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Deadlier than a Scorpion’s Sting – Chapter
11
By Kudara
Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager and crew
belong to Paramount/Viacom and no infringement of
copyright/trademarks is intended. The only thing I lay claim to
is the solar system I created for Pegasi 51, the background and
culture of the Pegasian’s, and the original character Alexa
Nikoleon.
Note: This story diverges from the canon
storyline during the events of Scorpion II, and thus is
essentially, an AU story.
Rating: Mature
Feedback: Always welcome, feedback is what
encourages me to keep writing. Please let me know what you like
and what you dislike about the story.
Revision History: 03/01/07
Summary: Seven’s surgeries are completed,
Seven and Alexa’s neural interfaces are modified so they cannot
connect with the Borg subspace interlinks, and Marie Hickman
gets a surprise.
********************************************************************
Stardate
51023.7 (Wed, 09 Jan 2374 15:15 GMT)
Alexa watched in wonder as Seven’s eyelids
fluttered open and two beautiful ice-blue eyes, one framed by
the external portion of her optical implant, focused upon her.
The Doctor had done an excellent job in creating a replacement
for that part of Seven’s optical implant; even though she knew
which eye was artificial she could see no difference between the
two.
“Hey,” she softly greeted, smiling at Seven
warmly as she gently placed her hand on the bare shoulder
showing above the silvery sheet. She didn’t know which was more
beautiful to her right now, the pale blue eyes staring into
hers, the shining shoulder length mass of wheat blonde hair, or
the sight of bare shoulders and the delicate line of collarbones
leading to the hollow of Seven’s throat.
“Alexa,” Seven swallowed and the shoulder
underneath Alexa’s hand tensed, “This silence is uncomfortable,”
the Borg announced.
“I know,” Alexa admitted in a low voice,
not particularly wanting to be overheard by the Doctor or Kes
who were currently hovering over a console in another part of
Sickbay replicating anti-Species 8472 nanoprobes. “I didn’t
realize how used to your presence I had gotten until we modified
your neural interface and you stopped transmitting to the
subspace interlink.”
Captain Janeway had come to Sickbay earlier
to inform them that she was approving their request to modify
their neural interfaces. As they were at a point in the Borg’s
surgeries requiring them to awaken Seven and run diagnostics on
her cortical node anyway, Alexa had suggested they obtain
Seven’s approval and proceed with the modification to their
neural interfaces. The Pegasian knew they were approaching the
coordinates for the Sector 12 transwarp corridor location.
Before the Captain could order Voyager into the corridor, the
modifications to their neural interfaces had to be completed.
Otherwise the danger of running into a Borg vessel and their
being pulled into the Collective consciousness was simply too
great of a risk, both for themselves and for Voyager.
Alexa continued, “As soon as your feeling
up to it, I’m going to have the Doctor proceed with modifying my
neural interlink and removing the carpial implant in my hand.”
Seven looked relieved, “Acceptable. I am
ready now.”
That was all the warning Alexa had before
Seven sat up and the thin sheet fell to her waist. Grabbing the
edge, the Pegasian jerked the covering upward, hoping that the
two security guards at the door hadn’t been looking in their
direction at that moment. Her eyes met startled blue ones, “I
guess I need to find some clothing for you,” Alexa finally
managed, trying not to dwell on the memory of pale, full, rose
tipped breasts. Now was not the time to be thinking about the
soft, smooth bare skin just the thickness of a sheet away.
“Computer privacy screen,” she croaked. As they were in the
main surgical bay, a semi-circle of opaque forcefield formed
between them and the rest of Sickbay, obscuring both sight and
sound.
“You are aroused,” observed Seven. Then,
even though she had known what the Doctor was planning to
complete today, she noticed she had hair for the first time.
Seven reached up and drew a lock forward so she could look at
it. “My hair follicles have been stimulated,” she said, her
voice betraying her wonder.
“You have beautiful hair; it reminds me of
the color of wheat ready for the harvest,” Alexa commented
huskily, “It suits you.”
Seven eyed her dubiously, “My hair reminds
you of a grain?”
Alexa’s voice took on a far off tone, “The
wheat stalk pales from green to this color when the wheat is
ripe, my father grows fields and fields of it. When I think of
fall on Pegasus, I think of golden wheat fields rippling with
the wind.”
A frown etched itself upon Seven’s face.
“You will show me this when our link is reestablished,” the
blonde stated, aggrieved.
“Of course,” agreed Alexa, understanding
the blonde’s frustration. Seven had become accustomed to
Alexa’s memories providing information about things she had
never seen or experienced.
The Doctor walked through the forcefield
followed closely by Kes. “I believe you need these,” he
indicated the neatly folded stack of clothing in his arms.
There had been quite an argument between
them over his proposed choice of clothing for the former Borg.
The initial biosuit had been a skintight silver biomesh fabric
complete with matching two-inch high-heeled pointed toed shoes.
Alexa had taken one look at it and informed him that he was
absolutely not dressing Seven in it or at least not only in it,
and she was certainly not going to let him make Seven wear those
unhealthy shoes.
“But,” he defended, “I’ve seen several
women wearing these during their off duty times.”
Alexa stared at him, and then a
suspicion of an idea formed in her mind, she turned and looked
at Kes. There they were, the same type of shoes the Doctor
thought Seven should wear. She turned back to the EMH, “Your
right Doctor, but Seven’s used to flat-bottomed Borg body armor
boots, not heels, and you have to admit those aren’t the
healthiest shoes for someone to wear.”
“Well…no,” he agreed reluctantly.
Kes, who obviously realized she was the
Doctor’s source for shoe ideas, broke in, “Doctor I wear these
so I don’t feel so short all the time, but I don’t think Seven’s
going to have that problem.” The Ocampan smiled gently,
“Perhaps Alexa and I can take another look at the replicator
database and choose something more comfortable for her.”
“I suppose that would be alright,” he
sniffed and stalked off, “since my suggestions have been deemed
inadequate.”
The eventual results of their search now
resided in the Doctors arms: Flat-soled, soft-sided boots, a
dark grey jumpsuit with royal blue piping, a silver biosuit
designed to go underneath the jumpsuit, and a lumbar-sacral
brace. The latter the Doctor recommended along with
strengthening exercises until Seven’s muscles were used to
supporting her posture, until now that task had primarily been
performed by her Borg body armor.
Noticing Seven eyeing the clothing with
interest Alexa shook the sheet slightly, “Here hold this,” she
waited until the Borg had a hold on the sheet. Turning to the
Doctor she took the stack of clothing out of his arms and then
stared at him expectantly.
“What?” he asked defensively then realizing
that she was waiting for him to leave, “Really!” he exclaimed.
“You do remember I was the one who removed all her armor, and
anyway I’m a Doctor, I’m not going to look at her with prurient
interest!”
Since the clothing he had chosen seemed to
indicate otherwise, Alexa simply raised one eyebrow and gave him
a steely look.
He humped, “Oh very well, I’ll be in my
office when you are done.” Irritation obvious, he turned and
exited back through the forcefield.
“I need to monitor the nanoprobe
replication process,” Kes announced looking intently between the
two of them. She hovered there for a moment longer, a slightly
puzzled look upon her face before turning abruptly and walking
back though the forcefield, leaving them alone.
Alexa knew that Kes had empathic abilities,
and wondered if she had picked up on the attraction between her
and Seven. Before she could comment on the thought to Seven,
the blonde had dropped the sheet and slipped from the biobed to
stand beside her. Alexa froze, torn between turning and looking
her fill, and insisting that the other woman cover up before she
explained how the clothing was worn. She could hardly touch
Seven at the moment, and as soon as her own surgery was finished
the Borg had a 48 hour regeneration cycle. It would be two to
three very long days before she could be with Seven, and it
seemed as if knowing exactly what she couldn’t touch for that
length of time was certainly a type of finely honed torture.
Finally, even inevitably, she turned and
drew in a sharp breath at the sight that awaited her, pale skin,
interrupted here and there by strips of dermalplastic tape that
did not detract from Seven’s overall beauty. The full breasts
she had fleeting seen earlier, a trim slender waist, womanly
curved hips, and triangle of golden curls at the apex of slender
long legs that tapered into delicately trim ankles and feet.
Her eyes retraced their path, finally meeting blue ones, “You
are so beautiful,” she whispered reverently.
Seven’s eyes widened, she stared at Alexa
for a long moment then stepped toward her. Alexa promptly took
a step backward and snatched the first item on top of the pile
of clothing and held it up in front of her defensively. It was
the back support, “We can’t do this right now, you have to get
dressed,” she said pleadingly.
“You’re hands are trembling,” Seven
observed, but didn’t move toward her again.
Alexa looked, her hands were indeed
shaking.
“Of desire for me?” asked Seven, referring
to something the Pegasian had said when describing her first
intimate experience.
Alexa noted with a pang of arousal that her
voice had deepened ever so slightly. “Yes,” she admitted in a
whisper.
“Acceptable,” Seven replied.
Alexa absorbed the reply then she smiled
wryly, “I’m sure I will be much worse off by the time your
regeneration cycle is finally finished.”
Seven tilted her head slightly to the side
then apparently satisfied that she understood the statement she
turned her attention to the garment in Alexa’s hands. “This is
a supportive brace,” she stated curiously.
“Your armor provided a lot of your support,
especially for your back, the Doctor recommended this until you
build up your back and stomach muscles to better support your
spine,” Alexa explained.
Fifteen minutes later Seven was sealing the
opening of the jumpsuit together, staring down intently at the
fastening strips as she did so, strands of blonde hair hanging
down on either side of her face. She paused to push it back
behind her ears, an annoyed look on her face.
“Your hair bothering you?” asked Alexa.
“Yes,” Seven agreed, “I am unaccustomed to
it, it obscures my vision and the feel of it against my face is
distracting.”
Alexa considered her thoughtfully, “There
are some things we can do to help that, putting it in a bun,
using a hair band or barrette to restrain it your neck, or
braiding it, personally I think it would look best in a bun or
gathered at your neck.”
Seven remarked seeking confirmation, “The
latter is the method used by Captain Janeway.”
“Yes,” agreed Alexa, “Though she’s actually
had several different hairstyles over the past three years, but
that’s what she’s doing right now.”
Seven replied tersely, “Acceptable.”
The Pegasian gave her a concerned glance,
“You’re not alone Seven, and the adjustments to my neural
interface will be complete in just a few hours.” Alexa was
troubled, if Seven could not accept a few minutes of silence,
how would she handle the hours that would regularly occur each
day.
The Borg drew in a deep breath, “It is
difficult,” she admitted in a small voice, “I am reminded of
your injury and the destruction of…” her voice trailed off.
“The destruction of Unimatrix 01 and Borg
Prime,” Alexa finished softly for her. “I’m here Seven, alive
and well thanks to you, and you know I was also affected by
their loss.” The Pegasian berated herself for not realizing
that Seven’s problem was actually twofold, the silence in her
mind and the association of that silence with catastrophic and
terrifying events. She reached out and drew the Borg into a
reassuring hug. “Seven, nothing bad is going to happen, we’re
going to drop the privacy screen, fix your hair, you’re going to
help the Doctor and Kes with my surgery, and then we’re going to
our quarters where you’re going to start your regeneration
cycle.”
Seven’s arms tightened around her for a
moment then she pulled away, “Let us begin then,” she said
determinedly.
******************************************************
The first thing Alexa felt when she awoke
after the surgery was Seven’s relief at the renewed existence of
their neural link. ‘I guess everything went well then,’
she commented silently, still slightly dazed from the sedative.
‘Correct,’ replied Seven, ‘there
were no difficulties encountered in completing either
procedure. Now, what does a wheat field look like?’
Alexa was amused at Seven’s impatience; she
was barely awake. Yet she already knew which memory she wanted
to show the blonde. She was much younger, only ten Pegasian
years old; it was a beautiful sunny day with only a few wispy
white clouds in the sky. She was standing at the top of a
slight rise, and to every side there were fields of wheat
surrounding her. They flashed palely golden under the bright
sun with every breeze, and the scent of the ripened grain hung
delicately in the air. ‘That is a field of wheat,’ she
said over the link as she let the memory fade. She opened her
eyes, and after blinking at the brightness of the Sickbay
lights, focused on Seven.
‘You are correct, the wheat and my hair
are similar in color,’ Seven agreed after a moment of
consideration.
“How are you feeling Lieutenant?” asked the
Doctor, as he stepped beside her biobed, drawing her attention
away from the blonde.
“Fine,” she replied huskily. Lifting her
hand to examine where the implant had been, she was pleased to
note there was no remaining sign of it.
“Another excellent job if I do say so
myself,” the Doctor declared smugly.
Alexa felt Seven’s irritation and turned to
look at her, in anyone else it would have been a raised eyebrow,
but since the Borg was performing this action with her left eye,
she was actually raising the exterior portion of her optical
implant. Alexa found it charming, but she doubted the Doctor,
who was currently Seven’s target, found it so. In fact, she
thought, he looked rather intimidated.
“We did an excellent job, I mean,” he
hastily corrected himself.
Alexa smothered her grin as she sat up on
the biobed, glancing around the room she was pleased to note the
absence of the two security guards that had been there earlier.
“Anymore tests that need to be run before I take Seven to begin
her regeneration cycle?” she asked briskly. With the end in
sight, she was eager to get out of sickbay.
The Doctor replied, “No not today, but I’d
like for you to come in tomorrow for a follow-up Lieutenant. I
want to make sure your remaining implants are stable.”
“Alright,” she promptly agreed and hopped
down from the biobed to stand beside Seven. “Shall we?” she
asked her.
Seven nodded her acquiescence, as they
walked out of sickbay the Borg remarked over their link, ‘You
are amused, why?’
Alexa glanced at the woman walking beside
her; Seven had decided to wear her hair in a chignon, declaring
that the sensation of hair on her neck was too distracting.
Given that Seven was having enough of an adjustment already to
everything about her body changing, it wasn’t surprising to
Alexa that being constantly reminded of one of those changes was
one thing too many. Besides, Seven looked lovely with her
blonde hair up, and her long graceful neck exposed. Alexa
couldn’t help but think of how it would be to trail her lips
along the nape of that neck.
Seven gave her an intense look, ‘I was
not aware that area of the body was an erogenous zone.’
‘It’s not,’ agreed Alexa, ‘but
neither is a person’s back or fingers…’ she allowed her
mental voice to trail off suggestively.
Seven quirked her lips in a small smile, ‘you
are correct,’ she agreed, remembering.
‘As for why I am amused,’ Alexa
returned to Seven’s earlier question, ‘You look very
different than you did. I’m looking forward to seeing how the
people who couldn’t look beyond your armor and cybernetics to
see the woman underneath react to you now.’
‘You have consistently accurately
extrapolated my current appearance,’ Seven commented.
Alexa smiled, “Not quite,” she disagreed
quietly, “my imagination fell rather short of reality.”
Seven raised her implant, “Indeed,” she
replied. She might have suspected Alexa was being insincere if
it were not for the neural link between them. Remembering that
Alexa had still not explained her reasoning for her instructions
the day before in the Cargo Bay, she asked through their link, ‘You
promised earlier to explain to me why I was not to mention to
Crewmen Carson that I still consider myself to be Borg, but have
not had the opportunity to do so yet. Is there sufficient time
now?’
‘Yes,’ replied Alexa, ‘When
people have a strong emotional attachment to a particular idea
or belief, their pleasure center activates when they reject
any new evidence that their strongly held idea or belief is
incorrect.
[i] Are you familiar with this biological
process?’
‘I am, it is illogical, they are
rewarded for ignoring new information which may be more
accurate,’ Seven responded.
Alexa nodded, ‘It is illogical, but it
is also true. There are several people on this vessel who knew
someone who was killed or assimilated at Wolf 359. It is
reasonable to conclude they have a strong emotional attachment
to their beliefs about the nature of the Borg. Most people
think the Borg and the Collective are the same thing, I thought
that myself until I was assimilated and then regained my
individuality. I understand what you mean when you say you are
still Borg, but the average person on this crew would not
understand the difference between the two without extensive
explanations. I don’t want you to get lumped in their mind with
the Borg that they hate and fear before you ever have the chance
to have that conversation. If that happens it will be very
difficult to get them to rationally listen to the idea that the
Collective and an individual Borg are not always the same
entity.’
‘I believe I understand,’ replied
Seven after a moment, ‘I should not inform crewmembers I
consider myself to still be Borg unless I am certain that they
will not assume I mean I wish to rejoin the Collective.’
Seven hesitated thoughtfully then continued, ‘or that I still
believe assimilation is the appropriate way to gain perfection.’
Alexa looked at her compassionately, ‘yes,
exactly, just because you are Borg does not mean you wish to be
a part of the Collective anymore, or that you agree with their
current method of achieving perfection, or even if they can
achieve perfection by assimilating the known universe.’
They stopped in front of the turbolift, the
doors opened revealing Crewmen O’Donnell and Carlson. The two
crewmen stopped speaking abruptly, but Alexa didn’t think it was
because of the subject of their conversation. The two men
seemed stunned by their appearance, or more accurately by
Seven’s appearance. They stepped into the turbolift and Alexa
requested, “Deck Six.” Amused, she glanced once again at the
two crewmen, “Good afternoon Crewman O’Donnell, Crewman
Carlson,” she greeted them. They just had time to stutter out a
reply before the turbolift doors opened once again on Deck 6.
Over their neural link, Seven commented
sadly, ‘They were afraid of me.’
“No I don’t think they were,” Alexa
responded, “they didn’t draw back from you did they?”
Seven glanced at her uncertainly then
reviewed the data from her cortical node. “No they did not, but
their heart rates were elevated, their muscles were tensed, and
their pupils dilated, all indicative of a hormonal stimulus
response.”
Alexa chuckled, “Well that’s probably
true,” she paused in the middle of the corridor. Seven stopped
as well and looked at her puzzled. “Just not a fight or flight
one,” Alexa continued.
Seven’s eyes widened as she realized from
the link what Alexa meant, “You believe they were sexually
attracted to me.”
Alexa grinned, “As I said, they were indeed
fascinated by you, but they weren’t afraid of you.” She
indicated the door they had just stopped in front of, “These are
our quarters, Deck 6 Section 14.” She typed in their access
code into the door control panel and the door opened. Voyager’s
double occupancy quarters had a short, narrow entryway between
the door and main room designed to provide some privacy if the
other occupant was sleeping or getting dressed when the second
person entered.
As soon as the door closed behind the two
of them, Seven seized Alexa from behind and pulled her tightly
against her, one hand splayed temptingly low on her stomach, the
other immediately cupping and caressing one breast. Seven had
wanted to touch Alexa ever since the Pegasian’s reaction to the
sight of her nude body in Sickbay. That desire had not lessened
during their trip through the ship, but instead had increased
steadily. No longer separated from Alexa by thick, impenetrable
armor, but only by thin, pliable clothing, the Borg reveled in
the feel and warmth of the darker woman’s body against her own,
With a low moan, Alexa arched back against Seven, resting her
head on the blonde’s shoulder. The Borg did not hesitate, but
begin tasting and nipping hungrily at the length of neck now
offered to her.
“Oh!” a shocked feminine voice abruptly
intruded. Jarred out of the sexual haze they had fallen into,
Seven and Alexa startled, staring at the end of the entryway
where Marie Hickman now stood. Reluctantly Seven released Alexa.
“Marie, what are you doing here?” Alexa
asked, confused and dismayed at this breach of her and Seven’s
privacy.
“We just finished installing Seven’s
alcove,” The short brunette explained in a rush, “and decided to
wait so she could look it over and let us know if anything was
wrong.” She blushed furiously, “I err… didn’t think you would
mind. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” Chapman appeared beside
Hickman, and was soon followed by Vorik.
Alexa shook her head, reminding herself
that these were her friends; she didn’t need to guard her
privacy as stringently with them as she had ever since the
Academy. “It’s alright. I just didn’t know you were in here is
all.” She half turned and motioned for Seven to come up beside
her, “But while you are, everyone meet Seven, and Seven this is
Ensign Marie Hickman, Lt. William Chapman and Ensign Vorik.
They along with Lt. Susan Nicoletti… and of course you now, are
my closest friends on Voyager.” The three murmured appropriate
greetings while looking at Seven with frank curiosity.
As soon as the introductions were done,
Vorik, ever practical, promptly held out an engineering
tricorder, “Would you confirm that your alcove is functioning
properly,” he asked.
Seven, relieved to have something easily
understandable to do, accepted it and slipped around the
entryway wall. She curiously noted the unopened boxes stacked
beside one of the narrow beds, and then made her way to where
her alcove was installed against the far right corner of the
rectangular room. All around the alcove wall panels had been
removed, revealing the underlying supports, bulkhead, and
conduits. Seven began there first, checking the power
converters, which adapted Voyager’s EPS to a power source
suitable for a Borg alcove.
“As soon as you’re satisfied with it we
will reinstall the room panels, then it will look a lot better,”
Chapman assured her.
Seven barely spared him a glance before
continuing with her task. She considered it self-evident that
they would replace the panels, and wasn’t sure why he had made
the statement.
Knowing that talkativeness was a sign of
nervous behavior for Will, Alexa sought to reassure him. “I
would appreciate that,” she commented drawing his attention away
from Seven and the Borg’s ignoring of him and his unnecessary
comment.
“The alcove is functioning properly,” Seven
announced a few moments later. Alexa caught her eye, looked at
her expectantly. Seven stared at her for a moment confused,
then recalling their discussion on social behavior added
belatedly, “Thank you.”
Alexa smiled gently, ‘Don’t worry with
practice it will become what is normal, instead of uncomfortable
and strange,’ she silently reassured the Borg over their
link. Seven shot her a dubious look, but did not say anything.
Marie and Will replied, “You’re welcome,”
while Vorik responded with a more formal, “You are welcome.”
The three quickly and efficiently began replacing the room
panels hiding the conduits in the walls. Within a few moments
they were completely finished.
Looking around uncertainly, Chapman
hesitantly asked, “I guess we will see you again in 48 or so
hours?”
Seven glanced quickly at Alexa, mildly
alarmed at this prospect. She did not want to be impolite but
she already had other plans for the time immediately following
the ending of her regeneration cycle, and those plans certainly
did not include anyone or anything else other than Alexa.
“Sorry Will, Seven and I need some time
together, we will probably see you the following morning, maybe
we can get together for breakfast before our duty shift,” Alexa
calmly explained.
“Oh,” he paused frowning, “why do you…”
That was as far as he got before Marie
interrupted him, “Sure Alexa, ok guys I think it’s time we
left.” The brunette grabbed Chapman’s arm, “Vorik get our
tools,” she ordered as she began enthusiastically pulling him
after her.
“Marie, what are you doing?” Chapman
protested as he bemusedly allowed the woman to pull him along
behind her.
Just before the door closed behind them,
Seven heard Marie say, “I’ll explain in a bit Will.”
Baffled at their behavior, Seven turned and
looked inquiringly at Alexa and Vorik. Alexa looked amused, and
Vorik was staring after his two friends with one raised
eyebrow. Seven assumed his expression indicated that he was
just as confused by their behavior as she was. With a slight
shrug, he knelt and began gathering the various engineering
tools scattered about where they had been working and placing
them in the appropriate engineering kits.
Alexa considered the Vulcan for a moment,
and then looked at Seven. Over their neural link she asked, ‘Do
you mind me telling him our friendship is not platonic?’
Seven gave the question some consideration,
understanding that Alexa was reticent about discussing her
relationships after her experiences at the Academy. ‘I will
leave the decision to you. I have no objections to him knowing
the nature of our relationship.’
The Pegasian nodded, turning back to the
kneeling Vulcan she said, “Vorik,” to catch his attention. When
he looked up curiously she continued, “Seven and I are lovers as
well as friends.”
He blinked once, and his eyebrows rose for
a moment before returning to their usual position. “That is why
you wish an evening together,” he mused.
“Yes,” answered Alexa succinctly.
He looked between them, “Understandable,
and may I offer my congratulations, I know you have felt very
alone at times Alexa.”
“Thank you, and yes I have,” she responded.
Tools now all returned to their appropriate
kits, he stood, “Good night,” he offered politely.
“Night, Vorik,” Alexa replied.
A second behind her Seven also replied,
“Good night, Vorik.” He nodded and promptly left.
Seven stared in acute frustration at Alexa,
knowing what the Pegasian was about to say, and knowing that she
could not argue with the other woman’s reasoning.
“It’s too dangerous, you’ve had major
surgery today and need to heal, not to mention you need to
regenerate to make sure your implants recover from all the
modifications we’ve done to them,” Alexa argued softly and with
honest regret. She could feel Seven’s frustration, her arousal
and desire, and they fueled her own desires, but her fear of
hurting Seven was much greater.
Seven remained silent, for she could not
disagree. Nevertheless, she wanted to touch Alexa, she wanted
to experience what it would feel like for Alexa to touch her now
that there was no Borg body armor preventing it, and she did not
want to wait 48 more hours to experience either. In one quick
move, she pulled Alexa against her and claimed the Pegasian’s
lips and mouth with her own. She did not hesitate, but
possessively and commandingly delved deeply into the mouth
underneath her own. Finally, the Borg tore herself away with
one last nip to Alexa’s lower lip. Breathing heavily she
instructed the Pegasian, “You will insure that you have
satisfied your need for sleep and food before I exit my
regeneration cycle.”
With those words, she released Alexa,
turned to her alcove and entered in the commands for her long
regeneration cycle, and with one last smoldering look at the
still recovering Pegasian, she stepped back into its embrace.
[i] Carey, B. (2006, January 24). A
Shocker: Partisan Thought Is Unconscious. Retrieved
Febuary 25, 2007, from New York Times: http://www.nytimes.com/2006/01/24/science/24find.html?ex=1172552400&en=d81239c08c4e2a71&ei=5070
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