Games

By Ghostreader

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the STV characters, and to be honest I wouldn't want too, this is my version of the characters an as such no copyright infringement is intended. Star Trek Voyager and all who sail in her belong to Paramount/Viacom. This story includes same sex relationships between women. If you are offended by this or it is illegal where you live or you are under age then please read no further.

Code: T/7.
Rating: PG13

Archiving: For archive anywhere, just drop me an e-mail request.

Comments and criticism welcome, hey it's the only way to learn… drop us a line at reader_ghost@hotmail.com if you're in the mood, but no hate mail please.

Any feedback or other comments should be sent to reader_ghost@hotmail.com

Description: This is my first ST: V story and only my second ever fan fiction story so please be kind. The story doesn't specifically follow the show's timeline or plot lines so there are no real spoilers to speak of.
This is just an idea I had lurking, and I've liked a lot of the T/7 & J/7 stuff I've read so much I decided to have a crack at it, but expect no miracles or sequels, this was just my take on a possible reality for the characters.
Please note, all medical and scientific explanations are a product of my uneducated mind, I hope they don't distract anyone by being too terribly wrong. So apologies for all (and there will be many) inaccuracies.
This a 12/ 15, UK rating, it's a tad more graphic than the show and (like the show) involves a m/f relationship (P/T I defend Tom Paris as a character (too a point) so no I won't be nasty to him. I stick by my belief that's he's a generally good-natured idiot rather than a callous egotistical jerk.). Also featured is a f/f relationship (Because there really should have been more here regardless of your chosen couple) Mine is J/7, but stick with it, everything is about to change...

Chapter 1

21 Dec 2001

Death plays chess. Fate plays dice. What isn't widely known is that Angels play Poker.

She sat quietly, surveying the other three players at the table, two black spiralled backed cards lay face down in front of each player, three cards face up in front of the dealer. The eight of hearts, each heart deep red and almost three-dimensional, somehow mocking in its elegance and beauty. The King of clubs his dark goatee beard setting off a sneer that marked the figure as a dark scoundrel, a comic villain. Lastly the Ten of diamonds, not crudely shaded in red or orange, but instead each coated in sparkling varnish that caught the light and shone up reflecting against the metal that adorned each player, on chains, buttons or other ornamentation.

The real life scoundrel, wearing a platinum chain seemed nervous, his hands drummed relentlessly on the uppermost of his cards, staring intently at the deck as if willing his luck to change. His pile of chips was the smallest.

Next to him sat a fresh-faced young looking man, his pile of chips was only slightly bigger. Still he didn't fidget, his hands were clasped together in front of him, a worn Fedora pulled down to obscure his eyes and the innocence that might betray him.

Opposite sat a middle-aged man, middle aged in the way that some people are born that way. His age was immaterial it was his fussy manner, his smug smile and innate sense of self-confidence that marked him, he stared at each player in turn, before stopping to reassure himself that his hand was as good as he remembered.

"I'll raise one hundred" the angel spoke distinctly.

I'll match you and raise another twenty" The middle-aged player straightened his already impeccably placed tie.

"Too rich for me" the scoundrel looked petulant, turning his cards face up and throwing them disgustedly at the dealer. A two of clubs and a seven of realistically shaped spades were revealed.

"I'll live to fight another day," said the boyish young man as he too revealed his cards, a neatly aligned four of hearts and a six of diamonds, then them slid across the table calmly.

"I will 'see' you" the lanky woman declared, placing the rest of her chips in the centre, she lifted her card from the table but held them in such away that they were still concealed from the other player's views.

The bald gentleman nodded his ascent, and thrust his chips into the centre as well. The dealer turned the last three cards. A King of Diamonds, resplendent in white robes. A nine of diamonds, glittering in the subdued lounge light and a four of spades, arranged in a central cross.

"Ha!, Full House." He said, revealing the King of Spades, his hands worn by labour as reached out to the edge of the card and an understated eight of clubs, with slightest of red tinges on each on each of the studded wooden clubs.

The angel smiled, her face stretched wide as a single golden wave laid down the side of her face, "Royal Straight" and she tilted her hand displaying a Queen of Diamonds, looking almost as striking as her and a Jack of Diamonds grinning mischievously.

"Damn Seven, that's the third hand in a row!" Tom sulked, drinking deeply from his tankard, "I give up, I'm going home too my wife."

"We should all be so lucky" smirked Harry

"Hey get your own" sniped Tom as he wrapped his arm round Harry's shoulders and slapped him across the back of the head. Harry winced than clambered to his feet, resetting his hat and brushing some non-existent dirt off his double breasted deep brown suit, "I think I'll head home too, ma'am" he quirked an eyebrow at Seven and headed for the emerging holodeck doors.

"Yes well" mumbled the Doctor, "The best machine and all…" then he vanished, his matrix transferring back to the Sick Bay.

Seven smiled, "Computer end program" she gathered up the stack of holodeck rations she had won just as the table they were resting on vanished, as did the rest of the 1920's saloon lounge in which they had been playing.

Striding purposefully towards the turbolift, Seven affected aloof disinterest in the attention she was attracting. Still she was not immune to the veiled looks of lust and envy she was attracting. Her dress left her shoulders bare and fell in straight lines until it reached the floor, but was slit almost to the top of her thigh, Black silk flowed, for once hinting at rather than parading her curves, somehow she looked all the more attractive. Grey lace trimmed the edges of the dress, thin and delicate, breaking the harsh lines of the fabric and giving it more warmth than one material alone.

She reached the bridge, stepping out of the lift with just a little more movement to highlight the swaying of her dress than actually required; the gamma shift gawked, and then ducked their heads embarrassed. Seven hit the chime on the Ready Room door and strode in. Captain Janeway looked up from her book and lay it down on the couch next to her. She beckoned Seven over to the sofa, grinning slightly.

"Well I think I'll forgive your entrance based on that dress. You look stunning Seven."

"Thank you Captain, I am pleased to see that you also look relaxed." Indeed the Captain did, wearing a calf length navy blue dress with small crossed straps holding the dress over slim shoulders and disappearing under shoulder length auburn hair

"Are you ready?" she asked rising gracefully to her feet and extending her arm.

"Indeed, I believe I have secured all the rations we will need Kathryn." Seven grinned for the second time that night, but where the first had been a triumphant declaration, this smile was a gentle invitation as she extended her own arm out to thread through the Captain's.

Kathryn grinned in return, her eyes sparkling with mischief and intent and the two headed back for the holodeck.

To be continued....