Title: When Harry Met Seven
Author:  Khylaren	
Contact: Khylaren@yahoo.com
Series: VOY 
Version: Rough
Rating: [PG13]
Codes: K/7

Summary:  They met.  She conked him on the head and escaped the ship.  He tried to be friendly, and she dismissed his chatter as irrelevant.  He tried to flirt a little, and she asked him if he wanted to copulate.  Who would have thought these two would EVER end up together??

Disclaimer:  Paramount owns Star Trek Voyager and the characters. The story is mine. 

Its Mush. Pure Mush.  You’ve been warned.

< > < > < > 

Harry’s fingers fumbled nervously on his collar, causing the pip he had been trying to fasten to his uniform to slip between them, falling with a tiny metallic ‘ping’ on the countertop before bouncing onto the carpeted floor of his quarters.  His eyes followed its course across the floor where it rolled to a stop next to a black dress shoe.  The owner of the shoe bent down to retrieve the pip with a wry and familiar smirk.

“A little nervous, Harry?”  Tom asked, reaching up to fasten the wayward pip on his friend’s collar.  He brushed his hands over the shoulders of Harry’s dress uniform, tugging slightly so the material lay correctly across them.  “You should be.”  

His grin was infectious, and Harry found himself smiling despite the butterflies that whirled and skittered in his stomach.  

“Don’t laugh.  I’m sure B’Elanna has similar plans for you.”

Tom’s smile vanished, his blue eyes worried. “Do you think so?” 

Harry chuckled, moving away to take a seat next to his computer terminal. “It would serve you right if she did.”

Tom frowned. “That’s not funny, Harry.” 

Still smiling, Harry bent to retrieve his dress shoes.  “You know what they say about people who live in glass houses, Tom?” He stood up, glancing quickly at his feet to check the shine on the tips of his shoes. Nodding in satisfaction he cast a look at his friend.  Tom’s face was suspisciously solemn. 

“No, Harry.  Do enlighten me.”

Checking his pockets quickly, he discovered the object he was looking for and tossed it at Tom, who caught it neatly.  He watched as Tom handled the small, velvet box like it was a poisonous snake, placing it carefully in the inside pocket of his dress uniform.

“Well?”

Harry grinned. “I can’t wait until it’s your turn.”

Tom snorted, smiling and shaking his head. “That’ll be the day, my friend.” But both men knew he was only joking.  “Shall we?” He gestured to the door. “We don’t want to keep them waiting.”

Harry gave himself one more look in the mirror, determined that today, he would look his absolute best. *For her*.  His gaze traveled from his hair, which was brushed neatly, the normally unruly spikes of black hair tamed down for the occasion.  His jaw was smooth, no sign of stubble to mar its golden complexion.  His uniform was neat and pressed, with creases in all the right places, and shoes shined to a mirror finish.  Satisfied, he turned, determinedly suppressing the nervous quiver in his midsection. He met Tom’s eyes with a lift of his chin and smiled broadly, finally evincing the joy that filled his heart.

“I’m ready.”

Tom looked at him, a slow smile spreading across the boyish features. He nodded and stepped aside, allowing Harry to walk in front of him.  Even knowing how happy his friend was, he couldn’t resist a final jibe as Harry passed him and exited his quarters.

“It’s your funeral, man.”

< > < > < >

“Seven, you’re being difficult on purpose.”  B’Elanna dropped the offending piece of fabric onto the bed and placed her hands on her hips, her patience finally beginning to wear thin.

The former Borg leveled her gaze at the other woman, her own posture revealing her stubborn nature. 

“I fail to see how wearing this particular clothing is any more appropriate for the situation than my own biometric suit, which is what I am most familiar with,” Seven said, her chin sticking out slightly.  “Harry will be pleased to see me regardless of the clothing I am attired in.”

“But it’s your wedding day! You’re supposed to be dressed special!” B’Elanna’s patience finally snapped.  

“Irrelevant,” Seven said, her eyes narrowing.

Kathryn Janeway, Starship Captain and Maid of Honor, hid her smirk carefully before stepping forward. 

“Seven, B’Elanna is correct.  It is customary to wear a special dress when one is getting married, and whether you think it is irrelevant or not, Harry will be most disappointed if you do not wear the gown.”

Seven blinked with a small frown. “Harry will be disappointed?” 

B’Elanna nodded at her friend vigourously, leaning over to bed to gather the frothy white material in her arms. “Most disappointed. Devastated, even.  You know what a traditionalist he is.”  She held the gown out towards Seven.

Seven eyed the lacy concoction dubiously. “Well, if it will make him happy…” her voice lilted upwards at the end, making the statement a question.

Janeway patted the young woman’s arm.  “It will make him happy, Seven.”

Seven sighed. “Very well. I will wear the gown.”

“And the veil!” B’Elanna added sweetly.

Seven shot the captain a pleading look, the implant above her eye raised in mute appeal.

Janeway nodded. “Yes, the veil is customary as well. Besides, you don’t want to deprive the doctor of his role as “father of the bride” do you?”

Knowing she was defeated, Seven merely nodded, retiring to her bedroom to don the absurdity of white lace and satin they insisted she wear instead of a her perfectly functional biometric suit.  As she fastened the last hook of the snug fitting bodice and flared the skirt so it pooled gracefully behind her, she had to admit she was looking forward to seeing Harry’s expression when she walked down the aisle to meet him.  

The bodice was form fitting and covered with delicate lace patterns that attracted the eye but didn’t distract from the overall view of the gown.  Her breasts were snugly confined, uplifted slighty for a hint of cleavage.  The waist tapered to a V, the brocade design on the skirt flowing outward in a shimmering cascade of satin. The sleeves were long and tapered to fit closely about her wrists, tiny seed pearls decorating the cuffs in an elegant and subtle pattern.  The veil she had initially refused to wear was the crowning glory.  Yards of frothy, white material covered her hair, which she wore loose and flowing instead of confined in its customary bun.  Harry had confessed to her once that her hair was one of her best features, and he derived great pleasure in running his fingers through it on the rare occasions she let it down for him.  She felt it was more than appropriate for her to wear it loose for him now.

The looks on B’Elanna and the Captain’s faces gratified her and she couldn’t help but smile at them in return.

“You were correct.  It would not have been appropriate for me to wear any other attire for this day.”  Seven admitted softly, feeling beautiful from her head to her toes.  “Thank you for your insistence.”

B’Elanna smiled, her anger at her friend forgotten, replaced with happiness for the day ahead.  “You’re welcome, Seven.”  The half-klingon woman turned away, reaching for a small object that lay forlornly on the table.  Turning back, she handed the object to Seven.  “Here.”

The former Borg’s eyebrow shot upwards in curiosity. “What is this?”

“It’s a garter.”

“A garter?”

“You wear it on your leg until after the wedding.  The groom will remove it and toss it at all the eligible bachelors at the wedding. Whoever catches it is next to be married,” Janeway explained, taking the elastic object from the confused young woman.  “Give me your right leg and I’ll show you.”

Seven shook her head, pulling the edge of her gown upwards so the other woman could slide the garter up her leg, positioning it carefully above the knee.  “What a strange ritual.”

B’Elanna snorted, shaking her head with a smile. “No stranger than tossing your bouquet of flowers at all the unmarried women.”

Seven smoothed her gown once more.  “Are you certain all of this is required for marriage?”

Janeway chuckled.  “Not required, but all part of the traditional Anglo-Saxon wedding that Harry wanted.” She consulted the PADD that lay on the table. “Hmm..something old, we’ve got that.” 

Seven fingered the small object Janeway was referring to. It had once been part of the Aries IV, a ship from a period in earth’s early space exploration period that Voyager had come across in spatial anomaly 521.  Chakotay had done some clever metal-working with it, and now it could be pinned to her gown as a type of brooch. Seven found its presence oddly pleasing as she placed it carefully on the table in front of her.

“Something new?” B’Elanna asked.

Janeway nodded and handed Seven a small, silver-wrapped box topped with a white ribbon.  “This is from Commander Chakotay and myself.”

With a small smile playing about her lips, Seven carefully pulled the ribbon off the exquisitely-wrapped gift, sliding her fingers along the edges of the paper to where it had been taped together to avoid ripping the beautiful wrapping.

Janeway grinned, watching the almost child-like expression of joy cross Seven’s features as she opened the box and lifted the string of fresh-water pearls from inside.

“They are beautiful.  Thank you.” In a rare display of open affection, Seven reached out and embraced the older woman, bringing tears to Janeway’s eyes at the unexpected gesture.

Seven released her and B’Elanna dutifully looked away and pretended to be occupied with cleaning up the wrapping paper as Janeway composed her features, wiping her eyes with a small tissue.

“Something borrowed?”  Seven asked, waiting until the Captain regained her composure.

It was B’Elanna’s turn to smile. “Here, hold out your hand.”

Seven complied, and felt B’Elanna drop something small and metallic into her hand.  Puzzled, she brought it close to her face to examine it.

“It’s the keys to Tom’s Camaro.” B’Elanna couldn’t resist rolling her eyes slightly. “He wanted you and Harry to borrow it for your honeymoon on the holodeck.”

Seven nodded slightly, depositing the keys next to the brooch on the table.  She knew Harry would be very happy about getting to “drive” Tom’s car.  He had been wanting to drive it ever since Tom finished working on it and had taken Harry out for what Tom had termed a “spin”. 

“And finally, something blue.  What do we have for that?” Janeway asked.

B’Elanna shrugged, looking at Seven. “I thought Seven said she had that covered.”  Both women fixed their gaze on the bride-to-be.

Seven’s cheeks warmed as she pulled out her “blue” item from her dresser drawer where it had been carefully concealed the past three weeks.  It was a negligee made of midnight blue satin with matching robe and impossibly tiny underwear.  Seven had done extensive research with regards to intimate wear on the wedding night and had concluded that her “blue” would be most appropriately used in this manner. She could just imagine Harry’s face when he finally saw her in it.

A polite chime requesting entry interrupted the three women from their examination of the flimsy blue garment.

“Who is it?”

“It’s the doctor,” the EMH’s voice came cheerily through the door. “Its time!”

< > < > < >

The music was Pacabel’s Canon in D, the setting was a holographic recreation of Golden Gate Park in San Francisco, and the groom was understandably nervous.  

It was the most important day of his life.

As Harry waited anxiously, he tried to occupy himself by watching the guests arriving and taking their seats in the rows of chairs set out on the grass.  Tuvok and Neelix were doing wonderfully as ushers, guiding people to their seats, although Neelix looked much more comfortable in the task than Tuvok.  The stoic Vulcan had agreed to assist Neelix only at Seven’s request.  Harry hid a smile, knowing himself how difficult it was to deny Seven anything. 

As the last of the guests took their seats, Commander Chakotay walked up the aisle that was formed between the rows of chairs to take his place next to Harry and Tom.  As a Captain in his own right, Chakotay would be performing the ceremony in lieu of Captain Janeway, who was Seven’s Maid of Honor.  Chakotay offered Harry a smile, knowing how nervous the younger man was.  

“Its almost time, Harry,” Tom said, his hushed voice for Harry’s ears alone. “Its not too late…” his voice trailed off as the music changed.  His smirk fled as he spotted B’Elanna walking down the aisle, carrying a small bouquet of flowers.  Tom had never seen her look so beautiful, gowned regally in silk of a dusky rose hue, her hair upswept and pinned back, crowned with delicate looking blossoms of white and gold.  His eyes were glued to her, unable to look away as she took her place across from them.  Only at Chakotay’s sudden intake of breath was he able to tear his gaze away long enough to see the Captain coming up the aisle.  

If B’Elanna had been a vision of beauty, the Captain was simply breathtaking.  Tom and Harry could well understand Chakotay’s surprised gasp and stunned expression as they watched Janeway walk up the aisle.  Her dress mirrored the style of B’Elanna’s, silk draped gracefully, hugging her small waist and dipping dangerously in the front and back.  Its color was a heather blue, and seemed to have been created simply for her, bringing out the creamy whiteness of her skin and making her eyes seem impossibly blue. A small smile played about her lips as she took her place next to B’Elanna, well aware of her effect on her Senior officers.  As they continued to gape at her, she cleared her throat and cast a pointed look down the aisle.  

Harry smiled and turned to watch as Seven, accompanied by an impossibly proud Doctor, was escorted up the aisle.  He felt like he couldn’t breathe as he watched her, as if any movement by him would break the fragile spell that was growing stronger with each step she took closer to him.  The words to describe her couldn’t form in his mind, but his heart felt as if it would burst from his chest, so full of wonder and joy that this dream was real, that this woman who was walking towards him with a gentle smile behind her veil was to be his.  Harry’s eyes followed her every step, and he felt as if he were truly seeing her for the very first time, so profound was her affect on him that he felt suddenly unworthy of her, uncertain that he deserved to be loved by a creature such as she.  

When she turned to face him, the Doctor lifted her veil and placed a paternal kiss on her cheek, before replacing it.  He then took Seven’s hands and placed them in Harry’s. In that fleeting moment when the Doctor had lifted her veil, Harry had seen Seven’s face and knew, without a doubt, that she was suffering from the same uncertainties as he.  He smiled and squeezed her hands gently, feeling her squeeze them back in return.

Together they turned to face Chakotay, confident once more in each other’s love.

“We are gathered today to witness the union of two of our friends and to celebrate their love.  Seven of Nine and Harry Kim have declared their love for each other to the exclusion of all others and have asked to be joined in wedlock.  We as friends and loved ones have been asked to witness their joining and take part in their happiness this day.” Chakotay smiled, folding his hands in front of him, pleased that he had spoken his part flawlessly.  

As Chakotay spoke, Harry found himself lost in the details of Seven; the way her hands held his, the blueness of her eyes, the stillness of her beauty.  He scarcely heard the words that were spoken until Tom nudged him, bringing him to awareness once more.  Tom smirked, handing him the ring.

Harry slid the ring onto Seven’s left hand, speaking the words that symbolically tied them together, forever.

“With this ring, I thee wed.”

It was an ancient, somewhat archaic custom that had mostly been abandoned in newer times.  However, Harry’s parents had been married with rings, and he was determined to carry on the custom. After explaining to Seven the meaning behind the wedding ring, she agreed that it was an appropriate symbol for their love.

Seven’s hands trembled slightly as she placed the golden band on his left hand.  Her voice was low but steady.

“With this ring, I thee wed.”

Chakotay smiled. “By these witnesses present, I now declare you husband and wife.”  He paused dramatically, his smile growing even larger. “You may kiss the bride, Harry.”

Harry lifted the veil that separated them and kissed her, intending the kiss to be a brief, purely traditional affair.  The sudden passion with which she met his lips caused all thoughts of tradition to fly out the nearest airlock.  

Only Tom’s whoop and the Captain’s wry, “Red Alert!” pulled them apart, Seven’s face nicely flushed with embarrassment and happiness.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you for the first time, Mr. And Mrs. Harry Kim!”

< > < > < >

“Annika Kim.  That has a nice ring to it.”  The EMH said thoughtfully, sipping his holographic champagne.  It was his 3rd glass and he was beginning to feel a bit tipsy.

“Seven doesn’t have to change her name,” Harry put in quickly, with a look at his new bride who was currently being occupied by Tom and Chakotay.

The doctor shook his head. “Oh, no. I’m not saying she should. I merely mentioned it as an option.”  He put his glass down and picked up a fork. “Lovely reception, by the way,” he said in an abrupt change of subject. “I appreciate the holographic food.  The messhall never looked so lovely.”

“Don’t mention it. It was Neelix’s idea.” Harry pushed himself away from the table, intending to rescue Seven from Tom and Chakotay. From the look on her face they were giving her some ‘advice’ that he didn’t necessarily think was all too helpful.  “Excuse me a moment,” he muttered and headed in that direction.

“Ah, here comes the groom now,” Tom was saying as Harry made his way over to where they were standing. B’Elanna had returned with Tuvok and was smiling rather conspiratorially.

“Why am I suddenly suspicious?” Harry asked, smiling, placing his arm around Seven’s tiny waist, and placing a kiss on her cheek. “What have you been talking about?”

Seven leaned into his embrace warmly. “Tom was warning me about having to keep you from becoming complacent now that you have married me.”

“Oh really?”

Seven smiled and nodded. “He warned that you would be likely to expect me to cook and clean for you while you sat and did nothing and grew a large waistline.  I suspect he was merely pulling my leg.”

Tom grinned. “Nothing of the sort.”

B’Elanna shook her head. “I’d say if anyone was in danger of that, its you, flyboy.”

“Ouch!” Tom pretended to be hurt, clutching his stomach dramatically. 

Seven raised an eyebrow at the sally, a smile playing about her lips.  Harry couldn’t resist kissing her once more.

“Its not time for that yet,” Neelix interrupted. “We haven’t had the toast. Or cake.”  He looked at Tuvok. “Mr. Vulcan, would you care to assist me?”

Though his expression didn’t change, the air of martyrdom was apparent as Tuvok followed Neelix to retrieve the cake.

Harry and Seven returned to their table, flanked by Tom, B’Elanna, Chakotay and the Captain.  The newlyweds shared a smile as they noted the looks being passed between Janeway and Chakotay.  There was a sparked interest between them that hadn’t been there in quite a while. Harry was sure he and Seven weren’t the only ones who could see it.

Harry had just poured Seven a glass of champagne when Tuvok and Neelix wheeled the giant wedding cake out into the messhall, stopping next to the table where Harry and Seven sat.  The cake had eight, white frosted tiers, each one consecutively smaller than the first, the last layer topped with two small figures representing the bride and groom. Some wit had carefully crafted each figure to actually look like Seven of Nine and Harry Kim.  

“Wait a moment! I want to get a picture.” The doctor reached for his holo-imager, moving to get a better angle of the cake, bride, and groom. 

Smiling, with both of them holding the knife, the sliced the first piece of cake and placed it on a plate.  The doctor got pictures of Seven feeding Harry from the piece of cake, and Harry feeding Seven.  As the applause died down from the surrounding tables, Tom stood up and tapped his champagne glass with his knife, gathering everyone’s attention.

“It is the best-man’s job to give a toast to the bride and groom and don’t think I haven’t been working on this since Harry first asked me.”  At the groans and laughter Tom grinned his familiar, boyish grin before continuing. “It’s been a tremendous task, trying to think of the best way to send these two off.  I think its worth mentioning that no one ever thought these two would get together after their initial, rocky start.”  More chuckles followed this statement, and the bride had the decency to look slightly embarrassed. It was no secret that when Harry met Seven, she had conked him over the head with a blunt object so she could escape back to the Borg.  “And then, even after that, Harry didn’t give up, trying a new approach.” Tom paused dramatically. “He was persistent in his attention until she finally gave up and went out on a date.” Laughter came from the tables around them. “The rest, as they say, is history.” Tom turned to face Harry, who was torn between laughter and scowling, and Seven, who looked impossibly lovely next to his friend. His smile faded and he became serious, lifting his glass in salute. “To Harry and Seven, may they have the joy of each other for all time.”

“To the bride and groom!”

< > < > < >

Seven lay contentedly on Harry’s shoulder, hearing the steady beating of his heart under her ear as she idly explored the pattern of chest hair next to her cheek.  She didn’t have words to describe the way she felt.  Happiness that defied description.

Harry chuckled, causing her raise herself up slightly so she could see his face, beautiful to her in its masculine lines, the contrast between hard and soft evident in his lips and cheek.  He smiled down at her in the semi-darkness, loving the look of her in the candlelight of their room.

“What is it?”

Harry shook his head. “Nothing. You were tickling me, that’s all.”  He continued to look down at her until she blushed slightly. “I love you,” he said softly, tracing the outline of her lips with his finger. “I think right now I can safely say I’m the happiest man alive.”

Seven blinked, feeling an upsurge of emotion that even now surprised her with its depth. “I did not know what love was until I met you,” she said softly. “I did not know what happiness truly was until I loved you.”  She reached up and touched his face gently, loving the feel of him next to her, loving him utterly and completely. “And I did not know how happy I could be until today.”

His lips touched hers with a gentleness that took her breath away, his hands holding her, loving her until her desire rose to meet his.  As his body moved over hers, joining them together once more, a curious thing happened:  

Two hearts, each overfull with love for the other, beating wildly in the heat of passion, occupying separate places in two separate bodies, began, unexplainably, to beat as one.

The End