summary:

Sequel to Perfect Misfits. B'Elanna has discovered that Seven of Nine is not just a Borg machine. Even more surprising it seems that Seven of Nine has a romantic attachment to the half-Klingon that is completely unexpected by everyone including the self-same half-Klingon.
Special warning: I'm afraid Tom Paris suffers mightily in this fic. Mightily.
Notes: This fic was originally written some years ago. It hasn't been on the net for a long time because I didn't really like some parts of it. However others disagreed, so I have decided to make it available with some editing especially in the final chapters.

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:

CHAPTER 7

21 hours and 40 minutes later B'Elanna Torres strode towards cargo bay 2. She tried for an image of studied cool but from the slightly curious stares she was getting she probably would have to settle for nervous wreck. Nervousness dulled her normally sharp senses and she failed to observe a shadow. Tom Paris had followed her down from engineering, less than sober, he was having some difficulty keeping up with the pace she was setting.

As she approached the cargo bay he called out to her "Hey Lanna do you need any help?"

B'Elanna jumped. "No. Thanks but I'm fine."

"Sure you are. What's going on with you and the Borg, Lanna?"

"Tom I don't have the time now."

"Why, afraid she'll wake without you?"

B'Elanna stopped and he caught her up and put himself between her and the bay doors. She looked past him avoiding his eyes.

"Tom I'll talk to you later I promise." Guilt made her more reasonable than her natural temperament normally allowed.

"I don't think so. You'll talk to me now."

"Don't be a bigger fool than usual Tom."

"Why? Are you going to hit me Lanna? Hey that's not so bad, your mechanical girlfriend 's been tryin' to off me for days. I'm not the fool now Lanna. You tried to make a fool out of me but I know better now."

"You are drunk Tom. Get out of my way before I make you."

"You are some Klingon always going to beat up anyone you don't like but a real Klingon wouldn't cheat on her lover behind his back. But I guess a half breed wouldn't have that much honour."

"Shut your mouth before I tear your head off with my bare hands."

"Hey I get it, you like her because she's a machine. You're an engineer and she's a god damned mechanical doll you can play with."

"That's enough you bastard." And she started to swing at the smirking ensign. Something self satisfied in his expression alerted her and she pulled the punch at the last moment. "Damn you but I am not going to spend the next week in the brig because of you. Nice try but you are not worth it Tom Paris."

She shoved him aside, with some force, and entered the cargo bay without a backward glance. She grinned as she heard him crash against something and swear.

Tom lurched drunkenly against against a bulkhead and then fell hard into the wall which to his surprise gave way and he found himself falling down a narrow chute into the main garbage recycler. He landed smack in the middle of the remains of that day's messhall dinners. One of Neelix's less successful efforts. As he landed an emergency alert signal sounded and the computer announced

THERE IS AN UNAUTHORISED PERSON IN GARBAGE RECYCLING UNIT 1. ABORT RECYCLING PROCEDURE.

The concerned voice of a member of the ship's refuse disposal detail sounded in his ears over a comm link. "Hey who is that? Are you okay? Did you fall in?" When Tom didn't reply the voice became a little more suspicious "Who are you?"

Gritting his teeth and holding his nose Tom half garbled his reply "It's Ensign Paris, I stumbled into the chute by accident. Okay? How do I get out of here?"

"Wait a moment Ensign." And Tom could hear muffled laughter. A few seconds later a hatch slid open in the wall above his head and a couple of crewmen leaned down and offered him their hands which he grasped. They pulled him up through the hatch and he scrambled out of the recycler and collapsed on the floor in a greasy heap. Half a dozen crewmen had assembled to see this phenomenon and were now laughing hard.

Tom struggled to his feet only to slip in the puddle of grease and ended up on his backside again. The audience collapsed into gales of laughter again which they tried to stifle as Commander Tuvok appeared at the door with a couple of security officers.

"Ensign Paris you have suffered a mishap," the Vulcan said, stating the obvious. "Could you explain to me what you were doing in the recycling unit? Had you lost something?"

Tom Paris looked at him sharply to see if he was joking but the security chief was impassive. "I slipped and fell Commander. But I'm all right, no injuries."

"And was there a cause for your slipping?" probed the Commander.

Tom remained silent and Tuvok shook his head.

"Curious."

"Aye sir" said Tom with as much military professionalism as he could muster in the circumstances. "May I return to my quarters to change my uniform sir?"

Tuvok considered the dishevelled Ensign for a few moments before agreeing. "That would be advisable Ensign."

Tom breathed an inward sigh of relief, the Vulcan had obviously decided to let the matter drop. The ensign added the humiliation to his list of woes to be blamed on the Borg.

**********

B'Elanna walked towards the Borg alcoves and then stopped to stare at the beautiful blonde standing unconscious in the grip of the regeneration cycle. The Engineer struggled to control a surge of apprehension. This really was outside her normal experience. Absorbed, she failed to notice a slight figure leaning elegantly against a control panel to the side of the alcoves until a low voice shook her out of her reverie.

"Looks peaceful doesn't she and beautiful of course." The Captain spoke matter of factly.

B'Elanna said nothing; like any other member of the crew she knew the rumours about Janeway and her drone. And now she knew that the Captain watched her Borg orphan sleep. Jealousy cleaved the Klingon's heart like a blow from a B'atleth as she wondered how many of the other rumours were also true.

"I thought you might come. I wanted to say a few words before Seven wakes." The Captain spoke slowly and evenly while she continued to look at the Borg.

"You are lucky B'Elanna. On two counts. Seven is a fine individual, one of the best I have ever known. To have her love is true good fortune." Janeway was looking at her chief engineer now and smiling, not entirely benevolently.

"And you are also lucky that I am Captain of this ship and not ten years younger."

B'Elanna bit her lip to prevent a retort.

"I wish you both well but if you hurt her Lieutenant or treat her badly..." The Captain's smile faded and her eyes darkened to gun-metal blue, "I will remove your head from your shoulders with your own B'atleth."

The crude threat coming from the normally restrained human shook B'Elanna to anger and she glared at her Captain. "I resent being threatened and your interference. Seven is not a child."

The Captain's voice stopped B'Elanna's rant stone-cold.

"No she is not a child but she is vulnerable and inexperienced. You are her first love and, if your luck continues, her last."

B'Elanna exploded.

"You distrust me. Why? Because I am half Klingon, a half-breed or because I was a maquis." B'Elanna warmed to her theme "Or perhaps I am not good enough because I flunked your precious Starfleet academy."

Kathryn Janeway folded her arms and did not look even slightly intimidated by the angry Klingon.

"B'Elanna if it had been anyone but you I would probably already have introduced him or her to the airlock. I trust you more than most but you have only recently been involved with Tom Paris."

"Are you going to ask me to state my intentions Captain?"

"I just might do that Lieutenant." The Captain's eyes held the engineer. "Just remember B'Elanna - look after her. She may be strong and brilliant but she does not understand human frailties. How easily we deceive ourselves and others. You cannot assume Seven knows the score."

Kathryn Janeway returned her gaze to the Borg. Her stony expression softened as she stared at the peacefully resting woman and then spoke quietly "it's nearly time for her to wake."

The Captain of Voyager drew herself up, straightened her back and her features reverted to the normal professional calm. She half-smiled at her engineer. "Personnel reports await, so I shall be leaving you Lieutenant. Have fun."

And she left the room smartly leaving B'Elanna to wonder if she had imagined the conversation and to ponder the stress the Captain was operating under, but not for long as the computer announced.

REGENERATION CYCLE COMPLETE.

On cue Seven's eyes opened and as she beheld the dark-eyed Klingon she raised her eyebrow and with obvious satisfaction said, "You remembered."

"Why does everyone assume I am going to let them down" snapped B'Elanna irritably. Seven looked perplexed and a little worried in case she had made a mistake.

"I assumed nothing."

B'Elanna relented feeling immediately guilty.

"I know, I'm sorry. Certain people have set out to annoy me today but I shouldn't take it out on you."

"No you should not" replied the Borg firmly. "You said you would surprise me."

B'Elanna chuckled and her mood lifted.

"First stop my quarters. You will need different clothing." Seeing Seven look suspicious she expanded her explanation, "protective clothing."

"You said that we would not go skydiving?" Seven queried a little nervously.

"Nothing like that. Wait and see." B'Elanna held out her hand and Seven took it, noting how warm it was. The drone stepped down from her alcove and B'Elanna, still holding her hand tightly, led her from the cargo bay.

To Seven the space inside the turbo-lift seemed smaller than normal. Which was odd since Seven's optical implant could measure the dimensions accurately and knew that there was no objective difference. She concluded that acute awareness of the Lieutenant's proximity was affecting her judgement.

Several minutes later B'Elanna ushered the Borg into her quarters and Seven looked about curiously. The room was surprisingly tidy although she did not know why she expected it to be different. A large bed dominated the small room. Low level lighting glowed red against the Starfleet issue furnishings.

A number of garments lay neatly on the bed. Black and slightly shiny, they appeared to be made of a heavy stiff material and Seven observed a faint organic odour. Not unpleasant but unlike anything she had experienced before. Footwear made of similar material was on the floor beside the bed.

"I replicated these for you - they should fit, the computer knows your size."

Seven was confused and a little apprehensive. An uncomfortable thought occurred. Tom Paris had often made joking reference to what a rough lover B'Elanna was. Perhaps that was the reason protection was required.

"What is the purpose of these garments Lieu... B'Elanna?"

"Protection - trust me." The dark haired engineer stood with folded arms and seemed to be amused by Seven's uncertainty.

Fearing that she was about to make a fool of herself the ex-drone picked up the garments and drew herself up stiffly.

"Am I to change my attire now?"

B'Elanna smiled.

"No. I don't want to walk through the ship dressed in these." Seven then noticed that B'Elanna was holding very similar garments. "Come on - our holodeck time is starting in 5 minutes." Seven was now definitely worried. She tried to think of an excuse but failed as this was not a skill valued by the Collective. Instead she followed the Lieutenant feeling the sort of dread that she normally reserved for encounters with species 8472. B'Elanna picked up a carryall by the door and led the way towards the holodeck.

tbc