Chapter Text
“Ha!” Janeway shouted triumphantly as the beam of her phaser hit the red light on the disc. “Hit!”
She and Seven were playing their regular game of velocity a little more competitively than usual. Janeway whirled quickly out of the way as the disc came careening back towards them. Stumbling a little, her elbow connected solidly with Seven’s side. The air rushed out of Seven’s body as she impacted with the floor, reacting too slowly – the disc hit her hard on her shoulder.
“Oh!” Seven gasped; partly for breath, and partly from pain. Janeway had pointy elbows. Glowering at the disc lying beside her, she watched as the blue light blinked out, the computer informing them of the score. Janeway had won – again.
“Miss,” Seven ground out. She glared up at the captain, and clearly enunciated every word. “What a thing to do.”
“What?” Janeway asked innocently.
“I believe I used the appropriate phrase. I was expressing astonishment and distaste at your use of underhanded tactics in order to defeat me.” Seven glared at the captain some more.
“I know what the phrase means, Seven, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Janeway extended a hand.
Pointedly ignoring it, Seven rose to her feet unaided. “Your elbow.” Her jaw worked as she clenched her teeth.
“My elbow?” Janeway looked surprised. “Surely you don’t think I elbowed you on purpose?”
Seven swallowed her mouthful of water and cast a scornful gaze at the captain. “Are you suggesting that your elbow connected with my ribs by accident?”
“Yes, I am!”
“Where did you intend it to land then? My abdomen, perhaps? My head?” Seven asked, brushing wayward blonde strands from her face.
“Seven, I have no idea what’s wrong with you,” the captain exclaimed. “I did not elbow you on purpose in order to win the game, and I’m surprised and - ” she struggled to find an appropriate word, “- appalled that you would even think that!” Irritated, she wiped away the sweat on her chest, fumbling with the towel and dropping it. She heard Seven call for an exit, and as she stood back up, towel in hand, she realised that Seven was almost over to the door.
“God, Seven, I did apologise!” she yelled after her.
“You did not.” Seven stopped, but didn’t turn around.
“Of course I did.”
“I have an eidetic memory. I believe that my recollection of the events is significantly more accurate than yours,” Seven spat.
Janeway sighed heavily. “Alright then, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise I hadn’t said it. Is that better? Are you happy now?”
“No, I am not happy now!” Seven said, her voice rising as she whipped around to face her. “Why is it that you cannot accept defeat? Can you not allow someone else to be superior just once?”
Janeway, confused and disconcerted, backed clumsily away from the steadily approaching woman. The bare walls of the holodeck made a fitting backdrop for an irate ex-Borg drone. The surrounding grey metal seemed to make the Seven’s implants appear harsher and more noticeable. Then Janeway saw the clear blue fury that was Seven’s eyes. She obviously had to fix this but how could she if she didn’t understand what she’d done wrong?
Or at least, she hoped she didn’t understand.
“I... Seven, what do you want, for me to let you win? To throw the match?”
“This is not about the match!” Seven tossed her water bottle aside with considerable force, balling her fists. She began to pace agitatedly.
Janeway glared. If this irrationality was a new facet of Seven’s developing personality, she didn’t like it one bit.
“Then what is the problem?” Janeway heard herself almost growling the words out but she ignored that and planted her hands on her hips with visible frustration.
Seven stopped her pacing and faced the captain, glowering right back at her.
“The problem is your requirement for control. This is about your need to be superior, to always be the captain.” The more she spoke, the louder and more caustic Seven became. “It is about you setting every rule and winning everything; every disagreement! You even control which decisions I am permitted to make - I can select our meals, but I cannot even choose which side of the bed I sleep on!”
Janeway was amazed – and alarmed. This appeared to be worse than she thought. Where had this come from? She reached out to touch Seven’s arm in an effort to placate her.
“Seven, you’re being unreasonable...”
“I am not being unreasonable,” retorted Seven, stepping back and out of the captain’s reach. “My research indicates it is not unreasonable to expect shared responsibility and control within an intimate relationship. Often they are called partnerships, Kathryn, which suggests a degree of equality. We do not have a partnership.” Seven inhaled sharply.
Janeway, her demeanour quickly matching Seven’s, became argumentative. “I know what this is really about,” she said, nodding slightly, her lips thinning as they pressed tightly together. “I know you don’t like it, but I thought we had agreed that we needed to be discreet, I thought you understood why...”
Seven interrupted Janeway again. “I understand your need for discretion perfectly. I do not agree that it is necessary; however I am willing to acquiesce to your desires in this matter. That is not the issue.”
Janeway snapped.
“Then what the hell is the issue? My domineering nature? My inability to let you be the boss? My need to be the always be the captain, didn’t you say? Well, this is me, Seven, this is how it is. I am the captain of a starship thousands of light years away from home and I have a responsibility to keep these people safe. If I have to be the captain twenty-four hours a day in order to do that, then so be it!” This time it was Janeway who stormed away. She stomped over to the bench and grabbed her water bottle, taking a long swig.
Seven followed, and continued her tirade. “You do not need to be captain twenty-four hours a day in order to keep Voyager’s crew unharmed. When you are alone with me you can set your responsibilities aside and relax. I can assist you. Psychology dictiates that...” Seeing Janeway’s eyes narrow, her face hardening like concrete, Seven stopped.
With a low, dangerous tone to her voice, Janeway spoke. “I don’t give a damn what psychology dictates. This is how I am. If you can’t handle it, then you might as well leave right now.”
Confused, Seven looked at her partner. “Leave?” she asked.
“Leave,” repeated Janeway. “Leave the holodeck, leave this discussion, and leave my life. I don’t have time for someone who’s out to reform me.”
“But Kathryn...” This was not the result she had anticipated at all. This entire conversation was rapidly spiralling out of Seven’s control. She hurried to catch up as the captain strode rapidly toward the exit.
“You just let me know when you’ve made up your mind, Seven.” The door opened. Janeway stepped forward.
“Kathryn.”
Stopping and turning, Janeway placed her hand on the door frame. Seven was only a few paces away, still inside the holodeck. She glanced meaningfully towards the hallway, crewmembers passing by, and then looked back at the tall woman standing before her.
“This discussion is over.”
______________________________________________
Kathryn Janeway slumped over the bathroom vanity, her locked elbows bracing her, the heels of her hands taking most of her weight. She looked herself despondently in the eye via the mirror above the sink.
“Fuck.”
She took in her down-turned mouth, tired eyes and sweaty, tousled hair. She had never felt so old.
“Fuck.” She said it a little more forcefully this time, but it didn’t make her feel any better.
She looked down at her fingers, curled around the edges of the bench, and squeezed until her knuckles were white. A single tear fell into the basin. She let out a ragged sigh.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”