DISCLAIMER: Star Trek is the property of Paramount, this story depicts a loving/sexual relationship between women...okay, disclaimer done.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Feedback: T.J.

Okay..I'm gonna try this streaming challenge thing. I've set my watch and now all I have to do is write. How hard can that be right….Okay here we go.

Okay…maybe it's harder than I thought. You know you're wasting time right…just start writing. Shut up…I'm trying to concentrate here.

Alright already…..

This Cannot Be
By T.J.

I want her.

This cannot…this must not be.

She is volatile, often inefficient and I should not be feeling this way about her. I should be concentrating on my tasks and not concerning myself with matters of the heart. Yet if I am not careful she consumes my every thought.

The words of the Borg come back to haunt me in bitter refrain. 'Resistance is Futile.' Please, someone take this bitter cup from my lips. I cannot want her.

She does not want me.

When she is near me my efficiency is compromised. Even the hair on my arms is pulled toward her as if by some magnetic force of attraction that will not be denied. I feel every part of me pulled to her and it requires all of my willpower to fight against it.

I cannot want her.

I close my eyes when she is near and if I concentrate I can hear the beating of her twin hearts…it is a melody that pulls me, that soothes me, that enrages me, that enchants me. I hear it in my mind even when she is not near.

This must not be.

I bring into my mind the image of the Omega crystal and I concentrate on it, using its power to bring order back to the chaos of my mind.

I am Borg…I will adapt.

Her body is powerful, lithe in its movements. The unconscious strength and power she exudes draw me to her. Her mind is disordered and yet brilliant—a contradiction the Borg could never understand. But I am beginning to understand it all too well. When I am caught up in pull of the currents of her mind I feel…I FEEL!

Only she can make me feel this way. I feel it nowhere else. And yet it must not be. It will never be.

She does not want me.

I would be everything to her, as she is everything to me if only she would look beyond my Borg exterior and recognize the woman underneath. Only when I am near her am I a woman…only in her presence can I access those parts of me the Borg attempted to corrupt and distort. Only when I am with her can I hear my own heart beating—in time with hers.

This cannot be.

She does not look at me…she looks through me. I do not know how it is possible that she is unable to discern my feelings for her…I only know that she does not. She sees a drone when she sees me at all.

She is everything to me, and I would gladly sacrifice my own existance to ensure the continuation of hers. There is nothing she could ask of me that I would not willing give, and yet I know that she will never ask.

This cannot be.

This must not be.

I must not want her.

And yet I do.

I want her.

The End

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