I took them out of a nice warm California where lots of females petted them and
scratched their bellies, and brought them to Indiana. An Indiana with snow up past their tailbone.
Every
time they go out the door they’re hoping it’ll be San Francisco out there, and
it isn’t.
So
I put on a set of Weathers and burrowed the few meters to the big Flic I came
in on. Then I dug through my Carry of
dress uniforms until I found my sidearm.
Commodores, like Admirals, are allowed to either wear swords, or pack
Phasers in a nice fancy dress holster with gold tassels and everything.
While
not exactly on its list of official specs, wide dispersal at killing intensity
acted as a snow remover par excellence.
Heat the snow to steam, thaw the ground enough so the ice doesn’t form,
and Voila!
Drained
the charge like you wouldn’t believe, but I just stuck it into the adapter
outlet for the house fusion power plant, and the charge was all back up in an
hour and a half. Then it was outside
again and more snow removal. In no time
Sam and Jake were bestowing their gifts on the black Oak in front, and being
much, much happier.
I
left my Phaser in the recharge outlet, and went to bed. It took a little coaxing (read: a good swift
kick) to get the dogs to decide the floor was almost as desirable a sleeping
place as lying on top of me was. Later
on I discovered both of them were at the foot of the bed, but as they were
leaving me alone, I let sleeping dogs lie.
Snoring I could stand.
Then I awoke with the dogs gone and noises downstairs.
This is a joke, right? Burglars in Indiana
in the dead of winter?
That
House Computer didn’t raise an alarm, however, and that sent a thrill of alarm
down my back. It didn’t even turn the
lights on. Also the dogs were not
raising a ruckus. Granted my faith in
their watchdog abilities approached zero, still they should have made some sort
of noise.
My
Phaser was still in the recharge outlet downstairs.
What
could I use for a weapon?
Then
I sensed, almost saw, a figure in my doorway.
The dogs were clattering around, their claws making noises, but
otherwise silent.
Ferocious
guard dogs. Yeah, right.
I
eased the top drawer open on one of the nightstands, and grabbed whatever was
to hand. Then I was out of bed and
pointing it at the figure.
“Stop
or I’ll use this.”
The
figure froze, and the dogs finally started whining and making those weak
controlled barks dogs do when they’re unsure of what next to do.
“On
the floor! Face down! Hands over your head!
“Lights!”
I ordered Computer.
Dressed
in cowled blue and dark green Weathers, I didn’t see the face of my burglar.
Then
the vibrating dildo I was holding threateningly, it decided to make a fierce
buzzing noise. Phoebe had a few Toys
handy for when she was at the farm.
Oh
damn! I’m toast.
Seven
of Nine raised her head and gave me a nice almost-human-type warm smile.
“Is
that a threat or a promise? That you’ll
use that?”
---------------------------
Later,
when we were both wrapping our stomachs around some hot cocoa, I asked how she
managed to keep the dogs quiet.
“I
told them not to make any unnecessary noise,” she replied. Looking at me a little funny as if to ask
wasn’t that what I also said to them to shut them up?
Me
and my dogs were going to have a serious man-to-man talk sometime soon.
I
thought the small trace of a cocoa moustache on Seven’s upper lip was
adorable. Hell, let’s face it, I
thought all of Seven was adorable.
Seven
had left Chakotay. As she did part-time
work for a Robotics firm, she could afford to buy her own big Flic. I’d figured she hadn’t walked.
Feeling
unsure of herself, rudderless, floating mastless and without an anchor, the
rocks of the coast off her leeboard bow, lost in the dense fog of love gone
awry, and traversing a perilous harbor with no pilot on board, she had gone to
a skilled Betazoid professional Counselor who could guide her into the next
phase of her life.
Namely,
me.
Seven
honked into another tissue. Of all the infinite possibilities out there,
I had never considered the one where Seven of Nine was literally crying onto my
shoulder.
I
would have loudly rejoiced in her progress in becoming assimilated by the human
collective, except that it disconcerted me almost as much as it did her.
It’s
a good thing I went with hot cocoa instead of coffee. For four hours I drank cocoa and patted Seven on the shoulder, as
well as giving her more tissues and a good hug or four. Coffee would have had me bright eyed and
bushy-tailed for a week.
After
a while Seven began to wind down. I was
already wound down. It’s amazing how
non-sexy someone appears when they’re crying.
It
was encouraging to hear her story, and to see her becoming so very human. It was also discouraging to hear the usual
litany on her lips.
Seven
had discovered sex, for one thing. She
also discovered she desired much more closeness than she was getting from
Chakotay. The ordinary sort of things. Give a hug at odd moments. Want sex at inappropriate times. Do small favors for the other. Touch.
Caress even when it doesn’t lead to anything. Hope for words of encouragement.
Instead
Chakotay wandered off into the worlds of his Spirit Guide. After a while Seven would have loved to meet
the fucking goddamn Spirit Guide in an arena where she could tear it into
random strips of ectoplasm.
It
was all ..... so very ..... ordinary.
The
sex part was interesting, at least.
Orgasms were not irrelevant.
Getting them from Chakotay became all but impossible. Spirit Guides.
Being
a creature that desired perfection in all things, Seven had gone out and tried
to find some perfection. If Chakotay
wasn’t going to provide perfection at home, well, adios.
She’d
tried other males, multiple males, co-ed multiples, and female partners. My ears twitched like a dog’s when she
stated other women were able to satisfy her.
Women also made her realize how much she enjoyed pleasing her
lovers. Men have to be dominant, etc.
etc.
Down,
girl, down, I told myself.
The
things one hears when the tissues are getting soaked.
For
Seven, assimilation into the human collective was really moving forward at Warp
speeds.
It
was also exhausting. I’m not as young
.....
I
took Seven upstairs to the guest bed and stripped off the old comforter, found
her a nightdress that’d fit if she didn’t mind her knees showing, and observed
Sam and Jake had already staked out spots at the foot of her bed.
Feckless
males.
I
was sliding under my covers in my bed when a naked Seven reappeared and padded
over to a nightstand. The one with the
Toys in it. I was fascinated watching
Seven pick each one up, weigh it in her hand, and judge its vibration quotient. Mesmerized, actually.
She
settled on a bright red one with a hairy fringe at the base, rubbing it against
her cheek to make sure it fit the bill.
The
evil part of my mind wanted me to ask if she needed a hand with that.
Satisfied,
she eased under the covers on the other side of my bed with the vibrator still
in one hand.
“I’ll
need a hand with this,” she observed. I
must have turned lobster red all over.
“Kathryn
Elizabeth Janeway,” Seven said, “you have desired both my love and my body for
at least six years. In return, I have
desired to have sex with you for almost as long.
“For
more than a year I have also known you are the center of my universe. I love you.
I am unclear about many of the ramifications of love, but B’Elanna long
advised me to ‘follow my gut feeling’.
I love you, my gut says.
“It
is patently obvious our love is both predestined and obvious. That being so, we may now enjoy spirited and
prolonged copulation together.
Beginning with this night.”
Some
things about Seven have yet to change.
“You’re
on the rebound, Seven,” I said.
“Tomorrow you’re liable to feel entirely different, and you’d regret
anything we do tonight.”
Inside
I was screaming for her to fuck me so hard that I’d be nothing but an oily
stain on my sheets. Talk about
conflicted.
Eventually
I talked her out of copulating with me forever and forever and forever and at
least through the night. She did not
agree that she was on the rebound, but she honored my wishes and fears.
Seven
didn’t want to sleep alone. So I
allowed as how she could sleep with me.
The
canonization process begins tomorrow, and odds are that I’ll be a Saint within
a year.
Seven
told the dogs to sleep on the floor and they did.
How
does she do that?
Purgatory
began a few minutes later when Seven began using that red vibrating Toy on
herself.
Have
you ever tried not to hear someone next to you enjoying multiple orgasms?
When
I die, I’ll tell them to take me straight to heaven, Lord, for I’ve already
served my time in Hell.
------------------------------
The
next morning I fell asleep with my head on the table, cradled in the
toast. Seven picked me up and deposited
me on the giant front couch by the fireplace.
I woke up and had to tumble both dogs off of me, as they had happily
gone to sleep draped over my near-comatose body. It had been a long night.
Last
night, after Seven was finished, her naked body had wrapped itself about me in
her sleep. Our legs had become
entertwained, and she soon had her head between my breasts.
I
finally dozed off, but awoke when I realized my nightdress was around my neck
and Seven was nursing on a breast.
After
my nap on the couch, Seven was amazingly supportive. She made dinner (soup and cooked veggies) from the Replicator for
me, cleared another section of snow outside, exercised the dogs, changed the
bedsheets, parked me in the easy chair with a blanket wrapped around me, and
made me hot cocoa.
If
she’d known there was an old style wheelchair in the attic, I’m sure she would
have gotten that for me as well. I
could stand that for less than an hour.
After
that I found two sets of snowshoes (with clipped-on boots) and we got our
Weathers on and went gliding over the snow.
Not that far, really, about a kilometer out to the pear trees by the
abandoned County road. We had our Comms
with us, and in a pinch we could have called our rented Flics to fly to us and
save us from any disasters.
Upon
our return, Seven then replicated skis.
Later on we went Nordic skiing in the other direction, in the night.
Eventually
I convinced Seven to sleep by herself.
Which she did, until she’d finished using the black pliable vibrator
with the mushroom head. Then I woke up
and discovered a naked Seven was lovingly draped behind me.
The
dogs remained on the floor.
How
did she do that?
In
the morning we showered together. I
expected more from Seven than actually occurred, but it was quite interesting
soaping up that perfect body. And being
soaped.
I
hadn’t known my nipples could stay that hard under a cold shower. Which is what I tried (unsuccessfully) after
Seven went off to fix us breakfast.
We
snowshoed some more. Brought in a few
cords of wood and roasted marshmallows and hot dogs over the fire in the
fireplace.
And
so it went. Lots of good healthy
exercise by day, and me being driven to absolute distraction by night.
-----------------------------
By
the time it was Christmas Eve I couldn’t deny it any more. We fit together like a glove and a
hand. We always had. What she lacked I had. What I wished I had she could provide.
The
Borg was a free spirit. I’d never
realized it before. She was the blithe
spirit, the naïve child, the tabula rosa that was still being written upon, the
Lamb come to free me.
I
was Ninotchka, the female Commissar, ready to be seduced and liberated from the
universe of dogma and rigidity. Seven
had freed me from myself, and she had done it years ago.
The
child of the Borg was my salvation.
How
could I have let this beautiful child wander so far for so long without saving
her in return?
I
hate it when I cry. She made me
cry. She made me human. With her I was rescued.
I
had not saved her from the Borg so much as she had saved me from myself. Just took a while to admit it.
Seven
busied herself in the kitchen as my dogs returned to me, whining, trying to
console me as I cried. I ran upstairs
and lay down in the darkness.
Eventually
Seven came upstairs and brought with her the light.
---------------------------
Seven
was downstairs waiting for a word from me.
For
once my dogs were obediently staying out in the corridor.
It
was Christmas Eve.
I
was naked upon my bed, except for being wrapped in an immense red ribbon.
Until
I’d searched I didn’t know you could buy a big bow you can wear. And otherwise be nude as hell.
I
was old and my best days were behind me.
I wasn’t all that pretty. Or rich. Or connected.
There
wasn’t much else I could give Seven but me.
Merry
Christmas, Seven.
“Up
here,” I said.
“Sweetheart,”
I added.
She
strolled to the doorway.
Apart
from being nude as hell, Seven was dressed in a big bow identical to mine. Except hers was yellow.
“Merry Christmas,” we said in unison.
END
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