It started simple, at least in Sue's mind. When she thought about it, traced the line of progression, that's where it began, with what she saw, what she heard. Engineering, hot as always, sweating from working on over-used power relays, she'd been sitting at her console, just staring at those damned calculations that simply refused to come out right. Her hand had hovered over her commbadge to call B'Elanna, but hesitated when Tom Paris' firm footstep had echoed through the humming room.

Sue settled more deeply into her couch, setting the PADD down on the coffee table, thinking it over, tracing the path.

She should be getting ready for the game. She was meeting Tom and Ayala for craps tonight--yet another way to waste her replicator rations.

Then leaned over, picking up that PADD again, flipping it on with her thumb, watching the contents.

It began in engineering, three weeks ago. Sue was almost certain of it, time, place, and opportunity, right before her eyes. She watched Tom and Seven have an argument.

That had to be the beginning.

* * * * *

Sue put down the impossible PADD and watched Tom cross engineering.

It was Gamma shift, and by all rights he should be in bed--she knew he'd had Alpha shift on the Bridge that day, and he'd pulled doubles with the Doctor the afternoon before that. But here he was at an unholy 0200 hours, moving to stand across a workstation from his current lover.

And they were arguing.

It wasn't like anything Sue expected--if she'd ever thought to expect Tom and Seven to argue. Truth be told, she hadn't expected them to last, had a decent stash of replicator rations on the near certainty that it wouldn't, even had some kind of half-formed wish that it would end, if for no other reason than to bring back the bounce in Harry's step when he was around them, or end the ceaseless projects that B'Elanna had tossed her staff into. Warp core efficiency was at an all-time high, they'd replaced every power coupling that even showed a sign of being recalcitrant, and B'Elanna had authorized an overhaul of all computer systems, thoroughly scaring the computer maintenance division.

Yet, here they were, apparently still together, still lost in first love--or maybe not, if Tom's expression was anything to go by, engaged in the most civil argument Sue had ever witnessed--and she'd been unwitting, unwilling, and sometimes amused witness to a hell of a lot of Tom Paris-style fights.

They'd forgotten anyone else was there--if they'd ever noted anyone's existence before, which was highly debatable. Sue remained quiet in her seat at the engineering main console, just out of their range of vision. With a marvelous view of the unlikely couple.

She knew she was, for all intents and purposes, spying.

And it just didn't seem like a bad idea. The dynamics of Paris/Seven had been a mystery for too long for her not to wonder, to speculate--now to finally, finally witness, first-hand, in all its permutations.

Especially since the PADD. She stifled a grin, wondering, on the off-chance, if Tom had finally found a copy.

Seven didn't lift her eyes from her work, smoothly entering the calculations that she'd gotten B'Elanna's grudging approval for to transfer more power into Astrometrics. Why she was doing it this late at night was easy--B'Elanna didn't have Gamma shift this week and Seven rarely chose to occupy engineering when B'Elanna was present, a remarkably astute decision on Seven's part that Sue honestly hadn't though she was capable of. However, it didn't explain why Tom was here, looking exhausted, rumpled, and frustrated, talking in a low voice to a woman who seemed to have absolutely no attention to bestow on him.

Sue suspected Seven's attitude was deliberate. No one could be that naive. At least, no one screwing Tom Paris for a month could be that naive. It simply wasn't possible.

"You understand my decision, Tom." And Seven's lovely voice, which she never bothered to modulate or soften, loud as always, and Sue sighed in relief. A rapid run of fingers across the keys. Tom's blue eyes narrowing. {Ah, a continuing argument.} Perhaps something that had happened earlier, thrashed out some in private, now the sequel to play out right before Sue's fascinated eyes.

"Switch it to 'Lieutenant', Seven," Tom shot, equally soft. "This just jumped into an official situation."

Seven lifted her head. Sue wished she had a clear view of Seven's face from her vantage point.

"That is unfair." Sue thought she almost sounded--hurt.

"You changed the rules. I didn't."

Seven glanced back down. Sue strained to hear. The opportunity was too much, after all. Resistance, as yonder Borg would doubtless admit, was futile.

"I was attempting to assist you, Tom, in your endeavors to improve--"

"Perfecting me?" The bitterness was as unmistakable as it was damning. Sue caught her breath. {He knows about the PADDs?}

Seven looked back up, her back stiffening, searching his face. Sue saw that slight relaxation in her ramrod spine, almost invisible if you weren't looking for it, damning if you were. {No, he doesn't. Ah, and Her Highness doesn't like the idea of him finding out, either. Interesting.}

"You have informed me that you have feelings for me, Tom."

Switch in tactics.

Tom took a step back, blue eyes narrowing.

"Seven, I love you. But--"

"And you led me to understand that a relationship requires compromise on both our parts, correct? You have expressed a desire to continue to develop our relationship."

Tom closed his eyes briefly, teeth clenched. Hell, Seven was probably quoting him--lovely to have a girlfriend with an eidetic memory.

"Yeah, that is exactly what I said." He ground out the words, as if expecting to be interrupted. "Though--"

And his expectations were nicely satisfied.

"Then why are you protesting against my actions?" Seven's fingers moved smoothly over the keys again, checking readings.

As if they were discussing a new type of power relay, efficiency reports, or what mystery meat Neelix put in their dinner that evening.

"The Moneans aren't a part of our relationship, Seven!" Tom leaned forward, forgetting any effort to soften his voice. "They're a people who will be homeless in less than five years if someone doesn't--"

"And that person must be you?" Sue thought--no that couldn't be right--was that scorn in the former Borg's voice?

"You had *no* right to go to the Captain!"

Sue flinched, understanding exactly what had happened. The Monean homeworld, Tom's reaction to seeing it, discovering the source of its imminent destruction.

Apparently, Seven had been somewhat less moved. Sue would happily give up her replicator rations for a month to have heard Seven and Tom's original discussion.

"I did not wish you to take actions you would later regret." Seven turned her full attention back to her workstation, though Sue would have bet her commission that the former Borg's concentration was not on those oh-so-damned-important calculations.

Tom leaned against the workstation, staring at her until she lifted her head. He generally had that effect on people.

"I told you I would not attempt to interfere." {He's starting to sound like her.} "I promised you, Seven, and that should mean something."

Seven's fingers stopped moving on the keys.

"I could not take the risk that your--conscience, as you call it--would overcome your sense and your promise. In this way, I have assured that you would do nothing to endanger Voyager or yourself." She went back to calculation. "I do not see any error in what I have done."

"You broke faith with me!" The intensity made Sue bite her tongue. "That was a private conversation and you--you told Janeway word for word what I said, what I told *you*--"

"She was angry with you?" Seven moved to another station, checking readings. Tom stalked behind her, and she turned around, facing him every inch the Borg, every inch the ruler of all she surveyed, Seven of Nine, Ice-Princess extraordinaire--though from the rumors Sue had heard, Seven's ice didn't extend to her newest recreational pursuit--

Tom let out a breath, obviously remembering and not liking it one bit.

"No--disappointed. She dragged out every fucking argument we had earlier about the situation, and I have a lovely reprimand in my file now." He ran a hand distractedly through his hair, eyes turning away, and Sue, to her own horror, ducked down in her seat, hoping he didn't see her, didn't remember he and Seven were in public airing this very private disagreement--then wondered if Tom would even notice.

"I do not enjoy your use of profanity, Tom." Her voice was sharp. Sue turned slightly to watch his expression, the frustration still there, the anger--but coated neatly and tidily by something completely different--almost resignation. Almost.

"Seven--"

Seven stopped working and turned her eyes on him.

"You are angry because you feel I have betrayed your confidence. I understand that. But my decision was based on my understanding of your personality--that while you would keep your promise to me, I could not--gamble--that your promise would hold against your conscience." Seven shook her head. "I will not risk your life on a 'guess', Tom."

"It's my life to risk, Seven. You don't own me."

Sue held her breath, watching the play of--emotion?--on Seven's face.

{She does think she owns him.} Sue darted a glance to Tom, trying to read his face. Finding nothing, with his profile turned to her, face expressionless.

"I will not allow you to risk your life for nothing more than a concept." {Then what do you call the pursuit of perfection, Seven?} Seven held his eyes. "If you wish to do so, you will not do so with me."

Even the warp engines seemed to stop. Sue didn't breathe.

"What are you saying?" Tom's voice was low, devoid of emotion.

"I will not place my life at the risk of your whims of conscience, Tom." Her fingers were still on the keys, her back to him. "I will not continue a relationship with you when there is the possibility that you will allow your feelings to overcome your judgment and overcome your duty to Voyager and to me. You will make this decision now, Tom."

"You're asking me to choose between the Moneans and you?"

Seven's chin lifted, even as her fingers danced rapidly across the keys. You had to give her credit, she could multi-task like a computer.

"I am telling you that you will choose between following a set of illogical emotional responses or following your duty to this ship and its crew, of which I am a member. I am telling you that I will not be subject to your momentary whims."

To boil it down to the common denominator--she was saying that he could be what she wanted or he could get the hell out.

Nothing. Tom stood there, utterly still, staring at her for a moment that stretched far too long. Sue Nicoletti had never seen emotional blackmail performed so well, so expertly--and so emotionlessly.

Worse, she knew Seven was not trying to blackmail Tom. She was stating the parameters of their relationship and telling Tom to live with it--or not.

His choice.

{What choice?} Sue felt her fingers dig into the workstation, a part of her too dazed to even formulate a thought--because whatever Tom chose now, whether it was a yes or a no, a give in or a leave, it was over before it began, any hope of helping the Moneans. If Janeway knew, she'd already taken steps to make sure Tom couldn't act on his "whims". She wondered if Tom even knew that he had already lost.

She wondered if Seven really understood what it meant to win like this.

"All right, Seven." He lowered his head for a moment, then lifted it. "You know how much you mean to me--if that's the decision you want, I've made it."

And win big time, complete with little flags that might as well have said "Seven" planted firmly on her new territory, Tom's conscience, claimed and regulated before her eyes.

Perfected.

Seven inclined her head.

"Are you coming tonight?" He sounded--tired. More than tired. Sue closed her eyes against the sight of him, that resignation that said more than words ever could have managed.

"Yes." Seven hit another set of calculations, then picked up her PADD. "I will accompany you now." To Sue's surprise, she took Tom's arm, limp at his side. "Have you eaten?"

Tom blinked and Seven pulled on his hand until he began to move, following her to the next station.

"Not yet." Nor did he sound very enthusiastic about it.

"You did not take a nutritional supplement at your designated meal time this afternoon. You require nutrition." She turned both blue eyes on him. "I will prepare you something from the replicator."

Tom nodded slowly.

"You are tired," she observed. "You require rest. When do you go on shift?" Seven paused to pick up anther PADD from the workstation she'd been using when she first entered Engineering.

Still not understanding, still not seeing it, still not realizing that--that what? Maybe she knew. Maybe she knew exactly what she was doing.

Maybe that PADD was more than merely a suggestion list.

"Not until gamma tomorrow, command of the Bridge." Sue forced herself to keep looking at Tom, watching his reactions, watching--

And here, for Sue's personal enjoyment, was a transformation so fundamental it stopped her thoughts, because this was Tom Paris, he'd shown as much enthusiasm about command as he did about leola root surprise as a dessert entree--

"Very well. I have asked Chakotay to alter my schedule to match yours whenever possible. Our shifts will now coincide." Sue gaped a little at the concept that Seven would alter anything to fit anyone else. "We can go now."

"You're only going to work one shift?" He sounded surprised. Sue couldn't blame him. She'd never seen Seven work less than double shifts--well, until recently, anyway.

Seven nodded sharply, then turned suddenly in the act of picking up a PADD. Sue watched the barest trace of--uncertainty?--cross her face, before she turned completely, setting her feet in the Borg position of superiority, meeting Tom's eyes.

Resistance was futile indeed.

"Tom-" she stopped, and Sue saw Tom look up. "I find our current arrangement inefficient."

Tom blinked. Face suddenly losing what little expression remained.

"What, specifically, do you find inefficient?" His voice matched his face.

"I spend seventy-two percent of my off-duty hours with you, seventy percent of which I spend in your quarters."

"I'm not even going to attempt to work out that math, but yeah, you spend a lot of time there." As if he was navigating a minefield with words alone--which very well might sum up his relationship with Seven perfectly.

Perfectly.

"It would be more--efficient--" and Sue knew she'd never seen Seven look so uncertain, cover it so quickly with brisk movement, turning back to the PADD. The full lips shut tight over whatever else she was going to say.

"What are you trying to say?"

Sue was rather curious herself.

Apparently, Seven decided. A look Sue recognized, had felt in on her own face, the last time she'd played craps and had to decide whether to put in the remains of her rep rations. A familiar look, tossing the dice, hoping it came up right--

"I would like to share your quarters."

--and the dice hit the floor nicely, spinning, not showing their numbers...

By the expression on his face, he hadn't expected that.

"You want to move in?"

Seven nodded slowly.

"Yes. It would be more--"

"Efficient. I got that part." He considered, and Seven waited, only betrayed by the hand locked behind her back, Sue could see it from her station, the utter tenseness and focus.

"Are you sure you're ready?"

And the dice landed perfect sevens. As they always did for Seven. Always.

Seven nodded sharply. It could be interpreted as relief.

"Yes." A thought occurred to her, and she met the bemused blue eyes. "You are not?"

Tom seemed to consider this, but Sue noted how his lips turned upward, despite repeated efforts to control it.

"Yeah, I'm ready for that." And he didn't fight the grin anymore, taking one step to her, touching her shoulder gently. Carefully. "If you're sure."

And the light was back in the blue eyes, even if muted, even if it wasn't the same, even if five minutes before, Seven had set down a claim on his soul no one could ever break. Tom lifted her hand, brushing his lips across the knuckles gently--

As easily as that. All over, game won.

Seven tilted her head and smiled.

* * * * *

Sue was surprised to see Ayala at her door when she answered it. Irrepressibly chipper, eyes alight with good humor, ready to--

"Craps tonight in Dalby's. You up for it?"

--to fleece her. Again.

She blinked, stepping back, seeing that look again on Seven's face, remembering that unmistakable voice.

Sevens.

Slowly, she turned back to the table, leaning down to pick up the PADD, studying it for a minute, wondering if there was, on its much more up-to-date mate, a revised checklist.

"Sue?"

"Sue, what's that?"

Sue flipped it off, dropping it on the couch, eyes fixed on the dimmed screen.

"Nothing important," she answered easily, turning around. "Is Tom coming tonight?"

Ayala's head tilted, and she saw--imagined perhaps, she could be wrong--a bemused expression cross his face.

"He said not tonight. Busy."

"You can't always roll sevens," Sue answered softly, smiling a little to herself. "Maybe another night, Ayala."

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