The BLTS Archive- Scents & Sensibility
by Lesa L. (azles01@aol.com)

---

Timeline: Follows "Someone To Watch Over Me" and "Warhead." Presumes 
that the Doctor and Seven did try to enter into a relationship 
following, "Someone To Watch Over Me."

Archive, yes please

Okay, I'm going to do what authors aren't supposed to do.  I'm going
to spoil my own story.  Anyone that has read any of my stories knows
that I write K/7 and P/T stories, with hints of J/C.  I make no
apologies for this.  That is what I like, so that is what I write.
That said, this story focuses on the idea that Seven and the Doctor
did try to enter into a relationship after "STWOM," and what happened
or didn't happen as a result.  If you're strictly here because you're
an EMH/7 fan, continue at your own risk.  Some things will happen to
the Doc that you might not like, however I assure you that ultimately
things will turn out fine.  Due to the length of the title and the
abundance of codes, I'll just be using "S&S" on the subject line from
here on out.  Each of the four chapters of the story will be coded
differently.

Lyrics used in this story are: 'Get what you give' by New Radicals,
'Roll to me' by Del Amitri's and 'Crush' by Dave Matthews Band.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns them.  I'm just playing around

---

Chapter one

Sandrine's was buzzing that night. Tom Paris' old holoprogram was
enjoying renewed interest since Voyager's Chief Helmsman had tinkered
with the program a little, bringing back the pool table that the
Doctor had deleted and adding an old Earth style "Jukebox" loaded with
his favorite songs from the 20th Century. The crew seemed to be
appreciative of the old music as could be seen by the crowded dance
floor and jovial atmosphere. To use an old earth idiom, 'The joint was
jumping.'

The man in question surveyed the room contentedly from his prime
position at the far end of the bar. Sandrine had always reserved that
space for him, reserving its neighbor for his mate. "This is nice," he
said, sipping from a glass of red wine.

"Very nice," B'Elanna agreed with a warm smile.

"We'll hang out for a while and then go back to my quarters," he
explained.

"That'll be nice too," she replied with a meaningful look.

He responded with a lazy grin, "With any luck, it'll be more than
nice. Oh I forgot," he added, "Harry will be here soon, he wants us to
join him and Marin Jenkins for a drink."

"I thought you said Harry wasn't interested in her?" B'Elanna asked
with a grimace.

"It's not what you think," her mate replied, "he doesn't want to be
alone with her, but doesn't want to hurt her feelings. Don't you like
Marin?"

B'Elanna shrugged, "I don't know her enough to like or dislike her.
But she's 'perky,' I don't like perky."

With a suggestive glance at the Engineer's bosom, Tom flashed a grin,
"I like perky."

Shaking her head with disgust, but unable to keep back a smile, she
retorted, "Don't be a pig." B'Elanna observed, "You'd think she'd have
given up by now. She's done everything but tattoo the entry codes to
her quarters on his arm with no effect."

"There's no accounting for taste, I guess," Tom replied. "Just don't
be mean okay? There they are now." Tom waved at his friend, who was
dressed casually, in pants and a sweater and Marin in her uniform. He
looked back at B'Elanna, "I don't know why he doesn't go for Marin.
She's nice enough and she obviously likes him." He slapped himself on
the head, "Oh I forgot this is Harry Kim we're talking about. He only
wants women on Voyager that don't want him." Taking her arm in his he
led her to the table.

"Now you're being mean," B'Elanna whispered as they wove their way
through the crowd.

"I know," Tom admitted ruefully. "But is it to much too ask to want to
see Harry happy after all this time? We'll stay for a while and them
make our excuses and leave for our own private get together." As they
joined the twosome, Tom asked innocently, "We're not interrupting
anything are we?"

"Not really, we're just having a good-bye drink," Jenkins answered
with a pretty pout, "last night was Harry's last on Gamma shift."
Shifting her position she pressed closer to the object of her
affections. B'Elanna raised her brow at the overt action.

"Aren't you going to miss sitting in the big chair buddy?" Tom teased
his friend.

"Well, kind of, a little," Harry admitted with a grin, "Tuvok's just
getting everything ready for the war games." He was referring to what
everyone on the crew called War Games, but Tuvok insisted on calling
Mock Tactical Maneuvers. The Captain had gone along with his request
since Voyager was heading through a relatively quiet area of space.
"It'll be nice to see everyone again," the Ops Officer said.

"It's not going to be the same on Gamma shift without you in command,"
Marin said softly.

Before Harry could think of a suitable reply to her comment, they
heard Tom observe, "Well look who's here." Looking up they saw
Voyager's newest couple entering Sandrine's.  Their table was not the
only one focusing on the entrance of the Doctor and Seven of Nine. All
action seemed to stop for a moment as the entire bar looked on with
speculative eyes.

They stood in the doorway for a moment. The Doctor was beaming, his
expression plainly stating, 'Look who's with me.' One of his arms was
clasped firmly around the former drone's waist, the other was waving
in the air as he seemed to be eagerly emphasizing some point.  Seven
stood stiffly then shook her head once, plainly disagreeing with him.
The Doctor patted her arm encouragingly and led her towards the
others.

"Ensigns', Lieutenant," he greeted them joyfully, "may we join you?"

"Sure Doc," Tom answered rising to move two more chairs to the table.
The addition of the extra seating forced the others to reposition
their chairs. B'Elanna was fine with virtually sitting on Tom's lap,
and Jenkins eagerly moved even closer to Harry. "Glad to see you could
make it," Tom said.

"Thank you Mr. Paris. I have to say I was disappointed to see that
you've deleted the piano from the program. I had planned to sing a
duet with Seven this evening," the EMH explained.

"A duet?" Tom said with surprise. "I'd be glad to temporarily exchange
the pool table for the piano."

"That is not necessary," Seven said coldly.

"No really," Tom said quickly, "all it would take is a little--"

"That is not necessary," the ex-Borg repeated. "I was not consulted
about the performance," she said, her lip curling in disdain, "and I
have no wish to sing."

"Think of it as practice for when we sing together on Talent Night,"
the Doctor said encouragingly.

The iciness of Seven's voice would have frozen anyone but a hologram,
"I do not recall agreeing to sing with you on Talent night."

The Doctor glanced nervously at the other members of the party. "We
talked about it yesterday with the Captain. Don't you remember
sweetheart?"

Standing even taller in her chair, his companion replied flatly, "No,
you and the Captain discussed it. You both said that it would be
'nice' for us to sing. I did not agree. Also, do you not remember our
conversation about proper designation?"

The Doctor patted her hand and explained, "Seven doesn't believe that
people should call each other by names other than their own. I've
tried to explain that it's perfectly acceptable to use pet names in a
romantic relationship."

Seven then questioned Tom, "Do you and Lieutenant Torres call each
other by pet names?"

Innocently, the helmsman replied, "Does pig count?" Before B'Elanna
could snap a retort, he continued, "So Seven does that mean that you
haven't given the Doc a name?"

Slightly puzzled, Seven replied, "He is the Doctor, what other
designation does he require?"

"I don't know," Tom said thoughtfully. With a mischievous glance at
B'Elanna he continued, "How about Schmullis or maybe Kenneth?"
referring to names that had been given to the Doctor by his first
romantic interest, Denara Pel and his one time holographic wife,
Charlene.

The Doctor appeared to blush, changing the subject by commenting, "I'm
glad we could make it tonight. Depending on what happens with
Commander Tuvok's 'war games' we might not have the chance to
celebrate for a while." As he spoke the Doctor settled his arm over
the back of Seven's chair. She ignored his gesture, focusing her
attention on the other people at the table.  She appeared most
interested in Ensign Jenkins position next to Harry, her brow arching
in surprise at their seemingly intimate seating arrangement. Harry
flushed slightly at her look of inquiry then seemed to take great
interest in the tabletop.

Sandrine herself came over and spoke privately to the Doctor, who
nodded and smiled in reply. He turned back to the table as the Chief
Helmsman asked, innocently, "So what are you two celebrating?" The
betting pools had been working overtime with people laying bets as to
the status of the Doctor/Borg relationship. If proof should surface
that they had consummated their affiliation, someone stood to win a
great deal of credits.

Placing his other hand over Seven's, the Doctor said proudly, "It will
be exactly one month tomorrow that Seven and I went on our first date
to the Ambassador's reception."

"Isn't that sweet," B'Elanna observed sardonically.

"It is," Ensign Jenkins said earnestly, "that's so romantic that you
two are celebrating." Changing the subject she looked closely at the
ex-Borg's clothing. A deep blue fitted skirt and matching blouse,
overlaid with a blue vest in a satiny fabric that laced up the front,
tightly, "I love that outfit you're wearing Seven."

Seven glanced down, as though refreshing her memory as to what exactly
she was wearing, "You love it?" she questioned her, coldly.

The Doctor quickly jumped in, "Thank you. It's one of the items of
apparel I've designed for her. She hadn't wanted to change her attire
tonight, but I insisted, since it was a special occasion."

B'Elanna rolled her eyes at Tom who appeared to be struggling not to
laugh. She attempted to catch Harry's reaction, but his interest was
still focused on the table. Ensign Jenkins continued, "You have a real
talent for fashion design Doctor."

"Yeah Doc," Tom agreed. "You're great with women's clothes. Isn't that
right buddy?"

"What?" Harry said, looking up at the people around him. "Oh? Yes,
that's right."  Looking into Seven's eyes, he said earnestly, "You do
look very nice tonight."

"Thank you Ensign," she responded, a slight smile softening her
countenance for the first time that evening.

"Doesn't she though?" the Doctor said, agreeing with pleasure to
Harry's comment. Smiling benignly at Marin, he continued, "If you'd
like Ensign, I'd be glad to send a few of my designs to your database.
You and Seven have similar coloring and they'd probably suit you as
well as they do her. Of course, you'll have to alter the
measurements," he said with a conspiratorial leer in Tom's direction.

Jenkin's eye's lit with excitement, "That would be great!" she
announced, then added cautiously, "That is, if you don't mind Seven."

Obviously puzzled, Seven asked, "Why would I mind? The Doctor has
designed more clothing options than I have any desire to wear."

Slightly miffed, the Doctor explained, "Some women would be jealous if
their significant other gave someone else something as personal as
wardrobe designs."

Her implant arched, quizzically as she looked toward B'Elanna, "Is
that correct?"

"I wouldn't know," the half Klingon woman replied with a sneer. "I'm a
grown woman, I pick out my own clothes."

"B'Elanna," Tom said with a note of caution in his voice. They were
interrupted by the arrival of Sandrine bearing a silver ice bucket
with a dark green bottle inside, followed by a waiter carrying a tray
with several champagne flutes.

"Ah here we go," the Doctor announced. He turned to the rest of the
table, "I hope you'll all join us in a toast on this special
occasion?" Sandrine expertly and silently removed the cork and began
pouring out the golden fluid.

"Dom Perignon huh Doc?" Tom observed. "Very nice."

"Thank you Mr. Paris. As a wine aficionado, I'm pleased that you
approve of my selection," the Doctor replied with pleasure. He
pointed, "Remember Sandrine, Seven gets the sparkling white grape
juice as well as Ensign Jenkins." He looked at Ensign Jenkins with
mock severity, "You are on duty shortly and even synthetic Champagne
would affect your reflexes."

"I understand Doctor," she replied with a warm smile, "thanks for your
concern."

"You are very welcome Ensign," he beamed with satisfaction. "Now
everyone please raise your glasses for a toast."

"Doc, you don't have a glass," Tom pointed out.

"That is correct Mr. Paris. I am a hologram and as such do not eat or
drink. I could have had a glass of holographic Champagne served to me,
but Seven believes it's redundant for me to pretend to eat or drink
since in reality I don't." He smiled at his date and continued, "Now
all of you, I'd like to make a toast to Mr. Paris!"

"Me?" Tom asked in confusion as everyone at the table stared at the
Medical Officer.

"Yes, Mr. Paris," the EMH began again, "if it hadn't been for your
words of reassurance and guidance I would not have been persuaded to
pursue Seven romantically. Thank you."

All eyes on the table swung towards the blond Helmsman with varying
degrees of pleasure, surprise and suspicion.

"You?" B'Elanna questioned him.

Seven fixed cold, crystal blue eyes on the pilot, "I did not realize
that you had a close enough affiliation with the Doctor to give him
romantic guidance."

"Tom's likes to give romantic....guidance," Harry observed, his
expression unreadable.

The object of their discussion flushed. He glanced warily at his
friend, then said "Really Doc, it wasn't a big deal."

"Nonsense," the EMH replied, "I was hesitant about approaching Seven,
but it was you who gave me the courage to think it was possible. I
will be eternally grateful for your encouragement." He looked at the
blushing Helmsman with gratitude shining on his features, "To Mr.
Paris."

The others held up their glasses, some more enthusiastically than
others, it should be said, and drank. After accepting a second glass
from the Doctor, Tom broached the subject that had been on everyone's
mind, "So what have you two been up to?" he asked casually.

"Up to?" Seven inquired, with a raised brow.

"Yes," Tom said, "I mean, what have you two been doing on your dates."
B'Elanna rolled her eyes and squeezed his thigh a little harder than
necessary. Her mate winced slightly but recovered quickly, "You know,
for fun?" he added weakly.

"I do not understand why our activities are of interest to you," Seven
questioned him.

With clenched teeth, B'Elanna retorted, "I didn't understand why our
activities were of interest to you either. But that didn't stop you
from stalking us."

Seven explained coldly, "I was not 'stalking' you. I was endeavoring
to obtain information on interpersonal relationships by observing--"

She was cut off by the Doctor, "Seven," he patted her hand, "we
discussed this. Isn't there something you want to say?" he asked,
raising his brows benignly.

His companion looked down, actually appearing uncomfortable, "Doctor I
do not-"

"Now Seven," he chastised her, shaking his finger at her pointedly,
"what are you supposed to do?"

"Very well," she responded flatly. Looking at Tom and then B'Elanna
she appeared to recite, "Ensign Paris and Lieutenant Torres, I am very
sorry that I invaded your privacy. Rest assured that it will never
happen again." She looked back at her mentor, her expression clearly
saying, are you happy now?

"That was very good," he praised her, beaming with pride. The rest of
the party had sat frozen listening to Seven on Nine apologize for the
first time that anyone could remember.

Tom recovered first, "Thanks Seven, I'm sure that was very difficult
for you."

"It was," she agreed.

Tom carefully removed B'Elanna's hand from his thigh and locked his
fingers around hers as he continued, "B'Elanna and I accept your
apology."

"As long as all the records have been deleted," his mate added,
shooting a venomous glance in his direction.

"They have," the Doctor assured her. "I took them all away from her
and deleted them myself."

"Yes, he did," Seven agreed, cold anger evident in her eyes.

The Doctor surveyed the table jovially, "Well now we can all start off
new, as friends," he added with delight.

"Friends?" B'Elanna repeated flatly.

"Yes, you can never have too many friends," the EMH explained. Looking
at Marin, he asked, "Don't you agree Ensign?"

"Yes, Doctor. Friends are very important," she replied with a
sparkling laugh in Harry's direction, he raised his eyes and smiled
warmly at her.

Seven addressed Jenkins, "I was not aware that you and Ensign Kim
considered yourselves to be...friends."

"I like to think we are," Marin said softly, her eyes fixed hesitantly
on Harry.

He nodded, and smiled pleasantly, "Yes, we are."

"On what do you base this...relationship on?" Seven asked.

Marin smiled impishly, patting Harry's arm and then allowing her hand
to rest there, "I guess on the basis that we've spent a lot of time
together in the last few weeks."

"That's wonderful," the Doctor chirped. "I'm glad to see Ensign Kim,
that you're moving on with your life after your unfortunate experience
with Derran Tal," he tactlessly continued. The EMH appeared to think
of something, "You know what we should do? We should plan an outing,
all six of us. Kind of like a triple date."

"A triple date," B'Elanna repeated in disbelief.

"Doctor," Seven began, "I do not wish to--"

"Nonsense," he cut her off. "It will be good for you to spend time
with other people."

"We'll see what we can do Doc," Tom said acting as peacemaker. "It'll
be hard to get everyone together at the same time."

"Thank you Mr. Paris," the Doctor said, obviously pleased.

For a few moments there was silence, and the words of the song on the
Jukebox rang out.

Fly high What's real can't die You only get what you give  Just don't
be afraid to leave Health insurance rip off lying FDA big bankers
buying Fake computers crashing dying  Cloning while they're
multiplying Fashion mag shoots with the aid of 8 dust brothers Beck,
Hanson  Courtney Love and Marilyn Manson You're all fakes  Run to your
mansions  Come around  We'll kick your ass in!

"Charming choice of music," the Doctor observed smugly.

Sitting up proudly, Tom said, "Don't knock it Doc. I'll have you know
that was a popular song from the 20th Century that discussed various
cultural icons and concerns that were on the minds of the pre-
Millennium generation. Besides, it has a good beat and you can dance
to it. What more can you ask?"

The Doctor turned his attention on the Chief Ops. Officer, "Ensign Kim
you of all people should have an answer to that?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked with a trace of annoyance.

"Ensign, you went to Julliard. You've studied the best of classical
music from all over the known universe. Surely you don't enjoy this
..noise?" he implored him.

"Just because I've studied classical music, doesn't mean I can't like
other kinds of music also," Harry replied flatly.

Sitting back lazily, Tom observed, "Sorry, there's no classical music
loaded on the Jukebox for you Doc."

The Medical Officer's eyes brightened with delight, "I'll have you
know Mr. Paris that Seven and I have not concentrated her musical
education solely on classical music. We have also been delving into
the realm of popular music."

With narrowed eyes, Tom repeated warily, "Popular music."

"That's right, the Doctor said jubilantly. "As a matter of fact the
song that Seven and I are going to sing on Talent Night is a duet from
a famous musical of the 20th Century called "South Pacific."

"Doctor..." his companion began, with more than a hint of warning in
her voice.

The Doctor would not allow any dampening of his enthusiasm. "Come on
Seven," he said, "let's show them what real music is."

"I have never sung the song. I have only read the score," Seven
cautioned him, her discomfort obvious to the others.

"You have an eidetic memory," the EMH reminded his prize student, "you
only need to see the score once." He placed his hand on his chest,
looked deeply into her eyes and began to sing in a clear tenor, "Some
enchanted evening, you may meet a stranger, you may meet a stranger,
across a crowded room." The others exchanged uneasy glances, as he
urged her, "Your part is next," he staged whispered to her.

"Doctor," Seven hissed, "I-"

Suddenly his combadge chirped, :::Wildman to the Doctor:::

Saved by the bell, was the mutual thought. Holding up his finger, the
Medical Officer tapped his combadge, "this is the Doctor."

:::It's time:::

"Already?" he asked, "I thought we had a few more days. Very well,
I'll meet you in Sickbay. The Doctor out."

"Is something wrong Doc?" Tom asked anxiously.

"Not at all," the EMH assured him pleasantly, "its just nature taking
its course." At the puzzled looks on the faces around him he
continued, "Naomi is getting ready to lose her first tooth."

"And that's a problem?" B'Elanna asked.

Seven spoke up, "K'tarian physiology."

"Exactly," he beamed. "K'tarians store more than twice the amount of
calcium in their system than humans, to offset the amount of calcium
it requires to grow and maintain their horns." The Doctor continued,
pleased as always to be the center of attention, "Because of the rapid
early growth of K'tarian children, they lose two sets of teeth to the
human one set. When they lose a tooth it is immediately replaced,
within minutes, virtually painlessly."

"Naomi, is only half K'tarian," Tom observed.

"Correct," he nodded, "and because of this, the replacement of the new
tooth will take a longer period of time and unfortunately not be
painless."

"Poor little thing," Marin said with feeling.

"Naomi Wildman is not a thing!" Seven unexpectedly seethed, "she is a
human K'tarian hybrid. And she 'is' my friend."

Stricken Marin glanced helplessly at Harry, "I didn't mean..." she
began.

"Seven!" the Doctor reprimanded her, "you should apologize to Ensign
Jenkins for that outburst."

"Seven," Harry addressed her earnestly, "Marin was using a common
human expression of sympathy. She was not being mean to Naomi."

"I see," she replied, "I was unfamiliar with that particular
expression Ensign," she apologized.

The Doctor stood to leave, "Duty calls," he announced, holding his arm
out he said, "Seven, I'll escort you back to Cargo Bay two on my way
to Sickbay."

"I would prefer to stay here, if that is acceptable," she answered.

The Doctor frowned slightly, then nodded, "Very well. Ensigns',
Lieutenant, Seven is still not comfortable in social situations, I'm
trusting you all, to watch out for her until I return."

B'Elanna rolled her eyes in disgust, but Tom answered soothingly,
"Don't worry Doc, Seven will be all right. We might not be here much
longer, but I know Harry will watch out for her."

"Thank you," he said gratefully. "I should return shortly," he assured
them. He bent as though to kiss Seven's cheek, but at her glare of
warning, he patted her hand instead and left.  For a few minutes they
all sipped their respective drinks and listened to the music still
booming from the Jukebox and watched the couples moving
enthusiastically on the dance floor.

---

Harry stood at the bar waiting for his drink from Sandrine, he had
excused himself from the table a few minutes earlier. He heard an
unmistakable voice behind him, "Ensign Kim?"

Accepting his synthale with a smile from the bartender he turned,
"What did you need Seven?" he asked, raising his voice to be heard
over the music. He noticed that she carried a half empty champagne
flute in her hands.

To his surprise instead of raising her voice as he did, she moved next
to him and dropped her voice to almost a whisper, "Why do you require
another type of beverage?"

"I don't like Champagne," he said nonchalantly, taking a long swallow
from his glass.

"That is incorrect," she informed him. "When we celebrated the
successful completion of the slipstream conversion, I observed your
consumption of Champagne."

Harry winced slightly at the reminder of what happened to the
Slipstream conversion. His jaw tightened as he replied, "I just don't
feel like drinking it right now.  Is that a good enough answer for
you?" he challenged her.

Seven moved even closer, her brow quirking slightly as she observed,
"Perhaps you do not feel like celebrating?"

Harry drew back, clearing his throat, he said, "I should get back to
Marin. It's rude to leave her alone like this."

Suddenly Seven moved in front of him, effectively cutting off his
exit, "Ensign Jenkins is speaking with several members of Gamma shift,
she does not require your presence at this time. However, I understand
that you would wish to continue your date," she added coldly.

"It's not a date," Harry corrected her. "She invited me to have a
drink with her because I'm coming back to Alpha shift."

Seven moved closer, with one brow arched, she told him, "Ensign
Jenkins appears to consider it a date. It is obvious by the dilation
of her pupils and her constant touching of your body that she wishes
to copulate with you."

Closing his eyes for a moment, Harry raised his hand to his temple,
taking a deep breath he repeated, "It's not a date." He looked into
her eyes, "And what would it matter if it was? Are you trying to get
more information about interpersonal relationships?"

"I have concluded my studies," she informed with a superior air. "Now
that the Doctor and I have begun a romantic affiliation there is no
further need for observation." She caught the eye of the male
bartender, holding up her glass she told him, "I would like a refill."
As he moved to take the glass from her, she told him succinctly, "I
would like it refilled with Champagne."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise, "Seven, I thought the Doctor said
you weren't supposed to drink synthahol."

"That is correct," she admitted, "synthahol impairs my cortical
functions." She accepted her now refilled flute and drank deeply. A
smile curved her lush lips, "I am testing a hypothesis. I believe that
by imbibing a sufficient amount of synthahol, I can begin to develop a
tolerance to it."

Harry smiled in spite of himself, "That glass you had refilled didn't
have grape juice did it?"

"You are correct Ensign Kim," she informed him. "This glass is the one
you left on the table. I simply switched the glasses while Ensign
Jenkins was occupied with her shift members and Lieutenant Torres and
Ensign Paris were occupied with each other."

Harry nervously ran his hand through his hair, "Seven, it was almost
full."

"It was," she agreed. Holding up her glass she observed, "At this
point in my study I have consumed one and one half glasses of
Champagne." Raising the flute to her mouth she drank the remainder,
"Correction, two glasses of Champagne." She held up her hand rubbing
her fingers together, "I can already begin to feel the effects from
the amount I have imbibed."

"I remember what happened that last time you drank Champagne," Harry
reminded her. "Maybe we'd better get you to Sickbay."

"No!" she said sternly, "I am not ill. I do not need to see the
Doctor." An almost mischievous look crossed her face, "I am beginning
to understand why people enjoy this sensation." To Harry's surprise
she raised her Borg enhanced hand and gently ran her fingers across
his cheek. "My fingers feel pleasingly numb," she explained.

Harry's eyes closed, too startled by her action to do anything to stop
it, shaking his head he said, "I think we should go back and sit
down."  He carefully tried to remove her soft fingers from his cheek.

"I do not wish to return to the table," she said loudly as she turned
to observe the couples around her moving to the music. "I am
unfamiliar with this style of dance. The Doctor has only instructed me
in formal dance, where you have contact with your partner."

"I'm sure," Harry muttered to himself. Continuing in a louder voice he
explained, "This is, I guess you'd call it a freestyle dance where you
just move to the music."

"The rapid rhythm is compelling," she said thoughtfully. Harry noticed
that she seemed to be moving ever so slightly to the music. His eyes
lingered on her gently swaying hips before he guiltily focused on her
face again. Seven turned the full force of her blue eyes on him as she
said decisively, "Ensign Kim I want to dance."

"The Doctor will be back in a minute. I'm sure he'd love to dance with
you."

Seven appeared to flinch slightly at his words, "I do not....I do not
want to wait. I want to dance now!" she proclaimed loudly. Several
people turned at the sound of her voice.

Tom and B'Elanna appeared next to them. "Harry," his best friend
hissed, "what the hell is going on?"

"I wish to dance," Seven informed him. "Ensign Kim does not wish to
dance with me!" she announced stridently.

"Shut up Seven," B'Elanna growled, "you're causing a scene!"

"For God sakes, just dance with her," Tom spat out.

"But I don't think--" Harry began.

"It's not a big deal. The Doctor won't mind," Tom cut him off. With a
look of triumph Seven grasped his arm firmly, pulling him the few
steps to the dance floor. Facing him she watched the other dancers for
technique, then began to move, stiffly at first, seeming to be
embarrassed by her lack of skill, then with more ease as a new song
began. Harry nodded, grinning his approval. The smile she returned
dazzled him senseless as they moved together to the music.

---
Look around your world pretty baby
Is it everything you hoped it'd be?
The wrong guy, the wrong situation
The right time to roll to me

Look into your heart pretty baby
Is it aching with some nameless need?
Is there something wrong and you can't put your finger on it
Right then, roll to me

And I don't think I have every seen a soul so in despair
So if you want to talk the night through
Guess who will be there?
So don't try to deny it pretty baby
You''ve been down so long you can hardly see
When the engine's stalled and it won't stop raining
It's the right time to roll to me
---

Moving closer to him to allow herself to be heard, she noted, "Ensign
Paris' choice of music is eclectic."

"He did a lot of research to make sure that the music on the Jukebox
was right," Harry explained with a grin.

Seven observed with a sparkle in her eyes, "His interest in the 20th
century borders on the obsessive."

Harry laughed out loud, as he nodded in agreement, "Tell me something
I don't know."

"Very well," she complied, "I enjoy dancing with you Harry."

The smile slid off his face, "Thank you," he managed to say.

"The lyrics of the song do not match the tempo. The tempo has as
Ensign Paris pointed out, a good beat and you can dance to it," she
smiled. "But the lyrics depict a woman suffering because of an error
in judgment. It is a sad song."

Harry heard himself say, "It doesn't have to be a sad song. The woman
made a mistake, people do make mistakes, but the man singing was
offering to be there for her...if she wanted him."

They regarded each other steadily for a moment. Then the next song
began, slower with an almost throbbing rhythm. Seven closed the
distance between them, positioning herself quickly she took one of his
hands in hers, moving his other hand around her slender waist. Resting
her hand on his shoulder, she looked expectantly at him.

"I don't think this is a good idea," Harry managed to whisper.

"Explain?" she asked, her breath fanning his face softly.

Harry stared into her eyes, saying as though reminding himself, "The
Doctor asked me to watch out for you."

Seven took that moment to press closer to him. "You are watching me,"
she pointed out, her lips curving softly.

Harry smiled back at her, numbed by the sensation of holding her in
his arms. Before he realized how it happened they were moving to the
music. Their eyes fixed on each other as the words of the song spoke
to them.

---
Crazy how it feels tonight
Crazy how you make it all right love
You crush me with the things you do
I do for you anything too
Sitting smoking feeling high
In this moment it feels so right

It's crazy I'm thinking
Just knowing that the world is round
Here I'm dancing on the ground
Am I right side up or upside down
Is this real or am I dreaming
---

Seven moved closer, leaning her temple gently against his cheek.
Harry's eyes closed as they swayed together.

---
Lovely lady
Let me drink you please
I won't spill a drop I promise you
Lying under this spell you cast on me
Each moment
The more I love you
Crush me
Come on

It's crazy I'm thinking
Just knowing that the world is round
Here I'm dancing on the ground
Am I right side up or upside down
Is it real or am I dreaming
---

Her hand traveled to the back of his neck, touching bare skin that was
usually covered by his regulation turtleneck. He felt her soft breath
on his neck and the warmth of her body pressed against his. That was
all that mattered for that moment.

---
Lovely lady I will treat you sweetly
Adore you I mean you crush me
It's times like these
When my faith I feel
And I know how I love you
Come on
Lady please

It's crazy I'm thinking
Just as long as you're around
And here I'll be dancing on the ground
Am I right side up or upside down
To each other we'll be facing
By love we'll beat back the pain we've found
---

She brought their clasped hands down, gently laying them behind her
waist and then removing her hand to place it on his shoulder. He
looked at her, the warm intensity of his dark gaze making her shiver
and she smiled.

Her next action brought him out of his trance. He felt her fingers
begin to stroke the back of his neck. One hand moving slowing into his
hair, not as he would have expected, to examine it's texture, but
simply it seemed for the pleasure of it. He swallowed, "Seven?" he
managed, unable to ask the question.

The movement of her hand stopped, but she did not withdraw it.
"Lieutenant Torres is performing a similar action to Ensign Paris,"
she said, her voice husky with emotion.

"They have a romantic relationship," Harry breathed, unable to keep a
note of regret out of his voice, "we don't." The words brought him
back to his senses. Reaching back he grasped her fingers in his and
tried to remove them. To his surprise, he felt her tighten her grip.

"Do you wish me to stop touching you?" she asked in confusion.

"You're dating the Doctor, this isn't right," he reminded her and
himself.

"That is not what I asked you," she pointed out.

"It doesn't matter," he hissed, moving back quickly hoping the action
would make her loosen her grip. Instead it threw off her already
unsteady equilibrium, she would have fallen if he had not clasped her
to him. Their breathing labored, they stared into each other's eyes
for one endless moment.

Suddenly Harry's arm was almost wrenched out of its socket. "How dare
you!" the Doctor hissed, as he pulled him away from Seven.  The EMH
held Harry's hand so tightly he winced with pain.  Quickly Tom
appeared and using a skill learned from participating in a few too
many bar fights, quickly and efficiently began hustling them out of
the holodeck.

"What are you doing?" the Doctor hissed.

"Saving your butts," Tom replied with the famous Paris grin fixed on
his face, "both of you keep quiet and follow my lead. Tuvok's Security
goons will be here any minute and I'm not letting either of you get
thrown in the Brig." B'Elanna brought up the rear, clutching the arm
of an unsteady former Borg. Turning the full force of her Klingon
glare on the crowd, the engineer's dared anyone to try and accompany
them.

As soon at they reached an empty corridor Tom released his grip on
Harry and the Doctor.  The EMH promptly turned on Harry, jabbing a
finger at his chest, "I trusted you Ensign," he spat out, "and I come
back to find you pawing her."

"He was not pawing me," Seven informed her date, "if I understand your
inference, I was the one pawing him." Her words were spoken in her
usual crisp tones, the effect being marred by the unconscious swaying
of her body.

The Doctor's eyes opened wide in recognition, "You're drunk!" he
accused her.

"Yes," Seven agreed amiably, "my cortical functions have been
impaired."

His eyes snapping with anger, the Chief Medical Officer turned back to
Harry, "I told you not to let her drink!"

"But I-" Harry began.

"Doc," Tom spoke up, "it's over. Why don't we just leave before things
get ugly."

"It's too late for that," the EMH informed him. "It was too late when
the Most Upstanding Young Ensign in Starfleet decided to see just how
far he could get with her!"

"It wasn't like that," Harry tried to explain.

The Doctor raged on, "You think I don't know what you're doing? You
think we didn't see you following her for months like a puppy with his
tongue hanging out. She didn't want you then, so you think you can
just get her drunk and take advantage of her? She doesn't understand
things like that, but I do."

"I do understand!" Seven retorted.

"Shut up!" the Doctor barked at her.

"Don't talk to her like that!" Harry shouted, moving to stand between
the Doctor and Seven.

Icy calm replaced the Doctor's rage, "Don't you even presume to tell
me how to act towards Seven. We have a relationship together.
Something you never had." A smug smile of malice settled over his
features, "Do I need to remind you Ensign that You-Were-Never-A-
Candidate?" he asked throwing Seven's words back in his face.

Harry flinched as though struck. Taking a deep breath, he glanced
quickly at Seven, squared his shoulders, then looked away and moved to
leave.

Seven called after him, "Ensign, I never repeated our conversation in
Astrometrics."

The full force of realization hit Harry. He turned to look at his best
friend, "You?" he asked. His question was answered as he saw the flush
of embarrassment on his friend's face

"Har," Tom began with a hesitant chuckle, "I didn't think it was a big
deal."

Harry spat out, "It's never a big deal when it's me, isn't that right
Tom?" he gripped the blond man's arm tightly. "It's only Harry, it's
just a joke.  I trusted you," he said, the pain of betrayal etching on
his features, "You're supposed to be my friend."

His friend shook his head, trying to ease the situation. "Come on
Harry," he began gently, "you know you're my best friend."

A bitter smile crossed his face, "Friends shouldn't have to explain
what is on and off the record." Shaking with suppressed anger he
pressed his friend up against the bulkhead, Tom's eyes widening in
surprise.  "So what happened Tom? Did you and the Doctor have a good
laugh about it?  I bet it was pretty funny right?"

B'Elanna moved forward placing her hand on Harry's shoulder,
"Starfleet," she said gently, "Let him go. The only one that is
allowed to kick Tom Paris' ass is me.  If he did what you're saying,
it was wrong and you're right to be angry."

Harry looked at her, closing his eyes as though struggling for
control. He released his grip, moving away from Tom and the others.

Tom moved closer, "Harry, buddy, let me explain."

"No!" Harry snapped, holding up his hands. "Right now, nothing you say
is going to matter." He closed his eyes for a moment, "Right now, I
need to go back to Sandrine's and talk to Marin."

"She's not there," the Doctor informed him smugly, "she got on the
turbolift when I got off, looking extremely upset. I advise you to
locate your date and apologize, profusely."

Coldly, Harry retorted, "I don't need your advice and, it was-"

"Not a date," Seven finished for him.

They shared a glance, then Harry took a breath appearing calmer, "I
know what I have to do."  He then tapped his combadge asking,
"Computer, location of Ensign Jenkins?"

:::Ensign Jenkins is in her quarters:::

"I have to go," Harry announced. He looked at them all, his eyes
lingering on Seven, "I'm sorry," he said helplessly and left. They
silently watched him leave the corridor and enter the turbolift.

Seven looked at Tom, "Why does he need to speak to her?"

B'Elanna turned angry eyes on her, "Because Harry is a good guy and
she didn't deserve to be treated like that!"

"It's true she didn't deserve that treatment," The Doctor conceded.
Then turning to his date he said, "Seven we're going to Sickbay and
neutralize the synthahol in your system." He lay his hand firmly on
her arm to guide her.

She jerked away, "I do not need to go to Sickbay, I will return to
Cargo Bay two and regenerate!"

"Fine!" he snapped, "I hope you think about what happened tonight. I
believe you owe someone an apology." Turning smartly the Doctor left
with his head held high.

B'Elanna turned to Tom, "Are you okay?" she asked, concern evident in
her voice.

"I'm fine," he said, rubbing his shoulder, "surprised more than
anything. I didn't expect that from Harry. I didn't mean..."

"I know," she nodded. "Let's go back to my quarters, we'll talk there.
You go on ahead and call the turbolift."

"B'Elanna?" he asked softly.

"Don't worry. I won't lay a hand on her," she said. She pushed him
playfully and he nodded and smiled softly.

B'Elanna finally turned to the woman standing alone. Crossing her arms
over her chest she asked, "Was this what you wanted?

"Lieutenant?" Seven asked, puzzled by the question.

"You decided you're going to going to what? Act like a human female?
Get drunk? See what it's like to flirt? Play with people's emotions?"
the Engineer demanded.

"That was not my intention," Seven said, "I was-"

"I don't care what your intentions were!" B'Elanna cut her off.
"People were hurt by your actions tonight. Do you understand?" she
growled. "Harry was hurt. The Doctor was hurt. Tom was hurt. And
Jenkins was hurt. Is this what you wanted?" without waiting for an
answer she walked away.

Seven stood in the now empty corridor, her eyes glistening, "That was
not what I wanted."

---

Seven of Nine stood in Astrometrics, watching the data from the
previous nights sensor sweep flow across the screen.  Her fingers flew
over the console as she processed that data together with the current
information into one report.  The sound of the Astrometrics doors
swishing open alerted her to the entrance of one angry Chief Engineer.

"Seven, do you have the output data yet!" B'Elanna demanded, striding
into Astrometrics.

"Not as yet," came the cool reply.  "I am downloading the daily sensor
report and information that Commander Chakotay requested."

"You knew I needed that information by this afternoon.  We're going to
lose Astrometrics any time now," B'Elanna seethed.

A flash of annoyance crossed Seven's usually stoic features, "I am
fully aware that Astrometrics will be shut down shortly.  However, as
you are no doubt aware the other information takes first priority."

"Stupid, idiotic war games.  Taking up a lot of valuable time that
could be spent working on the engines," the Chief Engineer muttered.

"Perhaps you should take up your grievances with the Captain or
Commander Chakotay?" Seven observed with smug superiority.

"Excuse me?" B'Elanna demanded in disbelief.

"I said that perhaps-"

"I heard you!" was the response.  Holding up one hand, the dark haired
woman continued, "I'm giving you one warning.  If you know what's good
for you, shut up now.  I still haven't gotten over that little stunt
you pulled last night."

Seven looked down at the console, removing one data PADD and inserting
another. She tapped in a series of commands and began the download
sequence.  Without looking up she stated, "Lieutenant, you are in
error."

"What now?" B'Elanna demanded, looking up at the ceiling as though
thinking, 'give me strength.'

Standing even taller, the former Borg said succinctly, "You called the
events of last night a stunt.  That would imply that I engaged in
those activities in order to draw attention to myself.  That
assumption is incorrect.  I was attempting to-"

"Shut up!" The half Klingon woman held up both hands imploringly.
"What part of shut up, do you not understand?  I don't care what your
reasons were.  You hurt people I care about, that's all the matters to
me."  She took a deep breath and continued, "Forget it!  I'll get the
data later.  I'm getting out of here before I do something that will
get me thrown in the brig."  She marched toward the doors, her
dramatic exit marred when she thumped soundly into them. "What the
hell?  Computer open Astrometrics doors!" she commanded.

:::Unable to comply.  Security lockdown is being enforced:::

"Under whose authority?" B'Elanna demanded.

:::Authority of Captain Kathryn Janeway:::

Slapping her combadge, the Chief Engineer announced, "Torres to the
bridge."

<<This is the Captain.>>

"Captain, this is B'Elanna.  Seven and I are locked in Astrometrics.
Somebody better open this door, now!"

<<Oh shi->>

<<Mr. Paris!  Tuvok, we need to get them out of there.>>

<<I concur Captain, however the computer has begun its authorized
program.  If we attempt to over ride the commands, it will require a
minimum of three hours to restore the program.>>

<<Captain, this is the Doctor.  I've been monitoring the bridge as
usual.  I can authorize an emergency transport for them to Sickbay.>>

In Astrometrics B'Elanna rolled her eyes and Seven appeared almost
embarrassed by the Doctor's suggestion.

<<Thank you very much for your suggestion Doctor.  At the moment a
transport would be a needless waste of power.>>

<<Very well Captain.>>

<<Captain.  I think if we request the computer to perform a routine
security diagnostic on all the doors on deck eight we will be able to
open the door manually for a minute, without interrupting the
program.>>

<<Good work Harry.  How long will the diagnostic sequence take?>>

<<Approximately twenty minutes.>>

<<Get started right away.>>

<<Aye Captain.>>

<<B'Elanna?  Seven?  You should be out of there soon, do you
understand?>>

"Yes, Captain," they both replied.

<<Very good.  We'll alert you if there is a change in the estimated
time.  This is the Captain, out>>

The two women studied each other for a long minute.  Finally B'Elanna
said firmly,  "For the sake of my sanity and your health, I think we
should avoid conversation and just wait until Harry gets the damn door
open.  You stay at your workstation and download the data and keep
quiet.  Do you understand?"

"I understand, " Seven responded coolly.  "The information should take
approximately thirteen minutes to download."

"Fine," the half Klingon said crisply, as she surveyed the room.  "I'm
going to get myself a.."

"Lieutenant?"

Through clenched teeth the Chief Engineer hissed, "There isn't a
replicator in here."

"That is correct.  It was removed when we required additional power
for the Astrometrics sensors.  One is located in the corridor."

"That doesn't do me any good does it?" B'Elanna retorted, "Since I'm
struck in here with you."  Crossing her hands over her chest she began
talking aloud to herself, "The first afternoon and evening I've had
off in ages, and it's shot to hell!  I find out that Tom and I are not
needed for the War Games, great. All I have to do to call it a day is
get the Engineering data over to Chakotay and I'm off to enjoy a nice
evening.  But no, instead I'm stuck in here listening to an arrogant
Borg and my stomach growl."

Something almost a smirk, curved the blond woman's lips, "You require
nourishment?"

"A brilliant observation.  I didn't eat anything for breakfast and I
was going to have lunch when I left here.  But I can't because-"

"You are stuck here with me," the former Borg interjected.  "You do
not need to repeat your remarks.  I am as aware of our circumstances
are you are.  I may have a solution for your problem.  As I was not
certain when replicators would go offline due to the Tactical
Maneuvers I replicated some nutritional supplement bars and liquid for
myself.  They are in the cabinet to your right," she pointed.  Then
added as though reciting, "Please help yourself."

"You're joking right?"

"There is nothing humorous about our conversation."

"I don't want anything from you," B'Elanna spat out.

"I understand.  You may reimburse me for the nutritional supplement
bar at your convenience."

"Fine I will," the Chief Engineer said, striding to the cabinet and
removing the two foil wrapped supplement bars and a metallic carafe.
"Here take this," she ordered.

"I do not require nutrition at this time."

"Eat it and shut up," B'Elanna replied, sitting down on the step.  "I
didn't see any cups so we'll have to drink straight from the pitcher."

"That is not sanitary."

"I'm sure I'll live," the half Klingon retorted, striping the wrapper
off her bar and taking a bite.  She chewed, swallowed and then said
accusingly to the woman who had just sat down a few steps from her,
"Vanilla?"

"You do not care for vanilla?" Seven asked, taking a small bite and
chewing thoroughly.

B'Elanna took a drink from the pitcher before continuing her tirade,
"There are what, two dozen flavors of supplement bars in the
replicators and you choose vanilla?"

"There are twenty-eight flavors to choose from," Seven said, reaching
for the pitcher and carefully sipping from it.  She then continued,
"However when you express no flavor preference the replicators
automatically defaults to vanilla.  Flavor is irrelevant."

"Of course it is," B'Elanna muttered.  Studying the woman across from
her she asked, "Why did you even bother to replicate supplement bars?"
Taking another bite, she continued, "I know that the Doctor is not
going to be needed for the War Games, aren't you guys going to get
together tonight and, I don't know, have him replicate more clothes
for you to try on?" she said maliciously.

"Why does the Doctor designing clothing for me irritate you to such an
extent?"

"I guess because I hate seeing the Doctor treat you like his own
personal Barbie doll.  Its demeaning even for someone like you."

Obviously puzzled by the comment, Seven asked, "A Barbie doll?  I am
not familiar with that term."

With a grimace B'Elanna explained, "Its one of those 20th Century
things Tom knows so much about.  He explained to me one night when we
were laughing at that blue and gray gymnastics leotard you were
wearing and had the nerve to call a uniform."

Obviously surprised by the remark, Seven asked, "You and Ensign Paris
were laughing at me?"

"Yes, Seven we were laughing at you and we're not the only ones
either.  The Doctor seems to be living out some strange male fantasy
by dressing you like that."

"My attire is functional; that is all I require.  Fashion is
irrelevant."

"Right, that's why you've been turning up in all the colors of the
rainbow," B'Elanna said with a snort.  "I don't know why you didn't
just stick with that brown thing you were wearing, at least that one
was unobtrusive."

"I merely wished to interject some color into my wardrobe.  I have
noted that other crewmembers when choosing off duty wear frequently
choose colorful clothing.  The Doctor designed the actual uniform."

"Why do you let him get away with that?" the half Klingon demanded,
"God knows you argue enough with everyone else, but you let the Doctor
order you around like...I don't know.  You must really like him I
guess," she said with a helpless shrug.

"I care for the Doctor.  He is my friend and mentor.  He is proud of
me and wishes me to make the most of my appearance in public."

"Kind of like the prize poodle at the dog show," B'Elanna observed.
"But I guess if it's all right with you to be treated like that it's
none of my business."

"It is not all right," Seven said unexpectedly.  She focused her eyes
on Astrometrics screen and admitted, "Sometimes he forces me to do
things that I do not wish to do."

B'Elanna's eyes widened in disbelief, hesitantly she said, "Look
Seven, I don't know anything about your and the Doctor's sex life.  I
don't want to know, believe me.  But I do know that you shouldn't let
anyone make you do something that you're not comfortable with."

A pair of cold blue eyes turned to her, "I was referring to his trying
to force me to participate in recreational activities that I have no
interest in, Talent Night for example.  The Doctor and I have never
copulated," she added bluntly.

"Oh, well, I see," her companion muttered, embarrassed by her
assumption.  "Um, I know that when Tom and I started seeing each other
he made me do things that I didn't really want too.  But I ended up
enjoying some of them.  And it was nice spending time with him,
getting to know each other," she ended awkwardly.

"Ensign Paris showed great patience when he began pursuing you
romantically," Seven stated.

"Yes, I guess he did," she answered with a smile that quickly turned
into a frown, "how did you know?"

"The Doctor informed me, when I questioned aspects of our affiliation.
He has stated that he is willing to wait until I feel comfortable with
him before engaging in a sexual relationship."

"Well, that's big of him," B'Elanna said sarcastically.

"Is it?" Seven asked inquiringly.

"I was being sarcastic."

Seven nodded, "The Doctor has also explained the enhancements he has
made to his program, they provide him greater size and stamina in
comparison to human males.  In addition, he has programmed himself for
multiple techniques."

B'Elanna winced at the thought, "I wish he'd stop messing around with
his program.  Last time he did that he...never mind."

"Lieutenant?  You were going to elaborate on that statement?"

She shook her head and then recalled, "A couple of years ago, the
Doctor made a few enhancements to this program that caused a systems
failure."

"I am aware of that occurrence," Seven acknowledged.

"Yeah, well he did a few things to me when he was affected that made
me more than a little uncomfortable with him.  After we got him back
to his normal self, it took a few months before I could even let him
examine me without flinching.  The thought of anything more makes
me..." B'Elanna's voice trailed off, "well you get the picture."

"I do," Seven acknowledged, "more than you realize."  Her eyes
flickered with uncertainly as they met B'Elanna's, "Two days ago I
reported to Sickbay after damaging my shoulder playing Velocity with
the Captain.  After the Doctor repaired the tissue, he asked me if I
wanted him to 'kiss it and make it better'," Seven appeared to shudder
slightly.  "I told him that was not necessary.  My reaction appeared
to bother him."

B'Elanna pulled her hands through her hair, with a roll of her eyes
she said, "Some women would think that was sweet."

"The Doctor pointed that out."

With a sly smile the Engineer added, " Of course some women would like
the idea of all those enhancements too."

"He pointed that out also," Seven repeated with a nod, "however I find
myself unaffected by the information."

Crossing her arms over her chest, B'Elanna said hesitantly, "Look
Seven. You're still pretty new to this humanity stuff.  Maybe your
orientation is um, different.  Maybe you should think about talking to
Donna and Sue, they've been together for a while and-"

Seven cut her off, "I am aware that my sexual orientation has been the
topic of discussion or rather 'gossip' aboard Voyager.  'And' that we
have several same sex affiliations on the ship.  That is of no concern
to me.  I am attracted to a male," she paused, adding softly,
"However, it does not happen to be the Doctor."

B'Elanna looked blankly at her for a moment, then realization clicked
in, "Oh no."

"Lieutenant?"

Abruptly, the half Klingon woman stood and began to pace, without
looking at her, "I said no!  You can't do this."

"Why are you needlessly expending energy?  We are carrying on a
conversation. It is my understanding that it is polite to face someone
you are conversing with."

"Don't you even presume to tell me what's rude.  You don't want me to
face you right now.  Trust me on this."

Puzzled by the Lieutenant's response Seven questioned her, "Why are
you upset? I have not informed you of the person I am interested in."

"What?  Do you think I'm stupid?  You think I don't know its Harry?"
the Chief Engineer asked with disgust.

"That is correct," the blond woman said with a note of surprise, "you
do not believe that Ensign Kim would wish to form a romantic
affiliation with me?"

"I didn't say that," B'Elanna said continuing her pacing.  "Why Harry
now?"

"Because holograms have no scent," Seven said as though admitting a
fault.

B'Elanna stopped in her tracks, struck by the unexpected comment, "Are
you going somewhere with this?"

"I am.  I have given this matter a great deal of thought in the last
few weeks," she answered, placing her hands on her lap and facing the
other woman squarely.  "When I was severed from the Collective I had
to familiarize myself with many new sensations.  The most difficult
was individual thought, but the minor ones also proved to be
unnerving.  The consumption of food, the elimination of waste," she
said, her lips curling with disgust.  "But one I found most irrelevant
was scent."

"The Borg have no need for scent.  The regeneration alcove eliminates
all traces of perspiration or soil.  There is no need for cosmetics or
perfumed preparations of any kind."  Seven stopped for a moment,
appearing to consider her next words carefully, "I experienced a type
of sensory overload when I began to try to differentiate every
individual's personal scent."  She sat even straighter and continued,
"The Doctor was and has been most helpful to me.  I felt comfortable
with him, he even seemed to consider these sensations as frivolous and
inefficient as I did," Seven said with a hint of a smile.

"I bet he did," B'Elanna said with a slight sneer.  "But you have to
know that as much as the Doctor puts down all our little
'inefficiencies' he would give anything to be able to experience them
don't you?"

"I was not aware that other people understood that."

"I've known for a while.  In a way, I guess you could say that I'm the
Doctor's doctor, so I've spent a lot of time with him.  I know that a
lot of his little put downs about us are really a kind of sour
grapes."

"Sour grapes?"

"Forget about that," B'Elanna waved off her question, "get back to the
scent thing.  That I can understand."

Seven stood, fingering some buttons on the console before her, "On the
holodeck olfactory sensors in the internal grid provide scent so that
we can smell a rose for instance."

"I know that, I'm an Engineer," B'Elanna snorted, "go on."

"Ensign Kim was the first person on the ship that I spent extensive
time with. It took us seven weeks to set up Astrometrics."  Her
usually stoic expression softened slightly as she remembered those
days almost two years earlier.  "He was most helpful to me.  I realize
now that he was very patient with my questions and ignorance of
certain subjects.  I knew that he was interested in pursuing a
romantic affiliation even though he denied it."  She paused, focusing
her uncertain gaze on the woman facing her.  "At the time I did not
understand the importance of relationships.  I was curious because of
all I'd read in the databases and wanted first hand experience, but I
did not...understand why people needed them."

B'Elanna regarded her with suspicion, "And you think you do now?"

"I believe so.  But I found some of the emotions that I experienced to
be unsettling.  I was not comfortable with them," she admitted with
something approaching embarrassment.

"That makes sense.  Something as important as this should make you
feel uncertain, it's," B'Elanna paused, and then shrugged, "I guess
you'd say it's human to feel that way."

The ex-Borg picked up a PADD placing it in the console and began
downloading information.  The action seemed to comfort her and she
continued, "Ensign Kim's scent was intriguing and I found myself
standing and working closer to his person in order to examine it.  I
was endeavoring to break down the individual fragrance components so
as to-"

"Stop it," B'Elanna commanded her.  "Just stop it.  You invaded
Harry's personal space like nobodies business.  You liked the way he
smelled, it did something for you, I'm half Klingon I understand that.
Don't try to justify it by saying it was for scientific purposes,
please."

Seven's eyes widened in surprise and a slight smile crossed her lips,
she nodded, "Being near his person, pleased me.  His scent pleased me.
I found myself alternatively interested and then uncomfortable with my
body's response.   A look of recognition crossed B'Elanna's features,
"I think I know what you mean."

"I find that difficult to believe."

"Tell me about it," the half Klingon agreed with a grimace.  Looking
down she continued, "Sometimes your body sends you signals that you
don't want to deal with.  When I first came on Voyager and saw Tom
again I wanted to hate him.  As far as I was concerned he was a
Starfleet brat and a traitor to the Maquis." She smiled slightly and
added, "I found out later that I was wrong about the traitor part, he
actually saved us.  But I still thought he was a smug, smirking,
arrogant jerk and a-"

"Pig?" Seven interjected.

"Exactly," B'Elanna agreed with a fond smile of remembrance.  "But as
much as I wanted to hate him, I couldn't.  I would be standing by him
and catch a whiff of his scent and I still felt this...thing," she
finished weakly.  Pressing a fist against her stomach, she continued,
"This feeling..."

Seven's eyes widened with interest as she asked, "An unsettled feeling
that is both exciting and uncomfortable?"

"Yeah," the other woman agreed, "I mean here was this guy that was a
liar, a drunk 'and' a traitor and all I wanted to do was breath him in
and..."

"Touch his body," Seven finished her statement.

"Yeah," B'Elanna admitted with a sly smile, "well, something like
that."

With a nod of understanding, the former Borg explained, "Last night
all that seemed of importance to me was that I come in contact with
Ensign Kim's person. I felt other things earlier, annoyance with the
Doctor, anger at Ensign Jenkins for example.  But when we were
dancing, all I wanted was to continue to feel his arms around me and
to breathe in his scent."  Seven licked her suddenly dry lips, her
eyes seemed unfocused as she continued, "I felt...my body felt..."

"What?" B'Elanna asked cautiously.

Seven looked at the other woman, "I experienced sexual arousal.  I
felt an ache in my-"

Holding up a hand, B'Elanna stopped her, "I've been sexually aroused.
You don't have to explain it to me."

With a nod of understanding the former Borg, continued, "I know that I
should have felt badly for upsetting the Doctor but at the time all I
felt was anger at him for interrupting our dance."

A snort of derision came from the Chief Engineer, "I know what you
mean, I've been angry at the Doctor for interrupting Tom and I more
than a few times."

Seven nodded with understanding, "I also felt anger at his treatment
of Ensign Kim.  I was the one that instigated the situation."

"For God sakes, just call him Harry!"

"Affirmative," the blond woman agreed.  "Harry did not appear to be
functioning normally last evening.  He appeared...distant.  He did not
wish to join in the conversation and seemed more interested in the
tabletop.  It was out of character for him."

"I know," B'Elanna agreed.  "I was there.  But he wasn't interested in
the top of table.  You couldn't see it from where you were sitting, he
was staring at the Doctor's hand."

"His hand?" Seven repeated.

"His hand on yours.  Do you understand?  And he had this expression on
his face, it made me sad."

"His expression?  Did he look displeased?"

No!" B'Elanna hissed.  "He looked empty.  I've never seen him like
that before."  She crossed her hands over her chest and closed her
eyes for a moment before continuing, "Harry has always been so easy to
read.  'Harry read me like a book Kim.'  He even called himself that,
once.  I've noticed a change in him in the last few months.  Tom
thinks its good...that it means Harry's growing up. I don't, I think
it just means that he's giving up."  She shook her head sadly, "Last
night he was so controlled, his eyes were empty.  And then you danced
together and I saw the old Harry."  She looked squarely into the blond
woman's eyes, "I thought that you were just playing with him.  Just to
see what kind of reaction you could get. I didn't think that you..."

"In a way you are correct," Seven admitted.  "At first I wanted to
provoke some kind of response from him.  I wanted to see him smile at
me, not Ensign Jenkins."

"Jenkins never made the slightest dent in Harry's heart," B'Elanna
said with a halfhearted chuckle.  "The last person who did was-"

"The Varro female," Seven coldly finished her statement with a sneer
of disdain.

"Well, that got a rise out of you," the brunette observed smugly.
"Don't get me wrong, I'm with you on that one."

"You did not approve of his affiliation?" Seven asked with interest.

"Not because of the sex thing mind you, Harry's been alone for a long
time, I understood that part.  It was all the crap she didn't bother
to tell him about."  B'Elanna continued mockingly, "Oh, by the way,
'Har-ri' did I forget to tell you that we carry a virus that's going
to make you glow?  Then it will make you go insane, rebel against the
Captain and steal a shuttle for a joyride, leaving a formal reprimand
on your record.  And before it leaves your system you're going to be
sick as a dog.  While we're at it, did I mention that I'm a part of a
group of terrorists that are attempting to destroy our colony by the
use of sabotage?"  A low growl erupted from the half Klingon women's,
"I wanted to bash the little wench's face in."  She shook her head,
"All of that for a fling."

"It was not a fling," the blond observed with quirked brow, "Ensign,
Harry...said he was in love with her."

Placing her hands on her hips in an unconscious imitation of the
Captain, B'Elanna corrected her, "Harry hadn't been with anyone in
years.  Here's someone that thinks he's the greatest thing since the
warp core and he's all over her.  Poor guy never learned the
difference between lust and love.  He never had to," she admitted
thoughtfully.  "You spent a lot of time with him when he was getting
through the withdrawal part of it.  Didn't he ever confide in you?"

Seven repositioned her hands on her lap, "I was concerned for his well
being. We discussed our work, which seemed to divert him from thinking
about his discomfort, he did not confide his feelings about her to
me."  She looked across to the woman facing her, her blue eyes
obviously pained, "I do not believe that Ensign Kim thought I would
understand his feelings."

"He was probably right about that," B'Elanna observed wryly.

The former Borg's expression hardened, "I wished to understand!  I
wished to learn why a person who previously had had an exemplary work
record would sacrifice everything he had worked for, for the sake of a
romantic affiliation."  Squaring her shoulders she added, "So I began
to compile information on interpersonal relationships."

B'Elanna froze, her eyes widening with realization, "Yes!  It was
right about then that I noticed you slinking around with a PADD.  I
thought it was just my imagination at first."

"It was not your imagination," the blond woman confirmed her
suspicion.  "When I began I compiling a list of all the mating couples
on Voyager to study.  I realized that I had not have sufficient time
to observe all the couples thoroughly and decided to concentrate on
your relationship with Ensign Paris."

B'Elanna's nostrils flared as she hissed, "Of course, why annoy
everyone?"

"I did not concentrate on your relationship to purposely irritate
you."

"What?" she demanded, leaning forward, "You actually had a reason for
choosing me and Tom to spy on?"

"I did," Seven regarded the woman calmly.  "When I first began my
study, I simply wanted to understand what would motivate a person to
choose a romantic affiliation over their responsibilities.  I began to
understand that people do not wish to be alone, that they derive
pleasure from sharing their lives with a chosen mate.  I wished to
experience this pleasure."

She paused, as though collecting her thoughts, "From my previous
experiences with the crew I understood that I was not well thought of
and considered difficult to work with.  As you observed, I am rude and
my personality makes uneasy.  Many crewmembers do not 'like' me.  I
determined that if I wished to participate in an affiliation it
behooved me to study someone with a similar reputation."

"Wait a minute!" B'Elanna demanded holding up a hand.  "Are you saying
you picked us to study, because you decided that if someone as mean,
nasty and downright unpleasant as me could find a mate that you might
have a chance too?"

A wary expression crossed the icy blondes face as she understood the
implications of the Lieutenants statement, "I-"

Unexpectedly B'Elanna chuckled, "You know what?  I'm going to let that
go. Sometimes I wonder about that myself."

"Thank you," Seven said with surprise.  "I did not intend my
observations to give you further cause to dislike me."

B'Elanna waved her hand dismissively.  "Hey, I hated you a long time
ago, that was just another nail in your coffin.  First, I just hated
you because you had been Borg and felt no guilt about assimilating
millions of people.  Then I hated your arrogant, know it all attitude.
But the topper was the way you treated Harry."

"I treated Ensign Kim in a professional manner," was the cool
response.

"Bullshit!  You took every opportunity to kick him in the teeth!"

"I never kicked Ensign Kim in the teeth.  I did strike him twice but
I-"

"Enough!" B'Elanna cut her off.  "Do you ever listen to yourself?  Do
you ever sit back and see what you do?" she paused, raking her fingers
through her already disheveled hair.  "You yourself admitted that you
liked the way he smelled so much that you took every opportunity to
get close to him."

"That is true," Seven admitted.

"Tom told him to back off.  That you didn't understand emotions or
feelings, that all he was doing by trying to have a relationship with
you was hurting himself.  But that's not Harry's way he never learned
how to protect his heart. We love him like the little brother we never
had, and we wanted to shield him, but there was nothing we could do. I
watched you too, you know," B'Elanna said unexpectedly.

"You were observing me?"

"Yeah, I was.  I saw the way you acted with Harry, he was like an
experiment to you.  You pulled him close to see his reactions, then
you pushed him away when he showed you how he felt.  I hated you for
the hurting him like that.  Tom couldn't understand why Harry would
keep wasting his time with a cold, emotionless woman that would give a
Vulcan a run for his money.  He thought Harry should just suck it up,"
she said with a grimace, "that there were lots of women on board that
would be interested in him and he should just get on with his life. He
didn't want to understand that that's not the way Harry is."

B'Elanna paused, taking a breath to steady herself, "Until you came
along Harry never really knew what it was like to not have his
feelings returned," the half-Klingon's face softened slightly as she
continued. "See Tom and I, we know about things like that.  We help
each other learn about caring and...things," she said with
embarrassment.  "Harry grew up surrounded by love, his parents adored
him, then he met Libby when he was barely twenty and they fell in
love, he was always surrounded by unconditional love.  Do you know how
rare that is?"

Seven stared for a moment, then haltingly said, "I imagine that it is
highly improbable."

B'Elanna snorted, "Improbable?  It's damn near impossible!  And it was
that love that made him a special person."

"Explain," Seven breathed

"Harry accepts people exactly as they are."

"That is special?"

"You just don't get it, do you?" B'Elanna demanded.  "When Tom and I
first came on board we were outcasts!  At least I still had my friends
from the Maquis, Tom had no one, everyone hated him, even me," she
admitted.  "But Harry didn't care, no one was going to tell him who 
to be friends with.  That he would accept a couple of misfits like us 
as friends meant a lot to us, it still does."  She took a breath and
stared into the clear blue eyes facing her, "Did Harry ever try to
change you?  Did he ever try to make you act or dress a certain way
like the Doctor does or think a certain way like the Captain does?"

"No," Seven admitted, "he explained why certain methods of conduct
were acceptable but he never attempted to force me to adapt to his
standards."

"Exactly.  Tom's the same way," the brunette continued, "he lets me be
me, Klingon temper and...and everything.  It's a special gift that not
everyone is lucky enough to get."  With an expression almost of
sadness on her formerly fierce features, B'Elanna studied the subdued
woman facing her, "You could have had that you know.  You could have
had someone that loved you unconditionally." Unexpectedly she asked,
"You know what's wrong with you?"

"Beyond all the faults you have already pointed out?" Seven asked
solemnly.

"Yes, besides all that other stuff," B'Elanna said, waving away their
previous conversation.  "What's wrong with you is that you never
thought Harry was good enough for you.  When the truth of the matter
is you're not good enough for Harry."

Shocked surprise crossed the former Borg's face, "You do not believe
that I am worthy of Harry's attentions?"

"No, I don't," the half-Klingon replied, "I never thought you were
'worthy' of his attentions.  That's why it bothered me so much to see
him mooning after you.  Harry deserves someone that will love him
unconditionally, not someone who sees him as a flawed human specimen.
You made your bed Seven, you picked the person who you thought fit all
that stupid criteria you dreamed up, now you have to live with it."

Unexpectedly the former Borg's features flushed pink, "I made an error
in judgment.  Why am I not allowed to rectify it?"

"What do you think your going to do?" B'Elanna demanded, "Date the
Doctor and then sneak over to Harry's afterwards for a...whatever?"

Seven's eyes fluttered closed as she admitted, "That is out of the
question. Of course."

"Yes, it is," B'Elanna said.  "I know that there are a lot of guys out
there that would love to have a no strings attached relationship, but
Harry's not one of them and despite all his faults the Doctor deserves
better too."

"You believe that I should tell the Doctor that I wish to end our
affiliation?"

"Your obviously not happy with your present situation."

"That is true," Seven conceded.  "I was much more comfortable with the
Doctor's presence before we began our romantic affiliation."  She
added softly, "I do not wish to damage the Doctor, he has been most
patient with me.  He has always been my friend, even when I did not
know I needed one."  Her eyes glistened under the unyielding lighting,
as she struggled with her emotions.

In a surprisingly gentle voice, her companion said, "Sometimes for one
person to be happy another person will be hurt, it's a fact of life."

"He will be alone," Seven breathed.  "I know what it is like to be
alone.  It is painful," she added, bringing her hands up to her face.

B'Elanna swallowed, stuck by the unexpected emotions emanating from
the person she had formerly thought cold and impassive.  "The Doctor
will recover, he's gotten over much worse things than this.  Can you
go on with your relationship the way it is?  Maybe you need to talk to
each other about it, things could change you know.  Let the Doctor
know that you don't want him telling you what to do all the time.  But
I think until you work things out you should stay away from Harry.  It
will only confuse you more."

Seven looked up with tears hovering in her eyes, "I do not want to
stay away from Harry.  Now that I have acknowledged these feelings I
wish to explore them, but the Doctor, I..."

"Listen to me," B'Elanna said with mock severity, "you can't cry.
That's an order.  You're ruining my image of you."  Awkwardly, she
reached out and patted the young woman's shoulder twice.

A faint smile relaxed Seven's features as she wiped her eyes.
Sniffling slightly, she said, "I would not wish that to happen."

"Good.  Now you need to make some decisions."

"I am aware of that," the younger woman acknowledged, wiping her eyes.

Suddenly they heard the swish of the Astrometrics doors opening.
Turning they saw the Doctor rush anxiously into the room, obviously
alarmed at the sight of his beloved crouched down on the steps with
her hands over her face.  Tenderly he asked, "Seven are you all right?
Lieutenant, what did you do to her?" he demanded.

"She'll be fine Doctor," B'Elanna said, waving him back.  "Give her a
minute to get herself together."  She glanced at the open door again,
smiling softly at Harry who stood watching the proceedings.  He gave a
slight wave with the hand holding the hydrospanner that had opened the
door.

"Thanks for your help Harry," she said.

Seven rose fluidly to her feet, looking over at Harry also she
swallowed before saying, "Yes, thank you for your assistance Ensign."

"You're welcome," Harry said.  "Are you okay?" he asked gently.

"I am fine," she said.

"You don't look fine," the Doctor spoke up.  "Your face is flushed and
your eyes are red.  I'm taking you to Sickbay for a thorough
examination.  That's an order."

"Go with him," B'Elanna said to her, "just remember what we talked
about."

"I will," Seven acknowledged her, allowing the Doctor to take her by
the arm, hustling her into the corridor and onto the Turbolift.

B'Elanna watched the doors close then turned to Harry.  "Starfleet we
need to talk, now!"

---

Tuvok's War Games/Tactical Maneuvers were in full swing.  Voyager's
corridors buzzed with activity as crewmembers went about their various
tasks.  Those lucky enough to not have a role in the war games had
been told to stay in their quarters for the duration.

The crewmembers on Deck six had unexpected musical accompaniment
during their duties.  Harry Kim's quarters were located directly
across from the emergency Security Station on that deck and the
lilting strains of his clarinet drifted across the corridor, soothing
the feverish minds of those people participating in the evening's
activities.  The events of the night before were common gossip by that
time and the security detail were relieved to hear the lighthearted
music, to them it meant that Harry had recovered from his near
altercation with the Doctor, as well as his unexpected encounter with
Seven of Nine.  Hearing the soothing sounds coming from Harry's
quarters they thought that he was all right.  They were wrong.

The truth of the matter was that if Tuvok and his entire Security
force had stormed into his quarters with phasers drawn, demanding to
know the name of the piece he was playing Harry would have been at a
complete loss.  In actuality, while Harry Kim's body was still in his
quarters, seated in his favorite practice chair, his fingers tapping
the clarinet keys with consummate precision, his mind was elsewhere.
He was listening again to conversations he had had last night and
today.  He was listening to the words of a song that seemed to be
saying the words he couldn't.  He was holding Seven in his arms and
they were dancing.

---
Crazy how it feels tonight
Crazy how you make it all right love
You crush me with the things you do
I do for you anything too.
---

"You don't have to apologize Harry.  You didn't do anything wrong.  I
was silly, I thought that after you'd been with that Tal girl and now
that the Doctor and Seven were together, that maybe I had a chance,
but I saw the way you two were last night.  There's something there,
between you.  I saw the way Seven was looking at you, she feels
something for you.  And I saw you with her, I think you're still in
love with her, or maybe you're in love with her again, whatever.  You
have special feelings for her."

---
Lovely lady
I am at your feet
God I want you so badl
I wonder this could tomorrow be?
---

"I'm sorry buddy.  That 'not a candidate' thing just came up, after
she got hurt and you stopped by Sickbay to see how she was doing.  The
Doc got kind of concerned that you might still be interested.  I
figured you'd moved on so I told him about what had happened, so he
wouldn't worry.  I didn't think it was a big, um, anyway B'Elanna told
me that some friends are more special than others and that sometimes I
take you for granted, a little.  You should have told me that you
didn't like the idea of Seven seeing the Doctor.  I'm not saying that
the Doc shouldn't be with Seven, I'm just saying that I'm your friend
first and that it was out of line for me do what I did.  And then
B'Elanna told me that if I can't keep my big mouth shut, I'd better
use it for other things, but that's between me and her."

---
Lovely lady
Let me drink you please
I won't spill a drop I promise you
Lying under this spell you cast on me.
---

"Listen to me Starfleet.  I just spent twenty minutes talking to one
confused Borg.  It's pretty disconcerting to think one thing for a
couple of years and find out that you might be wrong, so just bare
with me on this.  I know I used to tease you for falling all over
Seven, but that was because I thought she was playing you for a fool.
Well, she might not have been, exactly.  Something is going on in that
superior brain of hers, that she's having a hard time understanding.
The thing is, her Borgness has admitted that she might have made a
mistake when she started seeing the Doctor.  She wants, make that
she's interested in you and she's having a having a hard time dealing
with the emotional fallout from it.  You need to talk to her.

---
Lovely lady I will treat you sweetly, adore you
I mean you crush me
It's time like these when my faith I feel
And I know how I love you.
---

"I did not realize that you and Ensign Kim were...friends."

"Perhaps you do not feel like celebrating?"

"I enjoy dancing with you Harry."

"You are watching me."

"Do you wish me to stop touching you?"

---
It's crazy I'm thinking
Just knowing that the world is round
Here I'm dancing on the ground
Am I right side up or upside down?
Is this real or am I dreaming?
---

His mind was so far removed from his body that he didn't hear his own
door chime, not once but twice.  He jumped, nearly dropping his
clarinet when he heard his combadge chirp to announce an incoming
message.

:::Seven of Nine to Ensign Kim:::

Tapping the gold and silver badge, he said breathlessly, "Kim here."

:::Ensign, open your door:::

Harry sprung to the door, quickly disengaging the privacy lock.  The
door swished open to reveal a slightly agitated former Borg.

"Are you well?" she demanded.

"I'm, I'm fine," he said quickly.  "I was just practicing and must
have...what are you doing here?" he managed to ask.

"I am dead," she announced.

He nodded with understanding at her unusual statement, "I'm sorry to
hear that. I hope you didn't suffer?"

"I did not," she replied, obviously chagrined.  "I was given no chance
of survival.  Apparently both Cargo Bays decompressed when the
supposed aliens attacked the ship.  I would have been regenerating at
the time and died instantly.  Are you also dead?" she asked in a more
amiable tone than that comment warranted.

Harry smiled, "No, I'm still alive.  I'm down on the planet with the
rest of the Senior Staff, being held for ransom.  But since Starfleet
policy is not to negotiate with terrorists, I'm sure I'll be dead
soon."

Several crewmembers ran down the corridor suddenly with compression
rifles. Ensign Ayala's head poked out from the Security Station
suddenly.  Not bothering to hide a mischievous smirk he announced in a
booming voice, "Clear the corridors immediately, this area is being
locked down."

Harry pulled Seven into his quarters and reengaged the privacy lock.
Appearing nonplussed by her sudden entrance she demanded, "Explain the
reasoning behind Commander Tuvok's Tactical Maneuvers."

Grimacing slightly, he replied, "They are a little different, I grant
you.  But basically, Tuvok thinks that Security and Engineering are
getting a little too complacent.  He programmed the scenario this way
to so that they really have to work on problems without the help of
B'Elanna's expertise or you're um," he paused.

"Assets?" Seven pronounced.

Eyes widening in surprise, he nodded, "Okay, without your assets."  He
grinned and added, "Either that or Tuvok's planning a coup."

A smile curved her lips; "I do not believe that is a possibility."

"Maybe not, " Harry acknowledged, pleased that he had made her smile.
"Seven, you still haven't told me what you're doing here."

"I wish to apologize for my actions of the previous evening."

"Apologize?" he repeated, feeling his stomach turn over, he fell
weakly into a chair at his small dining table.

"Yes.  I had a discussion with the Doctor earlier and he believes that
I owe you an apology," she explained sliding gracefully into the chair
opposite of his.

"So you think that what happened was a mistake?" Harry asked softly,
unable to meet her eyes with his own.

"I caused emotional distress to several people.  That was not my
intention. But I do not believe that what happened between us was a
mistake Harry," she said somberly, her eyes softening with
uncertainty.

He exhaled with relief, telling himself to tread lightly, "Seven what
did happen last night?"

"I presume you do not want a recounting of the actual events of last
evening?" she asked.  At his nod she continued, "I experienced many
conflicting emotions last night.  During the course of the evening I
felt surprise, jealousy, annoyance, uncertainty, excitement,
happiness, pleasure, sexual arousal, frustration, anger and finally
sadness."

Harry watched her as she related her feelings, his eyes widening as
the list grew longer and more diversified.  "That's a lot of emotions
to go through in one night."

"It was," she agreed.  "What emotions did you experience?"

"I'd say all the things you felt, I felt also.  I didn't catalog
them," he admitted.

"Of course not," she said.  "You are familiar enough with them to not
need to differentiate them."

"I guess so," he nodded.  He glanced at her, struggling with even more
emotions, "Last night was the first time I'd seen you with the Doctor
on a real date.  I knew that you and he were seeing each other, but
since I'd been on Gamma shift I hadn't actually..." He looked down at
his clenched fist, opening the fingers and laying them flat on the
table.  He continued without raising his hands.  "I had told myself
that I as long as you were happy, I'd be happy for you.  I had no
right to feel jealous of him, but I did.  It wasn't just that," he
faltered, "I hated the way he ordered you around, telling you to do
things and expecting you to just do them."  To his surprise a pale
Borg enhanced hand suddenly covered his.  Raising his eyes to meet
hers he looked inquiringly at her.

"I understand that you are uncomfortable discussing this subject," she
said softly.  "As am I.  However if we are to enter into a romantic
affiliation it is important."

Harry smiled softly, not quite sure of what he'd just heard.  "Are we
going to enter into a romantic affiliation?" he asked cautiously.

 "Do you wish to?" she asked him seriously.

He smiled playfully, pointing out, "You didn't answer my question."
Looking down at their hands he moved his slowly until their hands were
in alignment and then intertwined their fingers.

Seven closed her eyes for a brief moment, "It is intriguing how such a
simple gesture can provoke a pleasurable physical response."

Harry felt a warm wave spread through his body.  He knew that the
impossible had happened, she did have feelings for him.  A wide grin
lit his face as she responded with a soft smile of her own.

For a few moments they sat in companionable silence, finally Seven
said seriously, "Harry, at one time you had romantic feelings toward
me, is that correct?"  At his nod she continued, "I wish to know what
occurred to make you no longer desire a romantic affiliation with me."

The smile slid off his face as he moved to pull his hand away, the
sudden tightening of her fingers stopping him.  "I don't want...I mean
it's..."

"Please," she urged him.  "Please tell me what occurred."

He shook he head slightly, "I'm not sure where to begin."

"Begin at the beginning and when you get to the end stop," Seven
informed him smugly.

"Alice in Wonderland?"

"That is correct," she nodded, obviously pleased that he understood
the reference.  "It is one of Naomi Wildman's favorite books.  Now,
please continue."

He nodded then began to speak hesitantly, "It was a couple of days
after we'd left the 'Void.'  I was clearing some old PADD's and came
across the original one that I'd used when we started working on
Astrometrics," he smiled softly at the memory.  "It had all my
personal notations and everything still on it. Then I saw that the
next day was exactly one year since we'd started our work together.
You'd been a part of my life for a year."  His warm brown eyes met
hers and she smiled softly.  "I decided to contact you and ask you to
have a drink with me to celebrate our Anniversary."

"You never contacted me to join you for a beverage," his companion
pointed out.

"I know," he nodded.  He looked away from her, the feelings returning
painfully.  "I was sitting there staring at that damn PADD and
suddenly I thought to myself 'Why are you still doing this to her? She
doesn't even think that you're 'efficient' as a person.  She'll never
think that you'll be 'acceptable' as anything more.  It's 'futile' to
think she'll ever want you. Harry rubbed his eyes then looked up to
see her sitting frozen in her chair. "Seven, are you all right?"

"I am not sure," she admitted.  "It is surprising how my own words can
cause me so much pain."

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Harry choked out.  "I didn't mean to..."

Taking a shuddering breath she said, "I understand.  Please continue.
What happened after your epiphany?"

"I felt ashamed," he said simply.

Sharply she interjected, "Ashamed because you had developed feelings
for someone who was Borg?"

"No, never that," he answered honestly.  "I felt ashamed because I had
let my feelings for you get in the way of our friendship.  You'd made
it clear that we had a working relationship.  I wasn't even sure that
you knew enough about human emotions to know what I'd wanted."

"I knew," she admitted.  "I just did not understand."

Warm brown eyes fixed on hers, "I wondered," he said hesitantly.
"Sometimes you would look at me a certain way and sometimes you would
stand so close."

Somberly she admitted, "I invaded your personal space like nobodies
business."

"What?" he almost snorted with surprise.

"That is an expression that Lieutenant Torres used while we were in
Astrometrics, it means-"

"I know what it means.  It just wasn't what I expected you to say," he
said. "Anyway," he continued, "I decided that I had to put my feelings
for you aside."

"So, you simply decided it was time to move on," Seven observed
calmly.

"There was nothing simple about it," he hissed.  "You make it sound
like I just decided to cut my hair shorter or replicate a new pair of
pants!  It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do," he said,
pulling his hand back to rub his eyes tiredly.  His brown eyes ached
with pain as he looked into hers, "I knew it was for the best, and
that if we are ever going to be even friends I had to stop thinking
about you like that, but still...I missed you," he said simply.

"I decided that it would be better if we spent less time together, so
I suggested to Chakotay that it would be a good idea to cross train
other crew members to work in Astrometrics.  He agreed, I think he
knew what I was trying to do, but he still went along with it.  It was
probably easier for you not having me around so much to annoy you with
my inefficient conversation," he smiled sadly.

"You did not annoy me," Seven said.

"Like hell," he snorted.

"I did not understand your need for irrelevant conversation.  However,
after other crewmembers began to work in Astrometrics I began to
understand that I enjoyed your presence more than any other
crewmembers.  I missed you also," she said.

"You never showed it," Harry pointed out, not bothering to hide his
bitterness. "You acted just the same.  Maybe it was good, it made me
feel even more ashamed to have acted the way I did."

"I did not know how to show it.  Perhaps I did not want to at the
time," she admitted.  "I am sorry."

"Don't be," he shrugged it off.  "I just wanted you to understand that
is wasn't easy.  There were times..."he paused.  "It doesn't matter."

"It does matter," she reiterated, "please continue."

Harry took a breath, closing his eyes for a moment, "When One died,"
he began, referring to the Borg drone that Seven had come to think of
as her own child, "I wanted to be with you so much.  I knew that you
must be hurting.  I could see how much you cared for him.  That night
after my shift, I went to Cargo Bay two.  I stood in front of the
doors willing myself to walk through them."

"Why did you not enter," she breathed

"I was afraid," he admitted, resting his face in his hands.  Without
looking up he continued, "I was afraid that if I went in you would
just act like nothing was wrong and then get angry at me for assuming
that you were weak."

Seven stared at him her eyes glistening with unshed tears.  Reaching
out she gently pulled his hands away from his face and held them in
hers.  "That scenario could have come to pass," she admitted.  "I was
uncomfortable with the emotions I experienced.  Your assumption was
probably correct."

"Thanks, but I still felt ashamed.  After that I knew that I had to
pull back even more."  Ruefully he admitted, "I even convinced myself
that I had a crush on Megan Delaney."

"Ensign Delaney?" Seven repeated with surprise.  "You wished to form a
romantic affiliation with her?"

"Not really," he admitted shamefaced.

"I do not understand."

"I didn't either at the time.  I just didn't want to think about a
romantic affiliation with you.  It was a joke really."

"I find nothing humorous about it," Seven said coldly.

Harry looked into her eyes, understanding that his admission was
unexpected and possibly hurtful.  He rubbed her hands soothingly as he
explained.  "It was a joke because those feelings weren't real.  I
wanted them to be but they weren't.  I just was desperate to not feel
anything for you anymore."

"How did you come to understand that your feelings for Ensign Delaney
were not authentic?" she urged him to continue.

Studying her intent expression he asked, "Do you remember when Tom
stole the shuttle to try and stop the Monean's?"

"Of course, she responded automatically.

He smiled, "Of course.  Well then you remember that afternoon when
you, B'Elanna and I were waiting to find out what Tom's punishment
would be?" At her nod he continued, "B'Elanna and I were there first,
I didn't really expect you to show up.  We didn't know if we would
hear anything at all.  But there you were."

"I consider Ensign Paris to be a friend.  I wished to show my support
for him. Also," she began and then paused, "also, I had witnessed your
distress after the events occurred.  I wanted to show my support for
you," she admitted, actually appearing to color slightly at the
admission.

Harry smiled, "I was glad you were there, but it was hard."

"Explain."

"You were standing so close, all I had to do was just reach out," he
paused, flushed with embarrassment.  "I wanted to hold you so much I
ached."

A shadow of doubt crossed her features. "I did not mean to make my
presence painful for you."

"It wasn't your fault," he admitted.  "It just told me that I was
being stupid about Megan and that I hadn't stepped far enough away
from you.  I stopped bugging her, and started spending more time
alone."  He looked down for a moment, knowing that he needed to
continue but aware that his comments could damage what was still a
tentative relationship.  Meeting her eyes, he said slowly, "Then a few
weeks later we came across the generational ship."

Seven added coldly, "Where you met the Varro female."

"Her name is Tal."

"Her designation is irrelevant!" she spat out, pulling her hands away
before Harry could stop her.

He studied her features, he knew this women more than people realized.
He'd learned her almost imperceptible changes of expression and
understood that many times her cold retorts were her way of regaining
control of her emotions. Firmly, he emphasized, "It's relevant to me
Seven.  What happened between Tal and I was important."

Suddenly, she stood away from the table and began to stride around it.
As she moved she began to talk, "This affiliation was important enough
to cause you to risk your life and the lives of the entire crew,
possibly cause an intergalactic incident, have a letter of reprimand
placed on your record and steal a shuttle for a joyride?"

Harry watched her moving around the table with fierce determination,
almost throwing his neck out as he followed her progress.  "A
joyride?" he questioned her.

"A joyride," she repeated, her lips curling with disdain.  "It was a
term used by Lieutenant Torres this afternoon.  No doubt she learned
it from Ensign Paris.  It is a slang term from the 20th century that
means to steal an automobile or other method of transportation merely
for the purposes of pleasure without regard for ownership or
consequences."

"I see," he said.  "Seven, what the hell are you doing?"

"I am pacing.  Lieutenant Torres uses this method of movement as a way
to expel excess anger and frustration."

He watched her swift movement as he considered his next words, "Look
about me and Tal.  I admit I wasn't myself and after the virus left I
felt bad about what happened.  I'm not proud of a lot of the things I
did."

"You felt ashamed of your relationship with her," Seven observed still
moving.

"No!" he thundered.  "Your putting words in my mouth.  Some of the
actions I took to keep seeing her were wrong.  But I am not ashamed of
what happened between Tal and me."

Suddenly she stopped her movement.  She faced away from him appearing
to be study his replicator with great interest.  Her voice was
strained as she said, "You loved her."

"Yes," he admitted, taking in her rigid posture and unwillingness to
address him directly, he rose speaking softly as he approached her. "I
did.  I've loved other people also.  I loved Libby for a long time.  I
still have special feelings for her, we shared a part of our lives,
but I moved on and I don't regret it," he said coming to stand close
behind her.

Seven crossed her arms over her stomach.  Without facing him she
asked, "Did you regret developing feelings for me?"

Harry swallowed before replying, "I was sorry that letting my feelings
out like that damaged our friendship." Carefully, he slid his arms
around her allowing them to rest on hers.  She stiffened slightly, but
did not end the contract. "I never regretted caring for you Seven." He
felt a slight shift in her posture as she allowed herself to lean back
ever so slightly into his embrace.

"You did have romantic feeling for me at one time," she questioned
him, "do you believe that you could ever develop those feelings for me
again?"

He smiled, closing his eyes with relief and allowing his cheek to rest
against hers.  "I don't have to 'develop' those feelings again Seven.
If the way I feel right now is any indication they're still there or
maybe they came back. I don't know.  I don't care."

She sighed, leaning back fully into his embrace.  "I am pleased to
hear you say that."

"Hey, anything to please you," he teased her.   Harry allowed himself
to luxuriate in the unaccustomed feeling of contentment he was
experiencing. "It's amazing what can happen in twenty-four hours isn't
it?" he observed.

"It is," she agreed.  "Although I am thoroughly enjoying the feelings
generated by this embrace and I am pleased that we are going to begin
a romantic affiliation, I also feel a sense of fatigue.  It is not
logical, I regenerated for the requisite amount of hours."

He smiled, knowing that she was still too new to emotions to
understand, "I think we've both been put through the wringer and are
feeling the affects." He explained, noting her look of inquiry, "Our
emotions have been all over the place.  Sometimes mental strain is
just as exhausting as physical."

"Yes, that is a logical conclusion," she observed.

"Thank you," he smiled.  He turned her towards him, "Well, now that
we're both emotionally exhausted, I guess we need to think about what
we're going to do for the rest of the evening."

"I had hoped to copulate with you," she replied,   "However,
circumstances beyond my control have negated that idea."

He stared at her for a moment, shock rendering him dumb, finally he
blurted out, "Wait a minute, did you think that you would just come
here, we'd talk and then we'd..." his hand waved as he searched for
the right word, she supplied it.

"Copulate?"

"Yes."

"Yes."

"No!"

"No?"

"Yes, I mean no," Harry said with a shake of his head.  "Seven just
because we've cleared the air and things, that doesn't mean we can
start a relationship like that yet.  What about the Doctor?"

"I do not wish to continue a romantic affiliation with the Doctor.  I
wish to begin one with you."

"Well I appreciate that, very much.  But you still need to talk to
him, and tell him how you feel.  Let him down easy.  Right now he
still thinks that your still involved, it would be like cheating on
him.  That wouldn't be right.  I don't want to begin our relationship
with us sneaking around."

"Lieutenant Torres told me that you would not be interested in such an
arrangement," she said softly, with a touch of regret.

"Well, B'Elanna was right.  Besides, we need to get to know each other
again."

"Again?" she asked curiously.  "We never ceased to know each other."

"Yes, that's true," he admitted.  "We haven't spent very much time
together lately and well, we've missed out on a lot of stuff.  We need
to kind of talk and get to know each other again."  Harry paused, then
asked, "Seven what did you mean 'circumstances beyond your control?"

The former Borg actually appeared uncomfortable.  "It is a personal
matter," she replied, again appearing to examine his replicator.

Harry studied her for a moment, puzzled at her nonanswer.   His nimble
mind automatically suggesting and negating ideas that could cause her
to feel uncomfortable.  Then his face lit with understanding, "Seven
are you on your, I mean is this your...are you menstruating?"

Not meeting his eyes she nodded, "I apologize that I have made you
uncomfortable."

Shaking his head in bewilderment, Harry said, "I'm not uncomfortable
with it. It's a fact of life."

Surprised, she added, "The Doctor has explained that males typically
experience embarrassment when matters of this kind are discussed."

"I'm not embarrassed."

"But the Doctor said--"

"Well the Doctor is wrong," he said firmly, squelching the pang of
annoyance he felt.  "I studied biology you know.  I got very good
grades in it actually, would you like to see my test scores?" he added
sarcastically.

Seven turned to face him.  "That will not be necessary," she said
coldly.  "I appreciate that you understand the female reproductive
system.  However, you could still be uncomfortable with discussing the
topic."

"I am not uncomfortable with the topic!" he emphasized.  Taking a
breath he continued, "My mom explained all that stuff to me as soon as
I was old enough to understand."  Noting her look of uncertainty he
added with a soft smile, "Look, Libby and I lived together for almost
three years.  What do you think I did when it was her time, check
myself into a hotel for a week?  We went through it together.  I admit
that I was glad that it didn't happen to me, but I still helped her as
best I could."

Nodding with understanding his companion said thoughtfully, "I had not
considered that you would have personal experience with this subject."
Two clear blue eyes focused on him, "How did you assist her?  Did you
provide medical attention?"

Chuckling he shook his head, "No, I mean not beyond getting her the
pain relief hypos that she needed.  I just tried to make things a
little easier for her.  I knew that she felt uncomfortable and I did
what I could to make her feel better."

Tilting her head, she said firmly, "Explain."

"There's not a lot to explain.  We would stay in instead of going out,
watch holovids on the couch, snack and talk."

"And you found this pleasing?"

"Very pleasing," Harry nodded with a warm smile.  "Just being with
someone you care about is wonderful."

"I could see where that would be appealing.  What items do we require
to begin this exercise?"

He smiled at her choice of words, "Items, okay, first things first.
Since we're here we might as well replicate some snacks."

"I do not require nourishment at this time," she informed him, with an
arch of her brow implant.

Suppressing a smile, Harry tapped several commands into the console,
he knew better than to argue with her.  "That's fine," he said, "that
means there's more for me."  They heard the faint hum of the
replicator and a large, clear polymer bowl appeared, the bottom of
which contained a handful of golden brown seeds.

With a slight smirk Seven observed, "Apparently you are not very
hungry."

"Just wait a minute," Harry admonished her, as he tapped out another
command. Seven was startled as the golden brown seeds began to
explode.  Enjoying her look of puzzled inquiry, he explained, "Those
are dried corn kernels.  This is popcorn."

"Popcorn," Seven repeated, watching with childlike fascination as the
handful of kernels turned into fluffy white shapes.

"Yes.  I have to have popcorn when I watch a holovid.  It's part of
the experience."  Noting the slight flare of her nostrils, he
announced, "It smells great doesn't it?"

"The odor is pleasing," she admitted.  "Scent is important to you?"

"Of course.  When something smells good, you enjoy it more."

An enigmatic smile crossed her lips, "I agree."

Harry chuckled, "I'm glad you don't think it's irrelevant."

"It is definitely not irrelevant," she assured him.

"Glad to hear it," he said.  The popping slowed down then came to a
stop as the kernels reached the edge of the bowl.  "It's done," Harry
said reaching to remove it.  "Here hold the bowl while I get us
something to drink."  He hesitated knowing her usual request, "Did you
want some water?"

To his surprise she shook her head, "No, not at this time.  Please
choose something for us."

Grinning with delight, he nodded then tapped a command into the
replicator. Two pint glasses appeared, brimming with clear,
carbonated, brown fluid and topped with a layer of foam.  A look of
uncertainty crossed Seven's features. "I do not believe that I wish to
have a synthale this evening."

Harry picked up both glasses. "Don't worry," he assured her, "it is a
kind of beer, root type.  No synthahol at all."  He held a glass up to
her mouth allowing her to take a sip.  An innocent smile of delight
lit her features. "I'm glad you like it," he beamed.  He moved to his
couch, placing the glasses on the coffee table in front of him then
sitting down.  Seven followed his example, then looked at him
expectedly.  "Okay, next we need to decide what holovid we want to
watch," picking up a PADD from the table he pulled up a list, "Did you
want me to pick something?  Or do you want to take a look yourself?"

"I would like to choose," she replied decisively.  "Thank you."
Scanning the PADD she observed, "There are a great deal of holovideos
to choose from."

"Several thousand," he nodded, "if you can't decide I-"

"This one," she announced firmly.

"That was fast," he chuckled, taking the PADD from her.  He glanced at
her selection with surprise then looked back at her.

"The Doctor had requested that I read this story, at the time other
things hampered my study of it.  I do not think he would object to a
holovideo of it."

"The Doctor wanted you to," Harry repeated, trying to squelch the pang
of jealousy felt.  "Computer, half lights," he ordered.  At her look
of inquiry he explained, "It's better to watch vids with the lights
low."

"I was not aware of that.  You were not trying to create a romantic
atmosphere?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief.

"No," he answered quickly.  "Not that I don't want to, but..."

"I understand," Seven assured him.  "Is this the position you assumed
when you watched holovideos with your fiancé?"

Slightly surprised by her choice of words, Harry said cautiously,
"Well, sometimes we sat together on the couch like this.  Sometimes we
um, spooned."

"Spooned?  I am not familiar with that term?"

Hoping he wasn't embarrassing himself he explained, "Spooning means
lying together with your bodies in alignment.  Like the way spoons fit
together when you put them away."

"Hence the name," Seven nodded in understanding.  "Forks also align
themselves in a similar manner," she pointed out.

"That's true," he admitted, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief of
their own, "but I think if you called it 'forking' people would get
confused.  Let's watch the vid now."  Harry handed Seven her glass,
then taking his own he settled back, she followed suit.  The darkened
monitor lit up and the credits began to play

"A Christmas Carol" By Charles Dickens

"Harry your monitor is malfunctioning."

"No it's not," he assured her.  "This holovid is a copy of the
original which was made in the early 1930's.  It's in black and white.
While the credits rolled he gave a quick history of cinema in the 20th
century, mentally thanking Tom for this knowledge.

He munched popcorn as he spoke watching as Seven carefully chewed a
single popcorn.  Another childlike smile curved her lips as she
observed, "I recognize this food.  However I know that I have not
tasted it on Voyager."

"You could have had popcorn when you were a child, before you were
assimilated," he pointed out.  She nodded and continued eating single
popcorn kernels as they watched the screen.  It was an interesting
experience watching a holovideo with Seven.  Her curiosity was
boundless as she peppered him with questions.

Seven also seemed to believe that she should only eat a single kernel
in each mouthful, however it didn't matter how quickly she ate them.
Harry finally sat the bowl between them to allow her greater access,
her see-sawing movement almost making him dizzy.

They had reached Fezziwig's Christmas party, which Seven seemed to
enjoy very much.  Harry smiled to himself when she wondered aloud why
Neelix's parties weren't as enjoyable.

Suddenly, they were interrupted by the chirp of a combadge.

Seven tapped hers and announced, "This is Seven of Nine."

:::This is the Doctor:::

"Yes Doctor?"

:::Seven what are you doing?:::

"Ensign Kim and I are ingesting popcorn and drinking root beer.  We
are also watching a holovideo."

:::I thought you were just going to go and apologize to him?:::

Harry swallowed nervously, hearing a note of distress in the Doctor's
voice. After pausing the vid he sipped from his glass, feeling
uncomfortably like an eavesdropper.

"I did go to his quarters to apologize as you requested.  However,
this deck was immediately locked down.  Until the Tactical Maneuvers
are over we are restricted to his quarters.

Harry glanced at his companion, was it his imagination or did she look
a little guilty?

:::Seven, you could be there all night?:::

Yes, Harry thought, he's definitely distressed.

"I am aware of that Doctor," she replied calmly.

"I could authorize an emergency medical transport for you.:::

Change distress to panic, Harry thought.

"That will not be necessary.  At this point in the exercise any change
in the transport patterns could cause the scenario to malfunction."

Harry took a handful of popcorn, watching her expression as she spoke
to the Doctor.  An idea was forming that sounded implausible, but then
a lot of things that had happened in the last twenty-four hours were
implausible.

Suddenly the monitor screen in front of them was changed and the
Doctor's visage filled the screen.  Harry knew the Doctor had the
authorization to override monitors in case of an emergency.  He
remembered B'Elanna seething to him when the Doctor's face had popped
up in her bathroom terminal during a sonic shower.  He had been pretty
amused at the time when she related the incident to him.  Now he made
a mental note to himself to apologize to the Chief Engineer.  It 'was'
damn annoying.

"Doctor?" his companion asked in surprise.

He looked at Harry, "Ensign Kim, please excuse us, I need to speak to
Seven privately."

Harry started to rise from the couch.  Seven spoke sharply, "Resume
your seating arrangement!"  Harry sat back down almost knocking over
the half full bowl of popcorn and feeling like an old earth style
marionette.

"Doctor, these are Ensign Kim's quarters.  Telling him to move to
allow us to have a private conversation would appear to be rude."

 "Seven, you'll need to regenerate that makes it a medical emergency."

"I do not," she replied.  "After your examination.  I returned to
Cargo Bay two and regenerated for 3.5 hours.  I will not need to
regenerate for approximately eighteen more hours."

Harry watched the usual worry lines in the Doctor's forehead become
deep gullies.  His efforts to remain calm were painfully obvious,
"Seven you can't spend the night there."

Seven appeared to consider his worlds, "That is correct.  I have not
asked for permission.  It is rude to assume is it not?"  Turning to
Harry she asked with practiced ease, "Ensign Kim is it acceptable that
I spend the night in your quarters?"

Remain calm, he told himself as his suspicions were almost completely
confirmed.  He knew that Seven routinely monitored bridge conversation
as a matter of course both in Astrometrics and in Cargo Bay 2.  She
had made a special request and received approval to do so since that
channel was not accessible to other personal terminals.  Harry had not
expected to have his deck locked down, it was not part of the original
scenario as Tuvok had discussed it.  However he had added that is was
a possibility depending on the decisions of the command staff.  Tuvok,
Chakotay and the Captain were running the scenario from the bridge,
the only person on the crew who could have received word about the
lock down was Seven.  The Doctor had told her that she should
apologize this afternoon.  She had waited several hours before coming
to his quarters.  She 'had' wanted to be here all night.

"Ensign Kim?"

Harry blinked several times before speaking.  "I'm sorry?  Yes, Seven
of course you can stay here."

The EMH appeared to wince.  Harry felt for the man, he of all people
understood what it was like to care for Seven of Nine.  "Don't worry
Doctor, she'll be fine."

"I'm sure she will," the Chief Medical said with derision.  "Seven,
you know people are going to talk about this?"

Low blow Doctor, Harry thought.

"People gossip about my activities as a matter of course.  It does not
affect me.  You would do well to not let it affect you either," she
replied crisply.

Nice recovery Seven, the Ensign smiled.

"Doctor," she began.  "If you have no other questions, I would like to
return to the holovideo.  It is adapted from a book you specifically
requested I read entitled, 'A Christmas Carol.'  Thank you for
suggesting it, I am finding it to be of great interest."

"Your welcome," the EMH muttered.  He sent an uneasy glance in Harry's
direction before saying, "Goodnight Seven, Ensign Kim I will see you
both in the morning."

"Goodnight Doctor," they said in unison.  The Doctor's face
disappeared.

Harry looked at Seven, "Are you all right?"

"I am fine.  Thank you.  I would like to continue the holovideo."

They settled back to watch the rest of the story.  As the story became
darker Harry glanced at Seven noting her wide eyes, and frozen
posture.  Finally when they reached the scene in which Ebenezer
Scrooge views his own tombstone he heard her sharp intake of breath at
the sight.  He reached out to pat her hand and was startled to find it
shaking.  Wrapping his hand around hers, he said softly, "Do you want
to stop watching it?"

"No!  It is important that I continue.  The Doctor believed that I
would benefit by learning this story."

Harry paused the vid, then placed the empty popcorn bowl on the table
and moved to sit next to her.  Wrapping his arm around her shoulder he
tried to soothe her.  "It's going to be okay."

She turned to him, her crystal blue eyes pained, "The Doctor believed
my character to be like that of Ebenezer Scrooge.  He wanted to show
me that if I did not change my ways I would die alone and no one would
mourn by death."

Harry cursed the Doctor's brand of  'Hit her over the head' symbolism.
"Seven," he asked, gently  "When did the Doctor tell you to read the
book?"

"Shortly before we encountered the 'Omega Directive' from Starfleet. I
was not able to study it at the time and he never repeated his
request."  She alluded to a time the previous year, when the crew had
to work to stop a civilization from using a monstrously dangerous
particle as a form of energy.

"Maybe," Harry said, "he didn't think you 'needed' to read it anymore.
You've come a long way since then you have friends. You participate in
crew activities.  Sometimes even without the Captain requesting you to
do it," he teased.  She smiled slightly, emboldened he added, "Hey,
I've even forgiven you for demoting me to Two of Ten."

Her eyes sparkled, as she replied archly, "There was nothing to
forgive.  You were not following my instructions and were questioning
my authority.  We were operating as a collective unit, your actions
would not have been allowed in the Collective."

Chuckling, he pointed out, "Yeah?  Well, you were enjoying ordering us
around just a little too much.  Now, I want you to finish watching the
story.  It's going to be okay I promise."  He squeezed her fingers for
emphasis and she nodded her acquiesce.

The story continued as they watched Scrooge's attempt to redeem
himself.  Harry beamed as Seven's smile grew until she seemed to be
lit up with pleasure.

She smiled warmly at him as the final credits rolled, "And it was
always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well."

Harry nodded, "I told you it would be okay."

"Yes, you did."

"I'm glad you picked that story.  It was good to see it again," he
said thoughtfully.

"You enjoyed it also?" she questioned him, "but you did not 'need' to
see it again."

"Not in the way you mean," he explained.  "But sometimes we get so
wrapped up in our duties that we forget what's important.  It's good
to be reminded of it every now and then."   Harry stood up, stretching
his legs.  Seven also stood, picking up the empty bowl and glasses
then placing them in the replicator for recycling.

Harry watched her, still amazed that she was in his quarters with him,
and it wasn't in an alternative universe or a dream.

Is this real or am I dreaming?

His combadge chirped interrupting his musical reverie.  He tapped it,
"Kim here."

:::Harry it's Tom.  Are you alone?:::

Interesting move Doctor, he thought.  In an artificially cheery voice
he answered, "No Tom, I'm not alone.  But you know that don't you?"

Seven met his eyes, her brow implant arched in surprise.

:::Okay, the Doctor commed me.  He's worried about what's going on.
What is going on?  I thought you weren't well, you know?:::

"No," Harry replied wryly, "you assumed.  As for what's going on, it's
none of your business and none of the Doctor's business either.  I
told him Seven would be all right.  Kim out," he slapped his combadge
forcefully.

"Sorry about that," he said to Seven.

"Why are you sorry?" she asked.  "I enjoyed the exchange."

Harry grinned, "Okay I kind of enjoyed it too.  What did you want to
do next? It's almost 2000 hours."

"What would you and your fiancé do now?"

He considered for a moment, "We would probably get comfortable and
watch another holovid or maybe listen to music."

"That would be acceptable.  I assumed we were already comfortable?"

Harry smiled, "I mean we'd probably put on more casual clothes.  I'd
change out of my uniform and she'd put on sweats or something."

"Sweats?  You are referring to exercise clothing?"

"Comfortable exercise clothing," he hastened to add, remembering what
she usually wore for athletic activity.

"You will help me to choose this type of clothing," she informed him.

"Yes ma'am," he replied.

A short while later they were again in his living area.  Seven attired
in soft knit leggings and an oversized sweatshirt of a soft gray hue.
She had been amused when Harry had presented her with thick gray socks
to wear.

Harry had used the time she was in the bathroom to change into sweat
pants and his favorite Academy pullover.

Seven handed him the PADD, "I would like to view this again."

He glanced at the PADD, "Again?"

"Yes, I viewed it once with Naomi Wildman.  It was pleasing.  She
informed me that it was acceptable to review holovideos that you
enjoyed."

"Tom would agree with her.  He has old holovids that he's watched
hundreds of times," Harry said, tapping in the instructions as they
both walked to the couch.

Seven asked casually, "Perhaps now we can assume the spooning
position?"

Harry stopped in his tracks.  More than anything he would like to
assume the spooning position with her, but..."Maybe that's not a good
idea right now."

She looked inquiringly at him, "You believe that you would become
sexually aroused?"

Harry closed his eyes. Ouch, okay, be honest.  "I'd say that's a
distinct possibility.  It's probably not a good time.  Not that I
don't want too, you understand?"

"I understand," she nodded with a pleased smile.  "While watching
holovideos with Naomi and Ensign Wildman they assumed a position that
appeared to be soothing."

Relief.  If she saw Sam and Naomi do it, it's got to be okay, he
thought. "That sounds fine Seven where do you want me?"

"You will sit here," she replied, pressing him down on one side of the
couch, she immediately lay down, her head resting on his lap.

Harry froze.  He tried to collect his thoughts as the title appeared
on the monitor screen.

"Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory" Adapted from a book by Roald
Dahl

"Seven," he whispered.  "This isn't a good idea."

She looked up at him, her brow implant arched clearly asking, again?
Then she moved a throw pillow under her head and turned back to watch
the vid.

"Thanks," Harry muttered.  "The pillow makes all the difference."
Actually the pillow and the still surreal quality of her presence in
his quarters did manage to help him concentrate on the vid.  He began
to enjoy it, not having watched it since he was a child.

Perhaps because it was Seven's second viewing she did not have as many
questions and seemed to not have to focus her concentration on it as
thoroughly as before.  Her observations made him smile, her
announcement that the Oompa Loompa's resemblance to Species 3681 was
fascinating make him laugh out loud, which seemed to please her.

He found himself studying her features.  Savoring the fact that for
the first time he could look at her as much as he wanted.  A lock of
hair had come loose from her twist and he attempted to move it back
into position.

"Ensign Wildman did something similar to Naomi as they watched the
holovideo. It is pleasing."

"Thanks," Harry smiled.  "I aim to please."  To his surprise she
reached back and removed the pins from her hair.

"That will allow you greater accessibility," she explained without
looking up.

"It will at that," he admitted, giving in to the pure pleasure of the
sensation of his fingers combing through her soft blonde hair.  He had
dreamt of doing that.  He'd dreamt of doing a lot of things actually,
but right at this moment he was completely happy with this.

In a few minutes her eyes began to close, he could tell by her slow,
steady breathing that she was sleeping.  He sat lost in thought, as he
looked down at the woman that had completely captured his heart.  This
was real and he was not dreaming.

A sound from his sleeping area brought him back to his senses.  His
eyes widened in surprise as a panel was moved from the wall and Ensign
Freddie Bristow crawled into his quarters.

Harry's look of surprise paled in comparison to the complete and utter
shock on Bristow's face as he took in the incredible vision of a
sleeping Seven of Nine with her head nestled on Harry's lap.

Freddie moved backwards towards the opened panel awkwardly attempting
to crawl in backwards.  Harry held up his hand to stop him then
beckoned to him.  The Ensign approached, his eyes darting nervously
from Seven to Harry.

"What's going on?" Harry whispered.

It was obvious that Freddie was thinking exactly the same thing.  It
was well known that Ensign Bristow was one of the biggest gossips on
the ship.  There was no doubt in Harry's mind that the news of his
discovery would spread like wildfire.   Freddie licked his lips before
replying.  "We're going through the Jeffries tubes to enter crew
quarters and try to gather together supplies to help us take back the
bridge.  The more we gather, the more points we get."

"What kind of supplies do you need?" Harry asked.

"Any kind, weapons, engineering tools, medical supplies."

Harry pointed to his computer console.  "There's a full tool kit in
the drawer under my console."

Freddie grinned with gratitude.  He almost tiptoed over to the console
to remove the tool kit.  Harry watched, the beginnings of an idea
coming to him that was strictly speaking not very nice, but it also
sounded pretty darn good. Harry beckoned to him again.  Just as he
began to speak Seven stirred, turning her body towards him and
burrowing her face in the folds of his shirt.

Forcing himself to act as though this was a normal occurrence he asked
Freddie, "Would an emergency med kit and a dermal regenerator come in
handy?"  He had to repeat himself because Bristow's attention was
still focused on Seven.

All Freddie could manage was an eager nod.  Harry leaned forward
whispering into the Ensign's ear.  Quickly he left, Harry smiling with
satisfaction as the panel closed behind him.

Oh yes, this was going to be good.  Tom had told him at lunch that he
and B'Elanna had elected to pass the evening in his quarters.  Tom had
been so apologetic that he had even invited Harry to join them for a
few hours.  He had suggested they play cards or watch some vids there.
Harry was eternally grateful he hadn't decided to join them.  He knew
Tom felt guilty about what had happened but the thought of how he
would have felt as a third wheel when the other two wheels wanted to
go around by themselves made him grimace with disgust.  Smiling to
himself as he recalled Tom telling him that he should have 'told' him
that he didn't like the idea of the Doctor going out with Seven. Yeah,
right, Harry thought, I might as well have put up a target on my chest
with the words,  'ridicule me now' written under it because that's
what Tom would have done.

Harry was a pretty even-tempered person.  It wasn't often that he
really lost it.  Last night had been one of those times.  He had been
angry and hurt that Tom had repeated what Seven had told him when she
was looking for viable 'first dates.'  He was glad that he hadn't
admitted to Tom how much her words had hurt him, but Harry wasn't
above getting a little revenge.  He knew that Tom had stored emergency
med kits in both his and B'Elanna's quarters.  Tom hadn't wanted to
have to report to the Doctor every time he and B'Elanna got a little
too "Klingon.' He also knew that the one stored in B'Elanna's quarters
was unauthorized, Tom had stumbled upon it last year after the Hirogen
debacle. The kit had been coded to Engineering and Harry knew that
when it was no longer of use to the War Games it would automatically
be returned there.  Whereas his tool kit was coded to his quarters and
would be given back to him.

Sometime soon, Tom and B'Elanna would be in her quarters and want to
use the dermal regenerator and it would be gone.  They couldn't ask
what happened to it, because technically speaking it wasn't there in
the first place.  Harry felt a twinge of guilt his little prank would
also cause B'Elanna some discomfort.  But he also knew his friends. No
matter what condition Tom was in she would make him return to his
quarters for the med kit.  The thought of Tom furtively racing back to
his quarters bruised, battered and bleeding made him feel amazingly
satisfied.  Revenge was sweet.

With a sigh he looked down at the sleeping woman on his lap.  Bedtime.
Carefully extricating himself he moved to his bed to turn down the
covers then returned to gently lift her and carry her to his bed.  She
half awakened as he smoothed the covers over her.

"Harry?"

"Shh, it's okay," he whispered to her.  She looked up at him.  He
swallowed, she was so lovely, her eyes heavy lidded from sleep and a
gentle smile softening her usually stoic expression.  "You're in my
bed, it's late and it's time to go to sleep."

"I was asleep," she teased him.

He wanted to kiss her so badly he ached, but settled for a gentle
stroke of her cheek, "I know, but I don't think that you'd be
comfortable on my couch all night.  See you in the morning."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to sleep in the couch.  I just have to grab a blanket."

"I assumed you would sleep with me?" she said, rubbing her eyes like a
child.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he smiled.  Pleased at her
assumption never the less.  "Go back to sleep.  I'll see you in the
morning."

"Very well.  Good night Harry."

"Good night Seven.  Sweet dreams."

"They will be."

---

:::Tactical Maneuvers have ended.  This deck is no longer locked down.
All personnel may leave their quarters.:::

The sound of the female voice of the computer awakened Harry.  He felt
amazingly rested his dreams had been sweet also.  Stretching he smiled
at Seven sitting in his armchair scanning a PADD.  She had changed
back into her unitard and her hair was in the usual French twist.

"Good morning Harry," she smiled.

"Good morning Seven.  How long have you been up?"

"I awakened several hours ago.  I do not require as much sleep as you
do.  My regeneration takes the place of some of my rest."

Before he could ask what she had been doing for several hours, his
door chimed to announce a guest.

"Enter," Harry said automatically.

The doors swished open to allow the EMH to enter.  "Good morning
Seven, Ensign Kim.  I trust you both slept well?" he said coolly.

Harry was impressed.  The Doctor was presenting a good front, but he'd
spent a lot of time with him and knew that's all it was, a front.

"I slept very well Doctor.  Thank you.  Ensign Kim's bed was
surprising comfortable," Seven replied cordially.

Ouch, Harry winced.  The Doctor's brows rose so high that it appeared
as if they would just continue their journey over the top of his head
and stop at his neck.  Harry raised his hand to attract the Medical
Officer's attention.  "My couch is not as comfortable, but I slept
very well also."

"I'm pleased to hear that you both slept well," the EMH continued
grandly.  His façade began to waver as he looked into Seven's calm
blue eyes, "I knew that Ensign Kim would take care of you, but I know
that you aren't used to spending time in people's quarters.  I was
very worried about you," he added, placing his hand protectively on
his arm."

"I am sorry Doctor.  I did not mean to cause you anxiety," she said
seriously

Harry watched her, not realizing that he was holding his breath.  She
was not simply parroting the words for etiquettes sake.  She genuinely
did not wish to hurt this man that she considered her mentor and
friend.  What now, he wondered to himself?

The Doctor appeared to relax, "I'm sure you didn't.  I believe that we
should leave Ensign Kim and allow him to dress and get ready for his
duties."

"Very well Doctor," she complied.  Squaring her shoulders she
addressed him in her usual strong monotone, "Ensign Kim thank you for
allowing me to stay in your quarters."

He stared at her every trace of the warm and open woman he'd spent
last night with was gone.  "Your welcome Seven," he stammered.

"Yes, thank you Ensign," the Doctor said.  "After you Seven," the
Doctor waved to the door grandly.   Seven left the room without a
backward glance.

Harry stood, frozen in his place.  What the hell just happened here?

---

Sandrine's was jumping again that night.  The only problem was that
there were no actual living beings there yet.  The holographic
denizens, however, appeared to be enjoying themselves.  Tom Paris'
jukebox was blaring out 20th century Rock and Roll and a general air
of conviviality reigned.

The War Games/Tactical Maneuvers had ended two days ago and were
considered a success.  Commander Tuvok, as well as the Captain and
Commander Chakotay, had been pleased by the resourcefulness and
camaraderie of their crew.

That is not to say, however, that they had gone without a hitch.
Several weaknesses had become evident and the senior staff had spent
the last two days rectifying them.

One large weakness was medical support.  During the scenario the
Doctor was deemed 'off-line' and Tom Paris was considered out of
action as a hostage.  It was glaringly obvious that there were not
enough crewmembers with sufficient medical training to help in a
crisis.  "Exactly what I've been saying for two years!" Tom emphasized
to anyone who would listen.  Commander Chakotay had authorized several
people from each department to begin advanced emergency medical
training, and then reminded Mr. Paris that Sickbay wasn't the only
place lacking skilled help.  He pointed out that the messhall also
needed trained workers and Neelix was looking for recruits.  The
helmsman wisely stopped expressing his opinion on the subject from
that moment forward.

The Morale Officer's suggestion to cross train other crewmembers a
year earlier had been extremely helpful.  Neelix beamed when Chakotay
informed him that the cross-trained individuals had garnered the most
points and been proclaimed the overall 'winners' when the maneuvers
were over.

As recognition for the crew's achievements the Captain had authorized
a party in the Sandrine's program.  Neelix had consulted Tom as to
authentic 20th Century party food, so the serving tables were loaded
with bowls of various kinds of chips, pickles, macaroni and potato
salad.  A separate table held the main course for the evening: a six-
foot long submarine sandwich which, due to its size, had to be
replicated in the shuttle bay replicators normally used for making
parts.

The doors to Sandrine's slid open as Tom and B'Elanna entered the bar.
As one, the holographic inhabitants shouted with delight, "Tom!"

B'Elanna shook her head, "I still don't know why you think that's so
funny."

Her mate smirked helplessly, "It's a private 20th century joke.  If
you'd watch some of the shows I told you to watch you'd understand it.
Hey, if you think that's annoying, I was thinking of having them shout
out 'great gams' when you walked in, but I thought that was a little
much."

"A little," B'Elanna responded sarcastically, but the smile flirting
around her lips said otherwise.

---

Harry Kim was pacing.  He followed a path from his front entrance to
the door of his bathroom.  Each time he reached the front door he
willed himself to walk out of his quarters, somewhere, anywhere, but
each time he turned and continued his pacing.

The last few days had been stressful.  The senior staff had been busy
analyzing the information from the War Games and working on
recommendations.  As Chief of Operations he had also had the
responsibility for improving the flow of communications and data in
case of another 'emergency.'  Normally, he would have welcomed the new
challenge and would have enjoyed looking at the problems from a new
perspective.

However, his usually nimble mind felt sluggish.  From the morning that
Seven had left his quarters with the Doctor he'd felt as though he was
observing everything from a distance.  Something was wrong.  It was as
though the one night that he and Seven had spent together had been a
dream that and the reality was a nightmare.

---

"You do it just like this," Tom Paris instructed his girlfriend,
dipping a round flat object into a bowl of shiny, orange goo, then
depositing the glistening morsel into his mouth.

His pupil watched with unveiled disgust.  Raising her voice slightly
to be heard over the party in full swing, "I'm really not that hungry
anymore, that submachine sandwich really filled me up."

"Submarine," he corrected her.  "Come on B'Elanna, what's wrong,
you're not afraid, are you?"

His mate refused to rise to the bait, "It'll take more than that to
scare me Paris.  It just looks like one of Neelix's less successful
cooking experiments."

"It's not," he assured her.  "I replicated the recipe word for word
from an old database."  He waved another goo-covered object in front
of her, "Just try it for me?" he begged, focusing the full force of
his blue eyes on her.

B'Elanna sighed, realizing that she had lost the battle, and leaned
forward, taking the object into her mouth and chewing cautiously.

"Isn't it great?" Tom asked with enthusiasm.

"It's kind of greasy," she answered, forcing herself to swallow the
thick mass. "You're sure this is cheese?"

"Well, its kind of cheese.  It's called nacho cheese," her mate
answered vaguely. "It was developed in the 20th century.  It's loaded
with fat, salt and chemicals.  It originally started off being made
with real cheese, but by the beginning of the millennium, science had
discovered a way to manufacture it completely out of non-organic
substances.  Amazing isn't it?"

B'Elanna stared blankly at her chosen mate, "Just what I was
thinking."

"Do you know that nachos were present at just about every major
cultural event of any importance in the 20th and 21st centuries?  It
seems to have fallen out of favor after that.  Have another," he urged
her.

"One's enough," she said firmly.  "I'm full, you eat it."

"Are you sure?" Tom asked doubtfully.  "One of the fascinating
properties of nacho cheese is that humans seemed unable to limit their
consumption of it. Maybe it's your Klingon taste buds that are
stopping you from enjoying it."

"I'm sure that's it," she replied with a condescending smile.  She
then took a long drink from her glass of red wine, swishing it around
in her mouth to, hopefully, eradicate all the traces of grease she
could still feel lingering there.

Tom leaned back, looking around contentedly.  "People seem to really
be enjoying themselves."

"It's a nice party," B'Elanna agreed.  "I like the music you picked
out.  Is Harry coming?"

He shook his head, "I asked him when our shift ended, but he said no,
and looked like he really didn't want to talk about it.  I think he's
still mad at me."

"Well, he has a right to be mad," she said softly, covering his hand
with hers. "You bent over backwards to help the Doctor be with Seven,
and all you did for Harry was discourage him and tease him about her.
Then you tried to make the Doctor feel better, by telling him
something Harry told you in confidence."   "Oh good, I wouldn't want
you to try and comfort me," he replied with a grimace.

"I'm not trying to be harsh.  It's the truth.  I'm just as much at
fault at you."  She added, tongue in cheek, "Well, maybe not as much
as you."

"So what happens now?" he asked.  "We know Seven spent the night in
his quarters, but that's all we know.  Well, except for the stuff that
Bristow is saying, but that can't be right, can it?"

B'Elanna eyed her mate gleefully, "It's killing you isn't it?  Tom
Paris who knows everything that happens on Voyager, doesn't know what
his best friend did."

"Yes!  I admit it," Tom answered, his hands held up wide in defeat.
"Harry won't talk about it at all.  I mean I can usually get him to
spill his guts, but now he shuts up tight as a clam.  And what about
what Seven?  Do you think she's made up her mind?"

The Chief Engineer shook her head, "I don't know.  I mean we only had
that short talk."

"Yeah, but that short talk was more than she's had with anybody," her
mate pointed out.

"That's true," B'Elanna acknowledged.  "She admitted that she feels
something special for Harry, but she cares about the Doctor too.  Just
more as a friend, she understands now, I guess.  She doesn't want him
to be alone.  She knows she can't have it both ways."

The pilot swirled the stem of the wine glass thoughtfully, "What a
mess."  His eyes wandered over his mate's shoulders, "Oh my God!"

B'Elanna turned, following his field of vision, and stared in shocked
silence. The Doctor and Seven of Nine had entered Sandrine's. Normally
this would have caused just a momentary pause in the conversation.
Even the gossip about Seven's recent nocturnal activities would only
have led to some whispered comments.  But that evening their
appearance caused several glasses to tip over and even the usually
unflappable Sandrine allowed the glass of synthale she was filling to
overflow.

Seven was attired in a pair of impossibly tight, shiny, black leather
pants that ended in high-heeled black boots.  Her shirt was white,
very fitted and extended just beyond her slender waist.  Her
appearance alone would have created a sensation, but coupled with the
Doctor's attire it left the partygoers completely dumbstruck.

He was also attired in impossibly tight, shiny, black leather pants
and a white fitted shirt.  However the similarities ended there, his
pants flared at the ankle, showing off a pair of black leather boots.
His shirt was tucked into his pants.  It was unbuttoned to below his
sternum to show an expanse of black chest hair.

"Oh my God," Tom repeated, his voice quivering with suppressed
laughter. "B'Elanna, can you see what he's wearing?"

"I'm not blind," she hissed, although she almost wished for a bout of
temporary blindness to stop the image from being burned into her
memory.  She carefully scrutinized the EMH's appearance, remembering
what Seven had told her during their time spent locked in
Astrometrics.

As though reading her mind Tom wondered aloud, "What the hell does he
have stuck in his pants?  It looks like a class-A hydrospanner."

A snicker escaped his girlfriend's lips, "Seven did say that the
Doctor had 'enhanced' his program."

"Enhanced," Tom shook his head.  "That's not enhancing, that's just
bragging."

B'Elanna couldn't resist adding, "He's also programmed himself for
multiple techniques."

"That's just not fair," the blond pilot said, shaking his head.  "We
poor flesh and blood slobs have to actually practice our skills to get
them right."

His mate patted his nicely firm posterior, "Don't let it bother you,
Tom.  In your case, practice did make perfect."

"Lieutenant," he said, drawing out the word suggestively,  "Flattery
will get you anywhere."

"Yeah, well, don't let it give you a big head," B'Elanna said.  "I
mean," she paused, her eyes wide with embarrassment.  They shared a
sultry laugh together before looking back to the entrance.

The couple still stood in the doorway.  Seven scanned the room, noting
their presence; she nodded and then motioned towards an empty table in
the middle of the room.

"She wants us to join them," B'Elanna hissed sotto voice to her mate.

"I don't think I can," Tom said helplessly.  "I'm afraid I might lose
it."

She stood, facing him down like a Klingon warrior, she stated, "Tom
Paris, if I have to go over there, you're going with me!"

"Yes, ma'am," he nodded and stood, picking up his drink and holding
out his arm for her.

They both arrived at the table at the same time the Doctor and Seven
reached it.  "Lieutenant Torres, Mr. Paris," the Doctor greeted them
perfunctorily.

"Doctor, Seven," B'Elanna nodded, not trusting her voice to actual
sentences.

Avoiding the glare of his mate, Tom gasped out, "Interesting outfit,
Doc."

"Thank you," The EMH smiled weakly.  "It was a gift from Seven."

"Isn't that nice," B'Elanna said, shooting an inquiring glance at the
former drone.

Seven nodded, and looking squarely at her she replied, coolly, "I felt
that, as the Doctor has taken the time to design so many different
clothing options for me, the 'least' I could do was give him a design
of my own.  Perhaps we should seat ourselves?"

Tom held a chair for B'Elanna and then seated himself.  The Doctor
began to hold a chair for Seven, who dismissed his effort with a
raised brow.  He then moved to seat himself.  To his companions'
surprise, something that sounded suspiciously like a grunt escaped his
lips.

"Something the matter Doc?" Tom asked, his eyes sparkling with
merriment.

"The pants that Seven replicated for me are a little tight," he
apologized. Looking directly at his date, he said with forced
sweetness, "This was your first attempt at fashion design.  Maybe the
specs were wrong.  Everyone makes mistakes."

Succinctly, she informed him, "I made no mistake.  The clothing you
are wearing exert precisely the same amount of pressure on your
holomatrix as the clothing you presented to me to wear this evening
exert on my body.  Perhaps your original specifications were
incorrect, Doctor?"

Tom and B'Elanna exchanged a glance.  The last time they were with the
other couple, Seven had been unusually compliant.  She was starting to
stand her ground.  The evening could get very interesting.

Seven's next comment was surprising, "Lieutenant, I wish to visit the
facilities."

"Go ahead," B'Elanna said slowly, puzzled by Seven's statement.

The blonde woman looked squarely into her eyes and explained, "My
studies of the databases informed that it is was a common practice for
females to visit the facilities together."

"That's very good Seven!" the Doctor said with pride.  "Having the
Lieutenant accompany you to the bathroom is an excellent way to bond
with a female friend."

"Thank you Doctor," she said, sending an inquiring glance at B'Elanna,
who finally began to understand Seven's odd request.

"Fine," the Chief Engineer said woodenly, "Let's go to the bathroom
together." She rose, glanced at her mate and realized that she
couldn't leave him alone with the Doctor too long in his condition,
"Tom, you could go get us some drinks while we're gone."

"I will," he jumped up eagerly, "Maybe I'll change the music on the
jukebox, too."

"You just do that," B'Elanna nodded, moving to follow Seven who was
already halfway to the bathrooms.  There were too many people around
for conversation, and B'Elanna sensed that Seven wanted to talk
privately to her anyway. To their displeasure, when they entered the
ladies' facility it was occupied by three female crewmembers, standing
by the sinks, giggling together.

Suddenly, Seven turned toward her and in her most Borg-like monotone
began to speak, "The standard procedure for assimilating a humanoid
involves inserting the injection tubules into one of the jugular veins
and the carotid arteries through the front of the neck."

"It does?" B'Elanna answered weakly.  The three crewmembers stopped
their conversation and stared that them in shocked silence.

"Yes," Seven continued, "Upon penetration of the vessel walls, the
tubules will release several million nanoprobes into the bloodstream.
Once inside the bloodstream, the nanoprobes immediately begin binding
with and taking over the functions of the blood cell in a manner
similar to a virus, except that the accompanying pain is
excruciating."

"Really?" the half-Klingon managed to ask.

"Indeed," Seven nodded, then, in a more pleasant voice than the
conversation warranted she asked, "Would you care for me to explain
how superfluous limbs are removed or surgically altered to prepare
them for permanent prosthetics?"

The three young women made a rapid movement towards the door with
looks of utter disgust on their faces.

"What the hell did you do that for?" B'Elanna demanded as the door
closed.

Complacently, Seven pointed out, "It would have been considered rude
to ask them to leave and I wished to speak to you privately."

B'Elanna sighed, shaking her head slightly she pushed her hair off her
forehead.  "Seven, sometimes it's better to just be rude.  Now, why am
I here?"

"I require your assistance," she informed her soberly.  "Events will
occur this evening.  I cannot tell you what is going to transpire, but
I will give you instructions that will allow you to rectify them
afterwards.  Listen carefully, Lieutenant," B'Elanna's eyes widened
with shock as she explained exactly what her assistance would entail.

---

He paused to finger his clarinet.  Maybe music would take his mind off
things. No, he didn't want to take his mind off of things, he wanted
to think about what had happened.  What was happening?  He didn't want
to push Seven, but she now seemed to be actively avoiding him.  That
afternoon, during his lunch hour, he had checked that she was in Cargo
Bay 2 and not regenerating.  Entering, he had seen her concentrating
on her work console while nibbling on a nutritional supplement bar. At
any other time he would have been amused, he couldn't recall ever
seeing Seven eating on the job.  The usual sounds of the engines had
kept her from hearing his approach, finally, as had he drawn near he
called her name.  She whirled quickly to face him, she had definitely
not been happy to see him.

"Ensign Kim, I did not request your presence," she had stated coldly.
She then pressed a button on her console to cause the screen to go
blank.

"I....I wanted to see you," he'd stammered.  He had never seen her
like this, obviously angry with him, but also almost furtive. "We need
to talk about--"

"No, we do not," she'd corrected him, laying down the supplement bar.
Noting the dark color and scent, Harry immediately identified it,
chocolate mint. Seven had continued, "I do not wish to speak with you
at this time.  Leave immediately."

Shock rendered him effectively mute.  Was this the woman who he'd
tucked into bed less than two days ago?  The woman who had shown her
vulnerability in her fear that he could not return her feelings?
Finally he'd managed to say, "Why are you doing this?  I thought that
we cared about each other?  If you're afraid of hurting the Doctor, I
understand that you need time, but don't shut me out, please Seven."

For a moment her precise composure had wavered, then just as quickly
it was gone.  Coldly, she'd stated, "At this time our feelings for
each other are irrelevant.  I am asking you to leave now.  I must
continue with my work."

"Fine," he had whispered, and he had slunk out, feeling more beaten by
her words than by any of the life-threatening situations he'd
encountered on Voyager.  The rest of the day had passed in a daze.
He'd overheard the Captain, Chakotay and the rest of the bridge crew
discussing the party in Sandrine's but he had felt distanced from the
discussion.  Tom had shot him concerned glances.   Harry hadn't
forwarded any information about his evening with Seven to his friend.
The pilot knew just what the circulating flood of gossip was saying,
but his attempts to press Harry for information had met with
unexpected resistance.

Several minutes before the end of Harry's shift a message notice had
appeared on his monitor.  It was from Seven and read, 'Do not attend
the festivities in Sandrine's this evening.  I will meet you in your
quarters at approximately 2030 hours to explain my actions.'

That was where he was now, still pacing, stopping occasionally to
finger a PADD that he could be working on, or attempting to straighten
an already tidy room, and periodically asking the computer for the
time, now 2039 hours.

In his head he feverishly reviewed what he knew. Seven had feelings
for him. But maybe they weren't strong enough.  The Doctor was her
friend and her mentor, she respected him, maybe, even though she had
feelings for him, she didn't respect him as a person.  Look at what
she saw me do when I was with Tal.  Maybe I disappointed her and she
can't get over that.  Maybe she doesn't believe that I can have
feelings for her also.  Maybe she regrets that evening we spent
together.  Maybe I pushed her too hard to end the relationship with
the Doctor.  Too damn many maybes.

---

The ladies rejoined the gentlemen. Seven seemed stoic as always,
B'Elanna subdued.

"Oh good, you're back," Tom greeted them with relief.  Placing glasses
in front of the two women, he took a long pull from his drink and told
his mate, "I set the jukebox to play 'our' song."

"Thanks," B'Elanna smiled.

"That's lovely," the Doctor piped in.  Turning toward his blond
companion he attempted to explain, "What they mean is--"

"I understand what they mean," Seven cut him off.  "They are referring
to a song that has special emotional significance to them and their
relationship."

"Right," the EMH nodded, obviously surprised.  He mused on the subject
for a moment, "I guess our song might be, 'You Are My Sunshine,' it
was the first song we sang together."

"Perhaps," Seven said, noncommittally.

The song on the jukebox ended.  Tom reached for B'Elanna's hand she
smiled softly at him, moving closer.  There was the usual scratching
sound of the record being changed and suddenly the rasping 20th
century voice of Angus Young from AC/DC filled the room:

---
She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean
She was the best damn woman that I ever seen
She had the sightless eyes, telling me no lies
Knocking me out with those American thighs
You shook me all night long
---

The Doctor's eyes were wide with astonishment.  Holding his hands over
his ears he blared out, "This isn't music, it's screaming."

"It doesn't matter," B'Elanna shouted back, swaying slightly in her
chair. "It's our song, Doctor.  It sounds kind of Klingon, don't you
think?"

---
Taking more than her share, had me fighting for air
She told me to come but I was already there
Cause the walls were shaking, the earth was quaking
My mind was aching, and we were making it
You shook me all night long
---

"Seven," the EMH shouted to his companion.  "I'm sorry about this.
Usually special songs are soft and romantic, not like this."

The young woman he addressed cocked her head as his remark.  "I
believe I can understand the appeal of this song."

B'Elanna looked shrewdly at her, "Really?"

"Yes," Seven nodded.

---
I'm working double time, on the seduction line
She's one of a kind, she's just mine, all mine
Wanted no applause, it's just another cause
Make a meal outta me, and come back for more
Had to cool me down, to take another round
Now I'm back in the ring to take another swing
You shook me all night long
---

2046, finally he did what he knew he should have done much earlier.
Tapping his combadge, he asked, "Computer, location of Seven of Nine?"

:::Seven of Nine is in Holodeck two:::

Harry swallowed, "Computer, location of the Doctor?"

:::The Doctor is in Holodeck two:::

Softly he asked, "Computer, proximity of Seven of Nine to the Doctor?"

:::Seven of Nine is 25 centimeters from the Doctor:::

Well, that was it.  She'd made her choice and just wanted him out of
the way. He'd never considered that she could be purposely deceitful
but maybe she was farther along with her humanity lessons than he'd
imagined.

Suddenly his quarters seemed claustrophobic.  He knew he had to get
out and exited to the corridor.  He hadn't eaten anything for dinner
and even though his stomach rebelled at the thought of food, he
propelled himself onto the turbolift.

---

The song had ended.  B'Elanna gave her mate's thigh a strong squeeze
under the table in anticipation of their own nocturnal activities. The
Doctor sighed, making a point of checking his ears, implying that the
sound might have damaged them.  He then directed his attention to his
date, "You actually liked that cacophony of screeches that they called
a song?"

The former drone glanced at the couple seated with them, a slight
smile flickered around her mouth.  "I not only enjoyed it, I
considered it to be highly appropriate as it pertains to their
relationship."

"Thank you Seven," Tom smiled.

The EMH shook his head, "Really Seven, we must step up your musical
appreciation classes."

The former drone studied her companion for a moment, "I am sorry that
my musical tastes disappointed you Doctor.  Just as I apologize that
my taste in fashion was not to your liking."

His Doctor's eyes danced nervously around the room.  Smiling tenderly
at his companion, he said benignly, "I didn't say that I was
disappointed in your taste, but I'm not sure that this was a good
clothing choice.  It seems to be attracting a great deal of
attention."

Seven looked soberly at him, "My studies of the databases informed me
that unisex styles are perfectly acceptable clothing options."  Fixing
cold, blue eyes on Voyager's helmsman she asked, "Ensign Paris, do you
believe that the Doctor's attire is unsuitable?"

Choking on his drink, Tom tried to answer her between coughs, as
B'Elanna pounded him on the back, "Well, I um, wouldn't say it was
unsuitable. (Cough, cough.)  Just um, surprising.  That his and hers
thing is really...interesting."

Patiently the EMH explained in the tone of a weary teacher lecturing a
precocious child.  "Unisex fashion is perfectly acceptable, but this
style really is a little too revealing on a male physique."

"Are you saying that you believe it is acceptable for women to wear
clothing that is revealing, but that males should not?  That does not
appear to be very equitable, Doctor," Seven pointed out.

"That's true," B'Elanna nodded firmly.

The Doctor sent a baleful glare in the Chief Engineer's direction.
"That's not what I'm saying," he began, his voice rising slightly as
he glanced around the room and realized that he was the object of
attention and not for the reasons he would have wished.  "Maybe you
should have talked to me about the clothes you picked out for me to
wear.  It would have been nice to have some input, since I am the one
wearing them."

"I agree," Seven said, unexpectedly.  "Perhaps, you should have
consulted me about the clothing options you selected for me to wear
also, instead of dressing me in a manner that inspires laughter aboard
Voyager."

Aghast, the Doctor demanded, "Who laughed at you?  I'm sure they were
just jealous at how lovely you looked."

"Indeed," his companion replied.  Turning to the couple seated with
them, she asked, "Were you laughing at me because you were jealous at
how lovely I looked?"  Tom's face flushed hot red.  B'Elanna stared at
the blond woman, unsure at what her response should be.  To their
surprise, Seven continued, as she placed her hand on her date's arm,
"Perhaps you were correct Doctor.  My clothing designs were obviously
not up to your standards.  I will replace them with one of your own."
Suddenly she stood up and stated, "Computer, initiate subroutine Seven
of Nine A1."

"Eeee," the EMH hissed as the subroutine went into effect.  Jumping to
his feet in shock he realized that the outfit he had been wearing had
been replaced with the purple ensemble that he had suggested Seven
wear on her first date.  His arms rose high in the air as he realized
in astonishment that it had been replicated down to the four inch
purple pumps on his feet.  Immediately, he began to totter on the
heels and fell back onto the floor, legs splayed out like a doll.

Tom's chair clattered to the ground as he sprang to his feet at the
sight of Voyager's Doctor, attired in a purple dress that showed
plenty of cleavage, or in his case, chest hair.  His eyes traveled
down past the fitted waist to the very snug skirt, rendering him
speechless.  He winced mentally at the unsightly bulge that distorted
the smooth lines.  Pandemonium ensued as all the patrons of the
Sandrine's angled for a better look.

Seven stared down at her friend and mentor on the floor.  In her
coldest Borg monotone she announced, "Doctor, I wish to sever our
romantic affiliation." She then turned and left the holodeck.

"Doc," Tom hissed, "I never thought I'd ever be saying this, but pull
down your dress, you're giving everyone a free show."

The EMH urgently tried to pull down the dress, but the snug fabric
seemed to actively resist him.  Suddenly, he remembered his other
option. He reached up, meaning to download his program onto his
holoemitter, only to find it gone. "She took it," he hissed.  Loudly,
he begged, "Computer, deactivate EMH!" Nothing happened.

"We have to get you to the door," B'Elanna announced, looming over the
stricken man.  "Once we get you to the door, the holodeck programs
will go into effect. Then we need to download your program in Sickbay.
Everything will be back to normal then."

"You were in on this!" the Doctor accused her.

"No, I had nothing to do with it.  She just told me how to fix it when
we were in the bathroom.  I didn't realize that she was going to go
this far.  I thought the pants were as bad as it could get, I never
imagined," B'Elanna shook her head.  "Your holoemitter will be in
Sickbay.  Let's go, get up Doctor!"

The EMH tried to rise, the heels slipping out from under him.

"Take the shoes off," B'Elanna ordered him.

He tried to comply, "I can't," he panted.  "She made them part of my
program."

"Damn," Tom said with awe, "She's good."  Motioning B'Elanna to take
hold of the Doctor's other arm, they moved slowly and awkwardly to the
door.

---

The Messhall was empty.  The crew that was off duty would be eating at
the party in Sandrine's.  There were a few cold items on the counter
that Neelix usually left for stragglers.  He surveyed the comestibles
indifferently.  There was a hollow space inside him that needed to be
filled, but food wasn't going to do it.  Walking over to a viewport he
watched the stars, contemplating how close he'd come to a chance at
happiness.

At the swish of the doors opening he turned to see Seven approaching
him, cautiously.  His stomach contracted almost painfully as he
watched her advance towards him.  She seemed out of breath, her cheeks
pink from exertion.

"I asked you to stay in your quarters," she pointed out.

"So what?" he demanded.  "I asked you to tell me what was wrong and
you wouldn't.  Why should I do what you want?  So you can run around
Sandrine's with the Doctor and not worry about me interrupting you?"

"I have ended my romantic affiliation with the Doctor," she replied
unexpectedly, still moving closer to him.

Taken aback by the statement, Harry managed to ask, "You did?  Was
that why you were late?  Was he upset?"

She cocked her head slightly, "Yes.  He appeared to be upset, but he
will recover."  She was close enough now to touch him, and she did.
Raising her right hand, she placed it on the side of his neck.

"Seven?" he whispered, thrilling to the spark of electricity he felt
at her unexpected caress.

"I can feel the blood pulsing in your carotid artery," she observed
with a soft smile.  Removing her hand, she pressed her cheek against
his, inhaling deeply, she sighed in contentment.

His arms closed around her, "You don't know how much I've wanted to
hold you," he breathed.

Her arms circled his back as she admitted, "You do not know how much I
have wanted to be held."

---

Kathryn Janeway strode into Sickbay, accompanied by Chakotay.  She had
been enjoying a quiet evening with her CO, sipping coffee and looking
over crew reports in companionable silence when she received an urgent
request to appear in Sickbay. Tuvok had joined them en route.  She
glared at B'Elanna, who had summoned them all.  Tom stood by her side,
his eyes wide with apprehension.

"Lieutenant," the Captain glared,  "you said this was important."

"It is," the Chief Engineer nodded.  "We need all three of your voice
codes to fix this.  Computer, activate EMH."

The three most senior staff members stared in shocked silence at the
Doctor's appearance.

Finally Chakotay spoke, "You know, Doctor, I don't think purple is
your color."

---

Seven raised her head to look into Harry's eyes.  "I am sorry that my
actions caused you to doubt my feelings for you.  I still would like
to form a romantic affiliation with you.  If you are willing," she
added with a hint of doubt in her voice.

He looked deeply into her soft, blue eyes and smiled.  "More than
willing," he whispered.  Gently he cupped her soft cheek, moving
closer to finally press his lips to hers.

Just before they made contact they heard, "Harry!"

They froze, looking up to see B'Elanna and Tom racing into the
Messhall.

"What the hell?" Harry demanded.  "What?  Are you getting back at me
for all those times I interrupted you?  I'm sorry, okay?  Now leave.
Better yet, we'll leave.  Come on, Seven," he said, taking her hand.

B'Elanna stopped them.  Looking at Seven, she explained, "It's fixed.
They're all on their way here.  And they're not happy."

Seven nodded, standing squarely, she looked regretfully at Harry.  "I
understand, thank you, Lieutenant."

"What's going on?" Harry asked.  "Is something wrong?"

The Messhall doors opened again to allow the Captain, Chakotay, Tuvok
and an angry-looking Doctor, wearing his blue-shouldered uniform
again, to enter.

"There they are Captain," the EMH seethed.  "I knew he would be with
her.  It was his doing and I plan to file charges!"

Harry looked around in astonishment, "What's he talking about?"

"Don't play innocent now, Mr. Kim," the Doctor hissed.  "That
upstanding Ensign act doesn't fly anymore."

Seven moved to stand in front of Harry.  Calmly, she addressed the
Captain, "Ensign Kim was not involved in my plan.  He knew nothing of
the arrangements I made this evening."

"Right," the Doctor sniffed, "As if I'd believe you now."

"I was Borg," the former drone announced coldly, "I do not lie."

"Would someone please tell me what is going on?" Harry begged the room
at large.

Tom, his face still flushed from his previous experience attempted to
explain. Turning to look directly into his friend's face he began
sincerely, "Seven changed the Doctor's program, holomatrix," he began
to falter.  "First pants, leather, bulge, then dress, purple," he gave
up, leaning forward, he covered his face with his hands, dissolving
into mirth.

"Mr. Paris!" the Captain admonished him.

B'Elanna pushed her mate out of the way, a little more firmly than she
needed to, it should be said, and quickly explained the pertinent
events leading up to the entire Senior Staff standing in the Messhall.
Harry froze, his eyes flickered briefly to Seven who had moved to
stand stoically beside him, then to the Commander and Chakotay whose
composure seemed stretched to the limit.  The Captain stood tensely,
tapping her foot as the CO's dimples periodically flashed into
existence.

No one watching the expression on Harry's face could doubt that he
knew nothing of Seven's plans.  "I," he began.  "I don't know what to
say," he gave up.

"There is nothing for you to say," Seven spoke up.  "I alone was
responsible for the events of this evening."  Turning to face the man
she had once chosen for a romantic affiliation, she stated, "Doctor, I
understand that it is your prerogative to file charges against me.  I
will take whatever punishment is deserved."

The Doctor looked sadly into her stoic features, "Seven, I'm not going
to press charges against you."  He snorted, "I probably wouldn't even
have pressed them against the Ensign, once I had calmed down a little.
The last thing I want is to have to relive tonight's escapade with
more crewmembers.  I just, I don't understand why you did what you
did.  I thought that we were at least friends."

Gravely, she nodded, "We are friends.  That is why I modified your
holoprogram."

The other officers standing by waited for the explanation. 'This
should be good', was the general opinion.

Seven's expression softened, "I have always considered you a friend
and a mentor.  When I made the decision to date, I chose someone who I
felt I had the most in common with.  We are both technological beings.
We are superior in most respects to the average human."  The human
officers uniformly exchanged wry glances, B'Elanna rolled her eyes,
while Tuvok appeared to consider her viewpoint a valid one.

She continued, "I used specific criteria when I chose to begin a
romantic affiliation with you.  However, I overlooked one important
detail, desire. From what I have observed in other relationships, it
is also important to want to mate with the person you are involved
with.  I felt no such need.  I repeatedly emphasized to myself all the
qualities that make you suitable in a romantic affiliation, but that
aspect of my humanity would not exert itself.  I am sorry," she
admitted, softly.

The Doctor sighed, "It's not your fault Seven.  I can't make you feel
something that you don't."

"Thank you for understanding," she replied gravely.  Her expression
changed to one of interest, "However, I did also come to accept the
fact that I felt desire for Ensign Kim.  To be honest, I felt that and
other emotions previously, but disregarded them because I was
uncomfortable with the feelings his presence produced in me.  Most
markedly was the sensation of--"

"Seven," the EMH help up a hand to cut her off.  "I'm really trying to
be understanding about his mess, but there are some things I really
don't want to know about.  But I still don't understand why you..."

"Modified your holoprogram?" Seven asked.  At his nod, she explained,
"When I observed interpersonal relationship among the crew and studied
the databases pertaining to romantic affiliations, it occurred to me
that terminating a relationship was usually not done efficiently."

"There's an efficient way?" the Doctor asked, bewildered.

"I believe so," Seven continued.  "Most romantic affiliations end by
one of the partners 'letting the other person down easy.'  I
determined that that method is inefficient.  It allows the person let
down to believe that there is a chance that the relationship may be
renewed at some point.  While this allows the first partner to avoid
the discomfort of a painful ending it is unfair to the person being
let down.  I chose my actions to ensure that you harbored no more
romantic interest in me.  Thereby allowing you to move more easily
into another relationship with no conflicted emotions."

Tuvok addressed her, "Seven of Nine, while your methods were
misguided, your reasoning is extremely logical."

"Thank you, Commander," she responded stoically.

"Just a minute," the Captain spoke up.  "While the Doctor does not
want to press charges, there still is the matter of you tampering with
the Doctor's program.  That was wrong, Seven.  I understand that you
meant well, but that doesn't justify what you did.  Anything could
have happened, the Doctor could have been stuck like that."

The EMH snorted with horror.  B'Elanna effectively cut off another
outburst of laughter from Tom by poking him in the ribs with her
elbow.

"That is highly unlikely," Seven replied.  "However, I understand that
some form of discipline is merited.  Will I be restricted to Cargo Bay
Two other than the time I work in Astrometrics?"

The Captain studied her protégé for a moment, "Yes, you'll have one
week, seven days of restriction to quarters.  However," she paused and
turned to Chakotay. "Commander, cross training is a success, correct?"

"Correct," the CO nodded, watching her shrewdly.

"I think that more crewmembers cross training in Astrometrics would be
useful. Please assign Neelix to train there along with," the Captain
paused to consider her choices, "Along with both Ensigns Delaney."

"Affirmative," Chakotay complied.

The Captain continued, "I don't want Neelix's messhall duties
interrupted.  But schedule all his other time there."  She looked
squarely at Seven, "Starting tomorrow morning you will train to take
over his duties in the airponics bay."

The three less senior staff members exchanged worried glances.  The
Captain had calculated her punishment well.

"Airponics," Seven repeated, her lips curling with disdain.  "You wish
me to dig in the soil?"

"I wish you to learn the responsibilities involved in feeding our
crew.  I realize that that was a subject the Collective considered
irrelevant, but it is very relevant to our survival.  During your
restriction I'll send several texts on agriculture to your personal
database," the Captain smiled, fondly.  "Yes, and I remember several
books that Boothby recommended to me when I was a cadet. Real books,
not PADDs."  Looking at her Security Chief she said, "Tuvok, please
escort Seven to Cargo Bay two."

"Very well Captain," The Vulcan nodded.  "Seven of Nine, you will
accompany me."

"I will comply," she nodded.  Turning, she glanced back at Tom, then
B'Elanna, allowing her gaze to linger on Harry's stricken face.  As
forlornly as a child she said, "I will see you in 179 hours.  Goodbye,
Harry."

The simple use of his first name touched him.  He took a quick step
towards her, wanting to say something to make her feel better,
something that reassure her that it wouldn't be that bad and he'd be
there when her restriction to quarters was over.  But all he could see
was the solemn resignation in her soft blue eyes.  Normally, Harry Kim
would be aware of the other officers around him and the proper
protocol to follow in front of your Captain, but this wasn't a normal
situation.

The woman he cared for, maybe even loved, was yet again going to be
taken away from him.  Again, he'd almost touched happiness and it was
going to be pulled out of his grasp.  Not this time, damn it!  He put
his arms on her shoulders, his warm brown eyes locked onto her soft
blue eyes.  She had to leave, he understood that, but not without a
goodbye kiss.  She moved into his arms willingly as he pressed his
lips against hers.  He'd meant it to be just one gentle kiss, but her
lips were so soft, and he'd wanted this so much.  Their urgency
increased as Seven responded enthusiastically, moving her arms around
his neck, bringing him even closer to her.  They were oblivious to
their surroundings the only thing that mattered was their mouth's
pressed against each others.

Tom and B'Elanna exchanged knowing grins.  The Captain shared an
amused glance with Chakotay, dropping her eyes when his dimpled,
wicked smile threatened her outward composure.  The Doctor stared at
the Ensign and his former significant other in amazement, his
expression clearly stating, 'She never kissed me like that.'  The
Captain finally directed a glare of command to her Chief of Security
and it was left to Tuvok to end the romantic interlude.  "Seven of
Nine," he said calmly.  "You will accompany me to Cargo Bay two, now."

Regretfully the two young people separated.  Her eyes still fastened
on Harry's, Seven nodded, in a surprisingly throaty voice she replied,
"Very well, Commander, I apologize for the delay.  Goodbye, Harry."
She then turned to Tuvok and left the room, pausing at the doorway for
one last poignant glance at the man she had now chosen as her mate.

The Captain and Chakotay followed, trailed by the Doctor, leaving Tom,
B'Elanna and Harry alone.

Harry's eyes were still fastened on the doors, coming to his senses
only when he heard Tom comments, "Well, well, well.  Harry, I have to
hand it to you.  I mean, B'Elanna and I have done a few things that
have gotten us called on the carpet.  But we never actually hauled off
and kissed each other in front of the entire senior staff."

Suddenly the realization hit, and flushing scarlet, he exclaimed, "Oh
my God! Do you know how many Starfleet protocols I've violated?"

Shaking her head helplessly, B'Elanna pointed out to her conscientious
friend, "You weren't exactly alone, Harry."

"I know, I just..." he began.

"Harry, buddy," Tom cut him off.  "Forget about the protocols.  Think
about what happened between you and Seven, now, how do you feel?"

A wide smile lit the young man's face.  "I feel great."

"Good," the Helmsman said sincerely, clapping his hand on his friends
shoulder. "I'm happy for you, buddy.  Now, I suggest you call it a
night and get some sleep.  That should knock a few hours off of the
179 you'll be spending away from your sweetie pie."

Harry chuckled, "Don't ever let Seven hear you call her that, or you
might be wearing a dress yourself."

---

Harry stood at his post trying to keep his foot from tapping
impatiently.  Was this day ever going to end?  He glanced down at the
chronometer on his console. Eight minutes, just eight more minutes. In
eight minutes he would be off shift and in one hour and eight minutes
Seven would arrive at his quarters for dinner.

It would be their first real date.  He had planned everything
carefully, of course.  Harry Kim was, as always, very thorough.  He
had carefully selected a menu that would introduce her to some new
Alpha Quadrant foods without upsetting her still delicate digestive
system.

Please don't let the Captain decide she needs to call a short staff
meeting, he prayed silently.  Please don't let any anomalies, gaseous
clouds or annoying aliens decide to make an appearance.

The past week had been one of the longest he'd endured aboard Voyager.
The first afternoon of Seven's agricultural servitude Neelix had
commed the Captain while she was on the bridge, informing her that
someone needed to take Seven's meal to her in the Airponics bay since
he would be busy with his usual lunchtime duties.  Harry had tried to
not appear too eager.  The Captain had exchanged a quick glance with
Chakotay, who then asked him innocently if he'd mind taking it to
Seven.  Harry had ignored the snickers coming from the pilot's chair
and said that it would be fine with him.  Neelix had beamed when he'd
shown up in the Messhall, presenting him with an already prepared
basket for two.

The Captain had allowed him to bring Seven her lunch every afternoon,
so for a little less than an hour everyday, barring the usual problems
involved in flying a spaceship through mostly hostile territory they
got to spend a short time in each other's presence.  Not alone mind
you, no, they never got to be actually alone.  The airponics bay was a
popular spot on the ship, being the only place besides the holodecks
where you could go and spend time surrounded by greenery and in this
case, real fresh air.

But it had been nice.  Maybe it was good that they weren't ever alone.
It had given them the chance to simply talk.  Something they hadn't
really had time for before.  It had been a learning experience for
both of them.  Seven had talked to him about her relationship with the
Doctor.  He'd learned to his surprise that their first real kiss in
the Messhall had been her first real kiss, period.  She had been so
obviously uncomfortable with the Doctor's attentions that they had
only progressed as far as one swift, hesitant peck to the lips.

With his insight into her personality he had managed for the first
time, to get Seven to open up to him about her feelings about being on
Voyager.  Slowly with careful maneuvering on his part she spoke about
the transitions she went through, her understanding of her own
humanity and her wishes for the future. Then she had turned the tables
on him and began to question him about his family, his feelings about
Voyager and his own wishes for the future.

He remembered the third day he joined Seven for lunch.  To his
surprise, she took his hand and guided him to what he at first thought
were long boxes of dirt.  "Look," she'd said, a timbre that anyone
would have recognized as excitement evident in her voice.  "I planted
these the first day I worked here. They are Bolian red beans."  She
waved her hands over them and he noticed the bright green of the
sprouted seedlings.  Suddenly, he jumped when a seedling burst forth
from the earth, still wearing the empty seed cap on its top leaves
like a hat.

Seven smiled with childlike satisfaction at his reaction, reaching
over to gently pluck off the plants unneeded headgear she explained,
"When the bean sprouts, it springs from the earth fully upright.  The
sudden action surprised me as well, however the database assures me
that it is normal.  It is fascinating to think that each of these
small seedlings if tended correctly will produce approximately four
kilos of beans."

"It's amazing," Harry smiled, looking at her beaming face, not the
plants.

"Are you detecting something humorous on your screen, Ensign?" Tuvok's
voice brought him out of his musings.

"What?  No Sir.  Nothing on screen," he stammered.  Calm down, he
ordered himself, only five more minutes.  He mentally reviewed the
menu.  He had been in a quandary about serving wine.  Seven, still
appeared to have a low tolerance for synthahol, despite her theory
about developing 'tolerance' to it. But he hadn't wanted her to think
that he was dictating her actions by purposely not having it.  He had
compromised, after Tom had told him he was worrying about it too much.
He had decided to have two beverages.  One synthahol based and one
simple juice and let her choose.

---

He looked up in surprise when he heard Ensign Lang announce her
presence by clearing her throat.  He smiled and gave her a quick
rundown of the day's events and possible problem areas to watch for.
Then headed for the turbolift, Tom entering it with him.  Harry was so
deep in thought he didn't realize that his friend hadn't pushed his
own deck number.  As he moved to exit the pilot moved with him.

"Where do you think your going?" Harry asked.

"With you buddy," Tom said as though stating the obvious.

"Tom," the young man began.  "I really don't need your help.  I have
everything under control."

"Glad to hear it," his friend said.  "That's not why I'm going with
you.  You still have my music data chips and I need them back."

Harry shook his head, "That's right.  I completely forgot."

Tom couldn't resist teasing his friend, "So did you get all the make-
out music you wanted?"

"It's not make-out music, its mood music," Harry insisted, but
couldn't help smiling, thinking about what he had put together.
Pulling songs from Tom's database and all the music he himself had
accumulated over the years he had woven a collection of music that to
him, at least was the most romantic and lush he'd ever heard.

"Whatever you say," his friend said wryly.

They passed Walter Baxter and Kenneth Dalby as they walked.  Harry
pretended not to notice the looks akin to awe they bestowed on him.
Entering the Ops. Officer's quarters, Tom shook his head laughing
silently.  "People are amazing aren't they?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked walking to his monitor and ejecting
the data chip.

"Well, I mean, look at what's happened to you on Voyager.  You've come
back from the dead, experienced alternate timelines, been turned into
an alien and brought back, saved Voyager from the Hirogen," the Pilot
pretended to yawn. "Made no impression on anybody.  But, now the guys
think your some kind of a hero because Seven spent the night in your
quarters and, as repeated by ship's gossip, even gave you a bl-"

 "I told you what happened!" Harry cut him off sharply.  "They can
think what they want, it's not true.  Here's your chip," he said,
tossing it to his friend and expecting him to leave.

Tom dawdled instead, looking leisurely around the living area.  "Looks
like the table is set for a romantic dinner.  Flowers even, huh
buddy?"

Harry shook his head ruefully.  He'd let Tom get in a little teasing,
now that he knew that his friend was supporting his relationship
instead of ridiculing him.  "I got them from airponic's.  I want Seven
to understand that growing things just for pleasure isn't irrelevant.
Right now she thinks if you can't eat it, it's inefficient."

Tom tossed the chip up and caught it in the same hand.  "You know this
setting reminds me of an old song."

"Wait," Harry stopped him, ingenuously he asked, "It couldn't have
been from the 20th century could it?"

"How'd you guess?" the pilot teased back.  "It was written and sung by
a singer named Rod Stewart.  It's about a 'first time' scenario and
the man is reassuring the girl that it's going to be okay."  Holding
his hand up like a microphone the pilot sang into it, in a raw,
rasping voice, "Tonight's the night.  It's gonna be all right.  Cause
I love you girl, ain't nobody gonna stop us now."

'"Enough already," Harry begged him, grabbing him by his collar and
pulling him towards the door.  "Clear your throat while you're at it."

"Hey, I'll have you know that's how Rod Stewart sang," Tom retorted,
allowing his friend to lead him to the door.  "The song fits you two I
swear, another verse goes;  "Don't say a word my virgin child, just
let your inhibitions run wild.  The secret is about to unfold,
upstairs before the nights too old."

"That's the most pathetic song I've ever heard," Harry asserted, as
the doors to his quarters opened he pushed his friend out into the
corridor.  "That fact that you've actually committed something that
stupid to memory frightens me Paris.  You know music actually exists
beyond the 20th century."

"Not on my jukebox it doesn't," Tom said, smoothing the jacket of his
uniform. He smiled at his friend, "Have fun tonight Harry.  I'm happy
for you."

"Thanks Tom.  I appreciate it," he answered, as the door closed.  He
turned and took a quick look around his quarters.  Everything was
ready, great.  Check the chronometer, 1715 hours, plenty of time for a
shower before Seven arrived. She'd arrive promptly at 1800 hours of
course.

He was going to treat himself to a water shower instead of the usual
sonic one. Peeling off his uniform, underwear and shoes he placed them
in the freshener then moved quickly to the bathroom before the
slightly lower temperatures made him shiver.  Finally, under the hot
spray he told himself to relax.  Allowing the heat of the water to
soothe his frayed nerves.  He reached out for the washcloth, held it
up to the dispenser for soap and smoothed it over his body as he
thought about what would happen tonight.

Tonight would be fine, he assured himself.  Tonight, he and Seven
would share a nice dinner, talk and just enjoy each other's company,
alone.  'Tonight's the night, it's gonna be all right.'  Stop it! Damn
it, I'm going to kill Tom. 'That' wasn't going to happen, he reminded
himself.  It was too soon in their relationship for something like
that.  Seven had to learn to be comfortable with him before something
like that would happen.

He reached to the other dispenser for shampoo and lathered it into his
hair. He turned his back to the spray to allow the suds to rinse off.
Closing his eyes, he sighed, allowing himself the luxury of idleness
as the lather ran off his hair and down his shoulders.  He tried to
imagine that the stress of the last few days was flowing off his body
down the drain with the shampoo.

Tonight would be fine, he reminded himself.  He turned to face the
stream of water.  His eyes were still closed as he thought about the
soft smile of satisfaction on Seven's face when he dropped by
Astrometrics that afternoon. Even though she had adapted to Airponics,
Astrometrics was 'hers.'  The Captain had chosen her punishment well,
judging by how happy Seven was to be back in her domain.

Something made him open his eyes, through the cloud of steam he saw a
pair of beautiful, blue eyes look guiltily up into his.  "What the
hell?" he hissed, standing frozen in shock at his completely
unexpected guest.

Seven squared her shoulders, "Harry, I must discuss something with
you, immediately."

"Get out."

"We must discuss," she repeated.

Through clenched teeth, he spoke slowly.  "Not here!  Go outside and
wait for me."

Her cheeks flushed as she nodded and left, closing the door carefully
behind her.

Harry turned off the water.  Slowly he toweled himself dry her sudden
appearance had shaken him.  Ever since he'd cured Tom of his
unfortunate habit of breaking into his quarter's, no one had entered
unannounced in over four years, at least while he was conscious.  He
had to get dressed.  The clothes he had been planning to wear were
hanging over the back of a chair, outside, great, just great.  The
date hadn't even begun and already he seemed to have lost control of
the situation.

He reached up for his long unused bathrobe, pulling it on he then used
the sonic hair dryer for a few moments before impatiently running his
hands though his half dry hair and walking into his sleeping area.

Seven stood by his bed, not suggestively he understood, it was simply
close to the door and she had complied with his command to 'wait
outside.'  Immediately she began, "Harry, I apologize for interrupting
your hygiene regimen. Something occurred today that cannot be allowed
to happen again."

"What happened?" he asked, quickly glancing at his clothes lying over
the back of the chair, heartily wishing for the security of being
fully dressed. Absently, he pulled the tie at his waist, tightening it
even further.

She squared her shoulders, and stated, "While in Astrometrics I
behaved inefficiently.  Several times during the workday I became
distracted and neglected my duties.  A total of twelve minutes and
twenty-eight seconds were wasted."

Harry shook his head, "I'm not understanding this, what distracted
you?"

"You distracted me," she stated.

"I did?" eyes wide with surprise, he chuckled.  "I only was there for
a couple of minutes, to drop off the new sensor readings.  You seemed
pleased to see me."

"I was pleased.  Nevertheless, periodically during my work time I
found myself contemplating our 'date' this evening and the feelings I
have for you.  This cannot be allowed to continue."

He stared at her.  He knew how she thought.  Up until this point, work
had been her life, her refuge even.  She was entirely capable of
deciding to forego a relationship because it was proving to be
'inefficient.'  Plan A was out the window.  Time for Plan B, taking
two steps forward he placed one arm around her waist and the other on
the nape of her neck then he kissed her, thoroughly.

In moments she was returning his attentions, pressing herself closer
and running her hands along his back.  He concentrated solely on
pleasing her until he felt her weight shift and he was just short of
having to hold her up.  Then he raised his head to look at her, she
was breathless, her eyes fluttered open to reveal soft blue irises
surrounding, dilated pupils.  Yes!  He smiled, softly whispering
against her mouth, "I'm sorry that I distracted you.  I didn't mean
too.  I know how important your work is to you.  My work is important
to me also.  But as important as work is, there's a reason that people
allow themselves to be diverted from it sometimes."

"Yes?" she breathed.

"Yes," he repeated.  "Because as satisfying as a good day on the job
is, it doesn't compare to how good you feel when you're with someone
that you care about and that cares about you."

She appeared to consider his statement, her hands still moving over
the muscles in his back, "Your idea has merit.  However I believe that
more research is needed to substantiate it."

He smiled, understanding her completely and kissed her again.  It was
wonderful to feel her in his arms, to taste her mouth and hear her
soft sounds of pleasure that he alone was responsible for.  It seemed
natural to lower her to his bed to continue their exploration.  The
intensity of their actions increased as he moved to press kisses
against her throat.  He reached to pull out the pins in her hair to
allow him to tangle his fingers in the soft, golden strands.  The
feeling of her lush figure pressed against his body was overwhelming.
He fought for self-control, knowing that his robe did little to hide
the evidence of his excitement.

The texture and disarray of his hair fascinated her.  He felt her
fingers running along his scalp, and soft touches of her lips against
his hair and forehead.  Then her hands moved down along his neck,
pausing again as she had a week ago, along his carotid artery pulse,
feeling, he understood now, the life running threw his veins.  Seven
had her own ideas of romance and if this was important to her, so be
it.

Suddenly, she pulled him back to her, eagerly seeking his mouth and he
willingly returned her attentions.  Tenderly, she moved his face away
from hers.  He opened his eyes to find her regarding him intently, a
soft smile on her face.  Her hands began to carefully explore the
lines of his face, her eyes all the while locked onto his.  He pressed
kisses on her fingertips when she ran them over his lips, which seemed
to please her.  Then to his surprise, she began to slowly brush her
cheek against his.  Her movements were almost catlike, innocent but at
the same time achingly sensual.  The knowledge that all of these
sensations were entirely new to her humbled him.

 She continued her explorations, her fingertips trailing along his
neck, slipping under the collar of his robe, he felt her move to push
apart the lapels of his bathrobe.  Suddenly he placed his hands over
hers, stopping her actions.  "Harry?" she whispered, bewildered.

"This is wrong," he panted.  Trying to pull back, his movement was
halted by her firm grip on his lapels and the fact that she had firmly
locked her legs over his.

"If my technique is incorrect, explain the proper procedure and I will
implement it immediately," she responded, urgently.

He smiled, he couldn't help it, "No, your technique is perfect.  What
your doing, what we're doing, feels great.  But I think we're moving
too fast.  I was afraid that you might change your mind about a
relationship with me and I kind of forced this.  That was wrong, you
have the right to wait until it's your decision to do this."

She studied his earnest features soberly, before asking, "You are
saying that if at this moment I wished to cease our activities you
would?"  She pressed her lower body against his, showing him her
awareness of his arousal.

"Yes," he replied, wryly.  "I'd probably go and jump in an ice-cold
shower for about an hour but I would."

He felt her legs unwind from his allowing him to pull back and kneel
in front of her.  He smoothed the front of his robe the best he could
as she moved to face him in the same position, her hands leaving his
lapels and coming to rest on the sides of his face as she spoke,
"Harry, know this, I am grateful for your sense of honor, but you are
not forcing this.  I do not wish to stop.  I wish to continue our
activities."

"Seven," he whispered.  "You know what will happen if we keep going,"
it wasn't a question.

"Yes," she nodded, her eyes luminous with desire.

He took a deep breath, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand.
His eyes were serious as he admitted, "I'm afraid of hurting you."

"I have studied the databases on the subject.  I am aware there will
be pain." She smiled softly and continued, "However, I trust you and I
believe that you will endeavor to bring me pleasure as well."  She
covered his hand with hers, with her blue eyes locked onto his she
added, "Please."

He smiled, "Well, since you said please."  Pulling her close he softly
kissed her.  She sighed with contentment as her arms wound around his
neck.  He stopped, placing his index finger on her lips before she
could speak. "Computer, change of lighting.  Simulate the light of two
candles in the sleeping area.  Eliminate all other lighting.  Also
play Kim music selection Seven-1."

Immediately the illumination changed to the whispery light of candles
and soft music began to play.  The young couple eased back down to the
bed and Harry, taking his responsibilities as always, very seriously,
began to show Seven the amazing sensations the human body was capable
of experiencing.

Later, much later, the song that she had confided to him she
considered, 'theirs' began to play and Seven's sounds of pleasure
mingled with the lyrics and the melody made the sweetest music Harry
had ever heard.

---
Crazy how it feels tonight
Crazy how you make it all right love
You crush me with the things you do
I do for you anything too.

Lovely lady
I am at your feet
God I want you so badly
I wonder this could tomorrow be?

Lovely lady
Let me drink you please
I won't spill a drop I promise you
Lying under this spell you cast on me

Lovely lady
I will treat you sweetly
Adore you
I mean you crush me
It's time like these when my faith I feel
And I know how I love you.

It's crazy I'm thinking
Just knowing that the world is round
Here I'm dancing on the ground
Am I right side up or upside down?
Is this real or am I dreaming?
---

"Bureeep."

"Enter," Harry called out as he walked toward his door, his attention
focused on the last fastener on his shirt, the tricky one at the neck.
He smiled as Tom and B'Elanna walked in, dressed in what Tom called
'Party Clothes.'  "Nice dress," he observed to his friend.

"Thanks Harry," the Chief Engineer replied, glancing skeptically down
at her bronze toned slip dress, the color heightened her already
lovely skin tone and the cut showed off her delicate, yet fit
physique. "I wasn't too sure about the style."

"It looks great," he assured her.

"Told you," Tom grinned.  "But my opinion just doesn't count."

"It counts Paris," B'Elanna retorted, "But you like more of me to show
than I'm comfortable showing."

Tom moved to stand behind B'Elanna and wrapped his arm around her
neck, allowing his hand to rest on his shoulder.  "I'll admit that I
like being out in public with you and touching skin not uniform."  He
glanced at his friend, "Where's Seven?"

"She'll be here in a minute," Harry answered, "She had some last
minute things to work on in Astrometrics and then she was going to
regenerate for a couple of hours."  He didn't bother trying to conceal
a grin, "She's trying to catch up a little."

"I'll bet," B'Elanna rolled her eyes at Tom.

"Well, we've been kind of busy lately," Harry defended himself with a
satisfied smile.  "Listen, before Seven shows up, I need to know, are
you sure that we should be going to this thing with you two?"

Tom patted his friend on the arm, "I'm sure.  When we asked the Doc
who he wanted to invite he put you two on the guest list.  He's okay
with it."

"Really?" Harry said doubtfully.

"Really," B'Elanna assured him.

The swish of the door alerted them to Seven's entrance.  Harry beamed
at the sight of her attired in a red knit dress.  It was simply
styled, knee length, three quarter sleeves with a straight bateau
neckline.  "You look beautiful!" he proclaimed.

"Thank you Harry.  You look very appealing as well," she answered
graciously.

Tom and B'Elanna couldn't help studying the two people in front of
them.  Since Seven had been released from her restriction last week,
allowing for their normal duties, the new couple had pretty much been
holed up in Harry's quarters.  Seven's copious amount of credits had
kept them from having to frequent the Messhall.  This was the first
opportunity they'd had to spend time off-duty with their friend and
his; they didn't even know what to call her, girlfriend, mate,
significant other, lover?

They watched the former Borg, walk over and efficiently close the
fastener at Harry's throat all the while looking into his eyes, then
to their surprise, she pressed a quick kiss on his lips, before
turning to address them, her arm snugly his waist, "Lieutenant,
Ensign, thank you for inviting us to share this program with you."

"We're glad you could make it," Tom replied.  "It'll be fun to do
something together, but it was the Doc's invitation too.  He's pretty
proud of the new program.  And Seven, since your sleeping with our
best friend on a regular basis, it seems kind of silly for you to use
our titles, you might as well just call us Tom and B'Elanna."

"Very well," she nodded.

"We should probably get going," Harry observed.  "We wouldn't want the
Doctor to think we're standing him up."

The two couples left Harry's quarters and shortly entered the
turbolift.

"B'Elanna," Seven said, "Would you answer a question?"

"I'll try," the Engineer responded, doubtfully.

The blonde woman asked, "Why, when festive attire is required do males
wear as much if not more clothing then they do normally, whereas
females routinely wear less in the same situation?"

Tom and Harry shared a look of amusement as B'Elanna pondered the
question, "That's a very good point.  I'd never thought about it like
that, but it's true."  She smiled wryly, "It's not very 'equitable' is
it?"

"It is not," Seven agreed.

"Okay guys," the Chief Engineer said authoritatively.  "Harry,
unfasten that shirt to the sternum, I want to see those pecs, while
you're at it, roll up those sleeves.  Tom," she pointed decisively,
"The vest stays, but the shirt has got to go."

"B'Elanna," her mate said, smoothly.  "You know that's not going to
happen."

"What?  You like to start new trends don't you?" she teased.

"Funny, you should say that," Tom said smugly, as the doors to the
turbolift opened.  He ushered them all forward to holodeck two.
"Harry, Seven, you're in for a treat tonight."  Standing tall he waved
his hand at the entrance. "Sandrine's proudly announces, 'Tuesday
nights with the Doc.' Please enter quietly, no pushing or shoving."

The doors opened to show the usual Sandrine's program, with several
significant differences.  Soft piano music was playing.  The lighting
had been brought down to almost half, while a smoky haze drifted
through the air.  At each table was a lit candle in a colored glass
container that sent sparkles of multi-colored light flickering though
out the bar and across the faces of the seated crewmembers.  They
spotted the Captain and Chakotay seated in an intimate corner, the
couple raised their drinks in welcome before returning to their quiet
conversation.

At the head of the room they saw the piano, back in a place of honor.
Sitting at the keyboard was Voyager's EMH, nattily attired in an old
Earth-style tuxedo, a microphone glinted in front of him and one muted
spotlight shining on him, bathing him in soft illumination.

Harry looked doubtfully at Tom, "I don't get it?"

"Of course you don't," his friend, sighed.  "This is a recreation of a
20th century piano bar.  Bar patrons would request the piano player to
play their favorite songs for them, all the while drinking cocktails
and smoking cigars or cigarettes."  He surveyed the bar proudly,
"Programming in the right kind of smoky haze took forever.  We should
go over and give the maestro our respects."

Harry asked Seven, "You're sure you're okay with this?"

"I am," she nodded, with a smile of reassurance.  "I still consider
the Doctor to be my friend.  Apparently he has forgiven me for my
actions and wished for us to be here."

The foursome advanced to the baby grand.  The Doctor looked up, smiled
pleasantly and ordered, "Computer, continue playing, selection 18.
Ensign Kim, Seven, I'm glad you could make it."

"We were pleased to be invited Doctor," she replied cordially.

The EMH scanned her attire with professional interest, "That's a
lovely dress Seven, did Ensign Kim help you pick it out?"

"He did not," she replied succinctly.  "I choose the design and color
myself from the databases."

The Doctor, beamed with pleasure, "Excellent choice.  I'm proud of
you."

"Thank you Doctor," Seven replied.  Nodding toward the three empty
barstools along one side of the piano she asked, "Is that where we
will be seated?  We will require one extra stool."

The EMH looked slightly embarrassed.  "No, those are reserved for some
other special guests I'm expecting shortly.  There is a table reserved
for you however, Mr. Paris?" The Doctor looked inquiringly at the
helmsman whose attention had been diverted by the lovely lines of
B'Elanna's exposed shoulders in front of him.

"What?  Oh right Doc," he nodded.  Offering his arm to his lady, Tom
motioned the other couple to follow him.  "We'll talk to you later."

In a few moments they were seated, surveying the surroundings, as the
Doctor played the opening bars of a song and then spoke, "And now
here's a special song by Johnny Mercer and Henry Mancini, ladies and
gentlemen, I present for your musical consideration, Moon River."

---
Moon river, wider than a mile
I'm crossin' you in style some day
Old dream maker, you heartbreaker
Wherever you're goin', I'm goin' your way.
---

Tom smiled at Harry, patting him suddenly on the arm.  In a low voice
he said, "It's great to see you two out in public again."  Noticing
the looks of concern on the other's faces, he assured them "It's okay
to talk in a piano bar.  The pianist knows that people are going to be
socializing, while he plays."  With a quick smile at B'Elanna, he
continued, "I'll be honest, I was beginning to worry about you buddy.
I had a vitamin supplement handy and an electrolyte drink ready on the
off chance you got dehydrated or um, needed a little extra energy."

B'Elanna shook her head at her mate's antics, but she was used to them
and refrained from commenting.

Harry smiled sheepishly, "I appreciate your concern, but Seven took
good care of me."  He smiled at her, covering her hand with his.

"Really?" B'Elanna asked with a raise of her brow.  "That's sounds
interesting.

"Yes," Seven nodded, intertwining her fingers with Harry's.  "There
was no reason for you to be concerned.  As a precaution, I studied the
medical databases and took care that Harry ingest sufficient
nutrients, liquids and had ample rest to ensure that he maintain
optimum health."

The object of her affection nodded affirmatively, "Yes, she sure did."
Seven smiled softly at him and actually appeared to blush ever so
slightly.  Tom and B'Elanna who had never seen this side of the former
Drone tried not to stare.

Tom looked at his friend, "What do you say we go get our drinks from
the bar Har?  Sandrine looks a little busy."

Harry nodded, understanding the pilots, not too subtle attempt to get
him alone, "Sounds good.  We'll be right back."

---
Two drifters, off to see the world
There's such a lot of world to see
We're after the same rainbow's end
Waitin' 'round the bend
My huckleberry friend
Moon River, and me
---

B'Elanna smiled wryly at her tablemate.  "Are you up for a little
conversation, or do we have to go to the bathroom again?"

Seven nodded at the Chief Engineer's reminder of the last evening they
had spent time together.  "Conversation would be acceptable."

"Glad to hear it."  The half-Klingon studied the young woman, as she
observed, "You look different.  Actually, you look well, happy."

"Happy," Seven repeated, "Yes, I would say that is an adequate
description for my state of mind.  I am still unfamiliar with many
emotions, however the past week has been an important learning
experience for me."

"I'll bet it was," B'Elanna said, sardonically.

The blond woman continued, "I have experienced many emotions that were
alien to me.  The most prominent was that of contentment."

"Contentment," B'Elanna repeated.  "And that's good?"

"It is good to me," Seven answered.  "I have also developed a new
found respect for humanity."

"Really?" the Chief Engineer chuckled, "Harry must be pretty good."

"His technique is, most acceptable," Seven smiled, enigmatically. "But
that is not what I was referring to.  When I first began observing the
crewmembers, I felt that they wasted excessive amounts of time in the
pursuit of romantic relationships.  With Harry's assistance I have
learned that there is a reason that they do that. He told me that
people did that because it 'felt' to good to be with someone you care
about and cares about you.  I have learned that he was correct.  My
respect stems from the fact that humans, knowing how good it feels to
be with a significant other are able to get any work done at all."

B'Elanna closed her eyes, the full force of Seven's statement hit and
she began to laugh out loud.

---

Harry leaned back, elbows resting on the bar as Tom whispered the
drink order to Sandrine."

"So buddy," Tom said, "I'd ask you how you're feeling, but by the look
on your face it's pretty obvious."

"I'm feeling pretty good," Harry admitted.

"I'm glad," his friend nodded.  "It's good to see you like this,
Harry.  You deserve it."

"Thanks.  I didn't realize how low I'd been.  I guess I just got used
to feeling that that way.  It's good to be happy again."

"Yeah, it is," Tom agreed earnestly.  A mischievous glint flashed in
his eyes as he continued, "So, Seven's been keeping you fed, watered
and rested in order to keep you ready for um, services.  How does it
feel to be treated like the prize horse on the stud farm?"

Harry threw his head back and laughed wholeheartedly.  "You know what?
It feels pretty damn good!"

Tom clapped his friend on the shoulder, before handing him two drinks
and then picking two up himself.  He glanced back over his shoulder
taking in the sight of B'Elanna actually appearing laugh at a comment
of Seven's.  "Well there's something I never thought I'd see.  Let's
get over there before they start comparing techniques."

---

The Doctor spoke into the microphone.  "And now a little ditty in
honor of Mr. Paris, who assisted me in modifying this program.  It's
by Sammy Cahn and Jimmy Van Heusen and is called, 'Come Fly With Me.'

---
Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away
If you can use some exotic booze
There's a bar in far Bombay
Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away
---

Tom smiled at the words of the song.  He nodded graciously at the
Doctor before placing the two drinks down on the table.  "Harry," he
instructed his friend. "Give the pink drink to Seven, the tan one is
for you."

"What is this fluids designation?" Seven asked her brow arched
skeptically.

The pilot pointed to the pink drink.  "That is a 'Cosmopolitan.'  A
popular martini composed of Vodka, cranberry juice, lime and Triple
Sec.  Harry," he smiled, "Your cocktail is called a 'Seven-Seven."

"Really?" the brown eyed young man asked with interest.

"I swear," Tom nodded.  "It's made from Seagram's seven whisky and
Seven-up, a carbonated soft drink."

Harry took a sip and smiled, "That's pretty good.  Thanks Tom."

After carefully tasting hers, Seven concluded, "It is pleasing, thank
you."

Tom handed a drink in a high-ball glass to his mate, "For you,
'Scotch, rocks' and finally for yours truly, a vodka martini, shaken
not stirred.  Drink up," he ordered his tablemates.

---
Come fly with me, let's float down to Peru
In llama land there's a one-man band
And he'll toot his flute for you
Come fly with me, let's take off in the blue
---

"So, buddy, what do you think about the piano bar," the helmsman
asked.

"This is really nice Tom," Harry observed, surveying the surrounding
with professional interest.  "It's still Sandrine's but there is a
definite difference in the feel to the place."

"Harry's observation is correct," Seven announced.  "While you have
only made cosmetic changes to the program.  The atmosphere has
changed.  It is more soothing."

Tom smiled, glancing at B'Elanna with a look of surprise.  The past
week had definitely changed the young women's perspective.  Previously
she would never have noted a different atmosphere or at least
considered it to be, 'irrelevant.'

---
Once I get you up there where the air is rarified
We'll just glide, starry-eyed
Once I get you up there I'll be holding you so near
You may hear angels cheer 'cause we're together
---

Seven fixed her blue eyes on the pilot, "Tom, explain the significance
of the 'Piano Bar' in 20th century society.  Was it, as most of the
popular bars were, a place to meet people in order to establish
temporary sexual relationships?"

"Well, were they Tom?" B'Elanna couldn't resist asking.

"Piano bars weren't pick-up joints," Tom asserted, a little flustered
at the question.  "They were more like a place to go after you've had
dinner and wanted to spend a just a little more time with your
significant other before going home."  Pleased with his answer, the
pilot decided to refresh himself with a quick gulp from his drink.

Seven cocked her head, observing, "I understand.  They were a form of
foreplay."

Her comment sent the pilot into a choking fit.  Harry contentedly
sipped his drink, having had a week to get used to Seven's unique
observations.  He smiled at B'Elanna who was patting her boyfriend on
the back.  She then addressed Seven, "You want to maybe, explain that
statement?"

"Very well," the blonde women said matter of factly.  "These were
apparently places that you attended with someone you already had a
romantic relationship with.  By delaying their departure, but knowing
that the evening would end in copulation, the couples increased their
sense of anticipation.  Therefore heightening their eventual sexual
arousal."

Harry nodded appreciatively, "Makes sense to me."

---
Weather-wise it's such a lovely day
You just say the words and we'll beat the birds
Down to Acapulco Bay
It's perfect for a flying honeymoon, they say
Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away
---

The Doctor finished the song to well earned applause.  A smug smile
crossed his face as he began, "Thank you, thank you so much.  Now
something for our Chief Engineer.  It's by Cole Porter and is called,
I Love Paris.

---
I love Paris in the spring time
I love Paris in the fall
I love Paris in the summer when it sizzles
I love Paris in the winter when it drizzles
---

"What the hell is this?" B'Elanna demanded.

"It's just a song," Tom tried to placate her.

---
I love Paris every moment
Every moment of the year
I love Paris
Why oh why do I love Paris
Because my love is here
---

"I'm going to have to modify his program a little," the Chief Engineer
announced, her eyes glinting dangerously.

"B'Elanna," Tom said cautiously, "He's just trying to be funny."

"Oh yeah," she replied, sardonically, "He's hilarious.  Just think how
funny he'd be in a clown suit with a big, red nose."

Seven said cordially, "If you require assistance in modifying the
Doctor's program, I retained the encryption codes I used previously."

"Don't encourage her," Harry spoke up, patting her hand anxiously.

"Let it go B'Elanna," her mate said.  Placing a finger under to chin
to force her to look at him, his patented cocky grin spread across his
face.  "Besides, you do, don't you?"

"Do what?" she asked, confused by his statement.

Bringing one long slender finger up he traced her lips, answering
softly, "You do love Paris."

B'Elanna sighed, unable to resist the tender timbre of his voice,
"Yes, you know I do.  He just doesn't have to tell the whole place."

Harry grinned at his two friends, "You know what Maquis?  I'm figuring
everyone knew that by now."

Seven agreed, "Particularly the crewmembers on Deck nine, Section
twelve."

Harry winced at her statement, remembering how Seven knew to mention
that particular area of the ship.  To his surprise, B'Elanna stared at
his companion then began to chuckle.  He and Tom exchanged a quick
glance of relief and returned to their drinks.

The doors to Sandrine's swished open to allow red-haired Ensign Lauren
Brooks, raven tressed Ensign Aiko Kyoto and blond Ensign Marin Jenkins
to enter.  The three ladies were obviously together as their evening
gowns were styled to compliment each other's ensembles.  The Doctor
waved to the newcomers, motioning the ladies to the three empty stools
by the piano.

"That's interesting," Harry commented to the couple with them.

"To say the least," Tom agreed, exchanging a sly look with his mate.

Harry watched his friend's silent interaction, "Okay, what are we
missing?"

"It's not a big deal," B'Elanna shrugged.

"Well, I wouldn't say that," Tom cut in, which sent them both into a
paroxysm of laughter.

The Chief Engineer explained, "I kind of spread the word to a couple
of well known gossips about the Doctor's 'enhancements.'  She
explained to Seven, "Just because you weren't interested doesn't mean
other people weren't.  He's had more than a few women coming by
sickbay to show their support."

Seven smiled graciously, "I am pleased.  Thank you B'Elanna for your
intervention.  I was concerned that the Doctor would be alone, he is
not."

"Alone," Tom snorted.  "Hell, if he keeps up the way he's going, he's
going to be begging to be alone.  It's a good thing holograms don't
need to rest."

Harry glanced shrewdly at Tom, "No wonder the Doctor didn't seem too
hold any grudges against Seven and I."

"Yeah," his friend nodded, salaciously.  "I guess you could say that
the Doc decided that three birds in the hand was better than....well,
you get the picture."

"Yes we do," B'Elanna observed, raising a hand to her face wearily.
"And that was another mental image I really could have done without.
Thank you so much."

The Doctor waved a hand to attract Sandrine's attention.  A few
moments later, she approached the piano bearing a tray with three old
fashioned Champagne glasses.

Tom explained to his tablemates, "Champagne cocktails, very
appropriate.

After the young ladies had been served, the Doctor spoke into the
microphone. "I have a special request from Commander Chakotay.  A
little something called, 'Fly me to the Moon.'

---
Fly me to the moon
Let me sing among those stars
Let me see what spring is like
On Jupiter and Mars
---

The foursome glanced at the secluded table the Captain and the
Commander were seated at.  The two occupants were laughing easily
together.  They then settled back to enjoy the Doctor's song stylings
in companionable silence.

---
In other words hold my hand
In other words baby kiss me

Fill my heart with song
Let me sing for ever more
You are all I long for
All I worship and adore

In other words please be true
In other words I love you
---

Harry glanced contentedly at his friend's dancing a few feet away,
B'Elanna's head resting gently on Tom's shoulder.  A few minutes
earlier several couples had taken to the small dance floor.  Tom had
objected, privately pointing out that traditionally piano bars were
only for listening to music.  B'Elanna had then observed that she
respected how seriously he took his holoprograms and he didn't have to
dance, since she was sure she could find who would like to.  The pilot
without missing a beat, rose to lead his mate to the dance floor and
invited he and Seven to join them.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of Seven's cheek against his
and the sensation of their two bodies pressed together moving slowly
to the music.  He suppressed a grin as he sensed her sniffing his neck
surreptitiously but with evident satisfaction.  She had confessed her
fascination with his scent the first night they had slept together. He
said a silent prayer of thanks that she had decided to explore that
interest instead of disregard it.  His arms tightened around her as
the fleeting thought of how different his life could have been flashed
through his mind.

He felt Seven pull back slightly and opened his eyes to find her
regarding him with inquiringly, "Harry?"

"I'm okay," he assured her.  "Just incredibly glad you're here with
me."

Cocking her head slightly she observed, "You are happy."

"Yes," he nodded.  "You make me happy, thank you."

Seven smiled, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek.  "The feeling is
mutual."

Harry nodded towards the EMH singing to the three enraptured ladies at
the bar, "I'm glad the Doctor is okay.  I didn't want him hurt."  He
spoke teasingly into her ear so no one could overhear him, "I hope
you're sure about me.  After all he is enhanced for size, stamina and
multiple techniques."

Seven raised her brow slightly as she replied, "I am completely
satisfied with your size, stamina and technique.  If I were not, I
would inform you."

"Oh, I'm sure you would," he chuckled, nuzzling her cheek and paying
special attention to the implant on her temple.  "It's nice being here
like this."

"It is," Seven agreed, closing her eyes and enjoying his
ministrations.  "While it is pleasing to have your arms around me, it
also feels strange."

"Because we're dancing?"

"No," she said pointedly, "because we are clothed."

He laughed, looking into her eyes, he admitted sheepishly, "I guess we
have been a little active lately."

"Active?" Seven considered his words.  Cocking her head, she observed,
"I believe the correct term is, 'we have been making up for lost
time'."

"It is," Harry nodded, pleased.  "Speaking of which, how much time do
we have to lose here before we can make a dignified exit?"

She regarded him steadily, a sparkle of amusement glinting in her
eyes, "You wish to leave now?  I understood that this program was of
special interest to the Doctor, to leave now would show a lack of
respect."

His eyes, roamed lazily over her features, "Well, thanks for making me
feel guilty.  I just thought that we might want to head back to my
quarters eventually and-"

"You have plans that you did not inform me of?" Seven asked, coldly.
She scrutinized his features, and then stated imperiously, "I have
noted the dilation of your pupils and your increased respiration.  Do
you wish to copulate?"

A smile hovered around the corners of his mouth as he remembered the
same words spoken two years ago by his companion, "Well, now that you
mention it."

Her eyes twinkled mischievously as she demanded in her most Borg-like
voice, "Are you in love with me Ensign?"

The warmth is his eyes made her shiver, as he answered, "Yes, Seven, I
am in love with you."

Emotion threatened to overwhelm her.  She dropped her eyes and
swallowed before looking back up at him, "I believe that feeling is
reciprocated."

"Are you sure Seven?" he asked gently.

"Yes," she nodded.  "I am in love with you also, Harry Kim.

---

The End