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Heaven & Hell
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ADULT

Title: Heaven & Hell
Author: Ky (venom69)
Fandom: Star Trek: Voyager
Rating: ADULT
Summary: Your mind is a very active place
Character/Pairing: Janeway/Chakotay, Janeway/Paris, Chakotay/Paris, Janeway/f.
Spoilers: None... the show’s ended!
Warnings: Language, adult themes, sex. Contains m/f, f/f, m/m/f. Consider yourself appropriately warned.
Author’s Notes: Song belongs to Evermore. This was written for the VAMB Spring Fling. Many, many thanks to the wonderful [info]bowserbabe and [info]amandal557 for their beta jobs and reassurance.
Disclaimer: Usual guff. Not mine, promise to put them back where I found them.
Date: 15/04/09

***

Request; (From Shayenne.) Surprise me. Here's a list of things I like and things I don't like. Pick over it and let your muse fly. I like: J/C, C/P, J/Borg Queen. I love Chakotay, Tom Paris, the Borg Queen, Tal Celes, crew stories, friendship stories, slash, introspective stories, bittersweet stories, early season stories, stories with a plot, character-centric mood pieces, they do it once stories, subtle humour, warm and happy stories. Any rating. / I'm not so keen on: P/T, Seven, Neelix, overblown angst, stories where J/C are already together. / I really don't like: Babyfic/kidfic/pregfic, tears sliding down Janeway's cheeks, rapefic or excessive violence.

***

What do you want to hear first,
Bad news or the worst?
We're here to entertain
And anesthetise your pain

***

Kathryn tried not to think about much of anything as the layers of clothing were stripped from her body. She didn't know what she was wearing - not that it actually mattered - but she could feel the material brushing against her skin as it fell from her body. She knew that she was naked, but she didn't care.

Hands wandered across the expanse of her stomach; touching, tickling, judging. But she didn't feel self-conscious; she felt beautiful, wanted, adored. The hands traced over her thighs, nonsensical patterns that left her shivering and wanting.

The room was neither cool nor hot - the core temperature of her body increased only with the movements of the hands on her skin, not the conditions of the room. She didn't know where she was, nor did she know who the other participant was, but she found herself thrusting her hips forward, shameless and uncaring. Her body cried out for something and her unknown lover seemed inclined to provide.

It was like she'd closed her eyes against the world, only she knew that she hadn't. She could feel her body, was aware of it, but at the same time she wasn't. She knew that she was somewhere, except she wasn't. She wasn't anywhere. The hands were on her body, only they weren't.

"Your mind is a very active place."

She was hearing voices, too?

"I aim to please."

And she was answering them.

If she'd been able to, Kathryn would've shaken her head and decided that she was going nuts(er). Instead, she pushed her chest forward and offered her nipple to the suckling mouth that caressed her.

"It has many secrets to share."

The voice was feminine and metallic. And then it was masculine and harsh. Then childish and wondrous. In short, she didn't know what she was hearing. She wasn't really certain what she was feeling, either.

The mouth on her breast nipped and pulled, teased and tasted. Kathryn made a little sound in the back of her throat; surrender and satisfaction.

There was a hand between her thighs, pushing, teasing, feeling. She moved with it, against it, for it. She did as she was told, despite the lack of words that came from her companion. She did everything she should and everything she shouldn't, though she couldn't quite understand the connotations behind either action at that time. The juxtaposition should have given her a headache; instead, it added to the slick heat her body offered.

She felt the sharp touch to her clit, the jolt of electricity. She felt the flood of wetness from her body, the surrender that came in the form of slickness and sin. She cried out, no names, no declarations of worship to either a deity or the hands of her lover, just a long cry that stole her breath and her mind as her body trembled from the force of the feelings. She was no longer being touched or caressed, no loving hands to bring her back to sanity; just emptiness.

Light flooded the room and Kathryn found herself coming down from her orgasm, staring at the satisfied eyes of the Borg Queen.

***

When Kathryn opened her eyes, she knew what had happened.

Her body was still humming and she could feel the tell-tale dampness between her thighs. Her nipples were tight and sore from the rough man-handling she'd felt, even if it hadn't been real. Or had it? She didn't know. She did wonder if she had really cried out or not, but decided that someone would have come to check on her if that had been the case.

Her hands were shaking as she brought them up to rub at her temples, the dim light of sickbay making her blink slowly before she could see properly. Her body continued to ache, a mixture of pain from her recent escapades as a Drone and pleasure as its tendrils still held her in their grasp. She tried to remember the lover from her dreams, but nothing came to the surface of her mind. She couldn't even fathom why her traitorous body had allowed her release in sickbay, of all places. Weren't wet dreams more of a male thing, anyway?

She fought to control her breathing, if only so none of the monitors went off and alerted anyone to her current status.

Her mind raced, repulsion and desire fighting a war within her otherwise quiet mind. They'd only been Drones for a short time - relatively speaking - but Kathryn found that she almost missed the sound of millions in her mind. It was quiet to be alone in her own head again, especially when her own brain left her with little but the knowledge that she'd just had a really great dream.

Forcing her body into a sitting position, she tried to muster the energy to rise form the bed and use the facilities nearby. She felt like she had what Phoebe had affectionately named 'fuck face' and she didn't want to greet anyone with a red face and racing pulse. But, as she tried to stand, she realized very quickly that she was going to need a helping hand to get there.

"Captain?" Kathryn blanched a little when she heard the voice. Fighting the wave of pain that had gripped her and opening her eyes, she saw Tal Celes standing by her bed, a mug and a PADD in her hands. "Commander Chakotay asked me to bring these to you."

She tried wholeheartedly to look like she hadn't just had one of the best orgasms of her life, asleep or not. "Did he send you with herbal tea?"

"Coffee, ma'am." Celes smiled a little. "He said you'd probably throw the cup at me if it was tea."

"He's a smart man." Kathryn couldn't help but smile in return, but it turned into a wince as she tried again to pull herself into a sitting position.

Celes didn't say a word. She put the PADD and the cup on the tray by the biobed and moved to help Kathryn as best as she could.

Kathryn didn't cry out as she was moved. Her body was sore from the surgeries and the general experience, but she was going to keep her famed stiff upper lip if it killed her. Once she was sitting up in bed, she let the wave of dizziness pass in silence.

Celes waited, patiently. "Do you need anything else, ma'am?"

She didn't really want to ask, but she figured that the young woman was more inclined to remain silent about whatever observations she may or may not have made, whereas the Doctor would come with a tricorder and Kathryn didn't feel like answering questions about her endorphin levels or her heart rate. "Actually, yes."

It was a mission of epic proportions given her current state of well-being, but Celes managed to help her to the bathroom without fanfare. She waited outside the door while Kathryn took care of business, before helping her back to bed. The young woman smiled gently and offered her services if Kathryn needed anything else, before she left for her shift in Astrometrics.

Kathryn read over the PADD - a rather lengthy status report after their half idiotic and half brilliant mission - and sipped at her coffee.

When Seven entered, she looked up from the report and raised an eyebrow, not bothering with a greeting.

"General Korok is finished with his repairs. He's already been contacted by another Borg vessel in the region. It's also under the control of former drones."

Kathryn tried to move into a more presentable position, but she winced again and gave up rather quickly. "The Doctor removed my spinal clamps but it'll be a while before I'm playing hoverball again." She sighed. "If I ever imply it's been easy on you these last few years, remind me about today."

Seven didn't get the nuances of the statement, but that didn't really matter. "Noted."

Kathryn tapped the PADD in her hand. "Well, Unimatrix Zero may be gone but it looks like the resistance is alive and kicking. With any luck, the Collective may never be the same."

"Korok said he would try to maintain contact, keep us informed."

She nodded. "Have you heard from your friend?"

The friendship - romance - between Seven and her 'recruiter' had left Kathryn both intrigued and sympathetic. She couldn't even imagine what the young woman had gone through, not that Seven was likely to admit it was anything resembling an ordeal.

"No, but I don't expect to. Axum's vessel is in a remote sector of the Beta quadrant." She paused. "If I ever imply that he was nothing more than a friend, remind me about today."

Kathryn offered a sympathetic smile. "Mind if I ask you something?" Seven didn't respond, but the slight nod she gave offered permission. "How long did it take for you to stop constantly thinking about the Borg, your recent experiences notwithstanding?"

She remembered the incident with The Raven and Seven's parents, the subtle mention of little things over the months, but the young woman didn't often discuss her waking thoughts with Kathryn.

It wasn’t so much that the memories were bothering her, per se, more so that she felt like she’d lost control of her mind. She wasn’t remembering things that she normally would have – namely, dreams – but when she considered that her waking moments were generally occupied with thoughts of pain and machines and steel voices, Kathryn couldn’t help but suppose that it was to be expected.

Which didn’t make her feel better.

"A number of months." Crap! "However, I was Borg for most of my life."

"Point taken."

"The Doctor offered me literature on something called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Perhaps it would be prudent for you to read some of the same material."

Kathryn nodded, her mind already wandering over what little she could recall of her dream. "Thanks for the tip."

***

She was looking into Chakotay's eyes.

Except she knew that they weren't really his; she and Chakotay had a long history together, friendship and - loathe as she was to admit it in the waking world - love. When she looked into his eyes, normally, she could see a plethora of thoughts and feelings there. She could read his dark eyes like a book and, annoying though it could be at times, it was now her deciding factor that she wasn't facing the real Chakotay. Now, all she saw was detached curiosity in his face as he stared over her nudity.

Kathryn had imagined this moment many times before and never in her fantasies had he looked at her so coldly as she offered herself to him. Though she was fairly certain she hadn't offered herself.

She didn't know how she'd found herself here - wherever 'here' happened to be - standing naked with her equally naked First Officer. A large part of her rejected the idea and the situation, screaming at her to run as far and as fast as she could. But her legs wouldn't work and the mental chanting to get the hell out of there was being ignored, it seemed.

Was this her insanity continued? Or was she being affected by something? Was she just drinking too much coffee before bed?

She didn't know much of anything.

Analytically, she looked over her companion, noting the colour of his skin, the plains of his chest, the size of his penis. She eyed the erection with an odd mixture of fear and lust, uncertainty pulsing through her.

She knew this wasn't him, but she wasn't sure she'd be able to say 'no', either.

What the hell was going on?

"Your mind is a very active place."

She’d heard that before.

It hadn’t been Chakotay, then, it had been someone else – and she couldn’t quite remember much of that encounter – but she knew that the words sparked something within her. Still, she ignored the question, intent on searching through her own memories, agitation beginning to take over when she found herself unable to recall anything of use.

"What is your weakness?"

Kathryn continued to stare, trying to see beyond the familiar features in front of her, her mind racing.

His face hardened. "What is your weakness?"

"Coffee."

He - she? it? them? ….what? - didn't seem pleased by her answer and a frown marred the face before her.

"A personal weakness is of no use."

"I have no other."

Unless he counted baths.

But Chakotay - her Chakotay - would have known that already. He had spent too much time building her a bathtub to not remember that. He knew about the wood creation that sat in Cargo Bay 1. He didn't need to ask.

Distracted by the thoughts, she almost missed him moving. The large hands of her XO reached out to touch her. It was innocent at first, skimming down her arm, across her collar bone, over the prominent bones of her hips. But then it wasn't innocent, the hands were forceful, pushing and pulling her, manipulating her body with an ease that should have frightened her.

She didn't resist, moving as he directed, letting him take charge. She did not own this body anymore; she merely followed its lead. He pulled her to the floor, manoeuvring her until she was straddling his hips. The blunt head of his penis pushed between her folds, moving through her moisture, pressing against her clit, forcing her body to shake and shudder as pleasure and promise screamed through her veins.

It shouldn’t have been that easy; she was slick and aroused, tightly wound with want.

But this wasn’t how it should have been; she was too confused, too shell-shocked by whatever tricks her mind was playing on her to truly be ready for him. It had been a long time and he wasn’t a small man – even if it wasn’t really him. Kathryn felt the confusion fight within her, battling against the desire that she couldn’t stop pulsing through her body.

God, it was him.

The dark eyes didn't leave her face as he grasped her hips and forced her downwards until his entire length was deep inside of her, pushing against the neck of her womb. It was uncomfortable and painful and blissful and amazing all at once.

She felt like she was dying and being reborn all at once. Every thought and feeling that she shouldn’t, couldn’t, normally have slammed through her, joining the racing of her heart and blood. Her body stretched easily over his fat cock, opening and welcoming. They fit perfectly, as though they should have been this way all along.

They probably should have, the last bit of sanity she possessed whispered.

How can we live without this? Her nerve endings agreed.

It was too good; it meant too much; she felt too much. She wasn’t going to be able to recover from this; she wouldn’t be able to be without him after this.

The man beneath her pushed upwards, sheathing himself just that fraction further into her and she whimpered her surrender. "What is your weakness?"

Kathryn gasped as his strong hands encouraged her to move. "You."

***

Kathryn stared at the ceiling, her mind a whirl of activity, her body humming once more.

She knew that it - her oddly erotic but apparently unmemorable dreams - had happened again. Her body told her, quite clearly, that it had been another good one. But no one had come running to find out if she was having any kind of seizure and she was, once again, left wondering if the dream had actually happened or if she was just so deprived that the inactivity of recovery had left her imagination to run wild. Was her body really so desperate that it would fall to pieces with or without actual stimulation? Or was she moving in her sleep?

She almost didn’t want to know.

Looking to the left, she could see B'Elanna sleeping soundly. Tuvok was in the isolation bay, his injuries requiring more attention than the women of the away team. They’d been back for forty-eight hours and all three of them had undergone as much surgery as they could to reverse the assimilation. She looked human, was human, but she still felt like her mind was elsewhere.

Kathryn had written her report of the mission before she'd gone to sleep, but even writing the thoughts down hadn't purged her memory. Nor had the odd little reminders; the flash of memory, a scent, the faint echo of a distant voice that only she could hear.

No wonder she was going bonkers.

With all the subtlety of a malfunctioning cargo ship with a warp core leak, Seven had sent her some information on PTSD. Kathryn had skimmed through some of it - a lot of it she'd known from past experience - but she hadn't been able to honestly attribute her mind's nightly activities to bad memories.

Sighing, she wondered if she was simply going insane.

…Or was already there.

"Everything okay?" Tom was beside her bed, checking the readings on the monitor above her head.

She was tempted to ask him to check the logs from the night, but she didn't particularly want to share her reasons for asking with him. Nor did she want to explain, to him of all people, the strange readings he could well have found. Her mind boggled just imagining what he would think of the potential pot of gossip gold there. "Just thinking."

"It can be a dangerous past time."

The Doctor joined them at her bedside. "How are you feeling, Captain?"

"Fine." For the most part, she felt like someone recovering from far too much surgery. But on the other hand... "I was wondering, have B'Elanna or Tuvok experienced any... mental side effects from the mission?"

Tom and the Doctor exchanged what could only be described as a 'look' of significance. The Doctor spoke, "How so?"

"Just..." she shrugged, and that hurt far more than it should have. "...anything."

The Doctor folded his arms and 'hmmm'ed'. "Are you experience anything odd, Captain?"

"I was assimilated and de-assimilated in the space of a day. Want to ask a different question?" She was pissy, but only because her caffeine intake had been lowered to three cups a day by a team of her more stubborn, but nameless, crew. That and the fact that she may well have been losing her marbles.

"Are you experiencing any symptoms from the last few days that we hadn't anticipated?"

That was better. "Yes."

"Would you care to elaborate?"

She didn't know enough to elaborate. And she didn’t particularly want to share what little she did know at this point in time. "No."

"But you'd like me to treat you anyway?"

"Yes."

The hologram looked at her like she had three heads. "How?"

"I don't know." She sighed and, if only to herself, had to admit that she couldn't give him much to go on. "Perhaps a cortical monitor?"

The Doctor held a dramatic hand to his chest, his mouth open in shock. "Are you volunteering for a medical procedure, Captain?"

Kathryn wondered if glaring from this position was just as effective as normal. "I might be flat on my back now, but let me remind you that I will be on my feet soon enough and I can have you taken offline. Permanently."

Apparently it was.

The Doctor moved away, muttering something about 'tempers' and 'redheads' that she couldn't quite hear. She watched him as he moved to retrieve a monitor, before programming it.

Tom, who had remained silent throughout the Captain/Doctor verbal tennis match, smiled gently as he looked down at her. "Just because you're paranoid, doesn't mean they aren't out to get you."

***

One set of lips was attached to her neck, sucking and biting and doing all sorts of deliciously wicked damage to her pale skin. Another set was leaving a similar mark on her lower belly. They were both tender and domineering. Love and lust.

Heaven and Hell.

Kathryn stood, nude, letting the lips do their worst. She gasped as they left their marks and she panted when they whispered into her skin, words that she couldn’t comprehend but didn’t really want to, anyway. Several long moments went by – at least, she thought they did – before hands joined the mix, sliding along her skin.

She was wet; with perspiration and desire.

Her eyes were closed - at least, she was fairly certain they were - but it only heightened the sensations. She knew that the solid chest against her back would keep her upright if her knees buckled, a fate that was almost a certainty as the lips on her belly moved lower, sliding easily over her slick skin.

Her breasts were being cupped, held securely in warm flesh, kneading and tormenting her. She felt two strong hands pulling her thighs apart, making her stand with her legs spread, offering her sex to the teeth and tongue that were heading that way. Slowly, so slowly, the lips moved over the mound of her crotch, dipping downwards to where she wanted them most. She knew where they were going but she still gasped at the first touch, anyway.

When she forced her eyes opened and looked down over the slope of her breasts, held by two dark hands, she was almost - but not quite - surprised to see none other than the baby blues of Tom Paris looking back at her. His eyes contained mischief, but she didn't much care as he worked over her clit with ferocity.

She turned her head to the side and confirmed what she'd already known about the identity of her second lover; Chakotay. He grinned at her, baring his teeth. She thought of a cave man looking satisfied with the mate he had caught.

That was what she was; their mate.

But not, as well.

Tom feasted on her; teasing and tasting and fulfilling his fantasies. How many times had he taken a holographic lover – or a shipmate, for that matter – and worked over their wet flesh and imagined it was the Captain he was servicing? How many times had he stroked himself to oblivion while imagining his superior on her knees, bent over for him, spread open, wanting him.

The man at her back, though… no, he was different. He bared his teeth, bared his soul, made her feel like little more than the current object of his affection – and she loved it, damn her – but her cherished her, too. He did this for her, not to fulfil his late night desires. He suckled at her neck, just so, just the way she liked it. She didn’t know how he knew that, but it didn’t matter. Her worshipped her, soothed her, loved her.

He made her want him.

Chakotay moved one hand from her breast to grasp his penis, moving from the cradle of her buttocks to tease the spongy tissue of her opening. He let her relax, let the spell of desire take over her, before he pushed into her tight body with a powerful thrust. The love from his touch faded as need took over him. She knew that he loved her, even now, even though it probably wasn’t the real him, but right now he was going to fuck her and that was all that mattered.

Tom continued to work her clit, sucking and biting, his tongue dipping lower to tease around where she was stretched on Chakotay’s thick cock. One of Tom’s hands moved to hold her steady by the hip, keeping her sex tilted towards his talented mouth, the other moved to the minimal space between her body and Chakotay's. Kathryn thought that his eyes would have looked over the joined bodies before him, savouring the intimate scene with intent lust… that was, had he not been so interested in tasting them.

His talented mouth kept her well distracted, sucking noisily and sending her mad. Almost surprisingly, but perhaps not at the same time, she felt him probing her other entrance and she tensed automatically, but couldn't stop the finger he pushed inside. As Chakotay continued to thrust into her, his groan matched hers when Tom’s tongue encountered their joined flesh.

Logically she was aware that it should have hurt - all of it, really, given her general state of celibacy - but none of it did. She felt only abject pleasure as it raced through her and she knew that she was going to come really, really soon and it was going to be horridly wonderful.

"Your mind is a very active place."

Kathryn didn't quite hear what one - or both? - of them said to her. She was too busy being focussed on the pleasure that screamed through her body, blocking out what little sanity she had left.

"You will tell me what I want to know."

"I don't know what that is." Her voice was breathy, the heady desire more than evident. She didn't sound like herself; she sounded like some kind of Orion sex goddess. She felt like one, too, being worshipped and cherished and used by these two men.

"You will tell me."

Chakotay thrust a few more times before he pulled out of her wanton body and she cried out with displeasure. Tom didn't let his movements waiver, though, even as Chakotay forced Kathryn to lower until she was resting on the ground. Tom moved with her, until his face was buried between her thighs and his ass was in the air. Tom’s finger remained sheathed inside of her and she found herself moving on his hand, anticipation fighting with the arousal inside of her.

Kathryn knew what was about to happen even before Chakotay moved behind the young man. Apparently her lubrication was to serve as the only aid as Chakotay moved into position. Briefly, she considered the logistics of this whole encounter - her size difference being the most notable - and she was well aware that, in the real world, very little of this would have worked. But that didn’t matter so much right now.

Watching Tom's eyes, she wondered why this wasn't hurting him, but she found herself quite unable to care. She watched, utterly and equally fascinated and turned on, as Chakotay pushed his hips forward until he was buried balls-deep in the younger man beneath him.

Kathryn felt her breath hitch. She could feel what Tom was feeling. Chakotay could have been thrusting into her ass for the way she felt the sensations wash over her. The blonde groaned his appreciation of Chakotay into Kathryn's cunt and she cried out with him as she lost ability to form coherent thought.

***

"Did you find anything, Doctor?"

The Doctor 'hmm'ed' a lot, as he often did, while scanning the readouts of her overnight monitor.

Kathryn waited, with some manner of patience, wondering what the explanation would be. Last night had been her third night in sickbay and, barring any complications with her readings, the Doctor had hinted at letting her go back to her quarters. She was both eager and mildly terrified; would her body be more... exploratory with these apparently wonderful dreams if she was alone? Or would it make little difference to her seemingly sex-starved brain?

She wondered, not for the first time, if she was just nuts.

Finally, after several ridiculously long moments, the Doctor turned his attention to Kathryn as she sat on the edge of the biobed. "Captain, your mind is a very active place."

Everything slammed into her at once; the memories, the feelings, the encounters. She remembered them all in every little detail. She heard everything that had happened, she saw it all. Hell, she could smell the encounters. Words floated through her head, screams and sighs echoed through her brain and made it difficult to think. The smell of sex lingered in the back of her throat and it didn’t help her ability to breathe.

She knew, without doubt, what had happened.

Kathryn thought she was hyperventilating for a moment, and then she thought her heart would burst if it beat any faster. She felt as though her pulse would leap from her body and sweat began to pour from her.

She knew.

She found herself speaking without order from her mind; the words fell from her mouth even as the thoughts were barely formed. "The Borg Queen has a link to her collective."

If the Doctor looked confused, Kathryn took no note. "Correct."

"She had a link to the away team while we were Borg." Normally, it would feel weird to refer to herself as a Borg but, given the last few nights, not much felt normal right now anyway. "She had a link to me."

"Yes, but I-"

"How long would that link last?" Kathryn finally forced herself to actually take note of the Doctor and she could almost see the awareness dawning on his face.

"Captain, do you really think that the Borg Queen would-"

"Yes."

"Are you certain?"

The Queen dipped her head, clammy lips touching against the skin of Kathryn's thigh. She nipped a path across the soft skin, marking her helpless captive as she went. Cool air blew across the warm centre between Kathryn's thighs, tickling and teasing.

The Queen touched her lips to Kathryn's clit, a light tickle that wasn't quite enough to provide stimulation, but certainly enough to gain her prey's interest. "You have a very active mind, Kathryn."

Kathryn wanted to fight, wanted to protest, but she couldn't. She wasn't bound by anything other than her own body and its desires. The Queen's mouth felt too good,
was too good, and she didn’t want to move. She surrendered herself, mind, body and spirit, knowing with certainty that she would not remember this later.

Except she did remember now.

The Doctor stared at her as she sat in silence, concern on his face. When he spoke, she knew that it wasn’t the first time he’d tried to gain her attention. “Captain, are you certain?”

"Yes."

The Doctor scanned her again, shaking his head. "There's no evidence to support a link between you and the collective." He snapped the tricorder shut. "My readings from last night show that you did in fact reach REM sleep, which was how we were able to discern that Seven's encounter with Unimatrix Zero wasn't simply a dream."

"Your readings also show heightened sexual arousal, correct?" She should have been embarrassed, but she was beyond that now.

"Yes, but that could be-"

"That was the interrogation. The Queen wanted information and she manipulated my... dreams, I suppose, in order to do that." Kathryn couldn’t help but wonder if the dreams she’d experienced had been a manipulation of the world her own mind created as she slumbered or if the Queen had instigated everything.

She couldn’t help but wonder if it really made a difference either way.

The Doctor paused, obviously processing her theory. "Our proximity to Korok's vessel and the central plexus on board could have enhanced any potential link."

"Korok left this region two days ago." The scientist in her argued the point. She wasn’t sure what she’d rather; that it be the handiwork of her latest nemesis, or the handiwork of her sex-starved brain. Or an odd combination of the both, for that matter.

The Doctor didn’t seem perturbed. "And you're now remembering the dreams."

So the link was fading. She didn’t have a retort for that. "I think it would be wise to keep me away from anything sensitive to Voyager until we're certain that the link is gone."

"Captain, with all due respect, the Queen has had the opportunity to invade your mind for three nights now. Whatever she wanted to know, she probably already does."

He had a point. Shit. "How long do you think the link will last?"

"We have no way of knowing that."

"We should get on our way." Voyager had been stationary for several days, while Unimatrix Zero had been dealt with and subsequent repairs conducted. "This region of space may be helping the link hold."

"Agreed."

"I'll inform the Bridge."

He nodded. "I suggest taking the remainder of the evening off, Captain."

Though he hadn’t actually cleared her for active duty, or even light duty, yet anyway, Kathryn raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Well, you've been through quite the... ordeal."

Huh. If only he knew. Her body tingled in memory. "Thank you for the suggestion, Doctor."

She wasn't particularly looking forward to going to sleep. On the other hand, she really was - if only so curiosity could prevail and she could find out how kinky the Borg Queen really could be - but she wasn't quite sure it was a wise idea. The cynical part of her mind thought it mightily unfair that she'd finally gotten some - thrice - and yet she till didn't actually get any.

As she left sickbay, Kathryn decided that she'd find Chakotay and see if he was interested in an all-night conversation. If nothing else, the look on his face when she explained why she didn't want to sleep would keep her entertained for days.

Or keep her limping for a week, if she was lucky.

***

Somewhere, several thousand light-years away, the Borg Queen waited, smiling.

***

End

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