become shockingly, heartbreakingly human. The tears had rolled down B’Elanna’s face as she’d watched Janeway caressing Lynne’s hair and talking to her, long after she was dead. The transmission hadn’t picked up Janeway’s words, but it didn’t have to. The absolute devastation on her face and the gentle way she touched her dead wife said everything. Janeway hardly ever showed it to her crew, but there was no doubt that she loved Lynne with every fiber of her being.

And now, impossibly, there Lynne was, wrapping an arm around Gretchen Janeway’s shoulders and smiling broadly at Admiral Necheyev. Then her gaze shifted and she met B’Elanna’s eyes, almost as if she’d heard her thoughts. The smile turned into a full grin as Lynne nodded at her, and the connection soothed B’Elanna in a way she couldn’t define. Maybe it was just the security of knowing that her world was still all right. Or maybe she was just hormonal. She returned the gesture and watched as Lynne’s attention was once again claimed by the Admiral.

“She’s your friend?” asked Owen, who had seen the exchange.

“More than that,” said B’Elanna. “She’s Miral’s godmother.”

“Then she must be special.” Owen beamed at her; his pride in being a future grandfather was palpable. B’Elanna had only met her father-in-law yesterday, but she already had him pegged as a pushover. Tom had told her that he’d never seen his father act the way he did around her, which B’Elanna could only take on faith. She personally couldn’t see any sign of the overbearing and sometimes harsh father Tom had spoken of in the earlier days of their relationship.

“Who’s the godfather?” was Owen’s next question.

“Harry Kim,” said Tom.

“Your best friend,” Owen said, and Tom nodded.

“Yeah. He’s a good man and a great friend. I think he’ll be a wonderful godfather.”

“As long as he doesn’t try to teach Miral the clarinet,” said B’Elanna.

“Oh, come on, B’Elanna, Harry’s great on the clarinet.” Tom leapt to his friend’s defense, and B’Elanna smiled. He was so predictable.

“Sure, Harry is,” she said. “But have you ever heard a beginner play a clarinet? My Academy roommate had a little sister who was just learning, and she came to visit us one weekend with her clarinet in hand. She had to practice for a recital, and we had to leave the building. I’m surprised our windows didn’t shatter.”

“Better that than a violin,” said Owen, an unmistakable twinkle in his eye. “Thank god Tom gave up on his plans to be a famous violinist before I lost my hearing altogether.”

B’Elanna turned to Tom, her mouth open. “You played the violin?”

“‘Play’ is a relative term,” said Owen, and chuckled at the look on Tom’s face.

“I was only ten years old,” protested Tom. “It looked so easy when my music teacher played it.”

B’Elanna was loving this. “I can just see you as a little boy with a violin tucked under your chin. I’ll bet you were adorable.”

Tom frowned. “I was never adorable.”

“Yes, he was,” said Owen.

“Dad!”

Owen turned to him with a knowing smile. “Well, if it’s any consolation, you turned into a hellion soon enough. Does that make you feel any better?”

“Actually, no,” said Tom. “Because now I’m worried about Miral doing the same thing.”

“Ah, yes.” Owen looked mightily pleased. “Every parent’s dream, seeing their children have children just like themselves. The universe is full of change, but fortunately there are some constants.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” said B’Elanna. “Why should I be punished for Tom’s hellion ways as a child?”

“Oh, and you were so much better,” Tom scoffed.

Owen laughed at them. “You two are in trouble.”

They looked at each other and spoke nearly in unison.

“We know.”

 

 

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Seven reveled in the emotions coming down their link. Revi and her former shipmate—a nurse named Lieutenant Allman—had barely paused for breath since their meeting two point four hours ago. Revi had initially been shocked by Allman’s exuberant greeting, but now she was relaxed, happy, and completely immersed in the news that Allman had been sharing about mutual acquaintances and her work on the Enterprise. Seven was more than content to watch them and bask in Revi’s happiness. She hadn’t known what to expect at this party, but it wasn’t this.

For her part, she was still processing her own reaction to meeting Captain Picard, Locutus of Borg. Kathryn had introduced him, shooting her a glance that Seven knew was meant to remind her of the proper address. She had raised an eyebrow; surely Kathryn didn’t think she would forget? And Kathryn had smiled at her, the expression on her face an acknowledgment that no, she didn’t think Seven would forget, but neither was she taking chances.

Nonverbal communication. Seven had become far more proficient in this field over the last year.

As they shook hands and spoke, Picard had looked her right in the eyes, his gaze never wandering to her visible implants. He was friendly, polite, and obviously highly intelligent, but Seven didn’t sense the aura of power and energy that she always associated with Kathryn. She had assumed that this was a trait common to Starfleet captains, but apparently it was not. In fact, Seven would never have identified Captain Picard as a man capable of destroying a Borg cube and killing the Queen. She watched Picard and Kathryn as they stood side by side, in their matching uniforms with their chests nearly obscured by medals and ribbons, and marveled at how very different they were. And yet, she knew from Starfleet records and the Collective’s memory that Picard was a very dangerous man.

She had expected so much more. It was almost a disappointment to finally meet him.

After he and Kathryn had moved on, Seven’s thoughts had gone to her impressions of Kathryn when they had first met on the Borg cube. She’d dismissed the small woman before her as a non-threat, useful only for her technological information. The Collective had agreed with her. It was, she realized now, the second time that the Collective had made a fatal misjudgment of a human Starfleet captain.

As Lieutenant Allman described her experiences on the Enterprise and answered Revi’s questions, Seven turned her head to locate the two captains who had been occupying her thoughts. Picard was across the room, speaking with a Vulcan captain she did not recognize. Kathryn was at the bar, sitting on a stool next to Lynne, her posture relaxed and her expression happy. Seven smiled. Lynne had taught her an idiom that seemed to apply to Picard and Kathryn, about not judging a book by its cover. She wondered if the Collective had yet learned from its mistakes. No, she decided, it hadn’t. Because the Queen had come after Kathryn again, despite losing the first time—and had, once again, been defeated. Even her assimilation of Lynne had ultimately benefited Kathryn, and so the Queen had, indirectly, made Kathryn’s continued existence possible.

Seven concluded that she had become far more human in recent months, because she found that irony to be truly satisfying.

: Me too. :

She turned to Revi upon hearing her thought, and saw her partner direct a quick smile at her before looking back at Lieutenant Allman.

“Anyway,” said Allman, “I’ve learned a lot and the posting is everything I could have hoped for, but she still isn’t you.”

“Becca, she’s one of the best doctors in the Federation. I’d be thrilled to work with her,” said Revi.

“Well, I know she’s the best. That’s why I wanted this posting. But she’s very professional.”

“Oh, and I wasn’t?” Revi’s voice indicated outrage, but Seven knew she was thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to tease the lieutenant.

Allman grinned at her. “You know what I mean. You were one of the most competent, professional doctors I’ve ever known, but you were also fun. We joked around. You made sickbay more than just a workplace. Doctor Crusher doesn’t joke much; she’s pretty serious about things.”

“Maybe she has a lot to be serious about.”

Allman looked at her thoughtfully, then turned to Seven. “Seven, does Revi joke around now? And tease? And generally act like she hasn’t grown up yet?”

“Yes,” said Seven instantly.

: Thanks a lot, darling. :  But Revi’s thought was affectionate, and Seven smiled at her.

: Your “juvenile behavior” is one of the things I love about you. :

: And you’ve learned so much from it, haven’t you? :  Revi winked at her, and Seven rolled her eyes.

Allman was looking at Revi again. “Please forgive me if I’m stepping out of bounds,” she said. “But I think if anyone has a lot to be serious about, it would be you. And yet, you obviously still love life. It’s one of the things that sets you apart, Revi. I’d go back to work for you in a heartbeat.”

Revi was stunned speechless, and Allman took her silence as an indictment.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No,” said Revi faintly. “No,” and her voice was stronger, “it’s okay, Becca. I’m just…I haven’t been the person you remember. Not for a long time. It’s…a little shocking to know that you see me that way now.”

“I do,” said Allman earnestly. “Revi, I have no idea what you must have gone through. I can see there’s a sadness about you that was never there before. But I also see that your spirit is still there. They didn’t break your spirit. And I think that’s so amazing. You’re amazing, and I can’t get over the fact that you’re back.”

Seven had to consciously raise her blocks against the storm of emotions raging through Revi’s mind; the force of them nearly sent her staggering as it was. She put a gentle hand on Revi’s shoulder, trying to anchor her with a physical touch, but Revi moved out from under her hand as she surged forward and scooped Allman into her arms.

“Becca,” she said, her voice trembling, “you have no idea what that means to me. Thank you so much.”

Allman looked surprised, then happy as she tightened her own arms around Revi. “Just calling ‘em like I see ‘em, Doc.”

“I know.” Revi laughed, a little shakily, but Seven could feel her joy. “That’s why I always loved having you in my sickbay. And I can see you haven’t changed much in twelve years. If you wanted to come back to work for me I’d take you in a millisecond and count myself lucky.”

They separated and beamed at each other. “So do you have any openings, then?” asked Allman.

“I have absolutely no fucking idea,” said Revi, and when Allman burst into laughter she joined in.

“Now that’s what I really missed about you!” Allman wiped her eyes as she grinned. “Crusher never swears.”

“Oh, I’d bet she does,” said Revi. “She’s probably just a bit more discreet about it than I am.”

Seven opened her mouth to interject a comment on Revi’s discretion, but closed it again when she saw the lieutenant in command red who had just come through the doors. Though Seven was still learning to read humanoid facial expressions and body language, the rage radiating from this woman was unmistakable. And she was looking right at them.

No, she was looking right at Revi.

Revi glanced up and then followed Seven’s gaze; her emotions shifting in an instant from happiness to dread. “Maris,” she whispered, and the memories crashed into Seven’s mind with stunning force. She instantly understood Revi’s dread.

“What?” Allman looked toward the door as well. “Shit! She said she wasn’t going to come!” Worriedly she met Revi’s eyes. “Watch out, Revi. She’s never forgiven you.”

Revi said nothing, and the three of them watched the woman approach.

Maris was Bajoran, red-haired and, Seven supposed, empirically attractive. But the expression on her face was anything but attractive, and she walked with the exaggerated care that Seven had learned to associate with individuals whose reflexes had been impaired by synthehol.

“She’s been drinking,” she said.

“Yeah, I noticed that too.” Allman sounded disgusted. “Get ready for a scene. She’s nasty when she’s drunk.”

“If she lays a finger on Revi I will remove it from her hand,” said Seven. She meant it.

“Oh, she’s not a violent drunk,” said Allman. “Just a sharp-tongued one.”

Still Revi said nothing, and her emotions were strangely muted now. Seven recognized the pattern; Revi was shutting herself down in self-defense. It hadn’t happened for some time, and Seven was not happy to see it now. If the mere presence of this Maris could cause such a reaction, then Seven would make sure the woman never came near Revi again.

Maris was so focused on Revi that she walked right into B’Elanna Torres, who was standing with Tom and a dark-skinned man in an operations uniform several meters away. Seven’s enhanced hearing could make out Maris’ insincere apology and B’Elanna’s doubtful response. As Maris moved past them, B’Elanna looked after her, meeting Seven’s eyes. A moment later she gave her drink to Tom and followed Maris, who was unaware that she’d picked up a shadow.

“Who’s that?” asked Allman.

“Lieutenant B’Elanna Torres,” said Seven. “Chief Engineer of Voyager and a very good friend.”

“And someone you want on your side in a fight, I’m guessing.”

“Not just in a fight.” Revi spoke for the first time. “She and I have recently become friends. I want her on my side all the time.”

“Well, it looks like she’s there.”

They watched in silence as Maris and B’Elanna closed the distance. Maris came to a stop right in front of Revi, still unaware of B’Elanna standing just behind her.

“Hello, Maris,” said Revi quietly.

A shiver ran through Maris’ body. “I heard you were coming,” she said, her voice low and full of hatred. “But I didn’t think you’d have the balls to show your face here.”

“Maris,” said Allman, “it wasn’t her fault. Don’t do this.”

Maris showed no sign of hearing her. “You fucking bitch,” she hissed. “I’ve waited a long time for this.” She lifted a closed fist and drew it back, only to have it caught and held.

“Don’t even think about it,” B’Elanna said. “Or I’ll break your wrist. I thought you were trouble.”

The five women stood frozen—until Maris suddenly drove her other elbow into B’Elanna’s abdomen, who grunted and let her go as she bent over in pain.

“No!” shouted Revi, pushing Maris to one side as she caught B’Elanna and supported her. “B’Elanna…take slow, deep breaths.”

Seven’s rage was instantly out of her control, and all she could think about was destroying the woman who had threatened her partner and hurt B’Elanna.

“You will be terminated,” she growled, and took a savage satisfaction in the instant terror she saw in Maris’ eyes.

 

 

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“You were at Expo ’86?” Lynne’s tone clearly showed her delight, as did the wide grin on her face. “When?”

“July,” said Guinan.

“July! Fuck! That’s when I was there! Did you see the Inuit Throat Singers?”

“Yes, weren’t they astonishing? To this day I have no idea how they produced those sounds. Did you see k.d. lang with the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra backing her up?”

“Oh, god, I did! It was one of the best concerts I’ve ever been to! I can’t believe you were there!”

Janeway sat on her stool, quietly sipping her drink as the two women compared notes. She hadn’t expected to actually enjoy herself at this party—but Lynne was so excited that she was practically quivering with it, and Janeway was completely happy just watching her.

Guinan seemed to be having a great time as well; her smile was wider than Janeway had seen it earlier in the party. But then, thought Janeway with no little pride, few could resist Lynne when she was like this. Her excitement tended to affect everyone around her.

“Not only was I there, I took k.d. out for a drink after the concert,” said Guinan.

Lynne’s eyes were huge. “You did not!”

“Yes, I did.” Guinan nodded. “She was a friend of a friend, and I asked for an introduction. I wanted to know more about a woman who didn’t capitalize her name.”

“I read that it was a tribute to e.e. cummings,” said Lynne. “Which is kind of funny considering that cummings apparently didn’t like his name not being capitalized. He said his use of lowercase in his poetry had nothing to do with his actual name, but nobody listened. Did she tell you?”

Guinan grinned. “Yes. It wasn’t about cummings. It was about forcing people to think.”

“That’s not surprising. She was totally out in a time when that was pretty gutsy.”

Janeway interrupted. “What do you mean by ‘out’?”

“Openly gay,” said Lynne. “That could have been the kiss of death to her career. But it wasn’t.”

“No,” said Guinan. “Her voice was too beautiful.” She sighed. “It’s a pity so much was lost in the war. I was elsewhere for quite some time, and when I returned there had been an enormous loss of culture and history.”

Lynne raised an eyebrow. “So, Guinan, what would you give me for a k.d. lang album?”

Guinan gave her an incredulous look. “Are you telling me you have one?”

“Mm hm.” Lynne smiled. “More than one. I brought back a few things from my trip to Earth in an effort to plug that cultural hole.”

“Absolute Torch and Twang?” Guinan’s voice was hopeful.

“I cannot believe you remember album titles from four hundred years ago.”

“I remember everything. Do you have it?”

“Of course.” Lynne was nonchalant.

“Name your price,” said Guinan instantly.

Lynne laughed. “Geez, Guinan, I can tell you don’t do much negotiation.”

“There should never be negotiation for things of beauty. They are a gift to us all.”

Janeway grinned at the look on Lynne’s face. “Well, Lynne, I think you just got thoroughly outmaneuvered,” she said.

Lynne shook her head. “You’re taking a chance, appealing to my good nature. How do you know I have one?”

“Because I listen.” Guinan smiled at her, then cocked her head. Her expression became quite serious. “Lynne, Captain—your friends need you.”

Following her gaze, Janeway felt her heart drop into her boots. Revi, Seven and Revi’s former crewmate were faced off against a woman with command red across her shoulders, and though her back was to Janeway, the threat in her stance was plain to see. Just behind her stood B’Elanna. Even as she watched, the woman raised her fist to strike Revi and B’Elanna stopped her.

“Shit!” Lynne exploded off her stool and was halfway across the room before Janeway could even move. She thumped her drink on the counter and followed as quickly as she could without actually running, hoping Lynne could control her protective instincts. The last thing they needed was a brawl, with two admirals and forty-five captains in attendance. As she hurried in Lynne’s wake, she saw the woman hit B’Elanna in the stomach, and her own protectiveness came roaring to the front. But then she saw the look on Seven’s face, and suddenly the situation turned into far more than a scuffle. Whoever that woman was, she was seconds away from death.

 

 

-----

 

 

Seven raised her left hand, already anticipating the feel of Maris’ throat being crushed in her Borg-enhanced fingers. She could almost taste the fear of the woman opposite her, and it only fueled her rage. But then a white flash appeared from nowhere and her hand was caught in an unbreakable grip.

“Seven, no!” Lynne shouted, pushing her backwards.

Seven fought to get free. “Let me go! She’s a threat; she must be terminated.” Surely Lynne would understand!

“That’s not how it works here. You know that!” Lynne forced her arm down, the strength in her prosthetic arm overpowering Seven’s more biological one. “Seven, listen to me!”

“No!” Seven redoubled her efforts.

“SEVEN OF NINE, STAND DOWN!” The voice cut through her rage and she stopped struggling, staring with wide eyes into the face of her captain. Behind her she saw Tom Paris running up.

“Just what the hell is going on here?” demanded Kathryn, her furious gaze sweeping the group.

When no one answered, she turned to Revi. “Is B’Elanna okay?”

“I’m okay,” said B’Elanna, slowly straightening with Revi’s support. “I just didn’t expect it. I was more worried than hurt.”

“B’Elanna!” Tom arrived breathlessly and wrapped his arm around B’Elanna’s other side.

“The baby’s fine,” Revi told him.

“You’re pregnant?” gasped Maris.

If looks could kill, Maris would have been vaporized by B’Elanna’s glare. “Yes, you fucking p’tahk, I’m pregnant. And if you’d done any damage nobody could have saved you.”

Kathryn laid a gentle hand on B’Elanna’s arm, and Seven watched as her friend visibly calmed. She could feel her own anger calming as well, and let her arm relax in Lynne’s grip. Their eyes met, and a moment later Lynne stepped to her side, sliding her hand down her arm and clasping their fingers together. The gesture gave Seven a warm sense of comfort.

With a final nod to B’Elanna, Kathryn turned to face Maris.

“I want an explanation, Lieutenant. And you’d better have a damned good reason for an unprovoked assault on a superior officer.”

Not only was Maris drunk, Seven thought, but she apparently didn’t realize who she was speaking to. It was the only explanation for what she said.

“You’re not my captain. I don’t owe you anything.”

An icily calm, masculine voice interrupted. “But I am your captain, Lieutenant Maris, and now you owe both of us an explanation, as well as a formal apology to Captain Janeway.”

Maris stiffened and turned to face Captain Picard. “Captain!”

“Well?” he said. “I’m waiting, and I assure you that I’m not feeling very patient at the moment. You’re already up for one count of insubordination; don’t make it two.”

Maris pointed at Revi. “This woman is a danger to the ship, Captain. She shouldn’t be allowed to run free!”

“Indeed.” Picard was visibly unimpressed. “On what do you base this accusation?”

Maris glared at Revi. “She betrayed her crew and killed dozens of them! Maybe hundreds, who knows? You’re a murderer!” she shouted suddenly, her rage breaking the confines of her tenuous control. “You murdered her! How could you do it? How dare you come back here?”

Revi’s face was impassive, but her mind was not. Her agony cut into Seven with a sharpness that instantly reignited her anger, and she stepped forward only to be jerked to a halt by Lynne.

“Starfleet does not hold Commander Sandovhar responsible for her actions while assimilated,” said Picard in that calm voice. “In addition, she wears a Citation for Valor on her uniform. Perhaps you didn’t notice that, Lieutenant. She’s a hero, not a murderer.”

“She’s not a hero! She’s a Borg!”

“That is enough, Lieutenant!” Picard’s voice crackled with anger, and Maris subsided.

“Captain Picard, if I may?” Revi’s tone was low and calm. Picard looked at her in surprise before nodding, and Kathryn stepped back as Revi walked up to Maris.

“Do you honestly think for one minute that I wanted to do that?” she asked quietly. “Do you think that was voluntary? I fought it with everything I had, Maris. She may have been your best friend, but she was my wife. If I could have, I would have taken my own life before harming her. But that’s not an option when you’ve been assimilated. You have absolutely no control over your body or your mind. And the true hell of it is that there’s a tiny bit of your mind left to you, just enough to see what you’re doing and to feel the horror of it. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. It’s far worse than death.”

“Then why are you alive now?” hissed Maris. “You’re not assimilated any more. You’re perfectly free to kill yourself. She deserves that justice.”

Seven’s eyes widened and she pulled at Lynne’s hand again, to no avail. Lynne leaned in and whispered in her ear.

“I know, Seven. I want to shut her up, too. But Revi needs to handle this.”

Seven stopped her movements, though not because of Lynne’s words. She had been shocked into immobility by an explosion in Revi’s mind: first a flash of rage that made her wince even with her blocks up, then an absolutely blinding self-realization. When the emotion finally died down, Seven sensed an assurance and a confidence that took her breath away. She stared, hardly recognizing the woman at the other end of her link. Revi had changed rapidly after her Gifting, but now, in the space of mere seconds, she had changed again. To Seven it almost seemed as if she’d just watched a star go nova—the brilliance of the emotions had been that overwhelming. And what was left behind was a woman stripped down to a core of pure strength, which was growing with every passing second.

: Revi… :

: I’m okay, Seven. :  Revi didn’t take her eyes off Maris, who had a surprised look on her face. Seven wondered if the smaller woman could see what was so obvious in their link—that her hateful words, designed to wound deeply, had simply—bounced off. A few weeks ago, such an attack would have sent Revi spiraling into despair. But not now. Her ascent from the depths of her guilt and pain was still very recent, but Seven could feel her absolute refusal to be pushed back. There was a solid assurance in her mind, and even as Seven watched and listened, that assurance grew. She consciously dropped her blocks, wanting to feel this in its glorious totality. It continued to increase and expand, to unbelievable proportions, enveloping her mind with a heat that did not burn.

Wide-eyed, she watched as her partner seemed to grow several centimeters taller, towering over Maris. She knew, of course, that Revi was the same height she had always been—but there was a power about her now that was very similar to Kathryn’s, and Maris was plainly sensing it.

“Maris,” Revi said in a tone that seemed dangerous for its very calmness, “I’ve had enough of this idiocy. You go right ahead and hate me all you want. You have no idea what you’re talking about, and I refuse to let you dictate how I should feel. I’ve been to hell and back twice now, and I won’t let you or anyone else send me there again. I know what I’ve done. And I know I did everything possible to avoid it, and everything possible to make up for it. So you can just take your ignorance and your judgment and shove them right up your ass, because I don’t want any part of them. And you know what else? If Steph were here now, she’d slap you right across the face.”

Maris blanched, and Revi gave her a distinctly frosty smile. “I’d do it for her, but I think you’ve already done enough damage to yourself. Don’t come near me again. Not unless it’s to apologize.”

“I will never—”

But Maris was cut off by Captain Picard. “Lieutenant,” he said, “not another word. You can speak at your hearing, but you’re done here.” Tapping his comm badge, he called security to the room. They all stood in silence until two officers came and removed Maris, who went without protest. Only then did Lynne release Seven’s hand, instead wrapping a gentle arm around her waist.

“Captain Janeway,” said Picard, “You will receive a formal apology from Lieutenant Maris. In the meantime, please accept mine. I am profoundly embarrassed that any crewmember of mine would behave in such a fashion.”

Kathryn nodded. “I accept, but I’m not the only injured party here. I would like the Lieutenant’s formal apology to extend to Commander Sandovhar and Lieutenant Torres.”

“Agreed,” said Picard. He looked at B’Elanna and Revi. “Will you accept my apology for now?”

“Of course,” said Revi, and B’Elanna nodded.

“Will their testimony be required at the hearing?” asked Kathryn.

“I’ll try to avoid it,” said Picard. Smiling at Revi and B’Elanna, he added, “I assume you have better things to do in the next few weeks than take part in a disciplinary hearing.”

“That’s for damned sure,” said B’Elanna. Her eyes widened and she quickly amended, “I mean, yes, sir.”

Picard chuckled. “I thought you might.”

“Captain,” said Revi. “Though I have no interest in testifying, I would like to register a personal recommendation with you.”

“Go ahead,” he said.

“It’s been eleven years and she still hasn’t dealt with what happened at Wolf 359,” Revi said. “I think she needs counseling far more than punishment.” She took a deep breath. “She personally witnessed me assimilate her best friend. That would drive almost anyone to violence.”

Picard gazed at her for a moment before speaking. “Your compassion does you great credit, Commander, and I’ll make the recommendation. But I think your behavioral expectations are a little low. You have every reason to hate me, yet you treat me with respect. Why should Lieutenant Maris not be held to the same standards?”

They looked at each other in understanding; and Seven knew without a doubt that Captain Picard carried the same guilt that Revi did. It gave her an entirely different view of him. Locutus of Borg had been a strategy gone wrong; a small, individual human who had managed to turn the Collective’s strength into a weakness and use that weakness to destroy a cube. But not before the drones on that cube had used his knowledge to destroy forty ships and kill or assimilate eleven thousand individuals at Wolf 359.

Captain Picard—or more specifically, his knowledge—was responsible for Revi’s assimilation.

“Would you have stopped it if you could?” asked Revi.

Picard’s gaze was steady. “If I could have killed myself to prevent it, I would have.”

“Then I have no reason to hate you.” Revi held out her hand, and Captain Picard took it in a firm clasp.

“Commander Sandovhar,” he said with a smile, “if you find yourself looking for a berth anytime in the near future, I would consider myself fortunate to have you on the Enterprise.”

“Hey, watch it, Picard,” said Kathryn. “Don’t even think about raiding my crew.”

“I wouldn’t consider it.” Picard flashed a smile at her. “But I would be remiss in my duty if I didn’t make sure the good doctor was aware of her options.”

“Thank you, Captain,” said Revi. “It’s good to know I have a place here if I want it. But I’ve kind of gotten used to being the CMO; I’m not sure I could go back to being a subordinate.”

“I understand,” said Picard. “Well, I must get back to being the host. Please enjoy the rest of your evening, and if you need anything at all, tell Guinan. She’ll take care of you.”

He smiled and left, and Kathryn looked at her crew members in turn. “I’m sorry this happened,” she said. “But I’m proud of all of you for supporting each other and keeping this from turning into something very unpleasant.”

Seven flinched; she knew Kathryn’s words were meant for Revi, B’Elanna and Lynne. Not for her. And sure enough, when she raised her eyes, Kathryn was looking right at her.

“I apologize, Captain,” she said before Kathryn could utter another word. “I know I’ve failed to live up to your expectations.”

“Walk with me, Seven,” said Kathryn. Without waiting for acknowledgment, she turned and made her way toward the doors.

Seven met Revi’s eyes briefly as she followed her captain. And she recognized the distinction keenly: it was her captain she was following, not her friend.

: Seven. It’ll be okay. :

Seven walked around a group of laughing officers, her own heart sinking. : It’s not okay. I failed her, and I failed you. :

: You did not fail us; you acted in defense of the people you love. You just need to adjust it down a notch or two. And that’s all Kathryn is going to tell you. :

: But I don’t know what to say to her. When Maris threatened you and hurt B’Elanna, something inside me snapped. I wanted to kill her. :

: I know. I felt it. And I’m at fault too, for being so wrapped up in my own feelings and my concern for B’Elanna that I couldn’t connect with you and help you. Seven, you’re not a violent woman. You’ve killed, and so have I, but you know what? Neither of us are murderers. :  Revi’s mind projected a belief that was absolute, and it wrapped around Seven with a warm strength. Suddenly her world seemed a lot brighter. Maybe she’d failed, but Revi was there to support her.

: Of course I am, darling. I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it. Believe me, it’s not a hardship. :

: I love you, Revi. :  The doors opened and Seven stepped into the empty corridor. Empty but for one person.

: I love you too. There is no other. :

Seven had to stretch her legs to catch up with Kathryn, who hadn’t slowed down.

“I’m sorry, Captain,” she said as she drew alongside the smaller woman.

“Seven, we’re alone. Call me Kathryn.”

Suddenly Seven wanted to cry. “But you’re not.”

Kathryn stopped and looked at her. “What?”

It was hard for Seven to talk around the lump in her throat. “You’re not Kathryn right now. You’re my captain.”

Kathryn’s eyes drifted to the left, and Seven’s hearing picked up footsteps. Tapping her comm badge, Kathryn said, “Janeway to Voyager. Two to beam directly to my quarters.”

“Acknowledged.”

A moment later they stood alone in Kathryn and Lynne’s living room.

“Seven, sit down.”

Miserably, Seven sat. Kathryn joined her, sitting close enough that Seven could feel her body heat.

“What happened?” asked Kathryn softly.

Seven looked up in surprise. She hadn’t expected that tone of voice. But Kathryn was looking at her with no censure on her face; her expression was open and questioning.

“I saw Lieutenant Maris standing just inside the entrance,” Seven began. “She was looking at Revi with a clear hatred, and when she approached I determined that she was drunk. Lieutenant Allman indicated that Maris had said she would not attend the party, and further explained that Maris had never forgiven Revi for assimilating Steph.”

Kathryn’s jaw tightened, but she nodded. “Go on.”

“Maris did not allow for sufficient clearance when she passed B’Elanna, and their bodies collided. B’Elanna then watched her come toward us and followed her.”

“Which is how she came to be standing right behind Maris.”

“Yes. Revi greeted Maris, and Maris said she didn’t think Revi would ‘have the balls’ to show her face. Then Allman said it wasn’t Revi’s fault and asked her not to do it. And Maris called Revi a ‘fucking bitch,’ said she’d waited a long time for this, and prepared to strike Revi with a closed fist.”

“I saw that,” said Kathryn. “B’Elanna stopped her from behind, but Maris elbowed her in the stomach. And then I saw the look on your face.”

Seven dropped her head. “I wished to terminate her.”

There was a silence, during which Seven could not look up. Then came the question, in a quiet voice.

“If Lynne hadn’t stopped you, would you have killed her?”

“I wanted to,” whispered Seven.

Gentle fingers lifted her chin, and she reluctantly met Kathryn’s eyes.

“Seven, I didn’t ask if you wanted to. I asked if you would have. Can you tell me, with certainty, that if Lynne hadn’t been there you would have carried out the termination?”

Seven considered the question. Would she? She remembered feeling the anticipation, enjoying the fear on the other woman’s face. She had wanted so desperately to fasten her hand around Maris’ throat. She hadn’t been in control.

: Think, Seven. Desire doesn’t necessarily translate to action. You knew I was in no immediate danger. :

Seven was grateful for Revi’s voice. : No. But I was so angry. :

: You can’t control your feelings. You can control your actions. Think. :

Seven opened her mind to Revi, and when she refocused on Kathryn—who had not moved a muscle in the one point six minutes that she and Revi had been working together—she had her answer.

“No. I do not believe I could have completed the act. There was no immediate physical danger.”

Kathryn nodded. “All right. I needed to know that. And I think you did, too.”

Seven looked at her and wanted nothing in the world so much as a hug.

: Then ask her, Seven. She’ll give you one. :

“Kathryn…” Seven swallowed hard. “May I have a hug?”

“Oh, Seven, of course you can.” Kathryn shifted closer and wrapped her arms around Seven, who sighed happily and leaned her head on her friend’s shoulder.

“Seven,” said Kathryn in a low, gentle voice, “in another day I won’t be your captain anymore. Just your friend. That’s going to change things for us.”

“I understand.”

“Do you?” Kathryn rubbed her back in slow circles, and Seven felt herself relaxing. “Because I don’t know how it’ll be different. Just that it will be. But I don’t want us to lose our connection.”

“We will never lose our connection.” Seven was certain of that. “I won’t allow it. Neither will Revi.”

Kathryn chuckled. “Well, there’s a vote of confidence.” She squeezed Seven. “I’d like to ask you to do something. It’s not an order, because in another day I won’t be able to give you orders, but I’m asking this as a friend.”

Seven pulled back, meeting Kathryn’s gaze. “What is it?”

“I’d like you to see a counselor.” Seeing Seven’s instant resistance, she added, “That doesn’t mean anything is wrong with you or that you’re any less than anyone else. It just means that I think you have a lot of adjusting to do now that we’re home, and as much as Revi and Lynne and B’Elanna and I all want to help, we may not be able to do as much as a professional counselor.”

“Will you be seeing one?” asked Seven pointedly.

Kathryn opened her mouth, paused, and shut it again, shaking her head. “This isn’t about me.”

“I disagree. This is about adjustment to being home, as you said. You’ve been absent for seven years. Do you not require assistance?”

“Seven…”

“I do not wish to share personal details of my life with a stranger. I’ve progressed to my current level of humanity without engaging in this practice, and I do not see why I should begin now.”

“Seven.” Kathryn’s voice was firm. “Let me be a little more clear. Ten minutes ago Lynne physically restrained you from assaulting Maris. You admitted that you wanted to kill her. While I agree that you would not have completed the act, the fact remains that you had a violent reaction, and you need to learn to control that. We aren’t in the Delta Quadrant anymore. Out there we were often in life or death situations, and violent reactions were sometimes necessary. They’re not now—or at least, they shouldn’t be when we’re in the company of our own people. Your protective feelings are understandable and normally desirable, but if they get out of control it won’t just be you who’ll pay for it. Revi will pay, too.”

Seven was stunned by her words. She stared at Kathryn, who met her gaze evenly.

“Do you think so little of me?” asked Seven at last. “That I won’t be able to control my impulses in the future? That I’m a…a danger to others?”

Kathryn’s expression gentled. “No,” she said softly, reaching out for Seven’s hand. “I think you’re more in control than the average person. But you have an extremely fierce instinct for protection of the people you love. I understand it because I have it myself. But I’ve learned not to let mine dictate my actions.” One side of her mouth quirked up. “Well, most of the time, anyway. Seven, I just don’t want to see you do something in the heat of the moment that you’ll regret for the rest of your life. What I saw tonight worried me. I know you would never act without provocation, but I’m concerned that when you are provoked, you might not be able to control your instinctive reaction. A good counselor can give you the tools you need to make sure that doesn’t happen. That’s all I’m saying. And,” she added, “I don’t think little of you. I think you’re one of the most admirable, trustworthy and wonderful individuals I’ve ever known, and I’m proud to be your friend.”

Seven looked down at their entwined fingers, then back into the face of the woman she admired more than any other, save one.

“You’re not my friend,” she said. She saw the flash of hurt cross Kathryn’s face, and hastened to add, “You’re my family. What you want matters to me. But I am…uncertain that I will gain any benefit from seeing a counselor.”

: I think you would, Seven. And so would I. We could go together. :

Seven was startled. Revi wanted to go to counseling?

: I need someone to talk to. Someone objective, who doesn’t know me, and can help me work through the things I haven’t gotten through yet. I never had the option until now; but yes, I want to go. Come with me. :

Seven couldn’t help but smile. She knew Revi was being absolutely truthful—and that she was using that truth in a very deliberate manner. : Lynne would say “that was about as subtle as a shuttle crash.” :

: Lynne would say “go with her.” :

And that was true as well.

Seven looked into Kathryn’s eyes and spoke to her and Revi at the same time.

“Very well. I’ll go.”

She felt Revi’s pleasure and saw Kathryn’s total confusion at the same time, and the combination made her laugh.

“Did I just miss something?” asked Kathryn.

“Yes,” answered Seven truthfully. “Revi and I will be attending counseling together.”

“Oh.” Kathryn’s expression quickly changed to one of comprehension. She lowered her head for a moment, and when she raised it again there was a devilish grin on her face. “Do I ever pity the counselor who finds the two of you in her office! What a combination you’re going to be.” She began to laugh. “I had someone in mind for this, but now I’m thinking she might hunt me down in revenge.”

Seven couldn’t help but laugh with her; she loved it when Kathryn let go this way. “Who did you have in mind?” she asked.

“Counselor Deanna Troi, from the Enterprise. She’s the best, and a lovely person on top of it. I was telling her about our lack of counseling services on Voyager, and she said that she had already spoken with Starfleet Medical about an exchange program. It seems she’s going to be available on Earth for a few months, specifically to assist us. She thought it would be interesting work.” Kathryn laughed again. “I told her she had no idea how interesting it would be.”

“I met her at the party as well. She seemed very…kind,” said Seven.

“She is. She’s also empathic and frighteningly intelligent and can see right through any tricks a patient might try. Hmm.” Kathryn got a calculating look on her face. “Come to think of it, she might be the only counselor in Starfleet who could handle the two of you.” Then her expression brightened. “Well, I’ll just make the recommendation and then go hide in Indiana. I don’t think she’ll come after me there.”

Seven couldn’t imagine Kathryn hiding anywhere, from anyone. Then she realized that it was a joke, and gave her friend a wide-eyed stare. “But you’ve just told me your hiding place, which I will almost certainly reveal to Counselor Troi under the duress of her questioning. You have sabotaged your retreat.”

“I guess I have at that,” said Kathryn cheerfully. “Maybe that’s because what I really want is for you and Revi to stay with Lynne and me in Indiana. As soon as we get back, and for as long as you want to. I spoke with my mom and Lynne about it at the party. This isn’t an invitation for a visit, Seven. I’d like you to come live with us. My mother has a guest house that would be perfect for you, and she’s thrilled with the idea. The nearest transporter station is only a short personal transport ride away. Please say yes.”

: YES! Tell her yes! :

Seven actually closed her eyes at the power in Revi’s thought.

: Sorry, Seven. But…I think that’s exactly what we need. Neither of us has any place to go, and I’d rather be with family. Wouldn’t you? :

: You don’t need to convince me, Revi. :  Seven smiled, though Revi couldn’t see it. : However, you do need to reduce your intensity by several degrees. :

: I know. Sorry again. :

: Don’t be. I love to feel your enthusiasm. :

When she opened her eyes, Kathryn was looking at her knowingly. “I’m guessing a conference just took place.”

“Yes. And the answer from both of us is yes. We would be delighted, and we thank you for your offer.”

The look on Kathryn’s face was priceless, and Seven knew she would never forget it—even though she only saw it for one point eight seconds before she found herself enveloped in an enthusiastic hug.

“I’m so glad you’re coming!” Kathryn squeezed her again and then let go, her face alight with obvious pleasure. “God, this is wonderful. I was just thinking this morning about how different it will be when we get back, and how much I’d miss the two of you if we didn’t stay close. Now I don’t have to worry about it, at least for awhile.”

Once again Seven was startled. It was unlike Kathryn to reveal such a personal vulnerability, and she felt a surge of protective emotion for the smaller woman in her arms.

“Kathryn, I have already said we will not lose our connection. Did you doubt me?”

“No, of course not. But a connection could mean we talk once a month, or it could mean that we see each other every day as we have been. And to be honest, the once a month option sounds very unappealing right now. I would much prefer to have you close. And I know Lynne would, too.” Suddenly her expression clouded. “We talked about it before, when we were at Terellia. She said then that she dreaded the thought of being separated from you. And now…I think it’s different. She needs you, Seven. You and Revi both. She would have had a hell of an adjustment period anyway, but now it’s so much worse.”

“Because of her death.” Seven saw Kathryn wince, and regretted her blunt words. “I’m sorry, Kathryn. I didn’t mean to cause you pain.”

“No…” Kathryn took a deep breath. “Don’t apologize for stating a truth. Yes, because of her death.”

Seven watched her friend, and suddenly saw the evidence of what Revi had already told her to expect. “We have to watch out for her,” Revi had said. “She’s going to focus on Lynne and the crew and her duties and forget about herself. We have to make sure she gets the help she needs as well. But we’ll have to be quiet about it, because she won’t see her own need and she won’t want anyone to point it out to her.”

The idea of being able to help Kathryn, of paying back in some small way the enormous debt she owed, made Seven feel proud and happy. She smiled at her friend.

“It would be our pleasure and our privilege to be of assistance,” she said. “We’ll be there.” For both of you.

 

 

 

 

---

chapter 35

 

 

Janeway paced the living room, anxiously awaiting Lynne’s arrival. After she and Seven had talked, she’d decided not to return to the party, instead sending Seven with a message. The party had gone far better than she’d hoped—well, in terms of her and Lynne, anyway—but she’d had all she could take. She knew Lynne would beam back as soon as she could, and then they’d finally have their conversation. The one they’d been putting off from the moment Lynne had woken up in sickbay.

The anticipation was killing her. She actually felt a little sick to her stomach.

“God, Lynne, hurry up,” she muttered.

She paced for another five minutes before the hum of a transporter beam stopped her in her tracks. In moments the blue beam resolved itself into Lynne, facing away from her.

Suddenly Janeway’s sense of urgency changed to a total paralysis. She could only watch as Lynne slowly turned in place, their eyes meeting with an electric shock.

For long moments they looked at each other in silence. Finally Lynne said, “I’ve been waiting for this, and now I don’t know what to say.”

“Me either,” said Janeway hoarsely. She cleared her throat. “Well, I do know what to say. I just don’t know where to start.”

Lynne nodded slowly. “Maybe…” She paused. “Maybe we could start with that cup of coffee I owe you.”

Janeway nodded. “That would be great.”

Neither of them moved.

Shaking her head, Lynne whispered, “I don’t want to make you a cup of coffee. Not right now.” With a hesitant motion she took a step forward, never breaking their gaze.

The movement seemed to unlock Janeway’s own paralysis, and she closed the space between them. Throwing herself into Lynne’s arms and feeling them wrap around her, she snuggled in as closely as she could, her own arms tightening as she finally held the most precious, breathing body in the universe. The tears she’d been fighting for two days rose up and overpowered her in an instant, and she found herself sobbing as if she’d lost Lynne all over again.

Vaguely she heard Lynne’s soothing voice, but nothing could penetrate right now. There was no thought, no control—there was simply emotion, overwhelming and completely unstoppable. All she could do was let it out and try to survive it.

Then she felt Lynne shift, and she was picked up and gently cradled. She was aware of movement, then a bit of jostling, and finally a change in angles as Lynne settled them on the couch. She buried her head on Lynne’s shoulder and tried to get as physically close as she could, losing herself in the comfort she’d needed so desperately.

After what felt like a very, very long time, she finally became aware of what Lynne was saying.

“Shhh, my love, my darling Kathryn. It’s all right, it’s over, I’m okay. God, Kathryn, please…we’re all right. Kathryn…”

She heard the tears in Lynne’s voice, and the realization cut through her own grief and fear. Raising her head, she saw the wet tracks down Lynne’s cheeks and felt an instant need to comfort her. “Don’t cry,” she whispered, barely able to suppress her own sobs.

“I can’t help it.” Lynne eyes shone with her emotion. “It was the worst thing about dying. Looking into your eyes and seeing how absolutely devastated you were…and there wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it. I heard you say you didn’t know how to live without me…and it broke my heart.” A sob broke through, and fresh tears washed down her face. “I couldn’t do anything. I was trapped inside this body that was dying, but I could still think and feel, and it was the worst kind of death imaginable. I just wanted to reach out and touch your face, make you stop crying, and I couldn’t move! It was hell, Kathryn. It was hell.” She took in a shuddering breath, wiping her face to no avail. “I didn’t want to leave you.”

“I didn’t want you to leave me.” Janeway’s breathing was ragged as well. “But I saw you go. And I didn’t think I’d ever really live again.”

They stared into each other’s eyes for several seconds, until Lynne let out a soft groan and folded Janeway to her chest again, cradling her and rocking her in place. “Oh, god, Kathryn…I don’t know if I can ever get your face out of my mind. I’ve been seeing it almost every waking moment…that look on your face when you were trying so hard not to cry, and then when you couldn’t hold it back any longer...I’ve never felt so needed and so loved, and I’ve never loved you so goddamned much. But it was too late, and so unfair to both of us.”

“But we got a second chance.” Janeway snuggled in, her tears slowing at last as the warmth and comfort of Lynne’s body began to soothe her.

“Second, hell—I think that was our fourth or fifth chance by now.”

Janeway let out an inelegant snort. “True. Thank god we’re back in the Alpha Quadrant; I’m not sure how many more lives we had left to run through.”

Lynne made no answer save to squeeze her again, and they fell silent, content simply to be together. And after long minutes of quiet comfort, when their tears had dried, Lynne began speaking softly.

“If thou must love me, let it be for nought except for love’s sake only.”

Janeway recognized the opening line instantly, and the tears sprang back to her eyes as she listened to one of her favorite poems.

“Do not say, ‘I love her for her smile, her look, her way of speaking gently—for a trick of thought that falls in well with mine, and certes brought a sense of pleasant ease on such a day.’ For these things in themselves, my love, may be changed, or change for thee…and love, so wrought, may be unwrought so. Neither love me for thine own dear pity’s wiping my cheeks dry—a creature might forget to weep, who bore thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby! But love me for love’s sake, that evermore thou mayst love on, through love’s eternity.”

Janeway raised her head, the tears tracking down her face. “You changed a word.”

“Trust you to notice,” said Lynne with a tremulous smile. “It’s about you, so it had to be ‘my love.’”

“I do love you for love’s sake, you know.”

Reaching out to brush the moisture from her cheeks, Lynne said, “I know. And I can tell you from personal experience that I will love you through love’s eternity.”

Janeway’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at Lynne, understanding the enormity of her meaning.

“Can you…” She paused, then looked down, shaking her head.

“What?” asked Lynne gently.

Slowly Janeway brought her eyes back up. “Can you tell me about it?”

Lynne nodded. “I want to. It wasn’t what I expected, Kathryn.”

“What did you expect?” Janeway’s sense of curiosity was beginning to overwhelm her other emotions.

“Well…frankly, nothing. I’ve never believed in an afterlife.” Lynne caressed Janeway’s hair as her gaze became slightly unfocused. “But something happened. I went somewhere. Somewhere very different.”

When no more details were forthcoming, Janeway prompted her. “Different in what way?”

Lynne’s eyes came back to her. “It’s kind of hard to describe.” She thought for a moment, then said, “You know how, in dreams, you can be in one place one second and then somewhere else the next second, and it all seems normal?”

Janeway nodded.

“It was like that. I was bouncing around different places and even different times, and I didn’t give any thought to the fact that it should have been impossible. It just was. One minute I was on Earth, at one of my favorite big walls in Chile, just watching the clouds move across the bluest sky I’d ever seen. The next I was with you, the night of the Tsian banquet, and you were standing in my doorway, looking at me with an expression I’d never seen before.”

“I remember that night,” said Janeway. “The reason you’d never seen that expression was because I’d never seen you in a dress like that before. You opened your door and half my brain promptly disengaged.”

Lynne laughed. “Well, it was mutual.” She tucked a lock of hair behind Janeway’s ear and rested her arm. “I just kept bouncing around, and it wasn’t like I was watching these scenes. I was living them. It was me. But it wasn’t just scenes from my life—I also went to places I’ve never been to. I saw things so beautiful they took my breath away.” She raised an eyebrow. “Well, they would have if I’d been breathing.”

Janeway winced. “Please don’t do that anymore.”

“Do what?”

“Make jokes about it. Every time you do, my heart stops.”

With a tiny shake of her head, Lynne said, “I’m sorry. It’s just…automatic, I guess. I’m having a hard time dealing with this, Kathryn. I don’t have any frame of reference for it. I can’t get over the fact that I died. And now I’m here again, holding you, and it’s like it never happened.”

“Oh, it happened.” Janeway knew she would never, ever get to a point where she could feel like it had never happened.

Lynne gazed at her sympathetically. “You know what I mean. We went through all that and yet here we are again. How is it possible? I died. I went on an afterlife tour of the universe. It was fucking amazing. I saw you, and I saw my parents. I even saw Casey. And then I flew out of everything I’ve ever known. I saw a planet get hit by an asteroid, and watched the crust turn molten. I saw a giant collection of stars hit critical mass and begin to rotate as a galaxy was born. I saw things I can’t even begin to explain, but it all made sense then. Everything made sense. And through it all, I still loved you. You were still there somehow; I never lost sight of what you’d been to me and what we had. So I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I honest to god will love you through eternity.” She shook her head. “It sounds corny as hell, but I experienced it, Kathryn. I was there.”

Janeway pulled herself upward to get within range of Lynne’s lips, where she dropped a very gentle kiss. “I believe you,” she whispered.

“Do you?” Lynne looked doubtful. “You’re such a scientist. I thought you’d try to tell me all the logical explanations for what I saw.”

Janeway smiled. “Well, I can think of at least one right off the bat, but Lynne, I wasn’t there. I have no idea what you saw, so I’m not going to try to deconstruct it. You can do that if you want to, but I’m not going to be that presumptuous.”

“Well, there’s a first.”

At first Janeway was startled, but then saw the smirk on Lynne’s face. She raised her eyebrows. “You think I’m presumptuous, but you’ll still love me through eternity?”

“Yep.” The smirk faded, and Lynne tugged her back down for a kiss. “That’s a promise,” she whispered, just before their lips met.

The kiss started out as softly as the last one had been, but their emotions were still too high, and soon they were crushing each other’s mouths, their hands reaching and rubbing and grasping, pulling their bodies together and seeking comfort. Janeway was the first to break it off, taking advantage of her position to nudge Lynne’s head back and begin working on her throat with a demanding touch. She needed skin between her teeth and a pulse beneath her lips; she needed the physical affirmation that Lynne was alive and responding to her caresses. Despite her efforts to prevent it, the memory of Lynne’s unmoving lips under her final kiss overwhelmed her, and she surged back up again, taking those same lips in a ferocious kiss designed to wipe away the memory. Lynne’s mouth was moving this time, as was the rest of her body. Janeway felt hands tugging at her jacket, and she stopped long enough to straighten up and tear it off. Her shirt, undershirt and bra followed seconds later, and then she was pulling at Lynne, trying to get her up as well. Lynne sat upright and, with two sets of hands working at the task, was naked to the waist in even less time. They came together again, groaning at the sensation of skin on skin, and Janeway began blazing a path from Lynne’s throat to her chest. She was well on her way to losing herself completely when her lips came upon something different. When she raised her head for a better look, all arousal instantly fled her body.

“What is it?” whispered Lynne. “What’s wrong?”

Janeway couldn’t speak. With a shaking hand, she traced the scars on Lynne’s chest. “I remember,” she whispered. “I can’t not remember. I can’t stop seeing you on that street.” Her eyes were riveted to the white stripes across the light skin. The scars were still too new to have blended, as they would in a few days.

Lynne put her hands on either side of Janeway’s head. “Kathryn, look at me.”

It took an extraordinary act of will for Janeway to drag her gaze upward. Lynne was watching her intently.

“I’m not there,” she said. “I’m okay, and I’m here with you. And I need you, Kathryn.”

Janeway looked into Lynne’s dark green eyes for long moments, just letting herself sink in. There was life in those eyes; life and intelligence and grief and yes, need. She reached out to caress Lynne’s jawline and watched as her eyes closed. Then she drew her hand away and waited; a moment later Lynne’s eyes opened again and Janeway felt a chill run down her spine. They stared at each other in silence until Lynne finally asked, “What are you thinking?”

Janeway smiled. “I’m thinking about how wonderful it is that you’re looking at me.”

Lynne cocked her head to one side. “Well, of course I am.”

“You didn’t always.”

She saw comprehension dawn. “But I did for as long as I could.”

“I know.” Janeway’s voice was barely audible as she began caressing Lynne’s face again. Almost instantly Lynne’s eyes drifted shut, but Janeway couldn’t bear not having that connection. “Open your eyes,” she whispered, and shivered with another chill as Lynne complied. She shook her head. “Don’t close them again. No matter what I do, don’t close them. Please.”

“I won’t.” The response was soft and full of understanding.

Janeway nodded and resumed her caresses, smiling when this time their gazes remained locked. She worked by feel, taking comfort from the warm skin and the familiar curves. Her hands gently mapped Lynne’s torso, up and down and back again. Finally she broke their gaze long enough to admire the soft breasts beneath her palms, cupping them tenderly and lowering her mouth.

“Oh, god, that feels good,” Lynne whispered.

Janeway looked up, finding green eyes still fastened on her, and she smiled without pausing in her motions. Yes, it does, she thought, but was unwilling to pull away long enough to say it out loud.

She lost track of time after that. Her entire universe narrowed down to one thing, and one thing only: satiating her need to confirm Lynne’s living status. It wasn’t sexual; the arousal she’d felt earlier was long gone. This was purely emotional. She touched and kissed and licked and suckled, reveling in the constant rise and fall of Lynne’s ribs, the occasional gasps, and best of all, the groans of pleasure and whispered encouragements. And every time she glanced up, Lynne was looking right at her, those green eyes half-closed now with sensual enjoyment—but so full of life.

Eventually she slowed her caresses, bestowing a final soft kiss to each nipple before settling down and resting her head on Lynne’s chest with a sigh. She felt arms come around her, holding her close, and concluded that nothing short of an attack on the Federation was going to move her from this spot.

“That was so lovely,” whispered Lynne. “Thank you.”

“Oh, don’t thank me.” Janeway squeezed the warm torso beneath her. “It was totally selfish on my part.”

“Well, anytime you feel selfish like that, just let me know.”

Janeway smiled, squeezed Lynne again, and simply rested. She felt so peaceful…god, if only she could feel this way all the time.

They held each other, saying nothing at all, for what seemed like hours. Finally Lynne’s ribs rose and fell in a deep breath, and Janeway waited.

“Kathryn.”

“Hmm?”

“You know we have more to talk about.”

“I know. I’m just…enjoying this.”

“Me too.” Lynne’s arms tightened around her. “So if you don’t mind putting off the rest of this until later, I don’t either. Because I’m in heaven now, just holding you like this.”

“Oh, so that’s what heaven is? You didn’t mention that when you talked about your tour of the universe.”

She felt Lynne’s torso shake with her chuckle. “Yes, smartass, that’s what heaven is. And I have the beliefs of thousands of species and hundreds of thousands of cultures in my head, so that makes me an authority.”

“I would never question you.”

“Yes, you would.”

Janeway smiled, raising her head to meet Lynne’s eyes. “You know, this is one of the things I would have missed the most.”

“What’s that? Me calling you a smartass? I’m sure you could have found someone else to take over that.”

Janeway dropped a light kiss on Lynne’s curved lips. “Sorry, sweetheart, that’s a one-person job. There’s nobody else on this ship capable of taking it over. No, I was talking about the fact that I can be Kathryn with you. I can’t do that with anyone else.”

Lynne cocked her head. “Well, who are you with Revi and Seven?”

“Kathryn,” said Janeway. “But not consistently. I’m still their captain, so I can’t always be myself. It’s different.”

“But that may change tomorrow. You’re going to find a lot more people you can be Kathryn with, aren’t you?”

Janeway considered that. “Yes, to a degree. Certainly Mom and Phoebe won’t ever see me as anything else. As for my friends…I mentioned that to Seven just this evening. My relationships are definitely going to change—but then, if Starfleet gives me another ship, and Seven and Revi want to come back on my crew, I’d have to shift the relationship again. So I don’t think I can be fully Kathryn with them.”

“Bullshit.”

Janeway raised her eyebrows. “Care to elaborate?”

“Try and stop me.” Lynne lifted her own brow, and Janeway laughed.

“God, I love you,” she said.

Lynne grinned. “You know I love you, too. And as far as elaboration…you are a living, breathing, passionate woman with a real woman’s needs. And some of those needs involve friendship and the freedom to be yourself. I don’t think you’re giving Seven and Revi enough credit. I think you can be totally yourself with them, for as long as you’re relating to them as Kathryn, and then when you had to switch back to captain, they’d switch right along with you. And the reason I know that is because I’ve already seen them do it. You just didn’t notice.”

“What?” Janeway frowned. “When?”

“All the time, Kathryn. I don’t think you have any idea of how much you’ve changed since I’ve known you. When I first met you, you were all captain. My god, you wouldn’t even let me call you by your given name until the night we first made love!”

“Hey,” Janeway interrupted, “I told you to call me Kathryn several hours before we made love.”

Lynne grinned at her. “I remember. But my point stands. You’ve made so many changes since then, and I think a lot of it has been subconscious. You’re always so worried about being both a good captain and a good wife and person, but I’ve seen those different parts of you blending more and more. Obviously there will always have to be some separation, but I think you’ve found a much better balance. And everyone around you has adjusted to that. So you’ve already been Kathryn to Seven and Revi, quite often actually, and they’ve switched without batting an eye when you had to become the captain again.”

“Seven did that tonight,” said Janeway, who had suddenly remembered Seven’s words in the corridor of the Enterprise. “She called me Captain, and when I told her to call me Kathryn, she said I wasn’t. God, I felt so bad about that. She looked devastated.”

Lynne nodded. “That was really hard for her. You were definitely the captain when you told her to stand down.”

“Do you think I shouldn’t have?” asked Janeway in surprise. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that she’d done the right thing.

“No, I’m not going to say that. Actually, I’m not certain how much longer I could have held her—I’m not up to full strength yet. I’m just pointing out that she was right, you were the captain. And, judging by how she looked when she came back to the party, somewhere in between you turned into Kathryn again.”

“Hm.” Janeway gave that considerable thought, then looked up and grinned. “You do realize that we’re both talking about me in the third person.”

“That’s a sign of schizophrenia, isn’t it?” Lynne put on an expression of alarm. “Should I be worried?”

Suddenly Janeway was overcome by a rush of tenderness for the woman beneath her. She laid her head back down on Lynne’s chest and squeezed hard. “This is what I would have missed. Maybe I can be Kathryn with others, but I can’t be who I am right now. You see a side of me that no one else does, and I feel so comfortable with that. I just can’t imagine being this way with anyone else.”

Lynne held her closely. “I understand,” she said. “You see a side of me that no one else does, either. You have from the very first day.”

Her words brought up an instant memory that Janeway would rather not have revisited, but now that it was in her head she knew she had to tell Lynne about it.

“I think I see a side of you that you don’t see, as well,” she said. “I see a warrior.”

“Oh, Kathryn—”

“No.” Janeway raised her head and looked Lynne in the eyes. “Don’t put me off. You need to know this. When you…” She paused, took a breath, and finished the sentence. “When you died, I spent a long time talking to you. I wanted—no, I needed to tell you the things I hadn’t said while you were alive. And one of the things I never said was that you were a warrior. But I should have. Yes, you are,” she said in response to Lynne’s slight head shake. “You always have been. On Earth you fought mountains and the elements and your own body. Now you’re fighting different things, but that fighting spirit is the same, Lynne. You’re very, very good at it. You are the best. I’ve never seen anything like what you did on Terellia, and it broke my heart that it took something like that for you to believe that you’re good enough.”

Lynne sighed. “Thank you, love. I believe it now. About being good enough for the job, I mean. But as far as being a warrior—that wasn’t really me down there. It was my implants.”

“What do you mean?” Janeway didn’t get that at all.

“I mean, you and everyone else seem to be so impressed with what I did, but the fact is, I couldn’t have done it without my implants and this arm.” She raised her right arm for emphasis. “It wasn’t me. It was the fact that I’m part machine. So I have a hard time thinking of myself as a warrior when I’m really just a person with some powerful cybernetic parts.”

Janeway couldn’t believe her ears. “How can you think that? Do you honestly believe that I’ve only thought of you as a warrior since your assimilation? Do you think B’Elanna and Tom only want you as a godmother because you have Borg implants and a prosthetic arm?” Lynne dropped her eyes, and Janeway cupped her jaw, urging her to look up again.

“Sweetheart,” she said softly, “I’m truly sorry that I haven’t said this to you earlier. I should have. I know how important it is for you to be the best you can be, and I’ve watched you work so hard to improve yourself, to learn new skills, to make yourself useful. And I have been so very, very proud of you.”

She saw tears spring to Lynne’s eyes and smiled. “Yes, I am. And that didn’t suddenly start seven months ago. It started when you came to me in my ready room and asked for a job, just days after learning you’d been ripped away from everything you knew. You were out of place and out of time, but you were damned if you’d be useless. I looked at you then and thought that you were going to be one hell of a challenge for me.”

One side of Lynne’s mouth quirked up. “Guess I proved you right.”

Janeway nodded. “You certainly did. And that initial pride, that admiration I felt for you—it just grew from there. I watched you working and changing and refusing to let your circumstances push you down…and then I watched your shin na’shon match. And I knew that you’d become even more than I’d thought; that somehow you’d grown beyond my understanding. So I took you back to my quarters and spent two hours researching what you’d become—and that was the night I realized that I was in love with a warrior.”

As she spoke, a tear spilled over and slipped down Lynne’s cheek. Janeway caught it with a thumb as she said, “You are not just a woman with some cybernetic parts. You’re a woman who works hard to make the most of what she has; who trains relentlessly to be the best she can be. You did that before your assimilation, and you didn’t change anything afterwards except to promptly learn how to use the new tools you had. You’re the woman I chose to protect me, before you were assimilated. I chose you because I agreed with Tuvok that you were the best person for the job. I put my life in your hands, in total trust that it’s safe there. And it is, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” whispered Lynne, lifting her hand to wipe away another tear. “You know I’ll protect you with everything I have.”

“I know that. And everything you have is a hell of a lot. I’ve got a warrior at my back who combines the skill of a Vulcan ta’nek with the strength of a Borg. Your implants aren’t the only thing that enabled you to save me. You needed every bit of your training, too. All of those days and weeks and months of training, Lynne.” Their gazes were locked and Janeway saw an intensity in Lynne’s that she recognized. Instinctively, she understood that what she said now was critical. She’d stumbled on something that went right to Lynne’s core.

“It wasn’t a partly cybernetic woman who saved my life,” she said. “It was a woman who has worked relentlessly to teach herself new skills so she could be the best. The best. Do you think I haven’t seen that? I know I should have said it earlier, Lynne, but I have seen it.”

“I…” Lynne’s gaze shifted. “I have worked hard, Kathryn. But I feel like…” Her voice trailed off, and Janeway waited.

Eventually Lynne met her eyes again. “I feel like I cheated,” she said quietly. “I have a strength I didn’t earn. This arm isn’t mine. The heart implant, the strength in my legs—none of that is mine. I didn’t ask for it. And everyone thinks I’m a hero, but I’m not. I didn’t earn this.”

Janeway bit down on her instant heated response and took a moment to consider her words more carefully.

“No,” she agreed, “you didn’t ask for it. It was forced on you. But you did earn it, Lynne. You earned it by clawing your way back to life when a person with a little less strength would have died from the nanoscrubbers. Revi said it was only your incredible physical condition that pulled you through. And you earned it when you spent all that time learning to live with your implants and adapting to them. Nobody who knows you would ever accuse you of not earning what you have now, sweetheart. We’ve all watched you fight for it.” She took a deep breath, pushing an old anger back down. She couldn’t afford to be angry; she needed to be fully focused on Lynne. And it was time to play hardball.

“Tell me something. If you could have your old body back right now, would you take it?”

Lynne opened her mouth, paused, and closed it again. She stared at Janeway in silence, but the captain could see her mind whirring behind those green eyes. Finally Lynne shook her head.

“It’s not that easy, is it? If I had my old body back right now, I’d be dead.”

“And so would I,” said Janeway, driving the point home.

Lynne nodded. “And so would you,” she repeated in a whisper.

Janeway gently touched her face, and watched as Lynne closed her eyes and turned her head into the caress.

“Lynne,” she said, “you are a warrior. Not because of your implants. Because of what you do with them.”

She saw a flash of pain go across Lynne’s face, but had no time to question it before Lynne pulled her down and crushed her in a tight embrace.

“I love you.” Lynne’s voice was on the edge of breaking. “And I can’t seem to say it enough.”

Janeway understood that feeling. “I can’t either. So I guess we’ll just have to keep telling each other until we’ve had our fill.”

“I’ll never have my fill.”

Snuggling in, Janeway said, “I know what you mean. I don’t think I’ll ever have my fill of touching you, either. I love feeling you.” Warm, and breathing, and alive.

“And I love holding you. I can’t forget how awful that was, wanting to hold you and not being able to. I hope you can run the ship from here, because I don’t think I can let you go for a week at least.”

Janeway chuckled. “Necheyev would have something to say about that.”

They passed a few minutes in quiet comfort, but Janeway knew Lynne was hiding something. Eventually she squeezed the body beneath her and said, “What’s wrong, sweetheart? I mean, other than the obvious?”

She felt Lynne’s chest move in a sigh, and wrapped her arms more securely around her torso. “Talk to me,” she whispered. “I know something else is wrong.”

Several seconds ticked by in utter silence before Lynne finally said, “I think you need to send me to the same counselor Seven and Revi are going to.”

Janeway didn’t have to ask how Lynne had known about that; after all, she’d left Lynne and Revi standing side by side at the party.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because…” Another sigh. “Because I don’t think I did the right thing, Kathryn. I didn’t have to kill all those men. I could have disabled them, but I was so afraid for you, and so angry that they were threatening you—and I lost it. And now I have these memories. I’ll never be able to forget seeing that man’s skull just…break apart, when I punched him. That guy I kicked? I saw the toe of my boot go inside his head. And when I knifed that guy in the heart, I just…I did mean to kill him; I mean, by that time it was pretty obvious that I had to. But I never intended to punch my hand all the way through him. God, that was horrible. I felt my hand go through; I felt the ribs give way and then the soft, squishy—” She stopped, then finished quietly, “I wasn’t in control, Kathryn. A warrior is always in control.”

Janeway tried to rise up, to see into her wife’s eyes, but Lynne tightened her arms and held her against her chest. Janeway relaxed, understanding. Lynne felt too vulnerable right now.

“You’re not a Vulcan,” she said.

“I know. But you’re right about how hard I’ve worked. I’ve been training so hard, Kathryn, and so much of it has been about making the right decisions and separating my emotions from my logic. And when it came right down to it, I couldn’t pull it off.”

“Lynne!” Janeway didn’t try to hide her disbelief. “You saved my life! Against impossible odds! How the hell could that not be pulling it off?”

“I know, but…I didn’t do it the right way. And ever since I woke up, it’s been haunting me.”

Once again Janeway forced herself to wait; to let the first hot response go and really think about what Lynne was saying. This wasn’t about being good enough for the job. This was about self expectations.

She squeezed Lynne again and said, “Do you remember what you told me the night you decided to reactivate your transceiver? About why you liked your life as a climber?”

After a pause, Lynne said, “Yeah. I told you I liked it because right and wrong were so clearly defined, and there was never the moral gray area that you deal with so often.”

“And I said that we have those moments, too.” Janeway gently pushed against the restraining arms until Lynne let her go. Sitting up, she met Lynne’s eyes and said, “This was one of those times, Lynne. Right and wrong were pretty clearly defined. Right meant live, wrong meant die. I lived, because you killed nine men. And let’s not forget that I killed two more. Sure, I could have just disabled them instead, but you know what?”

Lynne shook her head.

“It never occurred to me,” said Janeway. “First of all, because I had no time and it wouldn’t have been a smart idea anyway, not in that situation. And second, because by then I wasn’t in control. All I could think about was inflicting as much damage as I could. You were already past hope, and I never thought I’d get out alive myself. I just wanted to go down fighting and take as many of them with me as I could. Do you blame me for that?”

“No, of course not!”

“Then why are you blaming yourself?”

Lynne closed her eyes and said nothing.

“Do you expect less of me than you do of yourself?”

That got Lynne’s attention. “Kathryn…no. It’s just—” She stopped, took a deep breath, and tried again. “I’m having a hard time accepting the fact that I’m a killer.”

“Lynne—” Janeway stopped when Lynne held up a hand.

“Don’t tell me I’m not. I know that I’ve trained for this, that it was my job, that I did everything I had to. I know you wouldn’t have survived if I hadn’t done what I did. But the fact is, I killed nine men. I am a killer. That’s why your life is safe in my hands. And I accepted that concept a long time ago, but it’s different now.” She held up her right hand and looked at it. “This isn’t mine. My hand could never have broken a man’s skull or punched clear through his body. When I originally started my training, I didn’t have the capacity to kill that I do now. And Tuvok and I adjusted for that; I learned to pull my punches and worked on controlling my implants. And then I promptly forgot all of that on Terellia.” Her voice became bitter. “I forgot my training, Kathryn. You said I’m a warrior not because of my implants, but because of what I do with them. And what did I do? I lost control and turned into a killing machine. And that I can’t forget.”

Janeway reached out for Lynne’s hand, drew it to her mouth, and gently kissed it. Lynne watched with tears in her eyes, which soon overflowed as Janeway opened the hand and deliberately drew each finger into her mouth, one by one, never breaking their gaze. Then she held the palm against her cheek and smiled, and Lynne began to cry in earnest.

“Kathryn…”

“You’re not a killing machine,” said Janeway quietly, lowering their hands and clasping them together. “You’re a trained expert in personal protection, and that includes knowing how to kill, and being willing to do it. And I never, ever wanted to see you in this position, but I know how you feel, Lynne. I went through this after my first major battle.”

Lynne took in a shuddering breath. “On the Al-Batani?”

“No; I wasn’t in command then. It was on the Billings. We were never supposed to end up in combat, but we were doing surveys in some pretty remote sectors, and not everyone out there are law abiding citizens of the Federation. We were attacked by pirates. They outgunned us, and I really thought I’d have to surrender. But Tuvok was with me on that mission, and he found a weakness in the design of the pirate ship. If we could punch a hole into their shields, a perfectly-placed phaser shot could send a power surge down their propulsion system and right into their warp containment chamber. I told him to focus his efforts on their forward shields so that they’d route power there, then do a fast barrage on the aft shields in the hopes of punching through. And to take the kill shot as soon as it was possible. He did, and it worked perfectly.” She paused, remembering that moment. “We watched that ship blow itself into a million pieces, and I felt sick. My bridge crew was cheering me, and I ended up getting a medal for it, but I felt sick. Because I’d just killed fifty-two people, simply by giving an order.”

Lynne’s tears had stopped, and she was watching Janeway intently. “How do you feel about it now?” she asked.

“Now I just add those numbers to the total. Do you know how many ships we’ve destroyed on our way across the Delta Quadrant? I always left it for a last resort, but I’m not about to let my crew be hurt or killed if I can prevent it.” She squeezed Lynne’s hand. “My job involves killing if necessary. And I have. It doesn’t mean I can do it without feeling the pain of taking other lives. Sometimes it keeps me awake at night, and you’ve seen that. But I’ve learned that it’s part of the responsibility that comes with command, and it’s just something I have to accept. It’s something you have to accept, too, because you’ve also chosen a job that also involves killing if necessary. And it became necessary on Terellia. We’re both alive, not because you’re a killing machine, but because you did your job. You did a job no one else could have done.”

“But I didn’t have to do it that way,” whispered Lynne. “I could have knocked them out, or broken their arms, or disabled them any number of ways—I didn’t have to kill them. Not until I had no other choice. Not until…” She paused, and Janeway finished her sentence for her, though probably not in the way she’d intended.

“Not until they killed you?”

Lynne looked at her with a haunted expression, and Janeway reached out to cup her cheek.

“Listen to me,” she said. “You told me that as a climber, if you did things right you lived, and if you did them wrong you died. You died on Terellia, Lynne. You gave your life for me. You did everything right and you still died. Because there were too many of them, and they had energy weapons, and all we had was you and me and two knives. Disabling them might have worked. But then again, it might have given one of them the opportunity to kill both of us.” She leaned in for a soft kiss, then pulled away just enough to look into Lynne’s eyes. “This isn’t a moral gray area,” she whispered. “Don’t make it harder on yourself than it already is. You responded to a clear and present danger, and you saved me, and you had to kill to do it. And I’m sorry about that, but it’s a responsibility you accepted when you took this job, Lynne. Don’t castigate yourself for fulfilling that responsibility. You did everything right.”

“Did I?” The pain in Lynne’s eyes was plain to see. “Kathryn, I know what you’re trying to say, and I appreciate it. I’m not saying killing them wasn’t the right thing to do—it’s obvious now that it was us or them. That’s not the problem.” She took a deep breath. “The problem is that it was too goddamned easy. I’ve become something I don’t recognize. It’s actually easy for me to kill. I lost control, and five men were dead in seconds. That scares the hell out of me. What happens the next time someone threatens you or someone else I love? Will I be able to stay in control of these implants and my own skills?”

Ah, now Janeway understood.

“I think you’ve already answered that question,” she said.

Lynne’s brows came together. “When?”

“Tonight.”

“No, I didn’t. Are you talking about Maris? That was completely different.”

“How? Didn’t she threaten Revi? Didn’t you see her hit B’Elanna? In a very vulnerable place, too. But not only did you not kill her, or even hurt her—you stopped Seven from doing anything as well.”

“Well, yes, but she wasn’t a threat. Not a mortal one.”

Janeway smiled and simply waited.

Lynne stared at her, obviously not getting it. Then her face cleared. “Oh.” Slowly, a wide grin formed. “Good one, Kathryn. You just got me to say exactly what you wanted me to say.”

“True. But what’s important is that you believe what you just said. You’re in control, Lynne. You saw a threat tonight, dismissed it as non-lethal, and took appropriate action. On Terellia you saw a threat, assessed it as lethal, and took appropriate action. Maybe you felt like you lost control, but the fact is that what you did was not only appropriate, it was necessary, and if you’d stopped to think and analyze and worry about it like you are now, I have no doubt we’d both be dead. Acting on instinct—a carefully trained instinct—is part of being a warrior.”

Lynne nodded, but it was obvious she was still thinking about it. Janeway threw a little more weight into her argument.

“You don’t have to take my word for it. Tuvok dropped by while Revi was working on you. He said, and I quote, ‘Ms. Hamilton performed her duty in an exemplary fashion.’”

A new light dawned in Lynne’s eyes. “He said that?”

“Yes, he did.” Janeway watched in astonishment as much of the tension in Lynne’s face faded.

“Oh, god.” Lynne leaned her head back against the couch arm. “Then I didn’t fail.”

Janeway felt a flash of jealousy. She’d just spent long minutes trying to convince Lynne of that, and all it took was one sentence from Tuvok? With an effort, she fought down her initial reaction, focusing on Lynne and what she needed. “No, you didn’t,” she said, keeping her voice even. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

Lynne raised her head again. “I know. But you love me, and you’re always trying to make me feel better, and I love that about you. But Tuvok never tries to make me feel better. He just slams me with truth and logic, no matter how awful I feel.”

Janeway’s jealousy ebbed away as she understood. “He’s not emotionally invested in you, so if he says you didn’t fail, it means more.”

“Well…it’s not that it means more. It means a lot coming from you, Kathryn. I know you’d never lie to me, not even to make me feel better. It’s just…he’s my savensu. I’ve spent a year and a half earning his respect. And I thought I’d lost it on Terellia. Not that I’d give a shit if losing his respect was the price I had to pay to save you. But it feels a lot better knowing that I haven’t.”

“You would too give a shit,” said Janeway with a smile.

Lynne smiled back. “Busted. Yeah, I would.”

“So, do you believe it?”

“Believe what?”

“That you’re a warrior.”

Lynne shook her head. “Kathryn…”

“I think you should say it. It’ll sound better coming from you.”

“What?” The look on Lynne’s face was almost comical. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Just try it. Say it out loud. ‘I am a warrior.’”

“Oh, for god’s sake—”

“Please?”

“Kathryn!” Lynne was exasperated. “You’re making me feel twelve years old!”

Janeway raised her eyebrows and waited.

Lynne stared at her, then let her breath out in a heavy sigh. “You’re not going to leave me alone on this, are you?”

“No. Come on, just say it. For me?”

“That’s playing dirty.”

Janeway couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

“Fuck!” Lynne rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. ‘I am a warrior.’ Happy now?”

They looked at each other, and suddenly both of them were laughing.

“You’re a damned cute warrior,” said Janeway between chuckles.

“No, no, no! ‘Cute’ and ‘warrior’ do not go in the same sentence.” Lynne’s laughter was bubbling out, and she couldn’t seem to stop. “God!” she managed at last. “Now I know why B’Elanna hates it when I call her that. I’m a little amazed she hasn’t flattened me yet.”

“Because she knows she can’t anymore. You’d wipe the deck plating with her.”

“That’s true. So don’t you think it’s a bit risky calling me a cute warrior?”

“Yes,” said Janeway, “but I love living on the edge.” She pushed herself up and gave Lynne a playful kiss on the nose. “And you are cute.”

“Great,” grumbled Lynne. “You used to call me beautiful. Now I’ve been downgraded.”

“No, you’re beautiful too.”

“Come on, Kathryn. You have to choose one or the other. I can’t be both. And personally, I like the sound of ‘beautiful warrior’ a lot better.”

“I beg to differ. Of course you can be both, and you are. It’s one of your charms.”

Lynne grinned. “Okay. I guess I can buy that, because I’ve always thought you were a pretty cute captain.”

“Hey!”

They laughed again, and then fell into a silence that was far more comfortable this time. Janeway reveled in it. These moments in Lynne’s arms, skin to skin, were soothing her in a way that nothing else could, and she wanted to savor every microsecond. She didn’t know how long Lynne had before she needed to regenerate again, and she wasn’t about to ask for fear that it would break this magical spell.

Eventually she settled onto Lynne’s chest, and then melted completely as Lynne began a gentle caress of her hair. She closed her eyes and let out a hum of pure contentment, wishing this moment would never end. It relaxed her so thoroughly that she could feel herself sinking toward sleep. She came back with an internal start when the soft touch moved from her hair down her face. Had she actually dropped off?

“Your scar is almost gone already,” Lynne whispered. “I don’t think anyone would see it if they weren’t looking for it. I didn’t even know they did that to you—the Doctor told me about it while I was in sickbay.”

Janeway moved her head so that she could see Lynne’s eyes. “Didn’t you see the blood on my face on Terellia?”

“Yeah, I did, but Kathryn, there was blood everywhere. It didn’t really register. Besides,” she gave Janeway a severe look, “you told me you were okay. Don’t tell me you lied; it’ll shatter my belief in you.”

“Physically I was fine,” said Janeway. “I knew none of my injuries were life threatening. But if you were asking about my mental state, my answer would have been different.”

Lynne shook her head. “Don’t say it...”

“I would never have been okay again,” whispered Janeway. “Never. Haven’t you figured out yet that you’re my life? You’ve given me so much, Lynne. You taught me how to be Kathryn again, but I swear to god that I can’t be Kathryn without you. I can’t. I need you.”

She saw the tears spring to Lynne’s eyes, and repeated, “I need you,” as Lynne crushed her in a fervent embrace.

“I need you too,” said Lynne, and Janeway heard the tears in her voice. “That was the only good thing about dying; that I went first. I didn’t have to feel the pain of losing you. I’m so sorry you went through that. Do you know when I first came to in sickbay, I was afraid you might have killed yourself?”

Janeway pulled away. “What?”

Lynne wiped her cheeks. “Well, I knew there wasn’t anyone left in that damned force field to hurt you. So either something else happened, or you decided to join me. Either way it was an awful thought.”

“I don’t think I could do that,” said Janeway thoughtfully. “Not intentionally, anyway. That’s not to say I wouldn’t have taken every risky mission I could get my hands on, because I wouldn’t have cared if I survived or not.”

“Well, I would have,” said Lynne. “You think I did all that on Terellia just so you could throw your life away later?”

“And how would you feel if I’d died on Terellia and you’d lived?”

Lynne frowned. “Let’s not go there.”

Janeway loved her for her transparency. “By the way,” she said, having suddenly remembered something, “why did you think I’d joined you in the afterlife? Didn’t you just say that you’d seen me in your afterlife tour before?”

“Yes, but I only saw you in past events. I was reliving parts of my life. When I saw you in sickbay, in that new uniform, I knew I’d never lived that before. So I could only think you’d joined me.”

“Ah. That makes sense.”

Janeway lowered her head back to Lynne’s shoulder, resting her hand on the newly-healed chest and quietly reveling in the sound of the steady heartbeat beneath her ear.

“You know,” she said, “I really thought you’d be having a hard time with the idea of dying and coming back. It never occurred to me that killing those men would be the thing that would haunt you. I mean, I knew it would be hard for you. But you seem more worried about that than about the rest.”

“No, I’m pretty freaked out about dying and coming back to life. I just haven’t let myself think about it too much. And really, Kathryn, I’m not sure what there is to think about. I mean, I died. I’m not dead now. End of story. What the hell can I do about it? I think I just need to accept it and move on.”

“If you really find it that easy, then you’re even more amazing than I thought. And I think you’re pretty amazing.” Janeway shifted so that she could look into Lynne’s eyes. “Please promise me that if it hits you later, you’ll talk to me about it. Don’t carry this one alone.”

Lynne hesitated.

“Please,” repeated Janeway.

“Okay. I promise I’ll come to you.”

“Thank you.” Janeway reached up to caress her face as they stared at each other.

“Kathryn…” Lynne paused as Janeway’s fingers moved lightly across her lips. “What’s your scientific explanation?”

“For what?”

“For what I saw on my afterlife tour of the universe.”

“Ah, that.” Janeway slipped her hand to the back of Lynne’s head and drew her down for a gentle kiss. When they separated, she said, “I think it’s possible that your cortical implant was responsible.”

“Because it was still functioning?”

Janeway nodded. “It and your nanoprobes were keeping the neural pathways intact in your brain. So there was still activity happening there, though at a very reduced rate. And your implant holds not only your more recent memories, but all those of the Collective as well. That would explain why you witnessed things that you’ve never personally seen, like the asteroid hitting the planet.”

“Hmm.” Lynne’s eyes went unfocused and she tilted her head, concentrating. Nearly a minute passed in total silence as Janeway waited.

“When I access those memories,” said Lynne at last, “they’re different. They’re not like my pre-assimilation memories, but they’re not like the normal Collective memories, either. The Collective’s memories are perfect. They’re ordered and clear and there’s none of that fuzziness that comes with our own human memories, when we can recall some of what happened or some of what we read, but not all of it. The Collective retains it all. But these memories—they’re not all there. They’re fragmented. I don’t know where they came from.”

“So,” said Janeway, “the question is whether those memories always existed in your implant, and you just accessed them while you were at a very low level of operation…”

“…or whether I really did go on an afterlife tour, while my implant was still barely operational, and acquired fuzzy new memories from that. Which would explain why I have these vague memories that don’t match the rest,” Lynne finished. She shook her head. “I don’t think I should spend too much time on that one. It’ll drive me nuts.”

“I know what you mean. There are a few things I don’t dwell on, too.” Janeway ran her fingertips down Lynne’s chest. “Sweetheart, I have something to ask you, but it might sound a little strange.”

“After what we’ve been talking about? What could possibly sound strange?”

Janeway looked up. “Would you mind putting your uniform shirt and jacket back on?”

Twin eyebrows shot toward the ceiling. “Okaaaayyy. Any particular reason why?”

“Because I may never get the chance to see you in it again, and you look incredibly sexy in your dress whites, and…I just want to look at you.” I want to fill my eyes with you until I can forget.

Lynne smiled. “Okay. On one condition—you put yours back on, too. Because you look so hot with all those ribbons and medals. And I do mean hot.” She growled low in her throat, and Janeway couldn’t help but laugh.

“It’s a deal,” she said.

Slowly, and with a good number of kisses and caresses in between, they untangled themselves and got dressed. Lynne vanished into the bedroom and came out with a tiny stasis container. “One last cup of coffee,” she said, heading for the replicator.

“Where the hell were you hiding that?” asked Janeway in surprise.

“Where all good twenty-first century people hid their unmentionables—under the bed.”

“Oh, no you didn’t. I went through all of our drawers last month looking for that Cupertian icon I thought I’d lost. I would have found any coffee, believe me.”

“It wasn’t in a drawer. I stuck it up under the pedestal base. You’d have had to be standing on your head to see it. Computer, hot water.”

Janeway shook her head. She’d been literally sleeping on top of coffee and hadn’t known it?

“What did you do, use a reverse force field?” she asked. They’d had some pretty bumpy rides since Lynne had hidden that container.

“Mm hm.” Lynne was now pouring hot water through the filter, and the scent of fresh Columbian coffee filled the quarters. Janeway sniffed the air appreciatively.

“That’s strange,” she said. “I’m surprised I didn’t hear it.” Reverse force fields always made a characteristic hum. The smaller the field, the quieter the sound—but in a totally silent room, such as theirs was when they were going to sleep, even a small hum was detectable.

“That’s because I reengineered it to be silent,” said Lynne. She put the hot water cup back into the replicator and leaned against the wall, holding the mug as the water finished filtering through the grounds.

“What?” Janeway stared at her wife. “You reengineered a micro force field?”

“Well, yeah.” Lynne looked up. “I do have the memories of the Collective, Kathryn. It wasn’t really that difficult. It’s not like I built a new warp drive or anything. Actually, it was a fun way to spend some time. It took me a few weeks to get it perfect, though. I could only work on it after my shift and when you weren’t around.”

“Let me get this straight. You spent nearly eight weeks obsessing over finding the right molecule to substitute for alcohol or synthehol, and you spent several more weeks reengineering a micro force field to hide my coffee from me. Do you see a pattern here?”

“Nope.” Lynne took the wet filter out of the cone and tossed it into the replicator. “Computer, recycle and give me a hot chocolate.” A moment later she walked toward Janeway with drinks in both hands and a grin on her face. “I try only to use my memories for the greater good.”

“Oh. Well, that’s good to know.” Janeway rolled her eyes.

Lynne leaned in for a kiss and handed over the coffee. “Enjoy, love. That’s the end of it. Until tomorrow.”

Janeway held the mug beneath her nose and filled her lungs with the best aroma in the entire universe. “Oh, god, I’ve missed this blend.” She took a tiny sip, the better to savor it. The flavor exploded across her tongue, and she closed her eyes in pure hedonistic pleasure. “Heaven. This is heaven.”

When she opened her eyes, Lynne was settling into her favorite position, her back resting against the arm of the couch and her legs drawn up. Wasting no time, Janeway took up the matching position at the other end of the couch and smiled happily. “No, on second thought, this is heaven. Being here, with you curled up like that.”

Lynne smiled back. “I think heaven is a lot of things, Kathryn.”

Janeway nodded. “That’s for damn sure.”

Now Lynne laughed out loud. “And you’re never going to get in if you keep swearing like that.”

“Then I’ll be in good company, because you outswear me on a regular basis.”

“I do not. Geez. Have you ever heard yourself?”

“Yes, and I’ve heard you, and I know I’m outclassed.”

“Says the woman who can swear in at least eight different languages.”

“And how many languages can you swear in now?”

Lynne opened her mouth, then shut it again and shook her head. “Well…before my assimilation, three. But that’s not what you’re asking, is it?”

Janeway waited expectantly.

“Fine. Have it your way. Yes, I’m going straight to hell.”

“But I’ll be there with you.”

“Then it will be heaven,” said Lynne instantl