By Cirroco DeSade
She was sick and tired of all this acting like a 'good little human' crap! What did it ever get her? Nothing, that's what. The kids she grew up around didn't treat her better when she tried to act 'more human'. Her father left her & her mother because of their Klingon genetics. At Starfleet Academy she was always getting written up for her temper and sent to counseling. She finally quit that before they could kick her out. She thought she had a good gig with the Maquis, but then she got flung over to the other side of the universe in a snotty piece of luck and landed in a tin can of a ship; a Starfleet ship full of humans, of course.
Now, that wasn't to say she was the only non-human. No, but she was still the only Klingon, even if she was just part Klingon. And they all seemed to want her to behave more like her human ancestors. That coffee addicted Captain could kick ass in a pinch and not even bother to take names, but no, B'Elanna was expected to act like a good little human, not indulge her Klingon temperament.
B'Elanna tried, really she did. She even married the helm jockey, simply because he was the most interesting of the available human men. He at least indulged in reckless behaviors that were a little wilder than the rest of the tame little tikka cats around her. However, she didn't take into account how she would feel when she would be restricted by human mores when it came to their marriage.
If this were a Klingon ship, she could've confronted him by now on a dozen issues. It was embarrassing enough when she figured out that he was indulging in holo-sex. So when she, rightfully, thumped him around their quarters and put him into line she was absolutely horrified to find she was expected to put up with it?! The Captain actually got mad at her, because she was 'needlessly violent.' It was mortifying that she would then have to get counseled by Commander "Talks-with-his-ancestors-while-high-on-tree-bark" Chakotay on the matter.
That's when she decided work would be best: lots and lots of lovely engineering. You can channel a lot of aggression while keeping a ship together; especially when the caffeinated queen decides to take the ship for a spin through the Delta Quadrant's nastiest neighborhoods. If life wasn't exactly perfect, at least she remained in control of this part of her existence; sort of.
Yet, this acting human crap had finally taken its last toll out on her tonight. Her husband, the helm-rat came home smelling of another woman. She had no proof, so she couldn't approach the Captain. Janeway would just take his side. Her Klingon genes screamed for revenge. He saw his death in her eyes and actually began to sweat and babble. One snarled command to shut the hell up and for once, he was a good little human and did. Standing there flexing her fists, she knew she was caught: A human ship, a human community, human mores, and human values.
Tipping her head back, she howled out her fury at the top of her lungs, ending on just one word. "Humans!" Tom actually trembled as she stomped to the door. As she passed him, he must have thought she was coming to get him because he threw his arms around his head in a pitiful pose of cowardice.
Storming down the corridors she thought furiously of her predicament. There was no escape, no refuge from community she lived in, unless she wanted to jump in an escape pod. Even then, she'd have to do some fancy programming, because Janeway would just come back for her. No, she wouldn't let her best engineer leave over the desire to escape humanity. She wandered into a nearby turbolift, intending to take it to a random deck and continue her ambulation.
Yet, when the door opened on the lift's next stop, the next passenger ready to embark, B'Elanna didn't leave. Instead she watched as Seven of Nine entered. Her gaze briefly took in B'Elanna's presence, a mere nod then she turned to stand beside her, no longer looking at the woman, probably assuming the engineer wouldn't speak to her anyway. They usually didn't speak socially.
B'Elanna inhaled deeply, the air holding a scent that had always intrigued her. This was the only person on board who understand the duality she suffered, shared in it in fact. This 'human' disdained her humanity and had no fear of showing it.
She didn't fear B'Elanna's moods, nor cower from her rages. She never backed down from anybody if thought she was right, not even the Captain on high. B'Elanna's pulse began to race. Did she dare? Why not? She was expected to live by their standards, their values. He was allowed to indulge in his desires. She had long stifled this one.
"Computer, halt lift," she announced crisply. The former Borg turned and looked at her, her eyebrow crawling up in a sign of question. "Does it ever get to you Seven? The hypocrisy of 'humanity?'"
The blonde tilted her head and B'Elanna could swear she saw the tiniest lift at the corner of her mouth. A Borg smile she guessed. "Daily, Lieutenant," Seven answered concisely. Nothing else came from the blonde, no more opinion volunteered. B'Elanna thought it odd that for once, she wanted Seven to talk, give her opinion and the blonde spoke only two words.
Suddenly, the irony of it all made her want to laugh and cry and shout all at once. Instead she chose to shake her head and snort. "Seven, you never fail to amaze me." This did seem to ruffle the former drone's feathers a bit and she blinked rapidly.
"Can I tell you a secret Seven?" B'Elanna asked, but didn't wait for a reply before she put a finger over Seven's lips. "Actually, it's more like I want to show you something; a secret feeling I've had for a while."
The blonde had no more begun to nod her head when B'Elanna had taken her face into gentle hands and begun drawing her down. Seven had no clue as to what hit her when suddenly the Klingon-Human hybrid was kissing her with every ounce of pent up passion and frustration. The brunette swallowed the younger woman's moans as she slowly and gently pushed the taller woman back against the wall of the lift. She was deliberate in how she placed her hip and was rewarded with a groan and the feeling of Seven's hips rising back off the wall to meet her.
Strong arms surrounded her. The blonde may not have started the kiss, but she was not an unwilling participant if B'Elanna had to interpret the near bone breaking embrace. One of her hands was buried in the now loose chignon, grasping the blonde hair while her other hand traced down the side of the other woman's face, then neck, feeling the throb of a runaway pulse pounding, calling at her.
When finally her own pulse roared so loudly in her ears she could no longer bear it, her lungs and hearts screaming for oxygen she pulled away from the delicious kiss dragging in the scent of her, thrilling in it like a feast for the starved.
She opened her eyes and focused on the woman in front of her. Seven had yet to open her eyes and was obviously still regaining her breath as well. When the blue eyes finally parted the azure was almost entirely missing they were so dilated. The hunger that B'Elanna saw reflected in them caused a growl to surface quite involuntarily. Deliberately she swallowed, gathering her words.
"You know," she started to speak, confounded that it still came out on a growl, "when these lifts get sent to the maintenance bays, the lights power down to minimum," she paused, "and of course, nobody uses them then."
Seven seemed to struggle with what seemed like a non sequitur, her hands restlessly digging into the muscular back of the woman still plastered up against her. B'Elanna saw it as her suggestion finally dawned on the Borg.
"Computer," Seven said clearly and commandingly. She was leaning towards B'Elanna again, her lips mere millimeters away. "Send this lift to Maintenance Bay Beta and designate as out of service for maintenance, authorization Seven of Nine alpha five two zeta."
As the lift began its journey, the two women took a moment to look into each other's eyes, each perhaps seeing possibilities were before there had been none. This time B'Elanna was sure she saw the corner of Seven's mouth lift in a smirk. Then the blonde leaned down and began to kiss her in a way she never remembered being kissed before and all B'Elanna could think was, 'whoa, fast learner!'
Much later that evening, B'Elanna returned to her quarters to find a terrified and repentant Tom. He had spent a lot of replicator rations putting together a fancy dinner, with candles and roses; there was even soft jazz in the background. He never admitted anything and she didn't bring anything up, which seemed to scare him even more.
Ultimately she found this new twist on their relationship more amusing than anything. A dutiful, if frightened, husband was much less annoying than a openly philandering one anyway. He didn't fool her; he still had his holo-affairs, but she no longer cared. He just didn't know that and she didn't plan on telling him. And if he never noticed that she had lunch with Seven occasionally now, and that she conducted a lot more of the turbolift maintenance herself than before she figured that was his own fault.
One afternoon while the two women dined and went over plans for a project that the two had been working on, the Captain approached the table.
"Ladies, I must say, I've noticed your recent efforts and I've been impressed," the older woman said. If B'Elanna found it a bit condescending, she wasn't letting on.
"Thank you, Captain," Seven answered politely. "I was recently researching Ancient Earth and found a fitting phrase. The Lieutenant has been assisting me with applying it to my situation."
"What would that be?" the redhead asked.
"When in Rome," Seven said, sharing a smirk with B'Elanna, "do as the Romans do."
The Captain, oblivious to the undercurrents at the table beamed, thinking she had finally succeeded in taming the former drone. "Just so! Well, carry on, ladies."
B'Elanna simply smiled and shook her head, thinking 'stupid humans'.
Return to Voyager T/7 Fiction
Return to Main Page