The BLTS Archive - Guilty Thoughts
by Sethos (unsknownscribler@hotpop.com)

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Archive: Ask, so I'll know where

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"Kiss me..."

The two words drift quietly across the darkened room, pregnant with
longing and unfullfilled desire.

Kathryn Janeway's head snaps around with enough force to make her neck
twinge, the PADD in her hand made irrelevant by something she's not
even sure she's heard.

In her alcove, Seven of Nine remains still, locked in the stasis of
her regen-eration period, green fire dancing above her head. Only the
slight rise and fall of her chest give any indication that she's
alive.

Convincing herself she's imagining things, Janeway returns to her
reading with a self-depreciating shrug.

Time passes. Maybe minutes, maybe seconds.

"...need..."

Setting the PADD down, she stands and walks across the short distance
separating Seven and herself, brow furrowed.

"...feel pain..."

The look of confusion on Janeway's face becomes one of astonishment as
she watches the almost imperceptible movement of Seven's lips. She
walks over to the console controlling the alcove, checking the
readings as her fingers hover indecisively above the touch panel that
will rouse the former Borg.

"It says everything's fine," she mutters to herself, husky voice made
sepulchral by the size of the cargo bay, unable to shake the feeling
that there is something wrong. For the past two years, standing watch
over her charge has been a duty silent but for the background noise of
the technology that succors them. Even though Seven has admitted to
dreaming recently as the Borg side of her nature continues to recede,
the very nature of the regeneration process has meant Seven has been
unable to give voice to any poof the little sounds that accompany
them.

Until now.

"...complete me"

An hour left, according to the display.

Kathryn looks up at Seven again, looks up at the young woman looking
like a giant doll in a display case, and feels a sudden sense of
shame. A person's thoughts are the last bastion of their right to
privacy, a right that living within Voyager's confined environment
necessarily erodes. But for Seven, on constant display in these
ridiculous suits the Doctor designs and under constant scrutiny by the
rest of the crew, and lacking even quarters that everyone cannot
access, thoughts are her only privacy.

"I can't take that away from her," she says to herself, backing away.
"I don't have the right." Turning, she almost runs out of the cargo
bay, desperate not to hear anything else.

"Computer, until Seven of Nine leaves, deny all access to Cargo Bay
Two. My authorisation."

With that, Kathryn leaves, in sudden need of a shower.

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The End