Title: To Touch
Author: Pecosa
E-Mail Address:ejp34@email.byu.edu
Rating: G
Summary: Seven was deprived of more than socialization in the collective; every human being needs to touch.
Author's Homepage: http://home.swbell.net/provance/fanfic.html

Disclaimer: Star Trek: Voyager and all the properties within belong to United Paramount Pictures. It is illegal to profit from the fiction below.

Thank you, Mama.

Seven of Nine stood as straight and still as the warp core behind her, tapping commands into the console. It had been quite some time since the engines had last worked more than a day without a glitch; she suspected now that their miraculous recovery was deceiving.

Glancing across the room, the woman made a note of Torres, who was feeling much the same way. In frustration, the brunette ran yet another scan of the containment pods, only to have it come up flawless. Normally, the engineer would be thrilled to have her ship working so perfectly, but she hadn't *done* anything to cause it; that worried her. As the computer reported the results of yet another scan, two arms snaked around her waste.

"Tom!" she gasped. "Not here!" Frantically, her dark eyes darted around the room to see if anyone had seen. Seven snapped her gaze back down to her work just in time.

"Mmm. You smell good."

With a grin, B'Elanna spun to face him. "What are you doing here?" Her eyes sparkled, silently letting him know she was glad he'd came.

Paris allowed his arms to drop and backed away a step, placing a serious expression on his face. "I wondered why you stood me up for breakfast."

"Oh, Tom, I'm sorry! I forgot all about it." Torres looked truly worried for a moment until her beau let his mask fall.

"It's okay," he assured her. He leaned closer and confided, "I wasn't there either." She tittered. "Now," he continued, "I really have to get to the bridge. The captain will be jealous."

"How about a . . . farewell gift?"

"I was hoping you'd ask . . ." As they leaned into a long and gentle kiss, neither noticed Seven across the room, staring longingly.

***

" . . . Lieutenant Torres tells me that though her tests have been inconclusive, there is some evidence of a flaw in the magnetic lock-down mechanisms. B'Elanna?" The captain turned the floor over to her officer with a smile and a pat on the back.

The engineer began a report with the full attention of every officer there - except Seven. Instead, the woman found her skin tingling and thoughts whirling. In her mind's eye, she saw Tom and B'Elanna embracing, a spirited arm wrestling competition between Neelix and Kim, the commander rubbing his captain's shoulder after a particularly long day, and finally, her captain, sometimes touching a shoulder, sometimes patting a hand.

"Actually, Seven has done more research on that subject than I have. Seven?" Her head jerked up in response to her name, and she mentally replayed the last few seconds of the meeting.

"Yes, I believe the . . . the mechanism would be improved by added tritanium." Her voice shook just slightly. Several of the crew gave her odd looks, but it appeared that she'd come up with the right answer.

For some weeks, the woman had found herself easily distracted. For several minutes at a time, her gaze would rest on a friendly group playing pool or eating dinner. These moments were spent inefficiently, and yet her thoughts seemed to follow the paths despite her efforts to focus on tasks ahead.

The rest of the briefing went by without incident, and when the crew was dismissed, Seven stood among them to exit. "Seven, can I speak to you a for moment?"

She turned to meet Janeway's eyes. "Of course, Captain."

The auburn-haired matriarch wasted no time, calling up a schematic on the large screen. "You mentioned that you believed the locking mechanisms would benefit from a second layer of tritanium. Do you think we could retrieve it from here," she pointed, "and here without compromising systems?"

"Yes," she affirmed. "As long as at least half a centimeter of tritanium protects the core, there is no danger."

"But if there was an impact here -" The captain pointed to a coordinate and placed her hand on Seven's shoulder. The latter gasped, the physical stimulation shocking her.

Janeway jerked her hand away. "What is it?"

The woman felt her skin prickle and swallowed hard. "Nothing." She struggled to regain her composure.

The command left Kathryn's voice, replaced by a soft gentleness. "Seven, what it is?"

Absurdly, the woman felt moisture begin to fill her eyes. "Your hand . . ."

The word meant worlds to the elder. Seven hadn't only been deprived of conversation and interaction with humans throughout the years - she'd been left without physical touch. "Seven . . ." she whispered, embracing the blonde. Sobs came very quickly now and very hard as Kathryn rocked her protégé in her arms. For some time they stood that way together, long after the tears stopped, as Annika Hansen learned to touch again.

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