Our
Love is Here to Stay ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Seven woke up to Kathryn snoring in her ear. She winced and nudged the smaller woman in the ribs with her elbow. "Oh for Kahless sake… roll over, Kathryn." she complained. "Chocolate chip and macadamia" the red-head said suddenly, startled out of sleep. Kathryn looked around in confusion and blinked a few times. She saw Seven lying next to her and grinned sleepily. Kathryn rolled onto her side and sighed as her lover spooned up behind her. "Mmm," she hummed sweetly. “Good morning.” Seven said softly. She kissed Kathryn’s shoulder as she wrapped her human arm around Kathryn’s waist. Kathryn closed her eyes and smiled, pushing back against Seven and wiggling her bottom into the younger woman’s hips. "We've been asleep all this time?" she asked, peering at the chronometer. "Yes.” Seven teased. “You have been snoring away for hours and hours and hours.” "I don't snore.” “Empirical evidence proves otherwise.” “I’ve never heard me snore.” “Of course not.” Seven stated. “That would be impossible.” Kathryn rolled over to face the taller woman. "You mumble in your sleep," she accused. "You don't even have the courtesy to speak up so I can listen in on what you're saying." "Borg do not mumble," Seven said, laughing as Kathryn tickled her. "Yes, you do." She mumbled in imitation of Seven, moving up to kiss her neck. "And you mutter, and laugh, and you do it all under your breath." “Very well. I will instruct the computer to record the sounds in our bedroom tonight.” Seven stated, slightly annoyed that she would succumb to so human an idiosyncrasy as mumbling. Kathryn raised her eyebrows suggestively. “It will record the sounds while we SLEEP, Kathryn.” Seven replied, swatting Kathryn lightly on her rear. “Considering that I am the individual with the least experience with lovemaking, one would naturally assume that I would be the one who would want to make love as often as possible.” “Seven, how old are you?” “31, as you well know.” “And how old were you when you started thinking about making love?” “It was Stardate 52619.2 and I was 27.” Seven said shyly. “You had just rescued me from the Borg Queen.” Kathryn smiled, her free hand drifting under Seven’s sheer night gown and up to fondle the young woman’s right breast. “So… before we consummated our relationship in this very bedroom, you had only deprived yourself for what? Four years?” Seven nodded, gasping as she felt Kathryn’s breath on her neck. “Before you, I hadn’t made love to someone I really cared about in eight years.” Kathryn said, her breath ghosting over Seven’s clavicles as her hands pushed the night gown up above the younger woman’s breasts. “And never before to a woman.” “Kathryn…” Their kisses were hot and frantic. This was the most passionate they had been with each other in a while; and though both women knew that they had a full day ahead, neither of them wanted to stop. Kathryn undressed Seven gently and then removed her own night shirt. She threw the little cotton panties she wore over the side of the bed. Then she grabbed Seven’s legs. With an ankle in each hand, she opened the young woman like a love letter. Seven gasped at the motion, feeling so incredibly exposed to her lover. Seven felt smooth hands, those hands she always loved to watch, move from her stomach to the juncture of her thighs. “Oh Kathryn, do we have time?” “I don’t care.” Kathryn replied, her voice low and sultry. She used her fingers to reveal Seven’s softness and spread her open, unfolding her lover like an origami butterfly. Kathryn supped at her greedily, moving to nip at her thighs lightly at intervals. Seven tried to clutch at the smaller woman, but she couldn't muster the coordination to reach her. Kathryn grabbed her thighs and hoisted them over her shoulders, pulling Seven in further. Her mouth moved at double speed. "Oh Kathryn!" Seven shouted. She grabbed the sheets and balled them into her fists. "Please!" Her hips undulated involuntarily, not knowing if she wanted to escape the intensity of the moment, or get more of it. She felt her nipples tighten painfully as her body synched itself to one point of absolute bliss. Kathryn slid a finger inside Seven, then another. She curled them upwards, rubbing forward and backward, while she put her other hand on the younger woman’s mound, pressing down as she rubbed her hand in circles. Kathryn coordinated her movements so that her palm pulled back as her hand moved downward, creating a point of pressure where the two met and pressed Seven’s flesh. Seven felt as if she were drowning in Kathryn, as if she couldn't stop coming. Just as she thought she was past the last one, another series of waves washed through her system. It was almost too much. The chain reaction threw her emotions into chaos. She wanted to laugh, cry, scream, and just pass out all at the same time. She closed her eyes and saw colors creating kaleidoscope starbursts behind her eyelids. Slowly, so slowly, her body came down from its high. Her breath was returned to her body, and the dizzy feeling of not getting enough oxygen set in, making her cover her eyes with her hand so she could center herself. Seven felt Kathryn’s arms wrap around her, but she barely responded. Her body was oversensitive and over stimulated. "Seven," she heard from somewhere far off. Her orgasm had deafened her, making her feel as if she were underwater. She felt a kiss on her forehead, which caused a sharp little aftershock deep inside her. "Ungh," was all she could muster. Kathryn held Seven tightly in her arms, rocking the young Borg until she felt her stir again. Even after all this time she couldn't help but feel a little studly at the knowledge that she drove Seven of Nine to a furious orgasm. A foxy smirk crept onto her face. She kissed Seven gently. "Ready for some more?" Seven looked at her hazily, focusing her eyes. "Now…? Kathryn, your speech…” Wincing at the sensibility behind Seven’s words, Kathryn risked a look at the traditional chronometer she kept on the nightstand on her side of the bed. “Oh fuck.” Kathryn swore. She leapt out of the bed and nearly tripped over her own underwear as she rushed into the sonic shower. “Put it on high.” Seven called from the bedroom. “It will ‘shave off’ 8.3 minutes of your usual time.” “It sets my teeth on edge!” “Being late for duty will do worse than that.” Seven retorted. Kathryn sighed and ordered the computer to crank the sonic shower to the highest setting. She dried her hair, set it and threw on her uniform in ten minutes. Old habits die hard. “How do you like my hair?” “Kathryn, your hair looks beautiful, yet no more beautiful than it has ever looked in the 43,568 other days I have seen it.” She did a quick check in the mirror and brushed a stray strand into place. Kathryn nodded, once again very much a Starfleet officer and an Admiral. She walked out of the en suite to say goodbye to Seven and her breath caught in her throat. The sun shone through the window, silhouetting Seven of Nine. She turned and Kathryn's gaze swept over her form - strong and feminine. "Kathryn, what is it?" Seven asked, suddenly feeling modest. She shook her head. "Nothing," Kathryn smiled. “I ah, I have to get going.” “I will see you there.” She blushed as she finished dressing.
The room felt small, considering the number of people who were crammed into the space. They were Starfleet’s best; decorated officers who had served the Federation for years. Admiral Kathryn Janeway cleared her throat as she placed both hands on the podium. The crowd made their way back to their seats, still cradling their cups of coffee and tea. “Well… I’ll make this short.” Admiral Janeway said wryly. “Many things have been said today about what the true spirit of the Fleet really is and what our evolving role in the post-Dominion war Federation should be. Overwhelmingly, these views have come to the same conclusion that many of our citizens and our enlisted officers have agreed is the only possible choice.” Kathryn took a breath while the crowd murmured their agreement. Her eyes fell on her former shipmates. Tuvok met her gaze and nodded, sending waves of support in his simple gesture. “Despite the need to be ever vigilant of threats within the quadrant, from our enemies and erstwhile allies abroad, Starfleet was founded to explore new civilizations in order to enrich our own worlds. Our duty to the latter, certainly supersedes our need for the former.” “For the first time in millennia, we must once again face the problem of scarce resources; the very real possibility of poverty in some of the smaller, outlying colonies; the threat of stagnation and bureaucracy stifling the inchoate fields of basic science, art, language, history and music.” Kathryn said. “We are at the forefront of technology. Yet nobody has ever cited technology as a tool for thinking better. Creative thought has always, and will always be the lifeblood of innovation. And we cannot, in good conscience pursue our own interests when the fabric and the essence of what we are is threatened.” Scattered applause broke out as Kathryn’s gaze fell on Seven of Nine, radiant as ever in her blue and silver biosuit. Kathryn took a deep breath and put down the PADD that contained her speech. “I…” She paused. “I have a lot of inspiring words written down, words that would befit an Admiral closing this conference, words that would bolster our decision to go before the General Council and to state unequivocally that disarming and disbanding half the fleet in order to conserve resources and free up manpower to different sectors was the best service that Starfleet could provide the Federation… But these aren’t the words that I think we would all like to hear.” Kathryn stepped around the podium and off the stage, bringing her hands up to her waist. “Not so long ago, I was a Captain struggling to get my crew home. I was apprehensive about what ‘home’ was like, given the occasional transmission we would receive from Starfleet headquarters… My crew gave me everything they had under the worst and most unpredictable of circumstances.” “Some of them,” Kathryn said, her eyes lingering once more over Seven, “had either never seen Earth or were too young to remember what it was like. My Astrometrics officer asked me, years ago, what it was that drove me to make my way back despite the odds against my ever seeing Earth in my lifetime. I told her simply that it was the world outside Starfleet, the way of life that I had given my own life to defend and enrich, that I wanted to come home to.” Kathryn paused meaningfully. “If we have to make drastic changes in our careers and our daily lives to preserve our cultures and our citizens… if we have to break up not only crews, but families we have served with… if our mission changes from exploration to amelioration and healing… It’s a small price to pay to finally make where and how we live ‘home’ again.” Her voice softened as she looked over her audience. Captains and officers that symbolized everything that the Federation hoped to embody. Picard. Saavik. Riker. Gomez. Sato. Grafalk. Chekhov. Sisko. Jenner. O’ Brien. Lee. Paris. Torres. Kim. Ayala. Wildman. “There are worse enemies than the Jem’Hadar out there. We know their names of old. Famine, Hubris and Apathy.” She said quietly. “And if I have to take a desk job to beat them back into the darkness of ancient history, then so be it.” The crowd erupted with cheers and hearty applause. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The reception that followed the conference was abuzz with conversation. Seven of Nine didn't hear someone calling her name until she felt a light touch on her arm. “Seven.” A familiar lilting voice called. “How are you?” “Lieutenant Commander Troi.” Seven quickly amended. “Riker.” The demure betazoid smiled. “Deanna will be fine, Seven.” “I…” Seven paused. “I do not know what the proper words are. I would like to congratulate you on your marriage, but I also feel sorry that you have lost a crew member. I did not know Commander Data, but I can infer how I would feel if one of the crew of Voyager had died.” “Thank you, Seven.” Deanna replied. “For both sentiments. Data’s death hit us all very hard. Did you never meet him?” “No, I did not have the pleasure.” “But you’re familiar with positronic technology?” Deanna asked. “Of course.” Seven stated, suddenly inferring where the conversation was heading. “Would you like me to take a look at the other android and see if the Commander’s personality can be ‘resurrected’?” “If it’s not too inconvenient,” Deanna hedged. “And could we keep this off the record? Will and I don’t want to raise anyone’s hopes…” “I will look into it, Deanna. However, I cannot assure you that I will not raise false hopes. B’Elanna and I may have to consult with Lieutenant LaForge.” Seven replied. “Well, before it comes to that, could you send me a subspace message on the Titan?” Deanna requested. “Certainly.” Seven said. “Counselor, I also have a request for you.” “Oh?” “A request for information.” Seven said, suddenly bringing her hands behind her back and standing so straight she towered over the petite betazoid. “Why don’t we go out into the hallway, then?” Deanna offered gently. Seven glanced in Kathryn’s direction. She was still occupied with Commodore Sato and Chakotay. Seven caught her lover’s eye and tilted her head in the direction of the hallway. Kathryn smiled and nodded. Deanna was already waiting for her with a glass of ice water and a mug of green tea. Seven took a sip of the water gratefully. “What was it you wanted to know, Seven?” Deanna asked. “It is personal.” “I gathered.” Deanna said with a smile. “Seven, you can always ask me a question. If it’s too personal for me to answer then I’ll tell you and our friendship won’t suffer.” “I…” Seven paused. “It is… uncommon… for married spouses to hold command positions on a Starship.” “Yes, usually one spouse is in the chain of command and the other takes a civilian or advisory post,” Deanna affirmed, “but it does happen.” “How did you and Captain Riker acquire permission from Starfleet Command?” “Well, what with the casualties after the Dominion War and with this move to demobilize half the fleet, the top brass could hardly dictate what capacity we would serve.” Deanna began. “Will and I feel strongly about this issue. Alaska was one of the last territories in North America to benefit when the unified economy was established. Betazed is a planet dedicated to psychology, botany, zoology, music and art… Rather than wasting the pittance left in Starfleet’s coffers, we would rather have stayed with the Enterprise or I would have gone into private practice. Of course, what with too many Admirals and not enough experienced Captains… Well, you know more about the whole issue of why we were given the Titan…” Seven nodded. “Well, aside from the fact that it would be ludicrous not to use either of our talents for the mission… Captain Picard and Admiral Janeway made quite an argument for our case.” Seven’s eyes widened in shock. “Kathryn recommended it? In your duties as counselor, you could declare your husband unfit to command. There would be conflicts of interest and the organizational dynamics would be complicated.” “I’m sure the Admiral was very much aware of this, but after Captain Picard testified to our professional conduct and our character, she pointed out that a relationship had the potential to strengthen the crew rather than undermine its well-being.” Deanna smiled. “What has she been eating lately?” Seven blushed as the most accurate answer sprang to mind. “Nothing out of the ordinary.” “It’s a joke, Seven.” Deanna said gently. “Why did you want to know about our assignments? After that speech, I don’t think Kathryn will be giving up her Admiralty so soon.” “No, but after the Federation has stabilized she will become restless.” Seven replied. “I have many things to occupy my time here. However, if she were to take another deep space mission, I would most probably be unable to take up my former position.” “Her opinion on that seems to have changed.” “Perhaps in the case of other individuals and other Captains,” Seven said quietly, “she and I are not married, and on her own ship she would most probably prefer to minimize the potential for such conflicts of interest. It would not do for the Captain to date a subordinate.” Deanna placed her hand on Seven’s arm sympathetically as the young woman took a breath. “In preparation for this, I was surveying what civilian science positions would be available and interesting to me.” Seven continued. “What have you decided on?” “I think Astrophysics and Nanotechnology would be relevant fields of interest on a deep space mission. However, I have recently found myself fascinated with another field… child psychology.” “Through your work at the Veteran’s Creche?” Deanna said with surprise. “Yes, as well as with my relationship with Icheb and Naomi Wildman.” Seven replied. “You and I have worked together for the benefit of the more traumatized children. As you have observed my work, I would like to request a recommendation to the Harvard School of Psychology. It would be close to the MIT-Daystrom Institute and I would perhaps earn my PhD in two years… Would you be amenable to my request?” “Seven, I had no idea you were thinking of pursuing a doctorate in anything.” Deanna said lightly. “I’d be pleased to write a recommendation for you. But functioning on your earlier hypothesis, I don’t think there would be much need for a child psychologist on a deep space mission, unless it was a multi-generational ship.” Seven raised an eyebrow. “I see no reason why I cannot pursue doctorates in both sciences.” “Well, you do have the advantage of youth combined with Borg stamina.” Deanna laughed. “But give it some thought anyway, and talk about it with your partner. I get the distinct impression you’ve been planning this all on your own. Sometimes it’s best not to anticipate the future in such detail.” “To do any less would be inefficient.” Seven stated flatly. “Life has a way of rewarding a modicum of inefficiency, Seven.” Deanna replied. “Shall I send you the recommendation anyway, just in case you decide to pursue the psychology degree?” “Yes.” Seven said with a small smile. “Thank you very much, Deanna.” “My pleasure, Seven. Keep me informed.” |