Torres decided that ripping up the deck plating from inside the turbolift would only satisfy her Klingon aggression but do nothing for her current predicament. She sighed loudly. What a predicament it was. Stuck in a turbolift with Ice Borg. Still, at least the drone had refrained from commenting on her irrational behaviour this time.

"Lieutenant, your endless pacing will not release us from the turbolift any more quickly," Seven reminded her in a flat tone.

"You're quite right Seven," Torres replied, smiling sweetly. Seven at least had the decency to look somewhat surprised by the manner in which the dark engineer had replied. Her look turned to smug relief as B'Elanna continued. "But if I don't pace, I'm scared that I may have to give in to my Klingon heritage and kill you for the irritating targ that you are." She growled the last words out menacingly.

"Threatening me will not cure..."

"Oh shut up!" B'Elanna took onboard a huge gulp of air before calming down a fraction. About a millionth she estimated.

"So, what do you suggest we do while we wait for Vorik to rescue us? I haven't got any cards on me so strip poker is out of the question. I seriously doubt that there's a pocket in that bio-suit. What does that leave; I Spy?"

"Considering our location, that game has only a limited entertainment value."

B'Elanna snorted. "Limited? I can only think of three. S for Seven, T for Torres and T for turbolift."

She leant back against the turbolift wall and crossed her arms, looking at Seven defiantly.

"There are a number of other possibilities," remarked Seven casually.

"Oh yeah? Go on then," invited B'Elanna.

Seven took one step closer. "T for torso," she breathed.

Suddenly, B'Elanna felt very hot, her cheeks aflame.

"B for breast," Seven continued huskily, stepping even closer. The corners of her mouth turned up as she saw B'Elanna gulp suddenly. She leant down towards the other woman and whispered, "L for lips."

B'Elanna was trapped up against the turbolift yet found that she didn't mind at all. Her eyes focused on Seven's full lips for an instant before they disappeared from sight to meet her own quivering lips.

The turbolift jolted suddenly and the two women sprang apart, the moment disintegrating instantly. As the doors hissed open, Vorik stood by with a team of engineers.

"My apologies for my tardiness, Lieutenant," he began as Torres and Seven stood still and watched him. "I should have got you out at least four minutes earlier but I made an error in rectifying the fault."

"Don't sweat it, Vorik," B'Elanna cut into his diatribe quickly, urging her mind to kick into gear as she strode from the lift. "I wouldn't have missed those four minutes for the world," she muttered under her breath as she strode towards engineering.

Two hours later, B'Elanna was cursing everything Borg as she tried to undo some of the latest 'modifications' Seven had implemented without telling her. Grudgingly she had to admit that the majority of Seven's work had been brilliant and efficiency had improved. However, some of Voyager's circuitry wasn't up to the same sort of specifications as a Borg vessel and several capacitance relays in Jeffries Tube 13 had blown up in protest.

Crawling rapidly through the tube, dragging her tool kit behind her, B'Elanna managed to successfully exhaust her impressive selection of expletives and was now just growling. Turning the final corner to her destination, the dark Klingon was startled by Seven, somehow folded into a ridiculously small area, beavering at one of the access panels.

"Kahless, Seven, haven't you done enough for one day?" B'Elanna exploded.

"I am merely trying to rectify the problem I caused earlier," was the formal reply, no trace of the sensual woman B'Elanna had been privy to in the Turbolift.

"Can't you tell me anything for Chrissakes?" B'Elanna asked. "If you'd bothered to tell me, I wouldn't have had to climb through miles of cramped Jefferies tubes."

Seven sat back and looked at B'Elanna as the words sunk in. "I apologise Lieutenant, it did not occur to me that anyone else would arrive to fix the relays so promptly."

B'Elanna reeled. "Are you feeling alright? It's unlike you to apologise," she remarked acidly.

"The Doctor has reminded me on the protocols regarding etiquette. I find it illogical on the most part but realise that it is required."

"It's not just required Seven and it's not illogical," B'Elanna disagreed, her anger dissipating slowly. "You'd be amazed how much more you can get out of someone by asking in the right way. Believe me, I know. I had to learn fast after getting thrown in at the deep end." If Seven had any problem with the metaphor, she made no reference to it but her gaze adjusted slightly as she assessed what B'Elanna had said.

B'Elanna took out her tricorder and scanned the open access panel. "Damn, two of these relays are still malfunctioning." Wedging herself next to Seven, their bodies touching, she made a hurried adjustment.

"It would be imprudent for you to continue your actions," Seven advised, as B'Elanna carried on.

"Why not?" B'Elanna threw back, completing one repair.

"There is a power surge on that bank of relays I have not yet isolated. Completing the circuitry will overload the..." Seven did not have the opportunity to finish the sentence as the panel blasted both women back onto the deck.

B'Elanna groaned as she held her head, her ears ringing. "A simple 'Stop!' might have been more efficient," she grumbled.

"Would you have stopped had I asked you to?" retorted Seven, lying still to B'Elanna's left side.

"Probably not," acquiesced the Klingon.

"Then it would not have been more efficient," Seven contradicted.

B'Elanna rolled onto one side to face the Borg, realising as they did that their faces were now just millimetres apart.

"Do you know how aggravating you are?" she ground out, her words softening even as she spoke as she saw the look in Seven's eyes.

"Do you know how captivating you are?" rejoined Seven softly. B'Elanna stopped breathing for a moment, realising that her hearts were performing all sorts of gymnastics at this query. Unconsciously, she moved her lips closer, watching Seven's breathing increase rapidly at her advance.

"B'Elanna, Seven, are you OK?" Harry shouted from the end of the crawl space. Once again, the two women pulled their heads apart. B'Elanna could have sworn that she heard a growl of frustration from Seven. "This is unfinished business," she whispered to her, as she pulled herself to her feet, only then realising that her head was bleeding.

Harry got to them quickly. "B'Elanna, you need to get to Sick Bay. What happened?"

"I bodged up a repair. Seven, are you hurt?" she asked belatedly. "The accident has not affected me," Seven replied calculatingly.

"I will continue with the repairs while you attend Sick Bay. Ensign Kim, could you please assist me?"

B'Elanna, now behind Harry, stared wide-eyed at Seven who offered the merest hint of a smile that nevertheless did not go unnoticed by the Chief Engineer. Harry was equally amazed by Seven's request but had sped to her side almost before she had finished speaking. B'Elanna smiled gently back at Seven before leaving them to complete the repairs.

That evening, B'Elanna found herself in Sandrine's. She perched herself at the bar and took a long pull of beer straight from the bottle and wondered on what had happened. Was she really attracted to Seven? More to the point, was Seven really attracted to her? Or had it all just been an elaborate Borg game? The doors opened and in walked the object of her thoughts. Seven headed straight for B'Elanna and pulled up a stool.

"Would here be a less limited location to play I spy?" she asked innocently. Her timing was impeccable as B'Elanna snorted two jets of beer through her nostrils. Unfortunately, the engineer had been facing Seven as she performed this feat and succeeded in spraying liquid all over the Astrometrics Officer's chest.

Coughing, her eyes streaming at the burning sensation her nose was emitting, B'Elanna desperately tried to regain her poise. Hoping to gain a few moments, she grabbed the proffered cloth from the bar tender and hurriedly began wiping away the mess on Seven until she realised exactly what it was she was handling.

Seven raised an eyebrow as B'Elanna's hand stilled on one breast. Eventually the ex-drone found the breath to speak. "B is for.......?"

"Shit, shit, shit!" B'Elanna swore as she yanked herself away from the tall blonde. "I need another beer." She nodded at the bar tender who produced a full bottle for her. Rapidly, she chugged it and then nodded for another.

"Lieutenant, if you persist in imbibing rapidly, it will be to the detriment of your reason."

"If I want to get trashed, I will." The engineer retorted indignantly. "Least I can handle it," she continued, taking another large draught.

Seven bristled at the challenge. "I see no logic behind losing one's self control through alcohol," she snapped.

B'Elanna leant lazily into the bar and looked at Seven indulgently. Seven may have got the upper hand with her in the turbolift but now the tables had turned. "Frightened to let yourself go?" she asked, emulating Seven's earlier look with a raised eyebrow.

For some reason lost on Seven, the remark needled her. She stood up erect and looked at B'Elanna defiantly. "Bar tender, I'll have what Lieutenant Torres is having," she requested firmly.

B'Elanna burst out laughing. "Never challenge a Klingon to a drinking match," she advised, finishing her bottle.

"You are only half Klingon," Seven reminded her, "and by my estimation, you are already three bottles ahead. That evens things out somewhat."

"Only two and a half, the other half is sprayed across your chest." B'Elanna responded with a grin and allowed her eyes to wander across Seven's chest as she spoke, reasoning that she was merely observing the mess she had made.

Just two bottles later and the two women had moved to monopolise the pool table. Despite Seven mentally calculating the perfect angle for each shot, she was now consistently missing the pocket.

"I do not understand," she complained as B'Elanna leant over and sunk another ball. "I have re-checked my calculations and yet I am unable to succeed."

B'Elanna smirked as she brushed past the tall Astrometrics officer and bent slowly over the table in front of her. "Those beers you had have affected how you play. You need a steadier hand." The Klingon stood up as she surveyed another completed shot and then a thought crossed her mind. "Let me show you," she suggested. "Line up the next shot as to how you think it should be played," she instructed.

Seven looked at B'Elanna carefully before taking on another mouthful of beer. She then positioned herself at the table and lined up the shot as ordered.

B'Elanna allowed herself a small smile before coming up behind Seven and leaning over her, looking down the length of the cue to judge the angle for herself. Seven felt the Klingon's warmth radiate onto her and suddenly felt dizzy. Her earlier "prank" in the turbolift earlier had backfired in a spectacular way. Now it was she that was trapped by the gorgeous Klingon, and the alcohol in her system was doing nothing to help her self-control. Involuntarily, she moaned softly as B'Elanna slid her arms round her ostensibly to alter the position of the cue. Knowing that any second now, she would lose the shred of self control that remained, Seven then proceeded to gouge a hole in the baize as she stabbed her cue reflexively at the bottom of the cue ball, just as B'Elanna had placed her lips to the Borg's ear to whisper alleged advice.

Hearing the rip, B'Elanna moved away and smiled openly, making sure that Seven knew that she had won this round.

Seven decided that the ripping of the baize was enough of a hint for her to leave the table and she returned to the bar. She waved at the barman to gain his attention and lined up two more beers.

"Er, don't you think you've had enough?" B'Elanna asked nervously.

"Have you finished drinking for the night?" Seven rejoined.

"No, but I do have a higher tolerance than you," she pointed out.

Seven ignored the last comment and copied B'Elanna's earlier action of chugging the beer straight down. It was the only thing she could think to do in order not to grab B'Elanna there and then. In the far recesses of her mind, there was a tiny voice of protest. Drinking more would just lower her defences totally. Despite acting provocatively earlier in the Turbolift, she had the iron self control to at least have some semblance of restraint. Now she was likely to do something that she might regret and, more importantly, distance B'Elanna. That was the last thing she wanted. She took a moment to relish the sensations that swept through her whenever she thought of the lithe, strong engineer. Feeling her face heat with passion as well as the affects of the alcohol, Seven necked the bottle and nodded for another.

B'Elanna started to get the dread feeling that she was going to end up in real trouble. Seven was having difficulty standing, and when she tried to seat her on a bar stool, took great delight in falling bonelessly off it, straight into B'Elanna's arms.

"Four bottles, Seven," she chided softly, as she propped the woman up again for the umpteenth time. "You lightweight."

Seven grinned drunkenly at her. "Okay Lieutenant, you win," she conceded, before knocking back another mouthful of beer. B'Elanna groaned loudly and took the bottle away from Seven. If this got out, Janeway would have her cleaning out the Bussard Collectors with her toothbrush.

"Come on Seven," she encouraged the tall blonde, hanging onto both her shoulders in a vain attempt to keep her upright. "Let's get you home."

Seven swayed alarmingly as B'Elanna guided her toward the holodeck exit. She daren't look around in case she met the gaze of anyone but the engineer hoped fervently that no one would say anything.

Ricocheting down the corridor, Seven successfully navigated the straight path crookedly and halted unsteadily at the entrance to the turbolift. Fortunately, the car arrived quickly and was empty. B'Elanna hoped that it would remain that way.

"B'Elanna, I do not think it would be wise for me to return to my alcove," Seven slurred as her body slammed back against the rear of the turbolift.

"Why not?" B'Elanna asked, alarmed.

"I don't think I'll be able to remain standing," Seven smiled even as she gripped onto the sides of the turbolift in an effort to stay upright.

B'Elanna groaned loudly. "You'll have to sleep at mine then. On the couch," she added as she saw a glint in Seven's eye.

Suddenly, the turbolift halted. B'Elanna cursed quietly before prising a panel off in attempt to fix it. After a few moments she called Engineering.

"Don't worry Lieutenant," came the disembodied voice over the conn. "We'll get on it right away."

"If you'd fixed it right in the first place you wouldn't have to," the Chief engineer growled back before closing the link.

"Do not worry Lieutenant, although I do not have any cards, I can still entertain you," offered Seven.

"What? You're not going to strip for me are you?" B'Elanna asked incredulously.

"No, though, now you come to mention it, that may be more entertaining," Seven mused.

"No, no no." B'Elanna interjected. "Honestly, I was just joking." 'Well sort of,' she reminded herself ironically.

"No, I am not going to perform a striptease, I am going to serenade you," Seven told the shocked engineer. Seven allowed her legs to buckle underneath her but then expanded her chest out to fill her lungs. B'Elanna closed her eyes briefly, wondering what the lithe ex-drone would sing and how it could affect her. Her eyes shot open as Seven started.

"I've been working down the Rail Yard,
All the live-long day,"

"You've gotta be joking me, right?" B'Elanna interjected incredulously.

"Well if you don't want to hear it," Seven pouted, crossing her arms defensively.

"Well it's not exactly a serenade is it?"

"Perhaps you should sing me a serenade, B'Elanna as a demonstration," Seven smiled at the engineer triumphantly.

B'Elanna leant back, realising that she'd been totally suckered in.

"Vorik, I'm going to pull your pointy little ears off and shove them up your ass when I get out of here," she vowed under her breath.

"Seven, I can't sing," she protested.

"Then I shall resume," responded Seven and opened her mouth again.

"No, hang on, I know one song. Well, not all of it," B'Elanna hedged. "I'll just sing you the bits I know." Seven nodded her head in encouragement; eyes still slightly glazed through the influence of alcohol and her face flushed.

In a low, husky yet undeniably sexy contralto, B'Elanna sang the words she knew to a song she vaguely recollected. Seven closed her eyes and leant back, enjoying her private serenade.

"Made a wish, I can dream,
I can be what I want to be
Not afraid, to live life
and fulfil my fantasies,
I learnt a lot of tricks to help me
live my life
You helped me find my paradise
When you came you were like

Sunshine through my window
That's what you are, my shining star, sunshine,
Making me feel I'm on top of the world
Telling me I'll go far

You are the calm, and I am the storm
You are the breeze that carries me home,
When I set adrift, you anchor at me
You're there for me."

B'Elanna stopped suddenly, unable to remember anymore and blushing furiously at the words, realising how true at least some of them were. Realising that she'd not been focusing on anything as she sang, she fixed her gaze onto Seven and saw that the drone had fallen asleep. "Great, the one time I pluck up the courage to sing, and I bore my audience to sleep," the Chief Engineer grumbled. "Oh well, at least she won't criticise me for being flat," she mused.

Seven opened her fully human eye a fraction and looked at B'Elanna lazily. "No one could ever accuse you of being flat B'Elanna," she responded, looking at the engineer seductively.

'Oh Gods, here we go again,' panicked B'Elanna, feeling her pulse soar.

"Sharp maybe," continued Seven, "but never flat."

B'Elanna stepped forward uncertainly, wanting to close the gap between Seven and her, yet unwilling to take advantage of Seven in her inebriated state. Seven responded to the move by sitting up more and focusing her eyes. Her breathing became faster and shallow as she watched B'Elanna decrease the distance between them and sit beside her.

Slowly, B'Elanna lowered her head, feeling her twin hearts hammering madly in her chest, wanting nothing more than to taste those sweet full cherry lips.

The turbolift jerked slightly before resuming the journey and the doors hissed open within seconds. B'Elanna sprang back and looked out, desperately hoping that she didn't have an audience.

Fortunately, the corridor was empty. Breathing a sigh of relief, B'Elanna hauled Seven to her feet and propelled her towards her quarters. After a few moments though, she realised that even though Seven's mind had been sharpened a few moments ago, her legs were still not working to order.

"Damn it, Seven. Concentrate on what you're doing. You're stumbling round like a new born Tikka cat," she chided softly.

Seven smiled in return and draped a long arm round B'Elanna's shoulders for support, putting most of her weight onto the smaller woman. "That was a beautiful song, B'Elanna," she slurred as she staggered.

B'Elanna, realising that for every step forward they were taking they were doing at least three side steps, decided to take control. She stood in front of the blonde ex-drone and then bent down, keeping hold of one of the drunken blonde's wrist's, she put her free arm through one of Seven's legs and hoisted her onto her shoulder. Steadying herself at the sudden load and surprised that Seven had offered no resistance to this man-handling, she then marched purposefully down the corridor, praying that the extra pressure on Seven's abdomen wouldn't induce the woman to vomit down her back - she hated vomit with a vengeance.

Once inside her quarters, the engineer approached the couch and was about to offload her cargo when she realised that Seven was far too tall for the sofa and would end up sleeping with her legs overhanging the end by quite some margin. Instead, she strode into the bedroom and then flipped Seven off her shoulder and dumped her unceremoniously onto her bed. The sudden movement did nothing to stir the drunken Borg and she lay unmoving except for the steady rise and fall of her chest. B'Elanna, feeling guilty for being the cause of Seven's drunkenness, pulled the covers up over the comatose woman and went out into her living area. She went to the replicator and indulged in a bottle of Jack Daniels. Grabbing a heavy crystal glass, she stretched out on the couch and took a sip at the whiskey, rolling the fiery liquid round her mouth before swallowing, deciding that it was time to complete the task of getting as legless as Seven.

It took her a moment to realise what had woken her. It certainly wasn't the taste in her mouth. She stumbled on that as she peeled her tongue from the roof of her mouth and spent the next few seconds rolling her tongue round trying to eradicate the taste to no avail. It was only after that delightful sensation she realised that she was parched. As her mind stepped up a level, she focused on what had woken her; the sound of someone vomiting.

B'Elanna swung her legs over the couch and stood up unsteadily, managing to kick the empty bottle of Jack Daniels across the floor. She realised vaguely that her head was pounding but she decided to ignore that little gem and made her way to the source of the sound.

As she stuck her head round the bathroom door, she saw Seven hugging the bowl tightly, eyes squeezed shut as she retched again vociferously, though judging by the results the sound was now inversely proportional to the amount she was ejecting.

Firmly battening down her own revulsion, B'Elanna approached Seven softly. "Hey, don't force it, just let your stomach do the work. It won't hurt so much," she advised gently, rubbing Seven's back in slow calming motions. Seven whimpered softly, feeling miserable. She was certain that she had vomit was in her nostrils, but was frightened to sniff as the taste was unbearable. Her head span and the smell made her want to vomit more, yet she did not have the strength to remove her cheek from the cool smooth porcelain. Up until B'Elanna's arrival, it had been her only comfort.

"Why do people inflict this torture on themselves?" she asked beseechingly as she gradually controlled her flipping stomach.

"I ask the same thing believe me," B'Elanna smiled.

She helped Seven get up in order to get away from the foul substance and guided her into the living area. Silently, she handed her a large glass. "It's water, and trust me, you need it. All of it," B'Elanna advised as she returned to the bathroom and hurriedly cleaned up.

She got herself a glass of water, downed it in one, gasping as she finished, before filling the glass again and joining Seven.

"I find it illogical that I should drink so much the night before yet have a seemingly unquenchable thirst now," Seven told her.

"I know," agreed B'Elanna. "It doesn't matter how much water you drink, you still fill thirsty."

Seven looked forlornly at B'Elanna. "I must apologise for my behaviour last night Lieutenant," she began.

"No, I was just as much to blame," interjected B'Elanna, feeling responsible for the ex-drone's hangover.

Seven smiled shyly at her companion. "I remember the song though. You have a remarkably expressive voice."

B'Elanna felt her blush rise past her hairline. "I, er..." she stammered.

Seven continued to look at the dark Klingon steadily. "I may have been drunk Lieutenant and my feelings somewhat unleashed, but..."

"Red Alert, all senior staff report to the Bridge," the disembodied voice of Captain Janeway broke over the comm.

Seven looked wide-eyed in alarm as she surveyed her bio-suit. Added to last night's beer stain was her own vomit. B'Elanna sprang into action, calling over her shoulder as she sprinted into her room to change. "Go and change, Seven. I'll cover for you."

The ship rocked as Seven stepped out onto the bridge.

"Tuvok, target their weapon systems, whoever they are," ordered Janeway from her chair. Tuvok merely nodded as his hands flew over the console.

"Seven, do you recognise this race?" the Captain asked as they were rocked by another blast.

"They are not a race that has been assimilated," replied Seven, stepping forward to a console just behind the two central chairs.

"I'll take that as a no," commented Janeway wryly. "Any luck with communications?" She looked at Kim expectantly.

"They can hear us Captain, they just don't want to answer," the Asian ensign told her.

Seven looked round the bridge surreptitiously and realised with a small lurch that B'Elanna was absent. On cue, the Chief Engineer's voice could be heard over the comm. "Engineering to the bridge, the Warp Core is back on line." Seven's eyebrows shot up in alarm. How much had she missed?

"Not bad B'Elanna, thirty seconds. Must be a record," complimented Janeway. "Now all we need to do is find out what they want."

At that moment, their attackers chose to break the communications deadlock.

A tall, humanoid male with dark green skin and wide black eyes appeared on the forward view screen. "You are violating Terreptian space. If you do not leave immediately, I will be forced to take punitive action," he warned. Janeway opened her mouth to retort but the comm. Link had already been severed. The ship rocked again.

"I wonder what his idea of 'punitive' is," remarked Seven dryly.

Suddenly, there was a shimmering and three similar aliens materialised around the ex-drone. Instantaneously, Tuvok and Chakotay drew their phasers, but the aliens were as gone as quickly as they appeared, taking Seven with them.

Janeway shot out of her chair. "Follow them, Mr Paris," she ordered as she watched the alien vessels wink out of sight, jumping to warp.

"No can do, Captain," Paris retorted. "Warp engines are off line again," he explained disgustedly.

"Bridge to Engineering," the Captain called exasperatedly.

"Vorik here," was the crisp reply. "Captain I estimate that the engines will be back on line in approximately ten minutes. However, you must be advised that Lieutenant Torres has been abducted."

Janeway turned to face her First Officer. Squaring her shoulders, Janeway answered Vorik, but spoke to the entire bridge crew. "Get those engines back on line fast Vorik. I want my people back."

As soon as Seven materialised, she back handed the captor to her right before punching the second in his jaw with her Borg enhanced left hand, enjoying the satisfaction of hearing the crunch of bones as she connected.

"I suggest you cease your resistance," a voice overhead advised her. She stopped briefly and surveyed her surroundings, eyeing the third captor warily. "And why should I?" she asked the non-corporeal voice.

"Because if you continue I shall be forced to punish your colleague." With that, a small corner was illuminated and Seven saw B'Elanna held fast by two guards, both with what she assumed were guns of some description, jammed against either temple. It was all the encouragement she needed and she dropped out of her stance instantly.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"I need your expertise to fix one of our weapons," came the direct reply.

"Well at least they didn't try to hide their intentions only for us to stumble upon them right at the last minute," commiserated B'Elanna, earning herself a sharp prod with a gun.

"Surely you know that we cannot comply," Seven retorted.

"That is why we took both of you. One of you will agree or watch the other one die."

"Oh, that's original," scoffed B'Elanna. "While you're at it, why don't you disable one of us too?" she suggested sarcastically. The slap she received for her comment snapped her head viciously but the engineer stubbornly refused to show that she'd been hurt. Seven stepped forward involuntarily, concerned.

"Well that tells us how to proceed," the disembodied voice continued. "Take the dark one and continue punishment until the blonde one agrees to help," he ordered.

"Don't you dare agree," warned B'Elanna, looking forcefully at Seven, seeing the anguish on the young ex-drone's face.

"There is no need to fear that, Lieutenant. Your animosity toward me since my arrival on Voyager is legendary. I have no intention of assisting these people. No amount of discomfort on your part will change my opinion," she stated flatly, fervently hoping that only the engineer would see through the statement and realise that she was really calling their bluff.

"You just say that," retorted the voice over their heads. Some unknown signal prompted one of B'Elanna's captors to strike her again. Once more, she refused to give them the satisfaction of hearing her cry out. Now that Seven was ready, she steeled herself and remained motionless, her face impassive.

There was an enraged snarl. "Lock them up," he instructed. "We'll see how resistant they are."

Thrown into a pitch-black cell, both B'Elanna and Seven blindly searched the room, looking for any unpleasant surprises. The only thing they found was each other, and that was anything but unpleasant.

"I am so sorry," whispered Seven, clutching at B'Elanna's hand. "It was only a ruse. Please believe me," she pleaded.

"Shhhhh, I believe you, don't worry," reassured the Klingon. Her face was still stinging from the blows she had received but she's managed to hide the blood that had been shed. The two women huddled close together for both warmth and strength.

"I am at a loss as how to escape this predicament," Seven confided. She sighed as she felt B'Elanna stroke her back gently, reminding her of just a short while ago.

"We'll think of something," B'Elanna reassured her. "Or die trying." Seven smiled weakly in the blackness, knowing that the engineer could not see her. She shifted her weight slightly and leant back.

"There is a slight compensation," she whispered softly into the smaller woman's ear. Her smile widened as she felt the engineer stiffen suddenly. "No interruptions from Voyager."

B'Elanna spun her head round to meet Seven's and brought her hand up to touch the face she couldn't see.

"Seven, I..."

There was a familiar whine as a blue shimmering flooded over them and disintegrated their bodies.

They re-materialised in Transporter Room 1, both squinting their eyes at the sudden change in lighting.

"Welcome back," Ayala greeted them, reading nothing into their proximity. B'Elanna groaned as she sprung to her feet. Turning round to help Seven up, she saw that the tall blonde had already stood up and was looking at the Klingon carefully.

"I am no longer able to calculate the odds on us being interrupted again," the cool Borg fumed, provoking a sharp mirthless laugh from B'Elanna.

"Well in that case, hopefully next time we should win the jackpot," and with that, she turned away and headed for the exit.

The damage the alien vessels had caused meant that B'Elanna was kept occupied almost continually. Despite having a worthy hierarchy within Engineering, she couldn't just leave or expect her team to work any more than she did. Consequently, it was Vorik who reminded her that she had far outstayed her time.

"Vorik, I can't leave yet, the Aft shields are still only operating at 25%," she protested.

"Then I suggest that you return when your stomach is less vociferous in its callings," remarked Vorik, earning a suspicious look from B'Elanna. "If I didn't know better, I'd say that was a joke Vorik," she told him. Vorik raised a questioning eyebrow in return. She gave up and stood. "Okay, okay. I'm going."

In the mess hall, she spotted Seven seated alone in a corner. Snaking between the tables and chairs, she approached the voluptuous Astrometrics officer and sat down without waiting for an invitation.

"Hey Seven," she greeted.

"B'Elanna," Seven replied, prodding her fork disinterestedly at an unusual looking piece of vegetation.

"I'm starved. I could eat a scabby dog," B'Elanna continued. "Any recommendations?"

"After trying to ingest this, I suggest scabby dog," Seven replied tonelessly. B'Elanna threw her head back and laughed, startling Seven. "I was serious," she told the athletic engineer, earning a wide-eyed look of surprise before giving it away by grinning.

B'Elanna laughed again and decided that it was time to splurge more replicator rations. She got up and came back with a far more enticing dish, though unrecognisable to Seven and tucked in ravenously.

"So now that the odds of interruption have increased to an incalculable level, when would you like to meet in private?" asked Seven. As ever, her timing was impeccable, this time earning herself a meal medal as B'Elanna choked and then spat out the morsel of food she'd been chewing.

"Have you checked the long distance sensors?" asked B'Elanna in reply, once she'd regained some semblance of control.

"I have," Seven confirmed. "There are no spatial or temporal anomalies, the area is barren of life forms, hostile or otherwise and I can se no other potential problems occurring for at least the next three days."

"Three days?" squeaked B'Elanna.

"I checked your work pattern, Lieutenant. You are owed far more time than that, but I need to regenerate after three days. I approached the Captain who, somewhat surprisingly given her interest in me, agreed to release you from duty for three days along with myself." Seven paused to draw breath. "Is three days not enough?" she asked innocently. B'Elanna answered by standing up and grabbing her hand, leading her to the mess hall exit.

"Where are we going?" asked Seven, having to lengthen her stride to keep up with the excited engineer.

"Where do you think?"