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By Gun Brooke Janeway stared down at the image of perfection before her. Seven’s body was marred with scars from Borg technology, and interspersed with some that was impossible to remove. Silvery metal bands stretched in a cruel pattern across Seven’s entire body, the ones on her stomach lined with lots of scar tissue. The sight tugged at Janeway’s heart, and she clenched her teeth around a sob of fury paired with sorrow. I thought I had reconciled with Seven’s past. Janeway had thought, because Seven had made such progress, that she was over how the Borg brutalized her. Apparently I’m not. Reaching out, Janeway coated her hands with the oil, still warm, and began stroking, rather than massaging, Seven’s abdomen. Seven took a deep breath and Janeway saw her full lips part and her eyes close. “Feel all right?” “Very pleasurable.” Seven’s voice was a terse deeper than usual. Janeway caressed the metal bands and the scars, as if trying to smooth them out, erase them. Her fingers mapped every unknown hill and valley, enjoying the flawless skin, and caring for the violated parts, equally. After a while, the fine tremors under her touch made Janeway stop. “Seven?” “Please, Kathryn, your touch. It is creating unusual tremors in me. Could my cortical node be malfunctioning?” Sounding so young, almost like she did that first year on Voyager, Seven opened her eyes and looked at Janeway. “No, you’re fine. It’s normal when you’re experiencing something that feels good…er…I mean, feels good in a certain way.” Oh, that’s smooth. “In what way?” “In a sexual way.” Janeway shrugged and tried to make light of the topic. “We’ve talked about feelings all day, kissed even, and massaged each other’s naked bodies. No wonder if you respond this way. Only natural.” “Is that why you shifted several times? And moaned?” “I moaned?” Out loud?! Janeway felt her cheeks warm. “I suppose so.” “Every place you touch me, my skin seems to burn. I thought perhaps it was because of the oil…but, I believe it is because of your hands. You are not putting any pressure on my muscles or tendons. It is more like a caress.” Janeway regarded her hands where they automatically had continued stroking Seven. She had touched just about everything on Seven’s front by her breasts and pubic area. “So it seems.” Not sure where she found the courage, or the desire, she asked Seven, “Would you like me to…continue?” Seven raised her eyebrows, but then she seemed to understand what Janeway meant. “Yes, Kathryn. Please go ahead. I want to experience a full massage.” Knowing full well that her touch was not a massage at all, and it was certainly not appropriate for a masseuse to fondle her client like she did Seven, Janeway used both her hands to cup one of Seven’s breasts. Immediately Seven’s nipple hardened and Janeway felt a moan rise in her throat. “Oh,” Seven echoed Janeway’s moan and squirmed. “Yes.” “Yes, what?” Janeway had to smile. “Merely yes.” Janeway massaged Seven’s breast softly, rolled it between her hands, but avoided direct contact with the nipple. She would’ve loved to touch it, feel it prod her palm before she brought her mouth down… Shocked at herself, she moved over to the other breast, which nipple was already rock hard. She treated it to the same massage and this time Seven arched into her touch, tipping her head back. This time, Janeway had to beat back an urge to place her greedy lips on the fluttering pulse on Seven’s neck. She stopped herself in time and ended the massage by cupping Seven’s shoulders. “There. All done.” Janeway grimaced at how chipper she sounded. Seven looked disappointed. “So soon?” “Yes. It’s late and tomorrow is another day of the Lady Graynce classes.” Janeway smirked. “We might need all the energy we can muster. I don’t trust her one bit.” “You suspect ‘foul play’?” Laughing, Janeway reached for Seven’s robe and held it up. “No, at least not if you mean that she’s insincere. I just think she may have more fun games for us to play, and we need some sleep so we won’t slip and blow our cover.” “Ah.” Seven put on the robe and jumped off the bed. “I understand.” “Good.” Seven stood pensive for a moment and then motioned toward the bed. “I will use one of the Doctor’s hyposprays containing nanoprobes and then attempt horizontal regeneration. I suppose we are going to sleep together that way?” Baffled that she hadn’t thought of the sleeping arrangements until now, Janeway swallowed. “Yes. Of course.” “Will it be acceptable to sleep in this robe? It is most comfortable.” “Sure. I mean, I packed a nightgown, so I will use that.” Janeway knew she was babbling and shut herself up. “Don’t wait for me. I’ll just use the bathroom.” “Certainly.” The room was only lit by the fading fire when Janeway returned from the ensuite bathroom. Seven was in bed, on her back, with her eyes closed. Janeway slipped into bed, quietly, her satin nightgown whispering around her legs as she lied down next to her new bedmate. Seven seemed to be asleep, which surprised Janeway who had wondered if Seven was going to be able to sleep at all. After a few minutes, Janeway began to relax, quite exasperated with herself for her high-strung attitude toward these arrangements. Seven was only doing this for the good of Voyager, and had no idea how hard it was for Janeway to remain objective. Seven picked that exact moment to shift and roll onto her side, placing her head on Janeway’s shoulder, her full lips only a millimeter from Janeway’s neck. The warmth of Seven’s breath was enticing enough, not to mention the Borg enhanced hand that placed itself firmly on Janeway’s hip and pulled her closer.
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