Pandering to Prurient Interests
By aqua_blurr
Seven still felt disoriented and uncomfortable. She shifted in her seat
hoping to relieve the sense that her biosuit had shrunk two sizes since her
return. The Doctor had treated her for a minor infection she contracted on the
away mission to Yupeigh-En, and she couldn't quite focus on what was being said
in the Ready Room. A communique Voyager received from the Federation had the
entire crew concerned. That much she knew. And something about a report from a
Neelsan someone threatening them. Seven hoped she could help her new
collective.
"--have to face it. Earth just doesn't care. They aren't listening to
us." The bitterness that had once flavored Tom's bland voice returned.
"I do not understand, Captain. Is there a malfunction with our
commlinks or viewscreens?" Seven swung her head toward Janeway, but her
head kept swinging till she was nose to nose with B'Elanna, who seemed to take
insult.
"No, no, they are perfectly operational. It's us," Janeway
squinted an appraising eye in Seven's direction. Seven raised an eyebrow in
defense. She wished she could remember what the captain had answered or what
she had asked. And were her boobs larger than they used to be?
"We've got to turn this around," Chakotay dropped the padd. He
felt all eyes fall on him expectantly and he rose to the moment. "Don't
worry, Captain, I'll have our best people work on this. I'll find you a
solution--I promise!" His chest puffed to 1.3 times its normal size, then
2.7 times, then 4.62 times and then it popped! Seven gasped and looked around
the table to see if anyone else noticed. They had not.
"Never mind, Chakotay, I've got the answer: A generational ship!"
The captain curled her fingers around her constant companion and raised it to
the crew, who voiced their approval. Seven stared at the upheld mug of coffee,
splattered with bits of Chakotay, as the room took a sharp right turn and
slammed its floor into Seven's head.
A generational ship a generational shipagenerationalship.... The phrase kept
niggling at the edges of Seven's mind as she fought unconsciousness. Clearly
the Doctor's effort at inhibiting the infection had failed, and her nanoprobes
were nanouseless. Nano-nano, she giggled. Humor is inefficient at a moment
like this. It offers no solution to Voyager's problems, she chastised
herself. Eventually, she opened her eyes and found herself... at a table. most
disconcerting.
The mess hall was abuzz with the news of the captain's announcement. It
seemed that everybody had something to say on this new and very exciting topic.
Seven's Borg-enhanced hearing allowed her to eavesdrop on a nearby conversation.
"A generational ship!"
Some solution, Seven thought. Didn't we already have that show?
"Well, it makes perfect sense. At the rate we're traveling, it will
take us another 60 years to get home. Hell, just think, Icheb will be a
76-year-old man by that time."
That is old. I will be even older in 60 years! I must find a more
acceptable solution to this problem.
"Of course we need to start pairing up and having offspring."
Part of that sounded right to Seven, and she decided to sit down and think
about it. Wait, what did he say? Something about paring? Pears? Paring
pears? If Peter pared a pickled pear.... Seven cocked an eye toward the
Fruit Man, whose head kept shifting between apple, pomegranate, and strawberry.
This is an hallucination. I must wake myself up at once.
She did not wake up. She looked over at the group of young people talking.
They were unusually good-looking, by human standards, and tan. Behind the
casually bright dialogue and skimpy clothes, there seemed to be an unusual
amount of sexual tension.
"If the journey does take that long, someone will need to run this
ship!"
Yes! That's it! That is the real problem. She was
glad to have settled it. But no, that wasn't the problem at all. The problem
was... was... Neelsan. Neelsan Raiting. All this talk about pairing and
offspring was an attempt to bring sex aboard Voyager without triggering network
censors!
The sudden epiphany brought her out of her state of unconsciousness and into
a state of undress. She could feel sheets over her naked, nubile form. Her
breasts were definitely bigger. And her hair was down. Experimentally, she
moved her legs and then sat up in the dimly lit room. That is when her
Borg-heightened senses detected the weight of another body next to hers in bed.
With a smirk, the Captain gave her a quick once-over. Twice. Seven clutched
the sheets closer, embarrassed by her distracting lack of clothing and
hairstyle.
"C-Captain," she sputtered. "I demand to know what is going
on here."
"Exploration, Seven. Going where no ma-- one has gone before."
Seven's mind raced over the landscape of the bedroom, finally arriving at a
disheartening stop. There had been no dinner, no courtship, no romance. She
looked at her hands--no ring! In Seven's vigilant research on Earth and human customs
of pair bonding, she'd read every J/7 fanfic and knew she was supposed to have
romance. And a ring. Or a harness at the very least.
With a ring.
She glowered at Janeway, her outrage bubbling beneath the creamy surface of
her flushed skin. Janeway looked... like her boobs were bigger. Intriguing.
After a moment of pondering the cost of CGI for a television show on a minor
network, Seven grew angry again.
"This is a cheap exploitation of a completely valid and dignified
expression of human love and sexuality for the purposes of titillating
lesbians, teenaged boys, and a large portion of adult males not pining for a
similar exploitation of C/P!"
The captain listened slack jawed until the last bit of conjecture wrinkled
her nose.
"Captain! This is unacceptable!" Seven huffed and glanced down at
her naked finger and unharnessed hips, then up again at her lecherous if
glorious love interest.
"Ah crap." Janeway tapped her combadge, "I guess it's a
no-go, fellas. We'll have to stick with subtext."
"Aye, Captain. Out. Er." And then all went black again.
Seven found herself at a picnic, dressed casually. This setting is more
agreeable, she thought as she looked around for her captain. The holosuite
door pinged then swung open to reveal a swaggering Chakotay. Seven felt her
full, sensual lips smile sweetly at him. What? No! She was helpless to
control her movements or dialogue. Damn, those writers are good, she
cursed inwardly. Outwardly she kissed Chakotay.
A commercial break later, the door to Janeway's Ready Room flew open, and
Seven stormed towards her, dragging Chakotay by the arm.
"Captain, I believe something or someone is controlling crewmembers on
this ship. I believe rogue writers are attempting to pair me with Chakotay
without preamble. You and I, we have history--years of quiet, smoldering
stares, battles of will, and passionate though as yet platonic exchanges. What
do I have with him? Splinters!"
Janeway lifted a consoling hand to her strictly platonic friend to soothe
what she assumed would be a hurt ego. Completely unfazed, Chakotay stood with
his chest puffed out, head high, and a smile carved so deeply into his face it
looked wooden. Briefly, the captain wondered if there would be a special
Chakotay-centric episode for Arbor Day.
"Captain! What are we going to do?"
"I beg your pardon, Seven, I'm confused. You didn't want me, and now
you're rejecting Chakotay as well?" Janeway lifted her eyes to consider
the options, "Well, I think B'Elanna is too pregnant to change her
storyline, and Tom's really tied into that. After your one date, Harry added a
no-Borg clause to his contract. The doctor?"
"Captain! No, that is completely unacceptable. What I want... is
you."
Chakotay grinned, "You fucked that all up when you freaked out about
waking up naked in Janeway's quarters. It's me and you, now, babe!"
Seven's eyes widened, her jaw gaped. She turned to Janeway and pleaded,
"But, but, Captain, something must be done about this. It was not my
intention to 'fuck that all up.'"
"Ah, yes. Well, fucked it is." Janeway tilted a sympathetic brow
to the excruciatingly tightly wrapped woman, then held up her hands as if
demonstrating the appropriate use of a human gesture, "Sorry, Seven, my
hands are tied."
"But not in a good way," Chakotay interjected. Janeway shot the man
her patented death glare, but that seemed to be on the fritz as he remained
standing and smiling. She glared again and he blinked out.
"But what about us? Have you not read the fanfic?
Ourloveissopure!" Seven beamed.
"I don't think our relationship was ever about purity. Do you?"
"Then," Seven shot Janeway an accusatory glance, "perhaps I
no longer interest you."
"Seven," she began and then turned to walk the woman back to the
cargo bay. "Seven, I was dismayed at your reaction. I'd assumed that you
reciprocated my feelings, but your reaction--well, I knew it was your first
time, but I'd hoped for more enthusiasm and interest."
"I have interest! I had assumed the 'scene' would be preceded by a
romantic gesture, then a dramatic declaration of your undying love for me. Then
hot sex. And possibly a ring."
"A ring? Really?" She smiled at the younger woman.
"I apologize if my expectations are too provincial for you. I will have
you know that I held no presumptions of impregnation or baby showers, but I had
hoped for one of those harnesses."
Janeway stopped dead in her tracks. She stared at Seven for several moments,
then waved her hand. "Doesn't matter. That scene with Chakotay has already
aired. Can't take it back now."
"But what about our scene? In your quarters?"
"On the cutting room floor."
"But surely--"
"Nope, I'm sorry, Seven, but barring a Delta Quadrant-sized ass-pull,
there's nothing we can do to change what has aired."
"We aired. This aired," Seven stepped within inches of Katherine,
pulled the woman to her, and looked deeply into her eyes. "This unresolved
sexual tension aired, damn it!" Katherine swayed toward the woman,
lips almost brushing lips. Then she shook her head and resumed walking.
Unsteadily. When she'd gotten a few paces' distance, she turned back to Seven.
"Let's face it: you kissed Chakotay. This 'ship has jumped the shark on
its way back to Earth. C'est la vie, all good things, for every door closed and
so on. Personally, I'm negotiating a last-minute return of that Queen of
yours." She winked at a still stunned Seven, "Maybe they can work in
a threesome. Ciao, bella."
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