DISCLAIMER: Star Trek Voyager and all its characters are the property of Paramount. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written for archie-319 for helpthesouth. Thanks to Ann for the beta.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
FEEDBACK: To ralst31[at]yahoo.co.uk

Quiet Chats
By ralst


The first time Seven of Nine copulated it was a hurried affair that left her bemused as to the popularity of the activity. She acknowledged that prior to medical advancements it had been necessary to ensure a new generation, but beyond that strictly biological need, she failed to see why it so dominated the histories of the various bipedal species aboard Voyager.

"It fails to provide adequate physical exercise to be of cardiac benefit," she expostulated to a stricken looking Janeway, "and appears to render at least fifty percent of the participants incapable of articulation." She paused. "Is there a religious element to which I am unaware?"

The Captain's head nodded and shook in a manner that could imply almost anything, but could be most accurately translated as 'Help!'.

"Commander Chakotay invoked the name 'Jesus' three times during our brief encounter and mentioned 'God' on fourteen occasions before he completed his minimal involvement in the act." Seven had paid scant attention to the Commander's comments regarding his religious beliefs during their acquaintance but thought his choice of references somewhat odd. "Was the utterance of such inanities pivotal to my understanding of the act?"

Janeway's head did the 'Help!' movement once more as she slumped down into her seat and prayed for a Hirogen or even Borg attack.

"Would a mere repetition of the names of deities be sufficient to achieve the bliss the Commander appeared to experience or would I actually have to believe in it, too?" Seven's desire to expand her knowledge and gain a firmer grasp of human interactions might have led her to bed the Commander, but believing in some omnipotent super-being with a sick sense of humour and none of Q's charm was a step too far. "Celibacy would, perhaps, be a more prudent choice."

The 'Help!' signal changed into one of 'Hell yes!' as Janeway nodded vigorously at that suggestion; she may have wanted to guide Seven in her attempts (forced, some might say, by the captain herself) to regain her humanity, but that did not extend as far as listening to tales of passionless encounters with her first officer.

Relief coloured Seven's voice as she said, "Yes, Captain, I believe you are correct."

The first time Seven of Nine experienced an orgasm, it was a hurried affair that left her breathless and confused. For the first time she had gained some insight into the popularity of carnal desires, but she failed to see the connection between the physical activity and the notion of love and commitment.

"It is an activity I wish to repeat," she explained to a squirming Janeway, "and often, but it failed to invoke any desire to spout poetic drivel or declare my undying love." She paused. "Is the utterance of such sentiments compulsory after achieving sexual release?"

The Captain nodded her head as she took a gulp of her coffee and mumbled an incoherent 'No' into the depths of the cup.

"Lieutenant Torres also achieved orgasm but the only term of endearment she used was 'Ice Princess' and my research indicates that the name is not so much a declaration of affection as an insult." B'Elanna had seemed angry at her body's betrayal and had departed her office the moment her hearts had stopped galloping out of control. "Should I have insulted her in return?"

Coffee sloshed over the side of the cup as Janeway shook her head and tried to disappear.

Seven was very happy with her latest foray into the world of humanity and foresaw the need for much more research on the matter. "Lieutenant Torres is quite proficient at invoking an orgasm in a human female, and as such, I feel she would make the perfect research partner, but would limiting my experience of orgasms to those created by the lieutenant be scientifically biased?"

Having to endure talk of Seven and B'Elanna's sexual exploits was excruciating for Janeway, but the idea of having to listen to the tales of Seven and the entire crew of Voyager re-enact the Karma Sutra filled Kathryn with suicidal tendencies. "No!"

The first time Seven of Nine made love it was a languid affair that left a smile on her face and words of foreign meaning dancing on her tongue. She had finally acquired insight into the humanoid infatuation with love and sex and kisses that seemed to last for days, but she was still uncertain as to how to act on her new-found insight.

"I appear to have fallen in love with Lieutenant Torres," she mused, "but how do I know if the lieutenant reciprocates those feelings? Or, indeed, if reciprocation is necessary to my current state of infatuation?"

The idea of a Seven of Nine struggling with unrequited love was enough to make Janeway wish she hadn't signed up for A.A. after their last little tête-à-tête about sexual positions and the use of role-play to enhance sexual fantasy.

"If Lieutenant Torres does not love me, and I have no evidence beyond our physical compatibility and multiple shared orgasms to assume she does, should my feelings compel me to end our arrangement?" The mere thought caused a pain to radiate from Seven's chest and an irrational anger to build within. "This is all your fault!" she accused Janeway, "If you hadn't insisted that I rediscover my humanity, I wouldn't have fallen in love with B'Elanna and my cardiovascular system would not have been compromised."

Janeway sighed and began to rack her brain for a suitable platitude to both calm Seven's fears and prompt her to leave Kathryn's ready room and never return.

"Should I tell her?" Seven interrupted, the possibility of heartache momentarily banished by the re-emergence of hope. "That I love her," she added, having come to the conclusion that her captain was somewhat slow of whit that morning.

It was an easy decision for Janeway's tired head muscles to make and, with nary a thought of the hidden bottle of vodka in her desk drawer, she nodded.

The last time Seven of Nine had a private conversation with her captain about sex, love and orgasms, she was accompanied by a katana wielding chief engineer. Their visit was brief and to the point.

"Stay out of my love life," B'Elanna growled, the katana ripping through the air and adding extra weight to her already menacing form. "No more quiet chats or inquiries about our sex life." The katana swung dangerous over the top of Janeway's head. "No more talk about orgasms." A spray of white feathers issued from the couch where the katana had impaled the harmless piece of furniture three millimetres to the right of Janeway's thigh. "And never, ever mention the soon to be deceased Commander Chakotay in my presence!" B'Elanna took a step closer to her trembling captain. "Is that understood?"

Desperate to keep her head, Janeway could only nod.

The End

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