YourBlood2

Title: It Was Your Blood

Disclaimers: Paramount owns anything and everything associated with Voyager and her characters. I just enjoy playing with them and shall make no money from this. This story depicts women who love women and aren’t afraid to show it. That means sex. If you can’t deal with that, I believe Barney is playing on someone’s television from the last century. If you are too young or this is illegal where you live, leave now.

Spoilers: Imperfection.

Archive: Perfect Misfits for sure. All others, please ask.

Rating: R, just to be safe. If it goes any higher, I’ll make note of it

NOTE: The stuff about the Klingon Blood Myth, I made up. No offense to all the Klingons out there.

NOTE: In the world of my fan fiction, the episodes “Drive,” “Lineage” and all those after never happened.

“Well,” huffed the EMH, “you must be fine. Your ‘cheery’ disposition is showing.” His tone was heavy on the sarcasm.

“I wish to leave now,” Seven said as she began to sit up. Before the Doctor could issue so much as a word, B’Elanna was gently pushing the ex-Borg back down.

“No, Seven,” she said gently. The look in her eyes stopped the drone from her typical reaction---which was to get up anyway.

“Lieutenant,” Seven replied just as softly, “I am fine now. I wish to leave. I am uncomfortable here.”

B’Elanna’s grip loosened slightly, but she did not let go. She could understand Seven’s point. She hated to be stuck in Sickbay, too. She also realized that Seven had spent more time in Sickbay this last year than anyone else on board Voyager. But she wanted to be absolutely certain Seven was well before she was discharged. Borg or not, Seven was still mostly Human.

“Just let the Doctor run his tests and examine you now that you’re awake.” B’Elanna looked intently into Seven’s gorgeous blue eyes, hoping to convey her care and sincerity. “Besides…we need to contact Tuvok.”

Staring back at Torres just as intently, Seven finally nodded her acquiescence. During that time, the EMH had been gathering his instruments and tricorder. He and the engineer had earlier discussed how they would handle Seven when she awoke. Everything had gone as planned. The EMH was also very aware of the change in Torres. Knowing he had no chance with the beautiful and beguiling ex-Borg, he was content to wish happiness for her---whoever she ended up with. If it was to be Lt. Torres all the better. He thought their relationship was a perfect combination of strengths and weaknesses, finely meshed together.   It was ridiculous to think the engineer would ever have been happy with Lt. Paris.

B’Elanna brought Seven her biosuit as the EMH prepared his scans. She turned her back to offer a measure of privacy to the Borg, even though she was fairly sure Seven found the concept of modesty to be ‘irrelevant.’
Seven laid back down on the biobed once she was dressed, and the Doctor and B’Elanna walked back to her side.

As the Doctor ran his tricorder over Seven’s prone body, B’Elanna watched Seven. She could see that the drone’s discomfort was increasing so she was hesitant to proceed with what she knew had to be done.

“Seven?” When she was sure she had Seven’s attention, she continued with, “Is it okay if I call Tuvok now? He needs to know you’re awake. And I know he’s got a lot of questions he needs to ask you.” She kept her tone gentle and soothing. “Do you think you’re ready to answer them?”

Seven hesitated. She tried, again, to sit up. This time B’Elanna let her---going so far as to put a restraining hand on the Doctor’s arm when he attempted to push Seven back down.

B’Elanna saw something in Seven’s eyes that made her hearts clinch. Fear. So she turned to the EMH and quietly asked, “Could you give us a minute? Please,” she added when he hesitated.

Looking back and forth between the two women, the Doctor finally nodded and said, “Certainly. Call me when you’re both ready. Computer, deactivate EMH.”

As he shimmered out of view, B’Elanna turned back toward Seven. Risking a few million questions and possible rejection, she took Seven’s Borg-enhanced hand, once again, in her own---this time while the ex-drone was conscious and fully cognizant of the engineer’s actions. B’Elanna peeked at Seven’s face, looking for a reaction. Seeing the blonde’s furrowed brow she asked, “Seven? Is this okay?” gesturing to their entwined fingers.

Seven gazed at the half-Klingon and stated, “Lieutenant, I am confused---“

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do anything to make you more uncomfortable,” B’Elanna interrupted quickly and started to let go of Seven’s hand.

Seven gave a quick shake of her head and merely tightened her grip, not allowing the engineer to withdraw. Somewhat exasperated, she said softly, “I was not finished.”

B’Elanna blinked. “Oh. Okay, go ahead.”

Seven gave a quick nod. “As I was saying, Lieutenant. I am confused at your behavior. For years you were hostile towards me---I believe because I am Borg?” Seeing B’Elanna nod, she continued, “Over the last year, since your marriage to Mr. Paris---and subsequent divorce---your behavior towards me has undergone a change. Less hostile, more…cool. In the more recent past, you have treated me with great professional respect, of which I am immensely thankful---“

B’Elanna interrupted again to say, “Seven, wait a minute. We don’t have to discuss this now if you aren’t ready.”

Seven sighed deeply and again replied softly, “I was not finished.”

B’Elanna groaned aloud and dropped her head. “I’m sorry. Again. Please continue.” She rubbed her ridges in self-castigation while Seven tried to conceal her amusement.

“Yes, Lieutenant. As I was saying, again, our professional relationship, while not cordial, has reached an understanding. Do you agree?” At Torres’ nod, she continued, “Personally, however, we have no relationship. We have never interacted---not once since I came aboard Voyager---while off-duty. I believe this, too, is because I am Borg, correct?”

All Torres could do was nod dumbly. [She wants nothing to do with me. I blew it---long before I knew who she was to me] It was all she could think at the time.

Seven continued in a tone as quiet and gentle as B’Elanna’s had been from the time Seven woke up. “What has me confused, at this moment, Lieutenant, is this.” She paused and waited for B’Elanna to look at her. When whiskey brown met brilliant blue, she raised their entwined hands up in the air between them; the lights of Sickbay reflecting off the silver mesh exoskeleton, Seven stated softly, “I am still Borg.”

B’Elanna’s head dropped down in defeat. She tried, once again, to remove her hand from Seven’s grasp and was confounded when the former drone refused to release her. “Seven, please,” she whispered.

Seven was not about to let the engineer get away. And B’Elanna was not surprised to hear a soft voice say, “Lieutenant, I was not finished.” Always softly, for Seven knew her arrogance was somewhat off-putting. She only hoped that the beautiful half-Klingon [Did I just think of her as ‘beautiful’?] understood that she was teasing, her brand of humor not always detectable, she knew.

Seven was aware that something very important was happening between the two of them right then. If she let Torres leave or back away, she wasn’t sure she would ever find out what, exactly, that was. And she desperately wanted to know. Having absolutely no experience in these types of matters, she had no idea how to proceed. So she fell back on what came naturally.

“Lieutenant…I am not objecting to this physical contact. Indeed, I find it…soothing. I am merely confused as to why you are doing it. With me. Explain. Please,” she added. For some reason she felt it was important to show Torres that she could adapt. She thought changing her tone would help.

B’Elanna finally looked at Seven---really looked at her. Yes, she had spent the last five hours at the ex-Borg’s bedside, gazing at her features, but it wasn’t the same as looking into her eyes. They’re suppose to be the windows to the soul, so B’Elanna met Seven’s piercing gaze, hoping to find something that would indicate that Seven was receptive to the engineer’s change of heart. [Has she always been this gorgeous?] That thought was quickly followed by another. [Yep. No way the Borg could destroy beauty like that] B’Elanna was just about to speak when she saw it. A hint of what Janeway had been talking about when she said, ‘I’ve seen the way she looks at you.’ [Oh, Kahless, thank you]

Torres brought her free hand to her brow and absently rubbed her forehead ridges. She didn’t notice Seven’s gaze follow the movement. “Seven, I don’t know where to begin.”

When Torres didn’t continue, Seven prompted, “I have heard that it is best to start at the beginning, and when you get to the end…stop.” She finished by raising her implanted brow. [Can she tell I am ‘joking’?]

B’Elanna dropped her hand and huffed out a laugh. “Janeway was right. I’ll just be honest with you, Seven.” She looked at the blonde and tilted her head. “Yes. You’re still Borg. But you’re more, Seven. So much more. And I’m sorry I didn’t see that until now. I only hope I’m not too late,” she whispered.

Seven was captivated. She met B’Elanna’s gaze with her own, just as intense, one. “Not too late for what?” she asked somewhat breathlessly.

B’Elanna brought her free hand down to where their hands were already joined. She caressed Seven’s mesh and asked, “Seven? Do you think you could call me ‘B’Elanna’? I mean, we’re not on duty…and…um…I’d kind of like us to change what you said earlier. About us not having a personal relationship. If we could develop one? Would that be possible?”

“I will call you by the designation of your choice, ‘B’Elanna,’ if it would facilitate a personal relationship between us. I have no objection to such an occurrence. I have desired to be your friend for 547 days, as I believe we have much in common. But try as I might, I could not get you to see that,” Seven finished quietly.

B’Elanna dipped down to catch Seven’s gaze, which had faltered. “Hey,” she began, “I wasn’t ready to see it. I know I was an idiot. But, Seven, I want to explain what happened today, so you can understand what’s going on with me. Okay?”

Seven sat up straighter and lifted her eyebrow. “That would be acceptable.” Her tone was cold, but because B’Elanna was looking her in the eye, she was able to see that Seven was NOT cold. She simply did not know any other way to speak.

B’Elanna attempted to pull her hands away from Seven’s grasp. When the Borg refused, she sighed and said, “Seven, I’m not running away. I just need to pace a little.” Seven reluctantly released the caramel-skinned hand she had been clinging to, and B’Elanna began to pace back and forth in front of Seven’s biobed. Indeed, she didn’t go far. She even stayed close enough that she occasionally brushed against the Borg’s legs as she walked by.

“Before I start, Seven, I think we should call Tuvok,” B’Elanna stated, turning to look at the drone. Seeing the fear return to those gorgeous blue orbs, she approached her. “What is it?” she asked quietly.

Seven’s eyes shifted away. “I am not ready to discuss it. I would prefer to continue with our discussion. It is important to me.”

B’Elanna’s heart melted and her gaze grew warm. “It’s important to me, too, Seven. You have no idea how much. You can probably put off the questioning until the Alpha shift, but he needs to know you’re awake. The Captain, too,” she said gently, leaning against Seven’s legs. When the Borg finally nodded, Torres tapped her commbadge. “Torres to Tuvok.”

“Tuvok, here. Go ahead, Lieutenant.”

“She’s awake, Commander. But she’s requesting that she not answer any questions tonight.”

“Understood. I will be by tomorrow morning at 0800. We can commence the interview at that time. Tuvok out.”

When Seven nodded her thanks, Torres smiled. “We’re not done yet. One more. Two if you count the Doctor.” At Seven’s puzzled look, she continued, “I’d like him to finish examining you so we could take this conversation somewhere more private.” Seven threw her a relieved look, much to B’Elanna’s amusement. “Torres to Captain Janeway.”

“Janeway. Is our patient awake, Lieutenant?”

B’Elanna rolled her eyes. “Yes, Captain. We’ve been talking for a bit, and the Doctor’s about to reexamine her. She seems little worse for wear, though.”

“What did you expect, B’Elanna? She’s Borg.”

B’Elanna threw a smirk in Seven’s direction and replied, “Yes, she is. And she frequently reminds us of that fact. Although…I don’t think I’ll mind the next time that happens,” she finished gently.

“Ah,” replied Janeway. “Tell Seven that I’ll see her in the morning. And, Lieutenant? Don’t keep her up all night. She needs her rest.”

“Yes, ma’am,” came the smug reply. B’Elanna winked at Seven and called out, “Computer, activate EMH.”

When the Doctor came shimmering in to view and stated, “Please state the---ah, Lieutenant,” B’Elanna waved at him.

“We’ve contacted Tuvok and the Captain, but she’s going to wait until tomorrow to answer any questions.”

Seven faced the Doctor and stated, “You may finish examining me now. I wish to leave. Please proceed.”

“Hmph,” came the Doctor’s reply, his holographic eyebrows raised. “She seems her usual self.” He began running his scans. He asked her various questions regarding certain autonomic functions related to her cortical node. After about twenty minutes, he pronounced the Borg fit. “All appears to be repaired. Your nanoprobes have finished and your intracranial swelling has disappeared. You’re good as new---which won’t be good news for our resident violent offender.”

Seeing how the EMH’s final comment affected Seven, B’Elanna snapped, “Thanks. Can she go?” She was suddenly in a hurry to get Seven out of Sickbay.

“Well…I suppose…but she should really spend the night in Sickbay, where I can monitor her.” He was very full of himself at this point.

“Listen,” growled B’Elanna, patience wearing thin, “is there any reason she can’t leave? In case you haven’t noticed…she’s miserable in here!”

The Doctor looked chagrined and turned to his patient. “I’m sorry, Seven. Of course you can leave. But you should have someone nearby in case anything should happen.” He flicked his gaze back in forth between the two women.

B’Elanna threw her hands in the air. “Did you think I was just gonna dump her in the Cargo Bay and go off to bed? Kahless!” She turned to Seven and said, “I’d like you to stay with me tonight. Otherwise I’ll worry.” She had a half-smile on her lips as she said this and waited for the Borg’s response.

Seven had been watching the two of them go at it with a look of tolerant amusement on her face. “That would be acceptable, B’Elanna.” Seven then dropped her head and continued, “I do not believe I would be comfortable in the Cargo Bay.”

With an understanding nod, B’Elanna helped Seven get down off the biobed, and the two of them left Sickbay.

“Deck 10,” commanded Torres when they entered the turbolift. Once they arrived at B’Elanna’s quarters, she asked Seven to sit.   When the former drone did so without comment, Torres shot her a puzzled look, having assumed that Seven would deliver her typical ‘I prefer to stand’ speech.

Seeing the look, Seven said sheepishly, “I am more fatigued than I thought. The walk from Sickbay was somewhat tiring.”

B’Elanna approached Seven and sat down beside her. Taking the human hand in one of her own, she asked, “Do you want to continue our talk later?”

“No, I do not. I am functioning within acceptable parameters. I just…do not prefer to stand,” she stated with just the tiniest hint of a smile in her tone.

B’Elanna smiled back. “Okay, then. I guess I’ll just start at the beginning.” She got up from the couch and began to pace. As it was in Sickbay, Torres did not stray far from Seven.

“The beginning, the beginning,” the half-Klingon muttered. “Start at the beginning…what the hell was the beginning?” B’Elanna vigorously rubbed her face with both hands before continuing. [Shit] “Last night I couldn’t sleep, so I was working on those shield modifications we’d been designing. Well…I came across an equation I couldn’t figure out, and I wanted your opinion. I wasn’t paying attention to the time, so it didn’t occur to me that you’d be regenerating. When I got to the Cargo Bay, there you were. Standing so still. So peaceful. So beautiful,” she whispered.

Seven had an overwhelming urge to touch the engineer at that moment, but she resisted for fear the lieutenant would not continue. So she watched B’Elanna like a hawk, never taking her eyes off the compact figure pacing within inches of her.

“I watched you for a long time, Seven. I’m sorry I violated your privacy, but I couldn’t pull myself away. You were this beautiful, gorgeous golden flame, and I was the pitiful little moth that couldn’t help but be drawn to you---“

It was Seven’s turn to interrupt. “You have never been pitiful, B’Elanna. You are the strongest individual that I know.” She paused. Then said, “Privacy is irrelevant, so I do not feel ‘violated’ that you watched me regenerate. You would not be the first to do so.”

B’Elanna stopped pacing and quickly turned to Seven. She walked right up to the Borg and kneeled down until she was between her legs. Putting her hands on Seven’s knees, she whispered, “Privacy is NOT irrelevant, Seven! Especially now. Given what’s happened to you! No one should have to live in a Cargo Bay. It’s inhuman! I feel sick inside, knowing that someone else did exactly what I did and then attacked you!” B’Elanna was so mad she started shaking. Remembering Seven’s broken form on the deck that morning, she began to tremble violently.

Seven panicked at the sight before her. “B’Elanna, are you damaged? What has occurred?”

B’Elanna tightened her grip on Seven’s knees before replying, “I’m okay...I’m okay. It was your blood, Seven.”

Seven raised her eyebrow. “I do not understand, B’Elanna.” But she desperately wanted to. She brought her hands up and wrapped them around B’Elanna’s wrists and could feel the half-Klingon shaking. “Please explain it to me,” she whispered.

B’Elanna looked up and into Seven’s eyes. Seeing the warmth in the bright blue depths, she wondered how she could have been so blind to what those depths displayed---for any who would just dare to look. [But I’m looking now] “I didn’t start at the beginning,” was all she said.

Seven’s eyebrow did its gymnastics again, and she said, “That is inefficient.” She paused to consider her words, then said, “I realize that my speech and demeanor are seen negatively. Will that hinder our endeavor to alter the nature of our relationship?”

B’Elanna laughed. Looking at Seven, she just let go of the tension. “I’ve done nothing but think about you all day, Seven. And I came to many conclusions while doing so.”

“Indeed,” the ex-drone replied. [I find myself thinking of you often, as well. And have done so for some time]

“Yeah, I did.” B’Elanna briefly let go of Seven’s knee to cup the Borg’s face in one hand. Rubbing her thumb back and forth across a porcelain-smooth cheek, the engineer said, “You are who you are, Seven. Your Borg history is a part of you. You wouldn’t be who you are without it. And I think I like who you are---a lot. I think I always have but didn’t want to admit it. First, because all I could see was the drone. Second, because I was jealous of how much attention you got from the Captain and because you’re so damn smart. Third, because I didn’t want to admit to myself that I found you attractive---“

She was interrupted. “You found me attractive?” Seven asked in disbelief.

B’Elanna grinned. She was falling very hard and very fast for this woman---now that all of her senses have been opened. “You bet,” she said with a smile as she let her hand drop down to Seven’s knee. “And I still do,” she whispered. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, the most honest person I’ve ever met, and the most sincere being I’ve ever come across.” She rubbed her hands up and down the sides of Seven’s legs and continued, “I’ve always thought those things. I just couldn’t tell you. So, no. You just keep being you---speech and all. Because that’s who I’m falling for.” She ducked her head at the last, hesitant to see Seven’s reaction.

Seven’s eyebrow climbed off her forehead. “B’Elanna,” she began somewhat hesitantly, “I am not well-versed in the use of idiomatic expressions; however, it is my understanding that ‘falling for’ denotes romantic interest. Does it not?” She reached out and lifted B’Elanna’s chin with her human hand, forcing the engineer to look her in the eye. She wanted to see what B’Elanna was feeling, and she wanted the smaller woman to see what she was feeling. Seven knew she had trouble displaying her feelings, but she also knew her eyes tended to give her away---if anyone took the time to look.

B’Elanna met those blue eyes shyly and took courage in what she saw there. “Yes, Seven,” she whispered. Trying another tactic, she asked, “Before my marriage to Paris, how often did I come to Astrometrics?”

Confused at the abrupt change in topic, Seven tilted her head. Accessing her eidetic memory, she replied, “In the three and one half years I have been aboard? 56 times.” Her tone was questioning---imploring the half-Klingon to explain herself.

B’Elanna smiled and nodded. “Okay. And after my marriage? How often did I visit?”

[Where is she going with this?] Seven was curious, so she replied, “188 times in the last nine months.”

“And you didn’t find that curious? I mean…Kahless, Seven! These feelings I’m having didn’t just happen over night! I finally figured that out earlier, when I was watching you while you were unconscious,” she finished softly. She reached up and ran her thumb across Seven’s lips [They’re so soft], before sitting back on her heels to await a response.

“So what you are saying is that your increased visits to Astrometrics were just to see me?” asked Seven in confusion.

“Okay,” B’Elanna sighed, “you’re right. It’d be more ‘efficient’ for me to start at the beginning.” Having said that, she got off the floor and started pacing, only to stop and sit again---this time right next to Seven.

Taking the ex-Borg’s hand in hers once again, B’Elanna said, “You know what? I never liked holding Tom’s hand. But I can’t seem to put yours down for very long.” She glanced at Seven’s face and was taken aback at the smile she found on those perfect features. “You should smile more often, Seven.” She winked at the drone and continued, “It’s so gorgeous it makes my hearts dance.”

Seven blushed and nudged the engineer in the side, saying, “The beginning? You were going to start at the beginning?”

B’Elanna nodded, sat back, and began to speak.

“When I was thirteen, my great-uncle Zo’Ren and his family came to visit us on Kessick IV. It was one of the few times any of my mother’s people came to see us. One night I overheard him and his wife telling my mother that their union was the result of the myth of ‘Blood Love.’ They believed that it was not a myth, and they were proof of its validity.” Seeing Seven’s brow furrow in question, she explained, “It states that a Klingon will know and sense their one true love and life mate by the scent of their blood.” Seven nodded but did not question---not wishing to interrupt the half-Klingon’s train of thought with her vast list of questions…yet.

B’Elanna gave her hand a squeeze and continued, “Like all things Klingon at the time, I considered the myth ‘irrelevant,’” she gave Seven a wink and continued with, “and I never gave it another thought. I spent the next sixteen years ignoring and hating my Klingon heritage.” She paused and then whispered, “Then you came aboard Voyager.” [Kahless, she’s cute] B’Elanna was distracted from her explanation when she saw Seven’s brow crinkle in question---again.

“Seven, you forced me to face my Klingon half. Most people just assumed it was Paris who did that---even him. But it wasn’t. It was you. I pretended to hate you because I was afraid of you. Not because you were Borg, but because of what you represented. Don’t you see, baby? We’re the same,” B’Elanna whispered.

“You reminded me that I, too, was different.” B’Elanna rubbed her ridges in disgust, causing Seven to reach over and place her mesh-encased hand over B’Elanna’s smaller one.

“Do not do that. Please,” implored the former drone. “I find the obvious signs of your mixed heritage aesthetically pleasing. I find myself possessing an inexplicable desire to touch them,” she finished quietly.

B’Elanna brought Seven’s enhanced hand back up to her forehead and murmured, “Go ahead, I don’t mind---as long as it’s you doing the touching.”

Seven released the hand she’d been holding and brought it up to join the other, caressing B’Elanna’s face with both. She rubbed her thumbs over the dark cheekbones, down to the small chin, and brushed them across soft lips. She then returned to the proud forehead and traced each ridge reverently as B’Elanna closed her eyes, having felt tears welling up. “Please continue speaking, B’Elanna,” Seven requested gently.

Taking a deep breath, B’Elanna reached up and brought Seven’s hands down into her lap. Looking at the Borg, she said, “That day you came to Engineering…when your cortical node failed? You made me realize something. That life was too short to waste it pretending to be someone I’m not. That it’s too short to pretend to hate someone when I don’t. That I was missing out on knowing someone truly extraordinary.”

Seven’s implanted brow rose as inspiration struck. “It was ten days later that you began to visit Astrometrics on a regular basis.”

B’Elanna nodded and smiled self-deprecatingly. “At the same time, I realized I was wasting my time and attention on Paris. I’d wanted to change our relationship because I thought it was stuck in neutral. What I’d needed to do was end it, but, instead, I’d married the idiot. I wasted too much time with him. But in all fairness, I realize that had I not dated and married him, I wouldn’t have realized my feelings for you.”

Seven could not prevent the question from slipping out and interrupting the beautiful hybrid. “What feelings are those, B’Elanna?”

B’Elanna smiled and softly teased, “I wasn’t finished.”

Seven could no more prevent the grin than she could turn back time. It simply lit up her face. B’Elanna was stunned. Never in her life had she ever seen anything as breathtaking as Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix Zero One at that moment. It was something she would remember for the rest of her life.

“Oh, Kahless,” she sighed breathlessly. “You’re exquisite. Seven...” She stopped and closed her eyes, momentarily speechless. After a moment, she opened them and tried again.

“Seven...let me finish, and I think my feelings will become pretty
clear.” She waited for Seven’s nod, then continued, “So now you know why I’ve been to see you so much. I didn’t really know why I doing it until today. I realize now that I came up with that shield modification proposal just so I could work with you. And THAT brings my explanation to today---or rather, yesterday. As I mentioned earlier, last night I couldn’t sleep, so I got up to work on the shield modifications. I was working on equations to reroute power to the deflector dish, but it wasn’t coming out right. I knew you’d figure it out right away...so I went to see you. I didn’t want to wait until our 0900 meeting.” She took a deep breath and let go of Seven’s hands. The Borg threw B’Elanna a puzzled look when the engineer got up to pace again.

B’Elanna was shaking again, and she didn’t want Seven to know. Unbeknownst to the half-Klingon, Seven’s enhanced vision had already detected the tremors, and her enhanced hearing could pick up her racing heartbeats. Figuring B’Elanna was trying to hide this, Seven momentarily went along with it.

The engineer picked up her narrative. “I didn’t even look at the time and went off looking for you in the Cargo Bay. I walked in and, as I already told you, you were regenerating. I was in there for the better part of an hour...watching you. I got this weird feeling in my chest, so I left. I came back here and tried to go to sleep. I just laid in that bed and tried to figure out what it was about you that fascinated me.” B’Elanna stopped pacing and turned toward Seven. She stood there staring for several moments before continuing.

“This morning...when you didn’t show up for our meeting, I got worried. I couldn’t remember you ever missing a meeting before. The computer told me you were in Astrometrics, but you weren’t there when I arrived. I found your commbadge on the dais, then took off for the Cargo Bay.” At this point, B’Elanna had to stop again to take deep breaths. Seven’s need to comfort the half-Klingon was warring with her need to question about the location of her commbadge, having never been up on the dais in Astrometrics. She decided to do neither. She waited for B’Elanna to finish.

“You weren’t regenerating, but I wanted to make sure you weren’t in there somewhere. I got halfway across the room when I saw you at the base of the steps. There was so much blood, Seven. So much of your blood!” B’Elanna buried her face in her hands and shook. Seven couldn’t stop herself from getting up and going to her. When she got to the smaller woman, she didn’t know what to do. She reached up with one hand and placed it on the back of B’Elanna’s neck. At that point, the engineer just needed the physical reminder that Seven was okay. She reached out and wrapped her arms around Seven’s waist, burying her face in the tall drone’s shoulder. Seven hesitantly placed her arms around B’Elanna’s shoulders, pulling her in closer. She buried her face in the half-Klingon’s hair, inhaling the spicy scent.

“You smell of cinnamon, B’Elanna Torres,” she murmured. “Curious.”

B’Elanna huffed out a laugh against the blonde’s shoulder but did not look up. She just squeezed Seven tighter around the waist.

Seven inhaled again, finding the scent incredibly pleasant and intoxicating. “B’Elanna?”

“Hmmm?” She turned her nose into Seven’s neck.

“Do you now have proof of the validity of the Klingon ‘Blood Love’ myth?” As intelligent as Seven was, she had accurately extrapolated from the half-Klingon’s narrative, the reason for B’Elanna’s change of heart.

B’Elanna, still trembling, sighed. Leaning back slightly, she looked up at Seven but did not release her arms. She looked deep into the brilliant blue eyes of her destiny and answered very simply, “Yes.”

Seven nodded and asked hesitantly, “What happens now?”

B’Elanna smiled sadly and replied, “That depends on you, Seven. On how you feel, on what you want to happen.” She paused for a moment before backing off and leading Seven to the bedroom. In the doorway, she looked up at the blonde and continued, “But we aren’t going to decide that tonight. Janeway’s right. You do need your rest, especially if you aren’t going to regenerate. And we need to focus on finding who attacked you.” She rubbed her hand up and down Seven’s arm. “Then we can talk about ‘altering the nature of our relationship.’ I want you back to your normal, arrogant self,” she teased.

Seven cocked her implanted brow and replied with a hint of said arrogance, “I will remind you of this conversation the next time you refer to me in those terms---so that you will realize I am just being as you wished.”

B’Elanna just nodded and refused to be baited. “I know you’re apprehensive about regenerating again.” Seeing the surprise on Seven’s face, she continued, “You don’t hide your emotions as well as you used to. I just want you to know that I won’t let you regenerate without me there. Don’t give me that ‘I can take care of myself’ look. It’s bullshit. You can’t honestly expect me to NOT want to be there, can you?”

Seven tilted her head in thought and shook her head. “No. You are correct.”

Hearing Seven emit a soft sigh, B’Elanna walked to the replicator, issued a few commands and came back with a small stack of clothing, which she presented to the former Borg while pushing her towards the bathroom.

Seven gave B’Elanna a quizzical look and asked, “What am I to do with these?”

The smaller woman rolled her eyes and, exasperated, said, “Put them on. You won’t be comfortable sleeping in your suit, so I replicated you a set of what I wear to bed---in your size, of course.” She gave the blonde a wink as she pushed her into the bathroom. When B’Elanna was alone, she quickly changed into her own sleepwear and crawled onto the bed to wait for Seven.

Seven emerged from the bathroom to find B’Elanna sitting cross-legged on the bed. [Oh, God] To B’Elanna, she was a vision. Who knew cotton shorts and a T-shirt could be so incredibly sexy? And that hair. [Gulp] Seven had let her hair down to fall onto her shoulders. B’Elanna needed to take deep breaths to get herself under control. Patting the space beside her, she motioned for Seven to lie down. When Seven looked uncomfortably at the space, the engineer asked quietly, “What’s wrong? If you don’t want to sleep beside me, I’ll move to the couch. But, Seven, you’ve got to rest. Come on,” she coaxed.

Seven sighed and said, “I do not know how to perform this function.”

B’Elanna quirked her brow and asked, “Have you ever tried it?”

The blonde approached the bed and gingerly sat on the edge. “About a year ago, the Doctor persuaded me to attempt this form of regeneration. I failed. It is an inefficient means of rejuvenating one’s body. I could not get my cortical processor to cease activity. It was…frustrating,” she murmured, her feelings on the effort clear in her tone. Continuing, she remarked dryly, “So if I am to make this attempt again, I believe it would be helpful if you were beside me.”

Both of B’Elanna’s eyebrows rose to meet her ridges. “Seven…does that mean you trust me?”

Seven’s own eyebrows rose. “Of course. You have never deceived me. But…it is more than that.” She hesitated momentarily, then continued with, “I believe I…require…your presence.” She sighed and again looked frustrated. “I am inadequate at interpreting my feelings. B’Elanna…I believe that I…need…you.”

B’Elanna reached out and placed her fingers over Seven’s lips. “Hush. I understand. Come on…lay down…rest.” She helped Seven recline on the bed. When the Borg lay motionless on her back, arms straight out at her side, the smaller woman sighed. “Seven, relax. You can’t look at this as a pass-fail test. You just have to let it happen. I’m right here. Together…we can do this.” She brushed a few stray blonde hairs away from the classically sculpted planes of the Borg’s face and lay down beside her. When Seven only relaxed marginally, B’Elanna sat up. “Computer, lights out.” When the room fell dark, she leaned down and whispered into Seven’s ear, “Turn on to your right side.” When Seven complied, B’Elanna snuggled up to the former drone’s back and threw her arm around the impossibly small waist.

When she felt the warmth against her back, Seven froze. [This is a most pleasing sensation] “B’Elanna?”

“Shhh. Relax, baby,” came the soft response. B’Elanna brushed the hair away from Seven’s nape and nuzzled her nose into the smooth skin.

Seven felt the need to explain the sensations she was feeling but didn’t know how. “I am enjoying this,” she whispered sleepily. “It feels…good.”

“I’m glad,” came the same soft voice, lulling the drone into a more relaxed state. “Sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”

The tone, coupled with the intense warmth against her back, accomplished what no Vulcan meditation technique, holographic subroutine, or warm milk could. Within minutes, Voyager’s resident Borg succeeded at a task she had not done in 21 years.

She slept.

To be continued...