by Joseph Anderson

All characters and situations from the show Star Trek: Voyager belong to Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended with this fan fiction, which may not be sold, may be copied for personal use only, and must contain all notices of copyright.

Tom Paris was sitting at his usual table in Sandrine's waiting for whoever might show up. Several crew members were at tables of their own. None of his own crowd had shown up yet though. The door opened and he saw Seven of Nine, looking around curiously. He was up on his feet instantly and waved to her. She didn't react so he went over to where she stood.

"Would you join me, Seven of Nine?" he said smiling.

"Join you?" she said unemotionally.

"Come and sit with me. Socialize. That's what this is: a computer program to facilitate socializing."

"All right." He led the Borg back to his table. There were looks of course, but since Seven of Nine had saved the ship from the V'dians, there was more than an abundance of good will for her. Everyone knew no one chose to be assimilated by the Borg, anyway.

"What would you like to drink? ItX;ta customary activity of socializing."

She looked at him, "Wild Turkey, straight up, with a Coors chaser."

"Okay. This is synthahol, you know. It's not the real thing though it'll taste the same and have the same effect. No hangover, I mean no after effects, though."

"That is sufficient."

Paris ordered another beer and their drinks arrived just as Harry Kim and B'Elanna Tores arrived. They took their seats and their eyes widened at Seven of Nine's drink.

"I'll have a beer," Harry said.

"I'll have what she's having," B'Elanna said. Seven of Nine looked at her and did not touch her drink until the engineer's had arrived. She looked directly in her eyes and held the shot up; B'Elanna followed suit.

"Um, this is the kind of thing that officers shouldn't do," Harry said.

"Shut up, Harry," B'Elanna said as she and Seven of Nine downed their shots of bourbon.

"Another round," Tom said.

"So how do you like the ship so far?" B'Elanna asked Seven of Nine.

"The Voyager is an excellent vessel. When it is assimiliated, it will serve the Borg well."

"Really?" B'Elanna said, as their drinks arrived. She raised her shot as did Seven of Nine and they drank them down.

"I have been studying historical data. Isn't it somewhat atypical for a female of your age to be without a mate?" Seven of Nine said, just as the drinks arrived.

"No, not particularly, and I do not choose to be typical, anyway," B'Elanna said as she lifted her drink.

"That's one way of looking at it," Seven of Nine answered as she and B'Elanna threw down the shots.

"Another round," Tom said.

Harry took his arm and said furiously, "They shouldn't be doing this. Even if there's no hangover, they feel it now. Anything can happen!"

"I'll say," Tom said, looking appreciatively at the two women.

B'Elanna raised her drink, "So" she said, "you a virgin? Had any machine love, Seven of Nine?"

The Borg's face was expressionless as she held her drink. "Virgin. The physical condition of a human female before she experiences sexual intercourse. No, I am not. Borg males can copulate for long periods, and when they finish another is ready to take their place for as long as the female is receptive. Looking at you, I surmise you are a virgin. Are you requesting my help?"

Harry and Tom both practically spit their beers out, and B'Elanna turned a deadly look on them.

"No, I am not requesting your help."

"So you are not a virgin?"

She looked at both Tom and Harry who were studiously not looking at her. She'd started this and she had to finish it. "No, I'm not a virgin."

"So you requested a male copulate with you and he consented?" Seven of Nine said. Tom and Harry both got up and walked away from the table, practically choking.

"No, that wasn't the circumstance. A male requested me and...I consented.... Let's get another drink here!" She looked at Seven of Nine. She could swear there was a smirk there.

Harry and Tom came back to the table just as the drinks arrived. Seven of Nine and B'Elanna held their drinks up.

"Perhaps if Mr. Paris drinks enough, he will consent to copulate with you," the Borg said and drank her shot down. B'Elanna choked and spit her drink out, her face red.

Seven of Nine stood up. "Resistance is futile," she said, and walked to the door and exited the program.

The End