Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager and all of its characters
are the property of Paramount. This is just the sort of thing their twisty
minds would come up with. Maybe. Under the proper, uh, influence.
Note: There are many guilty parties who bear varying degrees of
blame for this story. Hopefully the suspects will recognize themselves and
spare me having to point any fingers.
Thanks to Seema for the beta.
Summary: The 'real' reason why C/7 would never last...
PERECTION IS AS PERFECTION
DOES
By Rocky
Chakotay had a problem.
And, as seemed to be so often the case these days, the problem was blonde.
He tried to remember just how it had started. It wasn't like he hadn't
experienced small 'attractions' before, over the course of Voyager's
journey. There had been Riley Frazier, a former Borg, (he still remembered
the shock of realizing she was bald as a billiard ball and those flowing
blonde tresses were just a wig) and What's-Her-Name, the alien woman whom
he never could quite remember (although he was pretty sure her blonde hair
was real). But he had never before gotten involved with someone on Voyager
itself, someone who couldn't simply be written off as an alien ship passing
in the night...no, this time he'd hit the jackpot. In some strange twist
of fate, this time he'd managed to find someone who was blonde, brainy and
a permanent member of Voyager's crew.
When Seven of Nine had first come aboard, of course, romantic dalliance
had been the furthest thing from his mind. He'd still been mooning soulfully
after the captain (this was while still in his Red Phase--if you counted
Seska--which preceded his Blonde Ambition) and anyway it had been more fun
to snicker at Harry's pitiful attempts to score with the former drone. Although
as Tuvok might have said, the odds of Harry and Seven living happily ever
after were too small to be worth considering. For her part, Seven seemed
to view Voyager's first officer chiefly as someone who competed with
her for the captain's time, or who continually told her what she was not
allowed to do to Federation equipment.
So over the years, they'd basically ignored each other, barely speaking
to each other except in the course of duty, and not always even then. Chakotay
had his occasional Blonde Alien Babe of the Week, intermixed with his regular
dinners with the captain. And Seven progressed up the social scale from
simple friendships to the point where she felt ready to try dating. Poor
Chapman had been the first such 'experiment', but the Doctor had been able
to repair the man's shoulder after that unfortunate dance mishap, so no harm--at
least none permanent--had been done after all. And since then Seven had
steadily advanced in her study of the social graces to the point where she
was a pleasant companion for an evening's diversion.
Chakotay had been flattered when she'd asked him to dinner and (once
he'd ascertained that dancing was not part of the planned activities) had
quickly accepted. It had been--nice. Nice to spend time with someone attractive,
who obviously considered him attractive as well. He couldn't remember the
last time Kathryn had looked at him with such interest in her eyes, at least
not without a bottle or two of Antarian cider first. So why not spend his
precious free time with someone who obviously appreciated him?
A few more evenings on the holodeck had followed. Formal gourmet dinners,
picnic lunches by a stream. They ate, and talked. Engaged in a little flirtatious
banter. Totally harmless, right? They certainly hadn't done anything to
be ashamed of, or that would make him feel uneasy the next morning. But he
was beginning to get the feeling, from the way Seven looked at him, that
she was ready for something a little more intimate than finding one's animal
guide.
All through the morning briefing he thought about the problem. Hard.
About Seven's Borg background and what it might feel like to get jabbed
with those assimilation tubules accidentally. About the former drone's obsession
with 'perfection' and the way she'd already started in on him about his
waistline. About Kathryn's Glare of Death. About the fact that even though
he was much bigger than the captain physically, he didn't doubt she could
inflict major damage if she was sufficiently riled up. He had no way of
knowing Janeway would react negatively to the news that he was involved
with yet another blonde, but considering past history, better safe than
sorry.
His affair with Seven wasn't common knowledge yet (or so he hoped) but
with the efficiency of the ship's rumor mill, it was only a matter of time.
And he liked his head and other parts of his anatomy attached the way they
were, thank you very much. The only thing to do was to break things off
with Seven, and quickly. He only hoped Seven wouldn't take the news too hard.
He would be his most sympathetic self, perhaps throw in an ancient legend
or two, then move in for the kill...
"It's just not going to work," he said out loud.
The rest of the senior staff looked at him in varying degrees of surprise.
B'Elanna dropped her PADD on the table. Tom's chair banged against the floor.
Seven pursed her lips in disapproval. Harry gaped like a Rigellian blowfish
and even Tuvok raised a brow.
"What don't you think is going to work, Commander?" the captain asked,
a slightly testy note in her voice.
"Uh, the mission," Chakotay said, somewhat flustered. He had tuned out
of the discussion after the first couple of minutes, but it was a safe guess.
Not safe enough, apparently. "We have been talking about the parameters
and specifics of the away mission for the last 1.7 hours," Tuvok noted.
"Yeah, if you had any misgivings over whether or not it was going to
work, you should have said something earlier," said Tom.
"Much earlier," added B'Elanna.
Chakotay felt the heat rising to his face. "Sorry, I didn't mean..."
Janeway nodded abruptly. "If you don't have any specifics to offer,
Commander, let's move along." She turned her attention back to the others
and continued speaking rapidly. "Now if we reinforce the signal beacons
first, by rerouting the..."
Chakotay let the soothing blur of technobabble wash over his ears and
consoled himself with the thought the meeting was bound to end sooner or
later, and then perhaps he'd be able to do something about the embarrassing
predicament he found himself in.
He'd planned the whole evening out carefully. Dinner in his quarters,
soft music playing. Chakotay had tried hard to strike the perfect balance
between a seduction and 'letting her down easy.' He'd certainly been on
the receiving end--of both scenarios--enough times that he had no doubt
he'd be able to control the flow of events.
But as with other things concerning Seven, nothing about that evening
was destined to go according to plan. Before Chakotay had gotten a chance
to deliver his little 'You're a nice girl but...and I hope we can still
be friends' speech, Seven dropped a bombshell of her own over the dinner
table.
"You want to break up with me?" Chakotay said indignantly. It was one
thing for him to decide to end things. But for her to take matters into
her own hands..."But why? I thought you said we made the perfect couple!"
"I was obviously mistaken."
"I guess nobody's perfect," he joked but then saw that she meant it
all right. "But why, Seven? Why do you suddenly want to end our relationship?"
She refused to meet his gaze, instead looked down at her lap. "It would
be inappropriate for us to continue in this manner."
"But why?"
"I cannot do this to the captain," she mumbled after a long moment.
"Do what?" he asked in alarm. If anyone was doing anything, it had been
Chakotay who had been contemplating the doing. Or at least figure somewhere
in the equation. But it had never occurred to him that Seven might have
feelings toward the captain.
Seven looked up at last. "I cannot betray her like this. She has done
too much for me, and then there is the nature of my relationship with her..."
"One point at a time, Seven!" He wasn't one hundred percent sure he
wanted to know what exactly was the relationship between the two women.
"Why would becoming involved with me constitute a betrayal?"
"Because Captain Janeway has feelings for you!" Seven burst out.
"She does?" he said in surprise. Feelings of impatience, maybe. Perhaps
even kindly tolerance. But as for anything else...
"Yes! She cares about you, very deeply! Even before your time together
on New Earth--"
"Whoa, I don't know who you've been talking to or what you've heard,
but absolutely nothing happened between us on New Earth." It was true, much
as Chakotay hated to admit it. Three months alone on an idyllic, verdant
paradise of a planet--okay, except for the occasional plasma storm--and he
hadn't been able to get anywhere with the only woman on the planet.
Even after he'd built her a bathtub. If he'd only had more time...if only
that stupid monkey hadn't kept getting in the way...
"I am not talking about any physical consummation," Seven sniffed. Ah,
so she did know Kathryn after all. "I am referring to the emotions Captain
Janeway harbors toward you."
"What kind of emotions?" Chakotay asked. He picked up his glass and
took a sip, realizing belatedly that it was empty.
"Do I need to spell it out for you?" Seven snapped in exasperation.
She rolled her eyes when he nodded. "Fine. She loves you. She always has,
from the very beginning, from the very first time you beamed onto Voyager
, near the Caretaker's Array. Your calm, quiet support, your deep spirituality,
your unwavering belief in her strength and leadership, your common goals
toward uniting this crew and bringing them safely home..." As she talked,
it all started coming back to Chakotay. Yes, he'd been a different person
then, back in the old days, a person who had actually done the deeds, behaved
the way Seven was describing now. What had happened to that man? He suddenly
tried to recall when was the last time he'd gone on a vision quest; it must
have been years...A sudden phrase caught his attention, "Why, she even appreciates
your ancient legends!"
He nodded. The Angry Warrior. Yes, this was why he was right to do what
he set out to do, namely break up with Seven so he could go back to being
in love with the captain. He was really glad Seven wasn't offering up too
much resistance to the idea.
He rose from the table and turned to leave, then stopped. And not just
because he remembered this was his cabin. "But why should you care, Seven?
I mean, I'm happy that you're all right with my leaving you, and I guess
it's best that we end it now, before we actually did anything--"
he blushed, thinking of those few, candlelit dinners on the holodeck that
had ended with chaste pecks on the cheek (he couldn't lean over far enough
to get closer to her for anything else) --" but why is it so important to
you?" Though he really, really didn't want to know and suspected with awful
certainty that he was going to regret this big time, he took a deep breath
and asked, "What exactly is going on between you and the Captain?"
"I cannot tell you!" she said, obviously distressed, as her gaze dropped
to her lap once more.
"Sure you can, Seven. Are you--" he swallowed, reconsidering, "--do
you love her, too?"
"Yes." At that simple answer, Chakotay bit back a groan and resisted
banging his head against the nearest bulkhead. But Seven wasn't finished.
"Captain Janeway is my mother!"
He tapped his ears in an effort to clear out any blockages. "I'm sorry,
I didn't hear you correctly. Could you say that again?"
"Captain Janeway is my mother!" she exclaimed.
Cautiously, he said. "You mean she's been like a mother to you all these
years, ever since she rescued you from the Borg."
"No, I mean she is my mother in the biological sense."
"Whoa, I thought the Hansens were your parents!" Another thought pulled
him up short. "If the captain is your mother, then who's your father?"
"The Hansens adopted me at a very young age," Seven said, leaving aside
the second part of his question for the time being.
"Why didn't you say anything before this?"
Seven shook her head impatiently. "I had no idea of the truth until
a short time ago, when I was packing up my things from the cargo bay, when
I was preparing to move into my own quarters. I found a Borg data node
I had overlooked before. It was my mother's, or rather Erin Hansen's, private
diary, in which she detailed how she adopted me as a fetus, at the age
of one month."
"But didn't anyone know about this? Your father, er, Dr. Hansen?"
"Magnus knew, but the rest of their family had no idea of my true origins.
In fact, it was to preserve the secrecy that the Hansens left Earth, first
to go off to an obscure space colony, ostensibly to study esoteric celestial
phenomena. When even that proved to be too close by and the truth may have
slipped out, Erin persuaded Magnus to adopt the study of the Borg and to
strike out for parts unknown."
"But why? What was so important that the secret needed to be preserved?'
"I cannot tell you. It is a cultural thing."
"Try me." After all, the study of cultural mores and rituals was his
specialty.
But Seven refused to budge. "You wouldn't understand."
He gave up, tried another tactic. "So Erin Hansen adopted you, just
like that? Did she know who your real mother was?"
"I believe so, but it was clearly irrelevant to her as she only mentioned
the woman's first name in passing. Erin had wanted children of her own, and
this was the only way she would be able to have them. She also saw to it
that I underwent some basic genetic therapy, allegedly to correct a prenatal
condition, but in reality to infuse enough of her own genetic material
into mine that it would mask my true origins."
Chakotay considered this newest development. "So that's why the Doctor
never caught on that you were Kathryn's daughter."
Seven nodded. "Any genetic anomalies could always be explained by interference
from the Borg nanoprobes. It became especially easy after the Captain herself
was assimilated."
"Interference on two counts," he said, nodding in return. "Does Kathryn
know?"
"No, she does not."
"Why didn't you ever tell her?" Chakotay asked. "Surely she figured
out that you were about the right age to be her daughter."
"She was never aware that she was pregnant."
"She wasn't?" Chakotay said in amazement. Janeway was a brilliant scientist
and more than capable captain, and she had no idea she was pregnant?
"No. My father saw to that, arranging for the fetus to be removed before
she was aware of its--my--existence."
Again a reference of the mystery man whom Kathryn had been involved
with. "Who is your father?" Chakotay asked again, more curious than ever.
"I cannot tell you."
"Seven, this is getting a bit old," Chakotay said with the beginnings
of irritation. "Are you going to keep making me jump through hoops for
all this information?"
"It's really none of your business," she responded coldly, then paused.
"And yet you are not entirely irrelevant to the matter at hand."
A terrible suspicion began to grow in the back of his mind. But no,
he hadn't even known Kathryn back in the Academy; she must have been around
20--in her junior year--when Seven was conceived. And he was sure he'd remember
if they had ever-- "Who is your father, Seven?" he said for the third time.
"The circumstances of my conception were most--unusual."
"I'm sure of that," he said grimly.
"It took place outside of the normal space-time continuum."
His heart sank. Just what he needed--a technobabble explanation. "Uh,
tell me more."
"Suffice it to say that my parents would not have met under the ordinary
course of events, but my father was no ordinary man."
"His name?" Chakotay leaned forward in anticipation.
"James T. Kirk," she said proudly. "I could do no better if I had sought
to select the perfect parents for myself."
Chakotay was assailed by a jumble of emotions: disappointment (it'd
be nice to think that he and Kathryn had managed to do it in some time
stream somewhere), relief that he wasn't Seven's father (not that their
relationship had progressed anywhere near the point where it would get
into any squicky issues) and major confusion. "Kirk? But he lived--and
died--over a century ago!"
"The reports of his death were greatly exaggerated," she told him. "The
first time. And the second as well. And possibly even the third..."
"Whoa, you're losing me here again, Seven. How could James T. Kirk be
your father?" Though from what he remembered learning about Kirk in school,
the man as well as the myth, he had no doubt that a) he was capable of
charming his way into Kathryn Janeway's heart and b) certainly virile enough
to have, well...doubtless there were a lot of Kirk descendants roaming
around the galaxy these days. Some more directly descended than others.
"I told you it involved time travel," she said, a hint of impatience
in her voice. "The details were unclear, as Erin only recorded in her diary
what she had personal knowledge of. But there is no doubt that Kirk was
my father."
Chakotay decided to let that slide for the moment. "And he's the one
who arranged for your adoption?"
"Yes. He must have known that the captain, or at that time Cadet Janeway,
was destined to go on to many important things and could not afford to be
saddled with the care of an infant at that stage of her career."
"So he took care of it." Funny, he didn't remember hearing that Kirk
took the time and trouble to clean up his messes. This must have been Kirk
at a later stage of life, not the dashing rake of the original five year
mission.
"Yes," said Seven. "And the Captain must never know!"
"But why not?" Chakotay asked. Seven's attitude made no sense to him.
"She has the right to know that you're her daughter."
"It would be upsetting to her, to suddenly find out a major piece is
missing from her past, that something was kept from her."
"She'd be even angrier if she did find out eventually and knew that
you could have told her and didn't," he pointed out. "The truth always
comes out eventually in cases like this, Seven."
She shook her head so emphatically that a few strands tumbled free from
her coiffure. "It would change the nature of our relationship and that
is too precious for me to risk losing."
Chakotay laughed. "You wouldn't be losing a captain, Seven, you'd be
gaining a mother. Heck, she already treats you as a daughter." He reached
over and gently tucked the errant hair behind her ears.
"Exactly," she said, and burst into tears.
"She's always treated you that way, along with Harry, and Tom, and B'Elanna..."
Chakotay said soothingly. He passed her a handkerchief.
"To my knowledge, I was an only child; I have no siblings," she said
in a somewhat muffled voice.
Not on her mother's side, at any rate. "I was speaking metaphorically."
"Ah." Seven blew her nose loudly, then handed him back his handkerchief.
"Yes, perhaps you are right. Perhaps I should tell her the truth."
"At least think about it," he advised her, reluctantly taking the cloth
and edging his way toward the recycler.
"Thank you. I will. Tomorrow morning. Or perhaps the next day. And thank
you for being so understanding. I can understand why my mother fell in love
you." She gave him a look that was more than just bordering on gratitude.
"Uh...yeah." He shooed her out quickly, then leaned against the closed
door, breathing heavily. They'd warned him in the Academy there'd be days
like this...
His communicator chirped. "Janeway to Chakotay."
"Chakotay here," he said, feeling it was inevitable that he deal with
both of the women in his life tonight. "What can I do for you, Captain?"
"I was wondering if you have the quarterly personnel report for me,
Commander?"
"Yes, I do." He rummaged through the items on his desk till he found
it. "As a matter of fact, I was just going over it now. Do you want me to
bring it by your Ready Room?"
"No, I'm already back in my quarters. The report can wait till morning.
I just wanted to make sure I'd have it first thing tomorrow."
"Do you want it now?" he asked. "Really, just say the word."
She hesitated. "I don't want to put you to any trouble."
"No trouble," he assured her. "I'm right next door, anyway."
He could tell she was wondering if he was alone. "All right then, if
you're sure it's not a problem."
"No problem at all. Chakotay out."
Less than a minute later, he was crossing her threshold. He stopped
short. Kathryn was wearing an outfit he had never seen before, something
light and silky that molded her figure in all the right places. Chakotay
swallowed hard and handed her the PADD, his fingers brushing hers as he
did so.
Color rose in her cheeks, but she smiled and scrolled through the report
quickly. "Thank you. I was concerned about this, especially in light of
what we talked about at the staff meeting earlier."
Right. The staff meeting. "You should know you can always count on me."
He gave her a meaningful look.
"Can I?" she asked, returning his gaze just as intently.
"Always."
"Even with," Kathryn paused, "certain, uh, distractions?"
"No more distractions," he promised, moving closer to her on the couch.
"There's one blonde distraction walking around the ship right now,"
she pointed out.
"Seven?" Chakotay laughed. "Believe me, Kathryn, you don't have to worry
about Seven."
Kathryn stood and took a few steps toward the viewport, then swung around
and faced him once more. "It's all right, Chakotay, I understand why you
might be attracted to her. She's beautiful, intelligent, strong-willed..."
"Just like her mother," he finished. He gave his captain another meaningful
look.
"Her mother?" Kathryn asked, puzzled. "Did you ever meet Erin Hansen?"
"That isn't who I meant." Chakotay proceeded to explain what Seven had
told him this evening. She'd thank him for it later, he was sure. And for
good measure he was careful to point out to the captain that none of his
dates with Seven had gone beyond a few 'fatherly' signs of affection.
Kathryn listened in silence, not interrupting once, although her lips
quirked a bit when he revealed the identity of Seven's father. He finished
and looked at her expectantly. "Well, aren't you going to say anything?"
"That is the most preposterous, unbelievable story I've ever heard,"
she said at last. His heart sank until she added, "Right up there with the
legend of the angry warrior." He looked up to see her smile.
"Actually, I think it's a perfectly logical explanation," he said, and
smiled in return.
"Personally, I think perfection is overrated," Kathryn said softly.
"I think you may be right," he murmured.
FINIS
(thanks to Seema for the picture)
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