DISCLAIMER: As per all my work not mine, no money whatsoever, just some writing fun and hopefully reading pleasure
.they are all.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Huh? Did I miss something?
Tossing the last of her completed padds further up the couch, Kathryn Janeway tipped her head back to rest on the top of the couch back, finally relieved that maybe, this shift was over. It wasn't that she didn't like her job, but sometimes...well, put it this way, it was a lot easier being Captain if you were in the Alpha Quadrant and you could discipline crewmen by either dropping them in the brig or shipping them off to another posting. In the Delta Quadrant though...well, it was just fortunate that she was a fan of community rehabilitation.
It wasn't anyone's fault, she thought with unusual determination, being normally eager to find who or what the trigger point was when it came to unravelling holodeck brawls, but this time, she genuinely didn't want to know, for fear that she might loose all sense of command composure, although whether the loss would be due to hysterics or hormones was another matter.
Before her surprisingly well structured and lucid inner monologue could continue, the ready room door chime sounded, saving her from that particular, un-Captain-like philosophical discussion.
"Seven! This is a surprise..."
"This is a bad time Captain, I will return..." declared Seven abruptly, her cortical node recording the flushed features and shallow breathing, as well as the near horizontal positioning of the Captain's torso, all of which suggested that the Captain was not intending to receive visitors at this late hour.
"Stay Seven...." instructed Kathryn kindly, gesturing towards the more upright chairs by her desk, which she knew Seven found more comfortable to sit in.
"You are in a state of disarray..." declared Seven, remaining rooted to the spot, noting now, as Kathryn gently shuffled upright, that the uniform tunic was open and pips had long been removed.
"You do know how to compliment a lady on her appearance..." retorted Kathryn dryly, amused at how bold Seven was being this evening, the ex-Borg's social skills and awareness now being sufficiently developed that Kathryn knew that Seven knew that Kathryn knew that Seven knew what she was doing.
"I am stating fact. You are in direct violation of 17 Starfleet Uniform protocols, although I find it makes you look..." Seven paused as she found the words in her mind which seemed best suited to the observations she found herself now noting about Kathryn Janeway, "...attractive, relaxed and..." there was another pause as Seven selected her final word, "...human."
"Attractive?" Kathryn missed the later compliments, including the strange one of being told by an ex-Borg that she looked human now her hair and uniform were messy, her brain stalled on the fact that this 6 foot plus, blonde with a body to die for which, despite all the Borg enhancements, the Doctor had proudly informed anyone who would listen, was all Annika Hansen and completely natural, was finding this exhausted Captain attractive?
"Indeed, I find you the most desireable humanoid on this vessel....as you find me the same," reported Seven confidently, finally placing her packages on Janeway's desk, leaving her hands free to rest behind her back where they were much more comfortable...and now crossed. It was a strange gesture, but one which Seven had learnt from Naomi, who had confidently informed the tall blonde that it was the only thing guaranteed to bring good luck, other than touching wood, which was not particularly easy to do in a duranium plated spaceship currently progressing at Warp.
"Huh?" Kathryn, now standing before her local friendly Borg, was confused, flattered but confused. How the hell had this conversation started, and why couldn't it have happened when she was better prepared for it, preferrably by her getting advanced notice with some sort of departmental report?
"You are not participating in this discussion as you normally would..." remarked Seven dejectedly, picking up on Kathryn's confusion. As delightful as it was having Seven calling her attractive, experience had taught Kathryn it was rather unpleasant having a pouting, depressed ex-Borg on her vessel, requiring some action by her, not least because, now she'd re-engaged her brain, she was actually eager to discover how this conversation had started and, more importantly, eager to see how it ended....
"I'm sorry Seven, you just surprised me by bringing up this topic for discussion..." Seeking to move to safer topics just for a moment whilst she got past her urge to grab Seven and make passionate love to her right there on the deck which, whilst spectacular, would probably be more sensible if it was tabled, at least until they'd discussed their mutual attraction and hopefully, mutual emotional attachment, Kathryn spotted the packages Seven had brought with her and decided to make small talk for a moment whilst she composed herself with the assistance of several large gulps of coffee. "...what's in the case Seven?"
"A trumpet." Seven delivered this piece of information her usual tone, just as Kathryn had taken a large mouthful of coffee, which was now dripping off Seven's chest.
"You have sprayed me with coffee. Is it unpalatable? I will check your replicator settings..."
"SEVEN!" Kathryn could bear this surrealness no longer.
"Why have you brought a trumpet to my ready room?"
"I had hoped you could explain it to me."
"Explain what to you?" asked Kathryn wearily, thoroughly regretting her 'grown-up' decision to make small talk rather than mad, passionate love with Seven.
"What 'Blowing my own trumpet' means. I have replicated a trumpet...."
"I now understand the phrase Kathryn..."
"Thought you might..."
"The trumpet is not literal..."
"No, it's not..."
"If I were to report my activities to Tom Paris, I would be 'blowing my own trumpet' would I not?"
"I will not do that to you Kathryn..."
"Thank you darling..."
"Although I do find the concept of producing tuneful melody from this metal tube configuration quite challenging and intriguing..."
"Do you find orgasms irrelevant darling?"
"Then please, darling, do not start learning to play the trumpet..."
Return to Voyager J/7 Fiction
Return to Main Page