Chapter Text
I observed as Captain...no, Admiral Janeway walked up onto the stage. She appeared haggard in a way I hadn't ever seen and was forcing a smile that failed to reach her eyes as she waited for the applause to die down. Chakotay's hand settled gently on my left scapula and I glanced at him. He wore an anticipatory, friendly expression on his face as he watched the Capt- I mean, the Admiral. The smoky voice brought my attention back to the stage, as well, as Janeway began her speech by thanking the audience for their applause. I wanted to stand and proclaim to her that her thanks were unnecessary, that applause was practically obligatory whenever she entered a room, especially a room in which we, her former crew, were present. I restrained myself, however. I was not the only individual who was happy to see her again. I could not 'hog' her attention, or imply that the extent to which I had missed her was greater than anyone else's; although I fully believe that to be the case.
Her speech was likely recorded by my remaining borg technology; however, I have no natural recollection of the content. I became lost in the gravelly tones, the cadence and huskiness of her words swirling around me like incense. Her eyes met mine every so often, inciting simultaneous emotions of comforting familiarity and chilling fear - my Captain was no longer behind those eyes. It had only been a year since Voyager returned to Earth, and it occurred to me that too much had changed too quickly for the woman who had steeled herself for so long against the impossible odds she faced in the Delta Quadrant. The debriefings and trials had been particularly wearing for Voyager's captain, with every decision she had taken while in command of the vessel under intense scrutiny. Being Borg, I had been the only crew member to receive anywhere close to the duration of interrogation Janeway had endured.
I felt an odd chilling sensation as an imaginary scene flooded my brain, where the once fierce Captain Janeway was viciously defending her decision to allow me aboard her vessel. By all reports, she had quite vehemently insisted that I belonged as part of her crew and had instantly shut down any mention of my being a potential threat to the Alpha Quadrant. I had not yet had the opportunity to thank her or consult her for a more personal debriefing.
Applause rang out around me, lifting me from my stupor and forcing me to clap along with everyone as I looked up to see Janeway waving and walking off stage. It appeared she would not be joining us for dinner. Unable to stop myself, I rose and quickly strode towards the door, my only focus on the woman I needed to see, to speak to. I made my way to the front door just as she was pushing it open.
"Captain!"
She froze, eyebrows raised in surprise.
"Seven? What are you doing?"
My brow furrowed slightly. "I am attempting to stop you before you leave the building."
Light suddenly danced in her eyes, and a low laugh rumbled out from within her.
…
"Are you having fun?"
I turned, almost starting at the sight of the Captain dressed in a white suit apparently created from linen fabric.
"No," I replied abruptly, caught off guard. I faltered further as I observed her lower her head, trying to hide the mirth in her eyes as a stray chuckle escaped her throat. I nearly smiled.
…
This time I actually did smile. At both the memory and the current situation. My expression seemed to halt whatever the admiral had been planning to say, and instead, she gazed at me with what I can only describe as wonder, frozen in the doorway with one hand holding the glass door open, the smile on her face mirroring mine. She took a step back towards me, letting the door swing shut.
"Oh, Seven," she sighed, the sadness returning only partially. "Can I give you a hug?"
"I would like that, Admiral," I admitted, and she quickly crossed the room and we folded each other into a close embrace.
The hug held none of the awkwardness of those Chakotay attempted with me. I relished in the feeling of the small woman in my arms until eventually, we broke apart. I wasn't certain, but it seemed she was as reluctant as I to end the embrace.
"It's so good to see you, Seven," Janeway breathed, then suddenly the remaining light in her eyes dimmed, and her expression turned grim. "How's Chakotay?"
My chest constricted. I did not want to talk about Chakotay. Not with her.
"He is…fine, I believe," I choked out.
The admiral shook her head sadly and, I realised, involuntarily. "Good, good. Well… I should head out, and you should get back to him." She grimaced, then turned back towards the door, before looking back over her shoulder: "See you around, Seven."
"No!"
My outburst startled both of us. A tear formed in my eye. Janeway let go of the door again and walked purposely up to me.
"What do you mean 'no', Seven?" her face and her question were filled with concern.
I began crying in earnest when she put her hands on both my shoulders, steadying me.
"I…I cannot adapt to this circumstance," I wailed, unable to contain my emotions.
I wiped my eyes with the palm of my hand, like a child, and then a small, fine-boned hand cupped my face. So unlike Chakotay's.
"To what circumstance?" my Captain asked gently.
I felt myself grimace. My satin dress felt too loose, my hair too light without the pins twisting it up close against my scalp. I longed for my biosuit, my alcove, my home.
"I wish to return to Voyager," I choked out, and suddenly I was pulled into a tight embrace. I felt Janeway inhale sharply and hold her breath. "I have made a mistake," I cried, causing my sobs to start anew.
"Shh," Janeway soothed, although she trembled as she held me. “I understand. This isn’t home, is it?”
Another sob was all that came out from my throat. I wanted to scream ‘I miss you, Captain’, but my body would not allow it.
“Don’t cry, Seven. It’ll be all right,” Janeway soothed, and surprising me yet again, reached up and placed a soft kiss on my forehead.
As I imagine she knew it would, the kiss calmed me almost instantly, and we merely stood in each other’s embrace in comfortable silence. We eventually parted enough to make eye contact; allowing all the emotions and things better left unsaid to transmit between us. My captain reached up to cup my face once more, with both hands, gazing at me with such affection it caused me to experience a strange sensation in my abdomen.
“Seven?” I heard from behind me, and I watched the sad emptiness instantly replace the love I had seen moments before.
I had never wanted to commit physical assault on Chakotay more than at that moment. Janeway offered me one last sad smile before she was out the door and gone, and I was left alone with a man I felt such strong hatred toward, a man who had by now clasped his hand on my shoulder, preventing me running after my captain again.
In the weeks following that first Starfleet-organised reunion, things seemed to normalise for most of my old crew. Debriefings were officially complete and many had been reassigned to new posts or, like Chakotay, had resigned from Starfleet. I did not know how I wished to proceed. This man, who had by now claimed me as his ‘girlfriend’ after that foolish kiss I shared with him aboard Voyager and not knowing how to withdraw from what was apparently an agreement to a relationship, was quite content for me to stay with him at all times, as though I were some kind of trophy. He treated me as though I were delicate and fragile, and his constant pandering irritated me. I wished for something to do. More than that, I wished I were in Indiana, with Admiral Janeway. The atmospheric temperature was quite low in San Francisco, where I had insisted we stay rather than follow Chakotay’s insistence that we relocate to a desolate habitation in Arizona, and the people around me were starting to talk frequently about ‘the holidays’. I had come to learn that ‘the holidays’ were particularly conducive for spending time with loved ones, and so I had been expecting it when Harry Kim invited Chakotay and me to a ‘Christmas dinner’ at his family home. I believe Chakotay was not expecting me to reply so quickly, as he had barely finished asking if I would like to attend when I answered in the affirmative.
“Do you think Admiral Janeway will attend?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Chakotay replied, furrowing his brow. “I hope so, it would be nice to actually spend some time with Kathryn, but she might stay with her family.”
“We are her family,” I said firmly, a frown creasing my brow.
Chakotay laughed softly. “Yes, we are,” he agreed, and smothered me with one of his awkward hugs. “You’re such a good person,” he told me, although I was not sure what made him say that. I wanted to push him off, but I refrained so as not to hurt his feelings.
When we arrived at the party, bearing a bowl of a liquid that reminded me of my nutritional supplements which Chakotay insisted was ‘vegan eggnog’, Harry Kim warmly invited us in, taking our coats and offering to serve us some hot cocoa. Chakotay accepted on my behalf while I scanned the room for the admiral. I found myself being ushered to a sofa and seated uncomfortably between the burly man and B’Elanna Torres, who was struggling to contain an exuberant Miral on her lap. I rotely made small talk with the group around me, trying to mask my disappointment. Tom Paris was in the middle of a highly inappropriate joke when a laugh made its way from the kitchen that caused my internal organs to feel cold. Admiral Janeway.
She was talking to Mrs Kim as she entered the living room, laughing about being glad she was not required to cook, as she could barely replicate a turkey without disaster ensuing. I recognised Gretchen and Phoebe Janeway following the admiral, the latter of whom was snorting and relating her sister’s inability to boil water without burning it. I felt frozen in place, stunned as I watched them enter the room with practised ease and grace I could never hope to achieve.
Immediately, several of the attendees approached Janeway, all greeting her and wishing her ‘Merry Christmas’ and hoping for her undivided attention for as long as possible. Still unable to will myself to stand, I watched as she smiled, greeted them warmly in return, offering hugs and even the occasional kiss on the cheek. But the warmth did not quite reach her eyes. It seemed I was the only one that noticed this, however. She met my gaze suddenly and walked over to us, and although her eyes had never left mine, she greeted Chakotay first, allowing him to kiss her on the cheek and give her one of his uncomfortable hugs.
“It’s good to see you, Chakotay,” she said, smiling disingenuously.
He did not notice, and excitedly started chatting to her, enquiring after her wellbeing, assaulting her with irrelevant questions. It incensed me, but I remained silent. Feeling someone watching me, I turned to meet both Phoebe and Gretchen Janeway’s gazes, as they smiled at me with an expression I could not identify. I nodded and averted my gaze to the coffee table in front of me. The admiral greeted the Parises, smoothing Miral’s hair and bantering with her parents. Eventually, it came: “Hello, Seven.”
“Capt...Admiral Janeway,” I said, and finally stood, although it suddenly became overwhelmingly uncomfortable between us, and instead of hugging or even shaking hands, we both nodded brusquely and simply continued staring at each other as though we had never encountered one another before.
“Uh...take a seat, Admiral,” Tom Paris cut in, giving me a confused glare, and waving Janeway over to his armchair.
Phoebe smirked at me as she walked to the sofa opposite the one I had been sitting on. The uneasy silence persisted as everyone was seated. I felt a strong desire to flee. Instead of destroying the front entrance and returning to the apartment I shared with Chakotay on foot, however, I cleared my throat and offered the Janeways eggnog or hot cocoa.
“Don’t take eggnog,” B’Elanna Torres warned, “It’s that vegan crap. No eggs.”
“I will return with three servings of cocoa,” I informed the group, then fled to the kitchen, thanking Mrs Kim for her hospitality once again as I acquired the beverage.
Once I’d served the Janeways, I avoided sitting in the same area and instead feigned interest in whatever Crewmen Tal Celes and Megan Delaney were discussing, and stood away from the group. Both my captain and I were constantly acutely aware of each other, however, even all throughout the meal. We were sitting on opposite ends of the table, and did not even look at each other, but I could feel her presence like a magnetic field. Others noticed my distraction, and several times I was asked if I was ‘okay’. When Chakotay eventually put his hand on my back and peered into my eyes as though checking for the dilation of my pupils, I excused myself, stating that I required ‘fresh air’ and would not be consuming dessert as yet. I made my way through the kitchen and stood at the railing enclosing the back porch, attempting to examine why I could not control myself more effectively. I was there for 12.56 minutes when the door opened behind me. Janeway’s footfalls quickened my pulse rate.
“What’s going on with us,” she sighed, staring out into the cold as I had been.
I did not turn to look at her, but instead found myself leaning into her, resting my forearm against her shoulder. I felt her looking up at me, but still did not turn my focus away from the snowy trees I was unseeingly looking at.
“Seven,” she whispered, and in a fluid motion, as though I were on autopilot, I turned her towards me and pressed my lips to hers.
Neither of us hesitated, which, afterwards, struck me as uncharacteristic; we kissed deeply, tongues meeting, bodies pressing together as we revelled in the beauty, the perfection of the moment. We eventually broke to draw breath, and Kathryn briefly looked at me with hooded eyes before she suddenly leapt from me as though she had been scalded.
“We can’t...this is a mistake, Seven!” She sputtered, touching her lips as though they had blistered.
Unbidden, tears began to fall from my human eye. “It is not, Captain,” I started, the sounds constricted by my crying, “the only mistake was my being involved with Commander Chakotay at all!”
“What do you mean? I thought you were happy. I thought both of you were!”
“I do not belong with him,” I sniffed. “I did not know how to refuse him, but I know I do not belong with him. I...I am so lonely…”
Kathryn stopped short, and her panic calmed to compassion, her own eyes suddenly glistening with tears.
“Me too.”
The admission was little more than a whisper, but it devastated me completely.
“I miss you, Captain,” I finally said, dropping my chin to my chest. “It should have been you,” I added, quietly.
At length, Kathryn took me up in her arms, peering at me from below. “I will not do this to Chakotay, Seven,” she said, as though she were ordering me; the quaver in her voice, however, gave her away. “He loves you.”
“I do not love him,” I replied petulantly, pushing Kathryn away and wiping my tears from my face with my sleeve. “I have never loved him,” I continued, “and I never will.”
“You chose him, Seven,” she said, her voice mournful. “You broke my heart. You will break Chakotay if you do this to him.”
“Captain, I-”
“It’s Kathryn, Seven. I can’t bear to be called ‘Captain’ by you anymore, when it’s the reason I lost you,” Kathryn groaned. “Not that I ever had you,” she muttered, apparently not intending me to hear. She sighed heavily. “If it was meant to be, it would have happened. Chakotay’s a good man. You just need to settle, and you won’t feel so out of sorts. You can be happy with him, Seven.”
“I cannot,” I spat, suddenly angry at the stubborn woman before me. “Nothing about him makes me happy. I resent the way he speaks, the way he touches me-”
Kathryn turned her face away as if I’d slapped her. I instantly understood.
“I mean his attempts at hugging me, Kathryn, or kissing my cheek. I have not copulated with Chakotay. I have not put my tongue in his mouth as I now have yours.”
A slight blush darkened the pink tinge of the cold in her cheeks, and she laughed humorlessly. “Good to know,” she said, embarrassed.
“I do not desire to be with Chakotay, I desire to be with you.”
Her arms folded across her chest, her foot tapping impatiently; a posture I’d seen dozens of times on Voyager, yet the sternness of her expression was marred by her emotions and her imminent crying. I watched as she attempted to gather herself, and waited for her answer, which I knew was not going to be one I wanted to hear.
“It’s not going to happen, Seven,” she said, at last, her command voice wobbly, but intact. “I will not be ‘the other woman’.” She was about to voice more of her convictions, but the kitchen door swung open to reveal a smug Phoebe Janeway.
“If you two are done making out, would you please join us back at the table?” she smirked, immediately retreating back into the house, walking backwards into the kitchen, her arms open wide in a teasing stance.
“Fine,” Kathryn snapped at her, but her voice quietened when she added, to me, “I’ve said all I need to say anyway.” She followed her sister into the house, and shortly I returned to my seat next to Chakotay as well, deftly avoiding his arm as he attempted to rest it across my shoulders.
I remained quiet the rest of the evening and made sure to avoid the Janeways. No matter my position, as far as Kathryn Janeway was concerned, the matter was closed; and I was experiencing feelings of rejection and humiliation. When Chakotay and I finally left, I almost cried with relief.
I was so absorbed in my own experiences, though, that I only noticed once we were in the apartment that Chakotay had been unusually dour and quiet since leaving the Kim household. I looked at him, seeing disappointment etched in his features, despite his obvious attempts to remain passive. His eyes flicked up to meet mine, and for once his mouth didn’t curl into his obsequious smile.
“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” he asked quietly.
“Yes,” I responded, seeing no point in playing dumb or being deceptive.
“Were you ever in love with me?”
“I…” I started, my chest constricting at the pain I saw in his eyes. “I thought I could be,” I told him, trying to ‘soften the blow’, as Tom Paris might say, “but I never was. It...it has always been her.”
He was quiet for a long time.
“I’m sorry, Seven. I knew you weren’t. It was selfish of me to keep you and hope you’d eventually feel the same.”
“I apologise that I cannot,” I replied, perhaps a little too quickly, as his eyes widened slightly as he looked up at me and then immediately back down.
“What do we do now?” He asked me, almost pleadingly.
I sighed. “I do not know.” All I did know was that I did not wish to continue the charade Chakotay and I were carrying out.
He stood from the couch, stopping in front of me, sadness brimming in his eyes but a gentle smile gracing his lips. “I’m not angry, Seven. It hurts, of course it hurts, but I will be here for you no matter what.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead, which I for once did not resist, and I returned his embrace when he folded me into his arms. “Go to her,” he whispered. Despite everything, I smiled into his shoulder.
Five days later, as I was crunching through the thick snow blanketing the walkway to the Janeways’ front porch, I stopped to observe a crudely-rolled snowman standing in the yard wearing a pair of Starfleet-issue underwear as a hat.
“Phoebe’s idea of a joke,” a smoky voice explained from the porch, before its owner made her way down, one arm crossed tightly across her chest, while another carried a familiar metal mug full of hot coffee.
I pulled my scarf from my face as Kathryn and I stared at each other.
“If I tell you it’s over between Chakotay and myself, will you believe me?” I finally asked.
She searched my face, hope, concern, fear flashing across her own.
“I might. Is that why you came here?” she eventually answered, apparently having decided this was not a deception on my part.
“It is not,” I replied.
“Then...why?
“I came for this,” I said, closing the distance between us and pressing my mouth once more to where it belonged - against hers.