Third story in the series Rasing Naomi and Rescuing Naomi. If you haven’t read those, you won’t get it completely.

Summary:When Naomi contemplates romantic love for the first time, it takes an alien, a visit from her mother, and major effort from Kathryn, Seven, Kieran, and B'Elanna to get our young Bridge Assistant through the heartache.

Rating: Pg-13. Not much in the way of sex (dang it), a little profanity, substantial angst. Kieran manhandles the Doc, Seven explains the birds and the bees, and Kathryn survives both.

WARNING: This story probably mangles the Klingon language in one or two places.

WARNING: This story has an alternate epilogue which is how I really wanted to end the story, but I didn’t want to get any flames from B'Elanna fans, so I’ve made it a separate piece.

Refusing Naomi

By Ensign Mika

 

Naomi Wildman had finished her duties for the day, and the Federation’s first ever Captain’s Bridge Assistant was ready for a nap. She yawned as she walked back to the quarters she shared with the U.S.S. Voyager’s Captain, Kathryn Janeway, and Voyager’s Astrometrics Officer, Seven of Nine, formerly of the Borg Collective. The two women had unofficially adopted Naomi when her biological mother was critically injured and placed in deep stasis. They had all lived together for the better part of two years. Janeway and Seven had married along the way, and the three women had settled nicely into a cohesive family unit.

Naomi had just made it to her room and stretched out on her bed when her comm badge chirped.

"Counselor Thompson to Miss Wildman."

"Wildman here," she automatically replied.

"Naomi, did you forget our date?" Kieran Thompson’s voice was threaded with amusement.

Naomi scowled. Dang, I did it again. I can’t remember anything today. "Yes, Kieran, I’m sorry. I’ll be right there," she sighed.

That sigh made the Counselor hesitate. "Hey sweetie—are you okay? We can cancel if you’re not feeling up to it," Kieran tried not to sound worried.

"I’m okay." Long pause. "Could we maybe reschedule?"

"Of course. You’re sure you’re okay?" Now the Counselor was very worried. Naomi never cancelled a chance to spend time with her.

"Yeah, I’m just tired. Send me your schedule and I’ll set up a time to get together, okay?"

"That’s fine. You call me if you need anything, and get some rest. That’s an order. Thompson out."

Kieran listened as the comm link was severed. She debated hailing Seven of Nine, or the Captain, to let them know Naomi was acting a little unusual. She decided against it, however. No need to panic the surrogate mothers over a child who needed to rest a little. Maybe Naomi had spent part of the day chasing Flotter and Trevis through the holodeck, although according to the youngest Bridge Officer in Starfleet history, she had outgrown such childish pursuits.

Kieran let it go. Before she could give it another thought, B'Elanna Torres, her fiancée and Voyager’s Chief of Engineering, came into her office wearing an amazingly slinky, revealing dress, which wiped Kieran’s thought processes clean and left only hormonal response.

"You look incredible," she breathed with effort. "Wow. Let me look," she motioned for B'Elanna to turn in a circle.

"You like it?" B'Elanna already knew the answer, and could barely hide her pleasure as Kieran lustfully inspected her.

"Anybody with eyes and a pulse would," she returned honestly. "Black is a good color for you. What’s it for?"

"Our vacation. We promised Kathryn and Seven we would all go dancing at least one night."

"Oh no," she sounded dismayed. "Like I’m going to be able to think about my feet while my arms are filled with you, looking like that."

B'Elanna slipped her arms around Kieran’s neck as Kieran’s arms encircled the smaller woman’s waist. "That’s the point. If you aren’t thinking about your feet, you might not step on mine quite so much," she teased. "Your whole problem with dancing is you think about it too much. You have to just let it flow."

Kieran gave her a devilish grin. "Oh, something’s flowing alright," she waggled her eyebrows.

"You’re awful, you know that?" B'Elanna stood on her tip toes to kiss her lover.

"Actually, I’m pretty good. Try me," she oozed innuendo.

"Maybe later, Counselor. You’re on duty." Then smiling seductively she added "Call me when you’re ready."

Kieran smiled regretfully. "I’m ready right now. Too bad my schedule says I’m not." Then holding her betrothed in strong arms, she said without the teasing tone "You are so attractive, B'Elanna. So beautiful. I hope you know what you do to me."

B'Elanna rested her head against Kieran’s shoulder. "I hope I make you as happy as you make me," she replied equally seriously. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," she murmured. Then stepping back and filling her eyes with the sight of her one true love, she added "Will you meet me in my quarters later? I was hoping we could have a quiet evening."

"I’ll be waiting, BangwIj. I’ll see you then."

Watching her walk away, Kieran couldn’t decide which side was more compelling, back or front.

_______________

Naomi checked the chronometer in her room, wondering what had become of Kathryn and Seven. They were ordinarily home by now, Kathryn working, stretched out on the couch, Seven helping her with her homework. She checked the living room. Not there.

"Computer, locate Seven of Nine."

"Seven of Nine is not on board Voyager."

"Computer, locate the Captain."

"Captain Janeway is not on board Voyager."

"Computer," Naomi said with growing irritation, "do I have any messages in my comm account?"

"Affirmative. You have five messages."

"Transfer them to the workstation in the Captain’s quarters, authorization Wildman Theta Chi 7."

"Transfer complete."

She scanned the readout. Kathryn had left her a note to say that she and Seven were detained on the surface of Ordan, and to be sure to eat dinner in the mess hall. If she needed anything, she was to contact B'Elanna or Kieran.

Naomi collapsed on the sofa, utterly exhausted. Too exhausted to walk all the way to the mess hall. She fell asleep within minutes of lying down.

When Janeway hailed her daughter on a break from negotiations with the Zhenfure, she got no answer. "Computer," she snapped. "Locate Naomi Wildman."

"Naomi Wildman is in the Captain’s quarters."

"Janeway to Wildman."

Nothing.

"Naomi, please respond."

Janeway felt the impending dread building. Still no reply.

"Janeway to Counselor Thompson."

"Yes Captain?"

"Kieran, I’m stuck on Ordan, and can’t get away. Seven is off with some diplomat discussing Borg technology. I can’t raise Naomi on the comm system. Can you check on her?"

"Right away. I’ll contact you shortly."

"Thanks, Kieran. Janeway out."

______________

"Good God, B'Elanna, she’s burning up," Kieran fussed over Naomi, who would not wake up.

"We better get her to sickbay. I’ll have to carry her."

"Shit. Kathryn is going to blow a plasma conduit if anything happens to this kid," B'Elanna cursed as they walked briskly to the turbolift.

"Doctor," Kieran barked as they came in. "A little help, here."

"What happened?" he started scanning the slightly built girl, who was quickly becoming all arms and legs.

"She told me earlier she was tired. Then we found her passed out on the couch. We can’t seem to rouse her."

"Her immune system is on overload," he noted without emotion. "Cortical activity is almost off the charts. I’d say it’s epilepsy, except I don’t detect any brain lesions, and she should be convulsing with the type of spikes the waves are making. Hmmm. Now there’s a brainwave pattern I’ve never seen before." He dispassionately loaded a hypospray and pressed it to the girl's throat. "That should shock her immune system back to a reasonable level of activity. But that brainwave pattern is highly irregular." He moved Kieran out of his way, rather than say "excuse me". Kieran momentarily considered shoving him back. "Ladies, thank you for your prompt attention to Miss Wildman’s condition. I need to run tests, so please get out of my way."

"Look, Doctor," Kieran said curtly, "I have to report to the Captain on Naomi’s condition. What should I tell her?"

"Tell her I’m running tests and will advise her as soon as I determine the nature of the illness."

B'Elanna lay her hand on Kieran’s arm to keep her from strangling the hologram, whom Kieran had pejoratively dubbed ‘the holo-wonder’ and ‘hollowdoc’.

"Easy," B'Elanna said under her breath. "Let’s at least wait until he cures Naomi before we kill him."

Kieran stepped into the corridor. "Thompson to Janeway," she said wearily. She dreaded having to tell Kathryn that Naomi was not conscious.

"Go ahead."

"Captain, Naomi is in sickbay. The Doctor is running some tests. She’s running a fever, and her immune system is malfunctioning. Her brain waves are abnormal. Did she spend any time on Ordan? Eat anything in particular on Voyager? Did she seem okay this morning?"

"She was on Ordan part of the morning. As for what she ate you’ll have to ask her."

"I can’t, Kathryn. She’s not conscious."

Silence.

"Kathryn?" The comm link went dead, and in a flash of blue light, Janeway materialized next to the startled pair.

Janeway entered sickbay with the most determined stride B'Elanna could ever remember seeing. She figured hollowdoc would be holding his holographic nuts in his hand any minute.

______________

Naomi found herself in a strange place, but she wasn’t sure if it was a cave, underground tunnels, or a building with a dark basement. She could hear the sound of dripping water, breathed the musty smell of stale air, and saw no natural light, so she presumed she was underground. She was covered in a thin, stringy layer of something wet and purple. "Hello?" she called out. It echoed eerily back to her.

"Naomi?" a gentle voice caressed her ears.

Naomi froze, afraid to hope. "Mommy? Is that you?"

Samantha Wildman stepped into the artificial light, holding out her arms. "It’s me, baby."

Naomi bolted across the room, throwing herself into Samantha’s arms. "I’ve missed you so much," she hugged her fiercely. "Why did you leave me?"

"I’m sorry, honey, I couldn’t help it. I tried to come back, but I couldn’t." She held her daughter at arm’s length. "You’ve grown so much. Just look at you." She pressed her hands over her mouth to suppress the tears that the sight of her only child prompted.

"Mommy, how can you be here? I don’t understand. You were in deep stasis. Did the Doctor wake you up?"

Samantha shook her head. "No. My body is still in stasis."

"Are you dead? A ghost? A holographic projection?"

"To be honest, I’m not sure. There’s an energy here, and it vibrates at the frequency of my current brainwave pattern, which is very, very depressed. Your brainwaves are diametrically opposite of mine, right now, and they are like two halves of a whole. The energy in this place can match your frequency or mine. Right now, it’s matching mine and changing yours to the remainder of the spectrum, and so we can communicate. I don’t know how long it will last."

Naomi hugged her tightly. "Do you know what’s been happening on Voyager? I mean, when you were in a coma, we all talked to you. Could you hear us?"

Samantha stroked her daughter’s long strawberry-blond hair. "Yes. I heard every word. But I couldn’t respond. I know you came to visit me every day, and that you were hurting. I wanted to talk to you, Naomi. I needed to tell you it would be okay. I felt so bad that I couldn’t even hold you when you were crying about me. I’m so sorry. I would have, if I could have."

"I know you would have." Then fearfully she asked "Are you going to get better?"

"I don’t think so, baby. In fact, I think it would be better if I didn’t. My body is too damaged for me to be a mother to you now, and I’d probably just be another burden on Voyager’s resources. If it’s okay with you, I was hoping to convince the Captain to let me die. But only if you can handle it. I’ve put you through too much as it is."

"I got through it so far. But you aren’t a burden, Mommy. But you’ve missed so much. Kathryn and Seven are married, and I live with them. Oh, and I made Bridge Assistant. And Neelix tried to fight Seven and Kathryn to get custody of me, but I told him I wanted to live with them. And I got kidnapped and Seven rescued me. I learned algebra, and now I’m working on calculus," she let it all pour out in a rush.

"How long have I been in stasis?"

" If you count the stasis period prior to deep stasis, Twenty-one months. If you only count deep stasis, Sixteen months, three days, 18 hours."

Samantha laughed. "Now I know Seven of Nine is raising you," she squeezed Naomi. "You don’t still want to be Borg, do you?"

"No. Seven’s not nearly as Borg as she used to be. She says that loving me and Kathryn has made her more human. I think she’s right. Although she slips back into it sometimes, like she’ll still call me Naomi Wildman, in that Borg tone," Naomi giggled. Then suddenly sad again she whispered "I miss you Mommy. You were my best friend. I love you. I never stopped loving you. Did you miss me?"

"Terribly, Naomi. Especially after they put me in deep stasis. Nobody comes to talk to me anymore. Not that I notice too much. I mean, if you hadn’t told me how long it’s been, I’d have guessed a few weeks was all."

"Oh Mommy, I’m so sorry, I never should have let them put you in deep stasis. I didn’t think you were aware of me, or anything else. They asked me what I thought was best, but none of us really knew. Do you really want us to let you die?"

"If you can bear it, yes. It’s very lonely. And I know Seven and the Captain will take good care of you. I’m just draining the ship’s power supply, as I am. And since this is such a big thing, a hard decision—I felt a need to speak with you about it in person." She dematerialized slightly, and Naomi clutched her tighter. "I think I’m fading, Naomi. The energy source is weakening. I love you. It’s okay to move on. I know you’ve been worried about ending up living with your Dad, and that it scares you because you’ve never met him. It won’t happen. I don’t know how I know that, but I do. You’ll be with Seven and Kathryn until well after you graduate, and can make your own choices. Oh, honey, I love you," she stifled a sob before she disappeared.

And all that remained was the sound of dripping water.

_____________

"Naomi," she heard someone call. "Sweetie, it’s Kathryn. Please, open your eyes."

Naomi’s mind seemed to float to the surface of consciousness, as if she had been submerged in deep, liquid darkness.

"Naomi," Seven’s voice held an edge of fear. "We are here. Please wake up."

Naomi’s mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. She tried to answer the two women who were clearly in need of her response. Finally, she saw light as her eyelids obeyed her and opened. "Mmm-Moms?" she choked on the word.

A collective sigh shushed through the sickbay. "We’re here, Naomi." Kathryn was holding her left hand, Seven her right, and Kieran and B'Elanna were standing at her feet, looking very upset.

"I—saw," she struggled to speak "Mo—Mommy."

As adults tend to do with children, they each dismissed the revelation as a byproduct of the illness, or whatever it was that was knocking the girl’s brainwaves into transwarp.

"I have—to tell—you," she labored over the words.

"Okay, sweetie, but for right now, you need to rest. The Doctor still isn’t sure what happened to you," Janeway used her most persuasive, gentlest voice.

"But—"

"Naomi Wildman," Seven reverted to Borg-speak. "You must comply. You are very weak."

"But—" she grasped at the transient thought, then was unconscious again.

_____________

The liquid was thick, purple, and warm. She felt herself sinking deeper, unable to see the surface or the bottom of the body of fluid. Then she was back in the basement, as she’d decided to call it for lack of a better description, and the dark, dank air that smelled of mildew and age. Samantha Wildman was sitting on some sort of mattress on the floor. She extended her hand to her daughter.

"I’m glad you could come back, Naomi," she smiled affectionately. "I wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye."

Naomi sat down beside her, leaning into her as she put an arm around Naomi’s shoulders. "They looked at me like I was crazy," she sounded frustrated. "When I said I’d seen you, they didn’t believe it."

"You know how grownups are," Samantha sympathized. "But you can tell them something that they can’t dispute. Let’s see," she considered. "You tell Neelix I said ‘No more waiting, Sweeting.’ He’ll know you must have talked to me."

Naomi turned to look at her Mother, taking in the soft platinum blond hair, the round cheeks, the perfect smile. "I’d forgotten how pretty you are. And how it feels when you hug me. I don’t remember your voice being so beautiful. I don’t want to ever leave here, Mommy."

"I know baby. But you can’t stay. Neither can I. The energy I told you about that’s connecting us? It has to draw so much from us to make this work, that our bodies can’t sustain it for long. We’ll die if we try to stay. Well, you’ll die, I’ll just go on like a jar of preservatives," she tried to inject a little levity.

"You never met Kieran," she said with a broad smile. "You’d like her. That’s the sort of joke she would make."

Samantha hugged her. "You mean Kieran Thompson? I met her several times. Didn’t know her though, not really. Is she your friend?"

"She’s—I don’t know what to call her. She’s not just a friend. I love her a lot more than a friend. She’s so pretty, and smart, and kind. And really funny." Naomi frowned. "I feel so insignificant when I’m around her, like I wish I could save her life, or something important that would mean a lot to her. I think about her all the time. She’s really good about making sure she spends time with me, even though she’s busy with her duties, or with B'Elanna. Oh, did I tell you, she’s the ship’s counselor? And," she added rather wistfully, "she’s engaged to B'Elanna Torres."

Samantha hid her knowing grin. The jealousy in her daughter’s voice was unmistakable. "I think I understand how you feel about Kieran," Samantha kissed her hair. "I used to fantasize about doing great things for the people I loved, too, when I was your age. Noble, heroic things that would make them notice me, make them love me back."

"Did you ever manage to do anything noble or heroic for one of them?" she sounded hopeful.

Samantha laughed. "No, but I eventually understood that winning someone’s love isn’t nearly as good as having them just give it to you because they can’t help but give it." She hugged Naomi again. "It’ll happen for you too, honey, I promise. Someone will love you totally, unconditionally, and not because you did something for them, but because they can’t stand to be without you."

"Is that what it feels like to be in love? Like you will die if you can’t have someone?"

"Sort of, but what you’re describing sounds more like dependency and infatuation. Being in love is pretty peculiar. It’s not that feeling that you’ll die if you can’t have someone, but more that having someone makes you more alive."

Naomi sighed. "Sometimes I look at Kieran, and I just hurt all over. I know she loves me. But somehow, I want something else from her. I just want her to love me like I love her."

Samantha knew her daughter was a lot more mature than most children her age. The Ktarian half of Naomi’s genetic make-up served to accelerate her growth and development. But Samantha was sorry Naomi was prematurely experiencing adolescent feelings. Talking about Kieran was obviously painful for her. She could only hope that Kieran was as sensitive and kind as Naomi seemed to think.

"I’m feeling myself starting to fade again," she advised her daughter regretfully. "You remember to tell Neelix what I said. And then tell the Captain I’m ready to let go, and it’s okay to let me pass on."

Naomi’s eyes filled with tears. "Okay, Mommy. If that’s what you really want."

Samantha kissed her hair again. "I love you, baby. I will always, always love you."

And with that, Samantha Wildman vanished.

______________

"Doctor, she’s coming around," Janeway snapped, frazzled with exhaustion and worry. Seven was immediately behind her, supporting her with Borg-enhanced, solid arms.

The EMH ran a scanner over the pale, outstretched little girl with his usual disinterested smirk. "A very astute observation, Captain," he said sarcastically.

B'Elanna had to restrain Kieran from savagely beating the arrogance out of him. "I think I’m going to have start calling him hollowdick, instead of hollowdoc," she muttered.

"Counselor," B'Elanna silenced her with a warning tone.

"Sorry. He doesn’t have to be such an asshole, though," she kept her voice low, so only B'Elanna could hear. She forgot about Seven’s enhanced Borg hearing.

Seven glanced back over her shoulder with a strained expression, but her eyes were grateful. "Agreed," was all she said. It was taking all her control to keep her from throttling the Doctor, herself. Kathryn did not need his irritating comments at a time like this.

"Kathryn? Seven?" Naomi was able to speak, at least, this time.

"We’re right here, sweetie," Kathryn soothed her. "It’s okay."

"I have to talk to you," Naomi croaked out in a raspy voice. "My mother is ready for us to let her go," she said.

Seven stroked the pale cheek, thinking that the fever must have given Naomi bad dreams. "You were only dreaming, sweetheart. You mother is secured in deep stasis."

"No, this wasn’t a dream," Naomi insisted, getting angry. "She told me you’d think that. She told me that she could prove it was real, if I give Neelix a message."

"Well, her brain waves are back to normal," the Doctor announced. "But she could be suffering from the after effects, I suppose," he continued scanning. "Naomi, how many instruments do you count on my tray?"

"Stop it!!" Naomi shouted. "I’m not dreaming, I’m not delirious, and I’m not hallucinating. I have been with my mother!"

"Let me just give you a little something to calm you down," the Doctor reached for a hypospray, but Kieran snatched his wrist.

"I think this is my department, Doctor. No sedatives. You’d think after all the unexpected things we’ve seen in the Delta Quadrant, we’d be less apt to doubt Naomi, and certainly less eager to drug her into silence," she glared coldly at the EMH.

She moved alongside the angry Ktarian, who was sitting up now. "Tell me what happened, sweetie. I believe you," she held Naomi’s hand. "Please, tell me everything."

"Will you call Neelix for me?" she asked Kieran, her bottom lip trembling.

"Of course I will. Counselor Thompson to Mr. Neelix," she obediently hailed him. "You are required in sickbay at once."

Naomi regarded the tall, doe-eyed woman with gentle appreciation. "Thank you, Kieran. I’m glad somebody knows me well enough to know I’m not going Suder," she glanced at the others with an obstinate frown that bordered on a glare, no doubt an expression she learned from Janeway. The crew called it Janeway’s "SRGB" look, because when she levelled it at you, they agreed, you didn’t know whether to shit, run, or go blind. "Going Suder" was a slang term the crew had come up with for going crazy. Lon Suder had been a Maquis crew member, and was eventually discovered to be a serial killer. He had escaped from the brig when the Kazon took over Voyager, and he had been killed by the Kazon Nystrum.

"Everybody is just a little out of sorts, Naomi. We’ve all been worried sick about you. So try not to be too hard on us," Kieran replied kindly. "Okay?"

She always knows exactly what to say to make it right with Naomi, Janeway thought.

"You’re right, I’m sorry," she readily agreed. "Neelix is here."

"What can I do for you Counselor—Naomi, are you okay?" he asked as he bustled into the room.

"I’m fine Neelix. But I have to talk to you all. Doctor, if you would excuse us?" she asked politely, knowing it would frost his subroutines to miss out on the details. "Could I have some water, please?"

Janeway fetched it for her. "Okay, Naomi, we’re all listening," she prodded her.

Naomi took a deep breath and collected her thoughts. "Ordan must have some life form on it that exists as energy, if I understood what Mommy was saying. She told me that the energy—she didn’t say if it was sentient or not—was capable of vibrating at the same frequency as her brainwave pattern, which is very, very depressed, She said it was like our brainwave patterns, mine and hers together, made up two halves of a whole, and that by forming the whole, we were able to communicate. She said my brainwave pattern was dia-dia-"

"Diametrically?" Seven offered.

"Yes, that’s it, diametrically opposite of hers. She said the ‘energy’ was matching her frequency and changing mine, so it would make up the remainder of the spectrum. And that’s what was letting us communicate." Naomi stopped for a breath and a drink of water. "I hope I explained that right. Does it make sense?"

"Sounds plausible to me," B'Elanna said. Then to the others, she said "We could easily check the readout of Naomi’s pattern against Samantha’s by the time index."

"She also told me she is ready to die," Naomi continued. "She says it’s lonely in stasis, and nobody comes to visit her anymore. She says her body is too damaged to be a mother to me, even if she could regain consciousness, which she can’t." Naomi swallowed hard. "She wants us to cut off the life support system."

"Absolutely not!" Neelix erupted. "There’s always a chance she could get better. We’d be her executioners if we halted life support."

Janeway laid a hand on his forearm. "Calm down, Mr. Neelix. Nobody’s pulling any plugs at the moment," she bit her words off.

"What if it is just a dream, Naomi?" Neelix pleaded. "We can’t just take it on faith that Samantha wants us to let her die."

"I know. I told Mommy as much. She told me there was something I could tell you, Neelix, that would prove it really is her choice. She said to say to you ‘No more waiting, Sweeting’. She said you’d know what that means."

Neelix’ yellow and brown skin, flecked with shades of green, purple, and blue, was suddenly transparent, and the tufts of fur on his jowls stood straight out. He grabbed the edge of the biobed as his knees threatened to buckle. "Nobody would know what that means besides Samantha and I," he swayed on gelatinous legs.

Kieran, ever the ship’s Counselor, asked "How do you feel about what your mother wants us to do, Naomi?"

"Mommy told me we should only do it if I could bear it. She said she didn’t want to put me through any more. I don’t know if I can bear it," she gazed fearfully up at Kieran, who still held her hand, "but I don’t want her to suffer any more than she has already. She’s sad, and lonely. And I don’t think I can bear to know that by hanging onto her, I’m causing her to suffer that way. So I guess it’s as clear as it’s going to get. She told me it’s okay for me to move on. That’s what she wants me to do, and that’s what she wants to do." She sighed, and leaned against Kieran, always able to find strength in her friend. Kieran put an arm around her.

"Was there anything else?"

"She said that she could hear all of us when we visited or talked to her. She knew that I sat here everyday and cried for her. She—she said she was sorry that she couldn’t talk to me, or hold me," Naomi was weeping silently, thinking about her mother, and realizing she would probably never see her again.

The Doctor came back into the room. "I am afraid I’m going to have to ask you all to leave. Naomi needs to eat, and get some sleep." Seeing that they were not inclined to scatter at his whim, he started moving them toward the door. "Go on, shoo, shoo," he urged with pure condescension. "Get out of my sickbay."

Kieran had had it. "Doctor—a word with you, if you don’t mind."

"I do mind," he quipped. "Now run along."

She looked over her shoulder. They were out of Naomi’s visual range. She snatched him by the front of his uniform, dragged him into his office, and slammed him up against the wall.

"I don’t appreciate your attitude, Doctor. You are rude, arrogant, conceited, smarmy, and unprofessional. You are the least empathetic personality I’ve ever encountered in a medical uniform. I am sick of the way you talk to your patients and the crew. I am especially sick of the way you treat the Captain. Your attitude makes a difficult situation intolerable," she was growling an inch from his face. "In the future, you will not address the Captain as if she were an inconvenience. You will treat her with the respect she is due, Doctor. In fact, if I ever hear you use that superior tone with the Captain again, I will personally wipe out your data module of snappy comebacks and replace it with strict Starfleet protocol data. I have that authority as Ship’s Counselor," her voice was as threatening as it had ever been in her life. "Now, you will apologize to her immediately, or I will do some immediate maintenance on your psychological subroutines. In short, Doctor, you will adjust your attitude, or I will adjust it for you."

"You wouldn’t dare, Counselor," he sounded bored.

"Try me. Now get your ass out there and apologize to the Captain and Seven, and don’t forget Naomi, either," she let go of his uniform, brushing it off, as if he could get dirty. "Well?" she raised her voice menacingly. He was staring at her stubbornly. "Computer," she said with mock pleasantness, "transfer read and edit access of EMH subprocessors alpha, beta, and delta, to my office, authorization—"

"I’m going, Counselor," he sniffed haughtily.

Kieran’s face was impassive as stone . She was decidedly sorry that holograms don’t bruise.

__________________

Back in the Captain’s quarters, the four women split a much needed bottle of wine. Kieran was grateful that no one had overheard her little tirade against the hollowdick. She wondered if she’d managed to duplicate the Janeway SRGB look. Pity that holograms can’t shit their pants, she thought.

Janeway was leaning against the couch, sitting on the floor. Seven sat on the couch kneading her spouse’s shoulders, which were in knots. Kathryn’s head was arched backward, resting on Seven’s chest, her eyes closed in supplication to the miraculous hands that wrung the tension from her muscles. "So, Counselor," she murmured between appreciative groans as Seven worked her over, "exactly where does one purchase a giant can of whoop-ass designed for a holographic smart aleck?" she asked, trying to hide her amusement.

"Damn, you heard?" Kieran was genuinely dismayed.

"Not only did I hear, I applaud your intent, if not your approach. I wish I had thought to have somebody put a smart-ass filter on his program before we declared him sentient. Too late now. Except for you. You could change his program anytime you like, and I’d sign the authorization form."

"Kathryn!" Seven chastised her partner. "You would not!"

"I don’t know about that," she admitted. "He’s not just an irritation, he really might be detrimental to the recovery of his patients, at times. Not everybody is thick skinned enough to know when he is just being his usual rude self. Especially Naomi. I don’t like the way he talks about her in the third person, as if she isn’t there. And I don’t much care for his arbitrary decision to throw us out of sickbay, because he feels like flexing his holographic muscles."

"My thoughts exactly, Captain," Kieran agreed.

"But Counselor, do you suppose you could refrain from assaulting him when you issue a reprimand, next time?"

B'Elanna piped up. "Can you assault something with no corporeal substance?"

"I apologize, Captain, and I will apologize to the Doctor. I did, however, make sure that Naomi could not see me when I slammed him into the wall," Kieran said softly.

"For which I am grateful Counselor. As such, I won’t be forced to mention your momentary lapse in patience in your service record."

The room grew deathly still, as the three subordinate officers held their breath. None were sure if Janeway was angry enough to pursue it, or just too tired to care. Seven stopped massaging her shoulders, waiting for the other shoe to fall. "Kieran?" Janeway kept her eyes closed.

"Yes ma’am?" It felt like crunch time to her.

"Thanks. Thanks for what you said to him about treating me like an inconvenience. And for telling him to treat me with the proper respect. I appreciate your loyalty to me."

"You’re welcome, Captain." She smiled again, glad she hadn’t completely pissed off her role model and best friend.

"And Counselor?"

"Yes Captain?"

"Thank you for being the only person with the wisdom to validate what Naomi was trying to tell us. Your show of faith made me realize how unfair I was being to her. No wonder she trusts you the most, of all of us."

"You don’t have to thank me for loving her, Kathryn. That’s all I did."

"No, Kieran, that’s far from all you’ve done. And I appreciate it. And I won’t ever forget it."

B'Elanna was getting a little uncomfortable with all the raw emotion in the room. She didn’t think she’d ever seen Janeway so worn out, except maybe when Chakotay defied her over that whole Equinox matter.

"Kathryn, you are exhausted, and we should be going," B'Elanna pointed out.

"Do you really have to go?" Janeway was pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Not if you need us to stay," B'Elanna wasn’t sure it was the right response, but it would have to do.

Suddenly the room was filled with choking and gagging sounds. Kieran fell over, eyes rolled back in her head, convulsing as if she’d been electrically shocked.

______________

She came out of a vast body of liquid, too viscuous to be water, but devoid of chemical smell. She stood there dripping, the purple substance puddling around her feet. She was in some sort of dungeon, she surmised, dark and musty.

"Thanks for coming."

Kieran spun around with a start, reaching for her phaser, which was not hanging from her uniform.

"Don’t panic, Ensign. It’s me—Samantha Wildman. Ooops, sorry, I guess you’re not an Ensign anymore," she amended, spying the pips. "Please, don’t be afraid Lieutenant. Come sit with me. Here, take this and dry off, before you catch a chill."

Samantha tossed her a towel. Kieran eyed it suspiciously, but thought better of it and dried herself. She sat down with Samantha. "I guess it would be silly to ask how you’ve been," she noted wryly. "Why am I here?"

Samantha took Kieran’s hand. "Because you’re extremely important to my daughter. The entity that is allowing us to be here, together, agreed to help me contact you. Sorry the entity had to do a number on your body, but you’ll recover."

"Why not ask to speak with Seven or Kathryn? They’re raising Naomi."

Samantha smiled. "Naomi sees them for what they are—her co-mothers. I don’t need to talk to them. They have done an outstanding job with her."

"But I haven’t."

"I didn’t mean to imply that," she squeezed Kieran’s hand, eyes shining with an unmistakable fondness. "Naomi cannot see you for what you are, right now. She knows you’re her friend. But she is in love with you, in the way only a child can be."

Kieran winced. "No. She has a crush, maybe, but seven-year-olds don’t fall in love."

Samantha shrugged, reached up to arrange her long blond hair, and smiled sympathetically at the Counselor. "Mine apparently does. Keep in mind, she’s half Ktarian. She’s going to mature faster than a human child. Who can say she’s incapable of falling in love? I admit, it’s not the sort of love an adult falls into, but it’s just as real to Naomi. She doesn’t have a sexual frame of reference, yet, but she can accurately elaborate the feelings she has for you. You can put any label on it you like—hero worship, a crush, whatever. The fact remains that she cares deeply for you, and you have the potential to break her heart."

"You can’t be serious," Kieran argued. "My god, she’s just a baby, Sam."

"You must know better than anyone that she’s not. She’s reading at the high school level, or so I’d estimate from her vocabulary. She’s doing calculus. She is very bright, and she’s been around adults her entire life. She doesn’t have a seven-year-old’s frame of reference," Samantha quickly pointed out. "And you know what she’s been through. She’s had to grow up awfully fast," Samantha reached for Kieran’s hand again. "I don’t mean to upset you, Kieran, but consider the fact that she has no peer group on Voyager. If Voyager spends 60 years in the Delta Quadrant, she is going to have pathetically limited choices about marrying, bearing children, or having any future."

Kieran rested her chin on her knees. "I didn’t even think of that. There are no kids on board. She’ll either have to marry someone twenty to forty years her senior, or someone much younger than herself—and that’s assuming the moratorium on reproduction is lifted. Otherwise, she’d have to settle on some planet with another culture, and I know she’d never leave Seven and Kathryn to do that. Oh god, this is awful. Do you think she’s realized how limited her options are going to be?"

"I don’t think so. I hope not, anyway. Right now, all she sees is you. What might be someday hasn’t really occurred to her. But she is realizing she has serious feelings about you. Although she’s nowhere near being an adolescent physiologically her emotions are adolescent, Kieran, not that of a child. She couches them in terms of adolescent fantasies—you know the type—fantasies where she saves your life, and you are eternally grateful, or where she fights for your honor, that sort of thing. She fantasizes about winning your love. Do you remember what it was like when you had your first genuine glimpse of what being in love was about?"

Kieran nodded glumly. "It was such a miserable time. Always unsure of myself, scared, and confused by all the things going on in my body and my heart." She sighed. "Tell me this isn’t happening, please. B'Elanna and I are getting married. How can I get through this without breaking Naomi’s heart?"

"You’re the Counselor. I guess you’ll have to figure it out. I only know when she told me about your engagement, she was trying to be happy for you, but her jealousy was obvious. She is conflicted. She wants you to be happy, but wishes it could be with her. That is, she wants it to be with her to the extent that she understands what it means to ‘be with’ someone."

Kieran held her head in her hands. "Sam, are you really sure about this? Is there any chance you’re misreading her?"

"I believe her exact words were ‘Sometimes I look at Kieran, and I just hurt all over. I know she loves me. But somehow, I want something else from her. I just want her to love me like I love her’. Does that sound like ‘just a crush’ to you?"

"Oh shit. I am so screwed. What do I do? I’d rather lose an arm than hurt her. But I can’t do anything to make it easier. B'Elanna has started to talk about setting a date for the wedding, and sooner or later, it’s going to happen. I don’t think I could convince B'Elanna to postpone the wedding until Naomi falls out of love with me." Kieran’s distress was making her guts churn.

"The only advice I can give you is be honest with Naomi. Set her expectations now, before she can buy into any false hope. And don’t be surprised if she withdraws from you for awhile. She might need to put a little distance between herself and you. Let her take the lead—if she wants to spend time with you, fine, but if she needs space, don’t push her," she sighed. "That’s all I can offer. I only wanted to warn you about what’s coming."

"Great. Next time you’re in the neighborhood, don’t stop by. Now let me ask you something. Do you really want us to disconnect your life support system?"

"Yes. I’m too damaged, as Seven would say. It’s time to move on. Speaking of which, I have to go now. The entity is about to drain your body dry. If you don’t go back now, you’ll die."

"More good news," she quipped, as Sam faded into blackness.

The next thing she knew, she was surfacing toward the light above her.

________________

Kieran felt like hell. Every joint in her body screamed, every inch of flesh burned, and her head was full of angry insects buzzing mercilessly. The buzzing was gradually replaced by the sound of a voice, then another. One voice, soft and desperate, kept saying "Don’t leave me, Kieran, I need you" or some variation of those words. The other voice, low and throaty, but equally desperate whispered "I never even told you how much I value your friendship, or how much I love you."

She struggled to leave the ocean of purple fluid, but the surface started getting farther away, it seemed. She heard a dispassionate voice declare "That’s it. We’ve lost her."

And then she heard a high pitched voice keening "No." She fought to reach the sound of that anguished cry. The light got closer as she focused on that distraught sound. She saw a hand reach down through the murky fluid. A tiny, fragile hand. She stretched to grasp it, though it seemed so very far away. She couldn’t breathe, her chest ached, her brain felt like it couldn’t assimilate oxygen, but her hand made it to Naomi’s, and she surfaced.

_______________

"That’s it. We’ve lost her," the Doctor pronounced. "Computer, log time of death on my mark. Mark."

The monitors and biobed displays went black. Seven grabbed B'Elanna, who couldn’t stand on her own. Naomi leapt from the adjacent biobed and threw herself across Kieran’s body, screaming "No!" Kathryn collapsed into a chair, disbelief and pain etched in her facial features.

Naomi clung to her friend, shrieking the word "no" and looking at the face she loved so much with complete despair.

The monitors and biobed displays reactivated, and five bowed heads shot up in disbelief.

"Computer, belay that last order," Janeway shouted. "Doctor?"

"I don’t understand it. She was dead. But she’s not now."

"What do you mean, she was but she’s not?" Seven queried.

"I’m a doctor, not a theologian or an epistemologist," he said, not unkindly. "She’s just—back with us."

"Naomi?" Kieran’s voice was weak, but unmistakable.

"I’m here," the little Ktarian assured her.

"Naomi? You saved my life," she choked out the words.

Bewildered, she protested. "I didn’t do anything."

"You did, too," Kieran insisted, regaining her voice slightly. "It was your hand that reached for me. I was suffocating in that infernal purple ocean, and you reached below the surface and pulled me up. You saved my life."

___________________________

The Doctor was not inclined to keep Kieran in sickbay any longer than necessary after the little confrontation they had had, and as soon as she was stable, he released her. She had said little about her experience to anyone, preferring to mull it over before trying to explain the bizarre event of meeting with Samantha Wildman.

Naomi was staying in Kieran’s quarters during the day as part of her duties as Bridge Assistant. Captain Janeway was worried about leaving Kieran alone, and Naomi was more than happy to watch over her. Naomi was under strict orders to initiate an emergency transport to sickbay if Kieran had so much as a twitch, let alone another convulsion.

Kieran was mostly exhausted. Although her vascular system had been taxed severely, the Doctor was certain her mechanical heart was undamaged, and the supporting vascular structures were intact. He had advised strict bed rest for at least a week.

Naomi sat on the edge of the bed, studying Kieran’s face. Her usual rosy complexion was gone, leaving her pallid and worn looking. Even though she slept, her brow was knitted, as if something was making her angry or upset. Her hair lay in a tangle on her pillow, the usual soft brown sheen muted to a dull, brittle appearance. Her lips, usually full and soft, were dry and marred. Naomi was flooded with sadness as she surveyed the beloved face. Kieran had always been so pretty and robust, and now she looked so fragile. Naomi unconsciously raised her hand to Kieran’s cheek, caressing it absently, wishing she could make her feel better.

Kieran stirred at the fleeting touch, blinking like a sleepy owl with bloodshot eyes, trying to swallow despite a parched throat. She couldn’t even manage a smile for her acting nurse.

"Water?" she croaked, her voice painfully dehydrated.

Naomi scrambled to get her a glass of iced water, and helped her sit up to drink it. "Can I get you anything? Are you hungry?" Naomi was eager to help.

Kieran shook her head, draining the glass, and regaining some of her vocal strength. "I’d drink more water," she managed to say.

Naomi obediently ordered the replicator to produce a large pitcher with three parts water to one part ice, and delivered the container to Kieran’s night stand. "I don’t mean to nag you, but you haven’t eaten a thing today," Naomi gently prodded.

Kieran gave her a hint of a smile. "Ok. How about soup? Corn chowder?"

"Acceptable," Naomi automatically answered. Again she programmed the replicator.

Kieran regarded her with concern. "Have you eaten anything yet today?"

Naomi shook her head. "Not since breakfast. Seven never let’s me leave before I’ve had that. I’m not really hungry," she dissembled.

"Unacceptable," she mimicked Naomi’s Borg tone. "Replicate two bowls."

Naomi knew better than to argue. Kieran could be very stubborn.

They ate in silence, each contemplating the other. Kieran caught Naomi staring at her, which was nothing new, but the expression on her face was definitely different than it had been when she was younger. Gone was the open acceptance and blind adoration. It had been replaced by a searching look, as if Naomi expected to suddenly discover some important answer in Kieran’s eyes. It unnerved Kieran, considering what Samantha Wildman had told her.

"Is there something you want to ask me, Naomi?" She finished her soup and placed the empty bowl on her nightstand, beside the pitcher.

"Why do you ask?" Naomi’s eyes were fixed on her lunch.

"Because you keep staring at me, as if there’s a question on the tip of your tongue," she explained, leaning back against her headboard for support.

"I’m just—worried about you. I can see how bad you’re feeling, and I wish I could do something," she explained. Then timidly, she added "I also wanted to ask you what you meant when you said I saved your life."

Kieran conjured up a smile, however faint. "I’m not really feeling up to talking about it, but I promise to explain soon."

Naomi hid her disappointment. "Okay. You won’t forget?"

"Nope. Cross my heart," she swiped her finger over her chest in an ‘X’.

She slept the rest of the afternoon, and B’Elanna came to replace Naomi as acting nurse as soon as her shift in Engineering was over.

By midweek, Kieran was regaining her usual vigor, and was able to talk for extended periods without collapsing into a deep sleep. Naomi was relieved to see the improvement, but she still hovered protectively anytime she was with Kieran.

Kieran was sleeping one afternoon, and Naomi crawled up on the bed next to her. She curled up behind the slumbering woman, contouring her body against Kieran’s back, and slipping an arm around Kieran’s waist. She lay awake for a long time, reveling in the feeling of warmth and security, and eventually drifted off to sleep herself.

Naomi woke up when she felt Kieran clasp her hand, laying her arm over Naomi’s. Naomi was immediately aware of the way her skin tingled where Kieran touched her. It tickled, like electricity, and she was intrigued by the sensation. Kieran squeezed her arm, murmuring "B’Elanna?"

Naomi didn’t answer, hoping Kieran would drift back to sleep. After a brief interlude, she was rewarded by the sound of soft snoring. She hugged Kieran then, loathe to give up the closeness of her slender form. She says I saved her life. I guess that means she will finally have to love me like I love her, if I really did save her life. She thought about the holonovels where just such an event led two people to realize their love for each other. I hope it doesn’t hurt B’Elanna too much. I don’t want to make her unhappy. But this just feels so right. She’ll have to see that. If she really loves Kieran, she won’t hold her back.

When Kieran awoke, Naomi was lying in her arms, head on her chest, deep in sleep. Kieran stroked Naomi’s hair fondly, remembering how the girl had reached through that fluidic abyss to retrieve her from the entity. Kieran wondered how that had been possible. Naomi had somehow entered that other world in corporeal form, without having her physical body in this world co-opted by the ‘entity’. She would have to ask Kathryn how it was possible. Kathryn was a whiz at temporal physics, not Kieran’s strong suit. B’Elanna often consulted with Kathryn on such matters, because the Captain was such an excellent resource. Somehow, Naomi had existed simultaneously in two places. Whether it was accurate to call those places dimensions, alternative worlds, parallel universes, or hallucinations, Kieran couldn’t say.

Naomi started in her embrace, then relaxed back into Kieran as she realized where she was. She moved in even closer, snuggling tightly against Kieran’s side. In a sleepy voice, she asked "Have you told B’Elanna, yet?"

Kieran wasn’t following her train of thought. "Told her what?"

"You know," she prompted her. "Told her about us?"

Kieran felt a bolt of cold fear shoot through her. "What are you talking about, Naomi?" she struggled to remain calm.

"You said I saved your life, right?" Naomi tried to be patient.

"Yes."

"Well then, if I saved your life, shouldn’t you tell B’Elanna that you’re in love with me, now, and not her?" She gazed at her idol with such innocent, hopeful, hazel eyes, Kieran felt her own heart break. Naomi was serious as a heart attack. Before Kieran could answer, Naomi moved so that she was looking down at Kieran, and she kissed her full on the lips.

Kieran launched herself out of bed in one motion, leaving a bewildered little girl gaping at her, eyes tinged with pain. Realizing she had made a terrible mistake in assuming that things were different between them now, Naomi covered her mouth in horror. She ran from the room and out of Kieran’s quarters, as if the Hirogen were hot on her heels. She ran to her own home, fled to her bedroom, threw herself on the bed and cried her eyes out.

___________________________

Seven of Nine finished the comparative analysis of the brainwave data taken from Samantha and Naomi’s medical records. Naomi’s description of them had been accurate. They were like opposite images of each other, forming a whole spectrum together. She wondered what sort of life form could be responsible for Naomi’s and Kieran’s recent experiences. The Borg had never encountered any species that could usurp brainwaves as a means of communication, at least not in the manner this energy form appeared to use.

Seven wondered if it were the same thing as telepathy, but she quickly dismissed that notion. She had never known of a telepath who could actually transport thought processes into a material realm. Naomi was adamant that she had physical substance ‘over there’. She contended that Samantha had touched her, held her, and that both of them had had a material existence in that other world. Seven likened it to her own experience with a Vulcan mind meld. Tuvok had once melded with her to retrieve her from a fugue state, and it had seemed to her that each of them had physical form while they were linked. She would have to discuss this with the Security Chief. His logic and detachment would provide a fresh perspective on the baffling events of the past week.

She keyed in a message to Tuvok, checked her comm account, and headed for sickbay. Seeing that no one was awake at that hour, she crept into the stasis ward, where Samantha Wildman’s body was in a closed stasis unit.

"Samantha Wildman," she began. "I do not know if you can hear me. Naomi says that you can. Naomi says that you are lonely. I am sorry that none of us, I in particular, ever thought to visit you since you were placed in deep stasis. Please forgive my ignorance. If I had known, I would have encouraged Naomi to continue to visit you as she did daily, immediately after your accident. I believe you would be pleased at the changes in your daughter. Kathryn and I are so very proud of her. She is a remarkable individual, Samantha. She is kind, generous, hard-working, mature, unselfish, and possesses superior intellect. She is turning out to be an unexpected asset to this crew.

"Naomi has added a dimension to my life that I value beyond what words can express. Kathryn and I have discussed many times how grateful we are for everything she brings to our family, our marriage, and our future. I wanted to tell you that we are indebted to you for creating such a wonderful person to share our lives. We both love Naomi very much. We will endeavor to raise her in an atmosphere of unconditional love and support. You need not worry for her safety or her happiness. I promise you, I will personally see to both.

"I hope you understand why Kathryn and I did not let Neelix take custody of Naomi. At the time of your accident, he was incapable of providing a proper home for her. By the time he had recovered sufficiently to take care of her, she had been with Kathryn and I for several weeks, and wanted to remain with us. I do not believe Neelix has ever forgiven us for what he perceives to be an injustice. He has mentioned many times that as Naomi’s Godparent, he had the obligation to raise her. Kathryn and I got him to agree that Naomi should choose for herself. Ultimately, she chose us. I want you to understand that we did our best to do the right thing. If we were wrong to let her choose, I would willingly let the entity that you have encountered take me to where you and I could discuss this matter. Although she has said very little about her visit with you, Kieran seemed to think that you were satisfied with the results of Kathryn’s and my efforts with Naomi, so I hope it will not be necessary to meet. If you wish to discuss anything, please, be sure to tell the entity to take me. The process is very dangerous for adults, we have discovered. Kieran almost died. I ask that you not put Kathryn through the same experience, please. I would be of no use to Naomi if Kathryn were gone. I do not believe I could function within acceptable parameters without Kathryn.

"I wanted to let you know, also, that had it not been for Naomi in our lives, Kathryn and I would probably never have been able to admit our feelings for each other. We certainly would not have the happiness we do now. If you are certain you no longer wish to wait for a possible cure for your condition, we will respect your wishes. If there is anything more you wish to know, I am waiting for you to contact me. Thank you, Samantha, for making it possible for me to find my place in this world."

Seven felt a little foolish, talking to an unconscious person, but she trusted that Samantha would understand her intentions were good, if not her method. She placed her hand on the chamber, peering in through the glass. "Goodbye, Samantha. Be happy," she whispered, and quietly left the stasis ward.

____________________________

B'Elanna Torres paced the ready room floor, gesturing wildly. "I’ve never seen her like this, Captain. She is so depressed, but she won’t talk about it. She says Samantha gave her a lot to think about, and that she needs me to ‘understand’ while she works through it." Torres’ eyes were filled with pain and frustration.

Janeway nodded ascent. "I know. She won’t agree to see Naomi, and Naomi has asked several times. Kieran tells Naomi she isn’t feeling up to it, yet. But she also refuses to let Naomi stay with her while you’re at work, and Naomi hasn’t insisted on babysitting her. Does she seem ill? I could send the Doctor to check her out."

"She doesn’t seem to have any physical problems, well, except she won’t—you know," B'Elanna didn’t want to say it. "Not since the experience."

Janeway tried to be tactful. "You mean she won’t make love with you?" B'Elanna nodded, her face clouding over. Janeway pursed her lips. "Ah, B'Elanna, how long between times does she usually wait?"

"Never more than a couple of days, and rarely that long. Dammit, who is supposed to counsel the Counselor?"

"I’d like to try to talk to her, and if that doesn’t work, maybe she needs to set an appointment with Dee."

Dee was the name they had given to the holographic representation of Deanna Troi, who was serving as Kieran’s supervisor and consultant. Kieran had never been to the Counselor Training program at the Academy, and had insisted on having a superior with whom she could confer.

B'Elanna’s dark eyes lit up. "Why didn’t I think of that? That’s a great idea. Dee is programmed to know Kieran, and she could help, I bet."

"I do have them, every so often," Janeway said sarcastically. "Try not to worry B'Elanna. We’ll get her through this, whatever it is."

"I want to believe you, Kathryn, but she is just so unreachable right now. Well, thanks for listening. When do you think you’ll meet with her?"

Janeway shrugged. "No time like the present."

________________

Kieran Thompson arranged her long legs on Kathryn’s sofa, trying not to look as despondent as she felt. She nervously glanced around to make sure Naomi wasn’t home. The trepidation wasn’t lost on Janeway, and she just knew Kieran was thinking she might run into Naomi.

Janeway placed the tea service on the coffee table, poured them both cups of Jamaica Blend, and sat close to Kieran. "Hey stranger," she peered into deep brown eyes. "Where have you been keeping yourself?"

Kieran fidgeted, toying with the bone china cup she held. "Around. I’m just trying to work through some of what Samantha told me."

"Why won’t you tell anyone what she said?" Janeway made her tone as persuasive as she could.

"We’ve been over this already, Kathryn. There’s just so much to think about. And as I said before, it’s too embarrassing, not to mention that I feel like I’ve been eavesdropping on somebody else’s feelings."

"Eavesdropping?" Kathryn put a hand on her best friend’s knee, encouraging her to elaborate.

"Yes. Samantha told me some things about Naomi, and repeated some conversations she’d had with her. I feel strange having been privvy to that information. I wish I hadn’t been."

"Kieran," Kathryn fixed her with steel gray eyes. "If this is about Naomi, you have to tell me. I need to know," she urged.

Janeway was completely taken aback when Kieran put down her coffee cup, having not touched the dark liquid, and burst into tears. Kathryn took her into her arms and rocked her, now terribly afraid of what Kieran was about to tell her. She patted the young woman’s back, smoothed her hair into its perpetual braid, offered words of reassurance.

Kieran sat back again, wiping her eyes. Again, she looked around nervously. "There’s no chance Naomi is going to come home?"

"Not for several hours. I promise. Now tell me what’s going on."

Kieran sighed with a great outpouring of air. "I didn’t want to discuss this with you until I could offer a solution with all the details worked out, Kathryn, but I know you need to hear what’s going on, so forgive me for the inconclusive aspect of what I’m about to say. Okay?"

Janeway nodded. "Go on."

"Have you considered, beyond the immediate future, what’s going to happen to Naomi if Voyager really takes sixty years to get to the Alpha Quadrant?"

Janeway smirked. "I was just trying to get her through puberty before I borrowed any more trouble," she joked. That seemed to help Kieran relax a little.

"Samantha apparently thought a lot about it. I guess I never really gave it much thought. But Kathryn, if there are no other kids on Voyager, Naomi will eventually have three options. Settle down on some Delta Quadrant planet with an alien culture, live her life without a mate, or marry someone who is decades older than she."

"But we could get home tomorrow, for all we know."

"Yes, we could," Kieran touched Kathryn’s hand, trying to convey that she had faith in her Captain. "But it would be negligent of us to base our decisions on that hope. We should plan as if that’s not going to happen. So, worst case scenario, those will be Naomi’s choices.

You and I both know she would never leave you and Seven, whether she’s twenty, or a hundred. I hate to think she’d have to be alone her whole life, never having a lover, or children. But the alternative is having what you and I and Seven and B'Elanna have, with someone old enough to be her grandparent, or at least, her parent."

Kieran held up her hand to forestall the reaction she expected from Janeway. "I know, I know, you’re old enough to be Seven’s mother, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m not saying it would be terrible for Naomi to be with someone that much older, but I am saying it would be unfortunate, at least in her case. She will know everyone on this ship, there won’t be anything mysterious, or new. Everyone on board will remember her as she is now—an incredibly precocious seven-year-old—and that would be detrimental to having an adult relationship with her. Even when she’s twenty, we’ll all remember when she was born, how she played with Flotter, how she really has been the daughter of the entire crew. That would make most people unwilling to get involved with her. And frankly, anyone who found it enticing, I’d probably have to kill."

"I see what you mean," Kathryn agreed with distaste. "I’d probably beat you to the draw and kill them myself."

"Kathryn, I know you have considered the ramifications of lifting the reproduction ban, but I really think we need to figure out a way to accommodate children on the ship. I know Voyager has limited resources, and attrition won’t be great enough to balance the Voyager ecosystem if we allow people to reproduce at will. But we have to give ourselves a future. I don’t know about you, but I’d like to think when I’m 80, I can stop wearing a uniform and worrying about duty. Children would give us a chance at future Counselors, Engineers, Tacticians. The alternative is allowing ourselves to become the good ship artificial hip," she was getting her humor back. "But more than that, it would give Naomi a future. The chance to have what you and I have with our partners."

Janeway finished her coffee, poured another cup, and regarded her ship’s counselor grimly. "No wonder you’ve been depressed," she let the weight of the matter hit her full force. "Right now, Voyager can sustain a crew compliment of 143. We’ve picked up a lot of extra passengers, and we haven’t lost many of our original crew, thankfully. We have 145 people on board, counting Samantha. We could juggle our resources somewhat, but I can’t imagine that we could accommodate everyone who wants to have children, and still be able to feed the crew. We’ve already hit some pretty stark situations along the way. We don’t have much leeway, and I can’t ask my people to give up the few luxuries they have so someone else can have a child."

"I know. Believe me, I’ve gone over it a thousand ways in my mind. None of the solutions are ideal. But they may be all we’ve got."

"If you have any proposals, I’d like to see them," Janeway squeezed her knee. "We have to start somewhere."

"I’ll get it all down in writing, and submit each contingency I’ve thought of. I think the first thing we have to do is assemble a project team to assess the various plans and determine, as best we can, the repercussions of each. Of course, Captain, you will need to be on that team, or delegate it to Chakotay and keep ultimate veto power. I think we have to have Tuvok, since he’s the most rational person aboard, and Ensign Vorik. Seven is a good choice, although objectivity would be a concern. Everybody knows she wants to have kids with you."

"Kieran, as usual, you amaze me with your attention to detail and orderly thought processes. Put together a rough draft of the team members, and we’ll go over it in a couple of days. The team can work on the various proposals, using your background work and expanding on it." Janeway finished her second cup of coffee, studying her subordinate officer. "That’s a start, Kieran. Why do I get the feeling it doesn’t give you the slightest peace of mind?"

"Captain?" she tried to evade the next line of questioning.

"Kieran, you are my best friend on this ship. I know you almost as well as I know Seven. There’s something more going on here. I’d like to try to help."

Kieran knew she couldn’t worm her way out of this. "Yes, and the ‘something more’ is the embarrassing part."

Janeway took her hand. "We know things about each other that only our spouses know about us. You don’t need to feel embarrassed with me. If you can tell me about your sex life, surely this can’t be any more delicate."

"Samantha told me Naomi is in love with me."

Janeway laughed. "Is that all? We’ve known forever that she has a crush on you—God, we’ve teased you mercilessly about it. What’s the big deal?"

"Samantha was adamant that this isn’t as simple or insignificant as we have all assumed. She says Naomi is very far beyond her years, and although she has no concept of a sexual relationship, she does have a rudimentary sense of what it means to ‘be with’ someone. Sam was convinced that if I take this as lightly as I would like to, I will do serious damage to Naomi."

Janeway frowned. "Oh, I can’t believe that, Kieran. She’s a little girl. Good Lord, two months ago she was chasing imaginary characters through the holodeck and sitting on our laps while we read her bedtime stories."

"When was the last time she crawled into your lap?"

"Um—hmm. I don’t remember. And she hasn’t played with Trevis and Flotter for quite some time. She spends a good deal of her time like I did at her age—working out mathematical equations, studying. And attending to her duties as my Bridge Assistant."

"And how old were you when you had your first glimmer of real love for someone?"

Janeway blanched. "Shit," she murmured as the realization hit her. "Not much older than she is." Then with appreciation she added "No wonder you’ve been avoiding her."

"Kathryn, you know I love Naomi, and I’d rather die than hurt her. But I don’t know how to handle this with her. I don’t want to reject her outright, but I don’t want her to confuse the love I do feel for her with the type I don’t feel for her."

"You’re pretty confident that her feelings are that serious?"

"They are to her. That’s what matters." She chuckled bitterly, saying "Sam told me Naomi described what she feels about me. She quoted Naomi as saying ‘Sometimes I look at Kieran, and I just hurt all over. I know she loves me. But somehow, I want something else from her. I just want her to love me like I love her’." Kieran closed her eyes wearily. "And she as much as told me she’s in love with me the other day. She was staying with me, Wednesday, and I was asleep. I guess she decided to take a nap with me, and when I woke up she was curled up in my arms.

"She asked me if I had told B’Elanna yet, and I asked her what she was talking about. She informed me that since she had saved my life, I should tell B’Elanna that she and I are in love, and that I’m not in love with B’Elanna any more," Kieran continued, her face as miserable as Kathryn had ever imagined it could be. "And before I could even try to explain that isn’t how I feel—she kissed me. And I don’t mean she pecked me on the cheek, Kathryn—she planted one on me."

"Oh my God," Kathryn breathed. "What did you do?"

"I panicked. I jumped out of bed and I know I just scared the hell out of her, the way I must have looked to her. She slapped her hand over her mouth and ran away. I haven’t seen her since. What the hell do I do? She’s so sensitive, Kathryn. I don’t want to ruin her whole impression of what it means to love someone. But I can’t let her think anything is different, just because she saved my life."

Kathryn hugged her friend then, knowing how hard it was to be the object of someone’s affection when you couldn’t return the sentiment. After all, that had been the gist of her relationship with Chakotay from the minute Seven of Nine had stepped off that Borg cube and into her life. She could intimately understand the fear Kieran felt, and the angst Naomi felt. Usually with Kieran, a wisecrack was better than a flowery speech for encouraging her. "Counselor," she said as she hugged her. "You know I think the world of you, but I’m not going to give you permission to date my daughter," she said flippantly.

"That is not funny," Kieran said flatly, though she started to laugh just a little. "God you are impossible, Kathryn. How does Seven put up with you?" she broke the hug and held the older woman at arms’ length, studying her face. Then grinning faintly she added, "The woman must be destined for sainthood. I guess we’ll have to start calling her Seven of Nun," she said dryly.

Kathryn let out a sharp bark of laughter. "It has a certain ring to it," she admitted, grinning at her friend with affection. "Where do you come up with this stuff?"

"Are you kidding? My best friend has the driest sense of humor I’ve ever encountered. I think it’s part of the job description for being Captain of a starship. I keep picking it up from her." Kieran smiled faintly then. "You know, B'Elanna and I have been giving everyone nicknames since as far back as I can remember. When she started teaching Seven how to use a Bat’leth in combat, for awhile we referred to Seven as ‘Seven of Nine-ja’. She just looked so adorable in that gi. Then we called her Samurai of Nine, for awhile."

"I shudder to think what you must call me," Janeway was laughing hard.

"We don’t go there," she smiled. "B'Elanna tried once—she made a crack about Captain Insaneway, or maybe it was your alter ego, Ima Painway. But I couldn’t laugh at you like that. Maybe I’m too Starfleet, or maybe you just command too much respect, but I couldn’t see the humor in her comments. I guess everybody has their sacred cow."

Janeway howled. "You’re calling me a cow?"

Kieran wasn’t laughing anymore. She let Janeway get a grip on her own mirth before she continued. "No. I’m calling you sacred," she returned with no hint of levity. She took the older woman’s hands. "Kathryn, when you all thought I was dead, I could hear what was being said around me. I heard the Doctor tell the computer to record my time of death. I heard B'Elanna begging me not to leave her. I heard Naomi screaming. I heard you saying regretfully that you hadn’t even told me how much you value my friendship or how much you love me." Kieran regarded blue-gray eyes that were suddenly soft and warm.

"I think it was, in part, the regret I heard in your voice that made me need to come back. I couldn’t stand the pain in any of your voices, but yours was something different. With B'Elanna and Naomi it was pure need, and the perceived loss of what I am to them. But your words weren’t about what I wouldn’t be able to give you anymore. They were about what you had wanted to give to me, but hadn’t. And that’s when I really felt like I wanted to come back. That’s when I looked up and saw Naomi’s hand reaching for me. If I hadn’t looked up, I’d have kept on sinking further away from the surface, and I would truly have died."

Kathryn smiled then. "You know, that’s twice you’ve damn near died, Lieutenant. Go for three and I’m going to put a formal reprimand in your service record," she teased.

Kieran straightened her posture. "Understood, Captain," she shot back.

I need to tell her, before we’re back to banter and jibes, Janeway thought to herself. She gathered her reserve. Emotional outpouring wasn’t her strong suit, although Seven had inspired vast improvement in that arena.

"Kieran," she began, "I do want you to know I value our friendship dearly. It took me by surprise to find someone I trust and cherish so much outside of my marriage. I thought letting Seven and Naomi behind my command mask was such a major feat, I’d never want or need to let anyone else into my life. But here you are. And I want to thank you for that," she said with a catch in her voice. "And I want you to know, you can count on me, too, the way I’ve always counted on you. I’m never too busy and you should never hesitate to approach me if you need something, personally or professionally," she wore the kindest expression as she opened herself. "I love you tremendously. You are family. For me, family is the bottom line. That’s as close as anyone gets."

Kieran had tears in her eyes. "I’m—honored," she said quietly. "I don’t think I’m up to your level of eloquence, but I do love you, Kathryn. And when I was unconscious, I wanted to tell you, more than anything, that I knew how you felt about me. I always knew. You never had to say a thing, because it shows in your actions. And that means so much to me. Thank you."

After a long silence, Kieran drank her cold coffee, and asked "So, do you have any words of wisdom about how I’m supposed to deal with Naomi?"

Kathryn groaned and fell back on the couch. "Please, just don’t handle it as badly as I did with Seven for so long," she pleaded. "You have to be honest, but not brutal—not that you ever would be. But you can’t keep avoiding her, Kieran. That’s just confusing her, and it hurts her, as well. And you can’t keep B'Elanna on the periphery of your life while you try to clean up this mess. She’s awfully worried, not just about you, but about your relationship. She needs to know that you still love her, and that whatever happened, it hasn’t changed your intentions toward her."

"I know. Samantha told me Naomi is jealous of B'Elanna, and that just threw me. I get so damned self-conscious, I’m afraid to touch her, afraid Naomi will suddenly be there, and that seeing how much I love B'Elanna will hurt her. So I’ve withdrawn from everyone. And frankly, I’m not sure B'Elanna will understand what this is like for me. I love her, Kathryn, but you know as well as I do that her first inclination would be to tell me Naomi’s just a kid, and she’ll get over any pain I cause her, and that’s just part of growing up. That may be correct, but if you ask me, that shouldn’t be part of growing up. It stinks. I’d like to protect Naomi from that kind of reality check."

Kathryn grinned. "Thank God Naomi is in love with you, then, and not B'Elanna,. I know you’ll handle it the best you can for all concerned. And if it were anyone else, I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night, I can guarantee you that."

"Well, if you’ll excuse me, Captain. I think I’d better go do some major sucking up to a certain Klingon, before I get my head handed to me on a Klingon pike. Hmmm. A shrink on a stick. Kieran-sicle. It has possibilities," she decided.

"Now who’s impossible, Counselor?" she jabbed.

_____________

Seven of Nine was busy with a data analysis of a nearby star system, documenting the mineral content of the three class L planets and two class M planets that orbited the gas giant. She kept her eyes on the console, but knew without looking up who had come to visit her.

"Naomi Wildman," she said in her Borg drone voice. "How may I assist you?"

"You know, Seven, one of these days, I’m going to figure out how to mask the rhythm of my stride, and you won’t know it’s me coming up behind you, Borg hearing or not."

"Unlikely," she replied dispassionately. "State the purpose of your visit."

"I was hoping we could talk," she admitted.

Seven keyed in a few commands and turned to her willowy daughter. "Very well. Is something wrong?" Seven immediately softened, hugging her.

"Not wrong. I just need to talk. If that’s okay?" she looked hopeful.

"Of course. Shall we take a walk in the arboretum?"

Naomi smiled. "That would be acceptable," she affirmed, knowing it would make Seven smile to hear her regress back to emulating the Borg.

Seven noted wistfully that Naomi was growing up so fast. She used to take Seven’s hand whenever they walked anywhere together. When had she stopped doing that? "May I ask you a question?"

"Of course, Seven." Naomi looked at her as if she’d asked a really stupid question already.

"Are you angry with me?"

"No, why would you think that?" Naomi forgot to be annoyed.

"I have noted that it has been forty-seven days since you asked me to read you a bedtime story. It has been sixty-two days since you sat on my lap. You no longer call me ‘Mom’ as you had started to do on occasion. And when we walk together, you no longer hold my hand. It has been eight days since you told me you love me. Have I erred in thinking your change in behavior means you are angry?"

"Yes, you have erred. I didn’t realize I was acting any different. I don’t feel any different about you, Seven—Mom," she corrected. "I hope I haven’t hurt your feelings."

"I have felt sad, but not hurt. Kathryn says that you are acting this way because you are growing up. I do miss the little girl that always wanted to cuddle, though."

Naomi took Seven’s hand. "Better?"

Seven smiled brightly. "Sufficient. Now what did you want to discuss?"

"I wanted to ask how you knew you were in love with Kathryn," she said matter-of-factly.

"May I ask the purpose of your inquiry?" Seven had a pretty good idea, already.

"No, I’d rather you didn’t," Naomi replied honestly, a trait she had learned from Seven herself.

Seven considered. "I suppose I realized it early on, though I did not know what it was, exactly. I knew that I wanted to be near her. I wanted to talk to her all the time. I wanted to prove my value to her as a crewmember. I could not stop thinking about her. And when we were together, my heart would speed up, my mouth would go dry, and all I wanted to do was hold her in my arms. It took me months to figure out that what I felt was love and attraction. I felt as if her opinion was the only opinion that mattered. The more we shared, the more I wanted to share with her. I wanted her attention, her respect, and eventually, I realized I wanted to be intimate with her." Seven watched Naomi’s face for her reaction. "However, I must point out, my experience is undoubtedly unusual, since I was raised Borg. I imagine other people have less trouble identifying what they feel than do I."

Naomi turned the words over in her mind. "What do you mean when you say you wanted to be intimate with her?"

Seven hesitated. She wasn’t sure if she should be having this conversation alone with Naomi, without Kathryn to provide input. "Intimacy is complicated," she managed. "It is partly a desire to be close, emotionally. It is partly a desire to be close physically. It is also a desire to share sexual pleasure with each other. Do you know what that is?"

"I think so. It’s something very private, I know that. I think it’s when you and Kathryn kiss each other. And I suspect it has something to do with the sounds I hear sometimes at night, when you and Kathryn are in bed."

Seven felt her cheeks flush bright red. "You are very perceptive," Seven complimented her, making a mental note to put additional sound proofing in their quarters.

"But I don’t understand. How do you become intimate with someone you love?"

Seven swallowed hard. She was definitely in over her head on this one. "I can only tell you that it happens. With Kathryn, I was just overcome with love and affection for her, and I kissed her. The rest just happened from there."

Naomi quirked an eyebrow. "I have kissed you before, but it isn’t the same thing, is it?"

"No. I feel I am not explaining this properly. Let me try another tactic," Seven said with consternation. "There are different types of intimacy. What I have with you is friendship, and a family bond. I have great affection for you, and you are very important to me. And yes, I have kissed you. But it is not the same as the way I kiss Kathryn. When I kiss Kathryn, it is to make her feel a particular way, a way neither of us feels with anyone else but each other. It is a means of giving myself to her that I would never employ with anyone else." Exasperated with herself and the inefficiency of human language, Seven finally conceded. "This conversation we are having is one we should share with Kathryn. Is that acceptable?"

"Yes. Shall we call her?"

"Perhaps your questions could wait until dinner tonight?"

Naomi was visibly disappointed, but agreed.

Seven of Nine returned to Astrometrics, where she sent a work order to maintenance to soundproof Naomi’s room, since the master bedroom was already as soundproof as they could make it. Then she sent Kathryn a short note.

My love:

Naomi wants to discuss the birds and the bees. I fear I have muddied the waters in my feeble attempts to explain. I promised her we could discuss it at dinner. Please be prepared. I would like to explain the mechanics of sexuality, without sounding clinical, and the emotional aspects without confusing her. I hope you are more adept at this type of parenting than I appear to be.

I love you. We will prevail.

Seven

P.S. You will be receiving a requisition for soundproofing for Naomi’s room. Please approve it. We have not been as discreet as we hoped, and she is hearing things at night.

 

Kathryn read the note and groaned. If she had had any doubts about the nature of Naomi’s feelings for Kieran, she had no illusions about them now. This day was just getting better and better. She prayed for a crisis that would put them at red alert. That she was equipped for. She wished that damned ‘entity’ would yank her to the purple ocean. She had a bone to pick with Samantha Wildman for getting herself blown to bits before she could have ‘the talk’ with Naomi.

_________________

B'Elanna Torres left work, feeling at loose ends. Kieran had been sulking in her quarters for days, and had barely spoken to her. B'Elanna knew that Kieran’s ordeal with ‘the entity’ had profoundly disrupted their lives, but she had yet to hear any explanation from her lover. She leaned wearily against the turbo lift wall, thinking she might just invite Tom and Harry to Sandrine’s and challenge them to a drinking match. A good old-fashioned bender might be just the thing. That plan changed the instant she walked into her quarters.

The lights were dim, and the table was set with formal china. A candelabra served as the centerpiece of the setting, surrounded by a silver bowl containing a large serving of qagh which was squirming invitingly, and a bottle of genuine, not replicated, blood wine that was chilling in a bucket of ice. B'Elanna’s favorite Klingon composer’s music was playing softly in the background. She smiled at the attention to detail. Kieran walked out of the ensuite, just then, dressed like a waiter or a bell boy at a hotel, B'Elanna wasn’t sure which.

"Madam," she greeted her formally with a bow. "Your bath awaits you. Please, come this way."

B'Elanna decided to play along. "Thank you sir, I believe I will." The tub was surrounded by shimmering candles, which provided the only light. Mountains of bubbles floated in the tub, which steamed the fixtures and the mirror.

"When Madam is finished, dinner will be served." Kieran was deadpanning this whole scenario.

B'Elanna undressed, smiling to herself. This was going to be one hell of an apology, she could tell. And she needed it. She slid down into the tub with a grateful sigh. A good soak would do a lot for her aching body. She'd spent the better part of Alpha shift crawling on her hands and knees to fix floor level circuitry, and she was stiff. She was about to drift off to sleep, when Kieran came back in, dressed like an attendant at a country club.

"I’ll be your masseuse, this evening," she politely advised the grinning Klingon. She handed B'Elanna a glass of blood wine. "Please, enjoy," she encouraged her, kneeling on the floor behind the tub, pouring an ample amount of oil into her generous hands and rubbing them vigorously to warm the oil. She started with B'Elanna’s shoulders and neck, releasing the tension that B'Elanna always seemed to carry there in abundance. She worked on the muscular arms, easing the stiffness from the elbows, and worked her way down B'Elanna’s back. She moved to the front of the tub, kneeling again, and started on B'Elanna’s feet, worked her way up the calves, and flexed and kneaded the hamstrings and quads to get the ache out of her knees. "Better?" she asked softly. B'Elanna nodded, too relaxed to form coherent words. "Soak then. Dinner will be served shortly."

B'Elanna eventually got out of the cooling water, dried herself on a huge bath sheet that Kieran had apparently replicated for the occasion, and wrapped herself in the silk bathrobe Kieran had given her for her last birthday. She exited the ensuite, where Kieran was dressed in a satin and silk tuxedo, looking especially dapper. She held out a rose to B'Elanna, who took it smiling. "Hello, BangwIj," she greeted her. "Are you hungry?"

B'Elanna nodded mutely. Kieran gathered her into her arms, then, kissing her forcefully, biting her bottom lip, feeling the heat rise in the amorous Klingon’s body. B'Elanna tried unsuccessfully to suppress a moan, not quite trusting that Kieran was herself again, but desire triumphed over reason. Dinner forgotten, they ended up in the bedroom. B'Elanna was stripping Kieran’s clothes off her, desperate to confirm that their relationship was still intact. Kieran allowed the aggression, knowing B'Elanna was feeling extremely vulnerable and not a little insecure. She had come prepared to set things straight, whatever it took, and she was relatively certain it would involve some bloodlust and new scars. When she was totally naked before her lover, she undid the belt on B'Elanna’s robe, and with a whisper soft motion, she brushed the robe from B'Elanna’s perfect shoulders, letting it puddle around her feet. She drank in the sight of the woman she had claimed so long ago, the soft contour of hip and bone, the firmness of her breasts, the perfection of her arms and legs, her washboard stomach. "God I love to look at you," she murmured, throat tight with love. She grasped B'Elanna’s wrist, bringing the Klingon’s palm to her face, and with a faint growl, she breathed in the scent of her lover’s pheremones emanating from her palm and the underside of her forearm. She traced the length of B'Elanna’s arm, drawing the scent into her as Klingon’s had done for eons as part of their mating ritual, teasing, taunting, inciting B'Elanna to act.

B'Elanna growled in the back of her throat, squeezing Kieran’s hand in turn, pressing Kieran’s own fingernails so powerfully they lacerated her palm. The blood ran dark and rich down her arm as B'Elanna sniffed it, the scent of it driving her into a barely controlled blood lust. Kieran snatched B'Elanna’s wrist again, bending it back roughly, pressing B'Elanna’s fingernails into her own palm, where the blood from each woman mingled together. Kieran’s eyes were harsh as she threw her head back and started to half shout, half howl the Klingon Oath that would bind their destinies as a mated couple, and which signified the intent to marry. Kieran had spent months trying to memorize the oath, the exact vocalizations and inflections, and her efforts were rewarded when B'Elanna returned the Oath with equal fervor.

The words spoken, Kieran sank her teeth into B'Elanna’s shoulder, drawing blood again. "I claim you," she growled. "You are mine."

B'Elanna arched into the sensation of teeth piercing flesh, the blood lust raging in her. She reciprocated by biting the base of Kieran’s throat, marking her for the second time in their relationship. "You are mine!" she cried out. "I claim you." She shoved Kieran back on the bed roughly, letting the bloodlust take her control away. Kieran endured everything B'Elanna delivered, not all of it pleasurable, but necessary, she knew. She had injured B'Elanna deeply with her recent behavior, and she wasn’t adverse to offering her body as a means of supplication. It was the honorable thing to do.

Kieran served dinner afterward, trying to hide that she was in a bit of pain from their joining, and succeeding fairly well. B'Elanna was sincerely impressed that her lover could swallow squirming qagh without a trace of revulsion. Not many humans had been able to do that, in her experience.

"Where did you ever find blood wine?" B'Elanna asked, shoveling qagh into her mouth before it could wiggle away.

"It was a gift. Deanna Troi was pretty close to Worf, and he kept giving her bottles of blood wine. She hated the stuff, but didn’t want to hurt his feelings. So she gave it me. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion."

B'Elanna frowned. "Was this a special occasion?"

"It was a special apology," Kieran saluted her with the glass of wine. "I know I’ve been acting like a ptaQ, and I am very sorry. I love you with all my heart. I’m sorry if you started to doubt that."

"You did make me wonder. I was trying to be patient, but I don’t like being closed out. And not being taken to your bed for a couple of weeks had me worried that you had changed your mind about us. But I kept telling myself that wasn’t true, that you’d have said so, if it were the case. I tried to believe it was something about the experience with Sam Wildman that was making you push me away. Can you talk about it? Did I do something wrong?"

"It wasn’t you, 'Lanna. It was a lot of things, but all of them stem from that little trip to the Twilight Zone with Sam."

B'Elanna finished her meal with a second glass of wine. "Will you talk to me about it now?"

Kieran nodded. "I’m still not sure if I can make you understand why it’s so disconcerting to me, but I at least owe you the attempt," she agreed, stretching out on the couch, where B'Elanna joined her.

They kissed endlessly then, gently, sweetly, without any of the fear or need they’d felt earlier. B'Elanna lay in Kieran’s arms, listening to the methodical click of her artificial heart. "Do you forgive me, 'Lanna? I love you so much, I can’t stand it that I hurt you."

"Of course I forgive you. I love you, Kieran, I could never stay mad. But what was going on with you?"

Kieran sighed. "Samantha wanted an audience with me because she felt compelled to warn me that Naomi is in love with me. At first, I tried to argue with her. I told her Naomi is too young to feel that way, and it was just a silly crush. But Sam convinced me that Naomi really has genuine feelings for me, at least to the extent that she comprehends being in love. And I was terrified. God, the last thing I want to do is break her heart.

"Sam told me she’s jealous of you. So of course, I became self conscious about being insensitive to Naomi by being with you. And I got scared because I knew I was hurting you, but didn’t know what to do about it, at least until I can talk to Naomi and make her understand that I do love her, but not like I love you, and that both kinds of love are just as important. I was ready to deliver that pretty little speech, until Naomi asked me if I had told you yet that she and I are in love, and that I don’t love you anymore. And before I could correct her, she kissed me."

B'Elanna snuggled into Kieran. "Oh sweetheart, why didn’t you talk to me? I could have helped you, we would have been able to figure it out. I love Naomi, too, and I wouldn’t want to do anything to hurt her. Kahless knows, she’s been through enough."

"I was afraid you’d think I was being ridiculous. I mean, she is only seven, so I could see why you might think that."

B'Elanna sat up. "Am I that hard hearted? I hope you don’t think I could be that cold."

Kieran knew from the tone of B’Elanna’s voice they were dangerously close to an argument. "I don’t think you’re cold or hard hearted, B'Elanna. Sometimes you can be a little impatient. I didn’t think you’d appreciate my telling you I didn’t feel comfortable making love with you because it might hurt Naomi’s feelings."

"Then why did you?" her voice was getting tight.

"Why did I what?"

"Why did you make love with me if you weren’t comfortable with it?"

"I’m not uncomfortable now, BangwIj. I just needed to work through my reaction to what Sam said. I still don’t know what I’m going to say to Naomi, though." She tightened her grip around her lover, knowing B'Elanna was miffed. "Please don’t be mad at me. I’m just so confused. How do you tell a kid who adores you that that’s just too bad, you’ll have to get over it? I’ve had my heart broken. I know what that’s like. I want to protect her, if I can."

B'Elanna relinquished her anger gradually. "It’s an admirable goal. It may not be possible, though.""

"I know. And that’s why I’m so upset." She rested her cheek on B'Elanna’s head, despondent again. "I know I have to do something soon, though. This is eating at me, and my avoiding Naomi is confusing her. I could really use your support. Any advice?"

B'Elanna kissed her hand. "I’ll sleep on it—think it over. If I come up with anything, I’ll let you know."

Kieran shifted their bodies, pulling B'Elanna’s face toward her own. "What makes you think you’re going to get any sleep?" she said in her deepest voice. She kissed her passionately, letting her hands wander up her spine, feeling her immediate arousal. She had neglected this beautiful woman shamefully, and now she had to make it up to her.

But B'Elanna wanted to be the one to apologize now. She removed Kieran’s night shirt, lavishing attention on her breasts in the way that drove Kieran mad with desire, softly licking the pebbled flesh in slow circles before capturing the hardened nub, then holding it between her teeth, fluttering the tip of her tongue over it. She could almost make Kieran come, just from that. Kieran was writhing beneath her, pressing her hips up against B'Elanna’s pelvis, her breath coming in short gasps and whimpers. B'Elanna raised herself slighty, slipping her hand under the leg of Kieran’s boxer shorts, seeking wetness. She fondled her in time with the dancing of her tongue on Kieran’s aching nipple, and Kieran was coming in waves. "Oh, 'Lanna," she cried out, hips lifting off the couch as she shuddered from the bliss of it.

"It’s alright, love, I’m right here," B'Elanna held her tightly, easing her through the vulnerability of her climax. "I love you, Kieran. Let’s not repeat this mistake again."

"Agreed," Kieran panted, clinging to her lover.

B'Elanna reached for her again, intending to slip her fingers inside Kieran’s heat. Kieran flinched and jerked away. "What?" B'Elanna noted with some concern that Kieran’s face registered pain.

"It’s nothing, I just—"

B'Elanna looked at her hand. It was covered with blood. "You’re not due for your period," she clicked off the mental calculations, confused. Realization spread across her features. "Oh Kahless’ balls on a bat’leth, I did this to you, didn’t I?

"It’s okay, B'Elanna, I’m just a little tender there right now."

B'Elanna jumped up. "You are not okay, Kieran. You’re bleeding in a place I never meant to draw blood. We have to take you to sickbay."

"And let hollowdick smirk at me about my Klingon lover’s ‘enthusiasm’? Not on your life."

"Okay. But will you let me at least get a dermal regenerator from him? Please?" B'Elanna felt less than two inches tall. She had hurt the one person she loved most in the world, after she had denounced Kieran’s first Klingon lover for injuring Kieran with careless lack of control. She had never inadvertently drawn blood during sex. She was mortified at her own behavior.

"Could you tell him something like I cut my hand, or stepped on glass? I don’t want him to know."

"Of course. I’ll tell him you stepped on glass, and couldn’t walk to sickbay, but that it wasn’t serious enough to justify a site to site transport."

Kieran smiled. "Remind me never to play poker with you," she kidded her.

___________

Seven of Nine had admirably waded through the morass of details associated with reproduction, in a manner that Naomi understood perfectly. Kathryn was left with the more nebulous task of explaining how sex and love were interrelated. Naomi wasn’t going to give them any slack when they answered her questions.

"So you’re telling me that you and Kathryn can’t produce a baby without scientific intervention, but that if one of you copulated with Harry Kim, you could produce a baby all by yourselves?" Naomi was flabbergasted. "You could pick any man, and he could father a child with you, without any test tubes or medical procedures?"

"That is almost correct," Seven amended. "There are human males who cannot produce offspring without assistance, although it is rare."

"That just sounds so—I don’t know, so unsanitary. I can’t imagine having someone fertilize an egg inside my body. I thought everybody did it in a test tube." She thought about it, and a look of pure horror struck her. "I probably got here without a test tube," she said with utter distaste.

"Yes you were conceived without test tubes. Your mother and father copulated to create you," Seven affirmed.

"That is so disgusting," Naomi opined.

Kathryn tried to hide her amusement behind her cup of coffee. She’d thought the same thing when she’d realized that her parents had created her the same way. She’d had the creeps, as Naomi called them, for weeks afterward. She hoped that the repellant image in Naomi’s mind would forestall any further questions. She didn’t harbor that hope for long.

"So if women can love each other, can they copulate, too?"

"In a manner of speaking," Seven hesitated. "It is non-reproductive, of course. And in the strict sense of the word, it is not actual copulation. However, two partners of the same gender can still share sexual pleasure."

"Still share? Are you telling me that what men do to women feels good?" she was incredulous. "I would think it would hurt terribly."

Seven shrugged and looked at Kathryn. "I believe this is where you come in, my love."

Kathryn glared at her wife. "Some women enjoy it very much, Naomi. What feels good to one person might not feel good to another, though. It’s a matter of personal preference."

"How do you find out what you—enjoy?" she asked innocently.

"When you love someone so much that you trust them to help you find out, then you can learn what you like. But it is very important that you trust your partner. Sharing sexual intimacy can be very complicated, and you have to have a good foundation with the person before attempting it."

"What sort of foundation?" Naomi was starting to grasp it a bit better.

"Good communication for starters. Seven and I can tell each other anything. Also, as I said, trust. I know Seven’s intention is pure, and that she would never knowingly hurt me. I trust her completely. It helps if you have a lot of common interests you can share. And there’s an inexplicable something that has to be there. You could call it chemistry, or attraction. You have to be drawn to the person in ways you aren’t drawn to just anyone. You have to care about their well being, as well as your own. And you have to sense they care about your well being," Kathryn explained. "Those are all elements of a good foundation."

"So if you have those things with someone, then you should share sexual intimacy with them?"

"Should isn’t a word I’d use in this case. If you have all the things we discussed, then sexual intimacy is an option. But it has to be a mutual decision. But both people have to want to take that risk."

"Why is it a risk?" Naomi quirked an eyebrow.

"Sharing that part of yourself with a partner makes you very vulnerable. By allowing a person to share that with you, you give them tremendous power over you, physically and emotionally. Do you remember when B'Elanna stopped dating Tom?" Naomi nodded. "It made Tom very sad and angry. B'Elanna had the power to hurt him, and she did hurt him, although it wasn’t intentional."

"But why would she love Tom, and then stop loving Tom?"

Kathryn took her daughter’s hand. "In an ideal situation, when two people are really meant to be together, they don’t stop loving each other, ever."

"So Tom and B'Elanna weren’t meant to be together. Do you think B'Elanna and Kieran are meant to be together?"

Oh shit, there’s the $64 question.

"What I think doesn’t matter. They think they are meant to be together. Seven and I think we were meant to be together. That is why couples marry, or at least one of the reasons."

"Can you love two people at the same time?" Naomi was hopeful.

"Some people seem to be able to. I’m not one of them, however. For me, part of trusting my partner means that we agree to love only each other in that way. We set boundaries with the people outside our relationship, so that those feelings don’t develop anywhere else. It’s a conscious choice we make every day to be faithful to each other."

Naomi nodded her head thoughtfully. "That’s what you meant in your wedding vows when you said you were ‘forsaking all others for the fidelity of marriage’. I didn’t know what it meant back then."

"That’s exactly right," Kathryn smiled fondly at her exceptionally insightful daughter.

"But don’t you still meet people that you’re attracted to besides Seven?"

"Yes. Marriage doesn’t stop your natural reactions. But marriage gives you a context for dealing with them. When I’m attracted to someone other than Seven, I know I won’t act on it or dwell on it, because that would be a violation of the promises I made to her and to myself when we married each other. That’s why I say it’s a conscious choice we make every day to be faithful to each other. I can’t be sexually intimate with someone who isn’t willing to make that commitment. So I chose a partner who agrees that’s how it should be."

"So as long as people aren’t married, they are free to pursue sexual intimacy with anyone they have a foundation with?"

"No, I didn’t mean to imply that. Many people don’t ever get married, but they have committed relationships. Marriage is just one way of expressing that commitment. There are more ways than you can imagine. The fundamental thing is whether or not a person has made such a commitment, in whatever form it takes." Kathryn saw this as her opportunity to break the bad news. "Take Kieran and B'Elanna for an example. They aren’t married yet, but they are very commited to each other, or they wouldn’t have become engaged."

Naomi looked shocked. "Do they—share sexual intimacy?"

Kathryn nodded sympathetically. "Yes. They have a commitment to share that only with each other. That’s one of the things you do when you’re in love—you share that intimacy with your partner. You want to be intimate in ways you won’t share with anyone else. You care about your partner’s sexual needs, and you try to meet them."

"People need sex?" Naomi was truly puzzled. "Don’t you mean they want it?"

"I think we need it. Sometimes, we wish we didn’t, but deep down, I truly believe it is a need, not just something we’d like to have. I don’t think it becomes a need until you reach puberty, so I don’t want you to think there’s something wrong with you just because you don’t currently need or want it. Children aren’t supposed to develop that need until much later. During puberty, your body will go through all sorts of physical, chemical, electrical, and psychological changes, and you’ll start to become aware of certain sexual urges. The closer you get to being an adult, the stronger those urges will become. At some point, you will begin to recognize those urges as something you need to satisfy."

Naomi’s face lit up. "Is that what the Vulcans call pon farr? Does Tuvok become an adult every seven years?"

"Almost. Pon farr is specific to the Vulcan species, and it does entail strong sexual urges, but Tuvok doesn’t become an adult over and over again. His body just goes through some species specific changes, and he must mate, or die."

"Do humans die if they can’t fulfill their sexual urges?"

"Not that I know of, but it can certainly feel like you’re going to die if you can’t fulfill them," Janeway noted wryly.

"Why do you suppose we develop a need for sex? I mean, what purpose would that sort of need serve? If it feels good, I can understand why we’d want it, but needing it seems illogical," Naomi asked, her thought processes sounding very scientific.

"There are many theories about that, Naomi," Seven chimed in. "A scientist name Charles Darwin theorized that survival of the species is the primary drive in all organisms. For humanoid species, that would mean, at the simplest level, reproduction. Sexual need was once considered a sort of biological guarantee that a species would effectively reproduce. Scientists today seem to think that our continued need is a holdover from our evolutionary process."

"This topic is—fascinating. Why haven’t you ever told me any of this before?" Naomi rested her chin in her hand, pondering what her mothers had tried to explain. "Can we talk about this again if I have more questions?"

Kathryn smiled with amusement. "I imagine we’ll talk about it several more times, at least."

"That would be acceptable."

_____________________

Neogotiations on Ordan had come to a close, and Voyager was preparing to leave orbit. Janeway called a meeting of the senior staff prior to departure.

"I wanted to ask if anyone else has reported contact with Samantha Wildman—any of your direct reports? Have any of you had contact with her?"

Harry Kim glanced around the room. "If you’re asking if I’ve been spirited away to the ‘basement’ as Naomi called it, no. But I’ve visited Samantha in the stasis ward," he said, bemused.

The assembled officers murmured assent. It seemed everyone in the room had been to pay their respects to their fallen comrade, now that they knew she could hear them talking. Janeway smiled, proud of the people she had the privilege to command. "I’m glad Samantha hasn’t been lonely," she mentioned. "But I meant to ask if anyone else has been taken to the basement for a chat."

No one had apparently had contact with the entity since Kieran’s experience.

"It would appear then, that Sam has had her say, and we should honor her request to disconnect life support." Janeway hesitated, thinking there would be a very vocal and heated argument over the implications of letting Samantha die. "Mr. Neelix? Do you have anything to say?"

Neelix shook his head. "I know Counselor Thompson and Naomi were in contact with Samantha. The message she sent me is all the proof I need, now that I’ve had the chance to read Kieran and Naomi’s reports. However, Naomi was clear about one thing. Samantha only wanted to die if Naomi could bear for her to die."

Kieran nodded emphatically. "Naomi should be here for this discussion."

Janeway glanced around the table. "It was my intent to include her, but I wanted to let you all weigh in with your opinions before hailing her. I thought there’d be more objections, and I didn’t want her to listen to us bicker. So before I summon her, are we all in agreement that Sam’s wishes should be honored?" No one said a word. "I’m going to take your silence as agreement, unless you state otherwise," she advised them. "Very well," she slapped her comm badge. "Bridge Assistant Wildman, report to conference room One."

"On my way, Captain," came the reply.

___________________

Naomi was making a concerted effort to remember that Seven and Kathryn missed her childish behavior. She crawled into Seven’s lap, wrapping her arms around the Borg’s neck and snuggling into her. Seven kissed her hair, smiling. "Hi sweetie," she said. "Have I told you today that I love you?"

"Nope. Have I told you?" she grinned up at her.

"You have not," Seven squeezed her tightly. "How are you feeling about this decision to let your mother go, Naomi?"

"It’s not easy. I want to do what is best for her, and for me. I know it’s the right thing to do. But it hurts to know it means there’s no chance of getting her back. I guess I figured someday the Doctor would be able to cure her, and I’d have her back. But it’s confusing to hope that, because if she came back, I couldn’t live with you and Kathryn anymore, and that would hurt too. Does that make sense?"

"Complete sense. Kathryn and I have discussed it, and we have similar feelings. We love you so much, and cannot imagine our lives without you," she kissed her temple. "Yet we always hoped you would be able to get your mother back, even though it would hurt us profoundly to lose you."

Naomi sighed with exasperation. "Is loving people always so complicated?"

"Probably," Seven allowed. "But it has its moments," she teased. "Like now. I would gladly endure the complications to have this moment of perfection with you."

Naomi hugged her. "Perfection? That’s a pretty serious assessment coming from a former drone. "

"Yes, but it is accurate in my estimation. I am perfectly content, at peace, and happy, because you are here, and I am with you. And because I am secure in knowing that no matter what, we love each other."

"You are so human, Seven," Naomi said with awe.

"Thank you—I think," she quipped.

"No, I mean it. People used to say you were this cold, unfeeling Borg. They called you ‘the Ice Princess’ or ‘Seven of Numb’. But you’ve changed so much, and everyone who used to say those things feels pretty terrible for being mean. To me, you were never cold or aloof, and I thought they were all blind, or something. I’m glad they see the real you, too."

Seven smiled at her warmly. "I am glad that you always saw the real me. You and Kathryn always believed in me. That made it possible for me to see what I might become one day."

Naomi lay her head against the older woman’s ample chest. "Seven?" she whispered. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"You may tell me anything, Naomi. Your secrets are safe with me," Seven stroked her strawberry blond hair.

"I think I’m in love with Kieran," she said very softly. "And it doesn’t feel very good."

Seven felt her heart lurch in her chest. "Oh, sweetie, I know you are. I am so sorry it is hurting you."

"You know?" she asked incredulously. "Am I that obvious?" she asked with dread.

"Only to the people who love you."

"Kieran knows. I thought she feels the same but I was wrong, and now she isn’t even my friend anymore. Why can’t she love me, Seven?"

"I believe Kieran is very sensitive to your feelings and your moods. I imagine she is aware that your feelings for her are very confusing to you. I know she would never intentionally hurt you, or make you sad. But she also loves B’Elanna. It would be inappropriate if Kieran allowed herself to feel the way you feel for her. Do you understand that?" she asked gently.

"Because of B’Elanna, you mean."

"No. Even if B’Elanna and Kieran were not in love, it would be inappropriate for Kieran to feel for you what you feel for her. Adults are not supposed to permit themselves to feel that way about children."

"Why not?"

"First, there are laws prohibiting sexual intimacy with children. Second, it is a cultural taboo for most known humanoid species—that is, it is considered wrong to feel that way about a child. Technicalities aside, though, the crux of the issue is that children are emotionally malleable. They put greater trust in adults than their peers. It is widely accepted that while you may feel ‘in love’ with Kieran, you are not emotionally mature enough to deal with a relationship that entails sexual intimacy. Therefore, it would be inappropriate for Kieran to return your feelings."

"I’m not certain I understand."

"You admire Kieran, correct?" Naomi nodded. "And you would not want to do anything to disappoint her, agreed?"

"Yes."

"If she asked you to do something you did not really want to do, would you do it anyway?" Seven kissed her temple again.

"I might, if it were really important to her," Naomi admitted.

"Precisely. Do you remember when Kathryn spoke of how both people need to trust each other, and have a foundation together, for intimacy? And that we pointed out that it must be mutual?"

"I see," Naomi concluded. "Because I can be influenced by adults, possibly to do things I don’t really want to do, there is no way to really be sure it is mutual."

Seven rewarded her deductive logic with a smile. "That is correct. The issue is consent, Naomi, and the line between true consent and coercion. It is accepted as fact in most cultures that children cannot truly give consent, and that if an adult indulges in sexual intimacy with a child, there is, by definition, coercion involved."

"Oh. At what age does it become acceptable for two people to be intimate? Kathryn is a lot older than you," she noted wisely.

"Yes, she is. The difference in age is less important than the difference in experience and maturity. But in terms of linear progression—you remember that term from algebra? Good. Then in terms of linear progression, children are usually not considered able to consent until they have reached puberty, at the very least. Humans tend to accord children with adult rights and responsibilities progressively as they age. The database indicates that humans cannot legally marry until they are 20. However, the laws are more lenient regarding sexual intimacy. It is considered legal for any person over the age of 18 to engage in sexual intimacy with any partner who is also over the age of 18."

Naomi frowned. "That seems pretty arbitrary. Not everybody is as mature as the other people their age. I mean, Harry is younger than Tom, but Tom acts like he’s the younger of the two."

"It is arbitrary, I admit. But as a guideline, it is generally useful to set such limits on behavior. You do understand Naomi, that those rules are there to protect you?"

"I think so. I think I understand why Kieran is avoiding me, now, too."

Seven relaxed as a wave of relief washed over her. Finally, this would be resolved. "Yes, I think you can understand it now. I am sure you know that Kieran loves you dearly, but only in the most appropriate ways. She is no doubt avoiding you because she thinks you don’t understand why she can’t return your feelings, and she knows you have been hurting because of your feelings for her. I know she is not happy to be away from you. She misses you. She asks about you all the time. But she is trying to do what is best for you."

"Is she mad at me for putting her in this position?" Naomi asked meekly.

"Unlikely. But she is very sad that the situation hurts you. So sad, in fact, that she would not even talk to B’Elanna or Kathryn or I about it, until recently. She finally talked to Kathryn about it, but even talking about it made her cry."

"Kieran—cried?" Naomi was clearly shocked. "She loves me that much, that hurting my feelings made her cry?"

"Yes, she does. She values your friendship, but she is trying to protect you. In fact, she has indicated that she is not comfortable taking the vacation we all planned together, unless she can work this out with you," Seven said pointedly.

"But she hasn’t even tried to talk to me about it," she protested.

"I think," Seven said in her most reasonable tone, "she does not know where to begin. She is so afraid of damaging you, she cannot decide how to open the discussion."

"I think I’d better do something about this, then," Naomi decided.

Kathryn had been working on a personnel update in Seven’s old room when she’d been drawn into the conversation between her family members. She was inordinately proud of Seven for handling the difficult issue so aptly. She quickly sent a message to Kieran.

Counselor:

Naomi is going to be approaching you soon to discuss the ‘situation’. Please agree to speak with her. I think you will be glad you did.

Cpt. Ima Painway, primary adjunct of dominatrix Seven of Nun

_______________________

 

Kieran Thompson glanced over her comm account, checking her messages. She laughed at Janeway’s attempt to humor her, but she was not looking forward to talking to Naomi. Then she found a second message.

Kieran:

I think we need to talk. I checked our schedules and we are both free this afternoon at 1400 hours. I will be in the arboretum by the the fountain. If you don’t show up, I won’t bother you again. I’m sorry for making things difficult for you.

Your friend,

Naomi Wildman

Kieran sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, a gesture she no doubt picked up from Kathryn. She checked the chronometer. She had twenty minutes to figure out what she was going to say.

 

______________________

Naomi Wildman sat in the grass by the fountain, nervously waiting for Kieran to meet her. She was half afraid Kieran wouldn’t come at all, but if Seven was as perceptive as Naomi believed her to be, Kieran wanted to work things out. Naomi lay her head on her arms, which she propped up on her knees. She was bone tired, and fairly certain she never wanted to be an adult, if things were going to be so complicated and painful. A large shadow blocked the path of light above her, and she looked up to find Kieran hovering over her.

"Hi," she said shyly, addressing the towering Counselor.

"Hi," Kieran returned, sitting down beside her.

Naomi was dismayed to see how tired Kieran looked, how pale and sallow. "I’m so sorry," she blurted out, tears puddling in her eyes. "Please don’t stop being my friend. I didn’t mean to make a mess of everything. You look so awful," she candidly pointed out.

Kieran gave her a half-hearted grin. "Thanks. I feel awful, too."

"I’m sorry. Really sorry. I didn’t know about—about being in love and stuff, or commitments, or intimacy. I didn’t know what I wanted was wrong. I didn’t know you were sharing—sexual intimacy with B’Elanna. Honest. I didn’t even know what sexual intimacy was until Kathryn and Seven explained it. I mean, I love you, and everything but I don’t want to do anything like that with anybody for a long, long time, maybe not ever. So please, can we just be friends? I hate not being able to talk to you, and I don’t want B’Elanna to think I don’t respect what you have together, and I want us all to go on vacation together, and not have you be uncomfortable around me…" the words tumbled out in a cascade of fear and pain, and the tears followed.

"Hey," Kieran hugged her then, "it’s okay, slow down," she held her close, kissing her hair. "I’m the one who is sorry, Naomi. I’m supposed to be the adult, here, not to mention the ship’s Counselor, and I have failed miserably at being each. I should have tried to talk to you to set things right, or at least to tell you I hadn’t stopped caring about you."

Naomi had her arms around Kieran’s neck, clinging to her. "I just want things to be the way they were, before Mommy visited us. Let’s just go back, okay?"

Kieran patted her back. "We can’t go back, but we can start over. I’d like very much to do that. Can you forgive me for being so inept at everything?"

Naomi looked up at her with red, blurry eyes. "You are not inept. Seven told me you’ve been avoiding me because you love me, and want to protect me from being hurt. That’s not inept, that’s just love." She was not about to let Kieran deprecate herself. "So there’s nothing to forgive."

"If you say so," Kieran agreed.

"Can you forgive me for being so stupid?" Naomi was holding her breath.

Kieran hugged her again. "I want you to understand something. You are not stupid. You just hadn’t learned yet about intimacy and what’s proper. That is not your fault. And you don’t have to apologize for your feelings. I’m flattered. I fell in love with B’Elanna a long time ago, before I even knew you very well. I never meant for my love for B’Elanna to hurt you," she was crying now, too. "I know that doesn’t help to hear that, but it’s true. I would never hurt you intentionally."

"It’s okay," Naomi wiped Kieran’s tears away with tiny fingers. "I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. It wasn’t anything you said or did. It was just me, hurting myself, because I didn’t know all the facts, and was convinced I was missing something. I’m not missing anything, Kieran. I don’t know what I thought I wanted, but it’s not what my Moms described to me, that’s for sure."

Kieran laughed at that. "What did you think about all that stuff they told you?"

"Honestly? I think it sounds—messy, and kind of disgusting. I’m not sure I see why anyone would want to do that. Especially with a male. That just gives me the creeps," she giggled. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Did B’Elanna really do that with Tom?"

Kieran laughed with her then. "I’ve never asked her," she admitted. "I’m not sure I want to know," she giggled with her friend.

That set Naomi off on a laughing fit. "I keep trying to picture it, but it’s just too nasty. I can’t even think about Mommy doing that with some man, even if it was to get me. It just makes me feel—sort of sick inside."

"I know you don’t think so now, but someday, it won’t seem sickening. And then it will be okay for you to fall in love, okay?"

"Okay. Will you help me pick someone?"

"If you still want my help when the time comes, yes. But by then, you probably won’t think I’m so smart. That’s part of growing up. You realize all those grownups you thought knew everything don’t know much at all," she warned her.

"Kieran?"

"Yes?"

"Do I need to apologize to B’Elanna? I mean, I guess Klingons are pretty territorial—that’s what Seven called it. Is she going to have to restore her honor by poking me with a pain stick or something?"

Kieran howled with laughter. "Why don’t you ask her that?" Oh I want to be there for that conversation, she snickered. I wish Kathryn and Seven could be there. Oh my God, B’Elanna will shit her pants. Priceless.

"You’re laughing about that? Should I assume that means she’s going to have to do a lot worse? She’s not going to have to whack my head off with a bat’leth, or anything, right?"

Kieran doubled over, unable to stop, gasping for breath. "Oh Naomi, you are so cute," she howled. "Please, do me a favor and ask her that. She would never hurt you, but be sure and ask about restoring her honor," she chuckled, wiping her eyes. "Why don’t you come by my quarters around 1700 hours and you can talk to her."

"Okay."

Kieran started plotting to get the conversation on a holovid record.

___________________

Naomi decided to increase her chances of survival by bringing B’Elanna a peace offering. She got permission to pick flowers from the Arboretum, and put together a huge bouquet. She thought about replicating some qagh too, but decided anything that made B’Elanna think of Klingon bravado wasn’t a good idea. She really wanted to keep her head attached to her neck.

She rang the chime to Kieran’s quarters, bouncing on her heels with nervous energy. Kieran came to the door. "Hi sweetie, come on in," she greeted her with a broad smile. She inconspicuously tapped a series of commands into the console next to the door, which initiated the recording sensors.

Naomi walked over to B’Elanna, who was relaxing in an overstuffed chair. She thrust her hand out with the fragrant purple blossoms. "These are for you, B’Elanna."

B’Elanna smiled, but her expression was clearly one of confusion. Kieran hadn’t told her a thing, and shrugged her shoulders innocently.

"Thank you Naomi."

"I owe you an apology," she said solemnly. "And I want to help you restore your honor."

A slow smile crept across Kieran’s face. She pretended to be busy making dinner.

B’Elanna regarded the little Ktarian quizzically. "Why would you owe me an apology?"

"Because I—I let myself have feelings for Kieran that I shouldn’t have had. Because she’s commited to you, and you’re in love with each other, and I have been disrespectful of that." Her eyes were ovals as she lowered her voice. "I’m ready to help you restore your honor," she said contritely.

"My honor?" B’Elanna took a sip of iced coffee, completely baffled.

"Yes. I guess that means you’ll have to poke me with a pain stick. Go ahead. I can take it." She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see the torture device looming before her.

B’Elanna shot a look at Kieran, who had forced her face into impassivity. "I have no idea," she mouthed the words soundlessly.

Naomi opened one eye, uncertain of the reason for the delay. "Well? C’mon B’Elanna, let’s get it over with."

"You want me use a pain stick on you." It was more a statement than a question. She took a long draught from the iced coffee, thinking Kieran had put Naomi up to this.

"Yes, unless that is insufficient to restore your honor. You—you don’t have to cut my head off with a bat’leth or anything that severe, do you?" Naomi had genuine fear in her eyes. "I’m really sorry B’Elanna. I didn’t mean to take your honor. I know I have violated your territorial rights. I’m willing to face the consequences. " Then as an afterthought, drawing from her social studies class lessons, she solemnly added "Today is a good day to die."

B’Elanna spewed iced coffee through her nose and all over the living room, choking on her laughter. Kieran was in stitches behind the kitchen counter, laughing too hard to even assist B’Elanna in getting air into her lungs and expelling the coffee.

Naomi planted her hands on her hips petulantly. "What is so funny? I’m trying to be brave, here, but if you’re just going to laugh at me— " she complained.

B’Elanna cut her off, grabbing her into a hug. "Oh Naomi, I’d never cut your head off, or po-po-poke you with a pain stick!" she was off on another laughing binge. "You haven’t taken my honor. Oh Kahless, you are something else, girl," she hooted. "Kieran, toss me a towel please."

Kieran tossed her a towel and then came around the counter with a second towel, wiping up flecks of iced coffee.

"I’m sorry about your quarters," B’Elanna apologized.

"Oh, no, it was worth it, ’Lanna," she was still sputtering as she cleaned.

Naomi was glad nobody was angry with her, but she was miffed to be the butt of this particular joke. B’Elanna could see that she would have to assuage Naomi’s ruffled feathers, but she didn’t mind. She knew she and Kieran would laugh over this for years to come.

B’Elanna pulled Naomi into her lap, dabbing the coffee spots off of her shirt. "Sweetie, I don’t blame you for loving Kieran, or wanting to be close to her. I know I feel that way about her. She’s pretty hard to resist."

"Resistance is futile," Naomi giggled. "I’m glad it’s okay. I’m really glad you aren’t required to punish me, too."

"Naomi, if that’s what I was required to do to satisfy my honor, I’d just as soon forfeit it. I couldn’t hurt you, let alone kill you for some dubious Klingon ritual."

"That’s a relief," Naomi sighed. "And you aren’t mad?"

"Hardly. I compliment you on your good taste."

"Okay you two, no more backhanded compliments. Naomi, have you had dinner yet?"

"Nope. Kathryn and Seven are still working. Something about those class L planets Seven found."

"Would you like to join B’Elanna and I for dinner? We’re having Spaghetti."

"That’d be great. I’m starving," she agreed.

Kieran subtly disengaged the sensor recorders, thinking that Kathryn would appreciate the humor of Naomi’s apology to B’Elanna. She could hardly wait to show her the playback.

__________________

The crew of Voyager was assembled in the Cargo Bay, where Samantha Wildman’s body lay in state. The Federation Flag adorned her casket, which was a shiny metallic torpedo casing. The honor guard folded the flag methodically, and handed it to Janeway. Naomi accepted the folded flag from the Captain, who broke with tradition and kissed Naomi’s cheek as she handed the girl the flag. She handed Naomi a metal container that held Samantha Wildman’s rank ensignia, her wedding ring, her comm badge, and her wrist chronometer. Naomi gazed longingly into the torpedo casing one last time to memorize her mother’s lovely face. She touched the transparent aluminum, remembering how much Samantha Wildman had loved her, and how graciously and courageously she had faced her duty and ultimately her death. She whispered, "I know you can’t hear me anymore, Mommy, but I love you. I will always, always love you."

She stepped back from the casket, nodding at Janeway. Chakotay called the crew to attention. Janeway set her jaw, and purposefully stated "Mr. Tuvok. Fire torpedo launcher."

"Bye, Mom," Naomi said softly. "I’ll miss you." She buried her face in Seven’s shoulder, not watching as the bullet-shaped object sped toward the solar corona where it would vaporize instantly on contact.

__________________

Epilogue

Naomi walked around in a daze for a week after the funeral. She asked to be left alone, and her request was treated with deference. She obtained several holoimages of her Mother from the Doctor, who had been taking pictures throughout the journey. Naomi worked on a photo archive of her Mother, using his pictures, and some of her own. She was preoccupied with the archive, anxious to capture the memories before they could fade. Even her beloved calculus did not provide a distraction from her sorrow.

Seven decided that Naomi’s self-imposed isolation had continued long enough. She invited Kieran and B’Elanna to dinner, intending to get Naomi out of her room for a few hours. Seven informed Naomi that she must attend if she wanted any input on the vacation plans they would be discussing. The data analysis of the class M planets was complete, and the long range probes indicated a substantial post-warp society on one planet. The scans indicated the planet would be ideal for a vacation.

With a little coaxing, Kathryn was able to persuade Naomi to show her the archive. She praised her for the artistic touches that had gone into the memento, and shared her own memories of Samantha as they poured over the holoimages. Kathryn made a mental note to request a copy of Naomi’s birth photos from the Doctor. She wanted to make her own archive of Naomi’s life, someday. Her own mother had kept a scrapbook for her as she was growing up, and it had been one of the best gifts she’d ever received. Gretchen Janeway had given it to her when she graduated from the Academy. Kathryn intended to continue the tradition with her own daughter.

After some tentative attempts at mending fences, with a few awkward missteps, Kieran and Naomi were the best of friends again. Naomi wasn’t one to hold a grudge, and Kieran wasn’t one to let a loved one get away from her. They resumed their regular time together, walking in the arboretum, playing in the holodeck, or just talking about things. Kieran was particularly conscious of how Naomi might react to losing her mother, especially since she had been the one to decide what to do with regard to whether Samantha continued in stasis, or in this case, did not continue.

Kieran kept herself extremely busy with "Operation Offspring", as it was dubbed. The committee she put together worked diligently to come up with a fair, equitable solution for lifting the procreation ban, and the initial projections were promising. The first wave of pregnancies was scheduled, and a lottery among all the prospective parents was held to see who would be allowed to conceive. The committee authorized the reorganization of space on the lower decks, so that family quarters could be established. Voyager was rapidly transforming into a multi-generational ship, and Kieran was overjoyed at the prospect of having more children on board, if only for Naomi’s benefit.

____________________

Inclar Prime was a Delta Quadrant mecca of tourism, trade, recreation, and commerce. The scouting team had determined it was not only safe, but delightfully hospitable. The natives, the Inclari, were ebullient types, small in stature like a Ferengi, with copper colored skin that shimmered with irridescent scales. Naomi thought they were the most beautiful species she had ever seen. They had multi-faceted eyes that rippled in different colors, depending upon the amount of light at any given time, and their scales caught the light periodically, making a fire-works display show that undulated when they walked. She was thrilled to discover that the innkeeper at the hotel where her clan would be vacationing had two children close to her age. She was going to teach the oldest girl, Anree, how to play Kadis Kot.

The shopping malls were overflowing with wares of all types and from all cultures. Kathryn and Seven were in the market for some clothes that weren’t from the replicator patterns. Kieran and B’Elanna were looking for wedding rings, and dragged Kathryn and Seven to half a dozen jewelry stores before settling on a design. Naomi was simply fascinated by the plethora of species on the planet, and all the children she was seeing. Everyone seemed to have at least two children with them, except the crew from Voyager. She talked to every child who would venture to try to communicate, some even when the universal translator could not quite make the transition from English to whatever. Kathryn started to wonder if perhaps Naomi might be a skilled diplomat, one day.

Naomi spent the night with Anree twice during their two week stay on Inclar Prime, and both nights, the adult women went dancing. The second time, they capped off the evening in B’Elanna and Kieran’s room, watching the holoplayback of the conversation between Naomi and B’Elanna. Kieran had made a copy for Kathryn and Seven, but made them swear never to show it to Naomi. Kieran had edited the video so that she could zoom in and replay the frames of B'Elanna shooting iced coffee from her nose, forward in slow motion, backward, and a frame at a time. The four women laughed till they cried. Janeway played with the remote for at least fifteen minutes, just to get another look at B'Elanna’s face when Naomi asked if B'Elanna was going to poke her with a pain stick. From then on, whenever tempers were frayed or one of the group seemed angry, inevitably someone would ask "Are you going to poke me with a pain stick?" And when things got a little too serious, Janeway would pipe up with "Today is a good day to die." On B'Elanna’s birthday, Seven of Nine replicated an absurd face mask that extended from the wearer’s forehead out and down. She called it a mobile sneeze guard, and claimed it was to keep B'Elanna from soaking everyone the next time she ‘passed liquid through her nose’, as Seven put it.

 

The night before they were slated to return to Voyager, Kathryn and Seven convinced Kieran and B'Elanna to take Naomi swimming at the hotel pool so they could have some time alone together. They spent the evening making love for the first time since the vacation began. Afterward, they lay together, content and sleepy.

"Kathryn?"

"Mmmmm?"

"Next time let us get Naomi her own room," Seven suggested, grinning. "It is not much of a vacation if I have to keep my hands to myself for two solid weeks," she flirted.

"Good point. But darling, you know anytime we want some privacy, Naomi can stay with Neelix, or Kieran and B'Elanna."

"Perhaps we should make arrangements over the next few days. I fear if we do not take the time now, we may not be able to later," she opined fretfully.

Janeway lifted herself up on one arm, looking at her beloved. "Why wouldn’t we be able to later?" she inquired.

"Because the baby is going to take most of our time and attention."

"Seven?"

"I have made you wait long enough, Kathryn. With all the changes Voyager is going to go through, I felt I should throw our hat into the ring for the baby lottery. We were selected. We are to report for fertilization within the next two weeks. If we decide not to conceive, we forfeit our chance and must reenter the pool. Our winning number would go back into a second drawing."

Kathryn kissed her excitedly. "Really? We won? We can have another child?"

"Yes," Seven hugged her, pleased to see how happy the news made her spouse.

"Have you talked to the Doctor?"

"Yes. You have an appointment in three days."

Kathryn quirked an eyebrow. "What do you mean, I have an appointment?"

Seven was taken aback. "I will attend with you, of course, Kathryn. But the Doctor will be examining you."

"When did we decide I was going to be the one to carry this baby?"

Seven frowned. "I thought it was the only logical choice. You disagree?"

"What’s logic got to do with it?"

Seven encircled the older woman in her arms. "Are you not familiar with the saying ‘Age before beauty’, Kathryn?"

"Are you not familiar with the saying ‘Today is a good day for you to die’, Annika?"

They laughed together happily. Seven kissed her beloved’s auburn tresses, smiling. "I actually do have a logical argument as to why you should have our first child," she murmured.

"Which is?"

"As I said, my love, your age. You are nearing the end of your reproductive years, so if you ever intended to conceive, it would have to be within the next five years. The odds of our winning another lottery in such a short span are negligible. Therefore, you should be the first. I have many years before I can no longer safely reproduce. We can take our time on the next child."

Janeway smirked. "I think you’re really stretching this because you know how bad you’d look in one of those form fitting bio-suits if you were six months pregnant," Janeway teased.

"On the contrary. I find the female form aesthetically marvelous in the late stages of gestation."

"So are you saying you wouldn’t care how you look pregnant, or are you saying if I were pregnant, you’d be really hot for me?"

Seven smiled brilliantly. "Both," she quipped.

Janeway lay in her arms again, nibbling an earlobe, delighted by Seven’s quick intake of breath. "Well, if it means you’ll be all over me during the pregnancy, I’m all for carrying the baby," she flirted.

End