Work Text:
Seven walked swiftly down the near-empty halls to Tuvok’s quarters. Her heels made a satisfying clacking noise against the floor’s surface. A pleasure. She was cataloging pleasurable sensations, sights, sounds, in order to figure out things she ‘liked’ outside of work. When she was not working she found it difficult to know where and how to spend her time and usually reverted to working secretly somewhere the captain would not find and stop her or simply going into stasis until her next shift.
It was from such a stasis that she had just awoken and something was on her mind. A conversation she had had with the doctor nearly two days ago (a full 48 hour cycle had not yet elapsed). They had finished one of their lessons and she had been invited to stay and ‘chat’ which she had initially gone to refuse, seeing no reason to do so. However, remembering that sometimes information gathered through ‘chatting’ proved useful, she’d accepted and sat down across from him.
The doctor had been painting his nails in a manner of speaking. He’d been tampering with his program in order to change his appearance, a clear coat of polish that sparkled subtly in the light appearing on one nail at a time. Seven watched this with a mild interest as the doctor relayed meaningless gossip to her. Then he said something curious.
“You should be careful about spending so much time with a married man, Seven.”
“Why, Is it dangerous?” Seven asked, intrigued. She did not see what added advantage being married might have in a combat situation but then again it was a partnership. But no, Tuvok’s wife was not currently on Voyager so in a sense it was as if he were single. T’Pel would be of no use to him.
“No! Have you been listening to me?” The doctor asked, exasperated. Seven appreciated his plain, big emotions as much as she found them tiresome. She never had to guess at what he was feeling. If she couldn’t guess by his almost cartoonish expressions then he would simply tell her, sometimes in excruciating detail.
“There seemed to be no need.” Seven explained.
The doctor rolled his eyes theatrically. “Right, well! I was just telling you that ensign Park has been seen acting in a more than friendly manner with ensign Hammond - who of course is married to Lieutenant Greshnir.”
“Is ensign Park pursuing a relationship with Hammond despite this commitment?” Seven asked.
The doctor threw a hand into the air. “Who knows! What matters is what people think is happening.”
Seven frowned. “That is untrue. What people think is irrelevant to the truth of the matter. I will ask ensign Park about this the next time we meet.”
The doctor groaned. “No, Seven don’t-!”
Their ‘chat’ had devolved after that and Seven had gone back into stasis but the thought hung over her head, bothering her. She disliked being bothered, especially within her own mind. External stimuli could be removed. For example, when she disliked a conversation she could end it. She could not end the thought that plagued her so she engaged with it.
Thought: People might begin to or already do perceive your relationship with Tuvok as romantic in some manner.
This was untrue and so it should not bother her. However it did. It bothered her a great deal. Perhaps she would speak with Tuvok about it. Seven often found that when things troubled her internally and persistently that speaking to another person, chiefly Janeway, sometimes helped. She did not enjoy the process as she disliked being unsure but the result was worth it.
She pressed the button in front of Tuvok’s quarters.
Tuvok answered after the second buzz.
Seven stood there, posture stiff as always. She rolled her shoulders back further at his appearance, frowning. He was wearing pajamas with a heavy shawl wrapped around his shoulders. His eyes were squinting at the sudden influx of light.
“Is this a bad time?” She asked.
Tuvok stepped aside. “No, come in.”
He cleared his throat, his voice had been low and softer than usual with sleep. Seven wondered if this was an intimate situation. A situation similar took place in much of the media the doctor consumed.
Woman: Can I come in?
Man: Sure.
Woman: I am cold from the inclement weather.
Man: I will use my body heat to warm you as a gesture of affection.
Woman: I love you.
Man: I love you too. Let’s kiss.
“You were asleep.” Seven said as she stepped into the room, a statement of fact. Tuvok’s room is full of many different types of plants, all of which could thrive outside of an airponics bay and do. He took careful care of them. They in tandem with the candles he burns during meditation give the room a strange smell which she doesn’t quite recognize. Her mind supplied her with the words: ‘Earthy - of Earth’ and ‘Natural - of Nature’.
“Yes. My shift is not until noon.” Tuvok said, the two of them making their way to Tuvok’s bedroom where Seven sat on the chair at the foot of his bed.
Tuvok went into the bathroom which is off of the bedroom and connected to the captain’s quarters. He was quiet as he gathered up the necessary materials and returned, holding the handle so that the door closed silently.
He deposited the necessary materials onto the bed and climbed on himself, letting his shawl fall around his hips as he undid Seven’s hair and began brushing it. It had gotten longer than she preferred but not long enough to become bothersome. When it did he might cut it for her. Was it inappropriate for her to be in a bedroom with him? She did not think Tuvok would allow for inappropriate behaviour to go uncommented on.
“Am I disturbing you?” She asked anyway. “I do not require your assistance. You require sleep.”
“I do not require sleep as Vulcans are able to go several weeks without sleeping.” Tuvok replied. The brush running through her hair was a pleasant sensation. Tuvok was not too gentle with his movements. Seven did not like gentle little touches, hesitant stammering, tiny expressions that could mean anything.
“Then why do you do it?” She asked, momentarily distracted by this new line of questioning.
“For the same reason I meditate consistently. To keep a schedule and regulate my mood.” Tuvok said. “Is something troubling you?”
“Yes.” Seven admitted, there was no reason to hide it. “Are you attracted to me?”
“No.” Tuvok told her after a beat of surprise. “I am puzzled by the question.”
“By its meaning?”
“I will clarify. I am puzzled why you are questioning such a thing.”
Seven winced as Tuvok’s brush became snagged on a knot of blonde hair. He set the tool aside and bent over to untangle it by hand instead. “The doctor informed me that others might believe our relationship to be romantic in nature.” Seven told him.
“The doctor has a colorful imagination,” Tuvok said in a tone that communicated a clear distaste for any imagination, let alone a colorful one.
Seven enjoyed Tuvok’s company. He was a reprieve from humanity. Humanity was tiring at times. It made her feel hopeless, confused, angry. She and Tuvok did not demand humanity from one another.
“However, if it makes you uncomfortable we could cease our meetings at any time.” Tuvok continued.
Seven considered it. It would be an easy solution to the problem.
Thought: People might begin to or already do perceive your relationship with Tuvok as romantic in some manner.
Solution: End your relationship with Tuvok.
Yet that did not satisfy her. The thought angered her, in fact. “I do not wish to do that. I am not uncomfortable with you. I am uncomfortable with the perception.” Tuvok didn’t reply to that, focused on the task at hand or simply allowing her to speak out loud. That was a very inhuman reaction, non-reaction. Humans reacted to everything. She could not cough without a human responding, believing it was about them, an attempt to communicate. She reminded herself that she was a human. It did not feel like it often.
“I must change the perception.” Seven decided. “Perhaps a form of public address?”
“That would not be wise. It might capture the attention of those who were unaware of such rumors and, in my experience, humans are not a direct species. Even when things are stated plainly they look for hidden meanings where there are none. A public address might only…’stir things up’.” He said, quoting someone. Seven guessed Janeway.
“What would you suggest then?” She asked.
“I would suggest not engaging with such things. They have a tendency to dissipate on their own. Like a fire, without being stoked it will eventually burn itself out.” Tuvok advised, brushing her hair once again. Seven could tell they were nearing the end of the task because he was pausing less as her knots vanished and the brush glided smoothly through.
Tuvok’s solution was sound but it did not solve what was bothering her. She frowned in thought then remembered something the doctor had told her. “Tuvok, are you attracted to women?”
Tuvok did not pause before answering the question, leaving no room for argument. “I am attracted to she who is my wife, T’Pel.”
“If you were not attracted to women then our relationship would not be in danger of being perceived as romantic.” Seven explained in lieu of arguing, having no room to.
“Do you believe this perception to be a threat?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Your word choice and general anxiety around the subject indicates it to me.” Tuvok told her.
Anxiety. Seven knew what that was. The doctor had medication for it. Was she anxious? She did not often feel…anxious. It was not a pleasant feeling. She explained haltingly that it bothered her, their relationship being misconstrued, but she didn’t know why.
“Perhaps you do not wish for our relationship to be tainted.” Tuvok suggested.
It reminded her of something else the doctor said, the thing that had spurred her to ask about Tuvok’s sexuality: “Any man in his right mind would want you, Seven.”
“Does that mean you…want me, doctor?” She’d asked haltingly and he’d waved the thought away.
“I’m a doctor, not a man.” He’d told her.
She and the doctor had more in common than she had with other humans. They had that same shade-removed from humanity air about them. Only the doctor was not pestered as she was, perhaps he had been before she’d come aboard Voyager. Tuvok had told her about how he was pestered when he first joined starfleet as a young man, so much so that he began to hate humanity despite his parents’ belief in their potential, in the potential and duty of all species to work harmoniously together.
Seven thought humanity had a borg-like tendency towards homogeny.
Tuvok tied her hair back up into its complicated tight updo and stood, waiting for her to sit on the bed as he took the small clear bag of makeup he’d designated for her after the first few visits. She remembered how long it used to take them to get through the routine. Seven flinching and pushing his hand away and him remaining silent through it. He didn’t show his frustration except for small sighs and glances towards the clock if it became late and interrupted his own time to get ready for the day. So she began to come earlier.
She liked wearing makeup. Many crewmen wore makeup and it was good to fit in with other crewmen.
Tuvok sat down in front of her and adjusted the angle of her face, peering down at her before deciding what to use. “The usual?” He asked, wiping her face down with a damp cloth before beginning.
Seven nodded curtly.
She liked wearing makeup but she didn’t particularly enjoy the process of putting it on. It was not something she would dedicate valuable space in her mind to learn on her own. Her going to Tuvok was initially a tactical choice. She wanted makeup on but didn’t want to learn, Tuvok knew how to wear makeup and was the least likely to object to her proposal, simple. But over the months of coming to his quarters it had begun to soften into something else, something gentler.
Tuvok silently applied foundation to her skin, carefully adding blush and wiping it away when he felt it was too noticeable. He told her to close her eyes as he applied a pale eyeshadow, thumb braced against her jaw, her chin tucked into his curled pointer finger.
Seven wondered if this was what it was like to have a mother.
“Did your mother teach you how to apply makeup?” Seven asked.
Tuvok didn’t reply until after he was done with the eyeshadow, telling her to open her eyes and squinting to determine if he should add more or start again. “...No,” he told her, deciding it looked acceptable. “I taught myself during my years at the academy.”
Seven knew she had a human, biological mother. Someone who had given birth to her and loved her until the age of six. She knew this and yet she did not remember what it might have felt like to be held by her, loved by her.
A thought intruded into her mind, an image of the borg queen, the humming press of the collective. That was her mother. She had come from the collective’s womb anew and been torn from it, cord snipped, alone.
“I do not appreciate the thought that you might view me in a romantic or sexual manner.” Seven said.
“That is obvious.” Tuvok told her.
“I enjoy how uncomplicated our relationship is. We understand one another well. I would not enjoy it if that were to change.” She was dancing around the reason, anxious. When she moved around the ship, eyes followed her, she had learned to crouch rather than to bend. Tuvok’s eyes being one of the pairs that lingered was…a disconcerting thought. It upset her greatly. She reminded herself that this was not the case.
She watched as Tuvok selected a tube of eyeliner, he paused and stared down at his hand before continuing. “Nor would I.”
Seven thought again about Mothers. Tuvok had been raised by a mother, one as dispassionate as he was. Mothers, parents, passed parts of themselves down to their children.
The collective came back to her. It was not love, it was no emotion. It was need and here and this and that. It was direction and purpose and nothing else but she was a part of it. She was a part of something so great she did not need to be.
No one on Voyager would understand such feelings. Not even Tuvok, but he would not condemn them. His eyes would not become fear-widened when she stated them.
“I miss the collective at times. Being an individual is…exhausting. Pointless.” She said, frowning slightly. Tuvok told her to look up as he applied her eyeliner and she did so.
“Vulcans, when born, become part of a large and complex web of familial bonds. These bonds remain with us throughout our lives.” Tuvok explained, pausing to allow Seven to blink before doing the other eye. “In that way we are part of a collective. However, we also build our individual identities. All species I have encountered belong to some form of a ‘collective’, though not all would call it that. Humans, in particular, while espousing the joys of individualism, are very reliant on others and highly value community.”
Seven considered this. “Has your bond been similarly severed to your collective?”
“Yes.” Tuvok said.
“I'm...sorry.” Seven said, seeming to struggle with the word. It was out of place. She wondered if he had done his children’s makeup as he did hers. He had told her he had four. He told her about them sporadically but she remembered every detail he shared, feeling it was important for how rare it was.
Sek took dance lessons throughout his childhood.
Elieth went through a phase of incessantly using old terran slang such as ‘what’s up’ in lieu of ‘hello’.
Asil had once stayed up a week straight reading the entirety of a human book series: Nancy Drew.
Varith slept with a stuffed toy until he was thirteen years old.
She wondered about what love was. Was knowing those facts love? Did she love Tuvok’s children? Knowing facts could not be love, humans did not talk about love in such a way. It was an emotion, a feeling that took you over. Even Tuvok did not speak of love in that way. It was a part of him, his love for his family - not an emotion but not a factual list of traits and events either.
Seven did not want to be in love. It seemed complicated. She was fine with her…interest in people. In her exploration of such things when it suited her.
“You are done,” Tuvok told her, gathering up the makeup he’d used on her and placing it back in the small bag. Seven got up and followed him into the bathroom, the two of them examining themselves in the mirror.
Sometimes Seven left right after her makeup was finished but here she lingered, stepping aside as Tuvok began his own routine. She had no reason to leave. Her shift did not start for another hour or so and if she waited and they both had time they might be able to eat together.
She watched silently as Tuvok washed and dried his face, inspecting it before putting on foundation. He was much quicker than when he did the same for her, taking more care in the task. The two of them remained quiet until there was a shuffling from the door closest to the sink and Seven stepped closer to Tuvok to clear the way.
The captain blinked blearily at her for a moment before a smile rose to her face. “Seven! What a pleasant surprise, I thought I heard your voice.”
“Then it is not a surprise.” Seven observed.
Janeway laughed. “I guess not. Good morning, and good morning to you too Tuvok.”
“Do you require use of the facilities, captain?” Tuvok asked, trying to apply his liner without stretching the skin around his eyes.
Janeway shook her head. “Just wanted to join the party. It’s more fun than getting ready in my room all alone.”
Tuvok raised a brow at the descriptor ‘party’ but didn’t comment further on it. Seven, however, tilted her head curiously.
“Party?” She asked.
Janeway brushed her hair while sitting on the edge of the tub. The bathroom was larger than one that could be found in a crewman’s quarters but with three people it felt…intimate. Seven scanned the room and decided on standing near the open door to Tuvok’s room in order to give the commanding officers some space.
“Yes, just an expression in this case. Any group of people can be a party if you like them well enough.” Janeway said, looking up with a smile. “And I like you two very much.”
Seven felt herself warm, standing taller at the compliment. Tuvok did not appear phased by the affection, frowning at how crooked he’d drawn the line dashing from the corner of his eye and rubbing it off to begin again.
“Captain, have you ever been in love?” Seven asked.
Janeway’s eyes widened and she shared a look with Tuvok before laughing. “Where’s this coming from?”
“I am curious as to the different forms of love which others experience. Your answer?” Seven asked again.
Janeway raised her hands in surrender. “Well yes, of course…many times. Humans are always in love with something.”
Tuvok made a noise of agreement and Janeway shot him an amused look.
Seven considered Janeway’s words. “Tom Paris once claimed to be in love with the delta flyer. Much to Lieutenant B’Elanna’s upset.”
Janeway laughed again. She seemed different in the mornings, looser. Seven had not had the chance to observe her before she left for the bridge and she decided it was a pleasant experience. She was still in her pajamas as was Tuvok, his a formal-looking robe and hers a worn shapeless gown.
“Have you fallen in love yet, Seven?” Janeway asked, standing and looking at herself in the mirror as Tuvok leaned away to give her more space. It was an easy, unconscious gesture, the two maneuvering around one another as if they could read each other’s thoughts. Seven had no such grace with others. She often collided with those who did not move in time.
“I have not.” Seven said. She looked down at Janeway’s hand which the captain had extended towards her, fingers flexing towards her palm then out again. “Captain?”
“Come here for a second,” Janeway said and Seven obliged her, walking forward. Janeway took her hand and Seven realized that was why she’d extended hers out. “Tell me if you can feel something here?”
She placed Seven’s fingers on her face. Seven could feel Janeway’s cheekbone from under her skin. She cleared her throat and stood taller, she’d begun to lean towards the other woman.
“I believe I feel a…small bump?” She said. It was very small, so small she was not quite sure it was there at all.
Janeway threw a hand up. “Perfect,” she said, squinting at the spot in the mirror. Seven’s hand fell to her side before she raised it behind her back again.
“If you adhered more strictly to a balanced diet and sleep pattern your skin would not break out as often as it does.” Tuvok pointed out.
Janeway rolled her eyes, the argument obviously one they’d had before. Seven did not understand why two people who enjoyed each other so much would bicker but it seemed to be a trait across many species. Friends, lovers, close co-workers, they all partook in such verbal sparring.
“Can I borrow a facemask?” Janeway asked, stepping onto the edge of the tub. Seven rushed to her side and observed her, ready to catch her if she fell from such a precarious position.
“You may.” Tuvok replied, finishing his makeup and raising a brow at Seven. Seven returned the gesture, the two of them as confused by the captain as they were amused by her. “I am going to change.” Tuvok said, leaving and closing the door to his bedroom.
“There we g- ah! Seven!” Janeway exclaimed, pitching herself backwards only to be grabbed and steadied by the other woman. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”
Seven frowned. “Do you need to visit sickbay? Ah, no. A hyperbole. I merely surprised you.”
Janeway smiled and patted her shoulder, stepping down. “You’re learning.”
“I have no choice. Such statements are common aboard Voyager.” Seven said.
Janeway stepped through the door to her bedroom and leaned forward, tossing the facemask onto her bed before leaning back into the bathroom and beginning to brush her teeth.
“Seven, can you grab something for me?” She asked after rinsing out her mouth and beginning to apply her own makeup.
“Yes?”
“I left my lipstick on the nightstand, can you-?”
“Right away.” Seven said, already walking through the door.
Janeway’s quarters were messier than Tuvok’s but neater than others Seven had seen. There were errant papers and a glowing PADD on the end of her bed and clothing piling up on a chair in the corner.
Seven glanced down at the PADD, it was a series of messages between her and Chakotay about nothing much at all. Seven shut the device off as it was on unnecessarily. She looked at the nightstand and saw the tube of lipstick, it was next to a potted plant which Seven assumed had been given to the captain by Tuvok. There was an inscription carved into the pot, written in Vulcan symbols: To a Dear Friend.
Seven walked back into the bathroom to find Tuvok present again, braiding the Captain’s hair as she looked smug. Seven handed the lipstick to her and her eyes widened with pleasure. “Thank you, Seven. You look nice today.”
“Thank you, Captain. I have just finished having my makeup done.” She said. She wondered why Janeway would have her lipstick outside the bathroom. Perhaps she wanted to get ready for a meeting without Tuvok’s knowledge?
“By Tuvok?” She turned to look behind her, much to the Vulcan’s muted annoyance. “You always refuse to do my makeup.” She said with an arched brow.
“Because there is no need. You have both the knowledge and the means to do your own.” Tuvok pointed out. “Turn around, please. Or we will be late.”
Janeway tilted her head and pouted for a moment before turning back around and allowing her friend to finish the braid. Seven watched this curiously. Surely Janeway could also do her own hair, if not in a braid then in another style as she often cycled through them. However she did not point this out.
“Tuvok, have you ever been in love?” Janeway asked. Tuvok’s hands stilled for a moment and she smiled into the mirror. “Just to round it out. And your wife is a given.”
“...Twice. Once as a child and once while in the academy.” Tuvok said.
Seven grew curious, leaning forward. He had not shared this fact with her in his previous recountings of life at the academy. “With whom?”
“Yes, don’t spare us the details, Lieutenant.” Janeway said, amused by both Seven’s apparent interest and Tuvok’s gentle exasperation with the questioning.
“A bajoran by the name of Itek Hiw.” Tuvok answered. “He and I were often paired together as we preferred silence to the incessant conversation of our peers.”
Seven blinked. He? “You stated you were attracted to women.”
“I stated that I am attracted to my wife.” Tuvok clarified, going over a section of the braid he’d done too loosely for his taste the first time. “While I am currently bonded to my wife and thus unavailable to all others, I developed feelings for both male and female peers in my youth.”
“Did you learn makeup due to your attraction towards Itek Hiw?” Seven asked, almost cutting Tuvok off in her eagerness to know if her hypothesis was correct.
Tuvok’s hands paused again and he stared down at them for a moment. Janeway’s mouth fell open, her lips quirking up into a smile as she met Seven’s eyes in the mirror. Seven took a deep breath, standing proudly. She had figured something out about Tuvok and it was amusing to Janeway. It was a pleasant moment and it passed quickly as the Vulcan finished the braid with a haste he hadn’t previously displayed.
“I will meet you on the bridge, Captain.” Tuvok said, stepping away.
“Oh? Not going to answer Seven’s question?” Janeway teased, spinning around and leaning her back against the sink.
Tuvok’s eyes looked off to the side at nothing in particular. “I do not believe it is necessary,” he said before nodding towards the both of them and vanishing behind the door to his quarters.
Janeway laughed and Seven frowned slightly, turning to her. “Did I say something offensive?”
“Hm? Oh no, he just got flustered is all.” Janeway reassured her.
Seven did not know what it was to be flustered. She would check on the Lieutenant’s state as soon as it was appropriate to ensure there had been no damage to their relationship. “I should also leave.” she told the captain.
Janeway nodded, sighing. “Another day…” she turned to Seven and smiled, eyes alight. “I think it’s going to be a good one, don’t you?”
Seven blinked, taken aback by her apropos-of-nothing-optimism. She thought of her and the captain and Tuvok in the bathroom, a small collective, moving together and around each other, one. She thought of all of Voyager working towards the single-minded goal of home and how she too was working towards it, a different kind of home than the rest of them but in the same direction. She was building home here, aboard the ship, with everyone on it. Every single day she was building it and one day she was confident she would be able to stand back and be satisfied with the results. Perhaps she would have others standing with her when the time came.
“Yes,” She nodded after considering it. “I agree.”