Title : THE VACUUM OF SPACE Author : Henry Lee Contact : lee@aries.phys.yorku.ca Series : VOY Part : NEW 1/1 Archive : Seventh Heaven, ASC* okay; others, please request permission. Rating : [PG-13] Codes : K/7 Summary : Can't stand still much longer, poor laddie. In this AU, Harry is rewarded for his service to the ship. Too bad his life is missing that one extra detail. WORD OF CAUTION: I break from aired Trek canon and offer what I hope are plausible alternatives. Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created by Paramount et al. They aren't mine, but I use them like ink on a page. You know the rest ad nauseum, yatta yatta. This is inspired by my reading of the many pieces listed on Summer's Seventh Heaven K/7 archive (http://members.aol.com/summer73/k7home.htm). Thanks : To Lesa L. for her evaluation and critical comments; to Thomas L. for pointing out a big error on my part. Spoilers : minor recollections from Seasons 4, 5, and 6. ------------------------- THE VACUUM OF SPACE by Henry Lee ------------------------- An individual strode down the corridor, confidently, head held high. She walked efficiently at a constant pace. Her destination in mind was clear. Other members of the crew watched in fascination, envy, or whatever flavor of human emotion they'd cast on her or try to hide from their faces. Years had taught her to read people's faces. Now, it had been best simply in this case to ignore them; they were merely distractions. Finally, she had arrived and stood in front of an officer's quarters. Confidence was now replaced by uncertainty. She closed her eyes momentarily, her lips thinning into a line. For once, Seven of Nine was not sure how the events that would transpire here tonight would proceed. There were a number of obvious conclusions, of course, but when it came to "emotional matters" of a "personal nature", there were hardly any concrete answers. Ultimately, she would have to face each situation as they arose. Seven pressed the front console to the quarters, which emitted an audible signal both inside and outside. "Commander Kim, I wish to speak with you." Voyager's Operations Chief Harry Kim had been working on a project called Loopback, which combined resources from both Astrometrics and Engineering. With improved and increasingly frequent transmissions from the Federation and updates with respect to Barclay's "Pathfinder" project, Captain Janeway had set forth a plan to track more carefully those transmissions, improve telemetry, and provide the best projected spatial course back home to the Alpha Quadrant. They were now within reach of the arbitrary border, one of which Federation scientists had once defined to divide the Galaxy into their respective yet arbitrary quadratures. Indeed, they'd been close enough recently to wander near to "Four Corners." On Earth, there was a place by the same label on the north continent of the western hemisphere in what was once the former United States. It'd been a place Harry once remembered visiting on a "road trip" when he was a young boy. The Four Corners out here in the Galaxy were just as scenic, around which sectors came complete with odd astronomical phenomena; nebulae, supernovae remnants, and planetary systems, the latter of which were populated by friendly species with whom Voyager had traded technology and supplies. Janeway had even set up a week's worth of shore leave on the ice world of Vestmanneyaehr. Far more important, however, was that Voyager was now mere months from reaching its Federation home in Sector Zero-Zero-One. Harry smiled at the designation, having re-read Captain Jean-Luc Picard's account of his capture by the Borg and the successful attempts by his Enterprise crew to retrieve him from the Borg. In parallel, he had given thought to memories of the Voyager crew and their efforts to retrieve Seven of Nine from the Borg Queen. Because of the shared memories and experiences upon assimilation, it had been fascinating to hear Seven talk of the Enterprise, Captain Picard, and Locutus. All of it offered interesting and varying perspectives to the official logs. In any case, Sector Zero-Zero-One never sounded so good, now that they could sense the ever closing proximity of home. For Voyager to reach home, it would have taken decades, at least another generation, had the inhabitants of the ship survived that long. By various means, risks, and great strokes of fortune, the voyage now had been compressed to a grand total of just over nine years, six of them after Seven of Nine had been left behind by the Borg and Janeway saw to resurrecting Seven's humanity. Much had happened in the intervening time. Just over a year ago, Harry Kim had achieved his latest promotion. Jokingly, he had pondered openly at the time if a causality loop hadn't suddenly opened up and swallowed him whole. But it had not been just any series of promotions. No, it had taken extreme acts of life and death to finally gain notice: getting killed, then being resurrected; how by staying alive, his minor acts of rebellion had been largely instrumental in the liberation of the crew from the Hirogen; getting duplicated on the Y-class Demon planet; having his body "annexed" by two alien species; having saved lives on Voyager and people on so many worlds he'd lost count; how he had been wrongly imprisoned for 53 hellish days by the Ts'akdi before Tom and Chakotay had sprung his escape; how, with the help of B'Elanna and Seven, they had delivered Voyager and her crew from the clutches of the amoral Shekstar ... How, finally, all of it had added up. Patience was one thing, but really, as his friend Tom Paris had so jovially reminded him time and again, the wait for a promotion had been downright ridiculous. Naturally, Harry had almost given up on any kind of promotion, of being noticed; he simply did his work the best he could and hoped he wouldn't remain at the rank of Ensign for too long. That had been solved for some time when he and Tom had both been promoted to Lieutenant junior grade. The rapid advances from Project Loopback had made a subsequent decision even easier. Three months ago, by order of Captain Janeway and the rank which befitted her, she had invoked the prerogative of Voyager command by essentially fast tracking Lieutenant (j.g.) Harry Kim past Lieutenant full grade and onto the rank of Lieutenant Commander. All had agreed it was quite the miraculous climb. Most chalked it up to the fact that the intermediary step in promotion should have come much sooner. Understandably, he was surprised. Then overjoyed. Then overcome with the responsibilities which came with rank. Lieutenant Commander Tom Paris wouldn't have been a friend, if he didn't provide both verbal and tangible support for Harry. The subsequent party for Harry lasted a full day and a half; or rather, Janeway had ordered the celebrations. The senior crew had agreed that his service to Voyager had been beyond exemplary and commendable. Had they been in the Alpha Quadrant, surely Harry Kim would've been offered the First Officer position on his choice of ships. Janeway had emphasized as much in her personal logs to that effect, as she had also added an equivalent entry with regards to Paris. And besides, Janeway and Chakotay agreed the crew had needed an excuse to `party hardy.' Fortunately, the sector of space in which they were traveling had been free of malevolent species, ripped extraneous temporal manifolds, big black dark voids, or spatial anomalies. The same old, same old ... And how the party had gone on and on. Holodecks One and Two had gotten quite the workout, not since their time with the Hirogen had holographic experiences been so lengthy. Obviously, this was far more pleasurable than having been trapped in an old Earth war scenario. The party had even gotten Seven to admit she had had `a good time.' She had been very pleased for Harry. Back in the present, Harry had begun to like the sound of his rank. Not quite the green Ensign was he, but given the time and distance of space travel, he had learned the difficult lessons of being seasoned, the ship all alone on the other side of the Galaxy, relying upon themselves, their intelligence, creativity, and courage. He'd been changed. All in all, he'd become a better person and an excellent officer. He had learned much from the examples set by Captain Janeway. However, some of his experiences had been painful, making him feel much older. Living and dealing with an "extended family" aboard Voyager and having been stranded out in the Delta Quadrant these past years had left their mark. He'd become more confident, introspective, and, at times some might have said, a little more withdrawn. Sometimes, he might be bold, and even a little too aggressive, times at which Janeway had reeled him rather suitably. By all outward appearances, the crew knew him to be a happy and generous man, albeit more serious, given his newfound rank and obligations. He'd been sitting at his desk within his expanded quarters: after all, rank does have its privileges. The living room and the work or office area weren't separated, as usual, but each were now 15 per cent larger. He was off-duty now, dressed in comfortable `civvies': a grey tee-shirt underneath, covered by a blue-grey sweatshirt with the words "San Francisco" on the front, and a pair of black pants. As co-leader of Project Loopback and his elevated rank within the senior staff, he had been given suitable clearance by Janeway to classified Federation transmissions. Sipping and then putting down a cup of green tea, he'd picked up one of many PADDs scattered about the desk. He'd just been reading about recent developments within the Federation and the implications of their return into the Alpha Quadrant. The conflict with the Dominion, the Founders and their subjugates from the Gamma Quadrant had finally ebbed to low-level terrorist activities near the border, even though the Founders had taken themselves out of the picture years ago. The Federation had simply decided to officially institute a non-interventionist policy for the next 30 years with the Gamma Quadrant, which effectively meant: you stay on your side, and we'll stay on ours. However, it hadn't escaped Harry's notice that, if one were to read between the lines, the station Deep Space 9 and the nearby planet Bajor maintained "special" strategic status, as the Federation had begun to initiate plans for shoring up the frontier. As an unsteady building of walls had begun with the Gamma Quadrant, a very old barrier within the Alpha Quadrant had begun to crumble. What had been truly startling were the thawing relations between Romulus and Vulcan. Ambassador Spock's work had finally begun to bear some fruit and, as old as he was, he'd remained alive long enough to see the start of normalization of relations between the two peoples. There were isolationists within the Romulan Senate, but the Romulan people had begun to speak out with ever increasing volume, unwilling to participate in an unnecessary and wasteful conflict with the Federation. Despite his earlier and understandable skepticism, even Commander Tuvok had come around and agreed that these developments had indeed been logical. It would be quite the fundamental shift in power and relations within the Alpha Quadrant, though the Federation wouldn't exactly be running out of `enemies.' When it came down to the details, Harry thought to himself, Voyager's experiences within the Delta Quadrant would serve the Federation well. It had become clear to all that upon Voyager's return, the Federation would begin to send reconnaissance and research vessels into these parts of space. Frankly, Harry would be glad to leave the future missions to someone else. He wouldn't exactly take much liking to a desk job at Federation headquarters or a teaching job at the Academy. Call him `old-fashioned,' it was just that he'd wanted to spend some time floating about in the Alpha Quadrant. Mindful of alternatives however, he considered he'd even be happy to find himself at Utopia Planitia, working on adapting and perfecting the slipstream drive to new generations of ships. Perhaps he'd even find a command position for himself. But he had oft wondered what would happen to one particular person on board Voyager. The other co-leader of Project Loopback was now standing outside his quarters. Her knowledge far surpassed any other member of the Voyager crew, but still, she had yet a great deal to learn and develop. To no surprise to anyone on Voyager, Seven had performed more than admirably on entrance examinations to the Academy. As Captain Janeway had logged Seven's time and service to Voyager and her crew, Janeway had initially given Seven rank of `(Acting) Ensign.' As time had passed, it was clear the rank only served to maintain command structure, even though the accumulated and assimilated knowledge of the Borg made her indispensable and wholly valuable to Voyager's survival and journey. And what would happen to Seven? There had been a conversation about this last week in the Mess Hall: Seven, Harry, Tom, B'Elanna, the Doctor had all chipped in with their suggestions, hashing out possibilities for Seven. Harry hoped that Federation scientists (and politicians, for that matter) would not view her as having remained Borg and that they wouldn't keep her under `lock and key,' poking and prodding her like the proverbial `lab rat.' On the plus side, as even B'Elanna had pointed out, it was possible that Seven could complete all Academy training in a relatively short amount of time. Or, if she wished, she could be an independent contractor, who could apply the wealth of her knowledge to any number of projects throughout the Quadrant ... well, so long, as she didn't side with the Ferengi. In any case, the latter option seemed to evoke the most positive reaction from Seven. A tacit agreement had been made by those in the Mess Hall, that they would support Seven in her choice, and defend her when it was needed. It had been quite some time since Janeway had found a reason to get Harry and Seven working together again. When Astrometrics had begun, he had always been flushed with excitement, ready to work with her, willing to be in her presence. His attempts at `light banter' would frequently fail, but as a much younger Ensign, he'd just plowed through without additional heed to any of her irritation. He thought he'd been falling in love with her, but really, it'd been one hell of an infatuation. Experience had told him that it had been very much like feelings he'd had for other females, who'd peppered his sex life over the last number of years, unexpected viral infections notwithstanding. Fortunately, he made no enemies and, with the months remaining, he had made a conscious decision not be with anyone for the rest of the journey home. Eventually, two things occurred. Harry and Seven had been so good at Astrometrics that Janeway, Tuvok, and Chakotay agreed that the two would now train other junior crew members. This would lessen the load required by Harry and Seven to devote too much time to Astrometrics and would allow the two to distribute their skills more feasibly onto other projects. This eventually led to the second occurrence. Harry and Seven had begun to co-operate on far fewer projects. He had thought at the time the senior staff were deliberately keeping them apart, now that everybody within a parsec of Voyager knew of his `feelings' towards her. Based upon the rumor mill, he'd suspected Seven of knowing how he had felt; even Seven had preferred in an unspoken fashion to maintain a safe distance from him at the time. He hadn't been too happy at the time, but he'd shaken it off as dumb paranoia. As time had dulled his disappointment and his feelings had begun slowly to fade, service to Voyager came first and he was satisfied with what that had entailed. But an unexpected benefit had also come to pass. Although Harry and Seven were effective and efficient as colleagues, the apparent distance between them served as fuel for their respective desire to know each other. Seven had realized that she had "missed" his presence, though she hadn't stated it so succinctly. While Seven had needed less guidance from both Janeway and the Doctor, she had begun making real friends aboard Voyager. Seven smiled more, was less abrasive, and could hold a conversation beyond the topics of duty, technology, or the irrelevance of pointless conversation. There were, of course, the detractors, but they were in the minority. At the outset, Seven hadn't cared for having friends, then she found it comforting to have friends, which meant that she wasn't alone. This had finally been followed by the difficult lesson that one was simply unable to keep everybody happy. At that juncture, even Harry had thought to himself how it could have applied to him: how he was trying to keep the idea in his mind that he was trying so hard to keep people happy. Being true to self while being good and kind to others were the tenets that she had learned and he had relearned for himself. The entire magnitude of the effect she'd had on the crew was not fully appreciated until very recently. In the Napfsratz system, habitants there were for the most part peaceful spacefarers, who explored in their search for knowledge. But they had experienced their share of Borg incursions: the Napfsratz had suffered greatly, scarring them inside and outside, even though their colonized worlds and their people had escaped annihilation. Chakotay, Harry, Seven, and Tom were down on the surface of the fifth planet, which was the most populous and at the political center of the system. They'd gone ostensibly to make official "first relations" between the two respective peoples and, then, to trade for supplies. When the Napfsratz (Species 4521) had caught onto the fact that Seven was once Borg, they had quietly taken her aside, arrested and charged her for "Borg crimes against the Napfsratz." All contact with the Napfsratz had been suspended. Janeway realized that Seven was being used as an example, because First Minister Golnid Waath had sensed that her people needed some "justice." It hadn't been anyone's fault, really - Waath empathized deeply with her people and wanted them to heal and to move forward, while Voyager had ended being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Of course, Janeway had been most emphatic in her "requests", then "demands" for Seven's release, all of which fell upon deaf ears. Subsequent negotiations failed. A hasty trial was held and Janeway acted as advocate on Seven's behalf. Not surprisingly, the Napfsratz courts passed sentence: Seven was to die in two of their solar days, or in 37 Earth hours time. He remembered how he'd been practically inconsolable. To have her life end in this way was so absolutely pointless, he thought. He had pleaded with Janeway, Chakotay, even Tom; anyone who would listen to him. Despondent, he had even openly threatened to hijack a shuttle by himself to fight his way to the surface and to facilitate Seven's escape. Faced with little choice, Janeway had confined him to quarters to cool down. It had been a wise act. Harry realized that he would achieve little with his wasteful act of bluster: 25 Earth hours had remained until the time of Seven's execution. So, having been sufficiently calmed down, Harry had begged for an audience with the Captain. What Harry wanted to do was to hold an `eleventh hour' meeting between the Captain, Chakotay, himself, First Minister Waath and two executive members of her Governing Council. The meeting would be held in ten hours. What happened in those subsequent hours had been remarkable. The Napfsratz believed that Seven had retained drone tendencies, still an automaton in being. In order to convince Waath and the Council members, Harry had collected accounts from members of the Voyager crew, who had come forward with their own experiences with Seven; how far she had come with her individuality and her humanity, how her sharp and intimidating presence had now been `tempered' by a unique and newfound kindness to others. The recollections by Samantha and Naomi Wildman had been particularly compelling. It all had come down to the final two hours, but the testimonies of the Voyager crew had convinced the Council that Seven could not be blamed, and that the intrinsic nature of Seven's own humanity would not be held accountable for acts not of her deliberate doing. The Napfsratz could not blame young Annika Hansen, who'd been captured all those years ago. The Council had apologized for their actions. Captain Janeway, ever the forgiving person, had thought nothing more and even resumed trade for a short period of time, before Voyager quietly went on their way. Upon return to Voyager, Seven had been grateful. She didn't even mind the `welcome back' party that the crew had arranged for her. To look at Seven, one might have easily suspected that she was at once `relieved' and `content' to be back on board Voyager with her friends. Where Harry was concerned, his best friends, Tom and B'Elanna, continued to discover the joys of married life and learning how to survive sleepless nights with a new baby girl. All of it had naturally led to the fact that Harry was spending less time with Tom and B'Elanna. Harry was completely understanding, much to the relief and gratitude of Tom and B'Elanna. With time, the former desire Harry once had for the Borg woman had been shaped. It had been molded now into respect and real affection for Seven, a woman whose humanity continued to grow. Learning as she did about the "inefficacies" of human behavior, he learned as well, all there was to know about what defined Seven. Simply put, he really cared about her as a young woman, coming out of the Borg shell. His time with Seven had eventually led to his new role as an additional mentor to Naomi Wildman. Once precocious and excitable, Naomi had developed a wonderful curiosity about many things, a characteristic which had been greatly sharpened with her time spent with Seven. Seven realized that there were limitations to her abilities in the continuing development of the young girl. To achieve the goal of finding "perfection" for Naomi Wildman, Seven had come to ask Harry for a favor. He remembered the moment fondly. Several months ago, Harry and Seven had been talking about her time with Naomi, when Seven made one of her declarations. "You will assist me in the teaching and development of Naomi Wildman. I have gained prior permission from her mother about another instructor. I have already culled together a list of suitable candidates, and based upon the criteria I have laid out, I have come to the conclusion that you will be sufficient for the task at hand." "Seven, are you asking me to help you? Are you asking me for a favor? "..." "I see. Say `please.'" "Commander Kim, will you please aid me in the instruction of Naomi Wildman?" "Why yes, I would be very pleased in aiding you with teaching Naomi." "Thank you." "You're welcome, Seven." He had taken great pleasure at the moment, watching the wheels turn in her mind. She had known, of course, that he'd been playing her. It would've explained the subtle but cool tone in her voice. Afterwards, if he hadn't known any better, he might have actually suspected Seven of "sulking." He and Seven would meet up somewhat regularly in the Mess Hall to "shoot the breeze," as much of a breeze one could find within the vacuum of space. Actually, he had simply wanted to see her to find out how she was doing. She certainly hadn't complained of the time they had spent together: talking, eating, reliving experiences and relaying them to each other. Over time, the energy he'd once directed towards Tom and B'Elanna had been redistributed over the years towards Seven, now that Tom and B'Elanna had their own worries. It had become very important to him that they had eventually become friends, even if she hadn't quite crossed that bridge and called him by his given name. Oh well, he figured, couldn't win `em all. The truth of late was that he'd missed her. He had really enjoyed his debates with her regarding the finer aspects of humanity or, as it had been the other day, the irrelevant beauty of a tasty doughnut, which he'd been craving for days. Project Loopback had taken much of their time, in addition to their existing duties. They were busy and they were happy, or in a "reasonable state of dynamic equilibrium," as Seven had so called it. Two weeks ago, Seven had been ordered to work on improving the interaction of the matter-antimatter medium with the warp field by adapting plasma manifolds and conduits to updates in fusion initiator sequences and shorter injection duty cycles. All of it would be combined, of course, with the efficiencies adapted from Borg technology. Seven had been stuck with B'Elanna and her crew in Engineering. Since then, he hadn't seen her much at all. Unfortunately, the rumor mill on Voyager hadn't changed one bit. The cogs of the rumor machine were just as voracious as it had been from the very start. The channels by which accounts of all kinds, substantiated or otherwise, could be fed were practically instantaneous. The latest rumor was that Seven had begun to spend a greater amount of time with the Doc in the Holodecks. His mentoring lessons about humanity and social skills for Seven had become much less frequent in the past few years and, when she last spoke of them to Harry, she had stated that she hadn't had a lesson in over six months. The latest scuttlebutt was that someone had seen Seven and the Doc together the other day, walking out of Holodeck One, hand in hand. In the past, the rumor would have had the power to hurt him. Even Tom and B'Elanna had pointed that out at lunch the other day, and they had also been happy that Harry had been able to move on. At that, Harry had to admit to the two that the rumor regarding Doc and Seven in a "closer" relationship was at the very least "unsettling." But what did it matter to him, so long as she was happy. Wasn't it? He wasn't the jealous type. Really. Shaking his head, he thought rather bemusedly that he hadn't dug up any of those feelings in such a long time. Perhaps, they had remained after all this time, choosing better by apparent discretion not to admit openly to her of the feelings he once had. However, he had recognized that he wouldn't take anything away from the time he'd spent with Seven in the last few years. Instead, he had sheltered his feelings very carefully. He realized subconsciously that he may have held out a small glimmer of hope for something more to happen between them. She had gone out on dates with other members of the crew. All of them had thought themselves so lucky at the time, until they realized they didn't know a single thing about Seven. None of them made it to the "second dates." He was in fact a little uncomfortable when she had declared her wish of partaking more frequently in the human social activity called "dating". By the time candidates #3 and #4 rolled around, he stopped worrying, assured that nothing more would become of them. Now, he understood that he might have been taking Seven and their friendship for granted. This would be his last huge mistake with Seven. But now, hearing that she was just outside his quarters, there was something undefined in her voice. Something he hadn't heard before, but had brought him fully to his attention. "Come in, Seven." He turned his head to greet her, as Seven stepped fully into his quarters. That was odd: she looked different. The dark blue bodysuit was familiar to him, of course, but there was something else. He couldn't put a finger on it. But perhaps the disturbed look in her face might reveal some clues. "Seven! Hey, are you all right? Is there something I can do for you?" She hadn't looked at him since she had entered his quarters. Hadn't been able to look at him in the eyes. Why not? Why was it important for her to tell Harry about her decision? After all the time they'd spent together, they had begun to form an unusual kind of bond, whose results had been clear. She had begun to relax much more and had begun to embrace less efficient aspects of humanity, which had not gone unnoticed by the crew. From her, he had come to value the peace that could be found within restraint and logic, applied with a little more patience and perseverance. They had clearly benefited from their time spent together, taking and learning from the other the finer qualities and adopting them as their own. About to carry through with her primary decision, she had in fact pondered at some length why she had made the secondary decision to tell Harry. It had come down to the simple fact that she trusted him and she felt that he trusted her as well. She had realized that Harry had from the very outset tried to see who she really was, from the moment she came on board this vessel. Even a blow to the head hadn't dissuaded him! Nor her frank proposition to copulate soon after had frightened him. Whomever she was, parts Seven and others that remained of Annika, Harry would learn those secrets. If each had come to learn about the other's histories up to now, there hadn't been much left to hold back. If there was something new that she had discovered about herself, she would tell him, ask him, and he would listen or answer when needed. If he had been feeling rather ebullient or particularly foul, he had been free to seek her out and tell her what he was feeling and she accepted it. It had all been wonderfully liberating. Here now in his quarters, she was about to tell him the truth and wasn't truth an absolute ideal to uphold, especially between such trusted friends? And so, she finally looked at him. "Commander, may I trust you in confidence?" "Uh, sure, Seven, okay." Harry wasn't liking where this was going. "Go ahead, Seven. You can tell me." "Will you be upset with me?" "I don't know, Seven. It depends. Are you planning on leaving the ship?" "No." "Have you decided to rejoin the Borg collective?" "No! I am now a part of you ... of the Voyager Collective." She had caught herself, hoping that he had missed it. `Sorry, Seven, big whopper of a slip,' Harry thought. "Well, Seven, what is it? Frankly, I'm dying of suspense here." Crisply, she replied. "There is no one presently dying here and, as you well know, suspense is ..." "Yes, yes, I know, `suspense is irrelevant.'" He smiled at her. "Look, just tell me! We're friends; you can trust me." "Very well. I have come here to inform you of my decision to partake in a more long-term affiliation with a member of this crew." Uh oh, he thought. Warning bells were now ringing in his head. Sometimes, rumors can come back to bite you in the ass. And in my case, they can make your life a living hell. Idly, he didn't really think that this new affiliation of hers was going to be with him. Still, he wanted, needed to know who the lucky guy was. That is, until _Commander_ Kim would go privately over to the hapless fool, pull rank, and read him the riot act. Oh, and how Harry would enjoy it, too. Rank, privilege, and all ... Reassured by his words, touched by the fact that he had admitted that they were friends, Seven gathered up her courage and spoke again. "I have decided to associate myself in a romantic affiliation with the Doctor." All of it had made sense. In their last two or three conversations, she'd been dropping hints to him about what he felt if she and the Doctor were to develop something more. Although he'd been non-committal, Harry had refused to consider the possibility, considering only that this would last as long as her previous dates. What was it again, he thought, about taking things for granted? Two things leapt to Harry's head. One, it wouldn't be a junior member of the crew to whom he could suitably ream out for breathing the same air as he did. Two, he couldn't believe this was happening. This was really beginning to bother him. He could feel a headache threatening to envelop him. Finally, after a very long pause, he was able to speak. "I don't believe it." Seven's brow furrowed with confusion. "But, I am telling you the truth. Is that not which you had once indicated to me, that telling the truth in these situations was important between friends?" "Yes, but ... not ... like this ..." Words failed to describe the sudden chaotic storm of feelings, which now arose within Harry. Seven's confusion went up a notch, and being confused was irritating. Underlying her words now was a rising level of annoyance. "Why not? We have spent much time, relaying details of our personal lives. I have learned much about humanity and I have gained immensely from our friendship. I did not completely understand why I needed to tell you of this development, but only that I desired to state my intentions to you as soon as it was possible, because we are friends and because I believed that this was an important decision. I have need to trust you, as you have done with me." In an instant, "all's fair in love and war" had sprung in Harry's mind. Something within him broke; there would be no going back. "THE DOC?!!!?!?!" He could no longer contain his disbelief or his patience. "You've decided to affiliate yourself with the Doc ... he's a goddamn holographic projection!!!" Seven took a step back, unaccustomed to Harry's bluntness and anger. She was totally confused by his reaction. She had seen and learned from her observations of people on Voyager that this kind of reaction came out of one particular source. Surely, he could not have harbored feelings for her. He had never made any indications or overt gestures towards her, since his attempts to watch the K'tarian moonrise with her. Ever since he had rejected her subsequent request for copulation and the unfortunate incident about finding "suitable dating candidates" thereafter, she had been certain that any opportunity for the two of them had long since passed. In ignorance, both parties had unknowingly moved on. No, it could not be. Seven was growing irritated by his reaction. "You promised not to be angry!" Ignoring her now, he took a step back, turning his back to her. "He's not even real!" He finally turned around to face her again. In disbelief, she could hardly believe the transformation of Harry Kim before her eyes. All of it began to shake her from the once placid and smiling image of Harry Kim within her mind, one that greatly contrasted the sight of him before her now. Stopping to collect his thoughts, Harry rolled both his fists, an indignant and frustrated look on his face. Indeed, Seven was most unfamiliar with this Harry, a muscle in his lower jaw, rippling back and forth with unbridled fury. Seven couldn't have possibly known that he'd been furious with himself, over what he now apparently thought had been wasted time. "What is wrong with you?" Seven asked. She was flustered and was completely out of her element. She had an overwhelming urge to leave. For an unexplained and irrational reason, she wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch his face, to smooth and ease his tension. She realized somewhat belatedly that he was stepping forward in her direction. She had nowhere to go, backing slowly towards the wall. "Me? Nothing at all! I'm fine, really!!!", his mouth closed, chasing words out through gritted teeth. Just where the hell had this come all of a sudden? He had believed (incorrectly) he had it all figured out when it came to Seven. He couldn't believe that he'd been so very wrong. But he continued to spill, verbalizing thoughts, whereupon he would have once shown a little more discretion. "We all know he aspires to become more `human,' but unless there's a technological miracle we're unaware of here in the Delta Quadrant, he will remain as an artificial construct of photons and force fields. I'm not going to argue with you about sentient beings. But what about us as people, whose hearts beat true and flesh is real?" What about me, he thought. "I just can't see how you can find true happiness as a human being with a relationship with the Doc." His voice betrayed a kind of sadness, a grim feeling beginning to gnaw at his gut. "Happiness is irrelevant ... ," Seven shot back, ignoring Harry's admission. "NOT TO ME, IT ISN'T!!!" Aware he was shouting, he calmed down. His voice suddenly dropped, dangerous in tone, low in amplitude. "Not when it comes to yours ... or mine." His shouting and his subsequent words had startled Seven. She swallowed and took a sudden breath. Harry noticed the movement in her throat, recognizing the impact his words had on her. Inwardly, he was satisfied a little, but it wasn't enough. Not by a long shot. For a long moment, the shutter in Harry's eyes had fallen just far enough for her to see the truth. He closed his eyes, as if he were contemplating an important decision. He began to explain himself. "I'm sorry, Seven ... I know all of us - you, me, and the Doctor - are friends. We've all been through so much in the last six years. If that's really what you want, I ... I don't want to stop you. But there's something ... you ... I just wanted you to know something before you went ahead with your ... affiliation." He stopped for a moment to fortify his courage. He continued. "I guess the truth is that I've been waiting for you. In the last number of months, I wouldn't admit it to myself, but the fact remains is that you're constantly on my mind. It's been this way for awhile. You may have noticed that my efficiency has dropped considerably ..." Seven nodded. Come to think of it, his "deterioration" was supposed to have been a matter that she was going to address with him. Putting the thought aside, her lips pursed in a manner so familiar to him, which told him to continue. "I thought with time you would see things a little more clearly. That eventually you would be ready to see _me_ for the person I am. That's why I said `no' to you that time you asked me to copulate with you: I wanted to be friends with you first. I don't regret any of the time we've spent together, but I'm telling you now - I want more ..." Harry made his move, stepping quickly forward to come well within her personal space. Seven's eyes opened a little wider, amazed at what was happening now. She had come here to tell him this latest truth of hers and, instead, he had been the one to shock her with his. Remembering to breathe, she inhaled and took in all that was Harry: angry, vulnerable, exasperated, and ... even forceful. If she'd given it an extra pause, Seven would've seen that something momentous was about to happen. He really looked at her now. For an instant, a living memory of colors replaced his inner vision. The months and years rushing by him ... her lips always so full, so red and vibrant. Her skin, smooth, seemingly soft and pure, white like alabaster. Her eyes, clear, intelligent and blue, reflecting an infinitely deep blue sky or the calm cool waters of an alpine lake. In all, a certain radiance surrounded her, powerful and illuminating. Seven couldn't think of anything constructive to add, nothing which would somehow bring to mind a reasonable alternative to the situation which presented to her now. Sensing the moment, Harry took the final step, moving forward to his destiny. He stopped at the end; his hands held her arms, gentle and firm. His lips barely touched hers, leaving just enough room for him to utter three words, softly, slowly ... "Resist this, Annika ..." And before she could utter another word, he planted his mouth firmly on hers: demanding, unyielding, brooking no insolence from her. Eyes closed not trusting himself with what he might see in her, his hands cradled her face, pressing himself. Sometimes truth had a funny way of letting itself out of the bag. Struck initially by her own confusion, Seven realized that he had called out her human name, which had sounded so real to her, coming from his lips. And she realized that the emotions and these feelings which surrounded her and his kissing of her were all beginning to overwhelm her. It had been completely unexpected. She pulled back, looking at him, openly amazed. She had not resisted. "Seven?" "I believe that I am finding this experience wholly exhilarating and entirely pleasing." She wasn't smiling, but her eyes said otherwise. "Well then ... you'll just have to kiss me again, won't you?" The edge of her mouth curled upwards. "I will comply ..." She decided she wanted to feel more. She leaned into him and now, she was as insistent about kissing him, as he had been about kissing her at the very start. The dawn of something new, a new understanding had begun to form a connection in her mind; from their initial meeting, to the time they had spent together, to the present, to enjoying the sensation of his lips on hers. For Harry, it was better than his dreams: better than he had hoped for, much better when it had been realized. His thoughts mingled with the imaginings and the reality of what was happening, a mix of fascination, curiosity, and wonderment ... `How her lips are so soft, undemanding, and yielding. Her tongue slipping out between her lips to smooth over mine. I can do this, too. My mouth moves over hers, my tongue reaching just over to play with her tongue. Can you taste me?' `I can't tell if the sounds I'm hearing are mine or hers. What my body's telling me is that her body is definitely responding. That I've finally reached a part of the real Annika Hansen, hidden away, beyond the layers called Seven of Nine. I really want to believe that this is really happening. I don't want to take this to the total, if not completely logical, conclusion. Not yet ... I want to enjoy this ...' Too much thinking, he thought to himself, will only get you into trouble. Especially as they continued their kiss, especially how her arms had moved over him, lingering now on his neck, shoulders, and his back. Reluctantly, he pulled back and opened his eyes. Their arms were around each other and, as he lifted his mouth from hers, it hadn't escaped his notice that her hold on him had gotten a little tighter. He didn't want there to be any regrets and he wanted to reassure her. "I'm sorry if I was a little rough on you, Seven." He'd been so angry that he had used her Terran name. He'd always dreamed of saying it out loud and in her presence. Unknown to him, she'd always thought that no one would ever dare speak of her former designation in her presence. She had been touched, actually. Meeting halfway didn't seem so bad now. "Don't be sorry, Comman ..." She suddenly looked so unsure, so unlike the mask she presented to the rest of Voyager. The present situation called for far less formality. "It's all right, Seven. My name is Harry. Go on; say it." It wasn't a command, of course. But he wanted her to say his name all the same. "Harry." She was testing the two-syllable word carefully in a neutral manner. He didn't know whether he should be delirious with joy or be suitably insulted. He decided that it didn't matter. "There, you see? That wasn't so hard, was it?" A grin had begun to make its way onto his face. "No." When had she suddenly been at such a loss for words? A smile had turned her lips upwards, but her eyes said so much more. They always did. Her eyes could not, would not lie to him. But there was one thing she needed to know. "Why didn't you tell me sooner ... Harry?" Their osculation had made her lips swollen, the urgency of their kisses and the fact that he had braced both of them against the wall ... well, her hair now was a little more unkempt. Seven's hair was now in loose wispy threads, surrounded by a halo of golden light and that some of those threads were dangling over her eyes. Humbled by the angelic sight before him, Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. Tentatively, he tried to put into words his feelings. "I believed for so long that my feelings for you were short-term, more infatuation than anything else. I didn't want to take advantage of you. We've developed a really good working relationship and I had little desire to ruin our professional `affiliation.' Our work together has been productive and rewarding. But eventually, I realized that I missed you, the personal side to you, the one you'd begun to let me see. I realize that I want to be the one, who will accompany you on the rest of your journey in your search and development for humanity." Harry reached up with his right hand and caressed her ocular implant and back down along her cheek. Now, his left hand came up along the other cheek, coming to rest, his palm against the implant below her right ear. He was cradling Seven's head in his hands, thumbs caressing her cheeks and onto her lips; amazed as he was by how soft her skin and her lips had felt to his fingers. Seven closed her eyes, pleasure coursing throughout her body with his touch. Harry reached up, and with his right index finger, parted the threads, which had been loose over her eyes, back tenderly behind her left ear. His fingers continued his light touches, now smoothed gently over and around her ear. He reached over and freed the rest of her hair. Now free, he was able to run his hand gently through her hair. "I did not ... realize ... or know ..." Seven was still relatively speechless. Seven's eyes fell once more upon his lips. Clearly, she wanted to relive the sensation, to "reengage" herself in a totally irrelevant act of human intimacy. Her face had regained the placid composure known by all, but her body language screamed "I want more." Only in the privacy of quarters or a suitable environment would she reveal herself in such a manner. She was so vulnerable to him now. Harry couldn't believe what a beautiful gift she'd given him. "Seven, before we start staring at each other into a silent stupor, why don't we sit down?" He held out his arm, hand outstretched, leading the way to his couch. "I think we've got a few things to discuss." "I am unclear as to how this will proceed, Harry. I take it that you want to discuss terms for a change in our affiliation." "Seven, I'm not trying to negotiate a peace treaty between two warring factions." Harry stopped to consider something. "Did you think this was some kind of ... battle, an engagement of sorts?" They had made it to the couch. He sat, careful to yield first, not wanting to appear that he was trying to push her in an unwanted direction. He folded his hands on his lap, if only to still the trembling jolts, shooting up and down his spine. "Initially, my assessment was that of an optimized and efficient strategy. I had come up with a tactical plan and had carried it out to the best of my knowledge and abilities. I believe now that I may have erred, that my decision to form a romantic bond with the Doctor is incorrect, now that I have been more fully informed." He looked up at her. "What are you going to tell him?" He watched her anew, her hair down and walking towards him on the couch. "I do not know. But I will tell the Doctor that I will not be with him, that my reasoning has been faulty. I will indicate to him that I require someone who has shared with me his life experiences, success and failures, hopes, worries, dreams; one who has allowed me to see what he has revealed of himself openly to me. I will tell the Doctor that you will be my candidate for romantic affiliation." It was clear now that she spoke to him with more than a hint of affection in her voice. Seven now sat on the couch to his right. Her hip was next to his and she decided she wanted more contact. She reached out behind him, her left hand cradled up against his waist, holding him to her. Her right hand crept up to his shoulder, squeezing, caressing, up and down his arm, stroking. Her face remained open to him, looking at him in wonder and tenderness. "You know, Seven, for someone who's supposed to be fairly new to all of this, do you have any idea about what you're doing to me?" He was surprised he was able to squeeze out such a cogent sentence. Her touch was incredible, uniquely Seven, and _very_ human. He remembered to work his lungs: breathe in, breathe out ... His eyes dilated another half millimeter wider when he realized she had leaned up against the side of his neck and she had breathed deeply. Dear God - she was breathing his essence. And then she ... she kissed his neck, her tongue beginning to taste his essence. She decided that she liked it. For all of this and her newfound knowledge to this beautiful side of humanity, Seven had more than an inkling of what she was doing to him. His breathing became more labored. She smiled inwardly and lifted her head to look at him. A small groan had escaped his lips. "Yes," was all that Seven managed to whisper. "I know full well of what I am doing to you. Do you wish for me to stop?" All throat, voice husky, dripping with lust and desire. It was a side to her he definitely wanted to see more, something about which he didn't think he would tire easily any time soon. "Don't you want to discuss our terms now?" Harry threw the phrase back at her, trying desperately to move the conversation back to the topic at hand. Problem was he wasn't sure he wanted to talk any more. Seven stopped what she'd been doing with her hands and looked up into his eyes to ensure no ambiguity. Her voice gathered the familiar and steely with usual prim Borgness, but now softly flavored with warmth and affection, only for him, completely flooding him with blinding heat. "Open all channels on all frequencies, Harry Kim. I surrender." And such sweet surrender it is, Harry thought, as she pushed the rest of him onto the couch. He looked at her, her eyes mere inches from his. The world had never looked so inviting in each other's eyes. They closed their eyes and their lips went for the other and resumed another soft kiss, more slowly now. Her body felt warm, comforting, enveloping him, every part of their bodies touching each other. Her breasts pressing against his chest, his hands up and down her hips and legs, squeezing and stroking. They stopped kissing and she lifted her head just enough to look at him. Running her hands through his hair, she gazed upon him now, the features on her face so completely open to him and holding nothing back. She studied and memorized every feature on his face; watching emotions flitting across his face, as surely as similar emotions he would be seeing, reflected in her eyes and mouth. Removing one hand that had remained along her waist, Harry reached up and caressed her cheek. Curling the back of his hand, he dragged his knuckles lightly, slowly, down across her face. Seven closed her eyes, as a shot of heat exploded from within and had spread to all parts of her body. She could not believe or wrap her mind around how a simple touch could evoke such emotion. She would never be accustomed to the feeling, but they were of a kind she strongly suspected she would enjoy learning with Harry Kim. She opened her eyes and he began to whisper. "Seven, I wanted to be your candidate. I wanted to be the one to look out for you. I wanted to love you in the best way possible." His words could always reach the secret places inside her, hidden and locked away. Much healing would have to take place, too, but help was pleasantly pressed beneath her. His kisses would be a balm to her wounds, the missing pieces she would need to assemble in order for her to complete her search for humanity. "I know now, Harry. But you should know this, too: you are now mine." So soft now was her voice that he hadn't ever thought possible. At this, he smiled, just baring teeth. She did in fact have a thing about possessiveness. He had been quite jealous about the time they'd been spent together, too. But there was one more thing to say, something to which Harry needed to give light and in a way that would be completely clear to her. "You make me complete, Seven. Outside this room, people will call me Commander. But for you, I will be everything you want me to be, as I have desired you for so long. I am yours." Seven returned with a smile of her own, lighting up her face, sparkle in her eyes. "As I am Annika to you, I can no longer fathom a continued form of existence without your presence." Unvoiced thoughts now spoken and given to life, identical ones from one to the other, for different reasons, but achieving the same goal. She nodded, hovering over him now, her curves folding and melting, their bodies into one. It seemed their hands were flying across each other now, unwilling to break contact, gaining speed and urgency. They leaned to kiss again, to seal their promise to each other. Their kiss was more emphatic, unwilling to break contact, as if they were afraid of losing the moment to a dream. No dream was this good. Lips, finger light caresses, hands, soft whispers to each other, breaths against skin, the sounds of their lips, tasting, devouring, so hungry ... red, white, and blue now merging into a color of their own making, one that was uniquely theirs. Kiss now. Talk later. In that, there was full agreement. There would be a lot of catching up to do before Voyager made it home. But, it hadn't mattered to Seven or Harry. They'd already arrived. -- END -- ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Please address all comments to . Originally sent to "resistance_is_futile" at 2100h UT on Wednesday, January 17, 2001. Posted to alt.startrek.creative at 0700hUT on Sunday, January 28, 2001 with minor revisions. ----------------------------------------------------------------------