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“Janeway out.”
She smiled in satisfaction. Seven of Nine had just agreed to meet her in her ready room in half an hour.
Kathryn Janeway tapped her comm badge again. “Janeway to Chakotay. Please report to my ready room, Commander.”
They were almost home. In just a few hours, they’d be orbiting Earth after a brutal seven-year battle.
She had accomplished almost everything she wanted. The Maquis would go free, with the option to remain in Starfleet. The Doctor had been declared sentient. Seven and Icheb were free to live their lives.
But she and Chakotay were not to be. He was involved with Seven, and she had lost him.
She had never been particularly good at losing. Not to the Kazon, the Devore, the Hirogen or the Borg.
She thought about her wins and losses as Chakotay rambled on about his plans and Seven and teaching at the academy.
And Seven.
Some angry warrior, she thought, and checked the clock.
Fifteen minutes. She fixed Chakotay with a sultry stare.
It didn’t take much, not with that ego, and her breathy offer to tell him goodbye properly.
And with five minutes to go, she was on her knees, his impressive cock rigid in her mouth as she tongued him mercilessly.
He moaned and jerked under her, wound his hands in her hair and was pledging his undying love as Seven, who never did learn how to knock, strode confidently into Janeway’s ready room.
Right on time.
Janeway released Chakotay’s cock with a pop. Seven stood tall and furious; Chakotay paled even as his cock stood purple with need and shiny with Janeway’s saliva.
“Seven. Time for you to finish what I started,” she said pleasantly. “Again.”
And she strolled onto her bridge. Tuvok and Kim gaped at her in surprise as Seven’s furious shrieks rang out from the ready room.
“Goddamn right I beat the Borg,” she pronounced. “Again.”
It was good to be home.