by: Dacia
VOY J/7 PG
WARNING: This story contains some lesbian themes and/or content. If this doesn't jibe with your moral code or your country's laws maybe you should catch the next wave and surf on outta here. I won't be offended, I promise. *s*
DISCLAIMER: For the record: I'm not making any money off of this... don't sue. As well, I don't own these lovely ladies, and I never will. In fact, I don't really own anything in this story... most/all of it belongs to Paramount. All I did was rearrange a few words into a mildly creative order that I guarantee you will never ever see in a Trek script *sigh*.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: Praise to the Beta Reader, who patiently reiterated the fundamental difference between 'affect' and 'effect' to an unappreciative author.
SILLINESS: I could have easily designated this story as 'fluff', but I'm a firm believer in
democracy, so I'll let you decide for yourself.
Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager was in trouble, big trouble.
Pushing off a bulkhead, she launched herself into a dive-roll in a last ditch effort to avoid the disc streaking towards her. She let out a ragged breath, as the impact she was expecting wasn't realized. Then, without further pause, she pivoted on her heels and fired blindly where she hoped that the disc would be. Her gamble paid off, the disc beeped and shifted colour from blue to red, now spinning end over end. Her Astrometrics officer, Seven of Nine, late of the Borg Collective, could only watch with a mildly bemused look and absorb the impact, as she was a mere breath away from the projectile.
"Impact, Janeway. Point, Janeway. Match, Janeway." The computer droned impassively.
The Captain stood up from her crouch. A pleasant sense of accomplishment washed over her. It had been a close match; she'd worked especially hard for that last point. She wasn't sure where she'd gotten the energy for that final move.
Smiling, she approached her less enthusiastic partner. "You're getting too good at this." she said, massaging her cramped phaser hand.
The cool blonde's eye implant raised a fraction in dry contemplation, "Indeed, if I am 'too good', then why am I not winning?"
Janeway's smile grew, "I have a theory… that you're just humouring me."
If anything, Seven's expression grew more bland, but a glimmer of mischief kindled in her eyes. "Perhaps," was her response.
Janeway gave another delighted smile, before grabbing a towel off the wall. "Play again tomorrow?"
"I am scheduled to run a full maintenance scan on the Astrometrics' sensor array, I will not be available until 0200 hours."
"Oh." The lines around Janeway's mouth smoothed, and both women seemed somewhat subdued. "Well, we'll work it out. Another time?" She offered tentatively.
"Acceptable."
Seven took hold of a towel as well, though she hardly needed one. Her nanoprobes prevented her from sweating overly much, but Janeway noted that the technological wonders could not keep the blonde's hair from being in lovely disarray. The Captain found her eyes drawn to the few golden wisps that had escaped the strict confines of their customary bun, Seven looked like a goddess.
You're staring again, Katie. Her internal voice piped up, helping to shake her out of her trance. "I need a cold shower." She muttered under her breath.
"Inefficient." Seven remarked, her Borg enhanced hearing not having missed the soft utterance.
"I beg your pardon?" Janeway blinked, aware of a rising flame in her cheeks.
The younger woman continued undaunted, "There are only 22.4 minutes remaining before this morning's scheduled staff meeting. The sonic setting on your shower would make for a more judicious use of your time." She finished dryly.
Relieved that her companion was unaware of the traditional purpose of a 'cold shower', the Captain smiled and replied, "Ah, but it's much too early in the morning to have my teeth set on edge." She keyed in the command to 'end program', and the two women entered the corridor together.
"I was unaware of the shower's profound periodontal capabilities." Seven commented as they walked down a grey hallway towards the Turbolift. "Perhaps you require a higher frequency setting?" She offered with a raise of the implant above her eye.
Janeway lifted her right hand, preparing to lecture her friend on the finer points of an old-fashioned shower, or better yet a bath, when she noticed the sly look on her companion's face. Momentarily nonplussed, she suddenly realized she was being teased again. She fell back in step, "Maybe you're right. If I set the frequency high enough, I should be able to shake those pesky teeth right out." She stated casually, observing Seven's reaction, which consisted of a slight twitching of the corners of her mouth, a strong indication of amusement on the part of the former Borg.
Janeway grinned to herself, as they stopped in front of the Turbolift doors. "Well, I'll see you in 22.4 minutes."
"20.2 minutes… Captain." Seven corrected gently, before disappearing back down the corridor.
Janeway was left standing, slightly perplexed at Seven's playful banter, until the hiss of the Turbolift's doors shook her out of her silent contemplation. She entered the Turbolift, feeling a little light-headed from the intriguing exchange, but there was a song in her heart. She grinned in the empty lift, deciding it was going to be good day. "Deck Three."
Three hours later, the staff meeting was complete, and Janeway had already been in her ready room for an hour filing away the completed staff reports. She hoped that one day, someone at Starfleet Headquarters would get to read them, and possibly admire her attention to detail and adherence to protocol. Or maybe I'm just punishing myself for staring at Seven this morning in the holodeck, and at the meeting! I've got to stop doing that.
She groaned softly shaking her head in mild disbelief. But another aspect of her internal voice piped up, And why shouldn’t you stare, eh Katie? You’ve got one of the most aesthetically pleasing members of the human race on board your ship. Anyone with a pulse would take the opportunity afforded to her for visual stimulation of the most pleasant variety.
Janeway retreated from the implication, falling back on the party line, I’m her Captain; it is inappropriate for me to be ‘ogling’ a member of my crew.
Her little voice snorted in derision, Tell that to the rest of the crew, they don’t seem to object to a little Borg eye-candy, especially Harry Kim. You and I are going to have to have a chat one of these days, Katie m’dear.
She tried to ignore the voice, focusing on the reports in front of her, but lost her impetus a moment later.
"I hate paperwork." She muttered at the vacant room, reaching for the ever-present cup of coffee at her right hand. She sampled the still-warm beverage, enjoying its slightly bitter tinge as she rolled it across her tongue. A moment later, the hiss of the door to her ready room startled Janeway, but no more than the subsequent appearance of Seven of Nine.
The lithe, blonde Borg entered and took her customary stance, hands clasped behind her back, head held high with a slightly defiant jut to her chin, in front of the Captain's desk.
Janeway finished her sip of coffee, taking a quick moment to circumspectly admire the other woman's figure, displayed as it was, in a cobalt-blue catsuit.
"What can I do for you, Seven?"
The Borg paused, contemplating the question. Her head tilted slightly to the left before speaking, "Captain, may I make a personal inquiry?"
Janeway was caught with her coffee cup halfway to her mouth; it was always dangerous territory when the ex-drone expressed her curiosity. "Alright…" she answered cautiously, taking another long, fortifying pull of the dark liquid.
Seven forged ahead with her usual efficiency, "I have observed a correlation, and I require you to verify my findings."
Janeway raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself, "What correlation?"
"Between my presence and your predilection towards melodic sub-vocal emanations. I believe the practice is referred to as 'humming' in some species."
Janeway almost choked on her coffee.
Seven noted her reaction.
"Was I incorrect in my assumption, Captain? I would not have asked, but I have been unable to gain independent verification of my observations."
"You haven't?" Janeway managed to croak out, while her stomach's inertial dampeners went offline.
Her Astrometrics officer seemed almost oblivious to the strong effect her words were having on the Captain, as she replied impassively, "No. Ensign Paris was of negligible assistance."
"You talked to Tom?" Janeway was experiencing some difficulty in keeping her eyes in her head, due to the extreme pressure her poor, consternated brain was placing upon them.
"Yes, Lt. Kim was equally uninsightful. However, Lt. Torres…"
"B'Elanna knows about this?!" She squeaked through a constricted throat. Dismayed by the desperate tone of her voice, the Captain attempted to regain some of her composure then tried again, "I mean…." She cleared her throat, "B'Elanna knows about this?"
Seven regarded her evenly, "Yes, Lt. Torres is aware of the correlation."
Janeway blinked, "Since when?"
"I believe she became fully aware of the phenomenon during her Engineering update of last week's staff meeting. Indeed, Lt. Torres seemed most distracted during the crescendos."
"Crescendos?" Janeway gaped, not bothering to try and hold her jaw up anymore.
"Yes, she had difficulty completing her report. I believe you commented on her preoccupied state, Captain." Seven's eye implant hitched a notch in question.
Janeway vaguely remembered something to that effect having occurred, B'Elanna had blushed as bright red as her dusky, Klingon complexion allowed. The Captain had thought it an odd reaction to being mildly corrected.
Seeing that no answer was to be forthcoming, Seven added, "Perhaps she did not care for your choice of music. Although, "Ride of the Valkyries" is reminiscent of some Klingon opera."
Janeway groaned, this can't be happening to me, can it? "B'Elanna hates Klingon opera." She mumbled absently.
Seven nodded to herself, filing the information away for possible future reference. "The staff seemed to appreciate today's selection more." She remarked.
Janeway sighed in a defeatist manner, "Oh they did, did they?"
"Yes, Ensign Paris seemed especially enthralled by your choice of melody, although he denied having been so when I questioned him in the messhall. Indeed, he insisted that he did not notice anything at all during the entire course of the meeting, a statement I find highly improbable."
This gets better and better, "You said B'Elanna was aware of the…" She reluctantly corrected herself, "my humming."
"Yes, although she did not admit to the knowledge readily. It was only after I offered to submit a transfer of myself to Engineering to assist her personally, as payment for her candor, that she responded to my queries, and declined my offer as well."
"And what did she say?"
"Very little. She refused out-right to identify the song you were humming today, and the computer could not recognize it from the data I inputted. However, Lt. Torres did suggest that if I wanted to know what the musical selection was that I should 'get it from the horse's mouth'. When I pointed out that we have no living members of the equine species on board, she designated you as a suitable replacement."
Thanks B'Elanna.
"However, she did offer a 'hint'."
"Oh?" Janeway dreaded Seven's answer; she had a mild inkling as to what the tune might have been. She'd recently borrowed some of Tom Paris' audio files, including both jazz and big band selections from the mid-twenty-first century. One particular song had been lodged in her brain for days.
"She indicated that the song title was a synonym for the 'horizontal mambo'." The ex-Borg pinned Janeway with a searching blue stare, attempting to glean some knowledge from her visage. She must have found something in the Captain's expression to serve as a catalyst, as her hands unclasped from behind her back, and her eyes took on a faintly predatory look. The Captain felt her stomach leap into her throat, and suddenly, the space between her and Seven, bridged by her desk, seemed entirely too small.
"I queried the computer regarding this obvious colloquialism, and regarding what course of action to take when I received the results. The computer outlined several options, however, I am still uncertain as to how to proceed." Seven's voice lowered as she spoke. At the same time, the lithe blonde slid around the side the desk, and came to rest in front of Janeway, forcing the other woman to turn her face upwards to maintain eye contact.
Janeway felt as though she was being cornered, and gulped visibly, I think I've lost control of this conversation. She remarked internally. A sarcastic rejoinder followed promptly, I don't think you ever had control, Katie m'dear.
She stumbled over her response, "Maybe you should… just," She hesitated, stifling the urge to wet her lips. "… go with your first instinct, it's usually the correct one." Her voice was low and husky. Each word was drawn out of her separately as she quavered slightly in anticipation. Anticipation of what, she wasn't yet certain of.
Seven seemed to taste the Captain's words, weighing their validity, "Very well." She agreed succinctly, and slowly leaned down until there was only a breath between them. She wavered there a moment, her eyes shaded a dark blue, focussing entirely on Janeway; who had abruptly lost the ability to breath on her own. Fortunately for her, Seven did not pause long before closing the gap between them.
Oh my. Was her first and last thought for quite sometime, as Seven's lips descended on her own. She was aware only of the delicate, yet shattering sensation of Seven's touch. She was stunned by the power behind that tender, unpracticed caress, it seemed entirely possible that she would burst into flames. The blonde's silken lips moved over hers like liquid velvet, begging for a reaction, and Janeway couldn't help but give one. Her subsequent soft sigh was absorbed by the other woman's mouth, and the Captain felt a weight lift from her soul as she settled into the gentle exploration. But when Seven drew her up from her chair to mold her body to her own, their lips broke apart, and Janeway felt reality come crashing back down.
What am I doing?!
She pulled away from the enticing circle of Seven's arms.
"I can't do this." She whispered agonizingly, her hands gripped the desk behind her, grounding her in the real world; the one where she was The Captain, and Seven was her crewmember.
"You already have." Seven replied, a faint tinge of confusion colouring her words, as she dropped her empty arms to her sides.
The Captain raised her eyes to Seven's, which were a shade of blue painfully reminiscent of Earth's skies. She drank in the younger woman's flushed skin and shallow breath. Her hand was involuntarily drawn to the unruly strands of gold-spun hair which had escaped their confines, and she smoothed them down, pausing to cup the indescribably soft skin of Seven's cheek. Her eyes, the colour of twilight, melted into desire, and just as suddenly flared into panic.
What am I doing?! She drew her hand away as if burned.
"I can't do this, Seven." She repeated more emphatically, her mind in turmoil. She turned away, avoiding Seven to make her way around the desk.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have kissed you." She tore the apology from her throat, her eyes downcast.
"Irrelevant." Was the terse response she received.
Janeway's head shot up in surprise, "Excuse me?"
The cool, blonde Borg had returned, and was regarding her intently, "Your apologies are irrelevant. It was I, who kissed you." Seven paused, obviously working something through in her head, "However… you did exhibit a positive response to the interaction…"
Curiosity seeped into Seven's look, Janeway braced herself, "Captain, may I make a personal inquiry?"
Janeway froze, unable to answer. The ex-drone took her silence as an affirmation.
"Do you 'have feelings' for me?"
The Captain's world was rocked on its axis. She hurriedly found her voice, "Of course I have feelings for you, Seven. I'm your Captain. I care for your well-being, your…"
"Those are the not the feelings I was referring to." Seven interjected. The blonde straightened perceptibly, her expression was unreadable as she took in a deep breath, obviously preparing to deliver an Earth-shattering statement. She did not disappoint.
"Kathryn Janeway, I believe that you have romantic feelings for me. You exert an inordinate amount of time and effort to guard my well-being as opposed to the remainder of the crew. You rearrange your schedule in order that we may spend more off-duty time together. You also indicate that you value my opinions highly."
"All those things could just as easily be attributed to our friendship…" Janeway started feebly.
Seven ignored her protest, "You also exhibit obvious signs of sexual attraction, your pupils dilate when you are alerted to my presence, your respiration rate increases as well, and you frequently touch me during the course of our conversations." Seven's professional veneer faltered mildly on her next question, and her voice held an almost imperceptible quaver, "Do you… love me?"
Janeway did not answer immediately, painfully aware that no matter what her response was, it would have a profound effect on both of them. But, she had never been one to back away from a challenge, so she searched her heart. It was the very least she owed this woman, an honest response to a heartfelt question. It only took a moment for her to find her answer, and a calm settled over her as she made her decision.
Pinning Seven with her smoky blue gaze, she spoke , "Yes, Seven. I do love you." A certain amount of awe saturated her words, as it was a realization for her as well. She'd known that she was attracted to Seven for quite some time now, but love was something she'd never let herself consider. She'd kept a tight rein on her feelings, always playing the Starfleet Captain, never allowing her guard to come down for a second if she could help it, not even when she was alone.
"That is fortunate." Seven remarked dryly, though her eyes held an alluring spark.
Janeway found herself smiling again, as she took the bait, her voice held a playful burr, "Oh it is, why is that?"
"Because I love you as well, Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager." Seven replied, daring to give the rarest gift of all along with her momentous words… a smile.
Janeway was enchanted by the gentle glow that radiated off the young woman, and the warmth her smile generated in the Captain's own chest.. This time, she took the lead, sliding around the bulky desk, intent on her goal. She stopped, a breath away from Seven, her face upturned. Searching the other woman's face for any sign of doubt, she slowly raised herself up until their lips were just touching.
They both smiled slightly at the contact, and then closed their eyes. Janeway settled into the myriad of sensations she was experiencing. Her heart was filled close to bursting, while a pleasant fire burned across her lips. One hand fluttered up to Seven's graceful neck, and exerted a mild pressure to bring the woman closer, and their lips moved against each others'. Janeway pulled Seven's enticing bottom lip between her own, and ran her tongue across it. A moment later Seven drew that same tongue into her mouth, and made a tentative quest against it with her own.
The Captain gave a small groan, and melted further into Seven's embrace, and felt strong, loving arms wrap around her. They continued like this until they were both short of breath, and were forced to break apart.
Janeway slowly opened her eyes as Seven withdrew, and raised a hand to her mouth, running her tingling fingers across her lips. "Oh my."
Seven quirked her eye implant, "Indeed."
Janeway gave her a wry look, while a question formed in her mind, "You mentioned the computer having provided you with several options as to what to do about my humming?"
Seven took the change of topic in stride, "Yes…" She looked at Janeway with frank appraisal, setting the Captain's skin alight with her burning gaze, "However, I have since discarded those courses of action."
"What were they though?" Janeway asked in genuine curiosity.
"Based on the data provided, and a very general extrapolation of possible extraneous causal factors… the computer suggested I have you immediately sedated and restrained in Sick Bay for extensive psychological testing." The ex-drone intoned as though she were reading sensor logs aloud.
The Captain laughed in disbelief, "Is that so?"
Seven's expression remained impassive, but then she responded with a query of her own, "We still have not resolved one matter, Captain; that of the song that you were humming in today's meeting."
Janeway gave Seven a pseudo-demure look from beneath her lashes as she answered in an intimate, gravelly voice tinged with a hint of amusement, "I'll never tell."
As she reached up to recapture the blonde's tender lips, she silently thanked Tom for lending her his recording of
"Makin' Whoopee".
Additional Acknowledgements: I don't own, nor do I claim to have any right to either 'Ride of the Valkyries' or 'Makin' Whoopee'; one of which was written by Wagner, and the other by Kahn and Donaldson, you decide which is which.
A big thanks goes out to Fewthistle, who was kind enough to inform me as to who the writers of 'Makin' Whoopee' are, and she also mentioned that, "there is a great version of it on Ella Fitzgerald: Pure Ella". She may or may not have threatened me with bodily harm if I didn't check out that album, but having listened to it, I suggest you do too. *grin*
And while you're at it, surf on over to Fewthistle's website, Endless Voyager, as it contains J/7 fan fiction to die for! I humbly suggest you read her story Knowledge, which is a beautiful introspective piece from Janeway's point of view. However, don't ignore the many seductive charms of her Voyager series, beginning with The Nature of Evil.
Happy Reading!
Please take a moment to:
She enjoys most of the major food groups, including Criticism and Praise, however Flames and Hate Mail give her indigestion.
There's no place like home.