Work Text:
"Captain Janeway," Janeway heard Seven's voice from just outside the threshold of her bedroom.
Kathryn Janeway appeared at the doorway speculatively. Her eyes layed upon Seven of Nine wearing a science officer's Starfleet uniform. No pips. No combadge.
"This uniform is far more comfortable than my biosuit."
Janeway quirked a smile, her hands coming up to rest on her hips, "Is it?" She took a step in, towards the ex-Borg. Seven of Nine looked great in the uniform. Granted, she could never wear it unless Janeway commissioned her. Janeway knew within her heart that Seven would be an astounding Starfleet officer if given the chance.
Seven shifted, the fabric of the uniform dancing loosely against her frame. Janeway smiled wider. The Captain often caught the crewmembers shooting perspicuous glances at the Borg. Or flat out staring. She had even caught a few crew members flirting with Seven to the point where it became completely inappropriate. In those times, Janeway had stepped in and given said crewmembers reprimand.
Seven wearing this uniform— that was not so tight to her body, like the biosuit— made Janeway feel a little bit less worried about Seven. She, however, did not want to dictate Seven and tell the Borg she was not able to wear whatever she wanted. Ultimately, it was always up to other lifeforms whether or not to react to provocative outfits.
"Why do you like it?" Janeway carefully asked, cautiously wording herself so that she did not inadvertently suggest something to Seven and end up making her feel pressured to agree— she had wanted to ask Seven if the biosuit made her uncomfortable.
"It is," Seven looked down at herself. She pulled one side to make the uniform's bumps appear even, "Much less overwhelming." Seven looked up at her, her blue eyes searching.
Janeway dropped her hands from her hips and approached Seven. She walked closely around the ex-drone like a stalking cat.
Once she had circled about 270 degrees around her, she spoke, leaning towards the Borg, her hands coming to rest on her hips once more, "Is the biosuit overwhelming?" she asked while peering around Seven's shoulder to look at her, a very intentional stroke of softness to her voice.
"It distracts me." Seven vaguely stated.
Janeway slinkered around to stand in front of her. "How so?" Her voice was crisp and worriedly intrusive.
"Its tightness hinders my movements. I have concluded that people are distracted by it. They frequently stare at my body and do not pay attention to my words. It is inefficient."
Janeway smiled at Seven's wording, but her smile slowly faded away as she replied: "Inefficient, Seven? It does not make you uncomfortable to be looked at as a sexual object?"
"Is that abnormal?" Seven asked. Janeway's chest tightened. Science, how she had failed Seven. How could she let this happen?
"Yes, it's abnormal! Seven, you shouldn't have to deal with that on a day-to-day basis. Especially not on a Federation starship. Especially not on mine." Janeway's tone had sharpened with pointed hot flames.
"I apologize, Captain," said Seven, wrongly thinking the anger was pointed at her.
"No need to apologize, Seven. How other people react to you is never your fault," Janeway said. She brought a hand up to Seven's shoulder, placing it lightly for a moment, staring at the ex-drone in the eyes. Then, she stepped closer and slid her arm across Seven's upper back, eventually resting it around her shoulders.
"Now, let's go see the Doctor." Janeway guided her out of the room.
=/\=
Janeway had slid her arm off of Seven's shoulders when they had entered Voyager's halls if only to give the stiff Borg some much-needed privacy and space.
As they walked down the hall, passing glances were made at them— specifically Seven of Nine's new nice black and turquoise uniform. Janeway caught some disappointed looks. She smirked to herself about it. She also caught a few smiles, and sometimes returned stern but acknowledging nods to keep her Captain's reputation.
"Seven!" Janeway heard Tom's voice, then saw the red-uniformed man as they rounded the final corner before the turbolift.
Seven stopped as Tom jogged up to them. He gave the Captain a surprised glance, as if suddenly remembering something. He nodded to her, "Captain."
"Lieutenant Paris," Seven's curt crisp voice spoke.
"I see you've changed your outfit."
"It is temporary, Lieutenant."
"Oh," Tom said, a little deflated from what Janeway could read before he covered it up with his usual extroverted exuberance.
Before Tom could speak, Janeway broke in to contradict Seven, "That is not true, Lieutenant. We are hoping the Doctor will be able to make it permanent." Despite Janeway's ambiguity, a certain commanding tone ruled her voice, making her statement sound like a verdict rather than a speculation.
This time Tom's enthusiasm was real, "Well, good luck," he said, then turned to Captain Janeway, addressing her again, "Captain." At that, he bounced away past them.
Once they were in the turbolift, Seven spoke, "Captain."
Janeway turned to her, her own expression a light, distant smile that came into focus when she looked at the ex-Borg, "Yes, Seven?"
"Lieutenant Paris was receptive."
Janeway nodded, "That's right." While Paris had a reputation for being a hopeless romantic, he was the last person who would be disrespectful. If anything, he was the one Janeway had noticed treating Seven explicitly like a sexual object least. He took a more casual approach, ignoring it like it meant nothing because Seven herself did not seem aware of it and he knew it was not intentional. Janeway wished more of her crew would take after Tom. It was contradictory and unexpected for someone like Tom, but the universe was full of contradictions and nuance. She smiled to herself.
The turbolift doors to Deck 5 opened. The sickbay was nearby.
As they strolled into sickbay, they caught the attention of the Doctor. He looked up from his LCARS PADD to them, a welcoming smile forming on his face.
"Ah, Captain. Seven," he said as he set down the PADD on a nearby table and approached them. "What is the nature of your medical emergency?"
Before Janeway or Seven could get a word in, the Doctor looked at Seven with judgment, "Seven. Why are you not wearing your biosuit?"
Janeway was irked by the way the Doctor spoke to Seven. She had come to like the Doctor, as many more of her crew had, though some of them merely tolerated him. However, when she watched the Doctor's interactions with Seven, she found herself wanting to punch him. Even if it was futile.
Janeway kept a straight face, her voice tight and terse, "Seven requires different attire."
"Different attire? I made that biosuit specifically for her condition!" As the Doctor was speaking, Janeway passed a glance at Seven, looking for any sign of irritation. She did not want to speak over or for Seven. The Borg was watching her with silent eyes. Janeway was distracted by them: They seemed to sparkle with their own magic.
Janeway looked at the Doctor, regaining a grip on reality, the anger suddenly returning.
"Well, you sure did a good job at making it look aesthetically pleasing. Did you ever ask Seven what she felt about it?" Janeway's words were barbed with d'k tahgmey.
The Doctor blinked rapidly, stepping back away from them, his pride deflating. A concerned expression overtook his face, his forehead wrinkling. "Is something wrong with it?"
Janeway turned to Seven, giving the woman a long look, "Explain," she said softly.
Seven dragged her light blue eyes away from her Captain to look at the hovering hologram.
"It is inefficient."
"Inefficient how, Seven? I made that suit just for your specific circumstance," vaunted the Doctor.
Seven passed a hard, frustrated look to Janeway.
"It is too constricting. The tightness must be decreased."
"That's ridiculous, Seven. There is no way to heal your skin if it is not in contact with the inside of the biosuit. It must be tight," the Doctor dismissed, reaching for his PADD, his attention no longer focusing on Seven anymore.
"Doctor."
The hologram immediately looked up from his PADD. Janeway could have sworn his face paled.
"Find a way. That is an order."
The Doctor's mouth opened to protest, but he closed it and stared, his body language becoming submissive.
"Yes, Captain."
=/\=
Seven appeared out of the sickbay wearing the same turquoise Starfleet uniform, the overhead lights reflecting off of it to bring out light desaturated tones of blue. Janeway gave the ex-Borg a welcoming smile.
"Seven?" she asked.
"He did not design a new suit for me."
Janeway felt the immediate rage within her. She was going to tear that hologram's—
"He has however created an injection that will stimulate skin healing."
Janeway calmed.
"I do not understand why he did not do it in the first place," spoke Seven tonelessly.
"Come to think of it, I don't know why either," Janeway said, reaching out an elbow, "Why don't we go back to my quarters where you can try on some other clothes?"
Seven looked down at the offered elbow, completely distracted. Janeway waited in silence. She had never offered Seven to walk together with elbows hooked.
Seven's face finally leveled with hers. "Is this not a romantic gesture, Captain?"
Janeway's mind stammered, her heartbeat suddenly sounding louder and faster. She struggled to grasp her words, her once warp nine thoughts coming to an abrupt stop.
"Not— not in every case, Seven."
The blonde-haired woman stepped closer to her, sliding her mesh hand through the aperture between Janeway's arm and body, lightly locking their elbows together in one smooth motion.
Seven's head remained turned towards her. Janeway dared to look at the woman. Blue met blue.
"In this case?" Seven asked.
Janeway stared at the Borg. She had come a long way. Their relationship had come a long way; at first tense, then simmering down as they learned to respect each other. It was the perfect solidification of a bond, one that seemed so strong it could never be broken. Janeway would not be the macho, distanced Captain. She loved Seven. There was only one thing she could be concerned about.
"Is that something you want, Seven?" Janeway asked, her voice crisp, but infinitely soft.
Seven stared at her for a long moment, her logical Borg mind at work no doubt.
"Captain, is this an option?"
"Do you want it, Seven?" Janeway repeated the question, despite her urge to reveal herself, despite her urge to tell Seven to call her Kathryn instead of Captain.
"Yes."
Janeway smiled, "Then—" she at first said quietly, "Then I suppose it is." She began walking down the hall, arm-in-arm with Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix 01. There was not a happier Captain in the galaxy.