summary:

Unacceptable Losses by halfofone
Part 2:
Date added: 2000-10-31 Rating of this chapter: R

disclaimer:

TPTB are many. In a perfect world I would be one of them but it's not and I'm not. No infringement of copyright/trade marks or other intellectual property is intended. This story was written for fun and not profit.

warnings:

Warning: This story includes same sex relationships between women. If you are offended by this or it is illegal where you live or you are underage then please read no further.

Full warnings, credits and disclaimers can be found in the contents page and chapter 1.

text:

Ten Years earlier - The briefing Room

The first senior staff meeting after the Captain's funeral had a full agenda. A number of issues required urgent resolution. Not least what to do with Seven of Nine.

"Can she be released Doctor?" asked Tuvok

The Doctor's face was troubled. "I am not sure. My expertise in Borg psychology is sadly lacking. She seems much calmer, too calm even. She has refused to consider looking at the Captain's last message to her. She says it is irrelevant now." He paused before saying "And to be honest I'm not sure she should see it."

B'Elanna had some sympathy for that view. The Captain had left final messages for all of her senior staff. Hers had not been easy viewing. The Captain full of life and vigour, and obviously with no intention of dying, had recorded these messages some years before, as was expected of the Captain. She had scarcely known B'Elanna at the time and the slightly strained words seemed as though from a stranger. She had spoken of her faith in B'Elanna's abilities and her hope that the Klingon would have a successful career as Chief of Engineering. There was no hint of their subsequent closeness and nothing to release her grief. B'Elanna deleted the recording after watching it once. She knew that several of the others had a similar experience.

The Doctor agreed to keep Seven under observation for another week and report back.

The next problem was the four renegades in the brig.

"We must decide on the charges to be brought, the conduct of any trial and any likely sanctions. We are not equipped for long term detentions and I do not believe that detaining the prisoners for any length of time will benefit crew morale" said Tuvok

Tom Paris butted in, his eyes slightly bloodshot and puffy, "I agree with Tuvok. We should just set the bastards down on the nearest planet. They wanted to leave Voyager. Well let 'em I say."

"I was not aware Mr Paris that I had recommended any such course of action. Captain what do you wish me to do" asked Tuvok.

There was a gasp and outraged glances from Harry and Tom. By tacit agreement no one had yet called Chakotay captain. It seemed wrong, presumptuous, as though their captain could be replaced after only a couple of weeks. And it contradicted their futile hope that they might all wake from this nightmare and the Captain would arrive for the meeting, certain and brave, carrying all before her.

Chakotay hadn't spoken at all at the meeting. For the last two weeks he had kept Voyager running as it had for the previous six years. He had organised the funeral, comforted distressed crewmen and gone without sleep as Voyager painfully adjusted. The Doctor had been a little concerned about his behaviour at the funeral when he seemed distracted and remote but there were so many demands on the Doctor's attention that he had not spoken to the new Captain at length.

When Tuvok addressed him Chakotay glanced around behind and looked at the door, his handsome face looked confused. "The Captain is not here Tuvok but I will ask her for instructions when I see her. Kathryn will know what to do."

The officers looked at each other nonplussed.

"Chakotay" said B'Elanna none too gently "Captain Janeway is not coming back."

"Don't be silly B'Elanna, my Kathryn would never leave us." He smiled at her as though talking to a particularly stupid ensign. The Lieutenant did not reply but she could not disguise the mixture of fear and pity surging over her face.

Neelix carefully touched the First Officer's arm. The gentle Talaxian, who had seen so much tragedy in his life, now found himself the unofficial ship's bereavement counsellor.

"Commander I think you should get some rest, I'm sure the strain of the funeral.."

"Yes a very fine officer, sad to lose him." said Chakotay looking appropriately solemn. "I will write a letter to his family."

"Who do you think has died Commander?" asked the Doctor quietly.

"What do you mean Doctor, you were at the funeral. A good officer. Sad to lose him." The big man was becoming distressed. "Where is the Captain? She is never late."

"A fine officer Commander," said the Doctor soothingly, "we are finished here now I hope Mister Tuvok." And the EMH looked significantly at the security officer who nodded.

"Now it occurs to me Commander Chakotay that you are due for a routine check up. Neelix would you accompany the commander to his quarters? I will meet you there."

Chakotay looked as though he might refuse but Neelix patted his shoulder again and smiled comfortingly.

"Why certainly Doctor. One always knows the good officers Commander, they have to be dragged to sick bay. But I think the Doctor is going to insist this time so we should both surrender gracefully."

Chakotay smiled uncertainly and stood up from his chair. Then he and Neelix left the room, the small Talaxian chattering away to cover the deafening quiet of the briefing room.

The Doctor, who remained behind, addressed Tuvok. "As the chief medical officer I am relieving Commander Chakotay of his duties which I suppose makes you Captain for the moment." The Doctor looked troubled as though the thought of Tuvok as Captain was somehow disturbing. "I will do my best to get him back on duty Commander. Are you going to tell ..."

Tuvok broke in quickly "Thank you Doctor. Please report on Commander Chakotay's condition when you have formed an opinion. I will then decide what to tell the crew." Tuvok did not seem any more affected than if receiving a normal security report. But his next words did reveal his discomfort with the situation.

"What you have witnessed here should go no further. For the time I will assume command. If there are any questions about Captain Chakotay then you are to say he is reviewing the current situation and is not to be interrupted."

"Yes Commander," mumbled the assembled officers barely in unison. The EMH nodded his agreement and left the room without further discussion - which was strange enough in itself.

B'Elanna put her head in her hands and released the breath she had not realised she was holding. Tom and Harry looked at each other, also not quite able to believe what had happened.

"Kahless! And all because some junior saboteur crossed her bloody wires."

"I concur Lieutenant, the Captain's death was an accident" said Tuvok.

B'Elanna snorted "In the strict sense yeah, that excuse for an engineer mis-wired the device and when the Captain disconnected it the whole circuit exploded, but if the evil sons of pigs hadn't started this ....."

She trailed off overwhelmed by helpless fury. A haggard and distraught Harry Kim picked up the attack.

"They should pay for her death with their own, for the betrayal of their comrades. Nothing can make this right except their deaths. And remember Tuvok they left us hanging helpless in space. Anyone could have attacked us."

B'Elanna could never have imagined Harry like this. In the period since the Captain's death something had changed in him. Bitterness and hopelessness had replaced his habitual optimism as though the Captain's death had somehow defeated all of them and they could not atone for the failure.

Tuvok was implacably reasonable. "Undoubtedly the Captain's death was a consequence of the actions of the renegades Ensign, nonetheless it was an accident. They will be charged with sabotage, behaviour unbecoming an officer and theft of Starfleet property."

Tom Paris shook his head and stood up slamming his fists on the conference table. "It's not right Tuvok. Charge them with mutiny or manslaughter."

"Such charges would not be sustainable Ensign. If they are found guilty then they will receive the appropriate punishment for their crimes. Security will require four weeks to prepare the court martial. In the meantime the accused will remain in the brig under guard."

"For their own safety I suppose." sneered Tom Paris.

"That is correct Mr Paris." He hesitated for a moment before continuing "It is now my duty to report a matter which may have unfortunate significance in the current situation." The Vulcan looked almost embarrassed which was unsettling.

"What the hell else can be wrong Tuvok? Have we left someone else behind?" needled Tom.

Tuvok looked at him with a strange expression. "We have been in the Delta Quadrant a significant number of years" he said evasively. "More than six years." He then paused as though unable to put his thoughts into words.

Gloomy certainty clutched B'Elanna's heart as she sat up to look him in the face. "Pon Farr, you are to enter Pon Farr". She lay back in her chair and stared at the ceiling. Tuvok was almost satisfied that someone had guessed. It was hard for a Vulcan to even admit the existence of Pon Farr to non-Vulcans, it was easier not to say the words.

"Indeed Lieutenant. It is not an immediate risk but it is highly unlikely that I will be able to command Voyager for an extended period. It is imperative that Commander Chakotay be able to resume his duties."

"With our luck! What an optimist .... " Tom's voice trailed off as B'Elanna glared at him. "What? It's true. I'm a betting man and I don't rate our chances."

Tuvok ignored the ensign.

"For the moment we shall carry on our duties within the current command structure. I will act as captain until Commander Chakotay recovers from his affliction. Dismissed."

Sandrines

One evening a few days later, B'Elanna sat alone in the bar after her shift, nursing a beer and worrying about the future. Not natural even for a part Klingon. Engineering was not a happy home and team morale was low. Guilt by association. Several of the engineers blamed themselves for not noticing the sabotage. But B'Elanna knew it was futile, Lieutenant Thatcher had made the amendments over a considerable period and always as part of the routine maintenance work she was assigned. It had simply never occurred to any of the crew that after six years in the Delta quadrant they would be betrayed by one of their own. Tuvok had not really helped the situation by ordering tighter security. The result was a much more obvious security presence in key areas. A mood of suspicion and fear hung over the ship.

There were a hundred stories circulating about Chakotay's condition and surely Tuvok wouldn't keep the truth from the crew for much longer. 'He should tell them' she thought. Nothing good could come of this deceit and the wild rumours and gossip. But Tuvok seemed determined to give the Commander as much time as he could to recover without disclosing the truth of his condition.

The Doctor was trying his best but Chakotay's illness was hard to treat even with 24th century medicine. The Commander had retreated into his own reality, his mind refusing to acknowledge the truth about Captain Janeway's death.

Remembering him as the strong independent Maquis commander and seeing him now, B'Elanna could hardly bear to be near him but she made herself visit him everyday and despised herself as her heart shrivelled inside her when he asked her in. Sitting in his quarters, talking to him B'Elanna found his gentle insistence on consulting the dead Captain unnerving. Any attempt to contradict the illusion sent the normally unflappable officer into a rage or even worse made him cry like a frightened child.

B'Elanna would talk to him about Voyager and engineering and he would advise her gently and persuasively as he had always done, and sometimes she would almost forget that he was ill, until inevitably he would say "Ask the Captain" or "I'll speak to the Captain".

Imperceptibly the behaviour of the crew had begun to change. They were not as smart, not so thorough. B'Elanna had had to reprimand two of her staff for not turning up for their shifts.

She tried to tell Chakotay about her fears and how much harder everything seemed.

"Why don't you ask Seven to help you in Engineering?" He said. "She could take some of the load and I'm sure the Captain wouldn't mind. She thinks so much of Seven and of you, she would be pleased to see you work together, very pleased." He stopped speaking as he listened to his Captain. "Yes Kathryn I'm sure that would work" he replied.

B'Elanna felt chill fear and revulsion grip her stomach and quickly rose up to leave thanking him for his advice, unable to stay any longer. When she got outside his quarters she leaned against the wall and felt the bile rise in her throat. She stood and breathed deeply until the nausea subsided. She had never needed a drink so much in her young life and that is how she found herself in Sandrines staring into a beer and worrying about what was to come.

Chakotay's advice about Seven came back to her and she surprised herself by considering it seriously. Seven was still being monitored by the Doc but perhaps it would help her to have some work to return to and Seven could certainly assist B'Elanna with her current problems. Feeling a little better B'Elanna got to her feet chugged the last of her beer and set off for sick bay.

Sick Bay

The Doc was fussing around annoying Tom Paris who looked very relieved at B'Elanna's entrance.

"B'Elanna! Just the woman. Sorry Doc, have to go I need to discuss an engineering problem." The pilot winked at B'Elanna.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows and looked most cynical "I have no doubt Mr Paris that there is an urgent need to discuss your latest trick pool shot but these patient notes must be updated now."

"Sorry Tom I came by to see Seven" said B'Elanna. She smirked at the disappointed pout.

"Where is she?" The drone was not lying on the usual biobed.

"I released her 30 minutes ago Lieutenant. She has returned to cargo bay 2 to regenerate. Why do you want to speak to her?" The EMH was curious as to why the Lieutenant would want to speak to Seven.

Hearing the news B'Elanna felt her spirits lift, "Is she fit for duty Doc?"

The Doctor spoke a little doubtfully.

"In my opinion she is not a danger to anyone but she is still somewhat withdrawn and sitting in sick bay all day was not helping. Returning to duty may be beneficial but she should not do too much at least for the first few days."

B'Elanna hummed to herself as she walked to cargo bay 2. I've missed the arguments and the bickering she thought. I'm actually looking forward to seeing that superior expression. "Your methods are inefficient Lieutenant" she mimicked out loud and grinned broadly at two surprised ensigns.

The engineer entered the cargo bay with a welcome feeling of optimism. She stopped puzzled. "Seven?" The regeneration alcove was empty "Seven are you here?"

"Lieutenant Torres" said a supercilious voice behind her and B'Elanna turned round to see the ex-drone entering the cargo bay.

"Sorry I was expecting to find you here already." She carefully appraised the Borg and was relieved that Seven appeared as normal. Unemotional, calm, tall, blonde, gorgeous ...... B'Elanna mentally shook herself as the adjectives ran away with her and tried to concentrate on the ex-drone's words.

"I attended to some matters in Astrometrics first." she said without inflection and walked past the engineer and prepared to step into her alcove.

B'Elanna paused, she had never asked the Borg for help before. "How are you feeling Seven?"

"I am functioning with..."

"... within normal parameters, I know. But how are you feeling?"

Seven didn't answer and B'Elanna tried again. "Are you up to a stint in engineering. I could use the help." Seven flinched and something like pain washed over her face.

"I do not think engineering would be ... suitable. We do not work well together." The blond avoided B'Elanna's eyes. "I do not wish to return to engineering."

"Seven you are not the only one who misses the Captain but we have to move on. Voyager needs you and the crew need you." said B'Elanna harshly.

Seven's expression hardened and in a chilly voice she replied "You are mistaken Lieutenant no one needs me. I am aware that apart from Captain Janeway, I was an unwelcome addition to this crew."

B'Elanna abruptly lost patience "Seven this is self pity and whatever our differences I never expected to hear you whine like a miserable p'taq. You will report to engineering tomorrow for the alpha shift."

"No"

Trying not to shout and against her better judgement B'Elanna tried reason again. "Listen I know how you felt about her and I am truly sorry but she would be horrified at your behaviour. Seven this is hard, but this ship, this collective is falling apart and it needs us to try and hold it together. In your heart you know Kathryn would want us to save her ship and her crew regardless of the cost to ourselves and our own feelings."

That got a reaction from Seven who stepped towards the engineer with rage in her clear blue eyes. "You know nothing of my feelings Lieutenant Torres. And now that Captain Janeway is dead her opinion is irrelevant also." Her voice rose sharply as she said this and she folded her arms across her chest tightly.

B'Elanna swallowed the insult that rose to her lips and stuck to the argument.

"You know that is not true Seven. Okay you loved her and she died. Many people I loved in the Maquis are now dead but I moved on. The ones you love don't want you to die with them."

The ex-drone replied angrily "I recall Lieutenant that you did not handle that news well and you did not 'move on' before trying to kill yourself repeatedly."

"Hell's bells I was not trying to kill myself" B'Elanna roared losing control for a moment and then with a supreme effort calmed herself to continue through clenched teeth "but it's true I needed help, now let me help you. Have you talked about your feelings to anyone, cried for her?"

"Borg do not cry." said Seven shortly.

"Nor do Klingons, we have no tear ducts, but I am not all Klingon and you are not all Borg, and perhaps it is time to learn to cry. This evening," said the Chief Engineer determinedly, "we are going to mourn her properly. I will invite Tom and Harry. Neither is in much better shape than you."

"I do not think ... "

"Seven, don't think just comply."

For a small eternity Seven stared at her and then nodded "I will comply - but on condition that Mr Paris and Mr Kim do not attend."

B'Elanna exhaled slowly and nodded and promptly wondered what the hell she had gotten herself into. Sometimes she wished she were more Klingon with a ritual for everything. Songs, pain, inedible food, deadly quantities of blood wine, bloody tales of death and everyone goes home feeling better or at least dead drunk.

'But I know nothing about all this emotional stuff,' she thought in a panic, 'I'll have to improvise - I'm good at that but what the hell am I going to do with her?'

B'Elanna's quarters

At eleven p.m. sharp Seven sounded the door entry of B'Elanna's quarters and when the door opened she almost turned on her heel and left. The lieutenant's rooms were dark and unfamiliar tinny music assailed her ears. The smell of smoke and alcohol continued the assault on her senses. She was about to sound the fire alarm when Lieutenant Torres emerged from the gloom.

"Quick Seven get inside before the sensors detect the smoke. I have disabled them in here."

Seven acquiesced, crossed the threshold and the door hissed shut. She looked doubtfully round in the gloom. "Why have you set fire to your room Lieutenant?"

"I haven't, it is cigarette smoke and burning incense." B'Elanna felt foolish. The idea had been to replicate an informal, less antiseptic environment than the norm on Voyager. Usually she would have used the holodeck but both were fully booked for the evening so she had made do with some replicated Trill cigarillos and burning Vulcan meditation oils. The latter were widely used by non-Vulcans for their mood enhancing properties.

"For what purpose?" asked Seven dispassionately which did nothing to ease B'Elanna's sense of absurdity.

"Atmosphere" she answered too sharply. "Atmosphere which is rapidly dissipating in all senses so no more questions Seven, I want you to stop dissecting everything and relax" and muttered to herself "if we are both to come out of this alive."

"Relaxation will be difficult in a room where 10.4 percent of the air contains unbreathable or toxic gases."

B'Elanna ignored the jibe "Would you like a drink Seven and please don't tell me you don't require it at this time?" she said quickly as Seven started to make the automatic response.

"What are you drinking Lieutenant?" Seven asked politely but awkwardly.

"Scotch whisky. Probably too strong for you."

Seven's chin went up "I will have the same Lieutenant. I have adjusted my implants to remove synthehol toxins more thoroughly."

"If you insist but I'll make it a small one." B'Elanna did not want to manage a blind drunk grieving Borg.

"How do you propose we proceed Lieutenant?" Seven asked as B'Elanna handed her a small glass of amber-coloured alcohol. It was replicated but was a reasonable imitation.

"I am beginning to wonder myself, since you won't let me invite anyone else it is going to make things more difficult with just two of us."

"What would we have done with the additional personnel?"

"Er, we would have drunk and eaten together and everyone would have shared stories of the Captain both good and bad, we would have argued, fought and perhaps cried. And then we would all fall into bed drunk and emotionally exhausted and wake up tomorrow with hangovers and maybe we would start to leave the grief behind. That's the theory behind a wake - probably doesn't work but there it is."

"Why do we require more than two people for this purpose?" Since Seven said this in the same way she would when considering a not very interesting sensor procedure B'Elanna wondered again what insane impulse had made her even consider this.

She hesitated before thinking of a reply. "Well neither of us is much good at expressing our feelings. A couple of humans might make it go with more of a swing." Seven lifted her implant very slightly and B'Elanna added with a slight grin "Humans are altogether too good at expressing emotion."

"We will not require their assistance Lieutenant." Seven was firm and B'Elanna felt oddly honoured at being included in a collective of two by the Borg.

Seven took a sip of her whisky and her face twisted at the taste and the burning feeling as she swallowed. "You drink this for pleasure?"

"It is an acquired taste Seven. Some of the best things are - and for a few hours it will make the world seem like a better place."

B'Elanna immediately regretted saying that as Seven promptly tipped up her whisky glass and swallowed the lot. 'Oh stop fussing Torres' said a smirking inner voice 'she is not an infant and getting a little drunk was part of the plan wasn't it?'

Seven was coughing a little but held out her glass for a refill without hesitation.

B'Elanna poured a small shot into the proffered glass. "Sit over there Seven and I'll get you something to eat with your drink." She returned with a bowl of Kelva nuts. Famous for two reasons - their almost fluorescent green colour and the mellowing effect widely valued by partygoers across the Delta quadrant.

Neelix had served them once on yet another Talaxian holiday. The effect on the crew had been dramatic enough for the Captain to ban them from all future celebrations. The sight of half of her command crew holding hands and crooning was unnerving and somehow not very Starfleet. The EMH had assured the Captain that aftereffects were minimal and the nuts were not chemically addictive. This had not altered the Captain's traditionalist mind, which found the idea of chemical pleasure without consequence even more disturbing. The nuts had immediately become a necessary, if illegal, staple at private parties.

Seven looked at the green glowing, cherry-like nuts incuriously. She knew what they were. The Borg had assimilated many cultures that knew how to have a good time. She took three and consumed them in quick succession.

"Hey there's no rush. We have all night." B'Elanna suppressed another twinge of apprehension. The ex-Borg seemed calm. She was sipping her whisky and staring at nothing in particular. B'Elanna took the chance to look at her carefully and noticed a very slight trembling in the hand holding the whisky glass. And she was too pale, drained of blood much like the drone she had once been.

B'Elanna then had the strange impression that Seven was looking at something after all, her expression altering minutely as some event played in her mind.

The half-Klingon cursed under her breath as she realised with a stab of insight that for Seven the events of the last week would never be forgotten. For the alpha quadrant crew time would erode the memories and the pain but Seven had immediate and complete access to everything she had experienced since becoming Borg. Except now there was no Borg collective to filter out the 'irrelevant' emotions. Perhaps chemically lowering Seven's self control was a really lousy idea.

"Seven" she said gently, trying to interrupt the ex-Borg's thoughts.

"I could have done nothing differently" said Seven unexpectedly placing her glass on the floor. "There is nothing to be learned from this, nothing I could change." The lovely face contorted and she folded her arms tightly around herself shrinking back into her seat.

"That's true." B'Elanna spoke carefully, unsure where this was going.

Seven continued to mutter like someone repeating a mantra. "It was 'bad luck'. It could have happened to anyone." She curled herself into a smaller package than her two-metre frame should allow.

"Why her?" she whispered.

B'Elanna was a little freaked. Either Seven had swallowed a book of platitudes to comfort those in distress or the EMH had a lot to answer for. And it was obvious that she wasn't comforted in the least.

"Seven .... I don't know the reason the Captain died and not someone else. I don't think there is one. We live a dangerous life ...."

"No" said Seven. "Why do I love her? Why could I not love Ensign Kim or Tuvok or you?" Seven of Nine began to cry painfully and awkwardly.

The turn of conversation was too much for B'Elanna. She gulped her drink. She had expected stilted and polite conversation or argument from the ex-drone not hearts-on-sleeve confessions and tears.

B'Elanna knelt down by the sobbing woman. "Seven I'm sorry." She stroked the fair hair and murmured "It will be okay, I'll look after you. Don't cry. Don't cry ...." Seven uncurled enough to allow B'Elanna put her arm around the narrow shoulders.

"... unless you need to" she amended and cursed herself equally for being so inadequate and for getting into this in the first place. On impulse she leant down and kissed one tear-stained eye and then the other. Her lips brushed the cortical implant over Seven's left eye.

She felt Seven withdraw slightly and pulled away somewhat to meet her gaze. In a few achingly slow seconds B'Elanna Torres lost both her hearts to the pain-darkened blue eyes. She buried her fingers in the soft hair and slowly bent to kiss grief-reddened lips.

Strong hands placed on her shoulders held her back. Distressed B'Elanna tried to stand. But the same hands held her still.

"I'm sorry Seven. I shouldn't have done that." she muttered staring hard at a point just over Seven's shoulder.

"You are attracted to me" Seven stated. Her voice shook but B'Elanna was unable to discern whether it was fury, amusement or too much drink. B'Elanna was embarrassed beyond any measure. And she was uncomfortable at how easily Seven was restraining her. It was disturbing to find herself so much weaker than someone else. She was accustomed to being amongst the strongest on the ship.

"Let me go. I said I was sorry."

Seven gave no sign of hearing her and her grip tightened until it hurt.

"Captain Janeway did not want me. She preferred a non-sentient hologram to a reclaimed Borg." Seven slurred her words fractionally and regarded her with an expression that B'Elanna could only describe as speculative. "Do you want me Lieutenant?"

"Look it was wrong for me to take advantage and it won't happen again. Okay? So release me." B'Elanna twisted her body in an attempt to free herself. Seven barely seemed to notice.

"Lieutenant Torres I asked you a question. Do you want me?" Seven gripped her even harder and shook her slightly. B'Elanna opted for blunt truth.

"Yes. I want you" she yelled. B'Elanna was angry and humiliated, her inner Klingon screaming at the indignity. "Now let me go or I'll hurt you Dammit...."

"You may have me, if you wish" Seven said quietly. Seeing the disbelief in the half-Klingon's wide eyes a hint of desperation played over the beautiful face. She released her hold on the struggling woman's shoulders and wrapped her arms around B'Elanna's small form and, taking advantage of B'Elanna's shock Seven kissed her mouth swiftly, gently. B'Elanna jerked her head away.

Seven's fragile composure collapsed.

"Lieutenant Torres. Please, " begged the ex-drone. "I am....lonely. I would expect nothing but I cannot be alone any more."

Her anger vapourised by pity, B'Elanna ceased to struggle within the powerful arms that held her and relaxed against the lean body. Seven moaned and then began to kiss her in earnest. A tide of desire caught B'Elanna by surprise, flooding her nerve-endings. But she clung to reason.

"Seven this is a really bad idea. Neither of us is ready for this. It's too fast" she argued although her body was busy asserting that it was ready, more than ready.

Logic screamed that this was lust, created by grief-fuelled loneliness and given release by alcohol. 'Oh to hell with logic.' snorted her inner voice. 'You are a Klingon hybrid not a snivelling Vulcan. And where in Kahless' name did she learn to kiss like this?'

Her train of thought derailed completely as she felt Seven's hands slide under her Starfleet issue tee-shirt and move against her skin. Klingon blood thundering through her veins, B'Elanna Torres ceased to be a passive participant. She smiled fiercely as Seven's head went back gasping. Perhaps this would help after all and it was too late to stop now. Much too late ....