The BLTS Archive - Well and Truly Doomed
Second in the Real Affection series
by DianeB

--

DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns it all. Always has, always will.
I accept this.

SUMMARY/NOTES: April, 2001. So sue me. My story "Real
Affection" just begged for a PWP sequel, so declareth Mighty
Editor Goddess. What else could I do but write it? Okay, so
it took me till page seven to get to the real Treksmut, but
if you read it all, I think you'll find the ride to be just
as much fun as the destination. Rated NC-17 (all the naughty
bits in this). Gosh, don't ya just love fanfic?

Thanks, Brenda! Thanks, also, to DangerMom, the lady with
the razor-sharp eyes.

---

Chakotay knew he would never be able to describe the first
kiss he was given by Seven-of-Nine. Clearly, her
"experimentation" on the holodeck had proven quite
beneficial. She was purely tactile. She molded herself to
him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her lips softened
against his, her jaw relaxed, and her tongue sought deeper
regions as if she intended to eat him live.

Which, perhaps, she did.

But he was no slouch in the kissing department, though he
liked to think he did not abandon himself to his feelings
quite as much as she did. He brought his arms around her,
realizing at once how different from Kathryn she felt,
insinuated one thigh between both of hers, and moaned down
her throat, his tongue finding and tasting hers.

It did not take more than this for a certain portion of his
anatomy to respond with great enthusiasm; he could feel it
grow hard against her. My God, he hadn't had an erection
this fast since he was sixteen!

At that second he remembered where they were, and he
suddenly couldn't breathe. He yanked his lips from hers and
sucked in a mighty breath.

"Sky Spirits and Gods Above, Seven," he exclaimed, as he
held her out at arms' length. She was thoroughly flushed
now, from the roots of her fair hair down her neck and no
doubt further on down. Her eyes were closed and she swayed
against his arms, her full lips glistening and still pursed
in the kiss he had abandoned.

"Seven!" He shook her. Had she been wrong about the amount
of time she had before she shut down? How could he ever
explain this to...to...anyone? On second thought, who was he
kidding? He wouldn't have to explain it to anyone! They were
in the damned airponics bay! The rumor mill probably had all
the details already! He struggled to take a proper breath.

Jesus Christ, old boy, calm the hell down before you have a
good old-fashioned heart attack.

Seven opened her blue eyes and, thankfully, focused directly
on him. She straightened up and stood on her own, and he
released the breath he had not realized he was holding.

He must have looked a fright, because she was suddenly all
business, so much so, he nearly choked on the incongruity.
"Commander, what is wrong? Are you damaged?"

"No! No, Seven, I'm not damaged." Now his twisted sense of
humor kicked in, giving him some much-needed mental space.
"Heh, I thought maybe you were. I thought the fail-safe
device got the jump on you."

Her brows furrowed. "The jump...?"

"Means, caught you by surprise, unprepared. Thought maybe,
uh..." he faltered, "maybe you didn't have the two hours you
said you did." He was starting to get that Icheb-like
feeling again and noticed with some dismay that his anatomy
was striking up the band once more. Seven noticed, too, and
to his complete shock actually smirked. She must have had
quite the time on the holodeck, and this thought did not
necessarily disturb him.

"No, Commander. I have two hours." She paused and shifted
her stance, leaning towards him. "If you find it acceptable,
I would like to suggest we go someplace more private."

'Experimentation,' indeed, Seven. Whose scripts have you
been studying? Paris'? Ye gods, I hope you weren't using his
lines on my holoimage, but if you were, I hope I wasn't
falling for them. Like I'm not falling for you now... He ran
his tongue over his dry lips, tasting an unfamiliar
sweetness that caught him completely off guard. He was
aroused now to the point of painful, and the uniform did
nothing to hide that fact. Oh, man, I am well and truly
doomed. His next thought, thankfully, reminded him his sense
of humor was still intact, always on the lookout for his
best interests.

"Only if you tell me the real thing's better than the
holoversion."

Unfortunately for his ego, she appeared to have to actually
think about that one. To his relief, and possibly to
something more, she nodded.

"It is much better...Commander."

How on earth did she make his rank sound like a come-on? He
wanted to throw himself at her, and it was all he could do
just to rasp out a couple of words.

"Let's go to my quarters."

---

They did not make it unseen to his quarters, though it would
have surprised him if they had. Unfortunately, not only were
they seen, but they were seen by the biggest gossip on the
ship. The saving grace was that she was only five and didn't
have the savvy of some the older gossips, such as Meg
Delaney or Chell, though that had never stopped her from
piping right up. A result, he guessed, of being raised by a
bunch of adults, on a ship that didn't hit dirt very often.
He stood discreetly behind Seven, not wanting to explain
anything more than he'd absolutely have to. Could the
situation become any more absurd?

Well, yes, possibly it could if he weren't very, very
careful. His erection, he noticed, was calming down some.
The heat had definitely gone out of the moment, but he
wasn't sure he was happy about it, and he had no idea how
Seven might be feeling. Oh well. First things first.

"Hi Seven! Hi Chakotay!" Naomi Wildman was in an unusually
chipper mood, even for her.

He spoke over Seven's shoulder. "Hi, Naomi. I thought you
were playing kadis-kot with Icheb."

"I was, but we're done and guess what?" She was bouncing on
her heels, and he had an idea what "what" was.

"Um, what?"

"I beat him!"

He arranged his features to reflect a smile. "Well,
congratulations! I knew you could do it."

"Thanks!" In typical child-like fashion, Naomi switched the
subject back to the two of them, turning her attention to
Seven, who had done nothing so far except tilt her head at
the child. "Where ya going?"

This time Seven spoke, in very strict Borg fashion. "To
Astrometrics. We have...work to do."

Okay, he thought, impressed. I don't think I'd've believed
it if I hadn't heard it with my own two ears. I was mistaken
earlier, wasn't I? She's a damn good liar when she wants to
be. Once more, no surprise. He was starting to feel as
though nothing would surprise him again.

Naomi made a moue of disgust. "Eww. I'm going to Holodeck
Two to play with Flotter. See ya." She proceeded around them
to skip down the corridor.

Saved by a big blue hologram. He shifted to keep himself out
of her line of vision. "Bye. Have fun."

He turned his head and met Seven's eyes. They were darker
blue than usual-smoldering was the only word, and he sighed
inwardly, feeling a stirring in his groin. He could no more
deny his feelings than breathe in space and wondered if they
had any of Seven's two hours before the whole ship knew.

Not bloody likely.

---

Seven figured she saw Naomi at about the same time as
Chakotay did, but when she heard him clear his throat softly
behind her, and touch her waist lightly, she immediately
stopped, noticing he was keeping himself just out of sight
of the child.

The exchange was brief, but came too close to Naomi inviting
herself along with them. Under other circumstances, that
would have been perfectly acceptable, as Naomi often
spontaneously joined crewmembers during their off-duty time.
But this was not a circumstance for Naomi Wildman, nor was
it one she should have to explain to her. So she did the
only thing she could. When Naomi asked where they were
going, Seven lied.

She glared at Naomi, a tactic that usually worked, though
Naomi was getting to be just as hard to stay ahead of as
Icheb. "To Astrometrics. We have...work to do."

Her glare had the desired effect this time. Naomi made a
face and announced she was off to the holodeck to play with
Flotter. Seven watched Chakotay as he watched after the
child and kept her eyes on him as he turned his head back to
her. He twitched awkwardly and then placed his hand at her
lower back, encouraging her to begin walking again.

---

The instant the doors to his quarters closed, Seven turned
to him, putting her implant-hand on his chest. "Commander, I
do not..."

He cut her off with a bruising kiss, crushing her hand to
him, but she wasted no time in responding. After a minute or
two, physical limitations forced them apart for breath.

"You were saying?" He ground his thigh between her legs.

She leaned heavily into his leg. "Muh...much better than my
holodeck program."

Her humor was improving by the second, perhaps to cover for
the erotic absurdity of the state they were presently in. He
knew she wasn't a stupid woman, just naïve about some
things-a thought that brought him up short again.

He eased the pressure between her legs. "Seven, is this your
first...will I be the first..." Well, hell, how does one
phrase this when one is aroused to the nth degree and, he
looked down and saw a damp spot on her catsuit, so is one's
partner?

But she let him off the hook by taking his hand and placing
it between her legs, answering succinctly and not just a
little huskily, "Yes. Please proceed."

He groaned, a truer sound never uttered by all of mankind,
and bent his head to hers, keeping his hand in place and
beginning to knead ever-so-gently. She responded instantly
to his caress, pulling her lips from his and letting her
head drop back. She made a noise, but he couldn't identify
what it sounded like. A mix of a sigh, a moan, and a growl.
Then she raised one leg and arched further away from him.
Unprepared, he almost let her fall.

"Whoa!" He threw his arms around her waist, only to have her
arch nearly in half over them. "Seven? Seven!" Again, he was
worried that she was shutting down, and wondered if he would
just continue to worry about that for the next two hours, no
matter what she said. It could put quite the damper on this
little party.

But, no, once more she recovered, righting herself in one
fluid motion he didn't think any other person could
accomplish without severely spraining something. "I am not
shutting down, Commander. I am merely responding to your
touch. Do you find my actions...unappealing? Will you be
questioning my responses for the next two hours?"

Sweat had broken out along his hairline. He was too old for
this, but he was not about to admit it or to stop. "No, no,
not at all, Seven, your responses are very...appealing.
They're just a little...unexpected, I guess. I'm sorry, I
promise I won't worry about your shutting down until you
tell me to." He placed his hand on her cheek, brushing the
starburst implant, and heard her gasp. "How about if we go
into the bedroom and lie down? You might find it more
comfortable than hanging backwards over my arms, and I might
find it less alarming."

He was more than relieved when she nodded.

---

Once inside Chakotay's quarters, Seven was unsure if they
should proceed. She recognized that she was no longer as
aroused as she had been in the airponics bay, and knew the
passing of time could do that to a person. Perhaps the
Commander felt the same way. She turned to him to express
this, placing her hand on his uniformed chest.

She was quite unready for the crushing kiss, but wasted no
time becoming ready, using techniques she had practiced on
her holoversion of Chakotay. However, her holoversion's
hands did not move on her the way Chakotay's were now, nor
did he press his thigh into her the way Chakotay was now.

It was all far more stimulating than the holodeck and she
thought she told him so, but she couldn't quite be sure,
because her head was spinning. Not buzzing-not yet,
anyway-but spinning, as though she had been turning in
circles for too long. She felt an unaccustomed ache between
her legs.

Then suddenly Chakotay stopped applying pressure and was
questioning her. Was he the first? First what? Her spinning
head finally put it together. She wanted that pressure
again, so she took his hand and placed it between her legs.

"Yes. Please proceed."

When he began to rub her, the backs of her thighs started
tingling, and she nearly lost what little control she had
left. She could not remember exactly what she did, she only
remembered thinking she had to get his hand somehow closer.
She bent her head back and arched slightly, but it wasn't
enough. Not thinking about practical things like gravity,
she raised one leg and arched her back fully.

For one second, she felt herself falling, and then his arms
were tightly around her waist. Unfortunately, in order to
catch her, he had to remove his hand. He was calling her
name, so she straightened up to reassure him one more time.

"I am not shutting down, Commander. I am merely responding
to your touch." Had she done something wrong? Was he going
to question her responses the entire two hours? She could
not pause the program to check the database for the
appropriate information. She had to ask him outright. "Do
you find my actions...unappealing? Will you be questioning
them for the next two hours?"

She was relieved to see his expression turn from alarm to
amusement. "No, no, not at all, Seven, your responses are
very...appealing. They're just a little...unexpected, I
guess. I'm sorry, I promise I won't worry about your
shutting down until you tell me to." He reached his hand to
her face and she gasped when he stroked the starburst
implant. "How about if we go into the bedroom and lie down?
You might find it more comfortable than hanging backwards
over my arms, and I might find it less alarming."

She nodded into his hand.

---

As they sat together on the bed, Chakotay spoke. "Seven,
I've got to be honest with you. This isn't exactly the
direction I thought our friendship would go."

"Yes, Commander," she stated flatly. "It is 'going this way'
because I used your image for my program."

He grinned and placed his hand on top of hers. No sense
denying the obvious. "Well, yes, maybe just a little, and
that's okay." A question came to him, one he'd been wanting
to ask for a while. "May I ask why you used me and not, say,
Harry Kim?"

She frowned. "Harry Kim is still pining for Ensign Ballard,
and now that Voyager is in regular contact with Starfleet,
I...heard he has been asking about...Libby?"

He nodded. "Yes, Libby. Libby was his girlfriend at the time
Voyager was tossed into this quadrant. Didn't he ever tell
you about Libby?"

"No."

Chakotay recalled how Harry felt about Seven when she first
started walking around the ship in her "transformed" shape,
and figured, no, Harry probably would not have told Seven
about Libby. Then he realized she hadn't really answered his
question. It wasn't that he was fishing for compliments, or
trying to force an admission out of her, he just wanted to
know if she was honestly attracted to him or simply studying
human mating behavior again, with him as the lucky guy.

"Why'd you use me, Seven?"

She looked away for a moment and then looked back, a fierce
brightness in her eyes. "You seemed an appropriate choice.
You have many...admirable...qualities."

Whether or not he had been seeking it, her stark admission
floored him. For a woman raised by the Borg, she managed to
squeeze about two paragraphs of longing into those
statements, and he was mulling that over when she spoke
again.

"Would you please kiss me, Commander?"

His grin revealed dimples this time. "Only if you promise
never to call me Commander again."

She leaned towards him, a knowing smile on her face. "I
promise...Commander."

This time there was nothing in the way of their coupling.
When her lips met his, they exploded with moist heat, her
tongue meeting his with passionate abandon. He eased her
gently down onto the bed, broke the kiss, and sat up to
strip out of his uniform shirts.

She wasn't watching him; she kept her eyes closed and snaked
her human hand down between her legs, seemingly gone from
the room. He took the opportunity to stand and remove the
balance of his clothing. Crawling back up onto the bed, he
reached out and took her hand away, bringing her attention
back to him.

"Here, Seven, allow me." He began to rub gently again, using
his palm in a circular motion, and she responded instantly
once more, arching her hips into his hand. His body
responded with equal fervor. He wanted to touch her, skin to
skin, very badly.

He stretched up and began to tug at the collar of her
catsuit, intent on getting it off her, but it wouldn't come
easily. He was going to have to use both hands, which he
didn't want to do, but she saved him again by sitting up,
jostling his hand from between her legs.

"I must assist you, Comm...Chakotay. There is a specific
process." She reached up to her collar with the implant hand
and he heard several faint clicks. The suit loosened
immediately and fell off her shoulders. How very interesting
and confining, he thought. She slid to the edge of the bed
and stood, and he helped her to shrug completely out of the
suit and her footwear.

Though he had known the extent of the implants remaining on
Seven, he was still unprepared for the look of her. How
unbelievably unfair for such a perfect body to be violated
in such a horrible way, he thought. My God, if this is what
she looks like now, what must the Doctor have seen when we
first severed her from the Collective? He was careful not to
let any sound escape him as he looked at her.

Her back was cris-crossed with subcutaneous wires, and there
was a bluish implant at the base of her spine and one on the
back of her left thigh. Her upper right arm, too, bore a
spidery gray implant, and there was a small starburst at her
left ankle. He slowly turned her to face him. The wires
continued around her ribcage and another implant covered the
top of her right foot, similar to the way her hand was
covered. Her breasts seemed to be free of exterior implants,
but he did not know about what remained within her.

He was very careful to keep his features neutral. She did
not need his pity, though he would have to admit if she
asked that on some level, he did feel it. But this was
Seven, and if he was having trouble with the way she looked,
then he should not be looking, much less doing anything
more.

She raised her implant-brow, showing no sign that she was
embarrassed about standing naked before him. She curled her
fingers into the hair on his chest and stated candidly, as
if she could read his mind, "Commander, on the holodeck, I
had my implants erased from view, and your holoimage was
under the impression that the Doctor had been able to remove
all of them. As you know, that is not possible. I am sorry
if my appearance upsets you, but this... is the way I am."

His pity evaporated, gone with the feel of her fingers on
his chest. "Nothing to be sorry about, Seven. You're right,
it is the way you are." He tilted his head in preparation to
kiss her. "Your implants are part of you. It would not be
you without them. You look beautiful to me." As his lips
touched hers, he brushed his thumb over her breast and she
stiffened. He continued to move his thumb, and she again
molded herself to him. They swayed together until it came to
Chakotay that they were standing again. A light went on, and
he couldn't believe he missed it until now. It made perfect
sense.

"Seven, would you prefer to stand?"

She furrowed her brows, as if that had never occurred to her
and she couldn't be sure why it hadn't. "Yes, I would prefer
to stand."

He had one more question. "Would you allow me to lead?"

She smiled at that, and he was glad her sense of humor
remained as intact as his.

He returned the smile. "Let's go then, shall we?" He settled
her against the wall, put his hand to her cheek and kissed
her, brushing his thumb across the starburst implant,
feeling her lean into the caress like a cat. Moving his
mouth to her neck, he continued to brush the implant and
felt rather than heard her gasp softly when he scraped his
teeth against her jutting collarbone. He moved his mouth
further down, until it was in the hollow between her
breasts. There he licked lightly, pleased when the gasp
turned into a moan. He worked his way to his right, bringing
his hand up under her full breast and closing his lips
tenderly over the tight nipple, flicking his tongue against
it. She continued to vocalize, but it had become that
sigh/moan/growl sound she had been making earlier.

His focus spiraled down to what he was doing, and he kept at
it for some minutes. His concentration was such that it
startled him completely when he felt her hands around his
penis, but her hands was warm and she did not squeeze. He
straightened and thrust himself through her hands, copying a
more intimate act. She leaned forward and rested her head on
his chest.

He continued thrusting through her hands, too near release,
but too far gone to stop. He could smell her and it was
driving him crazy. He touched the inside of her thigh and
found it damp and hot, then slid his fingers further up into
the slick folds of her labia. She groaned and he felt the
wetness increase. Her humanity was right on the mark.

Very, very gently, he insinuated one finger up into her and
stirred, applying light pressure with his thumb to the
bundle of nerves above his finger. She shifted her pelvis,
clearly consumed by what he was doing, but she never once
altered her loose-fingered hold on him. He wasn't sure any
other woman would have such ability.

"Comm...Chak...Commander...please." She spoke with quiet
desperation. She may not have had any personal experience,
but she knew what was supposed to come next.

"Yes, Seven, yes, I know."

He wanted to bring her to orgasm this way, possibly bring
himself off, too, but thought better of it at the last
second. First off, he'd feel compelled to explain what he
was doing, and he wasn't sure he could find the words, and
second, well, he figured he might as well give her the real
thing. They had come this far, after all. He could save
other things for later.

With supreme effort, he removed his finger and backed out of
her hands, readjusting them both so they would fit together
better. They were nearly the same height, (though she was
shorter without the shoes) so he had only to bend slightly
at the knees. He took hold of himself and guided his penis
to her.

She was so wet he had no trouble entering her, encountering
no resistance at all. No resistance. At all. He did not
allow further thought about what sort of Borg violation
might have been responsible for that, but instead
concentrated on the sensations coursing through him. He sank
to the hilt inside her.

"Huhhh...my god, Seven, you feel like silk." He covered her
lips with his and wrapped his arms completely around her,
trying to hold back an instinctive desire to thrust against
her. He wanted to take it slow, but she was so warm and wet
that he was not sure how long he could hold out. He released
her lips to take a breath.

"Sweet Jesus, Seven," he managed to ground out before
covering her mouth again. He worked one of his hands down
between them, finding her clitoris on the first try. Rubbing
the slick nub in a circular motion with his middle finger,
he began a slow, rhythmic thrust.

She broke the kiss with profound exhale, resting her head
against the wall and closing her eyes. It was clear she was
not with him, but focused inward, perhaps trying to match
Borg knowledge with empirical. He wondered if she was having
any success. He decided to add more verbal encouragement to
the empirical side of things. He leaned in and hissed into
her ear.

"That's good, Seven, that's very good. You're wet, did you
know that, very wet, and you smell delicious. Very wet means
very aroused, very ready to reach orgasm." That sounded
absurdly clinical, but it seemed to be doing the trick.
Certainly it was doing the trick for him. He felt inner
muscles grip him firmly as his balls tightened for release.
He flicked his tongue into her ear, and she contracted even
more.

"Ah! Good! Good girl!"

Making love standing up was not one of his better skills. It
was awkward, and too much technique had to be sacrificed to
balance. But he gave it his all. He increased the pressure
and speed of his fingers, adjusting his stance so he could
gain a deeper thrust, kissing a line around her jaw,
whispering as he went.

"C'mon, Seven, uhh..c'mon." She gasped, tried to say his
name.

One more thrust and he felt himself coming, pulsing into
her. The moment was not earth-shattering the way these
moments were sometimes described in fiction, nor did it last
very long, but it was a release of the finest kind.

She choked and he grunted, both their bodies shaking with
the effort of climax and staying upright. Then Seven took a
deep shuddering breath and began to lose the battle with
upright, collapsing by degrees into him. He held her up long
enough to slip from her, then eased her to the floor,
forcing himself not to think the worst had happened before
she was able to give him the high sign. He stretched out on
his side next to her, waiting and watching. Her breathing
was even. He touched her neck. Pulse strong and steady. Her
eyes fluttered open and once more he released a breath he
had not known he was holding.

"Gave me another scare there, Seven, but I still have to
ask. Are you all right?"

She smiled. "Yes, Commander, I am...fine. I 'achieved
orgasm,' did I not?"

He chuckled, even though this time he knew she was not
trying to be funny. "Yes, you certainly did. What'd you
think?"

She scrunched up her forehead and he would have laughed
outright if it weren't for the fact he knew she was taking
his question very seriously. "I am afraid I cannot describe
it, Commander." She looked at him, clearly puzzled by her
own admission. "Why am I unable to describe it? I have read
countless books, listened to hours of lectures by the
Doctor, conducted my own studies of mating behaviors,
participated in..."

He cut her off by the simple act of putting his hand over
her mouth. "Some things just do not do well with too much
over-thinking. Best you not worry about describing it and
just worry about experiencing it, okay?"

She nodded in agreement. "I would like to experience it
again...Commander."

Before he replaced his hand with his mouth, he checked the
time. They had forty-five minutes.

---

The End