SWEET DREAMS Harry and Seven were on their way back to Voyager from their first away mission together. For the most part, it had been uneventful. They had flown for 12 hours to observe some rare Nebulae that Seven had particular interest in. (Well, Seven had said that it had possible gain or benefit, from the knowledge they would obtain, and was worth studying, but Harry had seen right through it ; she couldn't quite conceal her curiosity to him, he knew her better then anyone.) Voyager was back at a planet, negotiating trade agreements, so Harry and Seven had all the time they needed. They had gotten to the Nebulae, sent a probe in, got all the data they would need, and now they were on the way back to annalize it. It looked like this was going to be one loooong trip. Harry was somewhat disappointed; He had looked forward to spending some time with Seven, talking to her... (well, his fantasies went a little farther than talking, but in reality, he would have been perfectly satisfied with just talk.) He hadn't gotten either. Seven wasn't much of a conversationalist. Thus far, they had worked mostly in silence, monitoring their stations - excruciatingly boring work, since there was nothing to monitor... After a few hours, Seven found herself getting distracted. No, not distracted, the work was boring, but borg do not *get* bored. She wasn't distracted, she simply found it difficult to concentrate. But of course! She did the mental calculations. It had been 22.35 hours since she had last regenerated. She was... tired. Seven usually maintained her regeneration cycle, precisely, to the minute, so this problem had never presented itself before. This... tiredness, it was alien to her, and she didn't like it at all. This was not perfection, far from it in fact. She finally brought it up to Harry. "Ensign, I have not regenerated 22.35 hours, and I am not operating at peak efficiency. I must endeavor to remedy the situation." "Well..." said Harry, "I could help you put together an alcove, the shuttle's probably equipped with enough supply's-" "Unacceptable," stated Seven. "As you are aware, an alcove requires a great deal of energy to sustain, even for a short time. Though the shuttle does not lack sufficient resources, I believe it would be an inefficient use of supplies and power, which we may need in the event of an emergency." Sure, thought Harry, this inactive void of space is just Brimming with potential emergencies... But, have it your way... "Why don't you just try sleeping, like the rest of us?" He asked, feeling a little irritated, as he usually did when Seven insisted upon denying her humanity... But Seven, not being the resident expert on emotions, didn't noticed. Sleeping... The thought had crossed her mind, and, for that matter, had been quickly discarded. Sleeping the human way, did not appeal to Seven. Regeneration was bad enough; Seven simply did not like being unconscious. It was a state of vulnerability, not to mention a completely inefficient use of time. However, regeneration was tolerable: it was controlled, monitored, much more practical and efficient, and she could snap out of it in a instant, fully functional. But the human method, totally uncontrolled and unregulated, lost in a torrent of illogical dream fragments... (Not to mention that the last time Seven had slept like a human, she had waken up to the borg, and then had promptly been assimilated.) Seven didn't look forward to it. But even that may prove to be preferable to this exhaustion she was feeling now, the inability to function properly. She would just have to adapt. "Very well," said Seven, as she headed toward the bunks in the back of the shuttle. 5.27 minutes later, Harry's com badge chirped. "Ensign, I require your assistance." "On my way." Harry arrived to find Seven staring down at one of the biobeds in an analytical fashion, sizing it up, as if preparing to assimilate it ... "It won't bite," Harry informed her. "I am aware of that," Seven replied. "However, I believe I .....require an explanation of ..... how one... achieves stasis." "you mean sleep?" asked Harry, quite amused by this point. "Yes." Harry had never really thought about it before. "Well, first you might want to replicate some more comfortable clothing." Harry couldn't IMAGINE trying to sleep in that skin-tight suit Seven chose to wear, not if blood circulation was any asset to consider... (not that he hadn't imagined her doing it often enough...) "That will not be necessary," said Seven. "This garment is suitable... and comfort is irrelevant." This was going to be difficult, Harry could tell. "Ok, just lie down and relax then." Seven slid gracefully onto the biobed, and laid down perfectly straight and tense, with her arms stiffly at her sides. "Seven, this isn't a medical exam, you don't have to be so tense." "Noted," Seven replied, and visibly relaxed. "Proceed," she instructed. "Seven," Harry said, laughing, "I can't exactly tell you how, step by step... Why don't you just count sheep?" He had entirely intended that to be a joke, but leave it to Seven to take it seriously... "Ensign, for objects to be counted, they must first be present. Furthermore, I fail to see the logic in associating stasis with taking inventory of ovines." Harry was almost rolling on the ground... "Seven, counting sheep is an old earth term, sometimes practiced by children. They imagine sheep jumping over their heads as they fall asleep." "For what purpose?" "To relax their minds, " Harry replied. "But don't worry about the sheep, just relax, and think about something you've done recently, or about your goals, or about people, whatever, it doesn't matter..." "And," he added hesitantly, "Sweet dreams." He started to walk away. "I was not aware that dreams had flavor." Was this her attempt at humor? ? "It's just an expression, wishing you peaceful happy dreams," Harry replied, grinning. "The content of the dream is irrelevant," Seven stated softly, but Harry was already walking away, to the "bridge." _______________________________________________________________ Seven could not, for the life of her, fall asleep. She considered a hypo spray, but decided that though the chances of an emergency, or any occurrence whatsoever were slim, she would rather be prepared, than be intoxicated with narcotics. So, she considered Harry's advice. But, she found if difficult. It was simply against her nature to think about nothing. That problem was soon solved, however, when her thoughts continuously drifted toward Ensign - Harry Kim. She was still confused about her relationship with him; she considered him a friend. Not many had earned that title as yet. She was confused as to whether there was a romantic aspect of the relationship as well, but she lacked sufficient information on romantic relationships in general, so it was hard to tell... She had... enjoyed the last 12 hours she had spent alone with him, although she did not know how to express that to him. She thought about Harry for a while, and found that she enjoyed this mind relaxing exercise, this meaningless thinking.... The last image she saw before falling asleep was Harry, smiling at her and wishing her "sweet dreams." Seven awoke 4 hours later to the sound of a clarinet. Waking up was much like ending a regeneration cycle. Sleeping hadn't been so terrible after all. Dreaming had been... a curious sensation. Hearing Harry's clarinet now made Seven recall fragments of her dreams, which had pretty much all been about him. Waking up now, and realizing they had been just dreams, left her with a strange feeling, an empty feeling that she couldn't quite identify, but she got the sense that she wanted to be with Ensign Kim, to talk to him. Luckily, he was not far away. Seven appeared on the tiny bridge looking perfect as usual, as if she hadn't just slept for 4 hours. Harry put down his clarinet. "Rise and shine," he said with a yawn, looking exactly how she had felt 4 hours ago. Seven glanced at the viewscreen, still displaying the dark void of space, and mentally commented on how "Rise and shine" did not fit the situation here. Then, she looked back at Harry and his clarinet. "Beethoven's 42nd symphony, 3rd movement, " She observed. "Is there anything you don't know?" Harry asked, but his smile took all the malice out of it. Instead of her customary response, "I am borg," Seven mearly stated "yes," and then added, "Ensign Kim, you require sleep." "Yes," Harry agreed, almost falling asleep in his chair. "Contact me at the first sign of ... well... Anything." Then he got up and turned to go take his nap... "Of course," Replied Seven. "And... Sweet dreams." If Harry hadn't been so tired, he would have been shocked, but, as is was, he only commented, " I thought the content of dreams was irrelevant." (so he had heard her...) "Perhaps I was in Error," Seven said with a mischievous half smile, "Mine were, in fact, sweet."