Title: It happened one Night.
(Sequel to: Object of her affection)
Author: Veronica Jane Williams
Series: Voyager
Codes : VOY, P/7
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Paramount created the sultry Seven. I just borrowed
her so she could let down her hair a little. This little smut
piece is mine.
Warning: This story is a follow-up to "Object of her Affection";
it contains scenes of a sexually explicit nature between certain
consenting adults on Voyager.
SUMMARY: It happened one night. Now Seven wants to be Annika.
IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT
For Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct to the Unimatrix 01, six weeks
passed since the night Tom Paris rejected her advances which she
thought was motivated by a high degree of selfless love. She had
little idea how to handle this situation that was so totally
foreign to her, one that so completely inured her hitherto
unexplored emotions. She imagined that every crew member she
passed in the corridors could see that she had brazenly offered
her services to Tom. While responses like "that is irrelevant"
threatened to burst from her lips, she knew that her celebrated
cool as ice guard had to slip into place if she were to hide her
turbulent feelings.
During the past six weeks she managed to avoid too close contact
with Tom, knowing with new and painful insight that she would
blush, become embarrassed in his presence. Embarrassed about
something she thought six weeks ago was no big deal, to use
Tom's turn of phrase. Then it had been to perform a basic
biological function, an act of intercourse which should have
left no residue of emotional connection, of losing herself and
giving her heart. Her feelings and emotions which up to now had
merely been unnecessary adjuncts to her clinical and disciplined
way of doings things, were utterly scrambled, loosened in the time
Tom Paris made her feel like a woman. He made her feel all those
things while he made love to her. Made love to her? He simply used
his hands and mouth with such expertise that she reeled with all
sorts of delicious sensations.
How was she to know at all that her heart, a vital organ necessary
for her continued existence would betray her so? Her heart seemed
to burn every time she thought of him. It lurched every time she
passed him, or when he spoke to her
****
It was the following day, after her regeneration had been halted
abruptly for the umpteenth time that she decided a visit to the
sickbay would result in some cure for her Borg insomnia.
"Doctor... Oh, it's you," she said as she saw Tom standing at a
computer console monitoring data. Tom swung round when he heard
her voice.
"Seven! What brings you here?" he asked, a query clear in his
eyes.
"Where is the Doctor?" she asked sharply, managing to look him
in the eye.
"He's with the Captain, in her quarters. Is there anything I can
help with?" he asked as he approached her. She took a step back
as if afraid that he would touch her. .
"No - no... it's nothing, Tom," she said quickly, but she felt
a sting behind her eyelids and knew she would burst into tears
if she did not - did not get out of...
"Seven!" Tom called as he watched her hurry out of sickbay
without an explanation. He cursed himself, knowing he was the
cause of her discomfiture. He wondered what she wanted to see
the Doctor about. Seven was in radiant and superlative health,
she had to have another reason for wanting to see their EMH.
He was concerned about her. She had been gradually avoiding him
since that night six weeks ago. He felt such a pig for hurting her
like that that night. She had left his quarters very distraught.
He could see it in the way she squared her shoulders, as if she
physically forced herself to discipline, and not give in to what
he thought was her obvious distress. He saw it in the way her lips
trembled and her eyes shone, the blue glass breaking into pieces
as they filled with tears. But she held herself rigid, refused to
give in to her pain. She left with so much dignity as she could
muster. And he?
He never slept that night.
It bothered him that he kept thinking of her, that she stole into
his thoughts, most of the time unbidden. He was supposed to pine
for B'Elanna, wasn't he? He was still emotionally attached to
B'Elanna, wasn't he? So why was he suddenly thinking about a
blue-eyed ice-princess so often lately? After weeks of watching
B'Elanna settle surprisingly into a sort of calm, after weeks of
turning over and over in his mind and heart his own guilt and
remorse that he had been the cause of the relationship failing,
he knew he was deluding himself. He had been letting B'Elanna go
long before she ended it, he thought. It struck him with such a
force that he sat down on the biobed, feeling the blood rush to
his head and ears, a noise that thundered along with the
realisation that it was mainly his ego that got a bashing the day
he discovered B'Elanna with Bristow. He had refused to entertain
the thought that he could possibly lose out to someone else for
B'Elanna's affections, that he was conceited enough to imagine
that B'Elanna could not possibly have a satisfying relationship
with a person other than himself. But he had seen in the past six
weeks how B'Elanna became more centered, more assured and less
bristling, not the restlessness she had experienced while she was
with him.
He was mightily resentful in the beginning, feeding his own
jealousy and envy, but the last few days... he wondered why it
didn't hurt so much any more. At least not with that sharp,
intense pain of the beginning when all he wanted to do was drown
his sorrow in endless glasses of bourbon. Bourbon... then Seven
came...
Seven!
He jumped up from the biobed, started pacing the sickbay. He had
to remain until the EMH returned, since his own duty shift ended
only in two hours time. He was suddenly restless, wanting to
speak to Seven and give her some indication at least that he did
not reject her, did not really want to spurn her advances. He
wanted to comfort her, make those clouds that he saw in her eyes
go away, for he knew he was the cause of it. It was a new and
not unpleasant sensation that took hold of him - correction, that
consolidated itself in his heart: he cared about her. He cared
a great deal. He did not ever want to see Seven hurt. Her
demeanour, her rigidity and sometimes alarming honesty and
outspokenness belied her tender heart, her ability to be as
soft and kind as the next person. It belied her genuine naiveté
about such basic functions as making love. She was as vulnerable
as the next person. Therefore in need of protection. He wanted
to be that person to fulfill that need in her, he thought with
great tenderness.
Drat, where is that EMH when you need him, he thought impatiently.
He knew Seven was supposed to be regenerating right now, so why
was she out of it and in sickbay?
"Computer," he commanded suddenly, "locate Seven of Nine."
"Seven of Nine is in her quarters," came the impersonal voice of
the computer.
"When was Seven of Nine designated quarters?" he asked, frowning.
She was Borg, and had slowly become human again. She still
needed to regenerate. "Borg do not sit," she often reminded them.
If they didn't sit, why would she need to be prone, like lying on
a bed? It was curious he thought, since he never thought of her
being assigned to quarters before.
"Computer, when was Seven of Nine assigned quarters?" he asked
mainly to satisfy his curiosity but also a dawning idea.
"On stardate 52403.5."
Two days before she came to me on the holodeck. More than six
weeks ago. Curious. He grimaced. He sounded like Tuvok.
"Computer, where is Seven's quarters located?"
"Deck 4 section 15."
"What?"
"Please rephrase your request."
"No, no questions," he said quickly. They were on the same deck
and he didn't know. Then he remembered that one or two small
cabins were vacant there. But it made greater sense since the
cargo bays were on deck 4. He doubted that Seven used the cabin
until...today?
He knew he had to see her before the day was out. Also to find out
why she wanted to see the Doctor...
********
At 2100 Tom stood in front of Seven's designated quarters and
pressed the chime. There was no response. He pressed again,
pursing his lips determinedly. There was a long pause before he
heard the command to enter. The doors slid open and he stepped
inside, hearing the gentle swish as it closed again.
She stood in the lounge, a few paces away from him, on attention
with her hands stiffly at her sides. She was in her stunning blue
cat suit, the one he removed from her body as though it were a
second skin the night he almost made love to her.
"Hello, Seven."
"Tom."
"I'd like to speak with you, Seven, if I may - "
"I do not see any reason that you should wish to engage in any
social interaction with me, Tom. You have made that clear when
you - when you defended your position to me six weeks ago..."
"I needed time, Seven, to resolve certain issues," he said softly
as he stepped up to her, took her by her arm and led her to the
couch. There he pressed her gently to sit down, and then he seated
himself next to her. He noticed her heightened colour, the eyes
that shone, yet she tried to mask whatever it was she felt. He
hoped that she was secretly glad to have him there. He touched
her cheek gently. She closed her eyes then looked at him again.
"You have resolved those issues, Tom?" she asked and he heard
a definite hopeful sound in her voice. He cupped her other cheek,
brought his lips so close that the touch on hers was a mere
whisper, like a butterfly softly fluttering her wings. Yet the
touch ignited an intense pleasure in her that suffused her entire
body.
"I think I have. Yeah, I have..."
"Is that why you are here, Tom?"
"Boy, you really think I'm a jerk, don't you? I - " he paused,
traced her lips with his thumb. "I care about you," he said
hoarsely. "And right now you need to regenerate, is that it?"
She pulled away from him and turned her face away. She didn't want
to look at him, but he had seen her distress. He had an idea what
was going on with her, and it worried him.
"I - I am unable to complete my cycles every time I have to
regenerate, Tom," she said slowly, then turned to look him in the
eyes, trying to gauge his reaction.
"I gathered that much. I've been to cargo bay 2, and studied the
computer data of the last number of weeks. You have not had
proper "sleep" for weeks, Seven!"
"I - I am awake even when I am supposed to "sleep" as you say,"
she offered quietly, rising from the couch and moving to stand
against the desk.
"And your present condition of "insomnia" was brought on by
what, Seven?" he asked as he too rose and went to stand in front
of her. He took her hands in his, willing her silently to tell
him the truth so that he could help her. He already sensed he
was the root of her sleeplessness, but he had this inclination
to hear it from her.
"I - " she looked away, but her cupped her cheeks again and made
look at him. He was glad she did not resist the action, and it
gave him hope that she was not completely averse to him being
there, standing so close to her, wanting to - dear God... was
that what was happening? He wanted to comfort her, dammit!
"I think of you all the time, Tom. It seems I have no resistance
when you are in my thoughts, torturing me..."
"How do I torture you?" he asked huskily, his mouth close to
hers. She could feel his warm breath fanning her face, inciting
her own desire to be touched by him again.
"I dream that you touch me... like you did that night..."
"You experience erotic thoughts, Seven?" he asked, planting a
soft kiss against her lips. She leaned into him, wanting to
prolong the sensation, but he pulled away again.
"Yes..." she said shyly now. "Yes, I do... I cannot stop what
I feel for you, Tom Paris. I tried to, you know. I tried very
hard. But I have found it impossible. It is why I can't find
any rest..."
"What do you feel, Seven?" he whispered softly, his blue eyes
piercing, so blue she thought if it was possible that she could
die in those moments of sheer need for him, she would.
"I love you, Tom," came her soft answer.
"Oh, Seven," he groaned before he took her in his arms and held
her close for long moments, his hand pressing her head gently
so that she nuzzled her face in his neck. He felt such an
overwhelming feeling of protection, he knew was halfway to
reciprocating her feelings. He held her away from him, and looked
deeply into her own blue eyes, now misting over with tears.
"Don't cry, sweetheart," he croaked again as he hugged her
fiercely to him, feeling how she shuddered. After a few moments
she became calm again and when she looked at him, she smiled.
Seven smiled at him.
His heart turned over.
"It's time to remove your suit again, Annika," he said softly as
he led her to her room. He made her sit on the edge of her bed,
then knelt in front of her. She looked quizzically at him as
he parted her knees and settled himself between them, his arms
going around her waist. He rested his head against her impressive
bosom and felt like swooning at the way it turned him on. He was
aroused, painfully so, but Seven was still an innocent...he was
going to take his time...he hoped...
"Something I've fantasized about for a long time, Annika," he
whispered as he removed the pin from her hair. He gasped as her
golden hair cascaded in soft, gentle falls around her face. It
softened her appearance incredibly. He ran his fingers through
her hair and sighed.
"You like my hair down, Tom?" she asked softly.
"Always, when I'm here with you, Annika." He noticed that she
didn't object to him calling her by her birth name, and it
emboldened him.
"Then I shall wear it down, when I'm here..."
"Good," he murmured again as his hand went to her back and he found
the hidden zipper to the suit pulling it down very gently. His hand
seared her skin where he touched her. She moaned her pleasure.
"Do you want this to happen, Seven?"
"Annika," she whispered. "Yes..." she said as her hands reached
for his jacket and she opened it, feeling his skin through the
fabric of the turtleneck. He gasped as she touched his nipples.
"You are learning quickly, Annika. Too quickly," he managed as she
started to rub his chest while his hands were at her shoulders,
pushing the soft blue stretch fabric of her suit down and over her
magnificent breasts. He buried his face against them and groaned
out loud. Then he captured one nipple in his mouth, heard her
own sharp intake of breath as he pulled on her nipple, starting
a sucking that had her squirming against him. She pressed closer,
her hands holding his head. She felt the ripple of intense pleasure
tearing through her, her pubis very wet, awash with her juices.
"Love me, Tom..." was all she could say as he turned his attention
to the other nipple that stood already erect in complete sympathy
with its partner. It quivered, waiting for Tom's mouth to cover
it. When he did his mouth engulfed her aureole, her flesh so sweet
and soft he reeled with the pleasure, his own erection hurting
like hell as it begged for release. When he released her, it was
to push her suit over her hips. She stood up as he pulled it down,
his mouth immediately reaching for her pubis. She gasped out loud
when she felt his hot mouth covering her. And all he said was:
"You are ready..." He quickly removed the offending garments
together with her shoes. She stood naked in front of him. He faced
her. Blue eyes looking into blue eyes, hot and flushed. Blonde
hair shining in the soft overhead light. Noses almost touching.
Her hands were at his side, pulling his turtleneck up and over his
waist, just as he said:
"Undress me," in a hoarse voice. He lifted his arms as she pulled
his shirt off him, her mouth latching onto his nipple.
"God, Seven..."
"Annika..."
"Okay..." He squirmed as sharp needles of intense electric heat
stung every nerve cell in his body. "Ahhh..."
"I - I am sorry..."
"No! no... it's perfectly okay... I like when you do that...,"
he murmured as her teeth grazed his nipple. Damn he thought. Where
did she learn this?
Her fingers hooked in his trouser band and slowly she pushed it
down, taking his briefs with it. His stiff erection sprang from
its restraining garment, bobbing gently near her face. He used
his feet to pushed the rest off, his boots already divested. Her
hands held his hot shaft gently and she looked a few seconds,
watching with fascination the tiny gleaming pre-cum droplet at
the opening of the little slit. Her tongue snaked out and caught
it, lapping along the slit to catch it in her mouth. The feather
like touch sent him reeling.
"Annika..." He held onto her shoulders and brought her up to
stand again. She looked at him, then said softly:
"You are beautiful..."
"Annika..." he croaked again before he pushed her gently against
the bed so that her knees buckled. He helped her down to lie fully
on the bed.
He lay next to her, his hands touching her everywhere, caressing
her nipples. He bent over her to nip her ear lobe. She gave a
little cry of pleasure at the touch. His mouth traveled to the
hollow in her neck, licking with his tongue. He half reclined
over her, his one knee parting her legs. She gasped and he saw
a slight panic rise in her eyes.
"Shhh... it will be alright, Annika," he whispered. She was
calmed by the promise she heard in his voice.
He marveled at the absolute flat planes of her stomach; it looked
so perfect that he groaned as his tongue dipped into her navel.
Her hands were in his hair and when he looked at her flushed
face he thought he had never seen her look more beautiful,
with her hair fanned out about her on the pillow. He sought out
her navel again, dipping his tongue in and out. Her hips rose to
meet his tongue and he pressed her down gently again.
He mouth slid further down, tasting the slight saltiness of her
skin as a film of sweat covered it. She was breathing heavily and
her body arched the second his tongue touched her pubis, parting
the damp curls expertly. He found her centre, nudging her soft
folds gently away before he thrust his tongue in her. She raised
her hips to match his rhythm as he pushed hard in her. He stopped
as he felt her climax building in her.
"Please... more..." she pleaded.
He lapped at her, his tongue parting her sheath to reveal the tiny
pink and erect nub. He captured it between his teeth and she cried
out again as the pleasure tore through her. She heaved once then
gave herself over the rocking climax. She pushed hard against his
mouth, a long thing wail emanating from her as he held her hips
and waited for her to come down. She floated down gently, her
breathing coming in short gasps. He slid between her legs and
himself poised above her, kissing her passionately. He was drowning
in her heat; her eyes heavy-lidded with desire. He waited.
"Tom...?" She felt his shaft positioned snugly against her
opening so that she involuntarily spread her legs wider.
"Shhh..." he said as he held his shaft and pressed it gently into
her opening. He watched her eyes widen with surprise.
"Oh, my God..." he croaked as he eased himself slowly into her
very tight sheath. His hands were at the sides of her head. He
watched the surprise give way to fascination then to desire as her
lips parted. He was only halfway into her, her sheath so tight,
so narrow... He felt his own resolve slipping as he thrust
fully into her, just hearing her soft cry. Then he started pushing
and pulling slowly, allowing her time to adjust which she did
with so much speed it surprised him. It made him bold as he held
her head, his mouth locked to hers, gasping and moaning as she
quickly matched his rhythm. He wanted to die with the pleasure
of it as he felt her sheath muscles tightening around him,
clutching, not letting him go. His thrusts became more forceful
while she brought her legs up and around him. They rocked, Tom
pounding into her, his own thoughts of wanting to be gentle flying
away as she encouraged him to thrust harder and harder into her.
Seven thought she would expire from sheer pleasure as Tom's
shaft moved in her, filling her to the hilt, drawing out almost
completely before thrusting so hard, she grunted with every
thrust he made. She wanted him to get deep into her, his movements
wild yet still maintaining a rocking rhythm. She could feel herself
reaching that edge again, the power and swirling mass of sensual
eddies building inside her, swelling with every thrust Tom took,
hearing his own grunts as he pumped into her. She closed her eyes,
her throat became constricted, then a low animal like growl
escaped her as a she thundered over the edge, taking screaming Tom
a second later with her. For a few moments their movements were so
intense as the orgasms rocked them that Seven was unaware that her
nails dug deep furrows in Tom's back as they hung suspended for
eons in the aftermath of their explosive climax. Their breathing
returned to normal only after long minutes. Tom had collapsed over
her, his face in her neck.
"Annika..." he whispered softly, feeling embarrassingly how a
tear rolled down his cheek.
"Shhh...Tom. I love you..." she comforted him. He was still joined
to her, and a few moments later took her to the heights again.
When it was over he settled himself beside her and resting on his
elbow, he looked into her eyes. She could not mistake that look.
He looked at her the way he used to look at...her... She could
not bring herself to think of her name. Seven felt happy, so happy
that she smiled again at Tom. He kissed the tip of her nose,
then brushed her lips with his. She kissed him back, her hand
cupping his head and holding him close.
He stayed like that for a few minutes, staring up at the ceiling
until he realised she was not responding to the way his fingers
were squeezing her nipple, hoping to incite her again. When he
looked at her, her eyes were closed. She was sleeping! He almost
gasped in surprise. She had not slept or regenerated properly
for weeks and now... now she was at peace, she had him.
He watched her sleep, reveled in hearing her even breathing, her
head turned towards him. He didn't mind. He loved her, that's
what. Perhaps in time he will love her with the great passion and
care and intensity that she deserved, but right now, his heart
sang that he at last could feel again. And Annika was instrumental
in his reparation this time. She deserved all he could give her of
himself now. He bent down to kiss her again, got up and walked
to her wardrobe to get another Starfleet issue blanket and tucked
her gently in. She moaned slightly, then smiled in her sleep.
Tom smiled, touched her cheek before he went into the shower.
Some time later he was dressed and ready to leave. He had duty on
the bridge at 2300.
****
When Seven woke in the early hours of the morning, she was
disoriented for a few moments, then memories came surging back.
She lay back and felt such an immense sense of peace, just
enjoying thinking about Tom. She looked at the bedside table, saw
the PADD.
Reaching for it, she read:
"My love, I had to leave to go on duty. I will see you tonight
at 2200. Think of me. Tom."
For a full five minutes Annika Hansen clutched the PADD to her
bosom and entertained hopes and dreams at last of a future with
Tom.
END
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