B'Elanna fidgeted uneasily as she waited for the turbolift to arrive, still feeling as if she was in shock after the events of the previous night. She could hardly believe that it had really happened. It had happened hadn't it? Maybe it had just been a dream, an incredibly vivid dream. She found herself clinging to this hope, trying by force of will to delude herself into accepting it as the truth - but no, there was no escaping what she'd done, what they had done. Okay, move to plan b: she would simply ignore the whole wretched mess; let it go away on its own; it had happened, end of story; no need to even think about it anymore. Yes, a good plan; she could manage that; no need to think about what had occurred last night ever again. She thought about blonde hair tickling the tops of her thighs, and at that moment the turbolift hissed open to reveal the owner of those blonde tresses.

They stared at one another for a moment, neither of them knowing what to say. This morning her hair was back in its usual orderly twist, not a strand out of place.

"Lieutenant," she acknowledged politely and dispassionately.

"Seven," came her own dispassionate response. Taking her courage in both hands she entered the turbolift to stand beside the woman who had been a thorn in her side for the last three years. Damn it, Seven. Look at me. Say something. And she did turn that piercing blue gaze on her, but instead of speaking she merely quirked her metallic eyebrow quizzically and B'Elanna realised that the computer was still waiting for her command.

"Deck One: Bridge."

Eyes forward, blank the mind, think of nothing.

She stole a glance at the proud profile: nothing! Hands clasped behind her back, face composed, dimpled chin tilted at its most arrogant. Had last night meant nothing to her? No! Don't think about last night; don't think about the way Seven had clutched at her desperately, sobbing with the release of pent up emotion, crying out her name. No, it certainly hadn't meant nothing to her.

"Computer: halt turbolift!"

Now there was a reaction; Seven turned to her in alarm. "What are you doing?"

Ah ha! The facade starts to crumble. "This is ridiculous. We can't just ignore what happened last night."

"I do not wish to discuss it, Lieutenant."

"You didn't call me Lieutenant last..."

"Last night was a mistake."

She heard the tremor in Seven's voice and realised how frightened she was.

"No it wasn't," she said softly. "It was glorious."

"We merely copulated." She tried to sound impassive, but failed to keep the anxiety and longing from her voice.

"You cried," she said, moving closer, making Seven back into the wall behind her.

The former Borg's eyes were wide open, her lips slightly parted drawing in quick, shallow breaths. "Lieutenant... B'Elanna, please..."

She gasped when B'Elanna touched her arm.

"You're afraid I'll hurt you."

"Yes," came the barely audible reply.

"You've been hurt so much before..."

"Yes," almost a whisper.

"I won't hurt you, I promise."

She moved her hand up to gently stroke Seven's pale cheek, feeling her tremble with fear and desire. The taller woman closed her eyes and moaned softly as B'Elanna trailed her hand round to the back of her neck and drew her down until their lips met, barely grazing against each other.

"Yes," breathed Seven against her mouth and parted her tender lips to admit her, and soon the turbolift tube was reverberating to the sounds of their mutual passion.