Appreciating Paris
By RalSt

Part 1

The start of a new day and B'Elanna Torres was already less than happy, the chief engineer of the starship Voyager had been woken from the first sound sleep she'd had in days by the whining of her less than thoughtful lover, Tom Paris. The ensign had let himself into her quarters with the specific intention, she saw it, of moaning about the lack of respect he was receiving from everyone aboard Voyager, from the Captain down to little Naomi Wildman, who it seemed did not find it all that amusing when he ruffled her hair and called her princess.

"I mean she just looked at me with this arrogant stare and stated 'I am not a princess' and flounced out of the mess hall. Of course, everyone else just laughed. I'm telling you that kid spends far too much time hanging around with Seven, before you know it she'll start sprouting implants and trying to assimilate us."

B'Elanna made an inarticulate coughing noise at that one, her feeble attempt to mask her amusement proving sufficient as Tom seemed almost totally unaware of her presence. He continued his tirade pacing up and down the length of her living area, only marginally aware that after the first ten minute he was in fact talking to himself as B'Elanna had retreated to the quiet of the sonic shower. Once showered and properly adorned in her starfleet uniform, B'Elanna exited the bathroom, taking a deep breath as if preparing for battle she entered the living area. As she caught sight of Tom, still pacing and moaning, the proud engineer realised that it was not a battle with Tom she was anticipating, even though they happened frequently, but a battle with herself. It seemed that for months now she had been waging an inner war over her temper where the ensign was concerned. Her Klingon half in direct opposition to her human, one side demanding that she silence the annoying little man who treated her without honour, while the other constantly reminded her that she was in a stable and loving relationship and must make exceptions for her loved one.

"I tried to tell Harry that he was making a mistake running after that ensign in security, I could tell just by looking that she wouldn't be interested, but no Harry had to go and make a fool of himself over yet another woman. I tell you the guy has about as much insight into matters of the heart as the Ferengi have into charity."

B'Elanna's human side suddenly gave up the fight and admitted that it was as fed up with the helmsman as the Klingon, and with her warring natures for once in agreement Mr Paris didn't stand a chance..

"Shut up Tom!" This was a bellow that even Kahless himself would have been proud of. Paris stopped dead in his tracks and stared at his girlfriend, she had that look in her eyes that promised trouble if he so much as breathed wrong. Tom Paris, despite evidence to the contrary, was no fool and quickly ceased his monologue and settled his face into the naughty little schoolboy pose that he knew had gotten him out of trouble on many occasions. B'Elanna just stared at him, she had finally had enough and for once she would not hold back on telling him exactly how she felt.

"Do you think that..." B'Elanna began heatedly, her voice taking on a predatory growl.

"Engineering to lieutenant Torres"

B'Elanna hissed in frustration and tried to control the rising temper in her voice before answering.

"Torres here."

"Lieutenant, you wished to be informed when the new relay system would be ready for phase one testing." Came Vorik's calm voice. "Instillation is now complete and awaiting your orders to begin the testing phase."

"I'll be right there, inform the bridge that phase one will commence in ten minutes, Torres out." The helmsman and her growing fury were now forgotten as she picked up an armful of data pads and hurried towards the real object of her affection, the engine room.

"See you tonight." Paris called to her rapidly disappearing form. 'Typical, I'm trying to open up and share with her and she runs off to play with the warp core. What is it with the people on this ship, they never seem to appreciate me, and if I so much as mention it in passing I get yelled at?' He grumbled to himself as he headed towards the nearest turbolift and to the one place where he showed potential, Voyager's helm.

As she walked into main engineering B'Elanna Torres took a quick survey of her own private little domain, the one place on the ship where she had total control. Well technically the captain still retained ultimate control, of this area as well as all the others, but everyone on the ship knew that engineering was hers. Everyone that is except the tall shapely blonde she was now staring at. From the moment she first came aboard Seven of Nine, former borg drone, had taken every opportunity open to her and many that weren't to question or circumvent B'Elanna's authority. She realised that she and her department were not alone in this, Seven at one time or another had probably interfered with every department on the ship. Her early run-ins with Captain Janeaway had become legendary, taking second place only to the arguments still to be heard between the borg and Klingon-human hybrid, the prospect that one day one of their arguments would turn from vocal to physical adding that something extra to the crews voyeuristic pleasure. Still on this particular morning B'Elanna found herself happy that the ex-drone was in attendance, over the last ten days they had worked virtually side by side for over eighteen hours a day. The new system they were installing was a combination of borg acquired knowledge and Federation technology, or to be more accurate the combination of Seven and B'Elanna's ingenuity and hard work. It had been far from an argument or tension free time for the duo, and many of the engineering staff had reconsidered their assignments and thought about transfers to less hazardous duty, such as food taster for Mr Neelix, but over time they had found a way to work productively with one another and reluctantly to appreciate the others skills.

B'Elanna nodded to Seven, who returned the gesture with a slight dip of her head, and proceeded if possible to straighten her posture even further in preparation for the task ahead.

"Right people," B'Elanna began, clapping her hands twice to make sure she had everyone's undivided attention, "We begin phase one testing in five minutes, take your designated places and don't forget if any of you see signs of stress fractural misalignments or overt power fluctuations call for immediate shut down. This is no time to worry about the chain of command, by the time you've double checked with me the deflector dish could have suffered a melt down."

Seven looked over at the chief engineer with a slightly raised ocular implant but remained silent, they both knew that the chances of the deflector suffering anything more serious than a few burnt out relays was near zero but it didn't hurt to have the team extra vigilant.

"Torres to the bridge"

"Yes B'Elanna." Came the Captain's reply, her usually throaty voice carrying with it a touch of excitement. The prospect of a new engineering breakthrough appealed to the scientist who was still a large part of Kathryn Janeway, even though she had not participated in the hands on aspects of this latest experiment she couldn't help but feel involved, after all this was her ship and the two people most responsible were two of her finest, if most difficult, officers.

"Ready to begin test sequence."

"On your mark Lieutenant." The captain replied, giving over the control of the testing to the chief engineer. B'Elanna was elated by what would seem to most a small gesture, but what signalled to her both the Captain's faith in her abilities and her acceptance that this was B'Elanna's project. Looking around in preparation for giving the order to proceed B'Elanna caught the look of anticipation and possibly even excitement that was in Seven's eyes. For the barest of seconds she stopped to wonder when it was that she had begun to notice the emotions so cleverly hidden in Seven's facade before deciding to learn from the example of her captain, even if the meaning behind it was lost on the recipient.

"Are we ready Seven?"

"Yes Lieutenant, awaiting your mark." Seven, although somewhat confused about why she was suddenly consulted, set to her task of monitoring the astrometrics sensor readings.

"On my mark then, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, Mark." With the sound of Torres's last word still in the air every monitor and tricorder in the room bleeped into life. Crew members hunched over their equipment trying to detect any signs of trouble while others were forced to try and cope with the mountains of information they were now receiving.

Like many of the improvements to Voyager over the years this latest came about as the result of necessity. Three weeks previously two unidentified vessels had opened fire on Voyager for no apparent reason, and although both ships were smaller than the Federation craft they managed to combine to create a formidable foe. Eventually Captain Janeway had managed to out manoeuvre them and escape using warp drive, but not before a volley of phaser fire had crippled the long range sensors and a large percentage of the deflector relays. Showing what made her such a great engineer B'Elanna changed what would have been a mere patch up job to a major improvement. For months Seven had been sending in requests to both the chief engineer and the Captain for a major restructuring of the astrometric sensors. While carrying out Seven's original proposal was impossible without leaving themselves virtually blind for the duration of the retrofit, the current situation meant that whatever they did sensors would be off-line for days so it was the perfect opportunity to put the new theories into practice. Not only were they going to significantly upgrade the sensors but another pet project that had found a home with both B'Elanna and Seven separately, that of providing Voyager with a temporary cloaking device designed specifically to trick borg sensors, could now be tried and tested.

After twenty three minutes of intense activity and silent prayers and curses from the engineering crew phase one of the test was completed satisfactorily. A general releasing of tension and held breath was heard in main engineering as the crew realised that all their hard work had so far been successful. B'Elanna knew that this was only the first step in perfecting the new system but did allow herself a silent cheer as she went about congratulating the crew on a job well done. She finished her round of congratulations with Seven, the tall blonde was showing none of the pleasure that resided on the faces of the others, the emotions B'Elanna had thought she'd detected before testing were no longer present and her face had gone back to what B'Elanna thought of as 'pure borg'.

"Good work Seven" B'Elanna began reaching out unconsciously to grasp Seven's arm, "we did a good job."

"It is too soon to begin congratulations, Lieutenant, there are still two more phases of testing to be completed before we know if the modifications have been successful."

"Come on Seven lighten up for once, we did good." B'Elanna reiterated starting to get exasperated with the former borg's emotionless response.

"We," Seven pauses momentarily in her reply as she registered a new sensation on her arm, a rhythmic pressure resulting from the Klingon's thumb stroking her upper arm. On realising what was causing this the former borg experienced a series of odd physiological reactions, her respiration increased and blood rushed to the surface of her cheeks, "did good." The reply was not the one she had been preparing, but it was the one that would allow the most speedy, yet polite, exit from the Klingon's presence, and at that moment distance between herself and B'Elanna seemed a highly desirable thing.

With a slight smile and a nod the engineer left the bewildered borg to contemplate what had just caused her body's minor malfunction, and to decide whether or not a visit to the doctor was in order.

In the mess hall three hours later the mood was still one of jubilation, not so much due to the successful testing of a new system, but the knowledge that once again they had working sensors and could for a little while feel safe. Harry Kim and Tom Paris were trying to enjoy a quick meal before returning to duty, but unfortunately Mr Neelix had been experimenting again with native spices so although a speedy meal was guaranteed, enjoyment of it was highly unlikely.

"What is that?" Harry whispered, pointing to an odd shaped black object on his plate.

"Its best not to ask," replied Paris, hiding a similar object behind his napkin "you'd think after all these years he'd have figured out that no one likes this stuff."

"That's not fair Tom, the food has improved a lot to how it was at first, its just that some of the experiments take getting used to." Harry defended the chef while secretly trying to hide the black object under his fork.

"Whatever, so Harry you joining me tonight to work on the holodeck? I've got this idea for a new program that will make the others look like kids toys." Tom's whole body was suddenly animated as he prepared to tell his friend of his latest hobby, "I came up with the idea this morning, its"

"Sorry Tom," Harry interupted "I've got a date tonight"

"A date? With who?"

"Ensign Mortimer." Try as he might the younger ensign couldn't keep the soppy grin off his face, he'd been fighting the crush he'd formed on the security officer for months, fearing it would just end up as disasterous as his previous ones. Then four days ago after being given a push by B'Elanna he'd worked up the courage to ask the other ensign out to dinner. At that time she had turned him down stating she had a prior engagement, when he'd told this to Tom his friend had comiserated with him on his bad luck with women and offered to give him tips on how to handle them. Then this morning on his way to the bridge Ensign Mortimer had approached him rather timidly and asked him out to dinner. Harry eagerly accepted although he was still a little nervous, his confidence over the years had increased but when it came to women the young man often wished he had Tom's self assurance. After all, anyone who could capture the heart of B'Elanna Torres had to know what they were doing, even though lately he had begun to suspect that his friend was not such a fountain of wisdom about the ladies as her proclaimed.

"Mortimer, I thought she turned you down?"

"Well yeah, but that was just because she was busy."

"I dunno, Harry, she seems a bit too flighty for you, changing her mind all the time, you'd be better off with."

"I like her," Harry interupted again "and she's no flighty. I once even heard Tuvok say how efficient she was, and coming from him you know she'd deserve the compliment."

"Oh so taking romance advice from a Vulcan now are you?" Tom chuckled to himself, poor Harry the guy didn't know what he was doing, it was just lucky for him that he had a friend who was willing and able to offer assistance, thought the helmsman.

"No, I just meant"

"Harry trust me, this girl isn't for you, she'd break your heart, yet again. Let me fix you up with someone." Tom gave his friend his number two endearing smile then lowered his voice, "and trust me she won't disappoint you."

"Thanks, but no thanks Tom" said Harry getting up to leave, "see you on the bridge."

"What..." Tom found himself alone at his table before he could finish his sentence, 'great just walk out on me why don't you?' Tom started to fume silently, 'What is with these people lately, you try to offer some friendly advise and they go all moody on you. It's as if no one takes anything I say seriously any more.' Tom just continued to sit there staring at the crew seated around him and replaying over and over all the instances of late when he felt in someway under appreciated, it was quite a long list. Then out the corner of his eye he spotted Lt. Carrey enter the room, the engineer walked over towards a table of young ensigns who immediately straightened in their seats and gave the man their full attention. 'That's it' thought Paris, 'there is only one way a man like Joe Carrey would get that kind of respect, and that's through his rank. It's so obvious, ever since the Captain demoted me people have acted differently, now I'm just an ensign they feel my opinion doesn't matter.' A smile spread over the sandy-haired man's face as a plan began to form, 'if having a rank will get them to appreciate me, then I'll just have to make sure I get one.'

With a slight whistle and bounce in his step, Tom Paris left the mess hall, all the while imagining the scene when the Captain finally reinstates his rank and personally places the pips back on his collar.

Part 2

The chime to the Captain's ready room sounded, and Kathryn Janeway quickly put down the sandwich she had only just managed to find time for. After swiping a napkin over her mouth to take away any embarrassing traces of mayonnaise, she called out "Enter."

The door slid open and in walked Ensign Tom Paris, a slight smile touching his lips as he stood to attention in front of the captain's desk. Janeway looked at the young man in front of her and although his smile was as disarming as ever there was something different about the way he held himself. His usual posture conveyed his relaxed nature even when standing at attention, but today his body was ramrod straight in a pose that even the academy's strictest drill instructor would approve. Janeway was immediately put on guard, the only time she'd ever seen a stance approaching this the helmsman had just defied the Prime Directive and was being demoted. Wracking her brains Janeway tried to think of what trouble the man might have caused this time, but so far she was coming up a blank.

"Yes Tom." Came the Captain's neutral greeting, she didn't want to show her trepidation at what could turn out to be a harmless report or request for more holodeck time.

"Captain, I wanted to talk with you about my duties aboard Voyager."

"Your duties?"

"Yes ma'am, or rather about extending them."

"You want to extend your duties?" Janeway slightly relaxed in her chair thinking this was another ploy by the young man to either be included in what he hoped would be an exciting away mission or perhaps to upgrade the Delta Flyer.

"Yes Captain. I've been thinking a lot lately about my role on Voyager, specifically since I was demoted, and I have come to the realisation that although I've always thought of Voyager as my home and the people here as my, well as my family I guess," here he gave Janeway one of his puppy dog grins, "I now know that I haven't done everything in my ability to protect that family and help us get back to Earth."

Janeway sat forward in her chair and looked searchingly into the man's eyes, this was what she had been hoping for from the helmsman ever since they were stranded in the Delta Quadrant. After six years she had begun to think that although he was a great pilot and for the most part a good officer he would never be mature enough for command. She was fortunate, Voyager's crew consisted of a number of outstanding officers who under other circumstances would have been heading towards commands of their own, well so long as Starfleet overlooked the fact that a few of them had once belonged to a terrorist organisation or the borg collective, but now for the first time she hoped to add Tom's name to that list. Kathryn realised she was getting ahead of herself, and the ensign, and she should find out exactly what his ideas for helping his 'family' were.

"So what are you proposing Mr Paris?"

"Well, I thought the best way for me to benefit Voyager would be by using what I'm good at to its fullest potential." Paris scrutinised the Captain hoping to gage whether or not she was responsive to his approach, so far her reactions had been what he hoped but he knew that with Janeway he had to be on his guard, not that he didn't mean what he was saying, Voyager was his home, only he had a few incentives besides group welfare for his current proposition. "The one thing I am truly good at being my piloting skills."

"But you are already helmsman on the alpha shift," Janeway interrupted, "and the most consistent pilot of the Delta Flyer, how do you intend to stretch your piloting skills to further advantage Voyager?"

Tom Paris smiled and loosened up his pose, this was the part of his plan that he knew would clinch it for him, offering to share the thing that made him special, the one ability that he had always prided himself on.

"I want to teach what I know to others."

"How do you mean Tom?" Janeway was intrigued by his suggestion, even if she was uncertain exactly what he meant. Voyager had a plethora of experienced pilots, even if none did quite come up to Tom's level, shuttle piloting was taught to all recruits so the crew were all at least aware of the basics of flying a craft.

"As I see it ma'am there are perhaps four people on board that are capable of piloting Voyager to its full potential during a crisis. One of those people is Commander Chakotay, who if you were to become incapacitated, would be called upon to captain the ship."

The Captain nodded, she had long made plans for the possibility of her death, the fear of leaving her people unprotected a more terrifying prospect than meeting up again with the Borg Queen.

"That would leave us with three first class pilots," Paris continued, "not a sufficient number to man the helm of Voyager and the Delta Flyer for any extended period, and that doesn't even take into account the possibility of one of those being injured or killed."

"So what do you have in mind Ensign?"

"I want to start training a number of the crew from different departments in the finer arts of flying both the Delta Flyer and Voyager." Tom looked his captain in the eye and tried to convey his earnestness, this was the moment when she could most easily say no and spoil all his plans.

"That seems a reasonable request," Janeway looked slightly unhappy, "what I want to know is why no-one else has pointed this out before?"

"Erm, well Captain it's not something that a great deal of the ship's company would know about. I mean to most a pilot is a pilot, it's only if you know the difference between a really good one and an average one that you see the problem." Tom shifted his eyes to look at the floor for a second. "As a pilot I should have seen the problem sooner, but it was only as I began to examine my own role on the ship that I recognised the inadequacy of the present situation."

Kathryn nodded again, it still concerned her that a situation like this could be allowed to develop, but she was again impressed with the young man's willingness to take responsibility for his oversight. Tom Paris of a few months, if not days, ago would have instead come out with an instant excuse.

"Have a written proposal on my desk by 21 hundred hours." Kathryn smiled at the now relaxing young man. "I'll have Commander Chakotay rearrange the duty roster once you and he decide on the candidates for training."

Tom wasn't too happy with having to consult with Chakotay, but recognising that he'd succeeded in his plan, gave the Captain a wide smile and said a jaunty "Yes ma'am."

"Tom."

Paris once again straightened into parade stance at the commanding tone of the Captain's voice.

"Good work."

Tom felt himself infused with a sense of pride that had nothing to do with his plans for regaining his rank. Giving a curt nod of appreciation he turned and left the captain's ready room.

Activity in main engineering had decreased since the excitement of the morning's test, but for the chief engineer and astrometrics officer work continued at the same elevated pace. Preparations for the second test, which would measure the output of the false sensor data needed to establish a working cloak, were being discussed, along with finalising the installation of the new sensors monitoring equipment. It was the placement of the monitoring equipment, or rather the access panels that enabled it to be reprogrammed or repaired that was causing friction between the two officers at present.

"In an emergency it is my engineers who have to have quick and easy access to the equipment." B'Elanna stated for the third time, after hours of high pressure activity the engineer was ready to snap at the next person who spoke, her antagonism towards Seven, although tamed over the last week, made the ex-borg an obvious recipient for her pent up frustrations.

"Sensor analysis is to be carried out in astrometrics," Seven calmly responded, recognising that the engineer was more than probably arguing due to excessive amounts of stress, she had decided to desist from annoying the Klingon and remain extra calm and logical during their debate, but there was no-way she was going to give way to the fiery woman, after all she was right, "it is therefore logical to place the access hatches and internal systems diagnostic in that area. A separate monitoring system should then be placed in engineering, as it is for other non engineering systems."

"Great, so every time your little sensors have a hiccup I have to send out an engineering crew on a trek to fix it." Seven's lack of emotion was making the Klingon even more angry as the argument progressed. "That is a waste of my teams valuable time. If the.."

"I am more than capable of fixing the sensors if a 'hiccup' should occur." Seven interrupted, she was becoming angered by the Klingon's disregard of her own engineering skills.

"You are not an engineer Seven." Seeing the flash in the former borg's eyes B'Elanna decided to amend that statement, especially as Seven had spent the previous ten days working as an engineer, and a first class one. "Well all right you are capable of fixing the equipment, but not everyone in astrometrics is as well versed in engineering as you are."

It was at this time that a hesitant Harry Kim made his presence known to the two women, walking up to them slowly as if afraid of taking some friendly fire, he gave a slight cough to announce his arrival.

"Ensign Kim, do you have an infection?" Seven enquired.

"Yeah, Harry, I hope it's nothing catching." Joined in an amused B'Elanna Torres, having seen what she took for a mischievous look in Seven's eyes, and hoping to dispel the mounting tension between them.

"No Seven I was just being polite." Harry gave the Klingon what he hoped was a hard look, not recognising that the borg was in fact joking, he thought it his duty to help school the inexperienced woman in one of the social niceties the doctor had obviously overlooked.

"Expelling bacteria into the atmosphere is a form of politeness?" Seven enquired, placing her hands behind her back she gave the young man her most attentive look.

"Well." Harry began.

"And here I thought the Cardassians cornered the market on disgusting customs." B'Elanna piped up.

"Klingons have their fare share." Harry shot back, then realising that Klingons also have a large share of the 'killing people for insulting their culture' market, decided to address all his comments to Seven, and quickly. "The cough is just a way to announce your presence without scaring the other person."

"So if you saw a Klingon engaged in one of their many disgusting customs you would cough before announcing yourself to them?" Seven asked in her most neutral voice, casting a quick glance towards B'Elanna to make sure she took no offence, which she obviously didn't as it appeared that all she could manage at that moment was to bite the inside of her cheek in an effort not to laugh at the unfortunate ensign's ever reddening face.

"Erm I, yes I guess, not that they would, but if they did I would, although maybe not." Harry stammered, caught between trying to instruct Seven and not insult B'Elanna's people.

"I see, thank you for the explanation ensign." Seven cut in, deciding to be lenient.

"So Harry, now that we've established you're not in need of any medical assistance, how can we help you?" B'Elanna asked, her mood having improved greatly with his interruption.

"The Captain sent me down to consult with you both about the interface between the new systems and the bridge."

"They shouldn't be too difficult, most of the sensor readings will still be able to be displayed on the existing equipment." Torres began, turning around she picked up a data pad from the pile sitting on the console behind her, and after giving it a quick scan handed it to the ensign. "Seven and I worked up a draft proposal for bridge modifications, if you want to look at it and tell us what you think."

"Excuse me." Came a voice from behind the trio.

"Yes Vorik, is there a problem?" Answered B'Elanna.

"No Lieutenant, but I require Seven of Nine's assistance in calibrating the secondary relays to astrometrics." Vorik turned slightly to face the ex-borg.

"Yes of course." Seven gave the Vulcan a slight nod. "If you will excuse me Lieutenant, Ensign."

"Sure Seven."

"Yeah." B'Elanna caught herself staring at the borg's retreating form, and what a nice form it was, and immediately forced her eyes away to study her friend, who she noticed with a tiny smile was also paying rather a lot of attention to the retreating woman. "Nice to know that the Vulcan's have managed to evolve a way of interrupting without splattering everyone with four strains of virus."

"Ha, ha." Harry having turned from watching Seven quickly glanced back in her direction. "She probably thinks I'm a cultural buffoon now."

"Does it matter what she thinks?"

"She's my friend B'Elanna." Harry was once again ready to defend the ex-borg.

"That's not what I meant Harry." The Klingon rushed in, seeing her friend's protective streak start to exert itself.

"Then what did you mean?"

"I know you used to have a thing for our little borg," B'Elanna smiled trying to take away any embarrassment he might still feel over his encounter with Seven, "but I thought now you and Claire were seeing each other you wouldn't be so anxious about how Seven saw you."

"Claire and I haven't even had our first date yet." Self conscience, Harry began to tug on his uniform jacket to remove non existent wrinkles. "I know Seven and I will never be more than friends, and I'm okay with that, but I still value her opinion."

"I'm sorry Harry, of course you do."

"I guess I just fell for her a bit too quick." Continued the ensign with an indulgent smile.

"Who Seven or Claire?" Probed the engineer.

"Seven." Seeing his friend's puzzled look he decided to elaborate. "I began to develop romantic type feelings for her after she'd been on the ship for only a short time. So when she sensed what I was feeling she reacted to it in a very borg way, which just happened to be blunt, to the point and very embarrassing."

A small laugh escaped the Klingon as she recalled Harry's description of what had occurred between him and Seven.

"Yeah well, but the point is, if I'd fallen for her now things would have been different."

"How so?" Despite herself B'Elanna was very intrigued by her friend's insight into the ex-borg.

"She's not a drone anymore." Harry stopped thinking that would explain everything, but from the expectant look on B'Elanna's face he knew she was waiting for more. "She feels."

"She feels?" B'Elanna looked slightly disgusted. "That's it."

"Shhhhh," Harry cautioned, looking around engineering to make sure no-one had heard the Klingon's rather loud last words, "the fact that Seven's developed her emotions to the point where she's ready for a romantic relationship is a big deal."

"You think she's ready for romance?" B'Elanna whispered.

"Yes I do."

"Then why aren't you first in line?"

"I told you it's too late for me and Seven, it just feels different between us now, I don't know." Harry seemed to try and work out for himself what he was feeling before continuing. "I still find her attractive, but then who wouldn't, but now it's as a friend nothing more. Besides now there's Claire, and I feel about her what I used to feel towards Seven, only Claire agreed to go out with me."

"So tonight's the big night then." B'Elanna enquired, hoping to change the subject from Seven, even though she was eager to question Harry some more about his perception of the beautiful young borg, she felt strange about her sudden fascination with the other woman.

"Yeah," after recovering from a tiny blush Harry proceeded to tell the engineer all about his plans for the evening, listening intently to her friend B'Elanna still found her eyes drawn to the figure of Seven of Nine deep in consultation with Vorik. The two bodies were both still in conversation, but while the Vulcan stood there passive the ex-borg seemed to convey a sense of captured energy, as if at any sign of danger she could spring into action, that combined with her sleek look reminded the Klingon of an Earth cat. B'Elanna found her mind then pondering whether or not Seven would be as soft to the touch or as ferocious.

"B'Elanna........B'Elanna." Harry poked his friend in the arm.

"Yes, what?" An embarrassed B'Elanna cleared her head of those strange and unwelcome images and tried once again to concentrate on her friend, her concentration greatly improving when Seven left engineering.

After being commanded by the Captain to leave engineering and get some well earned rest, B'Elanna and Seven found themselves entering the mess hall together, an unusual enough occurrence to garner a few looks from the people seated about the room. Had they known that their reason for dining together was to further discuss the sensor grid, the looks of astonishment would most likely have turned to mutters of 'workaholic' or some such thing. Collecting their food from a smiling Neelix the two women went to join Commander Chakotay and Ensign Paris.

"Finally decided to call it a night then ladies, I know the Captain was anxious that you would work yourselves into the ground." Asked the second in command, his handsome face creasing into a happy grin.

"Overanxious." Muttered the Klingon.

"Hmm?"

"The Captain ordered Lieutenant Torres and myself to leave engineering." Clarified Seven, even though she sounded just as pleased with the situation as B'Elanna.

"You've both had a busy day, I'm sure the Captain just wants you properly refreshed for tomorrow." Chakotay continued, "We were all pleased with the results of the test, it's good to have sensors back up, I think I might even be able to sleep tonight."

"I was unaware of a connection between the sensors and crew sleep patterns, or is this a condition pertaining only to yourself Commander?" Seven asked, despite all her knowledge of humanity there was always something new to assimilate.

Tom let out a laugh at this, while Chakotay smiled and prepared to explain to the young woman, but B'Elanna beat him to it.

"He was referring to the peace of mind the sensors produce Seven." Forestalling another question B'Elanna hurried on, "The sensors warn us of incoming danger, with them off-line danger can be upon us with out warning, this causes everyone on board to be more apprehensive than usual."

"And when people are apprehensive their sleep is disturbed." Finished Seven.

"Right," B'Elanna looked to her Maquis friend, "but I think in this instance Chakotay was exaggerating to convey a better sense of the security our work has afforded him."

Tom watched this exchange between his girlfriend and the ex-borg, something in B'Elanna's manner had definitely changed. Before this when Seven asked a question of a similar nature the Klingon, if forced, answered with barely restrained annoyance, but here not only had she volunteered the explanation but did so with patients and an even temper. The helmsman found the change intriguing but not worth pursuing at the moment, his mind was much too taken with his own plans to worry about inconsequentials like B'Elanna's relationship to Seven.

"Did you hear about the new project the Captain has placed me in charge of?" Tom piped up hoping to make a quick start in re-establishing his worth among the crew.

"What, did she make you chief of the holodeck or something." Asked an uninterested B'Elanna.

"No, I'm going to be teaching an elite group of pilots for battle readiness." Having dropped what he hoped was a bombshell on his two female listeners he sat back to await their praise.

"I thought we already had dozens of pilots" B'Elanna was still less than riveted.

"Yes but not of the right calibre." Tom looked towards Chakotay to back him up.

"We seem to have a shortage of well trainer experienced pilots," Chakotay begun, "Tom volunteered to train others so that in an emergency helm could be continuously manned by our best pilots."

"It seems a logical decision." Stated Seven before going back to eating what Neelix had described as a Roolan stew, avoiding the pink tinged objects of more pressing concern at that moment than one of Mr Paris's schemes.

"Hmm." Was the Klingon's only comment as she tried to work out what would be in it for Tom, then chiding herself for such an uncharitable thought added, "sounds great Tom, I'm sure you'll do a fine job."

This wasn't exactly the overflowing enthusiasm Tom had been hoping for, but he knew that given time his contribution to Voyager's safety would garner him the respect he craved. Deciding to change the subject he pointed his fork towards the corner of the room and asked the two women, "Have you seen Harry?"

Both women looked up from their plates to scrutinise the couple sitting at the corner table, which Seven realised had been moved marginally to afford the occupants a little extra seclusion. Harry Kim was adorned in a new dark grey shirt, one that he had finally chosen after repeated consultations with an increasingly agitated B'Elanna. The woman sitting across from him, and from the look on her face, thoroughly enjoying her evening, was Claire Mortimer, an ensign assigned to security. Claire was of a similar age to Harry, a small woman of an athletic build, her most striking physical attribute being her bright red hair, which at that moment was tied back in two small plaits. Her hands seemed to be in continual motion as she related what looked to be an amusing story to a rapt Harry. Both women having come to the conclusion that they made a happy, or suitable couple turned back to their meals.

"Seems to be going well." B'Elanna commented.

"Come on, you'd think he'd take her to the holodeck or somewhere, he's not gonna get anywhere making her eat Neelix's food." Disagreed Tom.

"I don't know, if you can survive Neelix's stew together, a lifetime commitment is a piece of cake." Replied the commander with a chuckle.

"Ensign Mortimer does not care for the holodeck." Seven clarified.

"Everyone likes the holodeck," Paris argued, "even Tuvok uses it."

"Tuvok uses the holodeck for meditation and training exercises only, not as a form of entertainment." Seven countered.

"It's unnatural not to like the holodeck." Paris persisted, even though he was aware that he'd gone too far, but the borg was starting to bug him, I mean what did she know about what normal humans found enjoyable.

"Maybe not everyone prefers spending all their time in one, some people actually like reality." B'Elanna got in heatedly.

Seven, having finished her meal, rose to leave, "Relying on artificial constructs and make believe to build and sustain a romantic affiliation is a flawed hypothesis. Ensign Kim has been wise enough to realise this. Goodnight."

B'Elanna watched Seven leave thinking she's just described my whole relationship with Tom.

"Since when did Seven become an expert on romance?" Tom asked flippantly.

"When indeed." Mumbled the Klingon before, with a nod to the two men, leaving the mess hall.

Part 3

The corona of the dying sun was bright in the view screens of the two Diianic ships, proximity to the sun would, in time, be fatal to everything within its extended gravitational range, as what had once been home to a now extinct civilisation collapsed in upon itself. However it was not the astrological aspects of this sight, or even the beautiful display of colour it was providing for the universe that interested the Diianic, it was the ship nestled just beyond. For three weeks, since their failed attempt to destroy the trespasser, the two ships had been following the ion trail left by the fleeing vessel, although measures had obviously been taken to mask their escape, time, patience and luck had enabled the captains of the twin vessels to locate their target.

For twenty hours the two ships had carried out a systematic search of the area encompassing the dying sun, their sensors failing to pick up any trace of the other ship. Then when they were considering moving the search to another vector sensors indicated what appeared to be an asteroid exiting the gravitational wake of the sun. As the object increased its distance from the sun the Diianic sensors were able to discern that it was in fact the ship they had been following. Positive of the identification of the trespassers the two ships retreated to a distance outside normal sensor range of the other vessel, they too now using the sun's energy and gravitational fluxes to mask their presence.

For now the two ships would wait for the arrival of the prima vessel, a larger ship that was controlled by one of the sons of the upper charr, who would then take over as lead in the attack. The Diianic were a patient race, in stories told of the first charr's a wronged leader had trailed and planned revenge on an intruder for seventy-four days before taking action, by the time justice was dealt the first charr was too weak, from lack of food and rest, to continue home and so died by the body of his fallen victim. This was a story of courage and determination for the Diianic people, and every man or woman who entered into service hoped one day to test themselves in this manner and be proven worthy.

B'Elanna Torres couldn't sleep. For over two hours she lay in her bed, body fidgeting and mind racing, before giving in and heading back to engineering. She didn't know why she was having difficulty falling off to sleep, usually once repairs or upgrades had been finished she slept soundly, making up for all the lost hours she had devoted to the ship. Tonight was different, the success of the test, even though the first of three, had allayed her fears over the sensors, and as she had explained to Seven, now the sensors were up she should feel less apprehensive and so sleep easier, but she wasn't. Seven. Why did her mind keep going back to the former drone? The way she spoke, the tiny expressions that flitted across her face, even the way that damn implant arched above her brow, sometimes making B'Elanna want to punch her, and other times to kiss her... No not kiss, that wasn't right, maybe hug... No that couldn't be right either, the mere thought of the half klingon enveloping the ex-borg in an embrace would have the crew laughing in disbelief, and they'd be right to laugh, it was not something that would ever happen, of that B'Elanna felt certain, or at least she always had. "Stupid borg." She muttered, as if the blame for her insomnia was all Seven's, and reached for the closest data pad and the safety of her work.

B'Elanna soon found that even her work was somehow plotting against her attempts to put the young borg from her mind. Twenty minutes into her task she realised that she would need an isometric crosshatch spanner, but on questioning the computer for the whereabouts of the infrequently used item found it was kept in a storage container in cargo bay 2, the same cargo bay where Seven would at that moment be regenerating. "Stupid spanner."

After a further hour of avoidance and self imposed delays B'Elanna found herself outside cargo bay 2. She stood just beyond the range of the door's sensor debating with herself whether or not to enter. It would not be the first time she had been in the cargo bay while Seven was regenerating, but this time it felt like an invasion of the other woman's privacy, and that was not something she felt entitled to do. Still she needed the spanner, and this was a cargo bay after all not crew quarters, but it was also Seven's home. B'Elanna turned to leave, but her duty as head of engineering forced her to turn back, she was an engineer and she needed her tools, "Stupid damn spanner."

The cargo bay was quiet and, its normal lights having dimmed in accord with the imposed night aboard ship, glowed with a slight greenish tinge courtesy of the borg alcoves. It was those alcoves that the half klingon was trying desperately not to look at, feeling that if she didn't see Seven then she wouldn't be invading her privacy, or at least that was what she was trying to rationalise to herself. The urge to look was strong, and B'Elanna wondered how many others while fetching something from the large storage room had stopped to stare at the young woman in sleep. The thought disturbed her, what was Janeway thinking, regeneration although not exactly sleeping, was a time of vulnerability for Seven and the Captain should have realised that and provided her with a place of adequate privacy, she would talk to the Captain.

B'Elanna consulted her data pad for the number of the spanner's storage unit, and went off to search for it. Her search took her to the area directly in front of Seven's alcove, but by walking with the top half of her body swivelled to the left she managed to proceed and still keep her eyes from straying to the sleeping form. Unfortunately it also kept her from seeing the data pad storage unit that was directly in her path.

Thump!

'That hurt' was B'Elanna's first thought as she found herself flat on her face at the base of the borg alcoves. A string of curses in human, klingon and a number of other colourful languages was the next thing to cross her mind. Then just as she started to put those thoughts into words she looked up from her prone position and found herself looking directly at the still form of Seven of Nine. From her position on the floor the half klingon's eyes slowly travelled up the length of Seven's body, taking in the long shapely legs encased in the shimmering blue of the skin-tight biosuit, then moving on to the hips and tiny waist before reaching the curves of her chest. It was at that point that she remembered a remark made by Tom, which at the time had earned him a punch in the arm, and realising that similar thoughts, although not as crudely expressed, were now entering her mind, broke from the stare and scrambled to sit up.

"Is there something you require Lieutenant?" Came the smooth, and B'Elanna thought, amused voice of the alcove's occupant.

"What? No, well yes." Quickly getting to her feet B'Elanna made a show of brushing down her trouser legs to avoid having to look at the other woman.

"Which is it Lieutenant?" Seven questioned, stepping out from the alcove and moving to the area in front of the engineer.

"I." B'Elanna stopped her frantic brushing and taking a steadying breath met Seven's gaze, she wondered if the former borg could still detect her blush in the dim lighting, then catching sight of the ocular implant had her answer. "I was looking for something."

"On the floor?"

"No!" The half klingon surpressed the sudden urge to again start brushing down her clothes. "I'm looking for an isometric crosshatch spanner." So there, she added under her breath and turned back to look at the containers she had been searching.

"Why did you not ask for my assistance?" Seven pressed, walking up to stand behind the other woman.

"You were.. " B'Elanna turned to answer and found Seven standing only inches in front of her face, "regenerating." She leaned back to give her more distance from the blonde while not appearing to run from her. "I didn't want to invade your privacy."

"My privacy?" The ocular implant rose, and punching Seven definitely wasn't what went through B'Elanna's mind.

"You were sleeping, it's bad manners to interrupt someone when they are asleep, especially when you're the one invading their home."

"But I do not have a home to be invaded." The ocular implant went up a notch, as did the half klingon's temperature.

"Seven this is where you live and sleep," seeing her about to protest B'Elanna qualified "I know you don't actually sleep as such, but you still deserve to have privacy while you regenerate. I'm surprised the Captain never suggested something along those lines."

"I do not believe the Captain shares your views on my regeneration cycle."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because she has in the past interrupted my regeneration cycle to discuss ship's business, and been present while I 'slept', so she obviously does not see it as a breach of my privacy."

"But it is!" B'Elanna almost yelled, she was most definitely going to have words with the Captain over this matter, didn't Janeway see how important it was for a person to have their own space, wasn't that part of the reasoning behind most penal systems, to deny privacy as punishment. "Every other member of the crew has somewhere they can be alone without interruption, even the doctor has his office, but the place where you regenerate is open to everyone. That's just not right."

Seven studied B'Elanna for a moment, "Then why did you not say anything sooner?"

"I guess I just never thought about it," the half klingon lowered her head, "I'm sorry Seven, I should have realised before, instead I just used to barge in here without thinking."

"You apologised." Seven stated quietly as she studied the other woman, and when B'Elanna's eyes looked up to meet hers, she smiled "Apology accepted."

Standing so close to Seven and witnessing that sweetest of smiles was too much for the fiery woman, B'Elanna knew she had to get away from Seven, and fast, before she made a bigger fool of herself or started something she wasn't sure she could handle. Taking half a step back she turned and waving the data pad at Seven over her shoulder mumbled "gotta find the spanner" and started pulling off the lid to one of the containers. Her head stuck inside the container while rooting around at the bottom in a futile search for the missing piece of equipment, B'Elanna felt a warm hand press into her back. "Lieutenant?" called Seven, and the half klingon raised her head to once again find herself looking into the eyes of the other woman. "Is this what you want?" B'Elanna's mind shouted 'Yes' before her eyes took in the metal object that was being presented to her.

"Errm, yes." B'Elanna took the tool, "thank you Seven." Now in possession of what she came for the engineer prepared to make a hasty retreat, but her body defied her wishes and instead took the opportunity to soak up the warmth from the hand that was now loosely resting on her arm, a hand that didn't seem too eager to be removed.

"Red Alert!"

The two women turned to look towards the doors of the cargo bay as the warning came blaring out of the comm. system, then with one final look at one another, turned and left for their stations, all thoughts and confusions concerning the other forgotten in the rush to confront the newest danger facing the ship.

In astrometrics the delta shift had been familiarising itself with the newly improved sensors. A young Bajoran officer, Tel Celes, had been checking her readings for the area behind the dying sun, Voyager's closest neighbour and partial shield, when something began to register on her display. A shape was beginning to form at the edge of sensor range, and as Celes fine tuned her readings the image of three vessels began to materialise. The nervous officer looked about her for someone to confirm what she had seen, but no one was currently in the room with her, so she double checked her readings, then triple checked them, but still the three ships remained.

"Astrometrics to the bridge." Came a slightly wavering voice over the bridge's comm. "We are detecting three vessels in formation in an area behind the sun."

"Do you know who's ships they are?" Questioned Lieutenant Bloom, the officer in charge of the bridge during the delta shift.

"No, they're too far away." Celes cut off her answer to enter more commands into her station. "I think they could be of a similar type to the ships that recently attacked us."

"You think?" Bloom sounded less than thrilled with the answer, "are they moving towards us?"

"No, they're in a stationary position."

Bloom made the decision and set the ship on red alert, then contacted the Captain to fully explain the current situation.

An hour later the senior officers sat around the conference table, Seven was reciting the information gathered by her team on the three mystery vessels, which was little more than that first reported by Tel Celes.

"So they're just sat watching us." Interrupted Tom Paris

"From what we know of their sensors it is improbable that they can detect us at this time, but they are in an excellent position to register any move made by us from the protection of the sun's gravitational fluxes." Seven spared the helmsman a brief look, she had already explained it once but obviously the language used had too many syllables for the man. "Their knowledge of our whereabouts was probably gained during the time Voyager extended its distance from the sun to test the new sensors."

"So if it wasn't for your new sensors they wouldn't have found us." Paris continued, this new emergency was upsetting his plans, and it was all down to the borg and his wandering girlfriend. If she'd spent more time with him and less with the insides of the ship they wouldn't be in this mess.

"Mr Paris," interrupted the Captain not liking the tone in his voice, "it is unimportant how they found us, what I want to know is why they are trailing us and what the options are in case of another attack." Janeway looked around the table taking in each of her officers in turn, her eyes finally resting on Tuvok.

"Without sufficient data on the species controlling the vessels it is difficult to ascertain the reason behind their first attack or their currant actions. However, unprovoked attacks from an unknown species often fall into one of two categories." Tuvok paused, then seeing Mr Kim about to ask an unnecessary question in an illogical attempt to speed up his commentary, continued. "Firstly, that our presence contravened a social custom or law pertaining to these people, they could xenophobic or deny all access to their space."

"But wouldn't they inform us if it was just a case of encroaching on their space?" cut in Chakotay.

"Not necessarily, even in some human cultures trespassing was punished by instant death." Chakotay nodded for Tuvok to continue, "Secondly the attackers might have seen us as an easy target for profit."

"They got that wrong." Piped up the chief engineer.

"Precisely." The Vulcan concluded, "that is why the first option is the more probable."

"And the harder to stop," added the Captain, "if they were merely after profit there would come a time when the costs involved would exceed any suspected profits, and make the venture unviable, therefore we could have just waited them out."

"It could still be possible to wait them out." Said Seven.

"Yes, but I also want other options." The Captain again looked around the room.

"What about the new cloak you've been working on?" Chakotay questioned B'Elanna.

"I've thought about that, but the cloaking device we've been developing is specifically designed to fool borg technology. I'm not sure it could be successfully modified to fool these ships." B'Elanna looked towards Seven for confirmation.

"Our knowledge of the vessels is extremely limited, and as the cloaking device interferes with the ship's weapons system it would be unwise to test it under live fire without another source of weapons support." Seven gave the engineer a small smile on finishing, it was not lost on her the way the other woman included her in the engineering decisions, not something she would have willingly done before.

"What about the Delta Flyer?" came Tom's excited voice, visions of Captain Proton to the rescue were flooding his mind and saving Voyager from the vessels would be a great way to earn back his pips. "I could take her out and provide covering fire while we see if the cloak works."

"That would leave the Flyer alone to face the other vessels," B'Elanna reasoned, "if the cloak did work we couldn't engage in the fight without showing ourselves."

Tom gave B'Elanna a condescending smile, he was glad to see what he thought was concern for his safety from his girlfriend, even if in doing so she was under appreciating his skills as a pilot, but he was confident he could handle anything that was thrown at him. "The Delta Flyer is capable of holding its own."

"Really?" Said Tuvok.

"Really?" Echoed Seven.

"Yeah, I mean if things got tight and you couldn't provide back up I could simply head back behind the sun and join up with Voyager," Tom looked towards the Captain as he explained his idea. There was no way cold fish like Tuvok or Seven would be able to recognise the beauty of his simple plan, for either of them to get involved an idea would need forty-two contingencies, with a data pad full of facts and figures to back it up, but he knew the Captain would appreciate it.

"Tom, I want you to work with Tuvok on testing your theory." Kathryn wasn't really convinced by the idea, but perhaps with the Vulcan's involvement they could come up with a workable idea. "I also want you to start training a few more pilots, as we've already discussed, but not knowing the time frame I would suggest you pick those who are already fairly skilled and work on improving them. Four people should be enough a present."

"Yes ma'am." This was better than he could have hoped for.

"B'Elanna, Seven, I want the two of you to work on getting the cloak up and running. It's top priority so take all the people and resources you need. I also want the engines ready for immediate warp if we're forced to make a run for it."

"Yes Captain." They answered in unison.

"Harry, while Seven is engaged with working on the cloak, I want you to supervise the sensors." Janeway caste a quick glance at the borg to make sure she wasn't about to protest at the intrusion, but Seven seemed more concerned with whatever was on Torres's data pad. "I want anything you can find out about our three watchers."

"Ma'am"

"Tuvok, I want to see our tactical options," glancing again at the other two women the Captain hoped to gain confidence about the workability of the shields, but instead noticed something else about their interaction that unnerved her and left her feeling somewhat dejected, although it had nothing to do with the crisis, "with or without the cloak."

After dismissing her officers Janeway watched them file out. Tom, deep in discussion with Harry over the choices for pilot training, didn't seem to notice B'Elanna walking unusually close to Seven. Nor did he seem to pay attention when just as they left her field of vision the half klingon put her hand on Seven's arm. 'What's going on there' she thought, wanting her officers to get along was one thing but seeing someone else touch Seven was different, even though she wasn't sure why. Besides if anything was going on wouldn't Tom have noticed? Kathryn cleared her mind of such thoughts, being threatened with enemy attack was hardly the right time to go probing her psyche, or develop paranoia. She would sit and have a good talk with Seven as soon as the crisis lessened, it was about time she allowed herself to get close again with the young woman

Part 4

Neelix stood by the counter in the mess-hall trying to help Ensign Janick with his choice of vegetable, or rather trying to dissuade the man from replicating a helping of mashed potato when there was perfectly good paroo root already sitting in the pot before him. The ensign was proving less than willing to try the alternate food, saying something about not eating anything florescent green. Neelix just didn't understand these people when it came to food, here he was trying his best to vary their diet and add a little spice to their very dull food, and for the most part they turned their noses up at it and preferred, when able, to eat from the replicators.

"Neelix come on," said an impatient Tom Paris, pulling at the Talaxian's colourful sleeve, "you're not on kitchen duty now."

"But I just wanted to help," Neelix brought up a big spoonful of paroo root and tried to get it close to Ensign Janick's plate, but the man seeing it coming made a dash for the other end of the counter where cold foods had been laid out, "Glen, Glen you forgot your vegetables."

"Neelix, you're a pilot now remember." Saying this Tom turned and headed for the table already occupied by Harry Kim and Claire Mortimer. Left alone Neelix turned back to the other ensign in hopes of filling his plate, but the man had taken the opportunity Paris had provided to make an escape of his own. Believing the man had simply forgotten his vegetable Neelix made him up a separate plate with a large helping of the florescent delicacy and took it over to him.

Tom watched Neelix chase after the poor ensign with a chuckle, he thought all this fuss over food was silly. "I don't know why he bothers, people can just use the replicators until the emergency is over." He stated to the two other occupants of the table, who had, until he joined them, been trying to have a private conversation, not something they had been able to do recently due to all the extra work they were both putting in during the current crisis.

"Yeah," said Harry, trying to hide his displeasure at being interrupted, after all Tom was his best friend and he probably didn't realise they wanted to be alone.

"He worries about the welfare of the crew," added Claire, after having to put up with Paris all morning she was less willing to forgive the pushy ensign, besides she liked Neelix and understood his need to look after the crew, as a security officer she shared that need, "besides, if the situation is prolonged replicators might have to be more severely rationed, so by getting people to choose freshly cooked food now he's saving resources."

"We won't need more rationing," Tom scoffed, "as soon as they get the cloak up we'll be out of here, as long as one of my fine pupils can handle Voyager while I'm drawing fire in the Delta Flyer that is." Tom smiled at Claire, one of the four pilot trainees he had selected. Claire tried hard to smile back, but Paris's condescension was starting to really annoy her. Since the early hours of the morning he had been standing over her and the other three pupils, as he liked to call them, and correcting every move they made. While the correcting of her piloting skills she expected, and welcomed in the hopes of improvement, it was the other corrections and advice that had grated on her. Being told to relax her posture she thought was a tip for diverting back ache, but Paris's only reason had been that it made them look better and not like a 'green first year cadet, too scared to breath without a direct command', Claire always prided herself on good posture, her grandmother had insisted, and even if she didn't quite match Seven's standards, she was close. Then there had been the smile. According to Paris when doing a certain manoeuvre you must accompany it with a smile, and if the manoeuvre was particularly daring a little murmur of 'yeah' or something equally as childish had to be given. For dodging a Borg cube Claire suspected you would have to jump on the console and hoot and holler to the tune of 'We are the Champions', while banging your feet and smiling a 1,000 watt smile at the captain or if possible the Borg Queen herself.

"So how's it going?" Harry interrupted Claire's musings, he had such a happy look on his face and she knew it was important to him that she and Tom get on, "the training I mean." Harry qualified when an answer wasn't immediately forthcoming.

"Fine." Said Claire.

"Fantastic." Said Tom, "don't worry Claire you'll be nearly as good as me before you know it." Giving her what she remembered was a 'just evaded a small asteroid, no big deal' smile, he turned to greet the new arrivals to the table.

The doctor knowing the work ethic of the two women in engineering had made it his business to keep tabs on their rest and nutritional needs. With the authority of the captain to back him up, he had ordered the two to go on a meal break of no less than thirty minutes. They had already been working for more than six hours without a break, but that wasn't anything new for either of them, so when they agreed without too much fuss the doctor was amazed if a little unsettled.

B'Elanna and Seven had picked up their meals along with a fussing Neelix and made to join the trio at the table.

"Do you mind if we join you?" asked Seven, in a formal tone straight out of one of the doctor's lessons, but her politeness was received by genuine smiles from Claire, Harry and B'Elanna, who had at one point thought politeness beyond the former drone.

"Sure Seven," answered Harry for the group.

"I see you've managed to corral another of my trainees to join us," said Tom pointing his fork at Neelix, then noticing the plate of paroo root Seven had laid down pulled a face. "Seven you don't have to eat that stuff you know, you should go replicate yourself something tasty." Seeing the slightly hurt look on the Talaxian's face, Tom nodded to the man, "no offence."

"None taken." Replied Neelix, but with a little less than his customary cheer.

"I find the dish acceptable." Seven told the Talaxian, earning herself a smile.

"That's high praise indeed coming from Seven, maybe I should try some," added B'Elanna, giving the florescent green concoction a scrutinising look. Before she could change her mind B'Elanna found a fork with a small portion of the vegetable heading for her mouth. She was too surprised at being hand fed by Seven to even think about refusing the odd looking dish. "Hmmm, that's good," she concluded, then looking up into Seven's eyes she saw something that made her stomach roll, and for once it couldn't be blamed entirely on Neelix's cooking.

"Well I don't care who feeds it to me I'm not eating it." Tom cut in with a chuckle, no-one bothered to point out he hadn't been offered any.

"How's work on the cloak progressing?" Harry asked after a few minutes of silence while everyone tucked into their food.

"It's not," growled B'Elanna, she had hoped to get away from the damn cloaking device for a while, even Seven seemed reluctant to talk about it, preferring to question the half klingon about her shoes, of all things, on the walk to the mess-hall.

"We are experiencing difficulty adapting the device to general use," clarified Seven.

"Oh, well if I... " Harry began to offer.

"How long will it take?" cut in Tom, "I mean you were preparing to test it yesterday, why the delay now?" Not waiting for an answer he rushed on, "My pilots and I will be ready in 4 or 5 hours."

Neelix and Claire looked rather shocked at this, they had both thought they had only just begun training, so far Paris hadn't taught them much more than they already knew.

B'Elanna was livid, her whole department had been working double shifts to try and get the cloak on-line, she and Seven had personally studied every inch of the device and the readings from the sensors on the three mystery ships, and yet they were still no further along than when they started. The problem was that the device they had come up with was to fool a totally different system, the complexity of the borg sensors had made for a very complex cloak, too complex to change easily and still work. It would, she thought, have been easier just to start again from scratch and build a normal cloak, with Seven's and her combined knowledge it probably wouldn't have been that difficult, but they just didn't have the time to build something that big from scratch. Now here was flyboy demanding that they work faster because he was ready.

"I'm so pleased you're ready Tom," B'Elanna began, her voice rising in volume as she spoke, "but building a cloak is a bit more difficult than left, right, up and down."

"Piloting is a lot more involved than that." Tom said hotly.

"Oh give me a break." B'Elanna laughed, "how hard can it be, you manage it."

All noise in the mess-hall had stopped as everyone turned to try and listen to the arguing couple, while those at the table were caught between wanting to interrupt and stop the fight and diving for cover, that is all except Seven who was looking at B'Elanna with fascination and hope.

"I... " Tom was lost for words, he couldn't believe anyone would question his skills as a pilot, then he smiled, 'of course this isn't about me, Lanna is just upset over failing to get the cloak to work.' Once again feeling confident in his abilities he made the mistake of trying to sweet talk an angered and frustrated half klingon. "Lanna don't worry about the cloak, I'm sure you'll get it working in plenty of time."

"Oh you're sure are you?" demanded the fired up woman. "That's all right then, we can just pack up the double shifts and wait for it to magically fix itself."

"That's not what I mean," continued Tom, Harry meanwhile was praying his friend would get a clue and drop it, "I just meant that you're the best at what you do, and no silly cloak is going to get the better of you."

The screeching of B'Elanna's chair as she stood up and prepared to launch herself at Tom, again drew all eyes to the table, not that many had ever turned away. But before she could make a leap for the helmsman's throat B'Elanna felt a warm arm grip her around the waist, then another arm wound itself across her upper chest, stopping her arms from reaching towards Tom.

"I believe the allotted time for our break has passed Lieutenant," whispered Seven into B'Elanna's ear, and with those few words, or maybe just the warmth of her breath caressing the angered woman's neck, B'Elanna relaxed. She turned slightly and making eye contact with the beautiful blonde she smiled, "I will be with you in a moment Seven." Hearing the calm that had entered her voice Seven relaxed her hold, although still allowing her hands to lightly rest on the other woman's side and shoulder.

"Tom, I'm sorry." B'Elanna began, and seeing Paris about to speak held up her hand to stop him. "I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you, and I shouldn't have degraded your flying."

"I understand," cut in Tom, he could do magnanimous he thought, "you're under a lot of pressure."

"No Tom, I'm always under pressure, it had nothing to do with that, or very little." B'Elanna looked round the mess-hall and decided that here probably wasn't the best place to have this conversation, but she knew she had to do it now. "Look let's go over to that other table and talk, okay?"

"We can talk here." Tom didn't want his friends to miss out on what he thought would be a grovelling apology from his girlfriend, after all she had been neglecting him lately and maybe doing this in front of everyone would stop her from doing it again. "I have no secrets from our friends, do you?"

Of course I do you idiot, she wanted to shout, everyone had secrets, but if Tom was going to force her to do this here then she would, "Okay then Tom, I want to break up." Just saying the words felt freeing to the now single engineer, but it was the slow stroking of a thumb along her shoulder blade that made B'Elanna's twin hearts race.

"What!" Tom spluttered.

"We haven't been getting along and I think it's for the best." B'Elanna just wanted to get out of there and back to engineering.

"The best for who?" Tom questioned. "I thought we were getting on fine."

"We weren't." B'Elanna looked towards Seven and then nodded to the door, signalling her desire to leave, "I have to get back to work, I am sorry Tom." With that B'Elanna, followed closely by a stunned and secretly very happy Seven of Nine, left the mess-hall.

Tom slumped in his seat not quite sure of what had just happened, surely she couldn't mean it, the man looked to his friends hoping to see reassuring expressions on their faces, but what he saw was pity. Clapping Harry on the back Tom said in the most jovial voice he could muster, "She knows how to win an argument doesn't she?" Seeing Harry attempt a smile he patted the man's back again, "Don't worry Harry, by tonight she'll have cooled down and be begging me to take her back."

"Yeah." Harry said, but 'I don't think so' was what he believed.

"Come on you two slow pokes, get a move on, I want to start the next part of your training." Tom called to Claire and Neelix as he got up from the table, trying desperately to convinced himself that B'Elanna would be back and apologising by nightfall. He almost believed it.

In the Captain's Ready Room the three most senior officers were going over preparations for a possible attack by the mystery vessels. Reports had been arriving from engineering throughout the day detailing their progress, or in this case lack of it.

"It's unlike B'Elanna to sound so negative about a project." Chakotay commented after reviewing the latest report. "Usually she's so determined to fix a problem she doesn't even contemplate the idea of failure."

"I was thinking the same about Seven," agreed Janeway, "it's just so unlike her to not think she can solve everything with that borg knowledge of hers."

"I believe they have made their conclusions based on the suitability of resources and the task they have been assigned." corrected Tuvok, "neither of them advanced the idea of adapting the cloaking device, and one can assume from that, that they did not see it as a worthwhile project."

"Then why agree to do it?" asked Chakotay.

"It was an order," Tuvok responded.

"That's never stopped either of them from arguing against doing something before," said Janeway, her earliest run ins with both women had been concerning their disregard or bending of given orders. Perhaps, she thought, her lectures on the chain of command had worked too well, and now both women were following their orders too closely.

"In the past both have argued against actions they thought were wrong or possessed only a small probability of success, especially when they had possible alternatives of their own." Tuvok continued, for a Vulcan he seemed to spend a lot of time analysing the behaviour of the crew, but being surrounded by species ruled by their emotions he found it beneficial, and in some instances vital, to try and chart how they would react to any given situation. "In this case I believe neither Lieutenant Torres or Seven of Nine had contemplated having to use the cloak for anything other than what it was designed, and so when the order was given both accepted it as a challenge to their engineering capabilities and duty towards the ship. Now that they have had time to research the problem they have come to the conclusion that the idea is unfeasible given the present time constraints."

"But they're still trying," added Chakotay.

"Neither give up that easily." Janeway smiled as she made the comment, it was one of the things she valued in both women.

"That is correct Captain, but I believe in this instance our needs would be better served by allowing them to explore other possibilities."

"So we just give up on the cloak?" Chakotay was incredulous, all their plans so far had hinged on the thought of having the cloak up and working.

"Maybe not," Janeway said, thinking this could be the ideal time to separate the two suddenly close women, without compromising Voyager's safety. "I could leave Seven to work on the cloak, freeing up B'Elanna to work on other ideas."

"It would perhaps be more beneficial to leave the assigning of tasks to Lieutenant Torres," Tuvok suggested, "she is in a better position to evaluate her teams capabilities."

Janeway thought about disagreeing with her friend, as captain she was accustomed to the assigning of crew members, but B'Elanna was chief of engineering and as such she would know better than Kathryn the ideal people for different tasks. Her desire to put distance between Seven and the half klingon not enough to over ride her duty to her ship and crew. "Fine, I'll give them until the end of duty shift today to come up with something concrete on the cloak, then if nothing promising has developed they can start to look into other possibilities."

That decided the conversation moved on to other aspects of the situation. Looking less than happy Chakotay brought up the subject of Tom Paris' training program. "It seems to be going well."

"The selection of participants has been logically decided," praised Tuvok in his traditionally emotionless tone, if the man had been accustomed to expressing emotion it would at that time have been one of slight wonder and disbelief. Tom Paris was not someone Tuvok associated with logical or well thought out ideas, "but the tactical scenarios involving the Delta Flyer are however less than ideal." His tone now hinting at impatience.

"What seems to be the problem?" asked Janeway.

"Mr Paris' scenarios seem to revolve around high risk manoeuvres, with little or no room for error," explained Tuvok.

"If it looks too easy Tom thinks he's doing something wrong," contributed Chakotay.

"I'm sure Mr Paris can develop a suitable plan," Kathryn defended, her closeness to Admiral Paris having extended a shield of protection around his son, but even she was not blind to the man's devil may care attitude, "I think it would also be a good idea for you to submit an alternative plan of action," she addressed to Tuvok.

"Yes Captain."

Seven looked up at the sound of muttered curses coming from inside the access port, even with her borg assisted hearing she couldn't make out all of what was being said through the thick hull plating, but enough to know that the chief engineer questioned the parentage of the relay circuits. But before she could begin to analyse the human, and now it appeared half human, need to assign sentient behavioural patterns and relationships to inanimate objects, her thoughts were interrupted by the bang of the access hatch being kicked open, followed closely by an emerging B'Elanna Torres. The sight of the engineer crawling out backward from the hatch had an unsettling effect on Seven, she found her eyes drawn to the emerging form, while having to make a concerted effort not to reach out and grasp B'Elanna's hips with the intention of providing assistance, assistance that she knew was not required.

"Is there a problem Lieutenant?" Seven asked once B'Elanna had fully emerged from the hatch.

"Oh no why would there be a problem?" Stormed the now irate engineer, "we only have to redesign and implement a total system change in days, while working with defective equipment." At this she threw a small torch like object onto the cart at her side, the banging noise causing a few heads to turn.

"I see." And Seven did, the obvious failure of the isometric ratchet, which had been the third such failure in the last hour, was annoying, added to that was a day of computer simulations that didn't work and hardware that was too inflexible for their ideas. Seven herself had considered throwing something at one stage, but on analysing her impulse was unsure why, as all it would have accomplished was a dented and possibly broken data pad. "I believe this would be a good time to end your duty shift Lieutenant." Seeing B'Elanna about to protest and loudly she added, "I too require a period of regeneration if I am to perform adequately tomorrow, and the doctor has already ordered us off duty."

"Twice."

"Yes, twice." Seven agreed, giving B'Elanna a conspiratorial smile.

"You're right." The tired engineer conceded, "and we'll need our wits intact for tomorrow's brainstorming session."

"Indeed."

After passing over their current assignments the two women left engineering together. Seven had been waiting until they were off duty to voice a question that had been bothering her since the incident in the mess-hall. "Lieutenant, is your relationship with Mr Paris terminated?" On her research into human mating rituals she had noted that the participants often made what seemed statements of finality, only to rescind them when tempers had cooled.

"Yes." The bluntness of the question producing an answer in a similar vain from B'Elanna.

"Good," was Seven's only reply.

B'Elanna watched Seven as unobtrusively as she could as they made their way down the corridor, after her last word a smile had briefly lit up Seven's face, a smile which the half klingon would very much like to see repeated.

"Why is it good Seven?" B'Elanna questioned in a soft voice.

The conversation was interrupted by their arrival at the turbolift, the subsequent journey being made with two officers from the Delta shift. On once again finding themselves alone B'Elanna reached out a hand to stop Seven's progress, her hand remaining in its now favourite position, wrapped around Seven's upper arm, even though she had stop. "I asked why is it good that Tom and I broke up?"

"I... " Seven found herself caught in B'Elanna's gaze, that and the feel of the warm hand around her arm, and the body so close to her was making it difficult for Seven to think. "I do not believe him to be a suitable mate for you."

B'Elanna took a tiny step closer to Seven. "Who do you think would be a suitable mate?" She purred, allowing her hand to slowly caress Seven's upper arm.

"I do not," Seven began, her face becoming flushed, and her heart rate increasing dramatically, "I have not considered all the variables, it.."

Seeing the normally cool Seven flustered in this way would have once made B'Elanna's day, but now she noticed the near panic in the other woman's eyes as she tried to explain herself, and she knew that now was not the time to push the other woman about her feelings. Reluctantly stepping back from the now blushing ex-borg, and releasing her grip from her arm B'Elanna smiled, "It's okay Seven, you don't have to answer that now." Seeing the relief flood Seven's face she couldn't help but add, "but I would like to have an answer someday."

Seven nodded her reply.

They continued walking towards their quarters in silence, but on reaching the junction that would separate them, B'Elanna found that she didn't want to part from the other woman.

"Would you like to come back to my quarters for a drink, or something?" The request sounding lame even to herself, but B'Elanna wasn't used to trying to entice beautiful former borg females back to her quarters. In truth all she wanted was the opportunity to talk with Seven and possibly try to understand the other woman. She knew from her recent attempt at flirting that Seven wasn't ready for anything more serious at the moment, but she also now knew, or hoped she did, that the younger woman was interested in her, an interest that was definitely mutual.

"You need your rest Lieutenant, as do I," was Seven's cool answer, but in a tentative voice she added, "perhaps on another occasion?"

"Yes, another time." This was a statement from the engineer, not merely a polite response, and Seven couldn't help but look forward to the day it finally happened.

"Goodnight Lieutenant."

"Goodnight Seven."

B'Elanna made her way to her quarters in a more positive mood than she had managed all day, even the problems of the cloaking device and the three enemy ships waiting to pounce couldn't lessen her feelings of joy. Suddenly possibilities she had never before considered were opening up before her, and she intended to make the most of them. As the doors to her home opened all B'Elanna wanted was a quick shower and to jump into bed, what she got was a dishevelled Tom Paris sitting on her couch, snoring.

"Tom!"

"Wha.." Blinking rapidly Tom tried to make out the figure in the still darkened room, "Lanna? Lights." The sudden illumination caused Paris to groan as his recently awakened eyes tried to handle the blinding glare. "Lights half."

"What are you doing here?" B'Elanna asked, her tone so far remaining calm.

"I thought we needed to talk about what happened this afternoon." Tom moved over to stand next to B'Elanna and prepared to lay what he thought of as a forgiving hand on her shoulder.

Side stepping his lunge B'Elanna pointed towards the door. "We've nothing to discuss Tom, it's over."

"Over? What do you mean? Come on Lanna, you know you don't mean that." With this the ensign's voice went into whine mode.

"I do mean it Tom, I'm sorry but it's over." Pointing again towards the door, and this time prepared to use force if he didn't get the hint B'Elanna asked as politely as she could, "now if you don't mind, Tom, I'm tired and would like to get some rest, if you want to talk about it tomorrow we can do it then, but I won't change my mind."

"You can't mean that."

All patience now evaporated B'Elanna gave Tom a shove towards the door, "I said out!" And once the man was safely on the other side she set about changing her door's security pass word.

Tom stood outside B'Elanna's door rubbing his arm, a vacant expression on his face, 'this can't be happening' he thought, 'she loved him, he knew she did.' Tom's feet started taking him in the direction of his own quarters, his mind still too shocked to offer an alternative destination. 'Didn't she know what a catch he was?' 'Plenty more fish in the sea.' 'I'll show her.' 'This must be a mistake.' Were all thoughts that jumped for attention in his mind, all coming together to form a plan, not only to get B'Elanna begging him to take her back, but to show the rest of the crew just how much of a catch he really was.

Part 5

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