From: "Baby Borg" I just completed a new story. It's a little weird, but I hope it hits the spot! BB Here it is Borg of My Heart or Harry Becomes Borg or Seven Let's her Hair Down! by: Baby Borg This is a short little K/7 story. I hope you like it. Thanks to you all. Resistance is Futile! Have a nice day! * * * "Ensign Kim, your face is flushed. Is your breathing impaired?" The cool, analytical voice could only come from Seven of Nine. 'No, you're just so goddamn beautiful I can't even look at you without thinking about how much I love you.' Oh, no. He was *not* going to say that. Aloud he merely apologized for his slip in concentration and they resumed work on fine-tuning the Astrometrics sensors. As the final adjustments were being finished, Seven turned to him, "Ensign Kim, it was called to my attention that you were engaged to be married before you were lost in the Delta Quadrant. What was she like? Libby?" Harry nearly choked as the Borg-- former Borg-- asked the question with her usual amount of tact-- or lack thereof. "Libby. Libby. Well, Libby was a very warm person. Kind, caring. Friendly, a little too friendly some times. I was the shier of us...." He trailed off, wallowing in memory. "How did you know you were in love with her?" Seven fired another question at him, breaking him out of his reverie. Harry looked at the blond woman before him. So Borg-- and yet so individual-- how would he ever win her? "I knew when.... when...." He broke off, a look of horror on his face, "Oh gods! I don't even remember when. Or why. Or how. I don't even know if I did love her." Though her facial expressions were as subtle as a Vulcan's, Seven's face clearly showed confusion. "Perhaps you merely wanted someone. Though I am not familiar with it, I understand that humans feel a need for companionship. If you were Borg, you would not be troubleouseth such irrelevant emotions." An idea hit Harry with the suddenness to leave him breathless once more. A way to win Seven. To get over Libby. And to understand all that was the woman before him. "Then make me Borg." Seven's blue eyes widened, and she actually took a step back form the apparently delusional Ensign. "Excuse me, Ensign Kim. You are not making sense." He laughed in her face. "Don't you see?! You want to understand humans. I want to understand Borg. Make. Me. Borg." Comprehension dawned on Seven's face. "You wish to have a neural transceiver implanted in your brain. I assure you, you will feel no pain. It will not be noticeable. You and I will be one." She seemed excited. "Do you want to do this, Seven?" Harry asked gently. He didn't want to force her. Seven grinned -- an actual, honest-to-god grin!-- at Harry and said. "Very much so. I have been so lonely without a Collective. Now, although it is not millions of voices, I will not be alone." She nodded her head enthusiastically. Harry could do nothing but grin back at the woman before him. So changed. Apparently a Borg alone isn't a happy Borg. Her concentration shifted and a forced look appeared on her face. Her face began to flush. "Are you ok--" She shushed his inquiry with a wave of her hand and continued her task. Moments later, a Borg device popped out of her arm and she plucked it off. It was no more than a few millimeters wide and equally long. She went to stand behind Harry brushed his hair away from his neck. She pressed something to his neck and he heard a small whir as it attached. She brushed back the hair and surveyed her work. You wouldn't even notice it. Using the Borg devices still in her body, she activated it. And they became one. 'The procedure was successful' The thought echoed in Harry's brain. Was it his, or Seven's? 'It was mine' Mine who? Mine me, or mine you? 'Just let your mind flow as it usually does. A thought is a collection of our consciousness. Do not worry, you will still have you precious individuality.' His mind sounded almost mocking. His mind or her mind? 'Our mind. Continue working' He picked up a tool and continued the modifications on Astrometrics. He found that all her vast knowledge made the task much easier. In fact, he did not even think she had needed him to help her all this time. Why had she then? 'I enjoy your company.' Definitely her mind then. Oh, sure, he enjoyed her company as well, but she sounded ashamed of it, something he never was. 'Enjoyment is irrelevant' He joked at her. Seven sighed. Her face blissfully happy. He found that her happiness carried over into his mind and he found himself grinning like a fool. 'Oh, how I have missed the Collective. Your voice is nearly as comforting as theirs.' Harry found that she had modified the link. He was now pretty sure when the thought was his or hers. Though her emotions and thoughts were still transmitted and shared by him. They finished the modifications and she departed for the Cargo Bay. Unfortunately, Harry wasn't Borg enough not to want to eat. But the prospect of stomaching Neelix's cooking on 'leola root day' was slim. He would have to deal without food, as his replicator rations were lent to Paris for a romantic meal with B'Elanna. 'You may use mine.' Seven's voice rung in his head. He didn't want to use up all her rations. 'You will not finish them. I have in my possession 3200 replicator rations. Join me in Cargo Bay 2. I will replicate a meal for us.' Harry was in the middle of a mental dance for joy when he realized she could probably hear him. He gave her an affirmative and went to his quarters to change. * * * In Cargo Bay 2 a certain Borg was puzzling over what to serve her new...new... What was he? A strange, old-fashioned term popped into her head 'Soul-mate'. What would her soul-mate want to eat? She had been so long away from the Collective it occurred to her that all she had to do was access his memory. Lasagna. What the hell is lasagna? She wondered. And then marveled at the fact that she had adopted some of his speech patterns in the process. "Computer: Lasagna for two." She searched his memory again. What the hell is 'cappuccino ice cream'? She knew what wine was, though. "And two--" Bowls? Plates? "--Bowls of Cappuccino ice cream. And a bottle of wine." *What year?* "Umm...2375?" It was more of a question that a request, but the computer whirred and the items appeared. She pushed to crates together and replicated black cloth to cover it. She set the meal out with the appropriate utensils and placing, gleaned from Ensign Kim's mind. The door to Cargo Bay 2 slid open and Harry Kim walked through. He wore a black slacks and a long sleeved shirt of deep blue. He saw Seven and noticed with disappointment, but no surprise that she was still in her brown suit, her hair twisted up tightly against her head. 'I will change.' She offered hearing his thoughts. He tried to tell her that it wasn't necessary, but she was adamant. 'I must conform to the wants of my new Collective. I will change.' She strode back over to the rarely-used replicator. 'What would be appropriate?' He picked a few items, black pants, as tight and form fitting as her suit, and a long loose shirt of sparkling silver. 'Very well I will change.' She began drawing the zipper on the front of her suit downward and he beat a hasty retreat to the other side of the room. He began an intense study of the blank bulkhead. A benefit of their mind-link was that Seven knew why he was staring at a wall. It would have been hard to explain that he couldn't watch her change because..well, you know. 'I am clothed.' It occurred to Harry that neither of them had spoken aloud since the link was activated. It *was* much more efficient He turned to regard her transformation. Her hair was loose and cascading over her shoulders in a golden waterfall. The loose shirt and stretchy pants gave her freedom of movement while looking wonderful. Seven noticed the look of happiness on his face and warmed as well. The material of the shirt was softer than her suit, and not as coarse as the wool of the regulation Starfleet uniforms. She realized this was what the humans call 'silk'. The pants were most likely a commonly used fabric called 'cotton'. While it was soft, it was not nearly as pleasing against the skin as silk was. She led him to the makeshift table and drew two smaller crates for 'chairs'. He sat down and regarded the meal before him. Lasagna, coffee ice cream, wine. His favorites. He looked at the year on the wine. 2375. A very good year. 'Is the meal satisfactory?' Her mind was worried. He realized she was anxious about him disliking her meal. 'It's wonderful, Seven.' They began to eat, him savoring the flavor of the meal, her analyzing it slowly. When they were finished with the lasagna, he told her it was customary to wait for a meal to settle slightly before desert. 'What shall we do while it is settling?' 'We talk.' He smiled at her and was gratified to see that he got another grin. It looked remarkably familiar. He realized it was an approximation of his own. She was adopting his mannerisms as a way to become more human. Very efficient. 'And now I sound like you!' He thought joyfully. Seven looked at him in a peculiar fashion. He sipped wine. A *very* good year! 'How is the vacuum today?' She asked. 'What?!' Harry was completely bewildered by her question. 'I believe it is customary to begin a conversation with a question or remark about the weather. As we are not in an atmosphere, I thought that comment would be more appropriate. Ah, you find this amusing. Perhaps I should start conversations like this more often?' He laughed again and nodded his affirmative. 'How's the vacuum?' was usually his opening joke in a tense conversation. 'Ensign Kim, I wish to continue our earlier conversation. About love. And your fiancé, Libby.' Seven sensed his intense dislike of her chosen topic. 'Or we could discuss Engineering modifications?' His relief was palpable and she found herself grinning again-- an expression she had always found pleasing when she saw it on his face. Her ability to talk so long about technical stuff without getting bored was what had first drawn him to her. Even B'Elanna had gotten tired of puzzling over hypothetical problems after a few hours. 'So, Seven, have you ever thought about time travel?' 'I have not only thought about it, I have done it.' 'Have you ever wondered what would happen if you went into the past and killed yourself?' 'Why ever would I do that?' 'Hypothetically. If you died in the past, how would you exist in the future? How would you be alive to go back and kill yourself? Would you cease to exist?' 'If you ceased to exist how could you go back and kill yourself? And if you could not go back and kill yourself, you would be alive. Would you not? Or maybe.....' Within moments both were so thoroughly engrossed in the discussion they finished their ice cream and the entire bottle of wine. They continued talking until the wee hours of the morning. * * * At 0500 Seven's alarm rang. She and Ensign Kim were jolted out of their conversation by it. 'Shit! We've been talking all night! Ugh, I'm never going to be able to stay awake on duty today. Especially if it is as boring a day as yesterday was.' Harry was, to say the least, rather upset at his current predicament. Seven, on the other hand, had a perfect solution. 'Ensign Kim, you are not required to report for duty until 0800. Correct? Well, then, you may use my regeneration alcove until then. Three hours in that is equivalent to 8 hours of conventional inefficient rest. The Borg transceiver imbedded in your skull will allow you to receive energy this way. I must regenerate as well. If you will excuse me?' She helped him hook himself up to the alcove next to hers. She settled into her own. A peaceful sensation overcame him, and his eyes closed involuntarily. At exactly 0755 her alarm rang again. Harry fairly *bounced* out of the regeneration alcove, feeling more refreshed than he had in weeks. 'Time to get up, Seven!' He cheerily informed her, though the half-Borg woman was already awake. 'I am well aware of that, Ensign Kim. I heard the alarm.' She changed back into her brown suit and he replicated himself a fresh uniform. They exited the Cargo Bay together and reported to their respective posts. * * * "G'morning, Starfleet. Don't we look like the cat who ate the canary?" Harry turned around and grinned at her. "Morning, B'Ela. And same to you. I take it you enjoyed Tom's dinner plans?" Chief Engineer B'Elanna Torres smiled back at her 'kid brother' as she was fond of thinking of him. "Yeah, the dinner was fine. But..." She trailed off, letting him finish the well-known refrain, "It was what came after the dinner that's got you smilin'. Yeah, B'Ela, we all know how much you and Tom love dessert." He laughed and she laughed with him. During the first hesitant days of Tom and B'Elanna's relationship, he had been dishing out advice to both of them. In the process he had learned much more than he ever wanted to know about their off-duty endeavors. "So when is Tom going to pay me back my replicator rations? He borrowed all of them to use on you." B'Elanna's face twisted around to form a disgusted look that Klingon ridges only enhanced. "You had to eat Neelix's cooking on Leola root day? Poor baby!" He mimicked her expression, then smiled. "No, it's okay, Seven bought be dinner." B'Elanna's face darkened slightly and her voice gained a sarcastic edge. "Did she offer to 'copulate' with you again? Did you accept this time?" Harry's face flushed a deep burgundy and stammered, "H..How did y..you know?!" "Tom talks in his sleep." She made a wry face, "Seriously? Chakotay told me." "And how, pray tell, did he find out? I only told him we had a disagreement." Harry was mad, but not at B'Elanna, at himself, for being so stupid and misjudging Seven's intentions so badly. She only offered to copulate because she thought it would please him. Only last night had she told him how much his refusal had hurt her. "Seven made a full confession," B'Elanna sneered at him. "And don't you snap at me, Starfleet. I was having a *very* good day until you came along." She drew in a deep breath to continue the argument. Harry held up a hand to silence her. "Let's just forget about this one, B'Ela. Truce?" He extended the hand he had shushed her with and she shook it firmly. "Truce." "Shall we go to Engineering, m'lady? I have some work to do there." He offered his arm gallantly, and she took it with a grin. The warp core was already purring like a kitten under the ministrations of Joe Carey and crew when B'Elanna and Harry arrived, arm-in-arm, silly grins on their faces and chatting about old times. Unexpectedly, though, Seven of Nine was also working in Engineering, rerouting power from the secondary EPS conduits to compensate for the extra energy expended by the use of the other Borg alcove. Her blue eyes widened incredulously when Harry and B'Elanna made their appearance. She addressed them in her usual blunt manner. "Ensign Kim, Lieutenant Torres. Your behaviors are inconsistent with the knowledge I possess regarding the nature of your affiliation. Lieutenant Torres is seeing Lieutenant Paris, and last I checked, you, Ensign, were making romantic overtures towards me. Has this changed?" Harry spoke directly into Seven's mind, hoping to avert another confrontation between the two women. 'Seven, we're friends. This is what good friends do. Don't worry, I'm still chasing you.' She answered in his mind. 'I am not worried.' Aloud she merely said. "Ah, I understand now. You are friends. Continue with your tasks. Resistance is Futile. Have a nice day." B'Elanna's eyes bulged. "What was that all about? You sounded like Harry!" Seven analyzed her last sentence carefully. Yes, it had sounded like Ensign Kim's rather off-beat humour, most likely learned from Lieutenant Paris. "It did resemble Ensign Kim's sense of humour. I suppose the proper phrase would be that he is 'rubbing off on me'. I will correct the error if you wish, Sir." The 'Sir' was added after a mental nudge from Harry reminded her that Engineering was, in his word's, B'Elanna's "lair". B'Elanna softened somewhat toward the girl. She was brash, often offending, but she really did aim to please. And she had to admit, being around Harry was having a positive effect. For both of them. Kim seemed more confident and more at ease than he had since Seven came on board. She wondered if they *had* slept together. Would Harry tell her? Would Seven? "Hey, it's all right, Seven. I guess Harry's a good influence on you. And another thing, I'm all for formality and protocol, but if you're that good friends with Harry, call me B'Elanna." She grinned, "Or B'Ela. Tom and Harry seem to be fond of that nickname." Seven grinned, and B'Elanna nearly fell over. "Sure, B'Ela." Seven said in the easy, familiar tone Harry always used around Lieutenants Paris and Torres. "That was wonderful, Seven. But I have work to do. I'll meet you for lunch?' She agreed. 'Okay, I'll see you, Seven. Love you.' He immediately noticed his slip. But it was too late. She had heard, and she knew he meant it. 'I love you too, Ensign. I will see you at lunch.' She returned his comment of affection, sure that she meant it. He was her friend, her 'Soul-mate'. He knew her innermost thoughts. It was not possible for her *not* to be in love with him. Was it? How many times had he told Libby he loved her? How many times had she returned it. Only to find out years later that they never really loved each other. Seven mentally shook herself. Harry meant it. She could tell. He also did not want to pursue their relationship in a sexual manner. At least not for now. That was satisfactory to her. She was not ready to complicate an already complicated relationship with an act that seemed to only cause more 'wheels-within-wheels', as Harry would say. Seven realized with a start that in the last few seconds, he had gone for 'Ensign Kim' her colleague and friend, to 'Harry' her soul-mate and lover. It gave her a warm feeling that was also coming from Harry's joyful mental shouts of 'She loves me! She loves me! Whoo-hoo!' ' 'Whoo-hoo' indeed, Harry' She thought at him, and he bid her and B'Elanna farewell and began his work. She began working with B'Elanna. Who soon began a no-longer-meaningless conversation. No-longer-meaningless because Harry was the subject of the conversation. "So, Seven, what's up with you and Harry?" Her bright sunny tone still betrayed her intense curiosity. "Do you give your word to keep it confidential?" Seven asked, Captain Janeway probably wouldn't be pleased to hear that Seven had been assimilating her crew. "I swear on my favourite bat'leth. Nothing leaves this room." B'Elanna put a hand over her heart, only half joking. "I assimilated him." She stated it with the calm air of a Borg. "You've got to be kidding! Nanoprobes and the whole nine yards, eh? Or just the transceiver?" B'Elanna's face registered shock, but she was smiling. "Just the transceiver. It was his idea. He believed it would help me become more human, and help him understand my Borg side. No one else has aver wanted to know about being Borg. They just wanted me to become human. Like them. Even Captain Janeway. Harry really let me be individual. That's why I love him." That revelation hit B'Elanna like a slap in the face. Seven in love? The idea was almost ludicrous. And with Harry? Harry was a nice guy, but not at all what B'Elanna would have thought a Borg would go for. "You love him? He loves you? That's great! I'm real happy for you. I hope you get to sleep with him soon. I know from experience tha the is quite adept at that particualr art form. Don't worry though, it's ancient history." Seven nodded and smiled at her. B'Elanna was struck by an idea. "Say, Seven? Do you think you could do that assimilating thing on Tom and me?" [THE END]