Lieutenant Torres' fingers worked away at the holodeck control panel but her mind was wandering again and her face had an angry, pinched look. Lines of tiredness marred her eyes and her normal caramel complexion was unusually pale. They had been arguing again; it was all they seemed to do these days; an endless round of carping and irritable exchanges building up to full-scale war followed by the inevitable reconciliation, promises to try harder and exchanges of loving but somehow empty words. It all seemed so pointless. Damn Tom Paris! She punched angrily at the display and the panel bleeped in protest.

"Incorrect entry sequence."

B'Elanna took a deep breath and tried to focus on the task at hand. Her relationship problems would just have to wait, she had too much work to do. What the hell was wrong with the holodeck? "Computer, how long till the diagnostic is complete?"

"One minute and thirty six seconds."

Did she even love him anymore? She snorted. Amend that; had she ever really loved him? She paused in her work to give this serious thought. At the beginning she thought she had but maybe she'd been wrong all along; maybe the thought of seventy years aboard this ship had sent her mistakenly into the arms of the first person who'd offered something more than friendship. But what if the relationship was worth salvaging? There had been some good times after all, and it wasn't as if there was a queue of prospective partners willing to put up with her klingon temperament. She had to give him that at least: whatever his deficiencies, he wasn't put off by her volatility. She grinned wryly. What a wonderful basis for a marriage.

"Diagnostic complete; corrupt data fragment in buffer memory block gamma-seven."

At last! "Computer, purge buffer memory block gamma-seven."

"Unable to comply."

She'd just have to delete it manually then. After a few deft movements of her hands over the display the panel once again bleeped its displeasure.

"Unable to access; file corrupted."

This was going to take longer than she'd thought. She had barely started to work on it when, behind her, she heard the quiet whoosh of the corrupt fragment being accidentally called into photonic existence. She turned, curious to see what it was, and her jaw dropped. She was staring at a holographic simulation of herself. The hologram flickered and hissed fitfully but, despite the corruption of the data, she could clearly see her surprise mirrored on the hologram's face.

"Who the hell are you?" came the distorted voice, her voice, distant and broken up as if heard over a weak commlink. "Where's..." And then the hologram flickered out of existence.

She remained motionless, staring at the spot the hologram had occupied, her mind temporarily numbed by what she'd seen. Why had it been sprawled on a luxurious, silk-dressed bed? And why had it been naked? As the initial shock began to wear off the realisation hit her and her jaw clenched. The damn thing was someone's sex-toy! She could hardly believe it; someone was using a holographic simulation of her for their own sleazy sexual fantasies. How long had that thing been in the database? And more importantly: who had programmed it?

A growl rumbled in the back of her throat when the answer came to her. Of course: Paris. A few weeks ago he'd dangled a couple of restraints in front of her face one evening, affecting a coy smile and suggesting that they "try something different for a change". She'd just rolled her eyes wearily, exhausted from a day spent crawling through the cramped Jeffries tube system and, if truth be told, she hadn't felt like doing anything with him for the past couple of months, different or otherwise. He hadn't mentioned it again and she had completely forgotten about it. Voyager seemed determined to tire her to the point of collapse lately and she hadn't had time to think of anything but the ship's maintenance. Obviously though, Tom hadn't forgotten about it at all.

It was over between them, there was no avoiding it; it had been for some time but she hadn't been able to admit it to herself... until now. She supposed she ought to thank him for his latest little holographic venture; it had shown her just how bad things had become between them. But she was still going to flay him alive.

At the sound of the holodeck doors opening she turned and almost growled again as Seven strode in. She could do without seeing her right now. It was true that they'd been getting along more amicably recently but, with the way she felt at the moment, she didn't think she could keep her temper in check.

"Lieutenant, you were supposed to meet me in Engineering twenty minutes ago."

There was a hint of irritation in the statuesque blonde's voice and B'Elanna had to clamp down hard. Tom Paris wasn't worth a return to their former hostilities. "I'm busy."

"Yes, I know." She continued dryly, "Ensign Vorik informed me that you were repairing the holodeck."

"Exactly; you'll have to wait."

The slight pursing of Seven's lips showed that she hadn't been entirely successful in keeping the anger from her voice.

"Lieutenant, I find it curious that you place a higher priority on the functioning of a holodeck than my proposed improvements to the impulse drive."

"I'll take a look at them later," she snapped. "Right now I'm busy."

"So you said," retorted Seven, "but I believe you are trying to avoid considering my suggestions."

B'Elanna closed her eyes and took a deep breath in an effort to stay calm. She really didn't want this to turn into yet another confrontation so she did her best to adopt a reasonable tone. "I said I'd take a look and I will, just as soon as I've got the time. What would make you think that anyway?"

Seven looked away for a moment and B'Elanna was suddenly struck by how vulnerable she was beneath that cool exterior; it was something that Seven rarely let anyone see. Sometimes she had a tendency to forget that there was a living, breathing woman behind that mask of efficient superiority, but it was a mistake that she made less frequently now that their relationship was thawing. When the ex-borg looked back her composure had returned and her voice didn't betray the pain she'd seen flash in those ice-blue eyes for that short instant.

"You have always reacted negatively to my proposals; you always delay their consideration or simply reject them immediately without investigating their worth. I believe you allow your personal dislike of me to cloud your objectivity."

She noticed the rise and fall of Seven's chest and realised that the woman hadn't quite regained her composure after all.

Seven continued, a distinctly emotional tremor in her voice. "Perhaps you even feel hatred towards me but..."

"Seven, I don't hate you!" B'Elanna interjected, stepping forward unconsciously, in the grip of some emotion she couldn't quite identify, knowing only that seeing Seven so obviously upset didn't feel pleasant. They remained face-to-face for a few seconds that seemed more like minutes. B'Elanna could see the faintest flush of the younger woman's pale cheeks and wanted to reach out to her somehow but didn't know what to say. Finally Seven broke eye contact, dropping her gaze to the floor between them. She took in an audible breath before expelling it in a sigh as she raised her dimpled chin once more, her face impassive. This time it seemed that she would not lose her composure.

"Regardless of your motives, you are not receptive when I make suggestions for Voyager's improvement; today is simply another example of that."

When B'Elanna replied her voice was softer. "I will take a look at your proposals, I promise; right now just isn't a good time."

Seven nodded reluctantly. "Very well." She made to leave, but stopped suddenly and turned back to face her, her expression tinged with concern. "Lieutenant, are you all right? Can I... help?" She hesitated over the words, not used to saying such things to B'Elanna.

"I'm okay, just tired; but thanks."

"Perhaps I could assist you with the holodeck repairs."

B'Elanna became alarmed. There was no way she was going to risk the ex-borg seeing that libidinous program. "No, it's all right, Seven; it won't take long. Look, I'll let you know as soon as I've finished here, then we can go over your suggestions. Okay?"

Seven opened her mouth as if to say something but paused, her face troubled. "Lieutenant, you do not look well. Perhaps you should go to Sickbay."

"Really, I'm just tired; it's nothing to worry about."

The statuesque blonde shifted uncomfortably. "You do not look tired, you look exhausted; as you have for several weeks."

B'Elanna noticed that Seven's hands had left their customary position behind her back and were fidgeting restlessly at her sides, and she was surprised to realise that the normally imperturbable woman was embarrassed.

"I am... concerned about you. If there's any way I can assist you..." She tailed-off, looking more awkward by the second.

B'Elanna stared at her speechlessly for several moments feeling a curious sense of wonder. Seven appeared to be genuinely worried about her. It seemed that their relationship had changed more than she'd realised and she found herself warmed by the borg's concern.

"It's something I have to deal with myself," she managed at last, "but thank you." She had a sudden vision of borg assimilation tubules plunging into Tom's neck and almost grinned. "I'll remember your offer though."

After a moment Seven nodded again and without another word she turned and strode from the holodeck. B'Elanna got the peculiar impression that she was both reluctant to leave and at the same time in a hurry to escape the cause of her sudden embarrassment, which was apparently herself, though she had no idea what she had done to occasion Seven's strange behaviour. She watched as the doors closed behind the shapely woman, and wondered what the hell all that had been about. She was also surprised to realise that she was beginning to think of Seven as a potential friend.

Shaking her head in bemusement at this strange turn of events, she moved back to the holodeck controls and began the task of deleting the program fragment. After a few seconds though, she stopped as it occurred to her to wonder whether she could trust Tom to delete his program. She decided to use the corrupt fragment to track it down in the database, just in case... After all, he probably wouldn't be feeling too co-operative once she'd finished with him.

* * *

B'Elanna paced about their quarters restlessly and tried to keep a rein on her temper. An emergency with the plasma manifolds had stopped her from seeing him at midday and when she'd finally got in from her shift Tom had been and gone, leaving behind the remnants of a quick meal. The computer had confirmed what she'd already assumed; naturally he was on the holodeck. He'd sounded out of breath when he'd finally answered her hail, naturally. That had been fifteen minutes ago. Just how long did it take to get from Holodeck One to their quarters? The petaQ was probably finishing off with that thing. She gritted her teeth and briefly considered employing one of the meditation exercises Tuvok had taught her; she didn't want to end up in the Brig for assault; on the other hand maybe it would be worth it.

At the sound of the doors opening she spun around and watched silently as he entered. Seeing that he really was out of breath she closed her eyes and forced herself to think of a calm, blue sea, a serene expanse of water untroubled by storms, wide and bright and blue... blue like Seven's eyes. She was so surprised by this association that the mental exercise almost had the desired effect, but when he spoke and she opened her eyes to look at him the anger returned in full force.

"So, what's so urgent?"

"Luckily nothing!" she snapped. "Or it'd be too late by now."

"Well, you know... I had to take a sonic shower." He grinned boyishly. "We worked up quite a sweat."

She gaped at him. She couldn't believe his impudence.

"B'Elanna, are you okay?" He moved towards her, a worried frown on his face.

"Stay away from me!"

"What's wrong?"

"Worked up a sweat did you?" she growled, her voice thick with anger. "On the holodeck with that... that thing!"

Now he was looking confused as well as worried. "Since when did Harry become a thing? Maybe I should call the Doc..."

"Harry?"

"Yeah, Harry... hoverball... our weekly game?"

She began to feel a little stupid. "Oh. Right, your weekly game."

He looked askance at her. "You know, maybe you should ask the Captain for some time off; I think you've been working too hard lately."

"Some of us don't have the time to mess about on the holodeck all day long."

"Are you jealous of Harry?" he asked incredulously.

"What?"

"I know I've been spending a bit of time with him recently," as he continued his voice filled with sarcasm, "but frankly things haven't been too friendly round here lately, have they?"

"This has nothing to do with him!" she bellowed, furious at the way he was trying to turn this back on her. "I found your damn holoprogram!"

"Program? B'Elanna, you're not making any sense! I forfeited a week's replicator rations for this so do you want to actually tell me what's on your mind?"

At his indignation she had to restrain herself from leaping at him. "That sex-toy! You know: the bed, the naked woman... looks just like me."

He gaped at her in bewilderment. "I don't know what you're talking about."

It was true. Much as she didn't want to believe it, she could see that he honestly knew nothing about the program. Her anger began to drain away, to be replaced by shame and embarrassment. How could she have jumped to such a conclusion? Tom had his faults but why had she been so ready to believe it was him? It could have been any one of the hundred-and-fifty people onboard.

"B'Elanna, what the hell is going on? Talk to me."

She turned away and slumped into a chair, feeling foolish and dejected. With a sigh, she finally worked up the courage to tell him about what she'd discovered on the holodeck.

When she'd finished he looked at her sadly. "Didn't you even try to find out who'd written it?"

"It was classified," she said defensively. "I used every decryption protocol I could think of but whoever wrote it is good."

"So you just assumed it was me," he stated flatly.

They said nothing for a few moments and there seemed to be a finality in the silence that they were both aware of.

Finally Tom shook his head and sighed. "So, what are you going to do? Maybe you should take this to Tuvok or Chakotay."

"No way; I don't want anyone else seeing it. I'll handle it myself for now." She paused, reluctant to go on, but knew there was no point in putting this off. "Tom..."

"Yeah, I know. We need to talk." With a tired sigh he dropped into the chair opposite her.

* * *

Seven sat alone in the Mess Hall and mechanically ate her salad, barely aware of the meal as she once again found herself thinking about the fiery Chief of Engineering. When had this obsession begun? She searched her memory, trying to pinpoint the exact moment that the brilliant and passionate woman had started to take a hold on her. She couldn't be sure, and she suspected that her interest in B'Elanna had begun some time before she became consciously aware of it, but she clearly remembered the defining moment some two months ago. Her sexuality had just been starting to blossom and she'd started to be aware of her body in a way she'd never been before; unfamiliar feelings and desires were making themselves known to her, understood intellectually but, until now, not really understood at all. They'd been working in Jeffries Tube thirty-seven-alpha and in that cramped space, their bodies unavoidably brushing against each other as they worked, she'd become increasingly focused on the Lieutenant's physical presence and had been forced, at last, to admit to herself that she was attracted to the woman who had made her dislike of her known in no uncertain terms. If it had only been sexual attraction she wouldn't have found the past months such a trial, but it was more than that; there was an emotional component to her obsession that she found alarming to contemplate.

At the sound of the doors opening she glanced up from her meal but it was only Ensign Mulchaey. She sighed. It seemed that Lieutenant Torres was going to avoid her once again. Yesterday it had been some emergency with the plasma manifolds. She'd thought that the Lieutenant had been sincere on the holodeck but when two hours had passed and she still hadn't contacted her, she'd made her way to Engineering again to find an agitated half-klingon bellowing orders and bustling about. Admittedly the problem was a relatively serious one but she couldn't help feeling that the Lieutenant had deliberately arranged it, or at the very least could have delegated the supervision of the repairs. It was irrational of her she knew, but where the Lieutenant was concerned she was finding it increasingly difficult to think rationally. She wondered if she should consult the Doctor but she was afraid she already knew what his diagnosis would be.

Ironically, perhaps the hardest thing about it all was the hope: the hope that something might happen between them. Though they still shared the occasional tense moment, they had been on much friendlier terms recently and Seven couldn't stop herself from hoping that they might get closer still, that Lieutenant Torres - B'Elanna - might come to feel the same way about her. But of course, there was the marriage. She knew that nothing would ever come of her desires. Hope, though, wouldn't quite die; over the last few weeks she'd overheard several of her crewmates discussing the possibility that the marriage might not last.

She poked at her salad irritably, suddenly annoyed at her bout of self-pity. At that moment Lieutenant Torres entered the Mess Hall and she felt her heartbeat quicken.

* * *

As B'Elanna entered the Mess Hall she immediately spotted Seven sitting at a table near the counter. Neither Tuvok nor Naomi Wildman were here so she was, of course, eating alone. How many times over the years had she come into the Mess Hall and seen Seven sitting alone? How many times had she ignored the woman and taken her meal to another table? Too many she realised reprovingly as she approached.

"Okay, Seven, you've got me at last." The ex-drone shifted uncomfortably at this for some reason. "I'll just get something to eat and then we can take a look at your ideas."

"I recommend that you avoid Today's Special. Several crewmen have had to make rapid exits shortly after beginning their meals."

B'Elanna snorted in amusement and watched as a shy smile stole across Seven's face. "I'll have the salad as well then."

"A wise decision. You may find it a bland choice but it is less likely to cause you extreme physical discomfort."

This time she laughed and for several seconds they simply looked at one another warmly.

"Well, I'll be back in a minute," said B'Elanna at last and moved to the counter to wait for Neelix to finish serving Crewman Chell, who was apparently having the Special.

It was strange the way she'd begun to see Seven in a different light. Was it Seven who had changed or herself? Perhaps both of them had. Either way, at some point she had started to find the haughty yet somehow vulnerable woman's company rather enjoyable. It appeared that they might actually become friends... perhaps there was even the possibility of more. She pushed the thought away hurriedly. Now was hardly the appropriate time to be thinking about such things... and with Seven! Besides, she had more immediate concerns: just who had written that program?

"What can I get you, Lieutenant?"

Startled, she looked up to see Neelix beaming at her. "Um..."

"How about Today's Special? A delicious blend of..."

"I'll just have the salad," she interrupted hurriedly.

"Oh." He looked disappointed. "One Splak Salad coming up." He began to busy himself with her meal. "So B'Elanna, how have you been lately?"

"Fine," she replied warily, sensing that his cheeriness had switched into Morale Officer mode.

"You've looked a bit under the weather lately, if you don't mind me saying so. Anything I can help you with? Perhaps home-life's not going..."

"We're getting divorced," she said shortly, realising that it was pointless trying to delay the gossip.

He looked sad but not surprised. "I'm so sorry, B'Elanna. If there's anything I can do..."

"It's okay Neelix, but thanks; it's for the best."

"I think you've made the right decision; sometimes things just don't work out the way you hope."

"We're just not suited I guess; to be honest, it's a relief to have it over and done with." And it was. Since they'd agreed to the divorce yesterday she'd felt as if an oppressive weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

He nodded sympathetically. "If you need to talk..."

"I'm fine, really Neelix," she stated firmly.

"How's Tom taking it?"

"He knew it was over between us; there's no point in fighting the inevitable. I haven't seen him since last night though; he stayed with Harry."

Neelix handed over her plate of Splak Salad, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Well, since you obviously don't need me in my capacity as Morale Officer perhaps I should go and see him later, just to make sure he's all right."

"Good idea," she said, relieved that his attention, well meaning though it was, had been deflected. She was about to leave with her meal when a thought struck her. "Hey Neelix, you hear a lot about the ship's business don't you? You usually know what's going on with people..."

"I hope you're not suggesting I'm a gossip!" he said indignantly.

"No, of course not."

He made a show of looking around in a surreptitious manner then leaned over the counter and grinned conspiratorially at her. "I do hear the occasional interesting rumour of course. According to the grapevine the Delaney sisters have been..."

Intrigued though she was she interrupted him, speaking in an undertone. "Listen Neelix, have you heard anyone talking about me lately? I don't know... maybe someone who's got a crush on me or something."

"No, I don't think so. Have you got a secret admirer already?"

"That's one way of putting it," she muttered wryly then continued in a near whisper. "Well, what about the holodeck? Anyone been talking about any new programs? Of the um... adult variety."

His bushy eyebrows shot up. "No, sorry B'Elanna; I haven't heard anything like that."

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked suspiciously.

"This adult holoprogram..."

That had been foolish of her; Neelix wasn't stupid and was perfectly capable of putting two and two together. "Don't ask. And if you breathe a word about this to anyone I'll kill you."

"Understood," he murmured sincerely.

She gave him a parting warning glance and went to sit next to Seven and her stack of PADDs.

* * *

When she heard the words "we're getting divorced" she felt a sort of numbness overtake her and missed much of the rest of the conversation. By the time the shock began to wear off they were almost whispering and all she caught was "I'll kill you". As the Lieutenant approached, she mentally steeled herself against the hope that was threatening to engulf her and took a deep breath in an effort to calm her racing heart. Suddenly she felt guilty for taking pleasure in this development that was surely causing B'Elanna distress. Looking closely at her though, she couldn't see any signs of the unhappiness she should be feeling; if anything the engineer looked better than she had in some time.

Sitting down next to her B'Elanna took a bite of her salad and pulled a face. "You're right, it is bland."

Seven struggled for a suitable reply, wanting to continue the camaraderie that had begun to develop between them, but her mind seemed strangely blank.

"Seven, are you okay?"

How could she answer this? She didn't know herself.

"Seven?"

"I am functioning... adequately." B'Elanna looked doubtful and to forestall any further enquiries she continued. "Lieutenant, I apologise for overhearing your conversation with Mr Neelix but I want you to know that I'm sorry that your marriage to Lieutenant Paris is to be dissolved." This was possibly the first time she'd ever knowingly lied. She was half-expecting to be told to mind her own business and added tentatively, "If I can assist you in any way..." She stopped in surprise as B'Elanna reached across and gently squeezed her borg-enhanced hand. At the feel of the physical contact she found herself rendered speechless again. For a second her whole world was reduced to the feel of that strong hand clasping hers, the warmth and texture that enveloped her, connecting her with the woman she desired so much. Then she pulled her hand away quickly as if burned, afraid that her emotional turmoil would be revealed and that B'Elanna would somehow divine what this contact meant to her. There was an awkward silence and Seven strove to regain control of herself, suddenly annoyed that she was allowing this woman to reduce her to such a state of inefficiency.

B'Elanna cleared her throat. "I'm not."

Seven quirked her eyebrow. "Lieutenant?"

"I'm not sorry about the divorce; it was a mistake to get married in the first place."

"You do not regret the failure of your relationship with Lieutenant Paris?"

"Of course I do." She looked down at her salad and toyed with it idly. It seemed to Seven that she was perhaps realising for the first time the full implications of the situation. "Three wasted years."

"Better three wasted years than thirty."

The engineer looked at her in surprise. "You're right. It's just... I'd kinda got used to having someone there for me. It won't be fun being on my own again."

"You are not alone, Lieutenant," she offered softly.

"That's true." Torres barked laughter and continued sarcastically, "How can anyone ever be alone trapped on this damn ship?"

Seven felt bitterness wash through her. "You don't know what it is to be alone." B'Elanna looked embarrassed and the ex-drone immediately regretted her emotional outburst. "I apologise, Lieutenant."

"It's okay," she replied in a subdued tone. "We've all got our problems I guess."

This encounter was proving to be even more difficult than most and Seven was relieved when Lieutenant Torres said no more and concentrated on eating her meal; it would give her a chance to get her emotions under some semblance of control. She picked up one of the PADDs and looked at the data and calculations she'd carefully prepared but she wasn't really seeing any of it, instead she was thinking about her feelings for the woman sitting next to her. Despite her fear she no longer had the strength to go on deceiving herself. All her past research and observations pointed to one thing only: she was in love with Lieutenant Torres; it was pointless trying to deny it any longer. Underneath she'd known for some time but had managed to avoid confronting her feelings, focusing instead on the sexual attraction she felt for her, but even her fantasies had become overtly emotional lately; she couldn't delude herself anymore. She briefly wished that she could ask the Doctor for a cure but the only possible treatment it seemed was time and regret.

Surreptitiously she watched as the smaller woman ate, letting her gaze wander over the curious mixture of delicate human and chiselled klingon features. She wondered what it would be like to kiss those enchanting lips, to run her fingers over the proud forehead ridges, to stroke that soft, dark hair. It took all of her self-control to keep her feelings hidden, to stop herself from revealing to the engineer how much she'd come to mean to her.

B'Elanna finished her meal and pushed the plate to one side. "Okay, let's take a look at your ideas."

* * *

As the holodeck doors closed behind her B'Elanna stopped and almost turned around and left. What she was about to do was morally dubious and would not go down well with the Captain, to say the least. She reminded herself that the only person she would be spying on was the one who had violated her own privacy in the first place. Still, the thought of setting up surveillance equipment on the holodeck was disturbing and she seriously considered abandoning the plan. There were other ways of catching the culprit of course but a swift, positive visual identification seemed the best way to go about it. She ignored the voice telling her that what she should do was go to Chakotay and explain the situation. Instructing the computer to engage the privacy lock, she set her doubts aside and began the task of installing and disguising the monitoring equipment.

The work progressed smoothly and half-an-hour later she was fixing the last wall-panel back in place. No one entering the room would have any inkling that several visual and audio monitors were now ready to transmit anything that happened on the holodeck to B'Elanna's quarters. It would be another forty minutes before the second holodeck became available, so she decided to carry out the programming that was necessary to activate the surveillance system when holographic program Torres simulation alpha-one was run.

The programming complete and both holodecks now prepared she returned to her quarters, trying not to think about the consequences. At the very least this would earn her the standard "this is no way for a Starfleet Officer to behave and you've let me down" speech from the Captain. She wanted an end to this quickly though and Tuvok's investigative methods were reliable but slowed by his methodical approach and adherence to protocol. She'd get her visual record and take whatever the consequences were for her infraction of Starfleet regulations. Besides, though she hated to admit it, now that her initial anger had worn off she'd become intensely curious about who had created the program. She had absolutely no idea who onboard would want to create a simulation of her to have sex with and she was becoming a little anxious about what her surveillance might reveal. What if it was Neelix? What if it was Harry? What the hell would she do then? She'd just have to deal with that when the time came; more than likely it was just some sexually frustrated crewman from the lower decks. Pushing these concerns aside, she decided to take a sonic shower before Seven arrived. Earlier that day they'd barely scratched the surface of her proposed modifications to the impulse drive and she wanted to feel refreshed before once more wading into Seven's extensive, carefully thought out plans.

She'd barely finished her shower and dressed when the door-chime sounded.

As Seven entered she looked about the room curiously. "Your quarters are aesthetically pleasing, Lieutenant."

"Thanks," she said, smiling at the phrase. "But I can't take all the credit; Tom's still got to take some of his stuff back."

"I'm sorry," began Seven, clearly embarrassed, "I didn't mean to..."

"Don't worry about it," she interrupted gently and indicated that she should take a seat.

She watched as the willowy blonde perched uncomfortably on the edge of the sofa, folding her hands in her lap, her posture rigid. She seemed nervous and B'Elanna was beginning to feel awkward herself.

"Um... do you want a drink?"

"No, thank..." she paused to clear her throat. "Perhaps some water."

As B'Elanna went to the replicator she wondered why she felt as if she was on a first date. She had to admit that she was beginning to like the earnest woman sitting behind her but that was all, wasn't it? Admittedly, underneath that borg superiority she had a certain innocent charm... What the hell was she thinking? This was Seven of Nine! She shook her head as if to clear it of the absurd thoughts that had begun to creep into her mind lately. Maybe the break-up with Tom was affecting her more than she realised. Retrieving the glass of water from the replicator she squared her shoulders and tried to prepare herself for what promised to be a difficult evening. Now if she could just avoid any arguments...

Several hours later they were both considerably more relaxed. Two glasses and an empty bottle of wine stood on the table next to the computer console that was still displaying a schematic of the secondary plasma injectors, though they had abandoned their work some time ago.

"Lieutenant," murmured Seven as she leant back and closed her eyes, "I believe that the alcoholic content of that beverage was still too high for me."

"B'Elanna."

Seven opened her eyes again and looked at her inquiringly. "Lieutenant?"

"I told you to call me B'Elanna."

She pondered this for a second, her brow furrowed, before replying seriously, though without her normal precise pronunciation. "I believe my cortical implant is malfunctioning; I had forgotten."

"Don't be silly; you've just had too much to drink." She herself felt only mildly intoxicated; she'd chosen a low-alcohol wine with Seven's lack of tolerance in mind but evidently it had still gone to the ex-borg's head. "You don't feel sick, do you?" she asked concerned, placing a hand on Seven's shoulder.

"No, just confused."

The engineer snorted laughter.

"I was not making a joke, B'Elanna," she said, her serious tone belied by the smile that was tugging at her lips.

"It'll wear off," she said, her thumb unconsciously stroking the strong but delicate shoulder beneath her hand.

"I'm not sure I want it to." Seven sighed contentedly. "Alcohol poisoning is not unpleasant."

"You might change your mind about that if you ever get really drunk."

"Then I shall endeavour to avoid doing so."

A comfortable silence reigned for a while before B'Elanna suddenly noticed her errant thumb's caressing motion and withdrew her hand quickly from Seven's shoulder, wondering if she'd been aware of it.

"I have enjoyed this evening, B'Elanna," she said softly, her eyes half-lidded.

The engineer swallowed nervously, realising that she had noticed. "So have I," she replied with a suddenly dry mouth as Seven shifted her weight slightly, bringing their bodies into contact. The former borg made a small sound of contentment and B'Elanna had to fight the rush of desire that came over her. It was wrong; Seven was drunk; she didn't know what she was doing; she was too innocent to even know what she was doing. She tried to ignore the rebellious voice that insisted on arguing. She wasn't that drunk; she wasn't that innocent; she wasn't a child but a grown woman with the needs and desires of a woman. She was more intoxicated than herself though; that was enough. The half-klingon stood up, relieved that she had the strength to resist something they might both regret. "Much as I've enjoyed tonight, I've got an early start in the morning and I've got a feeling you could use some extra regeneration time."

Seven took a deep breath and got to her feet as well. She was clearly trying to hide her disappointment but the alcohol was making it difficult. "You are correct, Lieutenant."

As she made her way to the door she kept to a straight line and hardly swayed at all. She wasn't even really drunk, the rebellious part of B'Elanna's mind insisted. She opened her mouth to speak and for an instant she was sure she was going to tell Seven to stay, but instead she heard herself asking, "Are you going to be all right? Do you want me to walk you to the Cargo Bay?"

"That will not be necessary." Despite the alcohol, the borg shields were back in place and B'Elanna wondered if she'd made the right decision.

The doors parted and Seven stepped out into the corridor. She paused for a moment before turning round and B'Elanna saw that her defences weren't quite at full strength after all. "Lieutenant," she said softly, her face betraying a wistful longing, "can I now consider you a friend?"

"Only if I can consider you a friend," she joked, using humour to hide the swell of emotion that had overtaken her.

"Agreed," the ex-borg said with a shy smile before turning and making her way down the corridor towards the turbolift. She watched for a few seconds, tempted to run after her when she staggered slightly; then, with a sigh, she left the doorway and went back into her quarters, feeling a confused mixture of happiness and longing... and not a little sexual frustration.

* * *

Somewhere she could hear an insistent beeping and she groaned and turned over in her semiconscious state but the irritating sound continued and began to draw her further from sleep. "Computer, what time is it?" she mumbled, thinking groggily that it couldn't be time for her shift to start already and that there must be some kind of mistake.

"The time is o-four-hundred-hours and twelve minutes."

It took a second for this to penetrate her sleep-addled mind but when it did she sat up suddenly, fully awake as if a container of water had been thrown over her. Someone was running the program.

B'Elanna scrambled from the bed and hurried into the living area without bothering to change out of her night-dress. Sitting at the computer screen she activated it and swiftly entered the codes to link it up to Holodeck One where Torres simulation alpha-one was being run. The first view was of a bedside light casting a soft, warm glow over what appeared to be standard Voyager quarters from what little she could see. There was an unmistakable sound of kissing and then a moan; it was her own voice, and for a moment she was so unnerved it took her several seconds to link to a different monitor to get a better view.

A large bed; on the bed were two naked figures locked in passion; the one on top was B'Elanna Torres; if there had been any doubt the birth-mark in the small of the back dispelled that. The figure underneath was a taller woman but at first she wasn't sure who it was; she'd been expecting a man. For several seconds her brain refused to process the information. Long, slender limbs; pale, creamy skin; a crown of blonde hair, stray wisps escaping from their confinement. The left hand that had been beneath the hologram's body caressing its breast moved round to trail down the back and squeeze a buttock and she saw the glint of light on metal and scar tissue. Long legs wrapped around the hologram to pull it closer and she saw the silver star on one of the thighs, the delicate web-like tracery around the ankle. Still she sat there, unable to make out who the author of the program was, or perhaps simply unable to believe.

"B'Elanna," moaned a familiar voice, low and filled with passion, totally unlike its normal reserved tone. And suddenly it all fell into place.

"Oh my God," she whispered. "Seven."

She watched, frozen in place, as the Torres hologram worked its way down, leaving a trail of kisses until Seven's sharp intake of breath informed her that its mouth had reached a nipple; a hand went to the other full breast, one finger circling the large, rosy areola. Seven moaned, her eyes closed, her cheeks lightly flushed, her mouth open to draw in irregular sighing breaths.

B'Elanna stood suddenly and reached to deactivate the link. She had recorded enough, more than enough, but her hand hovered over the computer before slowly withdrawing. She sat down again, watching Seven's face in fascination as the former borg's excitement rose at the hologram's ministrations. The ice-blue eyes opened and she looked down at her ersatz lover. "Please, B'Elanna," she gasped, "I need it now." All the emotional walls were down, her face was naked and she'd never looked more beautiful to the half-klingon. As the hologram resumed its path down Seven's body B'Elanna's right hand unconsciously began to mirror its journey, her left reaching up and caressing a breast through her night-dress, a sigh escaping her lips at the sensation of silk sliding over the hardening nub.

Now the hologram was lying between the willowy blonde's spread legs, teasing her, kissing and nipping at the flesh of her thighs, darting towards her mons and then moving away. "Please," Seven begged, pushing her hips up in an effort to relieve this sweet torture. She grasped at the hologram's head and pulled the teasing mouth in to where she needed it. As her back arched and she let out a loud groan B'Elanna stood again breathing heavily.

Not really sure what she was intending to do, she hurried back into the bedroom and grabbed her commbadge from the bedside cabinet.

"Computer, lock onto my co-ordinates and initiate a site-to-site transport: Holodeck One."

As she materialised in the holographic bedroom her sensitive klingon nostrils immediately detected the heady scent of the ex-borg's arousal. An abandoned moan came from behind and she turned to see the scene that had been playing out on her computer screen. Seven's eyes were squeezed shut as she threw her head restlessly from side to side, hair pulled into disarray. She clutched convulsively at the silken sheets beneath her as her breath came in shallow gasps.

B'Elanna should have been angry, furious even, but watching the former borg squirming on the bed, all her inhibitions left behind as she drew closer to her climax was somehow strangely moving. She glanced at the hologram, reminding herself that Seven must have broken into her medical files to create such an anatomically accurate representation, but it was no use, there was no anger to tap into; there was no denying the pulse throbbing through her body and the wet heat between her thighs. There was no denying the fierce emotions consuming her. When she spoke she was amazed at the calmness of her voice.

"Computer, delete holographic character."

As Torres simulation alpha-one shimmered out of existence Seven immediately froze. For a moment the room was utterly silent and still; then the ex-borg sat up, a look of horror on her flushed face, drawing her legs up protectively in front of her. For a moment they simply stared at one another, and then Seven spoke, a tremor in her voice.

"Lieutenant, I can explain..."

B'Elanna almost laughed at this absurdity but something prompted her to maintain her cold, blank expression. Part of her wanted nothing more than to put Seven out of her misery but another part of her, the klingon part perhaps, took a cruel delight in her sudden power over the ex-borg.

"I... needed... I'm sorry..."

She slowly walked round the side of the bed, noticing the way Seven swallowed nervously, almost tasting her scent as she drew closer.

"What did you need?" she said coldly as she sat on the edge of the bed.

"You," came the hoarse reply. The former drone dropped her gaze to her knees, unable to maintain eye contact any longer.

B'Elanna struggled with herself. Now was her last opportunity to back out of this. She could get up and transport back to her quarters, try and forget this had ever happened, turn her back on whatever was growing between them, or...

She reached out and Seven flinched as if expecting a blow, but when a gentle hand brushed a strand of hair aside she looked up, her eyes widening at the tender expression on B'Elanna's face.

"I love you," she blurted out suddenly and immediately looked frightened again, as if her words might break this new spell of hope.

"I think I'm beginning to love you as well," replied the engineer softly and leaned forward to kiss those soft lips.

After a while she drew back slightly to stare into the ice-blue eyes that were filled with wonder. It was as if Seven had had a revelation, as if a whole new world previously not guessed at had opened up its vistas to her.

B'Elanna grinned. "So, which is better: a hologram or the real thing?"