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Irrational

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The chime had sounded approximately seven-point-five seconds before, and Seven knew for a fact that the captain had not left her quarters. She had an estimate on how long it had actually been, and she was certain that the computer would confirm it should she ask. Fifteen seconds seemed longer than necessary for politeness, and rather than ringing the chime once again, Seven removed the panel next to the door. It was simpler to open it that way.

"Captain," Seven began as she stepped in, clasping her hands behind her back as the doors closed behind her, "I am in need…"

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Janeway's voice came from the darkness of her bedroom before her body emerged. "How dare you come in here unannounced…"

Seven cocked her head. The captain's agitation was something she anticipated; however, she had underestimated the degree to which Janeway's anger would be heightened. Her own agitation was something she covered easily. "On the contrary, Captain, I made my presence known."

"Get out." Seven noted that the captain's capillaries were dilating, that her cheeks and neck were growing red. She also noticed that Janeway set her jaw—a gesture she had observed from many members of the crew, though unique to the captain in situations of anger or stress.

"Captain, I wish to inform you of an error in our trajectory." She shifted slightly as Janeway stared. Seven wasn't afraid of the captain's response; fear was an extreme and irrational response, and she had not yet discovered why humans applied the term to a wide range of situations. She was apprehensive because the error had been avoidable; she had fallen down on the responsibilities she had been given, thus adding three days to their trip through the Void. And while three days was negligible given their overall time to arrival to earth, Seven was beginning to note the signs of unrest among the crew, the most extreme case of which was Captain Janeway herself. And the rest of her feelings were difficult to make sense of because she was not certain of why she felt the need to keep the captain's admiration. It was altogether too human, and she did not care for how imprecise it was. "I corrected it as soon as it came to my attention; however…"

Janeway stalked closer. "I said get out." Her voice was lower this time, indicating not that her anger had abated but Seven thought, that it had risen to a near breaking point. "Commander Chakotay is on duty, and you could have informed him instead of invading my privacy. Get out, Seven. Get out now."

"I wished to inform you, Captain. You trusted me with a task, and I had a momentary failure. Should you wish to suspend my participation in navigational…"

Seven was perplexed at why the captain came towards her so quickly, but she did not immediately react, as it did not seem that Janeway was making an aggressive advance. Instead, she felt the captain's lips warm, pressing against her own. She knew about the human experience of lust, and she knew that it could drive actions, even in heated situations. But she did not know if this, if the strange dropping feeling in the pit of her stomach, the slow building yearn that was not unlike the type of yearning she felt to live up to Janeway's ideals was how it felt. And when she opened her mouth under the captain's, Seven felt surprise, among other things, because she did not know she possessed such an instinct.

"Captain," Seven began as soon as the kiss broke. But she found herself somewhat at a loss as she tried to process what had just happened.

"Go or stay," Janeway growled.

Seven took a breath as she unclasped her hands and let them fall to her sides. She regarded the captain, looking down at her thoughtfully. "I shall stay."

"Good." There was something in the captain's eyes that Seven had not seen before, and she was not sure how to interpret it. She was not versed on applying the poetic to the way pupils expanded and contracted in response to light and to emotion. She knew those involuntarily bodily actions well when it came to the captain, but there was more, just now, beyond her grasp.

She could have stayed easily in place as the captain pressed her back, but Seven stepped, feeling her body move as Janeway wanted it to move. And she found herself gasping when her back hit the bulkhead. It was just as curious as Janeway's velocity wins, but Seven found herself less inclined to analyze the particulars of what had just happened, especially as she could not pinpoint her own bodily responses when the captain's lips met hers again.

Abandon. The word entered Seven's thoughts, almost startling her. She could recite the definition and the entomology if need be, but Seven was not entirely sure why she had thought of the word or how to correctly apply it to her current position. Janeway's hands were on her sides, palms flat and running down them and around to her back. Seven arched forward; it seemed like the proper thing to do.

Human sexuality puzzled her in how it was not as concrete as anything she had been read or taught by the doctor. She had not considered the captain to be very much of a sexual being, certainly not a sexual object; there were certain flashes of dreams, but she had dismissed them. The captain was a mentor, but the captain's fingers were working her suit open and pressing into the skin of her back. And there were feelings that Seven felt that she had never entertained having.

She closed her eyes. Even though Seven did not like to admit it, even to herself, there was something overwhelming about the sensation of feeling Janeway's bare hands on her bare skin, of feeling their bodies pressed close together. If she wanted to, she could have registered the captain's body temperature, but she didn't want to. She found that she wanted to wrap her arms around the captain, so she did, only hesitating for a fraction of a second. And she sound that the captain made at the embrace surprised Seven in how much it excited her.

"Help me, help me with this," Janeway whispered urgently, but Seven found herself reluctant to withdraw her arms. It was no overly simple matter to undress, and Seven was aware that she could not remain in the state for too long. She was unaware, however, that it might be normal to hesitate, to feel self conscious. Her hesitation in not wanting to move away perplexed her, and undressing gave her a task to focus on. She did it efficiently.

And when she looked up again to see the captain's eyes on her…that was when she felt her own capillaries dilating. But Seven did not have time to try to discern whether Janeway was looking at the parts of her that were still Borg, comparing them to the parts that were not, or if she was thinking something else entirely because Janeway was already pressing against her again, and Seven was pressing back.

She gasped at the sensation of Janeway's fingers moving over her skin, settling on her nipples. Seven felt them harden under the touch, and she pressed into it. The captain was not in uniform, and it seemed an odd thing to notice then. But Seven was beginning to find it easier not to question the stray thoughts, the odd impulses, and she did not question herself when she untucked the captain's shirt and tugged it up until she could pull it off.

"Seven," Janeway moaned softly when Seven touched her bare skin.

The captain seemed more delicate then, and Seven wondered how it felt, how her own fingers felt. She flexed them against Janeway's back, realizing that she could easily bruise that skin, that it was a choice not to. The captain's lips were on her neck, and Seven shifted, realizing that she was wet. That the sensation between her legs was the appropriate physical response was something she realized, but she had no idea that it would feel that way.

She had come there desirous of making her confession and making up for it to maintain the captain's approval, but now, Seven found herself merely wanting to experience her touch. She mirrored Janeway's movements, taking off her bra and slowly beginning to touch her breasts, cupping them, rubbing her thumbs softly over her nipples to her the sights that the action elicited.

"You can touch me harder than that, Seven…I won't break," she said gruffly, and Seven found herself being pulled back towards the bedroom, as she knew would be appropriate for a situation such as this. She sat on the bed of her own volition and watched, head cocked as the captain removed the rest of her clothing.

Janeway's body was fit, pleasing, but Seven focused on her hands and then her face as Janeway pushed her onto her back. She sought the kiss herself this time, taking it in to save, to process for later. And even though she wanted…Seven was not sure how to voice what that want was. She was not sure that it was precisely a want at all. But when she felt Janeway's hand press flat between her legs, her body jerked into it, asking, begging for more. She put her hands on the captain's hips, looking up at her as Janeway straddled her. She felt her chest heave without alarm or pain as the captain pressed her fingers into her, the sensation odd in that it was both rough and soft.

And Seven heard her own moan as if it came from someone else. She knew her capabilities as Borg. She was still finding her limits as half that. But she had not known herself to be so human. And it was in her confusion of the aspects of the encounter whose explanations eluded her that Seven found that humanity.

She watched Janeway as Janeway watched her, and Seven realized that she had seen the captain so determined, so set on a task before. But the captain's eyes were unfocused, and Seven found that she understood what it was meant to be looking past someone. She felt as if the captain were looking past her, and the sensation of it was strange against the sensation of her thighs growing wet, as she realized she was squirming when the captain began to touch her clit.

"That's it." The captain's voice was as gruff as her touch when Seven felt her fingers on one of her nipples. She wasn't sure what Janeway was referring to, and while she knew that the physical reaction she was beginning to experience was orgasm, Seven found herself struggling to process as her thoughts became scattered and her body shook.

When it passed, Seven's mind was still struggling to catch up. She could see the captain's skin was brighter under her dilated pupil, and she could see past that with her ocular implant, but she found it difficult to bring the two into harmony. There was a faint smirk on the captain's face, and Seven instantly took that for approval, as she had seen it before in different contexts. She regained a normal tempo of breath and her heartbeat began to slow. And that was when she gently pressed the captain back, back into the bed where she could reach for her, pressing her fingers between her legs as she mirrored what she had experienced.

Janeway's temperature was appropriately raised, her body responding to Seven's touches, but she saw as she looked down that as the captain blinked, her eyes focused sharply, as sharply as the breath she inhaled. Seven stilled her slender fingers as she felt the captain's hands firm on her shoulders, pushing her away even though it was clear to Seven from her every physical response that she wished for the encounter to continue.

"Go…" Janeway said, voice cracking as she stood quickly, stalking forward so that Seven was forced to take several steps back and out of the room. "Get dressed and go… Go, Seven."

"Captain, if you wish to continue, I can…" She found herself assuming her customary stance even as Janeway interrupted her.

"Get out." Before Seven could respond, Janeway had turned on her heel and retreated to the darkness of the bedroom.

She stood there a moment longer, her skin cooling as she attempted to discern what the captain's motivations for the sudden change might have been. Seven dressed herself efficiently, hesitating only at the door. Her own behavior was rational only given the physical responses that she had been unsure she was capable of, but she was unsure how to sort the overload of sensory data that needed to processed, especially given the captain's final response to the situation that she so clearly initiated. She cocked her head before looking over her shoulder, and when she quickly stepped into the corridor, she found the lights almost too bright.