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In which Seven stays for dinner

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Seven slung her holdall into her alcove and placed her already-disassembled comm badge on the small desk wedged next to it in Kathryn's cabin. She placed it down gently; to slam it would have been satisfying, but inefficient. Kathryn removed her phaser from its holster and put it down next to it, with slightly less restraint. 

Being the Captain, Kathryn was afforded the privilege of her own cabin and a tiny, cupboard-like en suite fresher with the sonic hanging over the toilet, but even so — the room was half the size of even the most basic crew quarters on Voyager. With such limited floor space, the two of them were accustomed to moving around each other. A double bed stretched wall to wall under the viewport, higher than usual to accommodate storage underneath. Stars and a moon were visible outside, muted by the privacy filter. Shelves lined the wall at the foot of the bed, all the way up to the low ceiling. The faint blue sheen of containment fields was just about visible, ensuring that the antique books and various trinkets from her travels were not thrown from the shelves at the first sign of turbulence.

"This would not be an issue if we had proceeded as I suggested three weeks ago," said Seven. Even in private, they were careful of what they said. She was not truly angry at Kathryn, but it hadn't been safe to express her frustration for the past few days, and now it was all rising to the surface. She would have sat down on the desk chair mag-clamped to the deck off to the side, but there were a phaser proof vest and three PADDs strewn haphazardly on the seat. She knelt down instead, and started to unfasten her boots.

"I'm not proving them right about us. We've had this conversation." As she spoke, Kathryn methodically removed the switchblade from her pocket, the small utility knife in its sheath unclipped from the back of her belt, and the compact backup phaser strapped to her ankle under her slacks, lining them up neatly on the desk one by one. Seven set her boots side by side under the chair and stood up to start on her slacks.

"At what cost? Are your principles more important than —"

"You know this isn't about my principles. It's not an option right now, end of discussion." 

Kathryn had kicked off her boots and unstrapped the ankle holster. There was not much room left on the desk next to the large water container which covered half of it, so she tossed it on top of Seven's holdall. The water container hadn't been there the last time she was here. The cap was colour coded yellow, for 'filtered, but not potable'. She made a note to ask about it later. 

"If we do nothing, we will be indirectly responsible for beginning a war which may destroy a civilisation." Seven folded the slacks, draping them over the battered leather jacket that was already hanging from the back of the chair, and pulled her turtleneck over her head. She was left standing in the medical grade black base layer which she wore as a second skin. 

Kathryn unfastened the leather holster strap from around her thigh and loosened her belt with abrupt, jerky motions. "Typical fucking Starfleet," she said. 

She dropped her slacks around her ankles and kicked them away angrily, revealing creamy, space-pale skin, marred only by faint pink scars. They were subtle, healed by dermal regenerators and time, but they were visible if one knew where to look. And Seven did. She knew exactly how many times she had run her fingertips and her tongue over each one. Some of the stories she'd heard, and some she hadn't.

Seven placed the folded turtleneck neatly on the seat of the chair, and crossed her arms to tug the hem of the black undershirt over her head. The garment was soft and stretchy, but it was designed provide compression, and she got stuck in a tangle of limbs with the fabric over her face. After struggling for a moment, she sensed Kathryn's body heat as she came to stand in front of her, and felt her place her hands on her hips over her leggings. Gliding her calloused hands up over her torso and her intercostal implants, Kathryn hooked her fingertips under her soft, breathable bralette and eased it over her head along with the undershirt. She was careful to ensure nothing snagged on her ocular implant, the pin holding her hair in its french twist, or the medi-wrap covering the site of her latest surgery on her bicep.

When Seven opened her eyes, Kathryn was achingly close, looking up at her. Her face was still a storm of determination and righteous anger, even though her hands had moved in a caress. She had removed her simple black tee shirt while Seven was trapped, and was left wearing only her black lace bra and underwear. Seven let her eyes wander all the way down and back up. She reached past Seven to drop her clothes on the chair, crumpled, but not on the floor like her own. Seven laid a hand on the perfect curve of her waist.

"Can we discuss this later?" said Seven. After we've both worked out some tension, she thought.

One corner of Kathryn's mouth tugged up into a lopsided smile. "You started it," she said.

"And now I am ending it," said Seven, and kissed her.

She was not gentle; that would come later. She cupped the back of her neck, leaned down, and pulled her in with almost bruising force. Kathryn gave as good as she got. She stepped forward until they were pressed in delicious contact, the lace of her bra rough against Seven's bare skin. Tendrils of her auburn hair were escaping from her low ponytail, brushing against Seven's face, and she reached back to free the rest of it. The band was stubborn, and she didn't want to hurt her, so she let Kathryn lean away for a moment to tug it loose and loop it over her wrist. Seven had cut her hair for her, sitting in the galley, with the sewing scissors. It was getting long again, just brushing her shoulders. Seven sunk her hands into it.

She tipped her head back, tugging on her scalp, and Kathryn stood on her tiptoes to kiss her. She stepped into her, and Seven snaked an arm around her back to hold her close. It wasn't until Kathryn put a hand on her hip and shoved that she realised she wanted her to move. Seven reached a hand behind her to find the edge of the desk and leaned against it, opening her legs so that Kathryn could stand between them. They were the same height now, and Kathryn pressed up against her, hands bracketing her hips on the desk. She sucked Seven's lower lip between her teeth and bit down, eliciting a low moan. Seven ran a finger along the edge of her bra.

"Do you wear this when I am not here?"

"Sometimes, just for me," said Kathryn. She smiled against Seven's mouth. "Not often." She ran her hands up Seven's thighs, over her leggings. "Do you like it?"

"Very much," said Seven. She put her hands on her ribcage and pushed her away slightly so she could see her better. 

The black lace contrasted beautifully with her fair skin, and the delicate floral pattern suited her. She hummed appreciatively as she cupped one breast through the fabric, brushing her thumb over her nipple. Kathryn leaned into her hand slightly. Reaching around behind her back, Seven deftly undid the clasp with one hand, and guided the straps down her arms. No matter how many times she saw them, she was always mesmerised by her small, perfectly formed breasts, the dusky pink nipples already pebbling.

"Even better," she said. 

She threw the bra somewhere in the direction of the chair and reached out her Borg hand to squeeze one, luxuriating in how it felt, the nipple nudging into her palm. Kathryn winced in pain and she gentled immediately. They were tender today. It was about that time; she should have known. 


Kathryn just shook her head, and snapped the waistband of her leggings against her skin. Seven peeled them off obediently, her underwear going with them. The tight fabric got stuck on her feet, so she leaned back with her bare ass against the edge of the desk and let Kathryn yank them off one foot at a time. Kathryn tossed them towards the chair without looking and raked her gaze over Seven's form. The storm in her eyes had turned to hunger. Seven had nothing left to hide behind, except for the medi-wrap still on her arm. She had felt self conscious about this, at first, but Kathryn had repeatedly made it very clear how much she appreciated every part of her, implants and all. Now she drank in the attention.

Seven stood up amid the detritus, and Kathryn licked her lips. Tearing her eyes away from Seven, she dragged the sheet and the artisan woollen bedspread unceremoniously to the floor, as she always did. It brightened up the otherwise utilitarian space, and was impressively warm for its weight, but it was also uncomfortable against bare skin. Seven put her hands on her hips and hooked her fingers into the last scrap of fabric between them, smoothing her palms over her ass and down her legs to remove it as Kathryn scooted back onto the bed. She lay propped up on her elbows, watching her.

Throwing the underwear over her shoulder, Seven crawled between her legs, and landed resting on her elbows over her. Kathryn fell back, her hair splaying on the sheet. Her arm was mostly healed, as much as it could be with the last module still protruding from her skin, but it still gave a twinge as she put her weight on it. She found she was using her muscles in new ways now that the implants were mostly gone. Kathryn's brow furrowed as she ran a finger along the edge of the medi-wrap.

"It's fine," said Seven.

Kathryn still looked concerned.

"We can —"

Seven put her Borg thumb over her mouth.

"Stop thinking."

Kathryn's eyes became hooded. 

"Make me."

She felt a jolt of heat course through her, and pushed her thumb into her mouth. Kathryn sucked on it, surrounding it with the soft pillow of her lips, running her tongue along the underside as Seven pushed further in and pulled back out slightly. Seven's eyelids fluttered at the warm, wet caress on her sensitive skin and finely calibrated implants. She pulled her thumb all the way out of her mouth with a soft, wet pop. Savouring everywhere their bare skin touched, Seven lowered her hips to lie on top of her, their breasts pressing softly together. Kathryn let her legs fall wider apart as if to welcome her, and Seven felt her heel hook over the back of her calf. 

She kissed her demandingly even as she wormed a hand between them and caressed her breast gently, reverently, circling her wet thumb closer and closer to her nipple until she flicked over it. Kathryn gave a small moan into her mouth that she felt more than heard. Kathryn's hands wandered, one moving up her bicep over her shoulder, and the other tracing along one of her intercostal implants between her sixth and seventh rib. Seven pulled her knees up under Kathryn's legs to kneel either side of her hips so that she could have both hands free, and reached down between her legs. When she ran her middle finger delicately up through her folds, Kathryn gave a small sound and forgot the rhythm of their kiss, her breath hitching into Seven's mouth.

She was only moderately wet, which was not surprising; they had just come from a tense situation. Seven could fix that. She pulled Kathryn's arms away from where they were wrapped around her, smoothing her hands along them until she encircled her wrists and held them to the mattress above her head. Kathryn's hips bucked up into her, and Seven bared her teeth in a feral smile.

The harsh white light flicked off suddenly, leaving them in near-complete darkness aside from the faint glow filtering through the viewport. Seven's optical implant switched to infra-red display, but Kathryn's human eyes were unfocussed, staring through her. She tugged on her wrist, but Seven was leaning on it.


Her tone was sober, not filled with the heat from a moment ago, so Seven sat up and let go of her. Kathryn leaned up, wrapping her legs around Seven's waist for leverage, and thumped her fist savagely on the metal panelling behind her head. The light flickered on again, buzzing, and Seven was blinded for a moment before they were plunged back into blackness. Kathryn flopped back onto her back, her hands landing right where Seven had left them, and glared in the direction of the light fitting as if it had personally offended her.

"Does it matter?" said Seven.

Her hands found Kathryn's waist, thumb tracing over a puckered scar on her belly that was less healed than the rest. Seven had been there for that one, eleven months ago. She had jumped between Seven and an angry, spear-wielding native attempting to protect their sacred artefacts from Starfleet officers. Kes had barely managed to stop the bleeding in time.

"I want to see you," said Kathryn.

Voyager was a few thousand kilometres off the starboard bow, out of their line of sight, and there was no reason to expect any other observers in the area, so Seven reached over to the viewport controls and disengaged the privacy filter. Suddenly brighter, the moonlight was enough to illuminate the room. From this system, the milky way galaxy coalesced in a dizzying display, not dissimilar to the view from Earth. The entire sky was filled with stars, too many for even Seven to count. Gas clouds streaked across them, yellow and purple standing in relief against the black of space. In the foreground, the moon loomed large, reflecting silvery white light from the system's sun. She wondered if it reminded Kathryn of home.

"Beautiful," Kathryn breathed. 

When Seven turned to her, she wasn't looking out the viewport. She was staring straight at Seven, transfixed, completely unguarded. Her hair was splayed out beneath her, and her wrists were lying above her head, as if waiting for Seven to take them again. She did, gently, and leaned down to be close to her. The moonlight cast stark shadows across her perfect face, leaving Seven speechless. This could so easily have fallen into soft kisses and sweet nothings, but Kathryn tried to reach out to her face and found her wrist caught in Seven's unyielding grip. Seven could see her pupils dilate. She tugged harder, pulling down on both wrists, her heels digging into Seven's ass to stop herself sliding upwards, the muscles in her arms flexing attractively. She didn't actually want her to let go; she'd use her words if she did. She just liked to test her. She let out a low moan when she realised how thoroughly she was trapped.

Seven gave in to the heat coursing through her, and leaned down to kiss her neck with renewed vigour. She licked and sucked and bit, and Kathryn tipped her head back to give her better access. Her breathing became more laboured the rougher Seven was with her ministrations, trying fruitlessly to free her wrists from Seven's hands, her legs clamped around her waist.  Seven licked her way down past the juncture of her neck and her shoulder, and started sucking a mark into her skin just below where the collar of her shirt would cover it.

Kathryn was bucking up into her now, trying and failing to find something satisfying to grind against. Seven gathered both of her wrists into her human hand and reached down between her legs. This time,  she groaned when she found how wet she was. She ran a finger between her swollen labia, through the slippery heat of her. Kathryn whimpered and threw her head back to expose her neck, pulling her legs open even further until the soles of her feet braced against the small of Seven's back. When she was like this, she would give her anything. 

She tried to grind into Seven's hand, but she pulled back to look at her.

"Kathryn," she said sternly.

She almost sobbed, but she held still. Seven stroked up and down with barely any pressure, stopping short of her clit, just enjoying the feel of her on her sensitive fingers. Kathryn closed her eyes. Seven could feel the tendons flex under her fingers as she curled her hands into fists in an effort not to move.

"Seven, please."

"Look at me."

Her grey-blue eyes snapped open and bored into her own.

"Is the room clean?" she said, partly because she'd forgotten to ask earlier, but mostly because she wanted an excuse to drag this out a little longer.

"Yes, I did a sweep," she said, growing frustrated.

"And what about the bridge? The hull?"

The feds, as Kathryn referred to them, had been known to launch probes to attach listening devices to the outside of the hull. Kathryn rolled her eyes.

"I don't scream that loudly."

Seven arched her optical implant and pushed two fingers into her without warning, up to the knuckle, meeting no resistance. Kathryn keened for her, high and helpless, so different from the usual low timber of her voice. She was hot and wet and perfect, but Seven held onto her focus with a death-grip. She leaned down so her lips were almost touching her ear. 

"Is your ship clean, Captain?"

She clenched around her, but Seven squeezed her wrists in warning. With a whine, she slowly relaxed her muscles. They were still twitching, but Seven could forgive her for that. Every other muscle in her body was tense. She left her fingers resting passively where they were, not giving her what she needed.

"Yes," said Kathryn. "I always clean up before you come over, you know that."

"Good girl," she whispered in her ear. At the same time, she crooked her fingers firmly into her anterior wall, brushed her thumb over her clit, and eased up the pressure on her wrists.

Kathryn cried out, and just like that, she was spasming around her fingers in her first orgasm of the night. Seven fucked her through it, grinding her fingers upwards and circling her thumb lightly. Kathryn pulled herself closer with her feet on Seven's back, her hands almost thrashing where Seven held them down. She watched her face, committing this to memory.

When her legs were shaking and her hips were twitching away from her in overstimulation and wild eyes met hers in a silent plea, Seven eased off her clit and started thrusting her fingers in and out at just the right angle, making obscene, wet sounds. Kathryn leaned up slightly to touch their foreheads together, and Seven followed her back down. They mouthed at each other, not enough concentration left for a kiss. Kathryn was meeting her thrusts now, fucking herself on her fingers.  Seven squeezed her wrists in a silent command before letting them go, and Kathryn took hold of the edge of the pillow, knuckles white. Seven splayed her free hand on Kathryn's abdomen for a moment, just to feel her muscles flexing, and then moved to lean on her elbow, wrapping her hand around Kathryn's shoulder from underneath. Not that she really needed any more purchase, she just liked the feeling of it — of holding her whole body in her hands. 

It was a slightly awkward angle for her arm, so she braced her hand against her hips and rolled them forward. As she did, Kathryn's feet on her lower back meant that her hips tilted upwards, opening her up, letting Seven reach even deeper. They both groaned. Seven drove into her relentlessly, snapping her hips forward, savouring every helpless little sound that left her lips. The heel of her hand was grinding into her clit with every thrust. There were a lot of things she didn't understand about being human, but this, this her body knew how to do. 

"Need more," said Kathryn, breathless.

Seven smiled against her jaw where her face had ended up, and teased a third finger at her entrance.

"Yes, I need —"

"Say please."

"Please," said Kathryn, without hesitation.

Seven wanted to reinforce that behaviour, so she pushed her ring finger in beside the others, stretching her. She was babbling, meaningless sounds falling from her lips as she rocked up into her. Seven could hear her hands straining at the pillow as she tried not to move them. 

"So good for me," she said, into her ear.

Kathryn's muscles clenched in response, and her breathing stuttered as she pushed the side of her face into Seven's. Her thrusts grew more desperate, and she tilted her hips further upwards. 

"'S not enough," she said.

Seven looked at her incredulously.  She was already stretched tight around her. She scissored her fingers apart slightly, and Kathryn gave a low, guttural moan. She looked frustrated, and she almost let go of the pillow, but Seven gave her a serious look, and she shuddered but held on. She kissed her instead, messy and desperate, pushing her tongue into her mouth and hooking it behind the backs of her teeth. Seven snapped her hips harder than usual, pulling on her shoulder for leverage, and kissed her back before pulling away.

"Do you want my mouth, Kathryn? Is that it?"

Kathryn whimpered.

"Use your words."

Kathryn closed her eyes.

"Yes, fuck. I want your mouth on me."

Seven grinned and kissed her again in reward before moving down her body. She couldn't resist stopping to kiss her nipple, her bellybutton, that puckered scar on her belly. Kathryn groaned in frustration. Seven could imagine just how much willpower it was taking her not to push her head where she wanted it. Finally, she settled between her legs. Her feet were in the air, and her knees just about fit against the bookcase at the end of the bed if she opened her legs a bit. The position made her aware of just how wet she was herself. 

Seven spread her folds with her free hand. She was beautiful, on display for her. Her fingers glistened where they disappeared into her. She scissored them a little, watched her stretch around her, and Kathryn moaned. She was holding her own legs back in midair, and Seven pulled them over her shoulders. Her scent was intoxicating. Seven's mouth watered. Kathryn's heels nudged into her back, urging her closer.

Leaning forward, she dipped her tongue in above her fingers and swiped upwards, flattening it to press gently over her clit. She moaned at the salty, musky taste of her. Kathryn sighed and pushed her hips into her face. She started moving her fingers again, pushing up into her, and started kissing her in earnest. She was insistent with her hand but gentle with her mouth, using the soft inside of her lips and the flat of her tongue. 

"More, fuck me," said Kathryn.

Seven couldn't deny her, not when she asked so nicely, so she added a little more pressure with her tongue and moved her hand more vigorously, leaning on her elbow so she could move her entire arm, driving from her shoulder rather than her wrist. Kathryn rewarded her with a low moan, urging her ever closer with her legs. Seven pointed her tongue and flicked under the hood, with barely any pressure, but she could tell by the way her internal muscles twitched that it was still too much for her today. She stroked her thumb over her inner thigh in apology and kissed her more gently, pulsing her tongue in time with the thrusting of her hand. She sealed her lips around her clit and sucked lightly without stopping the movement of her tongue. 

Kathryn was babbling half-formed obscenities and praises, and Seven drank it all in. Her inner muscles grew tighter and tighter until she was clamped around her like a vice, so Seven stopped thrusting and started grinding relentlessly into the rough structure on her anterior wall, just how she liked it.

"Yes, fuck, you feel so good, just like that, Seven, don't st— ungh don't stop—"

Seven had no intention of stopping. She held the rhythm perfectly consistent, in time between her hand and her mouth. She felt the burn in her hand and she revelled in it; with her Borg enhancements, she could do this indefinitely. And she did, breathing evenly through her nose, for long minutes, but for once she was not aware of her internal chronometer. Everything else dropped away; she was all she could taste or hear or feel. She could map out exactly where her walls were rough or smooth, how much pressure she liked in which spot. She could read her with her fingertips.

"Fuck, I'm close, just a little more —"

Seven fucked into her even harder, and added a little more suction to her clit, pulsing in time with her tongue. She kept her fingers curled and tense, giving her something to clench around. Kathryn let out one long keen, writhing around underneath her, her hips rising off the bed. It gave her a thrill to feel how she was affecting her, but she held her down easily with a hand on her hip so that she could keep the pressure consistent. She didn't worry too much about being gentle; she knew she liked to have a bruise or two as keepsakes. Kathryn lost her fight with her self-control and her hands snapped down to hold her head in place.

Seven couldn't breathe, but she didn't care, because Kathryn was coming, screaming loudly enough for the whole ship to hear. The strong, rhythmic contractions of her muscles around her fingers overwhelmed her senses. Seven nursed her through it, and didn't stop until Kathryn's muscles stopped twitching from the aftershocks and she pushed her head away weakly. 

She pulled her fingers out, and wiped them on Kathryn's belly; skin was easier to clean than fabric. She was quite literally dripping with milky white fluid. Not wanting it to go to waste, Seven leaned forward and lapped it up gently. She squirmed, oversensitive, and Seven kissed the inside of her thigh. Kathryn tugged on the disheveled remnants of her French twist to urge her upwards. Wiping her face on the back of her arm, she crawled back up to her, and collapsed by her side. Kathryn pulled the pin from her hair and threw it on the floor somewhere.

"You're so good at that," she said, and kissed her soundly, the taste of herself still on her tongue. 

Kathryn slipped her thigh up between Seven's legs, and she hid her face in her neck at how good it felt. She hadn't realised how wet she was. She felt almost shy until Kathryn swept her hand over her back and down to her hip, guiding her into grinding against her. She found a rhythm, and she felt Kathryn cup her face and kiss her forehead, then her lips, and then push her away a little until Seven was leaning above her and she could reach her breasts with her mouth. 

She massaged one of them, fitting as much of it in her hand as she could, and sealed her mouth over the other. She sucked on her nipple, flicking her tongue over it. When she bit it gently, Seven's hips stuttered, so she did it again, and pinched her other one roughly. Seven dragged in an uneven breath. She let go with a wet sound.

"Come here," she said, pulling Seven's hips towards her. 

Seven froze for a moment when she realised what she was offering, and then scrambled upwards. Kathryn chuckled. She settled kneeling up with her legs either side of her head. Kathryn squeezed her ass briefly before wrapping her arms around her hips. She pulled her down a little, so she moved her knees further apart. Kathryn smiled mischievously.

"Hello," she said to her vulva.

Seven rolled her eyes dramatically, but when she felt Kathryn lean up and swipe her tongue up the length of her she fell forwards, bracing a hand against the metal panelling behind the bed. Kathryn ate her out with abandon, lapping and sucking her, pushing her tongue inside, and soon Seven was rocking against her, riding her face. 

It was good, but she was too in her head, out of the moment, distracted by the cool air of the room on her skin and her hair falling in her face and the sounds of the ship around them. She could hear a burst of laughter from the garden. She felt like she was observing from outside herself, and she found her thoughts wandering to the situation with the planet. She felt herself growing frustrated, and guilty, but Kathryn was content beneath her. She focussed on her breathing and let it go, like when she was meditating with Tuvok. One by one, she noted the errant thoughts and allowed them to drift away, until all that was left was her — her warm mouth and her hands digging into her hips and the contented little sounds she made, sending vibrations through her. 

She inhaled, held it, and exhaled slowly, all the while grinding against Kathryn's face. She could feel a tension start to build, and she held her focus carefully, not wanting to disrupt it. She massaged her own breast, playing with the nipple. Knocking her hand out of the way roughly, Kathryn took over. Her hands were cold. She let go of her hip to grasp her waist, her thumb tracing along the edge of an implant where it met her human skin. She never seemed to shy away from the Borg parts of her — she almost seemed drawn to them.

Seven covered her hand with her own, lacing their fingers together. The tension was building, building, building — Kathryn let go of her breast and slipped one cool finger inside her, and she was pushed over the edge. She rode it out as it broke over her in waves, leaning heavily on the bulkhead. Eventually Kathryn guided her shaking body to lie down next to her, and she collapsed on the mattress, breathing heavily. 

Kathryn wiped her face on the back of her hand and peppered her with kisses, over her cheeks, her lips, the tip of her nose, her closed eyelids, her forehead. Seven pulled her to lie on her chest, skin to skin. They lay quietly together, exhausted and content.