Tango in Buenos Aires
MJR
The dark water of Buenos Aires harbour reflected the moon in its depths.
The stench of dead fish, rusty metal and motor oil seemed to hang low
over the quay, as if it seeped from the cracks and dents in the stone
pavement itself.
The city towered over the silent port, a dark mass speckled with the
light squares of window frames, blinking billboard lights, the endlessly
flashing on flashing off of advertising letters in bright red, blue,
yellow: Heineken beer, Lucky Strike, drink refreshing Coca Cola. Uphill
one could see bright streetlamps lining the lanes of the better part
of town.
Down here, darkness prevailed. Only the rectangle of an open door
just opposite the dark quay competed with the moonlit waters, the wooden
board above the doorframe with its faded curly nineteenth century font
barely readable:
"Los Caballeros
del Sur ~ Bar ~ Baile
It was here the two strangers were headed. One was a balding man,
dark hair ringing his skull, framing big ears. His eyes were almost
pitch black, mouth lined, with a slight smile barely visible. His look
however, was stern, as he pompously held the arm of the woman beside
him, having taken his high hat and white gloves in his other hand. His
black suit had an impressively long tailcoat; the trousers sharply creased.
The woman was dressed in a far simpler suit, a uniform of sorts, black
from the heeled boots up to where a red band accentuated her shoulders,
ending in a grey turtleneck which sported four golden dots. Hers was
a classical face: pointed chin; thin curved lips, high cheekbones and
blue grey eyes framed by straight auburn hair fell just short of her
shoulders. She regarded her companion with a slightly lopsided smile.
"Doctor, when I told you we were going to a bar to dance, I truly
meant 'bar' not the Royal Dance Hall," she said in a rich, throaty voice
tinged with amusement.
He looked down at her. "You mean this is not the proper attire to
go dance the tango in a well known Buenos Aires location somewhere in
the dark twentieth century?"
"Well…. no, not exactly. Tango does require a black suit, the quality
of this one is a bit overdone for a seaside bar in the somewhat… shall
I say… rougher part of town."
The man smiled. "Nevertheless I do feel this is the proper attire
to take the Captain dancing, no matter where or when this honourable
event is to take place."
"Doctor!" She exclaimed, squeezing his arm. "I didn't know you had
also grasped the art of flirtation!"
"Really, Captain," The doctor answered, as he led his companion through
the open door. "You severely underestimate my vast array of subroutines."
"Hey, you!"
The voice crackled at them from behind an old wooden table, empty
but for a small pewter bowl, that served to divide the tiny, barely
furnished room they had just entered. Music could be heard, muffled
from behind a door beyond the table.
The old man, to whom the voice belonged, assessed the couple before
him with disdain.
"I ain't admitting no ladies that aren't dressed properly," he drawled.
"Dames should be in dresses I say, otherwise where is the fun in dancing
eh?"
The Doctor stepped forward, affronted, but the Captain withheld him.
"Right you are sir," she replied. "It was foolish of me to forget. Computer,
change my attire into presets Janeway Tango two alpha."
A shrill chirp seemingly out of nowhere sounded, and in the blink
of an eye, the uniform the captain was wearing changed into a long,
form fitting red dress which left the shoulders and a good portion of
her lean back bare. The dress fell halfway to her calves, with one slit
on her left, leading the eye up toward the hip. A thin gold necklace
shimmered on the curves at the base of her neck. Elegantly heeled black
shoes, red gloves that stretched till the elbows and a dark leather
purse complemented the complete change from captain into woman.
"Much better." The old man smiled. "That's five pesos each
then, please."
The coins clinked in the little bowl on the table. The man hurried
to open the door for them, setting free the music from within.
A small bar stood at the far side of the room, lined with dark wine
bottles. The glasses hung above the bar in neat rows, the crystal reflecting
the lights from the lamps hung haphazardly from the ceiling. To the
right on a small podium, stood the musicians. A bandoneon player, standing
with one leg on a small stool, so he could fold his instrument over
his knee as it drew breath. A piano almost hid the hunched man sitting
behind it. A bear of a man plucked a bass, and beside him stood the
violinist, toe tapping to the rhythm. They played a slow, sad tango.
The violin and the bandoneon joined in an eerie melody that sounded
hopeful against better judgment, supported by the low staccato of the
bass and the piano players' fingers drumming on the wooden panels of
his instrument.
The singer, a beautiful dark haired woman, stood to the side, apparently
in the middle of her break, drinking a glass of clear liquid. The tables,
most of them occupied by women in dresses and men in riding trousers
and colourful shirts, were placed against the walls, to assure enough
room for the dancers, currently two couples, moving slowly and elegantly
through the room, their gazes locked onto one another.
As soon as she was seated, the captain retrieved from her small purse
a clasp and some lipstick, with which she painted her lips wine red
after she had done up her hair.
The doctor looked on silently.
"What?" she asked, catching his gaze.
"Well… to be truthful, Captain, words fail me. You look absolutely
stunning. I'd eh… never expect that from a Captain."
The captain laughed. "I'd have thought you would know to expect anything
from me after seven years under my command, doctor," she chuckled. "And
please remember, it's Kathryn from now on. No ranks here, as promised.
Besides, since you are dressed to the best of your ability, I might
as well follow suit… so to speak."
The Doctor gleamed with joy, as much as his matrix would allow him.
"Very well… Kathryn. May I offer you a drink?"
"Doctor," she sighed. "I thought you'd never ask."
They raised their glasses in honour of the tango and sat awhile, watching
the dancers perform their motions of contained passion. The bandoneon,
taking up an intricate solo, whimpered as if in agony, the singer clutched
her microphone and filled the room with her melancholical voice.
The audience sat entranced. Vuelvo al Sur…
The doctor offered Kathryn his hand. "My lady." He stood. "Will you
join me?"
To Kathryn's surprise and delight, the Doctor was an accomplished
dancer. He led her carefully over the wooden floor, every step well
styled and sure, giving her ample room to improvise.
"I would love to have the ability to share some of your subroutines,
Doctor," Kathryn murmured, sweeping her lower leg over his, locking
him then letting go and turning away. "You learn all this from the Federation
computer?"
"The Federation databases are indeed very extensive." He said, when
he came back to her to lead her backwards in a circle. "Your knowledge
of the tango is quite impressive also, cap… Kathryn."
She smiled. "I could use some instructions though. I feel a little
rusty."
"Oh, but I would be delighted to teach you the finer points of this
passionate dance," he said eagerly. "That is, if you'll allow me?"
"I think that is a very good idea, Doctor. I haven't run this program
in far too long," Kathryn answered, letting go of his grip and swirling
away. "But first, another drink." She smiled, perspiration lightly visible
on her forehead.
"She has quite a voice, don't you think?" the Doctor said, nodding
at the singer, who had started another song, a staccato, almost joyful
song about some Maria De Buenos Aires. They were back at their table
with their drinks.
"Ah, yes, she does," Kathryn answered "But then again, this is Buenos
Aires. And what's more, this is my program."
"You programmed this?" The doctor said, truly astonished "I never
knew you were such an accomplished programmer. This environment is very
convincing."
"I need to play too, every now and then, Doctor," Kathryn said as
she sipped her wine. "I need it to be as convincing as possible to forget
the stress I sometimes have to take."
"I often wonder how you do it." The Doctor shook his head. "You really
have to take better care of yourself. As a doctor, I feel compelled
to ask you once more to…"
Kathryn silenced him by raising her hand and shaking her finger at
him. "In this place, I will allow no ranks. Here I am no more your captain
than you are my doctor. Please."
The Doctor inclined his head. "Sorry."
They gazed at the musicians once more, not knowing what to say. As
the song ended and they clapped along with the rest of the bar, the
doctor turned to Kathryn and asked, "If you admire a clear woman's voice
then I am sure you know Seven is also a very apt singer?"
She perched an eyebrow. "She is?"
"Oh yes." The doctor smiled. "A very clear voice. I taught her to
sing myself. A fine way to start on the road of musicality if I might
add. I wonder what she would do with a tango…"
"She dances too?" Kathryn asked.
"Of course! I was very fortunate to have had the opportunity to also
teach her that fine art. She is very hesitant however, and I don't think
that she will be eager to dance after the incident with Lt. Chapman."
"I heard about that incident," Kathryn said. "And about the wager
you had with Mr. Paris."
Once more, the Doctor inclined his head. "A very unfortunate decision
on my part," he mumbled.
The captain, seeing this conversation was clearly not going as planned,
grasped his hand on the table. "Do not torture yourself over that incident
anymore. You learned a valuable lesson. Didn't she forgive you in the
end?"
The Doctor grimaced. "Ah. Well. Yes, she did, in the end. But she
also decided to refrain from using my teaching services in the future.
That…unsettled me."
"Maybe we should invite her to this program, and teach her to dance
the tango," Kathryn offered.
"Oh, a most excellent idea, Kathryn, I would be delighted." His smile
faded. "But I fear she may not be willing to participate in this endeavour
when I am around. She has been avoiding me after my… somewhat blunt
confession…"
"You must admit, that was a pretty heavy confession. Seven probably
doesn't know how to respond to it," Kathryn answered.
"It was a silly thing to do, but I couldn't stand the thought of disappearing
forever without even once telling her what I feel." Kathryn shot him
a look, her red lips tight.
"But alas," The doctor sighed, toying with his empty glass. "She does
not love me back."
Kathryn was silent for a while. Then she emptied her glass and said.
"No. She does not."
The doctor, not even questioning Kathryn's insight into what Seven
might or might not feel, sighed sadly.
"I'll invite her to the program" Kathryn offered "Maybe some song
and dance in a totally different environment will make it easier for
the both of you to re-establish your friendship."
The doctor looked up at her "You think she would be willing to come?"
They were interrupted by shouting. At the bar, a lady had jumped up,
cursing her companion, who stood dumbfounded. The bystanders laughed
and gasped as she emptied her wineglass in his face. "You swine! When
will you learn that if a woman says no, she means no!"
She strode over the dance floor towards the door, eyes on fire. He
came after her, calling out "But what did I ask, after all? Only a dance!
It's not as if I asked you to shed your dignity! This is a dance hall
dammit!" He reached out to grasp her arm. The music stopped abruptly
as the singer leaped from the podium and stepped in between the two
quarrelling guests. She stood with her back to the woman, who immediately
grasped the singer's waist and held on to her. A deafening silence filled
the room. The singer eyed the man coldly.
"You drink too much wine too fast, Felipe. And you have no way with
women. To ask a lady to dance is done with well spoken words. Not by
grasping her breasts! If I were you I'd get out of here and keep your
hands off the wine for a change!"
The people who had gathered closer to look, whistled and clapped appreciatively.
"Go Felipe, we don't need you here!" "Go Felipe, go away!" The man eyed
the singer for a moment longer, then spat on the floor and walked out
the room. He shut the door with a violent bang. The singer looked at
the musicians. "Una milonga por favor" she shouted. Immediately, the
musicians started playing again. The singer turned to the woman, smiling,
and took her by the hand. Slowly they started dancing.
"Oh my," Muttered Kathryn "I see I forgot to delete some subroutines."
The guests walked back to clear the dance floor and whistled the dancing
women on. It was clear they had danced with one another many times.
They swirled, glided over the dance floor in intricate circles, playing
the age-old game of repel and attract. Come together, swirl apart, come
together, slip apart, come together, cheeks barely brushing each other,
step apart, pull together again to lock eyes, change direction in the
blink of an eye, play with the curves two bodies make when in the dance.
The doctor hummed appreciatively. "This is indeed an exceptional place."
He said. "One can almost touch the atmosphere."
To this, Kathryn could do nothing but laugh.
Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix Zero-One, stood ramrod
straight at the working console in Voyager's astrometrics lab. She studied
the big screen in front of her, displaying a constellation of six planets
and their moons around a relatively young star. She had instructed the
computer to scan each one of the planets and moons extensively, and
data was pouring in on her console. The compositions of atmospheres,
earth crust, mineral deposits, as well as seismological activity, gravity
and weather patterns. Her analytical Borg mind assessed the data as
fast as it rolled over her small workstation screen. With rapid hand
movements, she composed a thorough report for her Captain.
Seven wanted to be nothing short of thorough. Not only because as
a former Borg drone she had been used to strive to the utmost efficiency,
but also because she wanted to please the captain.
She had hated Captain Janeway once, as she had just been severed from
the Collective by this fiery auburn haired woman. She had loathed this
annoying human individual for her unwavering belief in the merits of
this feeble race where Seven herself had once belonged, the race where
the captain so dearly wanted to take this drone back. She had ordered
Seven to function on Voyager as an individual amongst many other individuals.
The scared drone who had experienced nothing but the the certainty and
unity of the hive mind.
Three years had passed since then. Seven had found that, although
humanity brought with it many conflicting emotions: uncertainty at every
turn, appalling inefficiency and daunting social situations, she rather
liked being an individual. To be able to at least partially control
one's small life, to be able to give it one's own direction, felt much
more fulfilling then to be part of the vast Borg Collective, no matter
how big a force it was in the Delta Quadrant.
Especially since being part of the Collective meant feeling nothing,
caring about nothing, a form of non-thinking that blotted out all individuality,
all emotion.
She had discovered that emotions could give life colour and meaning.
She had despised her emotions at first, for throwing her off balance.
It was immensely frustrating to try so hard to be objective, efficient,
perfect, only to be inwardly reduced to nothing more then a shuddering
child by a look, a couple of words, or, worse yet, a captain that refused
to see logic.
But she had learned to control them. And the same Captain had taught
her that there were emotions that could uplift one, give more meaning
to the dreary life aboard a starship a good 50000 light-years from home.
Throughout this journey, Captain Kathryn Janeway had been her beacon.
For her, Seven would do nothing less but her Borg-inspired best. To
honour her dedication to this new Collective, the formidable Captain
who led it, and to the friendship they had carefully forged during these
past three years.
Seven did not count many friendships besides the one with Captain
Janeway. Naomi Wildman, the only child aboard, was her friend, as was
the holographic doctor, until recently.
Ever since his declaration of love for her, a couple of days ago,
she felt decidedly uneasy when thinking about him, so she had avoided
him.
She sighed as she downloaded her now finished report into a padd.
Seven thought it already difficult to discover the parameters of a friendship,
let alone how to continue that friendship when the expectations of that
relationship were abruptly, and so blatantly, changed.
The automatic doors swooshed open behind her. She recognized the brisk
step at once.
"Hello Seven," the captain said in her usual husky timbre as she reached
the console.
Seven smiled faintly. The visits the captain paid her were the highlights
of her day.
"Captain," Seven acknowledged. She held out the padd. "I have found
a very interesting star system about 15 parsecs from here. Since two
of the planets contain valuable minerals, I would strongly suggest diverting
course to take in extra supplies."
The captain accepted the padd and surveyed the data. "Deuteronium
alloy.. lithium..85% pure dilithium.." She mustered "This looks promising
indeed. We'll discuss it in this afternoon's meeting. Thank you, Seven."
Seven inclined her head. It was almost impossible to see the air of
satisfaction that ghosted over her features, but the Captain saw it.
She smiled.
"Actually, Seven, I came here for another reason then your report.
I would like to invite you."
The metallic implant that adorned Seven's eyebrow rose.
"Invite me, Captain?" She echoed, wondering why her heartbeat had
just sped up 23.6 percent.
"Yes, invite you." Janeway continued, "I would be honoured if you
would join me and the Doctor for a tango night in a nice program on
the holodeck."
"Tango, Captain?"
"If you do not know how to dance the tango, I'd be delighted to teach
you," Janeway offered.
Seven regarded her, her expression unreadable.
"I know how to dance the tango, Captain," Seven answered. "I am reluctant,
however, to meet the doctor… I do not know how to proceed after his
confession to me."
Janeway nodded. "That's exactly why I'd like you to be there, Seven.
I think it would be a good idea to simply have a good time together,
carry on with our friendships where we left off. Maybe that will break
the ice between you."
Seven linked her hands behind her back, looking puzzled. "I am not
required to answer to his confession?"
"Your silence toward him has been answer enough. He is truly saddened
you do not visit him, Seven."
Seven frowned, then looked away. "I'd rather he'd never disclosed
his feelings. I do not know how to behave when in his presence."
Janeway patted her arm. "Did it startle you so?" she asked.
"It came as no surprise to me, Captain. He has mentioned before he
felt I was special to him. But that was never so defined, so outspoken.
I could always pretend I did not know."
Janeways hand slided along Seven's arm before it left her. Seven felt
a rush of warmth in its wake.
"I see. And now you feel you must formulate an answer before you can
take up that friendship again?"
"That is correct," Seven said "But I do not want to hurt him. Even
though it seems that I must."
Janeway smiled sadly. "You are already hurting him, Seven. That's
why I would like you to come to the holodeck tomorrow night, and have
a pleasant evening with us, and maybe the air will be cleared after
that. What do you think?"
Seven pondered the captain's offer. She gazed back at Janeway. "And
this tango program, is it a public program?"
"No Seven, it is one of my own programs. I have plenty of holodeck
time to make it a private evening."
Again, Seven was surprised. She thought she knew every one of the
captain's private programs. Apparently, she was mistaken. "Very well.
I accept the invitation."
Janeway smiled radiantly at that. "Thank you Seven. Let's say… tomorrow
night, 1900 hours?"
Seven inclined her head in acknowledgment.
"Do you know what attire is required for a tango?" Janeway asked.
"I cannot come in my biosuit?" The blonde asked, slightly uncomfortable.
Janeway shook her head, smiling even wider. "No, but I'll help you
get dressed properly, Seven."
That made Seven's heartbeat increase with another 7.8 percent.
"Very well, Captain. If you'll excuse me now, I have more scans to
prepare for today's meeting"
Janeway held up her hand. "I won't keep you then. By all means…" And
with that, she left astrometrics, surprisingly light hearted. She was
already looking forward to tomorrow. So Seven can dance the tango?
She thought. Now I am very curious indeed!
Seven regarded the holodeck controls curiously. She had examined the
captain's private holoprograms before. In fact, she had seen all of
them, in a quest to try to understand what moved this woman. She had
examined the captain's curious preference for nineteenth century North
America on earth, her habit of creating dark handsome men who were intellectual,
brooding, seclusive and just a little bit too much out of reach. Her
interest in the Italian renaissance, most notably the artist and scientist
Leonardo Da Vinci, whose studio she had recreated. That was the only
program where Seven had been invited. The program that had spawned her
idea to seek out other programs made by the captain. She had overlooked
this particular tango recreation. Mainly because it wasn't encrypted
to the captain's name. It was made by a fairly well known human programmer,
so Seven had supposed it was one of the standard programs federation
starships came equipped with.
Now that she was browsing the code, she saw the adaptations that were
made, some quite substantial. Apparently Captain Janeway had transformed
the original tango palace setting to a harbour café, and changed the
music to be played. She had added several characters, most notably the
owner of the bar. Seven checked the attributes of this personage twice.
Then she checked the date these alterations were made. She found this
program had been rebuilt quite some time ago. Which meant the captain
had kept this program with her on the last three outer space missions
she had been on, if not longer.
Her Borg-enhanced hearing picked up Janeway's footsteps long before
she appeared in the corridor. The program was suitably closed and all
traces of intrusion covered, when Janeway greeted her astrometrics officer
standing at attention near the holodeck doors.
"Hello Seven," Janeway greeted. "I hope I haven't kept you waiting?"
"Only 2 minutes 21 seconds, Captain."
Janeway smiled. "How inefficient of me."
Seven chose to simply raise her eyebrow at that. Apparently the captain
was in a joyful mood, which promised something for the evening that
lay ahead.
Janeway punched in some codes and the holodeck doors opened. "Please,
Seven," she said, while gesturing towards the door. "Shall we negotiate
your attire for the evening?"
"Yes, Captain," Seven answered, and strode in. The program wasn't
yet running and the holodeck grid stretching out in stern patterns around
them.
"Please, call me Kathryn," the captain said. "We are free of duty
tonight, and I'd prefer it if we left our ranks behind."
Seven was intrigued. She knew that only a select few were granted
the privilege of calling the captain by her given name. "Very well,
Kathryn" The name sounded well when spoken in her own voice. She felt
compelled to speak it aloud many times, as a mantra. Kathryn, Kathryn,
Kathryn…
"You won't be needed to overview the mining expedition?" She asked
instead, maintaining her cool Borg demeanour.
Kathryn shook her head. "It is a relatively simple mission, there
are no direct threats to be monitored, no sentient life forms on the
planet surface, I think commander Chakotay can handle this one by himself."
She walked towards the replicator, next to the control panel.
"Do you have any preferences, Seven, like a specific colour or style
of dress?"
"No, ca… Kathryn. I have no experience in the human habit of 'dressing
up' so I am required to follow your recommendations."
"Very well…" Kathryn said softly.
The captain ordered the holodeck to transform itself into a simple
changing room, so Seven could dress herself in seclusion. She brought
out a couple of dresses, long and short, and suggested Seven try them.
Every time the beautiful blonde emerged from the dressing room in
one of her creations, Kathryn's mouth went dryer. For the first time
since she had taken Seven aboard she had the perfect opportunity to
see Seven in all her glory, to examine her body, her legs rising endlessly
up, the curve of her long neck. Things she had seen and secretly admired
before, but only stealthily, never laying down her mask as captain.
First came a simple white dress that wrapped over Seven's chest, falling
just below her knees then a blue form fitting frock with only thin straps
to hold it up that left her long lean arms and legs bare then a black
gown that succeeded in making Seven even more slender, softly enhancing
her female form without overdoing it.
She turned Seven around, who stood obediently, if shyly, before her.
"Ok, I know," she said. "We go back to the wrap but we make it long
and black." She looked up in the insecure eyes of Seven. "I think black
really suits you, Seven. Though I must say you look extraordinary in
everything."
"I do, Kathryn?"
"Oh yes. You are a very beautiful woman. Has no one ever told you?"
Kathryn said, as she walked back to the replicator.
"Only the Doctor," Seven answered.
The captain came back with the folded black dress in her hands.
"Aren't my Borg implants repulsive?" Seven asked.
Kathryn stopped dead in her tracks.
"Are you afraid they will repulse people?" she asked, concerned.
Seven cocked her head. "I know they deter people. They remind
them I am not entirely human." Kathryn ran her hand up Seven's arm,
lightly touching the star-shaped implant there. Seven followed the hand
with her gaze, her cheeks slightly colouring before her nanoprobes could
fight the effect Kathryn's touch had on her.
"They do not deter me." The captain said. "And I know the senior staff
has no problem whatsoever with your appearance. They are part of who
you are. And you are beautiful. Don't ever doubt that." She held up
the dress for Seven, who took it. "Change into this," she said. "And
I will change as well. Let's have a party tonight!"
Seven had never seen the captain as only a woman. She held her breath
momentarily when Kathryn stepped out in a red dress. She wondered why
the captain had suddenly decided to reveal this side of her persona
to her. Only because she desperately wanted to see the friendship between
her and the doctor continue? It would be illogical to go through such
efforts as dressing up, a pursuit that Seven had found very troublesome,
only to accomplish something the captain could have done in her Starfleet
uniform, and in the mess hall, at that.
The captain invoked the Buenos Aires program. Instantly, they were
on the quay, on a warm South American summer night, enveloped in the
half darkness of moonlight and blinking streetlamps. Kathryn took Seven's
hand. "The bar is that way. Come. The doctor will be here soon."
"Do you think it is prudent to comment on the doctors confession?"
Seven asked, as they were walking along the quay towards the lighted
rectangle of Los Caballeros del Sur.
Kathryn pouted her lips, thinking. "Maybe not. Maybe it is best to
not speak of it at all, and let bygones be bygones," she answered.
"Is that what you would do when someone made a confession of love
to you?" Seven queried. Kathryn's brow furrowed. For a few paces, she
remained silent. "I do not know what I would do." She answered at last
"I would be very honoured, of course…"
"A confession of love is something to be honoured by?" Seven asked,
truly astonished. She had been nothing but thoroughly embarrassed.
"Why, of course, Seven. If someone loves you, it means he looks up
to you, sees all your good things, wants to be close to you and protect
you. I find that a heart warming experience."
"Even if you do not reciprocate?"
"Yes, Seven," Kathryn nodded gravely. "Even then. It is not an emotion
to take lightly."
They stepped into the light of the small ante room. There sat the
old man behind his table, smiling a mismatched tooth smile. "Welcome
back, my lady. I see you have thought of being properly dressed…and
brought a beautiful friend too! Maybe this night will turn out to be
something after all!"
"We sure intend it to," Kathryn said, as she dropped the required
entrance fee into the bowl.
Seven scrutinized her surroundings. This program was much different
from the other holo simulations by the captain she had investigated.
It was far more lively, far more 'rough round the edges' She
spotted the dark woman on the stage, singing to the music. Her long
dark hair stood out against her long white dress, which was almost sweeping
on the floor if not for the high heels she wore. Seven stared at her
until Kathryn shook her out of her reverie by patting her shoulder.
"Let's sit at the bar, shall we?"
"I am surprised, Kathryn," Seven said, as their drinks were placed
before them on the old wooden bar. "This is very different from your
Da Vinci program."
"Yes, it is very old," Kathryn answered pensively, regarding the dancers.
"I haven't run this program in a long time."
"Why did you stop playing it?" Seven asked.
"Because it represents a bolder, rasher me that I had to leave behind
in order to become a good captain."
Seven cocked her head sideways. "You have been bolder then you are
now?" she said in astonishment, her implant almost touching her hairline.
Kathryn laughed. "Yes, Seven. You may find it difficult to believe,
but compared to that time, I have greatly improved my efficiency."
They shared a glance. Kathryn's eyes twinkled with joy, her wine shaded
lips barely containing her smile. Seven forgot to breathe.
"There you are!" The doctor said, who had come up to them. "Hello
Seven, Captain. How delightful you both look!" Seven nodded in acknowledgment.
The moment between her and the captain was gone as suddenly as it had
come. She tensed her shoulders as the Doctor turned toward her. "You
look astonishing, Seven," he said, voice constricted with emotion. "I
am so glad you agreed to come"
She darted her eyes between him and Kathryn, conscious of her extraordinary
attire, and the closeness she had just shared with Kathryn that suddenly
seemed inappropriate somehow.
"Doctor," she said hesistantly. "I am honoured by your feelings towards
me. However, I do not reciprocate. I deem it best to continue our friendship
as it was without mentioning this unfortunate incident."
The Doctor, quite uneasy himself, nodded. "Yes.. yes, I am very sorry
I embarrassed you so.. It might be better to forget all about my rather
awkward little performance. You are right, Seven… can I offer you both
a drink? To make up for past mistakes?"
"Sure" Kathryn said, raising her glass "I'd be delighted."
They raised their glasses to friendship. Kathryn patted Seven on the
arm when the Doctor was momentarily looking away. "Well done," she whispered
in the Borg's ear. "You both will be fine."
Seven was about to answer, when another hand lightly caressed her
arm, begging for attention. Startled, she turned around and looked right
into the dark eyes of the singer, who had walked up to them.
"I would be very honoured, my lady, if you would grant me the next
dance," she said to Seven in her low timbre, holding out her hand. Seven
looked at the outstretched hand, then back to the singer's quite lovely
face, dark eyebrows curving over lightly accentuated eyes, set above
high cheekbones, long eyelashes, light red lips curving into a smile.
The singer was not looking at Seven however, even if the question
was obviously directed to her. She was looking at Kathryn, who stared
back at the singer, her face a bit paler than normal. As Seven looked
back at the captain over her shoulder Kathryn started to make a gesture
but before she could finish it, Seven had made her decision.
Seven grasped the singer's hand. "Very well" she said, and stood up
to follow the singer to the dance floor. She was grasped softly at the
waist while the singers other hand took hers firmly. They stood close,
waiting for the music to begin.
"What is your name, lovely?" whispered the singer in Seven's ear.
"I am called Seven," Seven said. The first chords of the guitar trembled
in the air.
"It is a pleasure, Seven…" said the singer as she started to slide
slowly forward, till their bodies almost touched, then they both took
a step aside "…to dance with you. I am Maria. I own this bar."
"I know," whispered Seven.
Maria guided her through several slow steps, extending her leg, so
Seven could step over it in her turn, then taking her back, bringing
them together in slow smooth motions to draw figures with their bodies.
"You know?" Maria smiled "Kathryn has told you about me then?"
"She hasn't said a word about you," Seven answered. "But some things
are obvious."
Maria moved away again, changing direction. "Your beauty is what's
obvious," she purred. They came together, both looking the other way.
Seven wrapped her leg over Maria's, snapped it back again, stepped away
to the rhythm of the music. Maria slid up to her, grasping hold of her
waist once again from behind her. Seven arched sideways.
Kathryn's face had turned to stone, her lips pressed almost to a line.
"What a beautiful sight," the Doctor sighed next to her. "I didn't know
Seven had improved her dancing to such an extent!"
"She must have assimilated the whole section on tango in the Starfleet
database," Kathryn muttered. "She should know from experience that is
a hazardous thing to do."
"Surely the database on tango isn't that vast," the doctor
contradicted. "I doubt she has acted irresponsibly."
He noticed the captain's irritated behaviour. "Knowing Seven, she
wanted to learn the tango to impress you," he said, gentling his voice.
"Your opinion is very important to her."
"Then why the hell is she dancing the tango with her," whispered
the captain, teeth grinding.
The Doctor regarded his captain for a moment, as if assessing her
for the first time.
"Because you never asked her, Kathryn," he said. Her head snapped
up, and she almost made a snide comment, halting when she saw his earnest
gaze. "If you don't tell her you want to…dance with her, she
will never know," the Doctor continued. Kathryn averted her eyes, looking
back at the couple on the dance floor.
Maria's hands slid up Seven's torso as the music came to an end. For
a second, they remained in this position then they let go of each other.
"You are a very good dancer," Maria said "You must grace me with another
dance sometime."
Seven smiled. "Perhaps," she answered noncommittally. She saw Kathryn
walk purposefully toward them over the dance floor, eyes stormy grey,
fixed on her.
"Kathryn," She said. Maria turned around.
"Seven," Kathryn answered. "Will you please dance with me?"
Maria curled her lips in an almost feral smile. "You think you can
outdo me, Kathryn?"
The captain paid no attention to the singer. She had eyes only for
Seven. "I would love to dance with you, captain," Seven answered softly.
Maria touched Seven's arm lightly, before stepping back. "Be careful,
sweet Seven. This woman can devour your heart." Kathryn's eyes shot
fire at the singer, as she gently took Seven's hand in her own.
"Is that jealousy I see, Kathryn?" Seven asked, laying her hand in
the curve of Kathryn's body just above the hip. She felt as if her palms
were set on fire by the touch, the first time Seven ever touched the
captain deliberately.
"Just what exactly should I be jealous about, Seven?" asked Kathryn,
looking up at her, eyes still stormy with emotion.
"For dancing with the holo character that is meant to be your love
interest." Seven said as she started the dance.
Kathryn's eyes widened. "How…"
"I studied the program codes," Seven answered, as she took Kathryn's
slender hand in her own and gently pulled the lithe frame towards her.
"You designed her from scratch. Her looks, her arrogance, her… preferences."
They swirled, stepping apart at the end of the turn. The bandoneon chimed
in, a high fluttering melody, following their movements, or were they
following the bandoneon? "I was intrigued." Seven whispered as Kathryn
came back to her, grasping her hands again as if to hold on. "I always
assumed you suppressed the need for romance totally."
They gazed at one another as they danced. "This was the way I suppressed
my need for romance… by designing it myself," Kathryn admitted. "But
I lost myself in it, so I closed the program down."
"What made you reconsider?" Seven asked when they came together again.
Kathryn looked up at Seven, mouth twitching. She felt drawn into those
big blue eyes. She looked away. "Because the need for romance has been
bothering me again, lately."
Seven pressed Kathryn back, initiating her to arch completely over
her arm. As Kathryn rose back up to her, she said, "In that case I have
a confession to make, Kathryn."
"What?"
She swirled away, stepping out. Seven stepped up to her, and stilled
her movement by placing both her hands on Kathryn's hips. The captain
turned around to face her. "Kathryn, I believe I love you," Seven whispered.
Kathryn froze.
"I understand now why it is important that I tell you. I have loved
you for a long time and I want you to know I always will." Kathryn looked
wide-eyed at Seven, astonished, trembling. She could have expected anything
but this. "I know you will at least honour my confession." Seven continued.
"For me, that is enough. Just know that I love you, captain."
She slid her hands down softly along Kathryn's hips, before breaking
contact and turning away.
Kathryn held her back. Seven looked at her questioningly. "Yes, Kathryn?"
She asked.
The Doctor had followed the interaction with increasing difficulty.
When Kathryn swept Seven up in a searing kiss, he blinked his first
ever holographic tears away. Somehow he had felt this, had known that
the captain was the most important person to Seven. Had suspected he
could never dream of coming between them. But still, he had dreamed.
Such a sweet dream it had been.
