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Listen to Your Heart
By KyaniteD


"I recommend you rest now, Lieutenant."

The doctor is a hologram. I was fascinated until he spoke his first word. Ever since my annoyance grew. His attitude drives me mad.

I am confused. I don't know where I am or who I am. He told me I am a Lieutenant aboard a starfleet vessel.
I am - I was - chief engineer. I look at my hands as if they were not mine but somebody elses'. I see the calluses and I think that it might be true. At least I seem to be used to work with my bare hands.

My head feels like it's filled with mercury and I decide that it would be best to do as the doc suggested. Though his harsh tone made it sound like an order. Anyway, I fall asleep.

The next time I awake, the headaches are back. Upon my initial groan I feel a light twinge at my neck and almost instantly the worst headaches leave and my vision is clear when I open my eyes. I see the doctor retreating to his office and my gaze shifts towards the hissing sound of the automatic door.

I am ... shocked. This can't be true, can it?
There are two angels looking at me and I can see the genuine concern in their blue eyes. Not the oceanic blue like in the eyes of the captain. No, this is a steel blue. Instantly I feel caught and captured.

The little one is a girl of maybe four or five years and her forehead has the same deformation as mine.
The doc told me that this is an indication of my being half... t-... f-... /k/lingon. What ever this means. He said Klingons are another humanoid race. I assume that I must be some kind of mutant or hybrid then. This child, however, has the same ridges, although they are not as dominant as mine are. Oh, she is so beautiful, with her blue eyes and the long blond tresses. She flashes a smile at me and I can't help but return it. A questioning look at the other angelic being that holds her hand doesn't last long enough for an answer. She releases the woman's hand and runs towards my bed and instinctively I open my arms to catch her in a hug. I feel that she must love me and I sense my love for her. I even dare to hope that she might be mine. My daughter.

I feel another pair of blue eyes upon me and the child. As I look up I see a faint smile on the beautiful face. I notice her hair, it is also blond, but tied in a tight bun. Her skin is much paler than mine or the child's and there are some strange metal objects attached to her face. My heart aches for her because this must hurt and for the one tiny moment that I hold her gaze I feel a connection between us. My heart stops for a second before it resumes a slightly faster rhythm. But it feels as if it were the rhythm to another melody. It seems that my heart starts to remember before my mind does. This must be my partner. I feel the love for her radiating from deep inside. I know it, in this instant. This is my daughter in my arms, and this is my mate watching us. This must be my family.

For the first time ever, since I can only remember these last days in the sickbay of this starship, I feel at home and I bathe in the warmth of this feeling... My soul rejoices.

"I love you." I whisper and I feel the child hugging me even tighter.

Obviously the woman did not hear my whisper for she gives a cold, almost machine-like explanation of her visit.

"... he asked me to look after Miral while he had to ... work. The doctor finally granted Miral's wish to see you so it was me who accompanied her."

I am confused. He? Who is 'he'? And Miral? - Miral.

"Miral?" I ask.

"Your daughter", she tells me and points at the child in my arms.

"Oh. Of course." I feel ... like an idiot. I lost my memory, not my brains. I should have figured.

"And what... I mean, /who/ were you referring to with ... 'he' ?" I feel even more stupid when I see the look in her eyes. It tells me that I should have figured that one, too.

"Tom Paris. Mirals Father. He and Samantha, another young mother, looked after Miral while you were ... indisposed."

Her words confuse me. I let go of the child and let myself drop back onto the bed.

"Lieutenant, shall I ..."

Her facial features seem to be frozen, but somehow I manage to detect the subtle change that indicates her concern. Her calling me by my rank doesn't sound right. Not at all. It puts a distance between us that pulls at my heart.

"I don't remember my rank or even being an officer. Please, call me by my name - call me B- B'Elanna."

"As you wish, - B'Elanna."

Oh this sounds so right coming from her lips. Strange and not one bit familiar, but right... Then it hits me. I don't know, who /she/ is ...

"Uhm, what- what's your name? Who are you...? Are we..."

"I am Seven of Nine. I am assigned to the astrometric department of this star ship. We are colleagues."

Suddenly I feel dizzy. Miral still stands beside me and holds my hand. Pure bliss is showing on her face. I try to hide my lack of focus so as not to alarm her. But how can such a beautiful woman...

"Your name consists of numbers?" I regret to have asked that question when I see shadows floating over her face and her effort to keep her rigid stance.

"This is my ... designation. My human name was Annika Hansen. I prefer to be called Seven as this is what I've been called most of my life."

I have a lot of questions, but her look dares me to ask them. So I don't.

"Ok. Seven." It's unusual, but I feel like it would be stranger to call her Annika. To her and me both, I suspect.
She said we'd be 'colleagues' ... But I feel my love for her, how can she say we are 'colleagues' ... ?

"Are we... I mean...," I feel unsure of how to ask. Or what to assume, " ... are we - friends?"
I feel like I'm being impaled by her questioning gaze. But then it softens, as if she remembers my current dilemma. She gathers herself and when she answers she reminds me of a teacher. Which is strange, because I don't remember any teachers.

"Hardly." She says in a quite cold and impersonal tone. "We are colleagues aboard this vessel. In our private lives we are merely acquaintances. Our personalities are incompatible. Our encounters are dominated by arguments and misunderstandings. Therefore they are to be avoided."

This time I don't see any emotions in her face or her body language at all. She stated facts. And she seems to be completely unaffected. A hot feeling rises from my belly - I think this is my short temper the doctor and the captain told and warned me about. I feel anger rising. I'm angry at her, her being unaffected, while I ...

"But I love you! I-I can feel it..." It's out before I realize it.

Two sets of blue eyes drenched in confusion look at me as if I'd lost my mind. Well, I had, had I not?


The Lieutenant is more irritating then ever before.
It seems that the doctor's medical report on her present condition did not include the effects the memory loss would have on her personality.

The Lieutenant and I are not friends. Although it is not hostile anymore our relationship still can be described as antagonistic. Because of that I had no intention to visit her in sickbay. But certain circumstances lead to the situation that I had to accompany Miral on her first visit with her mother.

I found this situation awkward. Since I did not know how to interact with the Lieutenant I decided to remain silent and wait until Miral was ready to go back to her father.

The Lieutenant tried to engage in conversation, though. She asked me to call her by her first name. I did comply in front of the child. Since the Lieutenant is not her usual self I thought it could 'do no harm'.

Miral's visit ended abruptly when the Lieutenant in apparent confusion declared her love for me.
The doctor then asked me and Miral to leave sickbay. I assume that he, too, was not aware of the intensity of her personality change and needed to run further tests.

B'El- The Lieutenant continued to ask for me during the following days. I refused to visit her. I failed to see any necessity for or any use in such action. I would not be able to help her. Since we were not friends I deemed it a waste of time. Mine as well as hers.

Commander Chakotay, Tuvok and the Doctor tried to persuade me to give in to B'El- the Lieutenants wish to see me. The captain threatened to give me another lecture in english poetry of the 18th century. I am confident that she merely meant to emphasize how important it was to her that I visited B'Elanna. The Lieutenant.

Although threats are futile and irrelevant I finally gave in.

Miral had witnessed her Mother's declaration of love for me. To my surprise she seemed to be positively affected by this. Although I tried to explain her mother's condition to her, she did not falter in her belief that her mother truly feels this way towards me. Her arguing included that I am her friend, too. She did not understand why I would not be friends with her mother.

Since my experience with Naomi Wildman the ship's crew trusted me with their offspring. I am asked to look after their children on a regular basis. I became Miral's 'babysitter' during the time of the Torres-Paris break up.
I did not volunteer nor did Miral's parents ask me to. Naomi brought her littler friend to me and asked me to be her friend too, like I was hers when she was younger. I complied.

And now my friend asked me to visit her mother. Again I did comply.

B'Elanna has been informed by the captain and the doctor about the relations aboard Voyager. I notice that she still struggles to keep all the facts in memory and order.

The captain asked me to re-introduce B'Elanna to the life on a star ship. My task would be to teach her the use of the technical devices like turbo lifts, replicators, sonic showers, the recycler and re-familiarize her with the ship's decks and site plan.

B'Elanna never again mentioned her feelings for me. I had discarded the statement as invalid because of her condition.

I asked her why she wanted me to accompany her during the process of re-learning the basic knowledge and skills. She told me that she felt safe in my presence. That she trusted me. I have heard that before. From Naomi and Miral.

The captain approved of Tuvoks suggestion that I move in with B'Elanna and Miral as long as B'Elanna might need help in her daily routine.

Officially B'Elanna is still the Chief Engineer. But since she does not remember anything the captain put her on indefinite medical leave.

I am allowed to schedule my time as I deem it necessary and efficient. I decided to supervise the works in Astrometry and Engineering equally. B'Elanna follows me everywhere. I noticed that she is very eager to learn. She is very interested and inquires a lot. I am endeavoured to answer all her questions, but sometimes I find myself not able to give her an appropriate explanation.
I also find that this affects me.
It affected me always. But it is different now.
With the Lieutenant, the Chief Engineer, I felt inferior when I had no answer.
With B'Elanna I feel a virtual pain when I cannot help her.
This is my friend. And she relies on me.


I'm overflowing with emotions.
I believe I would burst wouldn't it be for the Vulcan's, T'Vok ?, sessions. The first thing I noticed about him were his funny ears. But considering my impressive forehead I should be careful in choosing the object of my jokes. He helps me to reflect on the the events of each day. I appreciate it. And I think I like him. I feel he understands me, though he doesn't show any emotions himself.

Each day she takes me by the hand and leads me through my day. And I sense my love for her growing with every single one of these days. She is very supportive and understanding and patient. She is so very different from the rest, especially those who call themselves my friends.They are searching for the Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres they knew. The one they remember. The one I don't remember. Their eagerness to trigger my memory is tiring. And I can't stand the compassion or even pity in their eyes.

Seven takes me every day to the mess hall to give me the opportunity to engage in conversation and small talk, to socialize with the crew. But she never urges me, never presses me. I'm thankful for that. I made it a habit to enter behind her, partly hiding my smaller frame behind her back. She never says anything, but I think she noticed. When we sit with others she answers questions and sometimes converses with some of her acquaintances. Although her focus seems to be elsewhere I can feel her eyes on me. She watches me, carefully, subtly. She watches over me. She protects me.

I feel a natural pride in me. It's strong and powerful, as every emotion I experience. My body may be small, but it's very strong, muscular - athletic.
I enjoy every movement.

Seven carefully introduced me to the idea of catching up with my past. She suggested to start with background information of who I am. She imbedded it in lessons about klingon and human culture and history for the children. I liked her way to teach the children about uniqueness, identity, individuality and respect. In fact, I was amazed.

I started my own research about Klingons and Humans. I am a warrior. Well, I should be. But at least I feel like a warrior. Most of the time. I understand the pride I feel and the need for honour and my...

Again I see her face. Her smiles are rare and I feel truly honoured when she bestowes one of them on me. I know I love her. But she thinks I'm not being true.

How could I ever blame her? I heard her story. I learn about our history. When I read my daily pile of personal log entries I feel the bile rise. What an idiot I've been. P'taq. How could I treat her so bad, so utterly without honour and respect? This angelic being. She knows of so much hurt and pain. I don't want her to lose her memory. But I pray that I get a chance to make her forget.

Sometimes I wonder how she finds the strength to carry on, day after day. To think I've added to her misery... I understand why she doesn't believe me. And I feel something else growing inside of me. An icy hand that rises and slowly reaches for my heart. It's fear.

I stand in the doorway and watch them sleep. Seven is lying on Mirals bed, her long legs stretched out, her head resting on the head board. A book lies on her lap. From what I learned about my daughter it's an old book about King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. My daughter snuggled against Seven's side is a picture of utter peace. With a smile I remember how I thought Miral would be our daughter, she certainly has the looks. I wish she was. As I watch them the feeling of home returns. My heart swells with love for my two angels... Tears are gathering in my eyes when I feel the icy hand again, approaching my heart. A sniff that escapes me when I try to wipe the tears from my eyes awakes Seven. I didn't mean to wake her. I didn't want her to see me cry. I recognize the look in her eyes. I have seen it a lot in the past few weeks. It's a look of concern, clouded by a tinge of guilt.

I turn away from her to leave for my own bedroom. I didn't expect her to be so fast, though. She catches me in the middle of the living room. Her human hand settles on my shoulder, gently urging me to turn around. I do as requested, but still I refuse to look at her. With her human hand still holding me in place she lifts my chin with two of her metal adorned fingers. Ultimately I'm forced to meet her gaze. I feel her eyes tenderly probing and searching my soul.

"BangwI', I'm here. Please find me." I hear myself whispering.

All of a sudden she pulls me into a tight embrace, willingly I let my face be burried in her bosom. The grip tightens and I feel the ice again. And now I know that she feels it too. I try to hug her back but it seems that all my strength has vanished and all I'm capable of are body shaking sobs and a weak, muffled, pathetic plea:

"Seven, please... please believe me. Believe in me... in us..."


For the second time in my life I see myself confronted with the futility of resistance.

For the first time in my life I believe.
I believe her, when she tells me that she loves me.
I believe, that I return her feelings.

I want to believe in our friendship, in our love.

But it is also for the second time in my life that I am scared to death.
I fear for my life, for my - family.
Those who love me.

Those I love.

B'Elanna has lost her memory. But still her klingon nature allows her to experience strong emotions. I stated that it is time for her to find out about her former self in order to get to know the individual that she was. She is very pleased with what she learned about klingon culture, although the cuisine did not meet her approval. She recently started to run Lieutenant Torres' exercise programs on the holodeck. It appears that her body remembers the Bat'leth and from the beginning her movements were very smooth and ... skilled.

I was also able to convince her to study the personal logs of her former self. For some reason it did not surprise me that this lecture disturbed her.It is obvious that she does not like the person she was. The doctor believes that her constant resistance and ... plain ... refusal to remember reinforces the block on her memories.

However, I tend to disagree.

B'Elanna does start to remember.

I can see it in her eyes. And I hear it when she speaks. Her speech pattern and her vocabulary slowly transform to those of Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres. A clear evidence are the klingon terms, mostly swear words and curses. She utilizes them unconsciously like Lieutenant Torres used to. They are not directed at me but the increasing frequency of their use worries me.

I believe I am afraid.

I am afraid, that Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres, Chief Engineer of the starship Voyager, eventually returns.

I don't want to lose B'Elanna. She seems to be content and at peace with who she is now. And Miral is happy, too. I don't want to lose my family.

But Voyager's crew is my collective.

And this collective needs its chief engineer.

A volatile, short tempered, mysterious, agitated, brilliant half klingon chief engineer.

And I wonder, how selfish I really am.

She calls me BangwI' - Beloved.
I feel a sharp pain in my chest, although I know that I am physically unharmed. Her tears soak through the fabric of my biosuit. She pleads with me. I want to tell her how I feel. I want to tell her how much I love her. How much I love Miral. And how much I wish for us to be a real family.

"B'Elanna, believe me, I want to. But I am afraid..." Then I loosen my hold on her.


"B'Elanna, believe me, I want to. But I am afraid..."


The little world I created for myself during the past weeks - crushed in one moment. I feel more alone then ever before. Her body stiffens and then her arms leave me. The warmth that cradled me like a child only seconds ago evaporates as she pulls away.

The icy claws grip my heart...

Suddenly my head is being held by both her hands and again I'm forced to look at her. I close my eyes. I don't want to look at her. I don't want to see her eyes. I don't want to...

An electric shock pulls me from my self-pity when I feel her lips softly brushing against mine. The movement is hesitant and the contact barely noticeable.

I don't know what to do or think. Is this meant to be a goodbye kiss... ?

My brain proves to be useless at the massive sensory overload and since my heart is that of a warrior and never to run from a battle I open up to the contact. My parting lips is all the invitation she needs. Her tongue darts out on a mission to enter, taste and claim. I let her explore for a moment or two before I start to respond. This first kiss could be the last and I don't want to miss anything. I know she feels the same when she increases the pressure, and I know that this is the seal to our fate as I taste blood. In one bloody violent, lip bruising kiss she conveys what she feels ... and finally what she is afraid of.

My head is spinning and I don't know if it is the lack of oxygen or the burning jolt of ... need ... that explodes in my veins.

Pictures float my mind, and snatches of conversation.

~ ~ ~ ~

"Why can't we be a family anymore...?"

"This is not my daughter!"

"Tom, ..."


"... Miral, she will be here soon..."

"Where is Daddy...?"


"Tom, you can't do that..."

"She can go play with Naomi and Seven..."

"We don't play with barbarians..."

"B'Elanna eats earthworms... hehehehehe"

"I saw that coming. I never understood what he saw in her..."

He left me. He left me. He left. He left.

"How many walls did you break down with that head of yours...?"

"Such beauty... if it weren't for her klingon mother..."

~ ~ ~ ~

Seven must have sensed my distress for she breaks the kiss. Greedily I fill my lungs and for a moment the fog lifts from my inner vision.

With my eyes still closed I watch the scene unfolding in slow motion.

How Seven enters my office in engineering, how she greets me formally and stony faced. How she shifts her gaze and smiles when Miral runs towards her. I feel the jealousy I felt when they left my office holding hands like friends, and just as I did back then I'm strangely wondering whom I'm jealous of...

Then I see two crewmen passing in front of my office and I am about to return to my calculations when I overhear their conversation...

"... irony of fate..."

" Huh?"

" That woman and the child..."

" What about them...?"

" So much wasted beauty..."

" Yeah, it's a pity that such a sexy bombshell is so cold and unattainable..."

"And the child could be the prettiest I've ever seen if it weren't for that klingon forehead..."

"Wonder what she'd look like if her borg friend would be her mother?"

" Hehe, yeah. But you know that's impossible. Who would want to bed that Borg and have a child with her? "

" True..."

I feel anger rising, pure klingon rage boils up my blood and in a swift move I turn around again to go after them. The angular momentum is too high for my body to manage and the following forward movement comes to a sudden halt when my head connects with the doorframe. A black curtain falls and my vision goes blank before I can even hear a thud or feel any pain...

I wake up and find myself lying on my couch, in my living room. A hand gently strokes my cheek. Despite the mean headache that awakes with me I pry my eyes open. Seven kneels beside me on the floor, holding my hand close to her chest. My blood reheats at this sight. Before I can collect myself and try to process what happened I am the verge of bursting.


I did it.

I took my chance.

I was aware of the consequences.

But I was not prepared.

Because her amnesia was most likely caused by an emotional trauma I knew that the chances to ... 'bring her back' - as Kathryn put it - , never had been better than tonight.

She called out to me from behind the barrier. Never was she so close.

And never were we so close.
This was my chance to break through the block by pushing her over the edge. And to tell her how I feel at the same time.

My medical research indicated a high probability that she would lose consciousness if the memory returned suddenly and all at once.

I watched her intently to not miss the right moment. I watched her reliving scenes from her memory. The pain that was evident on her face was also present in my chest.

When she finally lost consciousness and all her muscles relaxed she seemed so vulnerable. But her unmoving body also radiated ... strength.

I caught her easily and bedded her down on the couch in her quarters, but if she does not wake up soon I will have to transport her to sickbay.

I am worried. I am sure that she will wake up. But I don't know what to expect once she does.

I look at her peaceful face. I hold her hand to my heart and let the fingers of my other hand travel over her flushed cheek. The colour of her lips is a deep red. I hope that I will never lose the precious memory of that kiss.

She stirs and groans softly before she opens her eyes. My heart stops.

I am unsure as to what to do. I want to look away, break all contact, stand up and call to sickbay.

Momentarily I lose control over my motor functions. I know that I have been called icy. Now I am truly frozen.

Her eyes are dilated and glassy. Like they had been so often, back then, in engineering, when she was furious.

Her hand unwinds from my grasp. She pulls it away as if to strike out. In this moment I am sure that I had payed the full price.


It's a hoarse whisper and I am unable to determine an underlying emotion.

But her hand, the one I held tightly only moments ago, approaches my head and...
...cups my cheek.
I am... confused.
Did she not... ?

" *Seven*... ?"

"B-B'Elanna?" Omega, what have I done?

"Seven, what are you doing ... ?" She touches her lips and now I'm sure she still tastes the blood.

"B'Elanna, I ... " I'm not sure what to tell her. I am not sorry. I believe I love her, but still I don't know...

"Why? Seven, *why* ? - Oooh... uhh, this head is gonna kill me... " She closes her eyes. I sense her absence, the - /my/ loss.

"I hope not." My voice almost fails me. "I apologize. I should have transferred you to sickbay immediately."

The movement that is meant to activate the communicator equals the attempt to re-settle my heart beat.

"Seven of Nine to sickbay. Prepare for incomming patient."

"Seven? What happened, who is the patient... ?" The doctor annoys me. But I find myself relieved to have the opportunity to defer the inevitable conversation with B'El- the Lieutenant.

"Doctor. The patient is Lieutenant Torres. Seven out."

Despite all preparation and research I will need some time to... adapt.

"Computer, site-to-site transport to sickbay. Lock on to..."

"Computer - belay that order..."

The harsh tone tells me more then I wish to know in this moment. For the benefit of my continued existence I take a deep breath even as my heart stops.

what's love but a word
what's your name but a word
what's my world but two words


"Seven. Uhm, will you come with me... -please?"

I have to be strong and remind myself that this is not ... my ... B'Elanna.

Then I look at her. And I see her eyes.

Still ...

"Computer, site to site transport... two to sickbay."





"Ah, Lieutenant Torres..."


I open my eyes and see the one enemy of mine that I can't defeat with a Bat'leth.

"Lieutenant how are you today?"

I close my eyes again and manage a groan that even in my own ears only fairly sounds like a weak: "...head...ache...sssss".

My, what happened?

He drugs me and immediately I feel better. I don't say so and I keep my eyes closed. I'm not ino his self-praise right now. Isn't a self-absorbed beam of light a paradox, anyway? My lips are burning as I try to smile. Oh no. This wasn't real, was it?

"Where is she?" I have to know.


Oh yes. Please, let this all have been a dream. I'm outta here in no time after the doc prescribed me something against these headaches. And then I'll hunt these bastards down, who dared to insult my daughter and...

"I am here, Lieutenant."

There she is. What's that look in her eyes? Oh no. This can't be true, can it? No. No. No. How in hell could this ever happen...?

I mean...

"Is it true?"


Hm. maybe not.

"Seven, how did I get here?"

She looks... confused? Oh my. No good sign at all.

"Lietenant, you were transported to sickbay after..."

"Seven cut it. From /where/ was I transported?"

"From your quarters."

Shit. Then... I touch my lips. And my body remembers. This was no dream. But it can't be true. No. Never. I would /never/ survive this. The embarrassment. The weakness I showed her. My innermost thoughts and feelings...
Kahless, I feel so exposed. Not at all like a fearless warrior. Where is a targ's earth-hole when you need it? Wouldn't it be for my being half-klingon I bet I'd be burning up into a deep red now.

I notice how my fingers unconsciously trace my lips back and forth.


"Lieutenant, I-I assure you, that I - we -..."

Ok. Apparently she doesn't feel any better. But somehow this knowledge doesn't offer satisfaction like it used to. I hear myself interrupting her fiddling, "You didn't call me that for the last 7 weeks..."

"B'Elanna?" Oh this is hilarious. For once her mouth was faster then her superior brain could rein in.

And now... oooooh these eyes. Boy, am I glad I'm already lying on this bed. Son of a targ, how does she do that? Why did I never notice? So long, so long I've been wondering, if she would ever, ever be able to look like that... ... at me. And now that she does,... - my was I blind!
I thought I'd be protecting my heart by fighting her off and out of my personal space. How much effort did I put into the attempt to keep my true heart buried under bad temper... And now here she stands, all vulnerable and uncertain, straining to keep the iron control over her body so it wouldn't betray any of her emotions.

She still looks at me.
What does she expect? What does she want?

"Seven, I'm sorry."

Hah, greater, still.


Poor Seven. But I don't know what she wants me to say. Was it real? I mean, I know now that it was real, but was it true...?
Was she being true? Wait, she wanted to assure me, that...
Can it be? Did she all this only to bring me, my memory, back? Was it mere business for her? Another assignment? The task of the day? Nothing but helping a fellow crewmember? Returning a valuable lost sheep to its herd? Keeping the collective together and at peak efficiency?

Noooooooooooh. Her tone... it was so... emotionless. There are tears in her eyes. They don't fall. But I see them. Gods, she must hurt. I make the decision to take my chance here and now. I motion for her to come closer and reluctantly she obeys. I take her borg-enhanced hand and stare at the dull metal, suddenly feeling the urge to touch it. Softly stroking the back of this strong hand, I take my chance.

"Oh Seven, I'm so sorry. Can you ever forgive me? I made this so hard or you, for us. But you are so strong and so patient and... Seven you know so much about me, you found me, finally, and my true heart - against all odds. Honour demands that I offer you an appropriate finder's reward and I can only think of one..."

She tenses but I keep my hold on her. She looks at me in wonder. I turn her hand and place a kiss on her palm before I place it on my chest.

"Please Seven, I want you to have them both. One for my life and one for my love..."


I wait.

Nothing yet.

After three seconds she pulls her hand away.

I'm dying.

She takes me with her.

I'm dead. I'm sure. Any minute I will feel the hole she ripped into my chest.

The last thing I'll see is sickbay. Great. Of all places to die at.

I need to see her and turn my head at her.

With bother hand she wipes the tears from her face.

I never knew she could cry like that. Great, Klingon. You made her miserable again. Already back to business as usual, eh?
But then, from under the silent sobs she speaks up, barely audible,

"B'Elanna, I assure you, I..."

We had that line already, remember?
So she simply continues where I interrupted her... all the gut spilling for nothing? I need my earth-hole. Quick.

"... I will keep them safe, I'll have both my eyes on them, never again shall they be lost. Never again shall /you/ be lost, B- BangwI. Not ever again will I lose you."

I can't help it. I want to reassure her with a gentle smile, but all I'm capable of is a toothy grin. I pull her down to first hug her and then give her a soul-searing kiss.

My mind goes blank.
This moment is for hearts only.

When she breaks off for air my fuzzy brain allows me to voice the first thought I have.

"Pretty sure of yourself, eh?"

The heat from my blush wanders southward when she gives me a knowing smile.

The End

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