NEW: Add Seven 1/? [R] VOY (7/K) Title: Add Seven (Lucifer's Bloom) Author: Michael Roy Hollihan Series: VOY Part: NEW 1/? Rating: [R] Codes: 7/K Summary: An unusual perfume sends Seven of Nine into a dark and disturbing downward spiral--centered on Harry Kim. Archivist: No archiving, please. Disclaimer: Star Trek: Voyager and its characters are the property of Paramount. This story is mine and is not intended for profit. All rights not Paramount's are the author's. No archiving, reposting, publishing, or other distribution without prior consent. ======================== Dear Reader, This is the first fanfic story I've been able to finish since last winter. Personal problems choked off my muse rather brutally, but they are slowly being put behind me and I'm writing again. It's slower, not as much fun as it once was, but it feels good. This story is a structural/multimedia experiment. Numerous favorite songs are used as touchstones. Each ties lyrically and thematically into this story--inspiration working both ways--and some tie in musically (the human/machine interface that is Seven of Nine). Ideally, you should listen to the songs while reading this story. If I had the technology and time, I would have burned a CD of the songs so you could play them as you read. I guess you'll just have to settle for having the lyrics. ;-) As always, comments, criticisms, observations or opinions--positive or negative--are welcomed, public and private. Please let me know what you think. Mike Hollihan hollihan@bellsouth.net ======================= Add Seven (Lucifer's Bloom) Michael Roy Hollihan (c) 2000 In fear every day, every evening, He calls her aloud from above. Carefully watched for a reason, Painstaking devotion and love. Surrendered to self-preservation From others who care for themselves. A blindness that touches perfection, But hurts just like anything else. Isolation. Isolation. Isolation. Mother, I tried, please believe me. I'm doing the best that I can. I'm ashamed of the things I've been put through; I'm ashamed of the person I am. Isolation. Isolation. Isolation. But if you could just see the beauty. These things I could never describe. These pleasures a wayward distraction. Is this my one lucky prize? Isolation. Isolation. Isolation. Isolation. Isolation. ("Isolation," Joy Division) Seven of Nine divided her attention between spooning up her vegetable soup and watching the crewmembers milling around the Mess Hall. She sat as she always did, at her table in the corner, always the observer. She didn't derive enjoyment from studying their interactions--it was more a preference for being alone and an adaptation to frequently finding herself in that state. But she did find the crew to be, in Tuvok's characteristic word, "fascinating." As she methodically worked down the level of her soup, Seven focused her particular study on Ensign Harry Kim. She kept a timeline of sorts of the changing character of Ensign Kim's responses to her. While she felt for him much as she always had, his behaviors had evolved, if not his fundamental desire. She was used to ignoring men (and a few women) finding her sexually desirable, but some quality in Ensign Kim that she could never identify made his case special. She had always been willing to copulate with him--it meant little more than any other biological function--but resisted emotional intimacy, preferring not to delve into that problematic area. Ensign Kim desired intimacy before copulation, insisting it was necessary; she demurred. Seven remained steadfast; Harry did not. In the beginning, he had been frankly and rather childishly attracted to her, and almost (as she later learned to name it) comically intimidated. After a time, as she had been integrated into Voyager's crew, assuming duties in Engineering, he became more collegial, still remaining attracted. Now that she had had her first date--with Lt. Chapman, and not him--and was growing in her social skills, he became diffident. There was now an almost wary distance between them; he no longer arranged to be paired with her on assignments. Seven could detect the changes in respiration, skin temperature and ocular dilation he always experienced around her. Still, he denied any further attraction. She found it perplexing, but no more so than any other humanoid behaviors she observed. It was only her personal involvement that kept her interested. Tonight, he was sitting with Ensign Paris and B'Elanna Torres. Their relationship, she noted, had also cooled lately. There were no more "midnight duets," as Ayala referred to the sounds of their strenuous sex. Still, Seven saw clearly that they were affectionate with each other-- sitting closely, touching, seeming to understand thoughts and feelings without having to verbalise them. They were passing into the more long-term, and calmer, part of a relationship's arc. At least according to the Doctor's lessons. Ensign Kim, too, seemed relaxed. Usually, when the two of them were in the same room together, he looked at her every seven seconds. This evening, he had only smiled and waved at her when he entered the Mess Hall and then ignored her. He appeared to be sharing some important news with Ensign Paris and B'Elanna Torres, to judge from his demeanor and level of excitation. She would make inquiries later. A subconscious part of her mind noted that the last spoonful of soup was mere drops. She stopped and looked down into her now-empty bowl. Her meal completed, she took her dishes and utensils to the reclamator and walked directly out of the Mess Hall, sparing only a sidewise glance at an animated Ensign Kim. Seven rounded the corner into Corridor Twelve, Section Nineteen to find her way blocked by the Delaney sisters, Megan and Jenny. She stopped, casting a skeptical eye on their giggly conversation, waiting for them to notice her and then stand aside. They were oblivious, excitedly sharing several small phials and boxes. After a moment, though, Jenny started. Megan also turned, quickly sharing a secret smile with her sister before saying to Seven, "Sorry. We were examining our treasure trove." Seven looked closer at the tiny glass and lacquer containers, seeing no evidence of intrinsic value greater than their function as containers. She asked, "Are they works of art?" Megan giggled some more. "No, silly." "Well, of the perfumer's art, maybe," Jenny added. "Neelix got these scents today from a salesman in the market on Remonax IV, when he was shopping for supplies." "An unremarkable world. Species 1423." Megan pulled a stopper from one phial and held it out toward Seven's nose. "Isn't this a lovely fragrance?" A strong but not unpleasant smell wafted to her. She examined the scent with her olfactory processors. "Two oils and seven other floral fragrances. What makes it 'lovely?'" Megan's eyes widened in disbelief. "It's heavenly! If that doesn't make a man swoon, send him to the Doctor." She poured a small drop on a finger and spread it behind both ears. "Why would you send a man to the Doctor if he resists being influenced by chemical assault? Is that not the preferable response?" "Seven," Jenny sighed, "only for you. No wonder Harry gave up on you." The sudden change of topic baffled Seven. Harry Kim was obviously still sexually attracted to her, but how did his self-effacing dissimulations equal "giving up?" Seven opened her mouth to ask that question, but Jenny continued, "It's just as well, because now he can concentrate on me." Concern flickered to life in Seven. This was a new development, so far as she knew. But then, humanoid' seemingly fluid relationships always surprised her. Their socio-sexual behaviors defied Seven's ability to analyse them; she only knew that asking the necessary questions prompted either amusement or upset. She closed her mouth on what she had intended to ask. Jenny opened one of the small, black lacquer boxes. It was full of a pale purple, crystalline powder than glinted in the light. She tapped a small amount onto her palm then held it to her nose, inhaling deeply and with obvious satisfaction. "Neelix said this one reacts to each person's biochemistry, creating a scent that's both unique to you and changes with your moods. You're supposed to put it on after a shower, when your skin is still wet; it's adsorbed." She held the jewel-like box to Seven. "Try some." "It is unlikely that I would derive any functionality from it. My nanoprobes would isolate and deactivate its chemical reactions." "Oh, pooh," Megan said. She wet a finger, dipped it into the amethyst crystals in her sister's still-extended hand and then rubbed a circular patch on the side of Seven's neck. "Now we'll see." Seven was taken aback by Megan's action, the familiarity of it, the *invasiveness* of it, but it was too late to do anything. She would monitor herself for any changes during the next few hours. Megan whispered something into Jenny's ear and they both giggled again. Walking around Seven, shoulder to shoulder and laughing, they left her, with Megan saying, "Let us know what happens!" Seven stared after them a moment before continuing to the haven of Cargo Bay Two. Humans were very baffling. === And when I think of all the times I tried to make you understand The truth possessed within these lines, Within the soul I left behind. No fears for consequence remain. The razor cuts, We're free again. The shining hour redefined. Cloud nine, white line, I'm on adrenaline. Another gift from God. Breathing deep religiously. Dust. Sphinctering inside of me. Light speed, intensity; Driven by its purity. The shining hour redefined. Cloud nine, white line, this time, I'm on adrenaline. I'm on adrenaline. I'm told that eyes are the windows of the soul. God speed be with you. Drawn inside by razor lines, Cut, and not muffled from the ledge. Inches beyond the edge. Indications start to shine. Cloud nine, white line, this time-- I'm on adrenaline. I'm on adrenaline. I'm on adrenaline. ("Adrenaline," Rosetta Stone) Seven ran a system diagnostic on her personal computer in Cargo Bay Two. It was always the last thing she did before stepping into her regeneration alcove. As she turned to step into her station, she remembered the perfume from that evening. Although Seven had felt no adverse effects since, she decided to check herself. A quick tricorder sweep and she watched the readouts. Elevated adrenals, dopamines and neurotransmitters; decreased serotonins; the omicron, tau, and mu nanoprobe classes were in a slightly more active state; heartbeat and respiration were also slightly up. Activity consistent with her nervousness and the processing of the perfume crystals. She was confident, and a bit secure, in her diagnostic self-reliance. Nothing was so far out of normal range as to warrant a visit to the Doctor, for which she grudged a certain gratitude. She cleared the tricorder and stepped up to her regeneration station, waiting for the "snick" of the vertebral interfaces seating themselves. The regeneration systems took over; she closed her eyes, settling in. Seven's eyes snapped open. She was confused, but there was no computer warning of abnormal termination. "Computer, has the regeneration cycle completed?" "Affirmative." "Time?" "It is oh-seven-hundred hours." She had finished a normal cycle. Usually, she had some sense of passing time, of rest and awakening, of transition. This time, she felt as though nothing had occurred. Something seemed wrong. And yet, she felt in optimum efficiency. Exhilarated, even. The emotional referent stopped her. This one was new to her, and she took a moment to let herself experience this particular combination of physio-psychological states. During her time in the Borg, she had never felt anything but the satisfaction of being part of the Collective. All other emotions were suppressed by the weight of the Borg consciousness or controlled by Borg discipline. Their constantly fluctuating nature made drones inefficient; hence emotions were made irrelevant. Since becoming a part of Voyager, she had experienced more emotions than she had names for. They had caused her no end of difficulties. Dealing with them internally was problem enough, but the crew's endless and often contradictory advice only seemed to increase her emotional variability. Tuvok and the Doctor--the two beings least influenced by emotion--gave her some help, but it was the volatile Captain Janeway who most often assisted her. Perhaps she would go to the Captain and share this with her. Seven had seen this feeling of exhilaration in other crewmembers and recognised it to be very special. It usually accompanied some unique event or news that was especially significant to that crewmember. But she also had seen it occur for no discernable reason. This seemed to be the case with her, this morning. Chakotay had once admonished her not to force him to analyse himself, when she had queried him in a similar circumstance, saying that exhilaration was sometimes fragile and easily disrupted. She decided to imitate him, to accept it and to explore and enjoy it. As she strode through Voyager's corridors, every sensation seemed to have an exaggerated effect. Colors were clearer and brighter, sounds more pleasing, smells more stimulating. When she noticed how every crewman she passed smiled at her, she realised she was smiling herself. Her steps were surer and swifter, her awareness of her body--its position, movements, balance, even her skin--heightened. It was very pleasant. "Seven!" Neelix intercepted her as she entered the Mess, pulling her to the counter. "You seem very chipper this morning." "I am." Even though the aromas from his foodstuffs and the simmering pots seemed to infiltrate her brain and almost bodily lift her, she was curiously not hungry. "I only require a cup of tea this morning." "As you wish." He poured a fragrant, steaming mug of dark green tea. "What has you so happy today?" Neelix leaned in closer and nudged her elbow with his own. "Has love finally found our favorite Borg?" She stared at him. "Why do you say that?" "Because, when someone comes in here looking as happy as you do today, it's usually love." "You are incorrect." Neelix kept on. "Then you must have gotten up on the right side of the bed, as the humans say." "I do not sleep in a bed--" Neelix rolled his eyes, giving up. "I know. Well, whatever it is, enjoy it." He patted her back and went over to talk to crewman Parkhurst. "I am exhilarated--" she started to say, but he was gone. Seven turned and scanned the room, preparatory to going to her usual table. Harry saw her and waved her over to the empty seat across from him. She selected a banality. "How are you today, Ensign Kim?" "Obviously not as good as you are." His smile was wide as he gazed at her. "Is my appearance so unusual?" "You aren't known for smiling, Seven. It sort of stands out. On you." She found herself studying his lips, the curve of them, the thin ridge between the pink of his mouth and his olive skin, the competing pull of tiny muscles. "You look good when you smile," he said. A deep warmth spread outward from her chest. Instead of embarrassment, it was pleasure. Her attention flicked to his eyes. "Thank you," she said. His dark eyes locked with hers for a moment before he ducked his head, stabbing at the eggs on his plate. The heat in her chest was spreading outward, downward, into her stomach and groin. It was a powerful sensation, washing over her with strength and undeniability. Feeling a pull not unlike gravity, but with an aching quality, she moved her study to the rest of his face, which seemed quite attractive this morning. She had never noticed how smooth his skin was. Most human males his age had wrinkles or small scars, but Harry's skin had an unmarked quality not unlike her own. Without thinking, she reached out with her left hand, the Borg-enhanced one, and trailed her fingers down his cheek. The touch was electric. Harry jerked up and back, glancing wildly around him to see who might be looking. "Seven!" He dropped his fork and grabbed her hand, pulling it down to the table. He held it there; she carefully wiggled her fingers to feel the counterstrain of his grip, beginning to revel in what she was feeling. "What's gotten into you this morning?" he hissed as he leaned toward her. Even angry as he was now, his youthful face undercut his intensity. He still hadn't released her hand, she noted. She was captivated. "You are a handsome man, Harry Kim." He shook his head ruefully, finally letting her go. Her fingers kept their position, as though held by the ghost of him. "Seven, you are a wonder." He stood up with his tray, laughing lightly and fixing her with those dark almond eyes. "Enjoy your day." She watched him depart, wanting to follow him like a stray moon in the pull of a larger planet. Studying the flex of his muscles from shoulders to back to buttocks, she whispered, "I believe I shall." Seven found her day flying by. Every interaction with crew was a delight; every assignment was a fresh and exciting challenge. All the peculiarities of humanoid behavior that vexed, confused or irritated her before were now amusing. Even Captain Janeway laughed at something she said that was an intentionally humorous remark. She had never known such a sense of effortless fitting-in among the crew. Almost effortless. All day, her thoughts kept returning to Harry. Her hand still remembered the touch of him, the smoothness of his skin, the grasp of his hand closing over hers. She heard his voice in overheard snatches of conversation, but he wasn't there. She saw his face reflected in consoles, but when she turned, again, he wasn't there. And yet, he was always in her thoughts--a constant, but not unwelcome, distraction. With her newly-sharpened senses, she replayed his expressions from their breakfast. The quiet smile, the surprise, the flash of anger, the embarrassment, the soft pleasure. Why had she never before noticed the myriad nuances in his face? She began to do something she had never done: imagine. What if her first date had been with him instead of Lt. Chapman? Their conversation would certainly have been more interesting. Likely he would have been more at ease than the hapless lieutenant. She could see his easy smile and warm eyes sitting across from her. Why had she not chosen him? Seven could no longer remember any valid reason. She remembered her brief dance with Chapman, but tried replacing him with Harry. Imagining his arms around her, his eyes close and searching, his lips only inches from hers. . . . Her heart was pounding, throbbing, in her chest; her respiration was deep and oxygenating. Her whole skin . . . tingled. Harry had never before engendered this type of response from her. Why was she now so aroused by him? Did exhilaration do this to a person? Did it have something to do with his recent coolness to her? She had once heard Ensign Wildman say "We often want what we cannot have." In her studies of human literature, she learned this was a frequent, if paradoxical, occurrence. Was his waning interest somehow engendering this peculiar response? Her whole being *yearned* for her to do something. She was reluctant to release herself from this state--it had much to recommend it. But, she had to alter her relationship with Harry. Her desire for him was undeniable. If she approached him now, would he be receptive? He must be--her feelings for him would be unmistakable and he would give in. She felt convinced that now was the time. The phrase "nothing ventured, nothing gained" popped into her mind. It sounded like something Ensign Paris might say and she wondered why she thought of it now. But in her newly buoyant state it made a certain sense. If she took what the Doctor had tried to teach her and let Harry instruct her in its practical application, maybe she could have that slow dance, with his arms around her, pressing and embracing her . . . . Once again, she was nearly overwhelmed by her body's response. Her thoughts were ruining her efficiency. Best to talk to Harry right away than to keep living with this rising delirium, pleasant though it was to her. He would know what to do, would provide the anode to her cathode. "Computer, locate Ensign Kim." "Ensign Kim is in the Astrometrics Lab." Excellent, she thought. They would both be at ease in that familiar location, with its shared history for them. It might even symbolically reinforce what she hoped to propose. She immediately made her way there. === Eye to eye, the winners and losers. Hurt by envy, cut by greed. Face to face with bounty's illusion, The stars look forward, romance is tangled sheets. And when, blow by blow, The passion dies, It's later then just half-realise, The memories of gone-by times. But still recall the lines: The first cut won't hurt at all. The second only makes you wonder. The third will have you on your knees. You start leaving, I start screaming. It's too late, the decision is made by fate. Time to prove what forever should last. Who's feelings are so true? Asked to stand the test. Whose demands are so strong As to parry all attacks? And when, blow by blow, The passion dies, It's later then just half-realise, The memories of gone-by times. But still recall the lines: The first cut won't hurt at all. The second only makes you wonder. The third will have you on your knees. You start leaving, I start screaming. ("Duel," Propaganda) So wrapped up in her thoughts was she that Seven was several steps into the Lab before she actually saw what was happening. Harry was bent over the main computer console explaining something to Jenny Delaney, who was standing almost shoulder-to-shoulder with him, her head also bent over and inclined toward him. His right hand was resting in the small of her back, a gesture of intimacy Seven recognised from Tom and B'Elanna's courtship. He turned his head slightly and kissed her. And it was as if she had unexpectedly fallen off a cliff or taken a severe blow to the stomach, so visceral was her reaction. Seven felt as though every nanoprobe in her body had coagulated into a cold, mechanical lump in her stomach, a machine that also seized up violently. Bouncing off some invisible wall protecting them, she stumbled back a step and had only a moment to regain some composure before Harry turned around. "Seven, hi," he said. His warm--so sensual--smile was quickly replaced by a look of concern. "Are you alright?" Jenny looked back over her shoulder at Seven with an unreadable expression. "I was not expecting anyone--else. . . to be here, Ensign. I was surprised." She strode toward them with her hands clasped behind her back, trying hard to keep her boiling emotions from showing on her face. Her world was suddenly thrown upside down and she was determined not to be beaten. She was Borg--she could master anything. "Jenny and I were just going over some data for the Captain. Maybe you could help us?" Jenny's eyes flicked from Harry to Seven, narrowing. Seven recognised the territorial response. Realisation came, cold and clear. They were now a couple. The dead machine in her stomach lurched to life. How could she have been so foolish? She could not stand here. They would quickly understand her ridiculous intention. It might provoke more territorial behaviors from Jenny. "I-- No, I must leave." She spun quickly on her heels, but not fast enough to avoid seeing Jenny Delaney take Harry's arm in both her hands. Seven retreated to the corridor. Once safely outside, she collapsed against the wall, drained by the surging emotions storming inside her. Stunned and sick, she fled to Cargo Bay Two. === There's nothing you can choose. No obsession to lose. I watch it slip away from you. Don't believe it. Pull the window down. Rows and rows of shining, silent stones. If I hit you with a hammer Would you disappear, just like you should? Ohh, something better come true. Said I know something better will come to me here. Then the darkness falls, Cannot see it all. All the things surround me within my reach-- Supposed to do, make good and.... I go through the ceiling now. Don't have time, but I don't know how. I'm not doing anything, 'Cept I'm counting one, two and three. Ooh, something better come true. Said I know something better will come to me, to me, to.... ("Something Better," O Positive) SEVEN BROODS OVER HARRY'S CHANGE OF HEART. Of course. She understood. He had found another. Her opportunity had passed. The detachment of study was impossible now. Seven leaned over the computer console, all her weight on her hands resting flat on its surface. She tried hard to draw a breath that wouldn't come. Before she could stop it, deep sobs escaped her and she was crying. Heedless of the tears spattering on the computer, she fought to grab hold of the whirling thoughts and feelings storming through her. Surprise, pain, grief, anger, ache, confusion; sharp and dull, elevating and crushing, battering her around and dragging her under some dark current. Trying to see through eyes still filled with tears, the drops on her computer seemed like glittering points of light, the constellation of her pain. She should have known; the evidence was there. Certainly, she had seen it happen with others on Voyager. Like all humans, Harry's fickle temperament, his thwarted longing for her, a charged cloud seeking discharge, had finally found its ground, had struck elsewhere. Had struck Jenny Delaney. Seven brought a hand to her face, dragging it over the twin tear tracks and the mucus leaking from her nose. She sniffed experimentally. Her eyes hurt. Her whole *being* hurt. Except for the vacuum in the center of her chest. She felt nothing there. When she explored the edges of the hole, she found it was in the shape of her now-gone joy at the realisation of her feelings for Harry. What had bloomed so suddenly and wonderfully, so unexpectedly, was now withering and dying as she stood. It wasn't fair. She was ready, she *wanted* him, and he was no longer available. Instead of Harry and Seven of Nine, it was Harry and Jenny. Out of some now-obscured part of her mind, an equation presented itself. It was exquisite, revelatory, in its simplicity. Subtract Jenny, add Seven, and you now had Harry and Seven. But how? Her tears dried, the storms inside her quieted as she turned herself to this solution. It wasn't a question of availability, as Seven was always ready to have intercourse with Harry. As she understood it, she was probably more so than Jenny Delaney, who was like most humanoid women in requiring elaborate courtship rituals. It was the rituals themselves which she rejected out of hand. If she participated in the rituals, and was more desirable than Jenny, then she could return Harry's affections to her. It was so simple, so clear, she was certain of her analysis. "Computer, locate Ensign Kim." Seven realised she was still slumped over and straightened her posture, reapplying the veneer she always wore. "Ensign Kim is in the Holodeck." "What program is currently running?" "The Sandrine's simulation." "Is Ensign Kim alone?" "Unable to answer. Please restate the question." She thought it over a moment. "Is anyone within a meter of his position?" That would be inside his personal space. "Affirmative." "Identify." "Crewman Jenny Delaney." Of course. Courtship rituals intended to increase intimacy often paradoxically included much time spent in social situations. No one had been able to satisfactorily explain this to her. Seven considered. She was superior to Jenny Delaney in all physical and intellectual measures. To judge by crew comments she had overheard, Seven was at least as sexually attractive. Harry's desire was focused on Jenny, so she must divert it to herself. She would need to present herself in a way that would draw Harry's attention. Seven accessed Voyager's databases and set up search parameters. As data began to flow, she absorbed all of it and refined her quest. She worked with a speed, efficiency and concentration that a part of her mind found impressive. Mere minutes later, she had an idea of what she needed. Drawing from her large store of unused credits, she next set the replicator to work. She would surprise them all; she would captivate Harry. Jenny would be forgotten and he would be hers. Subtract Jenny and add Seven. === She's got a face that shows that she knows she's heard every line. Tenderly she talks on the phone. There's a way to walk that says "Stay away." Ain't it time to go better the long way? A girl in trouble is a temporary thing. A girl in trouble is a temporary thing. There's a time when every girl learns to use her head. Tears will be saved 'til they're better spent. There's no time to be 'fraid, so instead, She takes care of business, keeps a cool head. A girl in trouble is a temporary thing. A girl in trouble is a temporary thing. ("A Girl in Trouble is a Temporary Thing," Romeo Void) Walk away. parelk the wire. And my heels are burning in the flames.... ("Jesus or a Gun," Fuel) ....There's a club if you'd like to go. You could meet somebody who really loves you. But you go and you stand on your own. And you leave on your own. And you go home and you cry and you want to die. . . . ("How Soon Is Now," The Smiths) SEVEN GOES TO SANDRINE'S TO SEDUCE HARRY AND IS HUMILIATED. SHE TRIES TO USE LT. CHAPMAN TO MAKE HARRY JEALOUS, BUT HER PHYSICAL/EMOTIONAL RESPONSE TO THE DISPLAYS OF LOVE/ATTRACTION OVERWHELM HER, AND SHE EMBARRASSES HERSELF. Seven stepped into the corridor outside Cargo Bay Two feeling both more uncomfortable and more powerful than she had ever known. She had checked herself a dozen times and could find no obvious flaw, but there were subtleties to her present appearance that another crewman would instantly identify if she had them wrong. Lieutenant Joe Carey walked around the corner, eyes fixed to the padd he carried. Seven stepped in front of him. "Examine my appearance. Is it correct?" Joe looked up, blinked, ran his eyes up and down a couple of times, blinked again, reddened, coughed, then said, "Um, what?" Seven examined his responses minutely. His face was very flush; his hands trembled. He couldn't keep his eyes off the parts of her breasts that were exposed in the cut of her dress. Heartbeat and respiration increased markedly; dilation was extreme and rapid. He appeared very definitely aroused. A twitching in the pubic area of his uniform confirmed it. "My appearance," she repeated, "does it have any flaws?" He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, face contorted in discomfort. "No, oh no. You, um, you look stunning." "I do not wish to stun anyone. He must remain conscious, for me to captivate him." "Well, captivating is a good word, too. You'll definitely have all eyes on you, in that dress. What did you do to your hair?" She touched the small, flowered clip that held her hair in loose curls to the side of her face. "I have let it down. Is this style correct?" "Oh, very." Joe waved the padd in front of his face like a fan. "You look perfect, Seven." Nodding to accept the compliment, she said, "Thank you, lieutenant." She nodded again and proceeded to the Holodeck. Crewman Ayala passed her, wide-eyed, and turned to watch her walking away, bumping into Carey as he did so. Seven paused on the other side of the corner to listen. "Sorry, Joe," Ayala said. "I got sidetracked." "Yeah," he said, nodding after Seven. "Red alert." "What's up with her?" "She's out to 'captivate' someone, she said." Ayala raised his eyebrows in invitation. "Shall we follow and see?" Carey cracked a lop-sided smile. "Yeah, I don't wanna miss this." Satisfied, she continued on her way. Outside the Holodeck, she examined herself one last time in the reflection of the computer panel. She wore her hair in a similar style to the one the Hirogen had her wear during the Terran World War Two simulation. After rejecting many outfit designs, she had finally settled on a simple black dress--one cut deep in the front, slit high up the right side and sleeveless, to expose the maximum of her flesh. It was also tight, although much less so than either her Borg exo-skin or the Doctor's garments. Her exhilaration returned, in a new and steely form. She was certain now she could captivate Harry. The Holodeck door sensed her approach and swished open; she crossed the threshold. The room was noisy and crowded. Ensign Paris and several others were grouped around the pool table; more filled the bar. Every table had several people around it. She did not immediately see Harry. As she strode across the room, heads began to turn and the volume of the room dropped by decibels. She was intensely aware of this change but did not react to it. Passing the pool table, she smiled at Ensign Paris. "Good evening, Ensign." He pulled his mouth shut and blushed deeply. "Seven. You look, um, different tonight." She executed a maneuver she had seen in several of the files she studied. Holding her elbows close to her hips, she extended her hands and twirled around, as though walking a very tight circle. She ended the turn with her right leg slightly bent and her foot pointed on the floor. "Do you approve of the change?" The pool cue he was holding dropped to the floor forgotten. His face, his whole body, was frozen, stunned. This, she realised, was captivation. She had been aware of the distraction that her appearance caused and had ignored it as irrelevant. But now that her sexuality was her weapon, she delved deep into its power. She took two short steps so that she was within inches of Ensign Paris, looked frankly into his eyes, and ran a fingertip along the felt of the table. "Perhaps you could retrieve your cue and teach me how to play pool? I have never learned." Tom scrambled to retrieve it, and she noticed the intense scrutiny he gave her naked legs as he did so. It wasn't difficult to suppress a smile of satisfaction, as she was consciously keeping her lips apart--another lesson picked up in the volumes of fashion data she had absorbed. Part of her mind was continuously running down a checklist of behaviors she was adopting tonight; it was repetitive but not taxing. Tom handed her another cue. She took it and began to stroke its length. Human men frequently had sympathetic autoerotic responses to manipulation of phallus-shaped objects. She kept her eyes unwaveringly on Tom's face. He was struggling tose ntain his demeanor, and losing. "Um, well," he began, "you should get the hang of this pretty quickly. It's all simple geometry and force physics." He stumbled his way around the table, bumping into the other men who were drawing closer. Tom pointed quickly to the white ball as he lined up a shot. "You can only strike the cue ball. You use it to hit the ball you actually want to move, into one of the pockets." Much as she was doing with Tom, she realised. She scanned the room briefly for any sign of Harry. Although there were now many men near her, Harry was not among them. "Why don't you take solids," Tom was saying, "and I'll keep stripes." "That is acceptable." She studied the table and the arrangement of balls, mapping positions and angles quickly. Tom demonstrated how to hold the cue on the table. As she bent over to make her shot, an audible intake of breath, many breaths, made her pause. When she saw that she herself was being studied by the men, or more precisely her exposed flesh, she lined up her shot and snapped it off. The cue ball smacked into another, which sank solidly into a corner pocket Seven straightened and raised an eyebrow. "Is that acceptable?" His eyes flew from her breasts to her face. "Oh! Um, yeah, sure." "Tom!" Seven recognised the voice and knew the lesson was at an end. B'Elanna Torres was standing just inside the ring of people around the pool table, arms crossed and with a facial expression Seven knew that crewmembers in Engineering went to great lengths to run away from. "Tom, I want to talk with you right now." She cast a cold, menacing eye on Seven. "What in hell are *you* doing?" Seven remained calm, feeling very in control now. "I am learning a new game." She laid the pool cue on the table as she walked past the flustered Tom. "I look forward to future lessons." With a coy smile borrowed from Tom himself, she brushed past him and walked to the bar. "'Allo, mon cherie," Sandrine said. She waved a hand with a brushing motion at Crewman Xao, who quickly vacated his stool. Seven slid onto it, carefully crossing her legs--making sure that her outside leg exposed the vast plane of her thigh. "And what can I get you?" Sandrine asked. "Water is sufficient." She ignored the scandalised look that earned her and turned her head back to the room, where more than a few men were trying to be surreptitious in studying her. Her eyes moved from table to table until she found him, in the far corner sitting with Jenny Delaney. They locked gazes: hers cool and steely, his troubled and questioning. She allowed a smile--easily done given the surge of confidence she was feeling--and imitated a gesture she had seen in several 20th century 2D films, raising her water glass to him in acknowledgment. As he raised his in return, Jenny intercepted it with her hand and restrained him, looking at Seven in frank disapproval. Harry turned to her in frustration, and as Seven hoped, an argument ensued. Then, as she expected, B'Elanna and Tom joined them, adding to the discord. Satisfied, she let her attention continue to drift across the room. A finger tapped her shoulder. She turned to see Lieutenant Chapman hovering behind her. "Good evening, Seven," he said. "Um, you look great tonight. Is it a special occasion?" === With the fire from the fireworks up above me, With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain at hand. You run for cover in the temple of love, You run for another, but still the same, The wind will blow my name across this land. In the temple of love you hide together. Believing pain and fear outside. But someone near you rides the weather And the tears he cried will rain On walls as wide as lovers' eyes. In the temple of love, Shine like thunder. In the temple of love, Cry like rain. In the temple of love, Hear me calling. In the temple of love, Hear my name. And the devil in a black dress watches over. My guardian angel walks away. Life is short and love is always over in the morning. Black winds come carry me far away. With the sunny-like diamond night above me. With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain inside. You run for cover in the temple of love; You run for another, it's all the same, For the wind will blow and throw your walls aside. With a fire from the fireworks up above, With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain, You run for cover in the temple of love, But shine like thunder, cry like rain. And the temple of love grows old and strong, But the wind blows stronger, cold and long. And the temple of love will fall before This black wind blows my name to you once more. In the black sky thunder sweeping underground And, oh, the water sounds Of crying, weeping, will not save Your faith for bricks and dreams for mortar. All your prayers must seem as nothing, Ninety-six below the waves, When stone is dust and only air remains. In the temple of love, Shine like thunder. In the temple of love, Cry like rain. In the temple of love, Hear me calling. In the temple of love, Is falling down.... In the black sky thunder sweeping underground And, oh, the water sounds Of crying, weeping, will not save Your faith for bricks and dreams for mortar. All your prayers must seem as nothing, Ninety-six below the waves, When stone is dust and there remains the only haven you can trust. And the devil in a black dress watches over. My guardian angel walks away. Life is short and lov always over in the morning. Black wind come carry me far away. With a fire from the fireworks up above, With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain, You run for cover in the temple of love. But shine like thunder, cry like rain. And the temple of love grows old and strong But the wind blows stronger, cold and long. And the temple of love will fall before This black wind blows my name to you once more. In the temple of love you hide together. Believing pain and fear outside. But someone near you rides the weather And the tears he cried will rain On walls as wide as lovers' eyes. In the temple of love, Shine like thunder. In the temple of love, Cry like rain. In the temple of love, Hear me calling. In the temple of love, Is falling down.... ("Temple of Love," Sisters of Mercy) THE HUNT BEGINS. SEVEN PUNISHES HARRY AND JENNY. SHE TRIES TO ASSIMILATE HARRY. SEVEN REALISES SHE WILL NOT "WIN" THIS WAY AND LETS HIM GO, RETREATING TO THE HOLODECK., IN SHAME AND FEAR. === Snow blind, dog tired. Slow grind, barb wired. One last chance in the jungle trance And the fast step of the monkey dance craze. More pains, misty days and dizzy faints. Keeping the faith, spinning, turning. Watch the flames of bridges burning. Turning colors and shedding skin. Shining bright through thick and thin. Mirror of God, it's the legend and myth. The fatal charm Of the treasure gift-wrapped In heaven scents, So trapped on islands of intent. Avenging angel of the wild blue yearning, Stoke the flames of bridges burning. Burning me up. Bridges burning. Burning drives me wild Yearning for the slow child. Crumbling track; shed no tears. See no evil; speak in tongues. Hear you say: "Lover's Leap." 'Cause there's now one way, Trust water's deep. Hear the fire and the Fool is learning, To run from the flames of bridges burning. ("Bridges Burning," The Mission) FAILING, SEVEN RETREATS TO THE HOLODECK. THE CAPTAIN PURSUES. HARRY VOLUNTEERS TO BE A DECOY AND THE EMH HYPOS SEVEN. (Janeway's POV) She walked into cacophony. Into the Borg cube from Hell. The music pounded, like anvils in a massive foundry, like a restless stadium crowd, like endless assembly lines in old factories. It surrounded, absorbed, flattened, suffused, battered. Seven stood in the center, face tilted upward and her eyes closed, arms stretching, straining outward, reaching for a connection to something. Her fingers waved like cilia. She was at once ecstatic and sacrificial. A soul whirling somewhere in the vastness of remembered Borg life. "Seven!" Janeway called out. No surprise that she didn't respond, as the Captain couldn't even hear herself. "Computer, end program. Captain's authorisation: Janeway Alpha One." Ringing, echoing silence descended. For a moment, Seven didn't react, then she spun around and pulled herself into a defensive stance. === You are my friend. So sad this had to end. Some broken things don't mend, Lie where they fall. You say the knife Is twisted in your back. You don't remember that It was a lie. But you're my friend, my friend. And you know Things are not the same (You can't hide your lies.) It's time. There's nothing you can't change. Friend, I'm sad it had to end. You can't bring back the dead-- They'll burn you down. You're much too smart To waste your mind on hate. And you know too late, Don't be afraid. But you're my friend, my friend. You are my friend, my friend. ("You Are My Friend," The Rain Parade) It's time we should talk about it. There's no secrets kept in here. Forgive me for asking; Now wipe away your tears. And if I wish to stop it all. And if I wish to comfort the fall-- It's just wishful thinking. I sat on the roof And watched the day go by. I see the likeness in his smile And the way he stands, Makes it all worth while. And if I wish to stop it all. And if I wish to comfort the fall-- It's just wishful thinking. ("Wishful Thinking," China Crisis) SEVEN MUST NOW FACE HARRY AND COME TO SOME KIND OF RAPPROCHEMENT. "I'm sorry," Megan said. "I don't know what came over me." "I could say much the same." "Chakotay is leading a story circle. Why don't you come to the Mess Hall tonight?" he asked. She shook her head wordlessly. "I cannot," she declared. "Are you feeling shame?" She thought it over a moment, then nodded. "The best way to get over it is to face it." "When I was Borg," she said, "these emotions were irrelevant. I find it difficult to function when they are strong." "Well," Harry replied, "you're not Borg--" "So everyone reminds me. Ceaselessly." Harry smiled and completed his sentence. "--and we aren't going to be assimilated." He leaned toward her and for a moment an echo of her earlier mania sounded. "Face it down, conquer it, then move on. Isn't that what Borg do?" She let the flutter of panic pass. "Yes. Even ex-Borg." She had a lifetime of Borg discipline and control to draw from, but the relevant lessons would come from her human friends. "Will you escort me?" His smile froze for just a second, then it rewarmed itself. "I'm going to be there with Jenny. But we'll save a seat next to us, if you'd like." "Yes, I would like that." She said the words by rote, but she was surprised to find that they were true. "Thank you." And that was also true. === === === === === === === === === === === === === === === === STORY: The Delaney sisters are fussing over a new powdered perfume when Seven walks up on them. It is from the planet they are orbiting; Neelix got it from some local traders. They suggest that she try some, saying that it mixes with the person's chemistry to create a unique scent. Seven says that her nanoprobes will counteract it; the Delaneys' say that it can't hurt to try it anyway, then. They giggle that it might work on poor Harry Kim. Then they say that he's apparently moved on, as he's pursuing Jenny now. Seven tries the powder, which reacts with her nanoprobes to make her amphetamine-like: speeding, manic, paranoid, obsessive, abrupt. She tries to follow up on Harry and his indecision she takes as rejection. She decides she'll show him and goes to Sandrine's one evening in a very short, low-cut, tight black dress; with her hair down and curly. She wants to torture him with what he's not going to have. But it goes badly and she leaves in great upset. Seven goes ballistic, badgering Harry, threatening Jenny, mucking about in the computer to give Harry a hard time, etc. When she is called before the Captain to explain herself, she decides that Janeway is also in on this and is after her. She goes to Harry, in Engineering, and tries to abduct him. Tuvok shows up with Security and is forced to subdue her. She is taken to Sick Bay, where the Doctor finds out that the powder made her nanoprobes go haywire. Seven is screaming and fighting the restraints and has to be tranquilised. When she is cured, she must face Harry and the Captain. === === (Janeway's POV) She walked into cacophony. Into the Borg cube from Hell. The music pounded, like anvils in a massive foundry, like a restless stadium crowd, like endless assembly lines in old factories. It surrounded, absorbed, flattened, suffused, battered. Seven stood in the center, face tilted upward and her eyes closed, arms stretching, straining outward, reaching for a connection to something. Her fingers waved like cilia. She was at once ecstatic and sacrificial. === === Never Forgive It never felt so real Never so visceral But now it's all too clear And all too typical You're left with nothing And it's all your fault Relations cease And emotions halt Did you think the things you said Wouldn't get back to me? That I'd fall and disperse Beneath you misery I won't waste my time You can suffer alone Crying your shrill litany In endless drones (CH:) Rain down Tears of regret You haven't seen the worst of it yet Your name A foul epithet Never forgive... never forget I offered you something You can never regain But now all I can offer you is total disdain And this is how you pay me back for all those times I listened to you and forgave all your crimes If lies about me Are the best you can do I guess I must've Overtestimated you Paint cruelty on me But its all the same No one believes someone In your mindframe (CH) The light of day Was never kind to you But the darkness is worse When the day is through Time to reflect On all your misdeeds And sob your sorry self To sleep (CH) I Want To Touch You I always thought the way you talked was neat And I dreamed that when you speak, you speak to me But you're always out of reach And I can't control my speech And I'm scared that when we meet, I'll want to touch you I want to touch you I want to touch you I want to touch you I want to touch you You're the only soul inside that makes me shake And the crazy senseless things you make me take It would really make my day If you'd only move away 'Cause I'm scared that if you stay, I'll want to touch you I want to touch you I want to touch you I want to touch you But you're always out of reach And I can't control my speech And I'm scared that when we meet I'm fermenting, can't you see I want to touch you I want to touch you I want to touch you I want to touch you I want to touch you I want to touch you I want to touch you I want to touch you Touch you, touch you, touch you, touch you, touch you === Adrenaline (Rosetta Stone) And when I think of all the times I tried to make you understand The truth possessed within these lines. Within the soul I left behind. No fears for consequence remain. The razor cuts, We're free again. The shining hour redefined. Cloud nine, white line, Line, line, line. I'm on adrenaline. Another gift from God. Breathing deep religiously. Dust. Sphinctering inside of me. Light speed, intensity; Driven by impurity. The shining hour redefined. Cloud nine, white line, Line, line, line. This time, I'm on adrenaline. I'm on adrenaline. I'm told that eyes are the windows of the soul. God speed be with you. Drawn inside by razor lines, Cut, and not muffled from the ledge. Inches beyond the edge. Indications start to shine. Cloud nine, white line, This time I'm on adrenaline. I'm on adrenaline. I'm on adrenaline. === Jesus or a Gun (Fuel) Walk away; I walk the wire. And my fields are burning in the flames. Feel my way, blind in the mire, Struggling from your voice inside my head. But now everything's trying to drag me down. But I'll rip the sky from the ground. But tell me now: Who's my saving one? Jesus or a gun? Stripped away my last desire. Nothing comes and nothing's sent away. Happiness I couldn't hire. Struggling from your vioce inside my head. But now everything's trying to drag me down. But I'll rip the sky from the ground. But tell me now: Who's my saving one? Jesus or a gun? All that's safer falls from my favor. When it's over who will cry for me? It's safe to say I don't desire. Everything you push inside my head. And I'll reject it until I'm dead. But now everything's trying to drag me down. But I'll rip the sky from the ground. But tell me now: Who's my saving one? Jesus or a gun? === Temple of Love (The Sisters of Mercy) With the fire from the fireworks up above me, With a gun for a lover and shot for the pain at hand. You run for cover in the temple of love, You run for another, but still the same, The wind will blow my name acorss this land. In the temple of love you hide together. Believing pain and fear outside. But someone near you rides weather And the tears he cried will rain On walls as wide as lovers' eyes. In the temple of love, Shine like thunder. In the temple of love, Cry like rain. In the temple of love, Hear me calling. In the temple of love, Hear my name. And the devil in a black dress watches over. My guardian angel walks away. Life is short and love is always over in the morning. Black winds come carry me far away. With the sunny-like diamond night above me. With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain inside. You run for cover in the temple of love; You run for another, it's all the same, For the wind will blow and throw your walls aside. With a fire from the fireworks up above, With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain, You run for cover in the temple of love, But shine like thunder, cry like rain. And the temple of love grows old and strong, But the wind blows stronger, cold and long. And the temple of love will fall before This black wind blows my name to you once more. In the black sky thunder sweeping underground And, oh, the water sounds Of crying, weeping, will not save Your faith for bricks and dreams for mortar. All your prayers must seem as nothing, Ninety-six below the waves, When stone is dust and only air remains. In the temple of love, Shine like thunder. In the temple of love, Cry like rain. In the temple of love, Hear me calling. In the temple of love, Is falling down.... In the black sky thunder sweeping underground And, oh, the water sounds Of crying, weeping, will not save Your faith for bricks and dreams for mortar. All your prayers must seem as nothing, Ninety-six below the waves, When stone is dust and there remains the only haven you can trust. And the devil in a black dress watches over. My guardian angel walks away. Life is short and love is always over in the morning. Black wind come carry me far away. With a fire from the fireworks up above, With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain, You run for cover in the temple of love. But shine like thunder, cry like rain. And the temple of love grows old and strong But the wind blows stronger, cold and long. And the temple of love will fall before This black wind blows my name to you once more. In the temple of love you hide together. Believing pain and fear outside. But someone near you rides the weather And the tears he cried will rain On walls as wide as lovers' eyes. In the temple of love, Shine like thunder. In the temple of love, Cry like rain. In the temple of love, Hear me calling In the temple of love, Is falling down.... === Bridges Burning (The Mission) Snow blind, dog tired. Slow grind, barb wired. One last chance in the jungle trance And the fast step of the monkey dance craze. More pains, misty days and dizzy faints. Keeping the faith, spinning, turning. Watch the flames of bridges burning. Turning colors and shedding skin. Shining bright through thick and thin. Mirror of God, it's the legend and myth. The fatal charm Of the treasure gift-wrapped In heaven scents, So trapped on islands of intent. Avenging angel of the wild blue yearning, Stoke the flames of bridges burning. Burning me up. Bridges burning. Burning drives me wild Yearning for the slow child. Crumbling track; shed no tears. See no evil; speak in tongues. Hear you say: "Lover's Leap." 'Cause there's now one way, Trust water's deep. Hear the fire and the Fool is learning, To run from the flames of bridges burning. === How Soon is Now (The Smiths) ....There's a club if you'd like to go. You could meet somebody who really loves you. But you go and you stand on your own; And you leave on your own. And you go home, and you cry and you want to die.... === Duel (Propaganda) Eye to eyes, the winners and losers. Hurt by envy, cut by greed. Face to face, with bounty's illusion. The stars look forward, romance is (something) sheets. And when, blow by blow, The passion dies, It's later then just half-realise, The memories of gone-by times. But still recall the lines: The first cut won't hurt at all. The second only makes you wonder. The third will have you on your knees. You start leaving, I start screaming. It's too late, the decision is made by fate. Time to prove what forever should last. Who's feelings are so true? Asked to stand the test. Who's demands are so strong As to parry all attacks? And when, blow by blow, The passion dies, It's later then just half-realise, The memories of gone-by times. But still recall the lines: The first cut won't hurt at all. The second only makes you wonder. The third will have you on your knees. You start leaving, I start screaming. === These Days (Joy Division) Morning seems strange, almost out of place. Searched hard for you and your special ways. These days, these days. Spent all my time, learned a killers' art. Took threats and abuse 'til I'd learned the part. Can you stay, for these days? Used outward deception to get away. Broken heart romance to make it pay. These days, these days. We'll drift through it all, it's the modern age. Take care of it all, now these debts are paid. Can you stay, for these days? === Something Better (?) (O Positive) There's nothing you can choose. No obsession to lose. I watch it slip away from you. Don't believe it. Pull the window down. Rows and rows of shining, silent stones. If I hit you with a hammer Would you disappear, just like you should? Ohh, something better come true. Said I know something better will come to me here. Then the darkness falls, Cannot see it all. All the things surround me within my reach-- Supposed to do, make good and.... I go through the ceiling now. Don't have time, but I don't know how. I'm not doing anything, 'Cept I'm counting one, two and three. Ooh, something better come true. Said I know something better will come to me, to me, too.... === You Are My Friend The Rain Parade You are my friend. So sad this had to end. Some broken things don't mend, Lie where they fall. You say the knife Is twisted in your back. You don't remember that It was (a lie.)? But you're my friend, my friend. And you know Things are not the same (You can't hide your lies.) It's time. There's nothing you can't change. Friend, I'm sad it had to end. You can't bring back the dead-- They'll burn you down. You're much too smart To waste your mind on hate. And you know too late, Don't be afraid. But you're my friend, my friend. You are my friend, my friend. === I Got You (Split Enz) I got you and that's all I want. I won't forget, that's a whole lot. I don't go out. Not now that you're in. Sometimes we shout, but that's no problem. I don't know why sometimes I get frightened. You can see my eyes and tell that I'm not lying. Look at you; you're a pageant. You're everything that I've imagined. Something's wrong. I feel uneasy. You show me. Tell me you're not teasing. I don't know why sometimes I get frightened. You can see my eyes and tell that I'm not lying. I don't know why sometimes I get frightened. You can see my eyes and tell me you're not lying. There's no doubt--not when I'm with you. When I'm without, I stay in my room. Where do you go? I get no answer. You're always out. It gets on my nerves. I don't know why sometimes I get frightened. You can see my eyes and tell that I'm not lying. I don't know why sometimes I get frightened. He sou can see my eyes and tell me you're not lying. === Strap Me Down (Leatherstrip) "How does it feel, to lose control?" I'm in the darkness chasing fear. But there is only one thing I can't get near. It's breathing down my fragile neck. I can taste the bitterness of its salty sweat. It's getting closer everytime. But I can't look back now, it's all in my mind. I see a landscape shaped in lights. But it's fading away now; it can't be right. Strap me down with disillusion, Tie me up in lifelines. Nothing stops my thought from breeding, Nothing's stopping my mind. All these temptations testing my trust, Are closing in now to fight my lust. These horny voices boil in my brain. They want to show me the force of pain. I can't decide which way to chose. I've got nothing to win, but a lot to lose. Maybe this life wasn't meant to waste. I'm just moving in circles with nothing to taste. === Assimilate (Skinny Puppy) oil remove shred and tear radiation vapor it's the fear so unclear man in motion going nowhere in our homes stuck in the face spread the word to the populace yellow journal yellow journal set the pace feel the rage manifestations of a sort so insidious off the point simple solution never confusion sport a gun kill a cop crazy world of weary thought so receive me had enough lock me up lock me up rot and assimilate so hot to annihilate deviation tonic mess prolonged existence innocence is he who speaks isn't weak wheelchair virtue so to speak bubonic plague the truth of aids immunity avoid decay in the trench of pestilence the bible screams announce your faith mutterings of death to bring suffocate a newborn thing degradation of an age venereal it's all sensation protect design the moral plan infallible as propaganda completely black with no steps back hot to assimilate we'll rot or annihilate agony profusely stains the inner thinking of the brain accusations clanking chains experiments with the groans of pain all prefer no one blames the terror in an animal's screams in cages our future - the answers insane === Isolation (correct lyrics) Joy Division In fear every day, every evening He calls her aloud from above Carefully watched for a reason Painstaking devotion and love Surrendered to self-preservation From others who care for themselves A blindness that touches perfection But hurts just like anything else Isolation -- Mother I tried, please believe me I'm doing the best that I can I'm ashamed of the things I've been put through I'm ashamed of the person I am Isolation -- But if you could just see the beauty These things I could never describe These pleasures a wayward distraction Is this my one lucky prize? Isolation -- === A Girl in Trouble is a Temporary Thing Romeo Void She's got a face that shows that she knows she's heard every line. Tenderly she talks on the phone. There's a way to walk that says "Stay away." Ain't it time to go better the long way? A girl in trouble is a temporary thing. A girl in trouble is a temporary thing. There's a time when every girl learns to use her head. Tears will be saved 'til they're better spent. There's no time to be 'fraid, so instead, She takes care of business, keeps a cool head. A girl in trouble is a temporary thing. A girl in trouble is a temporary thing. === Runners-up: Mother of Pearl, Roxy Music Science Gone Too Far, The Dictators Young, Fast, and Scientific, The Dictators Low, Cracker Smoke, The Tubes A Forest, The Cure Day by Day, Bread (?) Roll Away the Stone, Mott the Hoople Sister India, The Psychedelic Furs A Girl in Trouble, Romeo Void Slow Motion, Lights of Euphoria === Runners-up: Mother of Pearl, Roxy Music Science Gone Too Far, The Dictators Young, Fast, and Scientific, The Dictators Low, Cracker Smoke, The Tubes A Forest, The Cure Roll Away the Stone, Mott the Hoople Sister India, The Psychedelic Furs A Girl in Trouble, Romeo Void Slow Motion, Lights of Euphoria