PARTY OF FOUR
Part Three
"Seven, are you okay?" whispered Harry in the dark.
He heard the rustle of her heavy outer clothes and felt her fidget with their arrangement. "I’m adequate, Harry. I am experiencing some more unusual feelings of cold but I do not believe you can help me this time."
He shifted closer to her. "What is it, Seven – maybe there is something I can do."
He heard an exasperated sigh. "It’s my implants. They have not dissipated the cold as easily as my skin has and it feels like I am being skewered by frozen knives. It is most uncomfortable."
Harry lay stunned for a minute. He had never even considered how a lengthy exposure to the cold would affect her implants. He recalled a winter visit with his cousins in Quebec years before; boy, that was the last time he’d ever kiss a metal pail on a dare!
Slowly he raised himself up on his elbow and used his other arm to pull her tighter against him. "You must be in a lot of pain, I’m so sorry."
He brought his free hand up to press gently against the implant over her left eye and found it frigid. His heart smote him. "This must be giving you a horrible sinus headache" he murmured quietly. "Why didn’t you say something before this, Seven?"
"Why, Harry? What could you do?" Her eyes looked up into his.
"I don’t know, I just hate to think of you in pain." He rolled his hand off the implant until it was cupped around it and, without thinking, he brought his mouth down. He huffed gently in an attempt to heat the metal with his own warm breath. He felt her jump under him and then his mouth was on the implant itself, kissing it over to her temple and the outer corner of her eye. She turned her face from him and his mouth kissed its way across her right cheek to the smaller starburst implant. Again, he warmed it with his breath until he couldn’t stop his lips from finding her ear and nibbling around it.
"Harry," moaned Seven. "I….I…."
"What is it, Little One?" he whispered in her ear as she squirmed under him. His right leg travelled across her thighs and pulled her legs in closer under him. "Are you starting to get any warmer?"
"Yes …. but …. but Harry, this is not standard survival procedure…."
She felt his grin against her neck. "Sure it is, Little One, sure it is. Haven’t you ever heard of survival of the species?" He brought his hand under her layers of clothing and lightly ran his fingers over her hips and belly towards her breasts. But, in their journey they felt something cold and hard and he brought his face up to look into her beautiful blue eyes.
"Seven," he asked quietly, "How many implants do you still have in your body?"
"Eleven," she answered softly, "including the two on my face and the one on my left hand. Why?"
He just smiled into those eyes and brought his mouth down to hers. Their first kiss was gentle, he had no intention of either scaring her away or frightening her into one of her instinctive defensive strikes. But, as he felt her tension easing away, he pushed at her lips with his tongue. She seemed confused but more pressure from his lips persuaded her mouth to open, allowing his tongue to enter and begin his exploration. She tasted wonderful and the little sounds she made as he flicked her palette caused a painfully sweet tightening in his groin.
His fingers found that hard, cold implant on her belly and he lightly pressed his palm on it to transfer his heat. He left her gulping for air as his mouth left hers to kiss her neck and throat. His fingers began to stroke wider around the implant and he felt her body beginning to strain into his touch. He slowly brought his head up to hers and his voice was husky in her ear.
"Do you trust me, Seven? Do you know that I would never hurt you?"
"Yes," she whispered breathlessly.
"Then will you allow yourself to relax and let me take care of those cold implants for you?"
There was a heavy pause and then she whispered again, "I’ll try, Harry."
"I’ll help you, Little One." He kissed her again and then slowly pulled away to look into her darkened eyes once again. "Seven, will you let me love you like you deserve to be loved?"
This time her answer was more eloquent that all her others put together. Her right hand wrapped around his neck to bring him down to her mouth, while her cold, metallic left hand slid under his layers to dig its fingernails into his back.
"Harry, why are you calling me ‘Little One’? That is not my designation."
He smiled and looked down at the cherished woman cradled in his arms. "You don’t get it, Seven?"
"No, Harry, I really don’t."
He kissed her lightly. "Well, it’s like this, Little One – when you’re Seven, you’re so formidable and intimidating and God help anyone or anything get in your Borg way. But in my arms you’re not like that. You’re soft and helpless and so very much the exquisite woman I always knew you were underneath that absurd catsuit. So, I just divided your Borg designation by itself to find the perfect name for my beautiful lover."
"That was certainly innovative, Harry, but I don’t think I want to be considered helpless. It doesn’t seem to be an appropriate attitude for a free and self-aware human being as Captain Janeway has explained it to me."
"Sure it is, Little One. I want you to be helpless in my arms and in my bed! I need you to be that way – heaven knows I’m completely helpless around you. When you’re close to me I can’t help but want to make love to you, gently, hard, it doesn’t matter. I need to see your face when you come – knowing that it was me that did that for you. And, when you touch me, I just never want you to stop. So, you see? Totally yours. Helpless."
She closed her eyes. "I see. Helpless." She lay against his chest for a few minutes, not opening her eyes. "I like it after all, Harry. And, I also accept your special name for me – I will be your Little One. And, Harry….."
"Yes, Little One?" he asked with a kiss on her nose.
"Will you please show me again how to do that little thing you liked so much?" She picked up his hand and guided it back to her, "And touch me here again, please?"
"Oh, yeahh….."
"Well, I guess this old thing served its purpose." Smiling, Janeway tossed her eviscerated communicator towards the small pile of trash that would return to Voyager with them. "It’s just too bad we don’t have the means to receive a response – I guess I should just be thankful that the tricorder was able to confirm that the connection to Seven was actually made.
"Yeah, that was comforting. And it does confirm that she’s alive and, I don’t care if it is unprofessional, I’m going to make the assumption that Harry is safe and sound, too."
"I think that’s a safe one. Chakotay, have you ever noticed what a good team they make? A few years ago they would have needed a referee but ever since they worked together on Astrometrics…." Her voice faded away.
Chakotay grinned. "Kathryn, who do you think put them together on that project? And yes, there were days when I did feel like a referee but, once again, I was years ahead of you."
She turned to stare at him. "What do you mean by that?"
The commander leaned his head back against the cave’s hard wall. "Kathryn, sometimes you can be very dense. I’ve never complained before, and I’m not about to start, but honest-to-gawd, sometimes you’re enough to drive a man to drink." He closed his eyes.
"You’re still years ahead of me, Chakotay. What are you driving at?"
His eyes opened to gaze at the cave’s ceiling and sighed. "Okay, you win; I give up. Kathryn, that crack a while ago about me panting and drooling when we programme that Academy party….."
"Yes?" she encouraged him to continue.
"Well brace yourself, because I wasn’t kidding. It might have been a flirty kind of joke to you, but it isn’t to me. I’ve been panting and drooling over you for six years."
"You have not!"
"Believe me, Kathryn, I know when I’m drooling. Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed how we never dance together at Neelix’s parties."
"I thought you just didn’t like to dance."
"I was born to dance, Kathryn, especially with you. But I wasn’t about to embarrass either my captain or myself in front of the crew. Besides, you could have asked me."
He turned to look at her only to be met by wide-eyed shock.
"Oh cripes," he muttered and turned his gaze back to the ceiling.
"Chakotay….."
He shut his eyes again. "Don’t bother, Captain. It’s just one of those things that comes out on an away mission and tradition dictates that it goes no further. You can just put it out of your mind now."
"If that’s the way you want it……"
"It is," he replied shortly. Slowly he brought himself to his feet and held out a hand to her. "C’mon, it’s time for bed. Let me help you up and we can go to sleep dreaming about Neelix’s version of pancakes. I have a feeling we’re going to be eating them for breakfast in the morning."
She wobbled to her good foot with his help and muttered something about nightmares. Then, as he put his arm around her waist to steady her hopping, she slowly turned in towards him and laid her head on his shoulder.
"Dance with me, Chakotay," she whispered. She felt his body stiffen and when she didn’t receive a reply she looked up at him. "Please dance with me, Chakotay."
His other arm slowly rose to hold her to him and she brought hers up around his neck. "I would have asked if only I thought you would say yes. I could never bear the thought of you saying no to me. You could have given a girl a bit of a hint, you know."
He laughed ruefully. "Hint, Kathryn? Tom’s been running book on us for over five years and you need skywriting across the stars. How in the world did you earn those pips?"
"It doesn’t really matter. If you kiss me I’ll let you take them off…."
His hand came up to cup her face. His thumb reached out to caress her beautiful lips as she brought her finger up to trace his tattoo. As his mouth lowered to hers he felt her fingers slide into his hair, raising the little ones on the back of his neck. He felt her mouth opening to his kiss and finally scooped her into his arms, carrying her to his bed. At least their hearts were dancing.
"Commander Tuvok! There is a communication coming in from the moon!" called the ensign at Ops.
"On screen, Ensign."
"I’m sorry, Commander, but this is connected through the communication relay system. I’m routing it to your console, sir."
"Understood, Ensign." Tuvok swung the console towards him.
The screen began to display quickly flashing co-ordinates and data required for the necessary complex counterpoint calculations. If it had been possible Tuvok might have enjoyed a twinge of appreciation for this confirmation of Lieutenant Torres’ work, but his full attention was actually captured with the next flash of data. He immediately tapped his communicator.
"Tuvok to Torres. I am relaying information to your station from one of our away teams. It confirms your theory and supplies exact counterpoint figures to aid with your calculations for establishing accurate life signs. In addition, we now have the data necessary to manipulate the atmospheric shielding to enable our use of the transporter. Captain Proton’s daring rescue attempt has now been cancelled and the Delta Flyer is safe for another day."
A charged silence from Engineering was felt over the entire bridge. Tom turned slowly in his chair to gape at the expressionless Vulcan while the other duty officers were likewise gawking in shock. Finally a gasped acknowledgment was heard from B’Elanna and her connection was quickly broken. Tom had recognised the sound of her choking back her laughter. He hesitantly spoke up.
"Tuvok?"
"Mr Paris."
"Are you all right?"
"I am in excellent health, Mr Paris. Why do you ask?"
"But Tuvok, you cracked a joke. I heard it. And, on duty, too."
"Indeed. Then, when the captain returns I will have to report to sickbay immediately. To have sunk to your level must surely mean that I require serious medical attention. In the meantime, however, I will report to the transporter room to greet our wayward comrades."
The bridge rocked with the unrestrained laughter of all personnel, except for the man in the big chair. He stoically ignored the gales of hilarity as he closed the console and rose to his feet. No royal personage could have walked to that lift with more dignity.
