The BLTS Archive- A Kiss is Just a Kiss by Bridget Cochran (bjcochran@aol.com) --- Copyright 1998 Disclaimer: Paramount owns the characters, licensing, TV shows and movies. I only own the ideas. Archive at will. This story has never been anywhere but my web-site and at JuPiter Station as part of the I Love Paris series. I'm posting it so Gerina can have a chance in the Awards tourney so there are at least two authors with more than 5 stories. BUT, more importantly, I was told rather definitively that P/7 have NO chemistry. I think that's untrue. So, that's the second reason for this post. Enjoy. --- The incident with the Hirogen and Species 8742 left everyone with questions. Since they had been together through most of the engagement, he was the logical person for the Commander to debrief first. The only thing they had left out of the official report was Tom's reference to his great white hunter story about tracking a mouse through Jefferey's Tube 32. But it did go into Tom's personal log, along with a description of the look of incredulous irritation that crossed Chakotay's face. Tom's most fervent wish was never to lose the ability to make Chakotay purse his lips that way. Hey--everybody handles stress differently. With Tom, it was humor. No matter how inappropriate. Tom was beat when he arrived at his quarters. He stripped to his underpants and fell into bed, asleep in a minute. And he slept for about a minute. That's what it felt like. Actually, it was only two hours. Shit. He scrubbed a hand across his face and lay there, wide awake, trying to decide what to do. He could lie there four or five more hours. Nah. He could go work out. No. His muscles were already on a residual adrenaline rush. He climbed out of bed and into the shower. His first choice was the holodecks, but they were occupied with privacy locks. At least someone was having fun. He started toward the mess, but found himself heading to Cargo Bay 2. He remembered being there before, but couldn't remember the exact date. It didn't look much like a Starfleet Cargo Bay anymore. Darker, more sinister, full of bastardized Borg apparati fused with Federation issue in a crude, but effective melange. Tom smiled. Crude, but effective. One of Seven's favorite phrases, and now it was one of his; he'd already added it to his list of favorite platitudes. He moved to where Seven stood regenerating. He sure didn't understand the physiology of it, but it was magnificent to watch. She was tall and imposing, very nearly the same height as Chakotay. Tom always found it exhilarating to look a woman straight on. Pushing the commands to deactivate the regenerator, he looked up expectantly. The lambent eyes opened, blinked, then turned on him. He swallowed at their intensity. "You wanted something, Lieutenant?" "Yes-no-" Get a grip, Tom. "Uh, I heard you're being punished, and were sent to your room." "My room?" She stepped down, ignoring the offered hand. "Confined to quarters," he amended. Seven searched his face, looking for what he didn't know. "I am confined to quarters." "You must have really ticked her off." "Ticked?" Seven moved to a computer console and accessed it. Tom followed. "Yah. Pissed her off." He received a raised brow. "Made her angry." "Apparently." She continued to work unabated at her station. "How long ya in for?" "Unknown." Her fingers never stopped moving. Tom stood quiet for a moment. "There is something you wanted, Lieutenant?" "Just to see if you wanted to talk." "To talk?" She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "To what purpose?" Tom sighed. To what purpose? "To help you clarify your feelings." Seven turned to him full on and he resisted the impulse to take a step back. "Will you report these feelings to the Captain?" "No," Tom blurted. "Unless they put the ship in danger." Seven stared at the pilot for some moments before avowing: "I have no wish to harm this ship or its crew." "Glad to hear it," Tom smiled, looking around. "Is there somewhere we can sit and talk?" "I have no need to sit." Tom shrugged, "Human custom." His head snapped around at the derisive sound. "It's not a weakness to be comfortable, Seven." "There is weakness in comfort." "That's where you're wrong." He knew she was spewing Borg mantra. "Comfort is a reward, and, I, for one, enjoy it after a long day in the Delta Quadrant." Lacking any surface to perch on, he sat on the floor. After a moment gaging the ridiculousness of the situation, Seven sat, folding her legs in an awkward imitation of Tom's. Tom took a page from Chakotay's book and waited, until he realized she might never speak. "So, you made the Captain angry." "So it would seem." God, she could out Vulcan Tuvok. "How does that make you feel?" Hell, he could out Chakotay Chakotay. "I am confused. I am unsure how to act as a human. The Captain wants me to exercise my individuality, has been fostering it in me. But when I demonstrate that individuality, I am censured." "You disobeyed orders, Seven," Tom pointed out quietly. "The orders were unacceptable," she announced. "Species 8472 was threatening the ship with its presence. I did what I did for Voyager." "But you sacrificed Species 8472." Tom kept his voice pitched low and even. "It was the cause of the incident." "It wouldn't have if you had delivered the singularity and let it go home." "That was not acceptable." "To whom?" Seven blinked, surprised at the question. "Species 8472 caused much damage to the Borg." "Seven, the Borg went looking for Species 84472. If they hadn't been so formidable, the Borg would have assimilated them." She stared at him as if to say that much was obvious. This wasn't easy, Tom thought. Chakotay made it look easy. He had a thought. "What if it were Harry the Hirogen wanted?" "Why would they want Ensign Kim?" Tom shrugged. "Who knows? They just make him their prey. They come after us with a vengeance. All we have to do is hand Harry over." "But we would not do that. Ensign Kim is part of the crew. He would not be sacrificed." "No, he wouldn't be. The same way you weren't sacrificed when the Caatati stole our warp core. It would have been easier to turn you over, but your knowledge was ultimately more valuable. And you're still here. Sometimes humanity takes precedence over individuality." Tom was quiet now, determined (although it was not in his nature) to be silent and wait for Seven to speak. It was a long wait. Tom examined his fingernails to keep from staring at the beautiful, troubled face. "Will you kiss me, Lieutenant?" The blond head shot up so quickly he bit his tongue. He closed his eyes in an effort to keep from groaning out loud. "Kiss you?" he finally managed. "I am given to understand that a kiss is a pleasurable experience." It was an incredible a non-sequitor and there wasn't a soul in the universe that would believe Tom if he told. "Oh, it's a pleasurable experience all right." He couldn't help remembering the feel and taste of Chakotay's lips. He turned narrowed eyes on Seven. "Why me?" "You are here," she said, simply. "It is also common knowledge that you have some skill." Tom blushed. Warp 10 wasn't his only claim to fame apparently. Well, he never wanted to disappoint anyone. "We should probably do this standing up," he said as he pushed off the floor. Seven complied, but her face held questions. She stood expectantly while Tom wondered if he should leave now and not look back. But those full lips were calling his name. Okay, they were calling his rank. They were most compelling. What the hell, a kiss is just a kiss. He reached out to grasp Seven's ribcage firmly. He ran his thumbs, as he had often wanted to do, along the rib stays of her suit savoring the glide over shimmering fabric. He sighed. "Is this really necessary?" She was stiff in his embrace, her arms cast out, unsure of where to put them. "Mm-hmm," Tom placed his lips at her collar. "Put your arms around my neck. Ow. Relax, just lay them on my shoulders. Uh-huh, just like that," he whispered into her ear. "This is not kissing." "No," he agreed as his lips nipped her ear lobe. But, it's an extremely important precursor to the kiss." "Important how?" Was this what foreplay was like with Tuvok? Tom wondered. He pulled Seven in until their hips met and chests touched. "Because it's like music. You start off slow and soft--pianissimo--then build up to a crescendo: the kiss." Tom moved his lips along her jawline. "A music metaphor?" Her breathing had altered. Tom took her hand, the one still veined by her Borg attachment and placed it on his cheek. "I think it's appropriate." He moved it slowly, gently over his skin, his other hand still clutching her ribcage, aware of her quickening breath. Surprise registered as she begn to move her hand experimentally over his stubbled cheek. The motion was excrutiating for Tom in its undiluted sensuality. The looks of discover, awe and awareness on Seven's face was a wonder. She looked from her exploring fingers to Tom's eyes, then back again. Her eyes widened still when she felt Tom's awe and awareness intrude upon her pubic bone. He shrugged before leaning into her mouth. Gently, he bit her lips, easing his tongue between her lips. Her teeth proved to be a stronger barrier. "Open your mouth," he groaned. "Why?" "Because I said so." To Tom's surprise, she complied. Always a quick study, Seven was avid in her application of her new skill. Tom pulled away, never more reluctant to do anything in his life. "Lesson over," he muttered, but the sparkle of amusement was still in his eyes. He left the Cargo Bay quickly, without looking back. As he leaned panting against the side of the turbolift, he couldn't keep the smile from creeping across his face. There was nothing as bittersweet as the awkwardness of a first kiss. Life was good. --- The End