No Longer Alone
by Lorre
Author's Notes: This is part of the Spock-Fuh-q-Fest, and as a
result kira-nerys has my permission to distribute this in any way she sees fit. http://www.kardasi.com/fuh-q-fest-2/
No Longer Alone Two years in the future from the current Voyager time line * * * A voice came out of the darkness, infiltrating Seven of Nine's mind. "We are Borg. You are Borg. You will rejoin the collective immediately." The sterile sound haunted her. "I am not Borg, I am human. I exist as an individual of one." Seven of Nine replied to the darkened room. "Resistance is so futile, Seven of Nine." The voice of the Borg Queen over shadowed the typical Borg monotone. "You must return to the Borg, they are your home." Seven of Nine rolled over in bed, attempting to force the voices out of her head. They were growing stronger since her return to the alpha quadrant. From her experience on Voyager, she realized that these were only resultant memories, but that didn't make them any less valid. There were to many faces, faces of humanoid life forms that she herself had assimilated. Seven knew the emotion as guilt, and she also knew that she couldn't help what she had done as a Borg. It didn't make the pain any less. Since the return of Voyager, Starfleet had embraced her as an advisor, having been with the Borg for a very long time. In addition, she was still more Borg than any of the other individuals who had been rehabilitated. She knew that she was a very valuable individual, important to the Starfleet collective. Starfleet was a collective, and even though she didn't refer to it verbally as thus, it would always be that within her own thoughts. Perhaps she even missed her original collective. It was much more efficient to transfer information. Then again, there was the guilt. Individuality was a much better choice. Seven hit her comm badge. "Seven of Nine, to the Emergency Medical Holographic Doctor of Voyager". The comm badge beep echoed through her quarters. "Doctor here. What can I do for you at such a late hour Seven?" The EMH's tone was warm, denoting several years of close friendship. "I am having difficulty sleeping Doctor." The transition into sleeping from using the Borg regeneration devise. The Doctor was used to treating her insomnia. Seven could almost see the Doctor smile. "Care for some company? How about a nice cup of warm milk in the mess hall? That always seems to help you sleep." "That would be adequate." Seven of Nine replied to him. "I will meet you there in approximately 15 minutes." The Doctor again sounded like he had a smile in his voice. "I will see you there then." * * * The Doctor sat at the table looking at a very exhausted Seven of Nine. Again she was telling him of the voices that seemed to haunt her. "Do you have any idea what could be triggering these voices, Seven." He said calmly, in a caring tone that he only used with her. "I do not know, Doctor. My work seems to be adequate. In fact, I have a meeting with a Scientific advisor from the Vulcan Science academy tomorrow. Apparently, they wish to do a Vulcan Mind meld to get a better idea of what the Borg collective is like." She paused, a slight note of anxiety in her voice. "Of course, I accepted the opportunity. Even I understand the honor which they have placed upon my scientific knowledge." The Doctor, while pleasantly naive about a few things, knew Seven of Nine a great deal better than he let on. "Then perhaps you are a bit anxious about this mind meld. What do you know of them?" He asked her, hoping to get a better idea of the problem. Seven nodded as if agreeing with the Doctor's premise. "It is highly possible that I am anxious concerning my upcoming experience, for in the Borg such Vulcan mind melds were something they feared. "What do you mean?" The Doctor asked, seemingly full of prodding questions so late in the night. "Well, the Borg had difficulty assimilating 'bonded' Vulcans. The typical Vulcan drone was only good for seven years or so, until their time for Pon Farr came upon in." Seven paused, gathering her thoughts. "However, the bonded drone almost always failed. Apparently, their telepathic connection with their bonded mate could never be appropriately dealt with in Borg technology. It was best just to terminate them." "Interesting, so what you are saying Seven is that they killed married Vulcans?" The Doctor replied. "That is correct." Seven stated. The Doctor rubbed his brow. "You know what I think Seven," as usually the Doctor offered his opinion whether or not it was wanted. However, with Seven he knew that she appreciated what ever advise he could give. "I think you think that the mind meld might cause some problems with your Borg circuits, at least subconsciously." The Doctor placed a hand on her arm in comfort. "I honestly don't think the Vulcan Science Academy would recommend this method for obtaining information unless they felt it was safe to both you and the individual who will be doing the meld." Seven visibly relaxed. "I know this. Vulcan's are highly logical beings, I just think that I needed to hear someone else say it." "Do you think you can get some rest Seven?" The Doctor again asked. "I think I am adequately relaxed enough to fall asleep." Seven responded. "Just one more thing though Doctor." "What is that Seven?" He asked, warmly smiling at her. "Could I request your presence at the mind meld tomorrow?" She asked. "I would be honored to be there." The Doctor replied. * * * Ambassador Spock stood waiting his turn to be transported to the awaiting ship. On the ship he had an appointment of a very interesting nature. He had been asked to do a mind meld with a former Borg, who had grown up within the Borg collective. Seven of Nine, a human female, had existed the longer within the collective than any other humanoid. It made her unique. Spock couldn't ignore the fact that the opportunity to meld with her for the sake of science was unlike any other honor that he had received. He truly was going where no individual had gone before. Her mind could contain the information necessary for permanently eliminating the threat the Borg had for the Federation. The Transporter Chief nodded at him. Ambassador Spock nodded back. He ascended to the transporter pad. The Chief hit a set of buttons, and transported Spock into the unknown. * * * Seven stood by a portal, opening up to a view of Earth. She was early, but she knew that it was best to be early where Vulcans were considered. She had slept, but she still was tired. Her body felt her exhaustion deep into it's bones, and nothing her Borg implants could do to help her deal with it. So she simply endured. The Doctor entered through the door. "Are you ready Seven?" He asked softly, with concern in his voice. "Yes, Doctor. I am ready." Was all the Seven replied. She knew from experience that he would leave her alone to her thoughts if she toned her voice just so. It was an unwritten agreement between the both of them. While he may not do it for his other friends and patients, he would do it for her. The door to the room swished open again, and Seven turned around. There stood a Vulcan male, of undermined age. He was definitely much older than Tuvok, and much different. While Tuvok's skin was a dark brown, this Vulcan male's skin was ivory. He raised an eyebrow, a customary indication of Vulcan curiosity. "I presume you are Seven of Nine." The Vulcan male stated. "I am Ambassador Spock, recently of Romulous." Seven, remembering the manners that the Doctor tried to ingrain into her replied, "It is a pleasure to meet you Ambassador Spock. This is my associate and friend, The Emergency Medical Holographic Doctor, Mark 1, from Voyager. I am sure you are familiar with him?" Spock nodded at the Doctor. "Yes, I have been briefed as to his nature. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He paused. "I realize that you have been informed that T'lilth would be the Vulcan preforming this. She is unavailable, and I was the next logical choice as I was in the location." Anxiety heightened in Seven of Nine's stomach, but her face didn't betray her emotion. She wouldn't let a Vulcan see her emotion, her fear. "I find you acceptable Ambassador Spock. It will be a honor I assure you. I am quite familiar with your career. Even among the Borg, you are known for your ingenuity and knowledge." Seven continued on with the stoic Vulcan formality. "I am pleased that this change does not cause you any great anxiety." Even with his stoic demeanor, there seemed to be an almost human twinkle in his eyes. He turned to the Doctor. "I assume you are here to monitor health concerns?" "You're correct in your assumption Mr. Spock." The Doctor replied. "Then it would be illogical to wait any further." Spock indicated that Seven of Nine should take a seat on a near by chair. He pulled another chair up next to it. For a moment he sat there staring into her eyes. For the first time Seven of Nine allowed herself to see past her anxiety. Ambassador Spock while older, was a truly dignified and handsome Vulcan. She swallowed, her throat contorting slightly. For the first time in a long time, Spock had to suppress an urge to smile. Seven of Nine's beauty was an understatement. He had read her reports to the Vulcan Science Academy, and in them her logic was flawless. Yet, she obviously displayed subtle signs of emotion. Curiously he desired to know what secrets a mind meld with her could reveal. Understanding the Borg collective was important, even though they did not pose an immediate threat to the safety of the Federation one did not know when they would return. However, Seven of Nine as a human being socialized in such a situation would be fascinating to understand. "Seven, momentarily I will begin the mind meld. It won't be uncomfortable, or at least you should not experience any discomfort from a mind meld." Spock paused looking for the correct words to set this human at ease, as she was very much a human. "While you may seem embarrassed by things that I will reveal, please do not be. If I choose to relate a memory back to the academy, you must understand they will treat it with the utmost of scientific respect." Seven nodded. "I understand, Ambassador Spock. I would prefer to as the Doctor would say, 'get this over as soon as possible'." She glanced at the Doctor, seeing him smile. Her anxiety over the meld was rapidly replacing a delicious but upsetting anticipation for the meld. The Vulcan Science Academy wasn't the only one interested in furthering knowledge. Spock placed his fingers on her face in the traditional position of the Vulcan mind meld. "My mind to your mind. Your thoughts to my thoughts." Seven of Nine felt on a very instinctual level Ambassador Spock's mind push into hers. His eyes seemed to pull into hers, and she seemed to sink into a deeper stage of consciousness much like when she regenerated. For a spilt moment she became parallelized with fear. Then she felt something she hadn't felt in years, coexisting consciousness. Spock sent a conscious thought to Seven. "Relax, this process will be much easier for you and me if you do." He felt her fear, and memories of the Borg Collective. "I am not the Borg." With that Spock allowed her to obtain a mental glimpse of his own nature, of the logic, and of the emotion the logic buried. Seven of Nine relaxed, dropping her own defensive mental block. "I apologize, Ambassador." Deep inside of her she could feel Spock's amusement with the title. "Perhaps it would be more appropriate to refer to me as Spock." His thought pushed into her mind like a humourous retort, even though she knew he was Vulcan. He began to access her memories, attempting to obtain an overall view on the Borg. Seven shivered mentally. The exchange was so one-sided. Spock realized this, knowing just how invasive a one sided mind meld could be. A thought traveled into him, based upon a long-ago memory of Seven's while in the collective. The collective was based upon two way, unified communication. In order to obtain the fullest of Borg experiences it would be important to engage in a collective exchange of information. It was the only logical way. He also knew that while Seven could engage this style of communication, her humanity wouldn't allow her to do this without permission. "You have my consent, Seven of Nine." Spock allowed her to feel his acquiescence, letting down his mental barriers to her consciousness. Everything seemed to flood in at once. Memories of multitudes of voices, based in machine-like logic filled his head. Then one bright one, one with the clarity of pure logic floated into his mind. Seven began to process his memories just as he had begun to process hers. The light that was Seven, didn't shirk when encountering the most intimate and private memories of Spock. She felt his affection for his friends, that he never seemed to show. She experienced his death on a variety of levels, and his rebirth. She paused for a moment when analyzing his experiences with Saavik, her love and his, and her subsequent death at the hands of the Dominion. Seven paused for a moment, puzzled as to the depth of a supposedly unfeeling Vulcan's emotion. Spock began to search throughout her own memories for a comparable feeling, but found none. He found memories of friendship, and affection, but no passion, lust or love. "The emotion you are feeling through my memory is love." Seven seemed to ask for permission to explore this in a more deeper way. Spock granted it, even though the process would be uncomfortable. For a minute or two Seven explored the almost violent depth of feeling that Spock held for the female Vulcan/Romulan. First, the warm affection of a parent/mentor, and finally the love/lust a male Vulcan had for a mate. One thought seemed to scream at Spock from the depth of Seven of Nine. He only saw it for a brief moment, before it disappeared behind the cool and confident facade that he was rapidly beginning to see as Seven. "Why not me? When will I feel, and be the object of such devotion? Why must I exist so completely alone?" Loneliness was the curse of a humanoid reintegrated into a single conscious existence. The earlier the assimilation, the more likely the humanoid's inability to socialize appropriate emotional definitions. Her frustration in understanding basic emotions, but still feeling them rang out loud and clear. It was all very fascinating, and it rang a cord deep in him. He struggled to suppress it before she could understand it. However, Seven with all her Borg enhanced consciousness understood it. Spock knew the meaning of loneliness. Unable to control her own emotion, she reached out to him attempting to offer him the comfort of herself and her experiences. Spock retreated attempting to pull up a wall of logic, but finding himself unable to do so. He couldn't because he understood the nature of her need. She hid who she was not because she was forced to, but because it was the only way she knew how to survive. She hid herself because it was easier than dealing with the more complicated emotions welling up inside of her. Realizing just how far from their purpose they had traveled, Spock attempted to refocus himself on the task at hand. It wasn't a lesson in Borg survivor reintegration. It was a lesson in Borg consciousness. Then a stray thought from Seven infiltrated his mind. "Perhaps that is the problem, the Borg do not understand feeling. Nor do the Borg know how to feel." "Your logic is impeccable." "And your mind is fascinating." With that they closed the mind-meld of mutual accord The Doctor smiled enthusiastically at them both. It had been a session with no apparent medical complications, which always made him feel good. "So how did it go?" He asked them both Spock was the one to reply. "Seven of Nine has provided the most interesting of knowledge and ideas in ways to deal with the Borg. The Vulcan Science Academy will be very appreciative and grateful for the information that she has provided. Seven of Nine, preoccupied with her own new found knowledge only nodded. Spock saw her quandary, and for a moment longed to reach out to her mentally and comfort her. Seven looked up into his eyes, almost as if she heard him. Then Spock realized that she had when she replied to him in kind. "I will be fine, Ambassador Spock." The Doctor raised an eyebrow at their apparent silence. To an outsider it seemed as if they were communicating, but he couldn't be sure as there was nothing said. "Fascinating," Spock said to the quiet room. He lifted his hand to Seven and the Doctor in the customary farewell of the Vulcan people. "Live long and prosper." Seven nodded, and smiled. She liked Spock, even after knowing him for so little of time. "It has been the most interesting of experiences, I assure you Ambassador." She told him formally. With that he left, trying to quell anxiety and something else growing inside of him. He needed to meditate. How had she....? More over, what was to become of this unique telepathic bond? * * * Later than evening.... Seven of Nine rolled over, half asleep. She could feel hands moving all over her. They paused over her the Borg implants on her body. Fire shot through her, centering on her inner thighs and the pit of her stomach. She ached, not quite realizing exactly what she wanted. His face, etched into her mind, surfaced. Something inside of her knew that more than a simple mind-meld had happened. Again she felt hands travel up her naked torso to caress her breasts, and then she realized that she hands were her own. Seven moaned softly. She wanted to reach out with her mind, it was if he was calling her. Something kept her from doing it. Perhaps it was the guilt of knowing just how intrusive and rude it would be. Perhaps it was her own fear of what might happen. While Spock was Vulcan, he was also a healthy male. Seven was just allowing herself to recognize that she has desires. He was attractive, and he was the first one to awaken the desire in her. It was logical to think that this was the reason for her hunger of him, but she also realized the desire wasn't exactly logical. She stood naked, and began to pace. The wetness between her thighs caused an interesting sensation as she walked. Her scent permeated the room. This was what everyone described as desire. She quelled the urge to put her fist through the bulkhead as a means of easing the delicious pain. Instead, she lifted her leg up and began to rub herself softly enjoying the sensation of slick wet folds. The resulting pleasure shot through her, causing her more mindless craving. Seven processed long ago memories, attempting to figure out a solution. She could call out to him, or she could attempt to ease this herself. A phallus object is what she needed. She hurried over to the replicator, not knowing if her flushed skin was from desire or embarrassment at her only option. The phallus like instrument, more commonly known as a vibrator, appeared. Seven grabbed it with the haste of an individual experiencing her first taste of physical desire. Seven turned the instrument on, feeling the vibration tingle down her hand. She savored it for a moment, before rubbing it across the sensitive flesh between her thighs. She bit her lip trying to keep a moan from turning into a scream. She slipped the vibrating phallus inside of her, allowing it to stretch her. Then she pulled it out rubbing it across the hardening nub of flesh that seemed to be the center of her ache. Even with the immediate stimulation that seemed to appease her ache as it increased it, something was missing. She longed for other hands doing these actions. She longed to feel a mind inside of hers, wanting her to share his pleasure as he pleasured her. Masturbation, while easing the physical ache, was doing little to ease the emotional emptiness. Fuck him, why did he have to do this to her. Why did he have to wake her up, and make her realize exactly what she was missing? Why did he have to show her that humanoid individuals didn't have to exist solely as one individual. She rubbed her folds again, biting down on her lip, and slipped the poor excuse for a male anatomy again inside of her. Fuck him! Now she truly understood the nature of the curse she had often over heard Ensign Tom Paris use. Why did it take such an innocent and honest procedure to awaken her to the true nature of desire? Of course she had shared memories of species propagation of many different Borg drones. This was much different. Seven leaned back against the bulkhead, closing her eyes as she attempted to ease the delicious and yet frustrating pain inside of her. In and out she thrust the phallus, taking her higher towards some yet unexperienced point. Yet she couldn't quite reach it. She bit her lip, and tasted the copper taste of her own blood. She took her other hand and began to rub the wet flesh as well. Finally, unable to reach what she hungered for. She roughly pulled the vibrator out of her, and through it against the far bulkhead. It shattered into pieces. A soft frustrating sob echoed throughout the room. * * * Spock attempted to meditate but it did little good. He could feel her desire, and it matched his own. She wanted him with a hunger than Spock had never experienced even in the deepest throws of his Pon Farr. He, in turn, craved her. It had been so long since he had even felt anything close to passion. With all of his Vulcan logic he couldn't suppress the need inside of him, and yet, it was that very same logic that kept him from going to her and quenching the fire. Even now, their mutual hunger was rapidly breaking down his will. Perhaps, it was the novelty of feeling the fire without experiencing Pon Farr. Had he ever felt desire without first being bonded? Spock forced himself back into his meditation, but the feel of her round soft breasts in his hand called him out of it. He felt like swearing. Then his hunger for Seven only increased. He could almost feel it as if it was his own anatomy pushing into her. He stood as if possessed by some outside force. He knew something had to be done before the insane need drove both of them completely insane. Spock hit his comm badge. Perhaps the Doctor, Seven's obviously close friend could assist him with this matter. * * * Seven felt the delicious blackness of her dark quarters caress her like a lovers hand, and yet she still couldn't open her eyes. Nothing she had tried calmed the hunger inside of her. The flesh between her thighs ached for someone's touch other than her own. The tips of her nipples tingled. How had she gone from stone cold to fiery need all in one day? Seven rolled over, pressing her aching nipples into the rough carpet. A soft mew escaped her lips. Again her fingers trailed down her torso, to softly play with the aching folds. In her desire induced delirium, she unconsciously rubbed her lips back and forth across the carpet to ease their own ache. As if out of nowhere firm hands began to need her exposed rear-end. It was almost as if somewhere, some deity had granted her request. Then as firm, slightly roughened tongue joined the assault. Seven let out a full on moan. Then she felt it, even though she couldn't see his face. She felt the present of Spock, as if he was requesting entrance to her very soul. She acquiesced, opening her entire being to him. She allowed him to see her hunger without question. Spock's own hunger washed over her like an uncontrollable nuclear reaction. His own physical actions mimicked it. His tongue thrust deep inside of her, then exited to lick back and forth across the hard wet skin. Seven again moaned, wanting to turn over, wanting to grab the Vulcan and throw him up against the wall in a fierce embrace. When she tried, his own Vulcan strength forced her to comply with his own wishes. Subconsciously she recognized just how well of a match they were. * * * Inside of her mind, Seven could feel him loving her in the most intimate of ways. The pleasure of the peaceful light, and the desire as he pulled the most erotic of knowledge out of her collective memory. She gave into the delight both physically and mentally, and yet she still couldn't get close to the edge that she wanted so desperately to fall over. Then his tongue was gone. A soft sound escaped Seven's mouth in protest. The physical emptiness inside of her was only increased by the mental fullness of his presence. She could see his fantasies of her touching herself, pinching her own nipples. He didn't want her to roll over. So instead, she pushed her ass up in the air as if issuing an invitation. "Take me." Seven begged in her mind. They both knew it was something she would have never said aloud. "You are already taken. You are mine." Spock's returning message seemed to envelope her mentally. "We have no other logical choice. It was meant to happen." With that Seven could feel him and her entrance. With a thrust, and a slight sting, Spock was inside of her. "I claim you Seven of Nine." The primitive lust with which he possessed her was not logical, but never-the-less it existed at the very core of him. Seven moaned. For the first time since she had been severed from the Borg collective she truly felt not alone. He was her collective, and yet they existed as two unique separate people. He moved within her, claiming her with his body, as well as his mind. She felt something building deep from within her, a pleasure so pure that it only could be described as perfection. She felt it growing within Spock as well. For a split moment it felt as if Seven hung on the edge of an abyss, ready to topple over the edge into oblivion. Spock thrust from behind, and simultaneously placed one solitary kiss on her back. Seven groaned as both she and Spock slid over the edge together. * * * Seven opened her eyes to an empty bed. For the first time in a long time she had slept the night through without any problems. She rolled over, smiling at the imprint on the sheets beside her. Seven knew that the nature of Spock and her's relationship would never go any deeper, nor would they ever share this type of intimacy ever again. However, the knowledge that he had provided her had opened new door for her to explore. Still deep inside, something hurt. It was irrelevant. * * * Ambassador Spock stopped at the entrance of the door to his quarters. It had been a night full of love making, a night that he would never experience again. It was the stuff that dreams were made off. Spock requested entrance, and he heard the occupant bid him enter. He walked inside. His own face stood on the other side of the room, looking at him. Spock hit a cloaked button on his arm. Shimmering, he changed into his true form. A bald holographic doctor faced the Ambassador. "I don't think she realized once that it was me." The Doctor told Spock. "It was a bit tricky though." "I know, but it was the only way I knew to keep the bonding from deepening. She has to be allowed to mature and develop on her own without the complications a bond might make." Spock replied. Deep inside, under his layers of logic he ached to strengthen the bond. He realized though it would be illogical to do so. There would be no telling what might happen given her Borg nature. It wasn't worth the risk. "I just hope she doesn't ever find out." The Doctor said more to himself than to Spock. Spock nodded. "It won't go any further, Doctor". * * * "Impressive, Ambassador Spock. Your assistance in this matter has been most invaluable." T'Lin, head of the Vulcan Science Academy told him. Spock nodded at the view screen. "I assure you that I found the experience most fascinating. However, it isn't something I would recommend. There could be too many complications, resulting in possible dangerous issues concerning mental health. The Borg's mind could be quite complicated to deal with." T'Lin responded. "I understand. A Vulcan with less ability might have found," he paused for a second as if carefully selecting the next word to use, "the telepathic bond quite disturbing." "That was my conclusion as well. As it is Seven of Nine is highly respectful of one's individuality. With another reclaimed individual one might not be so lucky." Spock replied. T'Lin raised an Eyebrow at Spock euphemism. "I hope your trip back to Romulous is without incident." Spock raised his hand. "Live long and prosper." T'Lin responded in kind. * * * 3 years later.... Headquarters for Black Operations, San Francisco, Planet Earth. Seven of Nine looked up from her computer station as her partner, Kael Dasuke approached. He was the most efficient partner that she could have hoped for, making an effective back up on their two man missions together. Captain Janeway had been nice enough to recommend her for the position, which she excelled at. "Hey, Queenie." Kael called to her. It was the only thing she found the least bit annoying about him, his insistence at calling her Queenie. "I assume that the reason that you are so excited is that we have received orders." Seven replied. Standing to take the PADD that he held. Kael smiled his famous smile. "You were reading my mind, weren't you?" "Who is it or what is it this time?" As much as she loved her job, the orders always appeared at the least opportune moment. Kael indicated that she should read the PADD, but continued talking anyways. "Apparently some important Vulcan Ambassador named Spock got himself abducted by a rebel Romulan group. To complicate things, he has entered the first stages of Pon Farr. Seven could only stand there staring in silence "What did I say Queenie?" Kael knew Seven well enough to know that she was never surprised. "Cat got your tongue?" Fin? Comments, concerns, questions, feedback? Lorre@oregonlegacy.com |