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. *** *** *** 0600, the next morning [Cinnamon] It was Seven’s first waking thought in 21 years.  She slowly opened her eyes, and what she saw caused a small smile to grace her lips---albeit a fractionally small one---B’Elanna, still asleep, her body supporting Seven’s. [If this is what waking up is always like, I wish to continue this form of rejuvenation] This thought was prompted by the fact that the half-Klingon was flat on her back with her right arm wrapped around Seven, the ex-Borg’s head pillowed on her chest, with blonde locks spread everywhere, Seven’s right arm and leg thrown over B’Elanna’s body. [I am safe] Her thoughts scattered when her gaze, after taking in the entire scene and returning to B’Elanna’s face, met deep, whiskey brown eyes. Seven, who had never woken up with anyone before, had no preconceived notions about propriety or awkwardness.  She had a pressing thought, so she spoke what was on her mind.  “B’Elanna Torres, my regeneration period exceeded all expectations.  I believe you are the cause.  Thank you.” B’Elanna, who was not a morning person and was, as such, not fully awake, smiled sleepily, “Hey.  How are you feeling?” Seven sat up and turned around to face the recumbent half-Klingon, and sat cross-legged on top of the blankets.  “As I am lying here with you, I am experiencing feelings that I do not know how to interpret,” she said softly.  She reached up with her human hand and stroked B’Elanna’s forehead gently.  “I am unsure how to proceed.  Also…I am experiencing feelings of apprehension regarding my meeting with Commander Tuvok.  There is also the additional matter of your scent.  It is distracting me and causing my cortical processor to malfunction. Yet, I believe it to be the most amazing scent I have ever encountered.  I believe I now have a strong fondness for cinnamon.”  She finished by moving her hand down the bridge of B’Elanna’s nose and touching her lips lightly, before finally resting her hand back in her lap. B’Elanna, now fully awake after listening to Seven, could not control her smile.  “Seven,” she breathed, “I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say at one time when you weren’t giving a report.”  Seven smiled somewhat sadly and murmured, “Please help me, B’Elanna.  I do not know what to do.” B’Elanna realized that Seven was truly discomfited by what she was feeling. [It’s way too early for this, bang’wI’] The small engineer sat up and mirrored Seven’s pose, putting the two women very close together, facing one another, yet side by side.  She rubbed her brow ridges in thought before speaking in a soft tone.  “Let’s try to take these in order of difficulty, okay?”  She ran a finger down the bridge of her own nose before continuing, “I didn’t know I smelled like cinnamon, Seven.  If it causes you to malfunction, you might be allergic---“ “I am not allergic,” Seven interrupted quickly.  “That is not the reaction I encounter.”  She paused, leaned over to the half-Klingon, and inhaled deeply, her nose finding its way into B’Elanna’s neck. The action sent shivers through the engineer’s body.  “What IS your reaction, Seven?” she whispered, tilting her neck to allow the drone more access. Seven moved her head back until it rested against B’Elanna’s.  She then softly answered, “It makes me dizzy, my heart rate increases by a factor of five point two, my respiration increases…I have rarely encountered this phenomena before…and only in your presence.” [Thank you, Kahless] B’Elanna felt tears well up in gratitude to whatever being granted her this chance to be with Seven.  “Seven…” She had to pause, emotion thick in her voice.  “You’re not malfunctioning, baby.”  She leaned fully against the side of the Borg. [Mine] Seven felt the firm body lean more fully against her own.  The resulting warmth that permeated her body also gave her cause for concern. She mentioned it to the half-Klingon and asked, “Then what is the cause, B’Elanna?” B’Elanna let her head fall to Seven’s shoulder.  Not knowing exactly how to explain it to the Borg, she hesitated.  “Seven…” She sighed.  Thinking for a few more minutes, she then continued, “When I’m with you…like this,” she pointed to how close the two of them were sitting, “touching you, breathing in YOUR scent, or just looking at you, I get a little dizzy and my heart rate and respiration increase.  When you touch me…like you did a minute ago…I get a…jumpy…feeling in my stomach and I quiver.  And I LIKE it.” “But WHY does it happen?  What is occurring?” Seven lifted her Borg-enhanced hand to the half-Klingon’s neck and stroked it softly. B’Elanna could not control the soft, low growl from escaping.  Seven’s touch was electrifying to her opened senses.  “I only feel that way when I’m strongly attracted to someone, Seven.  And I’ve NEVER felt this strongly before.”  She whimpered slightly when Seven’s touch migrated down her back, rhythmically stroking the taut muscles. Seven continued to absently caress B’Elanna’s back, deep in thought.  Finally, after much consideration, she said, “Then this is arousal?  I admit that I find you aesthetically pleasing and have desired to be in your company for a great many months.  I have experienced these feelings before…while in your presence.  I just did not know why.” She paused her stroking and turned her head.  Into B’Elanna’s ear she whispered, “They are very pleasant feelings.”  She inhaled the intoxicating scent deeply before withdrawing. “Seven,” murmured B’Elanna somewhat breathlessly, “I’m pretty sure after yesterday that I love you.  But…you don’t love me.  It sounds like you’re attracted to me, but…” She stopped---overwhelmed by the desire she had to be loved by THIS woman.  “I don’t want to rush you, bang’wI.  This is too important.  You’re it for me, Seven.” Seven pulled back to look B’Elanna directly in the eye.  “I have never been in love before, B’Elanna.  So I am not sure what ‘being in love’ feels like.  I know that when I am on duty, 36 percent of my time is involuntarily utilized by thoughts of you.  When I am off duty, the percentage increases to 67.  I know that I find you to be volatile, overly emotional, arrogant, prideful, beautiful, compassionate, intelligent, stubborn, demanding, condescending, intriguing, fiercely loyal, maddening, and breathtaking.  If love feels like my heart pounding so hard I fear it may force its way out of my chest whenever you enter a room, if it is a feeling of absolute pride when you come up with yet another unorthodox method of saving Voyager from certain defeat---even though I had nothing to do with the solution, if it is wanting to destroy Lieutenant Paris for doing nothing more than being the one married to you, if it is seeing yours as the last face in my mind as my regeneration cycle begins and the first I see as it ends, if it is always having a desire to please you and not knowing how, if it is wishing you would see me as an individual worthy of attention, if it is spending 3,126 hours contemplating ways to garner your attention, if it is the desire to be in constant contact with you, if it is that same ‘jumpy’ feeling in my abdomen whenever I am privileged enough to receive your touch, if it is the knowledge that nothing is more important to my existence than your happiness, then I believe I am…‘in love.’  With you.”  She paused before continuing, “B’Elanna…is that love?”  Seven barely breathed as she waited for a reaction.  Tears gathered in the half-Klingon’s eyes.  She let them fall.  Her heart was pounding.  Her palms were sweaty.  “Oh, Seven,” she whispered, “I don’t deserve you.  How could I have been so blind?” Seven tilted her head in confusion.  “B’Elanna…I do love you.  I have for 421 days.  I was just unaware of what ‘arousal’ felt like.  There is no other I wish to experience such a phenomenon with.  If I understand the phrase correctly, then you…‘are it’…for me, as well.  I do not know why you could not see our compatibility prior to yesterday, but I ‘am glad’ you see it now.”  She lifted her human hand to touch B’Elanna’s cheek gently. The engineer leaned into the touch.  She turned her head and pressed a kiss to the palm of Seven’s hand, bringing her own up to hold it in place.  “Mine,” she growled.  Her Klingon side was making its presence known after listening to Seven’s declaration.  She scraped her teeth across the palm hard enough for Seven to realize what was happening but not hard enough to pierce the flesh.  She soothed the nip with her tongue, offering another low growl at hearing Seven’s soft gasp. Seven’s eyes watered, not because she experienced pain, but because of the symbolism inherent in the gesture.  “Yours,” she whispered reverently.  She leaned her forehead against B’Elanna’s, eyes closed, recognizing the magnitude of the moment.  B’Elanna released Seven’s hand to move both of her own behind the blonde’s head, holding her in place.  “Seven…I need to kiss you now,” she pleaded in a whisper. Seven gulped and murmured, “I am agreeable to this, but…I do not know how to proceed.”  She dipped her head, ashamed and bashful.  B’Elanna did not like that at all.  Cupping Seven’s face in both hands, she forced the Borg to look at her.  “It’s okay, baby,” she said, still whispering, believing the moment too special to do otherwise.  “Just follow my lead.”  “I adapt quickly,” Seven murmured back.  That having been said, the half-Klingon leaned in and pressed her lips to Seven’s.  [Dear God and Kahless!] B’Elanna then lost all ability to process thought.  She just felt.  The heat was intense, the emotion heartfelt.  B’Elanna opened her mouth and lightly flicked her tongue against Seven’s lips, begging entrance.  Having never felt anything like the sensations now occurring within her body, Seven had no recourse but to follow B’Elanna’s bidding.  She opened her mouth and welcomed the intrusion.  Their tongues dueled gently, exploring the intimate recesses of each other’s mouth.  It was the most intense and perfect kiss B’Elanna had ever been a part of.  Growling softly, she toned back the intensity, nibbled gently at Seven’s bottom lip, and released the Borg. Gasping softly, B’Elanna rested her forehead back against Seven’s and whispered, “I love you, baby.  So much.”  She brushed soft kisses against the blonde’s cheekbones, taking care to give attention to the starburst implant at her jaw line, then her eyes---which had closed---then the bridge of her nose, then returned to rest her head against Seven’s.  Seven was also breathing somewhat heavily, her nanoprobes unable to completely keep up with all the physiological changes her body just underwent.  “I believe that two of my previous three concerns have now been addressed,” she teased, now confident in B’Elanna’s feelings for her, having felt the overwhelming emotion in the kiss they had shared. Torres chuckled softly.  She moved back to gaze at Seven, her eyes slightly glazed over.  “So you can now ‘interpret’ your feelings?” she asked with a small smirk. Seven raised her implanted brow regally and replied, “Indeed,” paused and then said, “My feelings are the result of being what the database refers to as…‘hopelessly in love.’  That is your fault.” Another dramatic pause, then “Thank you.”  Her blue eyes twinkled.  B’Elanna laughed.  “You’re very welcome, but the pleasure is all mine,” she said. Seven gave a smirk, touched her own lips and replied, “No…it is not.” Torres cuffed the Borg on the shoulder and chuckled again.  Turning serious, she asked softly, “Why are you nervous about seeing Tuvok?  His questions are gonna be routine, baby.  And I’ll be there with you.  I promise I won’t let you go through this alone.”  Picking up Seven’s Borg hand, she stroked it gently.  “You won’t ever have to be alone again,” she murmured. Seven hesitated and looked away.  B’Elanna took hold of the Borg’s strong chin and forced Seven to look at her.  “Tell me,” she demanded.  Seven was startled at the tone and nearly fell back to a Borg response…until she looked Torres in the eye.  She saw the worry evident in the dark depths and relented.  “B’Elanna…” she started then stopped.  Looking away briefly to collect herself, she continued in a nearly inaudible voice, “I remember being attacked.”  She let her head fall down and whispered, “It was…unpleasant.” “What?” growled the half-Klingon.  The thought of Seven being conscious during the attack made her want to throw up.  So instead…she got angry.  Not sure why her love was angry, hoping she hadn’t just ruined their relationship before it got started, Seven hesitated.  Seven started to get up, and Torres put a hand on her arm.  “Hey…wait.  Where are you going?”  Her tone was mildly gruff, but then again…she was still angry. Seven was lost.  She was in unfamiliar territory.  This vulnerability to another person was foreign ground.  She shook off B’Elanna’s hand and stood up.  She turned around and put both hands behind her back in her typical ‘Borg’ pose.  It usually drove Torres’ crazy.  Today, it just left her confused.  She grew alarmed when Seven fell back to ‘Borg-speak.’  “Lieutenant, it is obvious I have said or done something to upset you.  I do not wish to make you uncomfortable.  I shall leave.”  That said, she turned to enter the bathroom to retrieve her biosuit.  She didn’t quite make it. “Seven, stop right there!” B’Elanna had no idea what just happened, but she wasn’t about to let Seven leave.  And she sure as Gre’thor wouldn’t be called ‘Lieutenant’ in her own quarters by this woman!  She got up and walked over to her drone.  When Seven didn’t turn around, she wrapped her arms around her from behind and leaned her forehead to rest between Seven’s shoulder blades.  “What’s going on?” she whispered.  “You haven’t done a damn thing, baby.  Why would you think that?”  She gave Seven’s trim waist a squeeze. [What is this pressure behind my eyes? Tears? Unacceptable] “I have angered you,” Seven whispered over her shoulder. B’Elanna swallowed back the lump that formed in her throat.  She squeezed her eyes closed and took a deep breath to calm herself.  She had forgotten how inexperienced Seven was with personal interactions.  “No, baby.  You didn’t,” she murmured.  “Look at me, Seven.  Please,” she implored. When B’Elanna loosened her grip on the blonde’s waist, Seven turned around.  She was suffused with warmth when Torres continued to embrace her from the front.  Not knowing what to do with her arms, she wrapped them around the half-Klingon’s shoulders, hugging her. B’Elanna tipped her head back and looked up.  “I am angry,” she started, tightening her grip when Seven began to pull away, and continued, “but not at you.”  Seeing Seven’s confusion, she said, “I’m sick at the thought that you were aware of everything that happened to you.  My first reaction was to throw up,” she smirked.  “But, instead, I got angry.  I’m sorry that you thought I was mad at you.  I’m not.  But, Seven, you know I’m emotional.  I’m volatile.  It’s just who I am.  I never thought I’d admit this out loud…but I LIKE fighting with you…most of the time.  That’s not gonna change just because I love you,” she teased, trying to lighten the mood. It worked.  B’Elanna saw the relief pass over Seven’s classic features.  As a final act of reassurance, Torres leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to Seven’s chin before nuzzling into her neck. Seven felt much better all of a sudden.  She pressed her face into B’Elanna’s hair to inhale her new favorite scent, then murmured, “I am relieved.  I love you and do not wish to damage this relationship before its inception.”   Torres chuckled.  “You can’t get rid of me that easily, Seven.  You’re mine, remember?” “Indeed,” came the reply, complete with raised eyebrow.  Seven then mumbled, “But are you mine?” B’Elanna heard the utterance, and her eyes opened wide.  Pulling back, she gazed at the troubled features.  “Seven?”  Seeing the absolute love swirling in the brilliant blue eyes, her hearts answered for her.  “Yes, of course I’m yours.  I gave my hearts to you yesterday.” Seven looked intently at Torres, seeking assurance.  What she saw did the trick.  “Acceptable.” B’Elanna smiled.  “Now that we have that cleared up, can we finish our Tuvok discussion?”  She could have kicked herself when she felt Seven tense up.  As much as she hated to upset the Borg, she was aware that they needed to talk about it.  Seven pulled away and said, “I will comply, but…I would like to change into my biosuit.”  Seeing Torres’ confused look, she continued with head tilted, “Though I can offer no logical explanation, I feel a measure of…control…in my suit that I do not feel in casual clothing.” B’Elanna’s gaze softened.  “I guess I can understand that.  I’ll go replicate breakfast while you change, then.”  When Seven nodded and entered the bathroom, Torres left the bedroom and walked to the replicator.  Deciding they would both eat better if they postponed the discussion, it was nearly an hour later before B’Elanna found out what was really bothering Seven of Nine.  They were ensconced on the couch when Seven finally began to speak. “I was…damaged…during the attack,” Seven murmured.  “I do not mean physically.  That was obvious.  I am experiencing an emotional pain now that I have not felt since the Captain first severed me from the Collective.  I am…familiar…with feelings of animosity directed toward me by various members of the crew,” she paused to take hold of Torres’ hand, squeezing it gently in understanding for how far the half-Klingon had come for the two of them to reach this point in their relationship.  “Until now, I had never considered that animosity to be a physical threat.  I possess superior strength and the assimilated knowledge of thousands of warrior species.  I never believed myself to be in danger.  Vulnerability was irrelevant.  I do not believe that to be true anymore,” she trailed off.  B’Elanna reached up to wipe away a tear before Seven could.  Her throat was so closed up with tears, she wondered if she would be able to speak.  Clearing her throat, she tried to speak.  Nothing came out.  So instead, she reached up to wrap her arms around Seven’s neck in a fierce hug, trying to convey all that she was feeling. Seven continued, “I do not feel…safe…anymore, B’Elanna.”  She buried her face in the engineer’s shoulder, her body shaking slightly.  When she was able, Torres murmured, “You’re safe here…in my arms.”  Seven’s response was to tighten her hold.  After several minutes, Seven shifted restlessly, eventually pulling out of B’Elanna’s embrace.  Unable and unwilling to look the engineer in the eye, Seven said, “There is something I must tell you.  Before I do, please remember that I have loved you for a very long time.” B’Elanna’s brow crinkled in worry.  She had no clue where the Borg was going.  Seven was acting like she was anticipating Torres to unleash a temper tantrum, and that gave the Klingon cause for concern. Seven sighed and whispered, “I am…aware…of my surroundings while I regenerate.  I was aware that you were watching me two nights ago.” B’Elanna’s mouth fell open.  “Seven?  Does that mean you know who attacked you?” To be continued...