Disclaimer: The ST:Voyager characters belong to Paramount/Viacom. I have no rights to anything apart from those characters and worlds which are my own invention. This story is written to entertain and to see if I could do it. It is done entirely for fun and not for profit.
Code: T/7.
Rating: PG
Archiving: Please ask first
Constructive feedback welcome.
Any feedback or other comments should be sent to melvee@ngi.de
Description: I've been on this little for some months now and truely enjoy all your wonderful stories. As opposed to most J/7 stories I feel Seven is always more "in character" when with B'Elanna than with Janeway. But then again, having someone stay in character is a difficult thing to do. That's where the challenge comes in. I've been toying for months with a story where Seven and Torres play practical jokes on each other. But a borg playing a practical joke? Whoever heard of such a thing?
A practical joke challenge ...
18 April 2001
Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres, Chief Engineer of the Federation Starship Voyager, was a woman who loved perfection. Not that one would think that, seeing how messy her quarters usually were but there was just something about a starship functioning at peak efficiency that left her feeling proud and profoundly happy. Not that there ever was a chance of this happening with being in the Delta quadrant and all. Attacked every other day, with no real ressources to speak of. But there were those odd days in between when everything seemed to be running smoothly. When there was no major crisis to deal with and one had the extra time to improve even the remotest and rarely used systems. A chance at that one moment of happiness. Today was one of these days. The engines were running perfectly. The holodeck had no malfunction. Transporters and replicators were online and doing their job. Even the turbolifts hadn't gotten stuck in days. After having worked all day and well into the gamma shift, B'Elanna was tired but closer to her goal. If she could only find that one last glitch in the power relay, it would...
"Seven of Nine to Lieutenant Torres."
'What the ...' B'Elanna briefly closed her eyes. "Torres here."
"Lieutenant, I require your assistance in astrometrics."
That voice again. How B'Elanna hated that voice. That borg voice. The one that brooked no argument. But Torres wasn't about to give in. "Seven, can't this wait. I'm in the middle of repairs here."
"You are... in the middle of Jeffries tube 34 and I am not aware of any malfunction in that particular section of the ship."
"Well I am and the last time I checked 'I' was Chief Engineer onboard Voyager."
There was a slight pause which gave B'Elanna time to consider if this time she had actually 'won' one of their arguments.
"Very well, Lieutenant. Then I will attempt to make the necessary changes in astrometrics myself."
'Oh, no you don't!' "Hold that, Seven. I'm on my way. Torres out."
Lost again. She knew it was impossible but B'Elanna could have sworn she heard Seven's occular implant raise in victory over the dying come link. 'Borg. Can't live with them, can't toss them out the airlock either.' Still muttering under her breath, she started to crawl back down the Jeffries tube. 'There goes another chance at perfection.'
*
"A light bulb?! - You dragged me here in the middle of the night to change a lightbulb?"
Furious didn't even come close to what B'Elanna was feeling.
"I hardly 'dragged' you, Lieutenant, I merely asked. And I fail to see what an ancient lighting device has to do with the current situation."
"Yeah, do you? Well, let me get this straight, Borg. You. Called. Me. At..." Not wanting to ask the computer for the time, B'Elanna made an educated guess. "... 0200 hours in the morning to reroute power from the illumination output in astrometrics in order to modify the luminence of the spectral variance because it interferes with your occular implant while working on the astrometrics charts?"
"That is correct, Lieutenant."
"And you couldn't do it yourself because...?"
Seven merely raised said implant, hating to repeat herself. "I 'could' have done it myself. But after our last... disagreement, the captain advised me not to take it upon myself to make any changes to the ships system without consulting you first." 'I should have seen this coming. Borg, always taking everything literally.' B'Elanna yawned. "I'm too tired for this."
Not being in the mood for another fight with the statuesque blonde, she simply turned and headed for the doors.
"Lieutenant, what about my modifications?"
B'Elanna stopped and smirked. If it wouldn't have been impossible she could have sworn she heard a whine in Seven's voice.
"Computer. Lights... off."
And with that she left astrometrics, leaving one frustrated ex-borg in the dark.
*
"I can't take this any more."
"Oh, come on, B'Elanna. It's not that bad." Tom Paris grinned while patting the head of one extremely irritated and slumped over Chief Engineer, he and Ensign Kim were just having breakfast with in the mess hall.
"No, I mean it, Tom. If she calls me one more time, I'm going to kill her."
Even Harry couldn't contain his laughter while watching one of his closest friends pounding her head in frustration against the table they were sitting at. "You asked for it, B'Elanna." He chimed in happily. "Practically begging the captain to tell Seven not to interfere with engineering any more."
"I did not beg!" A very indignant Lieutenant sat up straight and growled at her friends who were howling with laughter. "I simply wanted her to stop messing around with MY ship, not having me at her back and call whenever she wants to push a button."
"Well, you should have known, Seven would take you literally." Tom kept on grinning. Since he and the fiery Lieutenant had called off the wedding, they actually got along just fine, being better suited as friends than lovers. He could even go back to teasing her without having his head bitten off.
"Not like that, I couldn't..." B'Elanna pouted. She hated to admit it, but even she started to see the humour of the situation. "If I only could get back at her..."
"Now, there's the spirit." Tom smiled. "Why don't you make life a little more interesting for the Ice Queen?"
"How do you mean that?" Harry looked a little concerned. Even if he sympathized with B'Elanna he still felt a bit protective of Seven, after the major crush he had had on her.
"Relax, Harry. I'm not talking about Klingon pain sticks." He turned back to his ex-lover. "I thought more a long the lines of a practical joke. Mess a little with Miss Perfection's toys for a change."
"Mmmm." B'Elanna stared at him briefly and then gazed off, seemingly lost in thought.
"I don't think that's such a good idea, Tom." Harry didn't like his friend's suggestion one bit. "As far as we know, Seven hasn't even got a sense of humour and we all know how funny 'your' jokes can be. That could seriously hurt her feelings."
"Feelings?" Paris laughed. "Since when does that borg have feelings? Come on, Harry. She's been torturing B'Elanna for weeks now. Don't you think it's pay back time?" "I'd rather we talked to her. Explain the situation. She'll see reason." Harry offered.
"B'Elanna tried reason. That's why she's in this mess." Tom shook his head. "No, I'd say we interfere with her perfection for a change, see if we can't shake up that little logic world of hers for once."
"I don't know." Harry still wasn't convinced. He turned to B'Elanna for advice. "Hey, Marquis, what do you...? - Where is she?"
Both Ensigns turned only to see the Lieutenant leave the mess hall in a very determined stride.
"That's my girl." Paris announced proudly, drinking up the rest of his now cold coffee. "I bet she already has a plan."
"Tom?"
"Yeah?"
"She's not your girl anymore." Harry commented with a smirk.
"You just had to remind me, didn't you?"
"Yup."
*
"Regeneration cycle complete."
Seven opened her eyes in confusion. Something was wrong. Stepping down the platform she went over to the access console of her regeneration chamber. After typing in a few commands, her brow frowned almost undetectably. Repeating the commands and extending the search algorithms, the console screen started flashing masses of data streams until one touch of the blonde's slender fingers brought the output to a halt. Seven's eyes widened slightly. To the unperceptive observer she appeared as cool and collected as ever. But to everyone who knew her better - not that there was anyone except the captain or the doctor maybe - one clearly irritated borg was plain to see.
*
The doors to sickbay swooshed open, activating one sometimes annoying if terribly proficient emergency medical hologram.
"State the nature of your... Seven!"
Seven of Nine came to a halt in front of the only person she felt was as unaccustomed to human behaviour as she was. "Doctor, can I speak to you for a moment?"
"Of course, Seven. Always willing to lend an ear." For a hologram just being activated the doctor was in a rare mood. Seven merely raised her implant.
"When I finished my regeneration cycle this morning, I noticed a time variance in the alloted schedule."
"Yes... and?"
"I was awakened 0.709 seconds later than I should have been."
"You overslept." The doctor announced busying himself with the data on Neelix' latest attempt to poison the crew. Six cases of severe stomach cramps had kept him up all night.
"The concept of sleep is still foreign to me, therefor 'oversleeping' is not an option."
"It's merely an expression, Seven." He made a few changes to the padds he was studying. "Maybe you were tired and didn't hear the computer when it announced the cycle was complete."
"I did not." Seven was slightly annoyed by the distracted EMH. "Someone has been reprogramming my alcove."
Which earned her the full attention of the good doctor. "Someone has? Who? How?"
"The actual procedure of the tampering is irrelevant. Basically the algorithms of the time sensors had been changed to cause a 'glitch' in the programming resulting in a time variance of 0.709 seconds. It was easy to discover. The Lieutenant didn't even hide the fact that she was the one doing the reprogramming."
"The Lieutenant? Lieutenant Torres, you mean?"
"That is correct."
"Why would the Lieutenant do such a thing?"
"That's what I wanted to ask you."
"I see..." The doctor sat down in his chair in deep thought. "No, actually... I don't see."
"Doctor, are you aware of a human custom called a 'prank'?"
"A practical joke? Of course. I myself have played one or two since I have first been activated. There was this one time when..."
"As I understand a practical joke is a means to humiliate another human being in front of others in order to make fun of them."
"Not quite how I would put it, but an acceptable definition."
"And the one 'playing' the joke has to observe the reaction of the recipient in order to know whether the 'prank' was successful or not."
"I guess in most cases that is correct. What are you getting at? Has the Lieutenant been present this morning?"
"No. Actually if I hadn't told you about it, nobody would know that the alterations were successful. Not even the Lieutenant. Therefor the attempt to 'make fun of me' has failed."
The doctor straightened up a bit and watched Seven closely. He wasn't quite sure where this was leading but he had an overall idea. "Do you want the Lieutenant to know?"
"Doctor?"
"It's quite simple, really. I believe the Lieutenant was indeed playing a joke on you. But not - as you assume - in order to humiliate you in front of others but rather... to tease you, in a friendly way."
"The Lieutenant and I are not exactly friends." Even the doctor could hear the slight disappointment in Seven's voice. "Everytime we meet we start to argue."
"But you'd like to be friends with her." It was a statement, not a question.
"It is logical. The Lieutenant is intelligent, beautiful, efficient - in her own way, strong and self-confident. She would be worthy of my friendship."
Seven never noticed the quizzical look the doctor gave her upon hearing the word 'beautiful.' 'Guess, I forgot to include females when going through our dating lessons. Who would have known.' He smirked. "Well, Seven. The only thing I can tell you is... don't get mad, get even. We often tease the ones we love."
"Doctor?"
"A lot of time and energy is put into playing a practical joke. If you liked the gesture, you return the favour. That way the other persons knows how much you appreciated the attention." He stood up, shooing Seven out of his office. "Go, play your own little joke on the Lieutenant. Her reaction might surprise you." Seven looked startled for a moment but then regained the impassive mask she usually wore. "Thank you, doctor. I will consider your advice."
"You're welcome."
And with that a thoughtful ex-borg left sickbay, never hearing the muttered "Borg in love. Who would have thought?" - Not even with her advanced hearing.
*
"I'm telling you, someone manipulated the table!"
It was much later that evening at Sandrine's. The game of pool had been going on for quite some time, with B'Elanna continuously losing, missing every other shot.
"Come on, B'Elanna. Can't you just lose for once?" Tom had asked her and Harry earlier that day for a relaxed game of pool, hoping to conspire further against a certain ex-borg, but B'Elanna's relaxed mood had deteriorated as soon as the game started.
"I have no problem losing, Ensign. But 'this' is not losing, it's cheating." The Lieutenant stared at her cue, ready to break it in two.
"Tom's right." Harry tried to calm down the half-Klingon. "Give it a break, B'Elanna. Maybe you're just not concentrating tonight."
Which only seemed to aggravate the Lieutenant further. "Think what you will, Starfleet. But I'm telling you, someone manipulated the table."
"Sure." Tom remarked sarcastically. "Someone reprogrammed the holodeck, manipulated the internal sensors to distinguish you from any other person holding that cue, calculating the exact angle of every shot you ever made, coming up with a deviance of... what... 0.000000001?, so that you would lose every game we play tonight? Now seriously B'Elanna. Who would do such a thing?"
"Seven!"
Tom groaned, while Harry simple shook his head. "You are being paranoid. Why would Seven go to such lengths? The woman hates you."
B'Elanna grinned, happy in her belief that she indeed did not suck at pool. "She's trying to get back at me for the joke I played on her this morning."
"You played a joke on Seven?" Harry got that concerned, overprotective look again.
"Relax, Harry. I didn't kill her... obviously." B'Elanna stared at her cue and the pool table again.
"What did you do?" Tom could be annoyingly curious. "Hide her biosuits? Spice up her 'nutritional supplements' with synthehol?"
"Grow up, Tom." Harry only shook his head.
"What?" Tom tried his best puppy-dog-eyed look. "Don't tell me you haven't imagined Seven naked and drunk in your quarters once in a while?"
"You're sick, Paris." Though Harry had to admit that he indeed did imagine that... once at least.
"Nope, I just have a healthy imagination." Tom remarked. "And in contrast to you I try to live out most of my fantasies. Isn't that right, B'Elanna?... B'Elanna?"
Both Ensigns had to turn again towards the exit only to watch the Lieutenant disappear without a word... again.
"What's with this woman today? She never walked out on me that much even while we were still dating."
"Women..."
"Yeah, I know, can't live with them..."
Harry nodded, then turned back to the table. "Let's play pool."
*
This time the doors to astrometrics opened with an annoyed hiss. Not that the doors were actual sentient beings, but if you could ask them, they would have long tales to tell on how they were looking forward to another confrontation between their very efficient master, namely Seven of Nine, and one fiery Chief Engineer... not. If they had had a mind of their own, they would have stayed close but such is the predicament of a door. It opens and closes, admitting everyone and everything into a room. Even a half-Klingon on a war path.
"It was you, wasn't it?"
Seven of Nine did not even turn around from her console when acknowledging the other's presence. "Lieutenant Torres."
"Don't even try to deny it. I know it was you." B'Elanna came to a halt mere inches away from the statuesque blonde, hands on her hips and impatiently tapping her foot. Seven was not intimidated.
"If you could clarify what it is, you are accusing me of, Lieutenant, I am sure there is nothing I would have to deny."
B'Elanna took a deep breath. How could one person be so damn straight about everything? "You manipulated the pool table."
Seven turned briefly to look at the Lieutenant, then resumed her work at the console. "That is correct."
"Huh!" B'Elanna exclaimed triumphantly. "I knew it." She started pacing around, grinning happily. "I never play that many miles off the mark."
"Actually, you played exactly 3.454 millimeters off the mark. That was the deviation I programmed, taking into account your usual precision, style..."
B'Elanna stopped pacing and looked stunned. "You studied my style?"
Seven merely nodded. "A necessary research in order for the deviation to work."
"But... why?"
"Otherwise the 'joke' would not have been successful."
B'Elanna groaned. "I know that. Why did you do it at all?"
"Lieutenant?"
"I know, I kind of made fun of you this morning with your regeneration cycle and all. But to have you come back at me like that..."
"You are offended?"
"Yes... I mean, no..." The Lieutenant resumed her pacing again. "I was... at first. But thinking about it, I'm actually not... Realizing that you do have a sense of humour just... threw me off for a minute, I guess." She kept pacing up and down, muscles twitching every now and then, making Seven somewhat dizzy. "But then again... why should it, right? I mean, you do make the occasional funny remark."
"I do?"
"Yes." B'Elanna stopped pacing again and looked at Seven with a smile on her face. "Sometimes I still laugh about them before I go to sleep."
Now Seven was confused. "You think of me, before you go to sleep?"
"No! I don't think of you. I mean, I do think of you, like I think of Harry or Tom... or the captain of course, and Chakotay, oh yes and the doctor and Neelix... sometimes... " B'Elanna knew she was rambling but somehow couldn't stop it. "... okay, I think of you often... I mean, with all the fights were having it's hard not to, you know? Think, I mean."
"I see." Not that Seven did, but since the doctor used that particular expression whenever he was confused, it seemed appropriate.
"Do you?" B'Elanna looked straight into Seven's eyes, noticing for the first time, that they were much more expressive than she ever gave the borg credit for. She stepped a little closer to the ex-drone, bemusedly watching the slight widening of the pupils. Could it be that...? "What do you see, Seven?"
If it had been in her nature, Seven would have swallowed... hard. But seeing that it wasn't she just turned back to her console, pretending to work. "I am glad, I did not offend you, Lieutenant. After your 'joke' this morning, the doctor advised me to 'get even'. So I did. I believe we are finished now. If you'll excuse me, I need to get back to work."
"The hell you do." It was really fascinating to watch, how quickly Klingon mood changes occurred. One moment you're talking to them in a relaxed way, the next they're tossing padds at you. Tom could have told stories about it, but then he could be a gentleman... sometimes. In this case a suddenly infuriated Chief Engineer grabbed a slightly surprised ex-borg by the shoulders and turned her forcefully around. "We are by far from finished. You haven't answered my question yet."
"I do not wish to discuss my... my motivations with you."
"Well, I do."
"Well, I don't" Seven was trying to turn back to her console, but B'Elanna wasn't about to let go. It never occurred to either of them that their behaviour was too immature for even Naomi Wildman to consider. For a long time they just stared at each. Then B'Elanna threw her hands up in frustration. "This is ridiculous. Trying to talk to you is like talking to a wall."
"You..." She poked her index finger into Seven's chest repeatedly. "... are more stubborn, childish, infuriating and irritating than Tom Paris on his worst day."
Seven flinched slightly but did not move. "Are you done insulting me, Lieutenant?" She asked in a controlled voice that only aggravated the other woman further.
"Yes... No!" B'Elanna exclaimed as Seven was about to turn back again, leaving her hand on her chest for emphasis. "I'm not finished. You are also... arrogant, egotistical, exasperating..."
The poking motion had changed into a slight stroking which had the borg wondering whether the environmental controls were off line. She felt hot. "... thick headed, irritating...."
"You already mentioned 'irritating'."
The stroking stopped, leaving Seven somewhat disappointed. "Don't interrupt me, I'm on a roll here."
"My apologies, Lieutenant. Please continue."
"Thanks. Now, where was I?"
"Irritating."
"Yes! The most irritating, calculating..." B'Elanna resumed the stroking realizing fairly well what she was doing but being unable to stop. The temptation of the firm flesh under her finger tips was too great. "...agitating, agonizing and annoying person I have ever met. And if I never ever talk to you again, it'll still be too soon." With that out of her system B'Elanna took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "And now I'm finished."
Seven did not raise her implant, merely stared at the temperamental woman in front of her. "May I reply now?"
B'Elanna closed her eyes briefly and then smirked. 'What a childish outburst.' She thought. 'Guess I needed that.' Looking up into Seven's eyes, she simply nodded.
"Good." Seven straightened up to her full height, leaning closer into the other woman's touch. "You, Lieutenant Torres, are just as stubborn and head-strong and agitating and..." She smirked. 'A smirking borg? Now that was a scary thought.' B'Elanna gulped. "... irritating to me as I am to you." B'Elanna tried to get away but this time it was Seven who wouldn't let go. "You are also intelligent, strong, desirable, efficient..." 'Desirable? Did Seven just say desirable?' "... and..."
The sudden stop of the outburst irritated the Lieutenant. "And?"
"And..." Seven seemed flustered.
"And what?" B'Elanna growled impatiently. She wanted to hear the good part too.
"And... uh, words are inefficient." With a frustrated growl Seven grabbed the half-Klingon's shoulder and planted a kiss on the stunned engineer's lips. It may not have been the most perfect kiss, B'Elanna ever received. But then again Seven was hardly a professional. For now it was enough.
"That was... interesting."
"I have insulted you." Seven backed off, keeping her eyes down, not noticing the big grin on the other woman's face.
"Not yet." B'Elanna smiled, taking Seven's hands into her own. "But if you keep backing off, you will."
As a peace offering she kissed the ex-borg back, this time the blonde being less clumsy, already adapting perfectly. "How about we leave astrometrics and go somewhere a little more... comfortable. Say like my quarters?"
"You're quarters are a mess."
"I know. We could turn out the lights."
"Indeed."
Hand in hand they turned. Towards the exit. And hopefully a perfect moment.
Computer... lights off.
The End