"Sometimes I wonder why I activate myself everyday. The truth is the ship could go on without me; they've proven that. If something were to happen to me, they'd just initiate another program, nothing changed. No one would miss me."

The Doctor stared into his empty cup sitting on the quiet table in Sandrine's. He might as well had been talking to the open air, his companion had nothing to contribute. The woman simply stared blankly. His attempts at programming the perfect listener had much more work to be done.

"Computer delete character." And she was gone.

He gazed over at the piano. He'd composed songs on that piano and countless more were in his mind. But what was the use? No one wanted to hear them and what was worse they weren't good enough to waste anyone's time. Recently he'd taken up painting and had absently asked someone what they thought of it. He'd been so proud to finally see it finished. To his dismay, they'd said his masterpiece was...nice.

Certainly worse than saying it was terrible was saying that it was nice. He'd concluded that he lacked the talent or passion or a mixture of both to convey his feelings. Hopes dashed, he saw the little painting as what it was...a sham, a disgrace to the fundamentals he'd applied. He had no right to pick up a paintbrush or carry a note. Reality was a boldly awakening experience. Instead of throwing the cup he let it lay, instead of screaming in anguish he stood up from his chair and nary a sigh left his lips.

He told the computer to end the program and he exited the hologrid. A stoic grimace framed his face. He walked stiffly to the turbolift and refused any comforting thoughts. The ride to sickbay's deck was like holding a breath. Silently he walked down the corridor to the familiar entrance. The lights were down and he didn't bother turning them on. He simply went to his desk and sat.

"Computer end program." And he faded away.

* * *

The Doctor had been spending more and more time in the holodeck lately. He didn't sing nor do any of his usual hobbies. In this particular holodeck program there was a counselor and a room with a couch. It was refreshing to have someone ask him those questions. He could just talk about anything without worry that he was rambling.

On this occasion, he'd deleted the counselor and put on some barely audible music as a background. He lay on the couch amid his own thoughts and didn't notice someone enter.

Seven wondered why the Doctor wasn't in sickbay and had found him there in the holodeck. The room was dimly lit by a single source. She didn't wish to disturb him but still walked toward him, his back to her. She stood not more than a meter from him and he'd not sensed her presence.

An odd thought crossed her mind. She wished she could curl up next to him and share his silence. Instead she settled with sitting in the chair opposite him. He finally saw her but didn't speak. She thought he looked as if he wondered how she was there.

He wondered if he'd programmed her with the simulation or that it really was Seven. He supposed it was. She was characteristically solemn and simply waited for him to break the silence.

Finally, it was her that spoke up.

"Am I disturbing you?" she asked.

"No." It was the only thing he could think of to say. There wasn't an explanation or small talk, nothing.

"Are you angry at me?" she said in the same tone.

He paused as if considering this. "No, should I be?" He said this with no trace of sarcasm.

"No." she said cautiously. She wondered if there was something wrong with him.

He was never so aloof with her. "I'm sorry. I'll go."

At once he was snapped out of his reverie at her threat to leave. "No, wait. Stay." He couldn't give her an explanation, but he needed her comfort just now.

She waited again for him to speak and upon determining he was not going to, asked him a question.

"How do you feel, Doctor?"

He considered her question for a moment; no one had ever asked him that before. "The truth is I'm conflicted." He looked at her with sad eyes and continued, "I've come to the realization that my life is...insufficient."

"Explain."

"For quite a while now I've aspired to be ever more than my programming and in many ways succeeded. The problem comes when I ask myself why. Why do I do all of this and why should I continue?"

Seven listened and silently encouraged him to go on.

"You may not believe this, Seven, but I am lonely."

Her gaze shifted away for a moment and a pensive expression graced her face. "Why do you think this, Doctor?" She said with her voice, a little lower than normal.

He looked into her eyes plaintively, "Because I have no one to share my life with." He noticed her confused expression and continued, "of course, I have you but you're my friend and I want someone to want to be with me."

"You want a mate for a romantic, sexual relationship?" she said in a slightly harsh tone.

"Romantic, yes. Not necessarily sexual." he tried to explain.

"But you have the adaptation for it, why wouldn't you want to pursue that form of relationship?" Seven sounded bitter about it.

"Why would you even ask that? All I'm interested in is love. Love, Seven. Can't you understand that?" He couldn't believe she was reacting like this.

"Then why--" she began and her voice cracked. He looked at her and saw the redness seeping up into her cheeks. Her eyes were cloudy and in the darkness of the room he'd swear he saw tears forming.

"Why what?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head. She'd been shocked and surprised when he'd announced he was looking for a romantic relationship. Something inside her woke up and was now in pain that he considered her as merely a friend. She realized then that he was what she'd been searching for and he was why she'd stopped searching for a mate. Why did she need anyone else but him? But now that he was considering someone else...a wall was broken.

She stood and took a deep breath. "Then why did you tell me that the lasting relationships start out as close friendships? Why did you lead me to believe that this was the natural progression of things? Why say those things if you were going to dismiss me as a friend instead of what you are looking for? " The last question came out as a whisper as she turned from him, "Why not me?"

She didn't see the look of surprise on his face or see him stand up. She didn't see him come up behind her or see the look of understanding come over his face.

All this time he'd tried to push aside what he felt for her. She was the reason he was lonely. In fact, she'd made him realize what it was to feel heartache. Now the roles were reversed; she needed him.

Instead of speaking, he reached out and put a strong hand on her shoulder. He pulled her to him, his hands claiming her face and waist. Her eyes were wild and defiant, and her lip quivered as she tried to keep a frown from collapsing. Though she fought it, a single tear escaped down her fiery cheek. He brushed it away and placed a soft kiss next to her mouth where it had fallen.

He pulled her closer to him in a tight hug. "Oh, Seven. First I was a fool not to tell you how I felt, and now I was a fool for thinking I could love anyone but you."

"Explain," she said though slightly muffled. At that he felt like laughing.

"I've loved you for a long time and I never told you. I almost did once, but I didn't take the risk. So now, I want to say it officially. You're amazing, Seven. You bring the only light into my life. I love you."

With that he brought his lips to hers in a promise, not to ever leave her and to try to make her as happy as she made him.