Title:   Adaptations
Name:  Jules
Rating:  PG-15 for now
Disclaimer:  Obviously, I don’t own any of the characters, no matter how much I WISH I did. 
Classification:  (P/7, Naomi, and more!)
Summary:   (Post Bliss) Tom, Seven, and Naomi are attacked while on an educational trip in a shuttle. All three lose their memories due to an alien scan . . . Will Voyager be able to find them?
Status:  Unfinished

 By Jules 

  Chapter   1  

Tom Paris stormed out of B'Elanna Torres’ quarters, mad as hell. This was the last time, the LAST time. After yet ANOTHER fight with the half-Klingon, Tom realized that he just couldn’t deal with it anymore No matter what he said, what he did, she always found something to fight about. He’d had enough of that while he was growing up. Tom Paris may have been a glutton for punishment, but he was done. 

And he told the engineer as much. He needed some downtime . . . what to do, what to do . . . . A grin decorated his face.

“Computer, locate Naomi Wildman.”

“Naomi Wildman is in Astrometrics.”


Seven and Naomi were “working”. In other words, Seven was doing her job, while Naomi prattled on. Though it was obvious from the discrete glances she took of Naomi, with a slight smile on her face, she was enjoying the girl’s company. 

Naomi looked up as the entrance whooshed open. 

“Ah, there’s my favorite co-pilot!” Tom greeted, coming in smiling. 

“Tom!” Naomi ran over to his outstretched arms. 

Seven watched the scene with veiled amusement. 

Tom nodded in her direction, “Seven.”

“Ensign Paris.” Seven acknowledged. 

“Tom, please.” He beseeched, inspecting her beauty yet again.

Naomi demanded his attention once more, impatient to know, “So what did the Captain say?”

“About what?” Tom questioned. 

“About flying! Can we go on another mission?”

“Oh, well, the Captain says you may, provided your mother approves kiddo.”

“You’d come too, wouldn’t you Seven?” Naomi requested. 

“I am unsure my duties will allow it.” Seven answered quickly. 

Tom go in on the act, “Oh come on Seven,” He put Naomi down and took a few steps toward her, “I checked, I know you’ve got plenty of leave stored up. It’ll be fun!”

“Fun is irrelevant.” Seven responded. 

Naomi decided it was time to pull out the big guns, she put her hands beneath her back and looked up at the former-drone with puppy-dog eyes, “Please Seven, for me?”

“Yeah Seven, for us?” Tom jumped in, giving her one of his genuine smiles, guarantied to make women melt. 

“Well . . . someone has to make sure Naomi Wildman returns on time and learns for this experience.” Seven conceded, finally giving in, and creating an excuse for herself. 

“Great!” Tom exclaimed, “I’ll talk to the Captain and tell you when we can leave.” 

“Mr. Paris, it is unwise to plan for venture until we get Naomi Wildman’s mother’s permission.”

“Oh come on Seven, who do you know that can resist this face?”

“Many.” Seven replied, raising her eyebrow, then returning to her work. 

  ** Later that day ** 

Tom returned to Astrometrics, a pleased look on his face. He found Seven still hard at work. 

“Naomi’s mom agreed, we’re all set to go in five days. Sam just made me promise to have Naomi home by bedtime this time.”

Seven nodded her head, “Acknowledged.”

Tom leaned against the wall near where Seven was working, “So, what are you working on?”

“I am trying to increase the distance of the long range sensors.”

“I didn’t know the Captain was unhappy with the way they are.” Tom commented frowning. 

“She’s not.”

“So, basically, you’re creating work for yourself. Why don’t you relax, goof off a bit!”

“That is an inefficient use of my time.” Seven replied, frowning herself. 

Tom shook his head, “No it’s not. Stop working, join me for dinner.”

“I do not believe that is, a good idea.”

“Seven . . . listen, you’ve got to eat, why not socialize while you do? You can work on your social kills, and get your nutritional supplements at the same time.” Tom swiftly came up with another proposal, “We can discuses the ‘mission’ we have with Naomi and plot a course that will optimize the learning potential.”

Seven looked up from her PADD, and nodded her head, “A satisfactory plan. I will download the area of space we will encounter into another PADD.”


 ** The Mess Hall ** 

Tom told Seven to choose a seat while he got them their trays. 

While Seven was waiting for Tom to return with their meals, Harry Kim came up to her table.

“Hello Seven. May I join you?” He questioned eagerly. 

Before Seven could reply, Tom comes up with their trays and sits down. 

He looked up and Harry’s shocked face, “Hey Harry”

“As I was just about to inform you, I am already consuming my evening supplements with Ensign Paris.” Seven told him. 

“Oh . . . I see . . . .” Harry stuttered, “Some other time then.”

“Perhaps.” Seven responded carefully, to Tom’s amusement, and Harry’s discontent. 

“See you later Harry!”

Harry walked off, dejectedly, Seven a bit puzzled, while Tom grinned happily. 


 ** Three days later ** 

Tom had found himself enjoying Seven’s presence more and more in the past few days as they had planned out their venture for Naomi. He had always found her attractive, and his more frequent contact with the curvy former-Borg had only added to his opinion of such. He found her efforts to integrate herself into everyday human life interesting, and he was enjoying helping her with her endeavors. 

However, yesterday, he’d been unable to find her, and the computer had told him Seven of Nine was unavailable. So, as soon as he’d finished his duty shift, he once again sought out Seven as soon as he was in the turbo lift leaving the bridge. 

“Computer, locate Seven of Nine.”

“Seven of Nine is in her quarters.”

“Computer, locate Seven of Nine’s quarters.”

“Deck 4 Section 7.”

Tom was surprised, needless to say, because his own quarters were on the same level. However, this was very convenient for him, because now he didn’t even have to change his turbo lift orders. 

He soon arrived at Seven’s quarters and engaged the door chime. The sound of Seven granting her permission to enter was soon heard and the door whooshed open. 

Tom was shocked to find her, sitting, and her hair was down.

“You’re sitting down . . .” He flashed her a grin, “I thought you said Borg don’t sit.”

“They don’t . . . but the doctor removed most of the remainder of my implants, and I find standing all the time . . . tiring. It is a most unpleasurable experience.”

“So that’s where you were yesterday.” Tom commented, coming into the room and sitting down in a chair.

“Yes.” Seven told him uncomfortably, “The doctor thought it would improve my relations with the crew if I no longer needed to regenerate, but rather sleep like the rest of the crew. Somehow, it’s supposed to make me . . . identify with the crew more. He was finally able to discover a way to operate and remove the implants without causing major damage to my vital organs. He and the Captain insisted I take two days off to recuperate.”

“Amazing, that’s great Seven.” He looked around the new quarters, “Um, it’s kind of . . . bare in here isn’t it?”

“I do not have any . . . personal belongings in which to adorn these quarters.” She told him hesitantly. 

“Oh . . .” He said with an understanding ton, feeling a bit guilty. 

The silence loomed for a few moments until he came up with an idea.

“Would you like me to, help you personalize this place.”

After a few moments Seven responded, “That would be . . . acceptable.”

“Great! How many replicator rations do you have?”

“A large amount, prior to now, the only need I have had for my weekly rations were food.”

Tom grinned widely at the idea of how many rations that would give him to play with, “Excellent, now, let’s search the database . . . . .”

Hours later, after exhaustive research, and many arguments, Seven’s quarters were decorated in a manor that was feminine, practical, yet fun. There was even some clothing for leisure time activities, which Tom had to argue with Seven to get for 15 minutes before she caved. The last item they replicated, was a holophoto of Seven with her parents that they found of the Starfleet database. 

It was placed next to Seven’s bed. 

The main area was decorated with candles, some throw pillows, and a blue afghan Tom insisted would one day come in handy. 

Now both sat side by side on the sofa, one obviously more relaxed than the other.

There was a peaceful silence, which both enjoyed, quiet in their private thoughts. 

Tom thought about the last item they’d replicated frequently in the stillness, and his curiosity ultimately got the better of him. 

“Do you remember your parents?”

Seven frowned at the sudden intrusion of her thoughts, and took a few moments to form her answer, “I remember . . . a bit.”

“Such as . . . .” He prompted.

“The Raven, a model of a Borg cube, soft music playing after I went to bed as they danced together, someone singing to me, and my father letting me help him fly the ship . . . just before the Borg attacked.”

Tom pulled her to him, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, trying to comfort her as she continued. 

“I remember their fear and love as they tried to protect me . . . my father told me to hide. They hoped that because I was small, I would be able to elude the Borg . . . . I was not successful in my endeavor. I remember their screams. My mother and father calling for me, reaching out for them, begging them to save me . . . . Then everything went black.”

“Oh God, Seven, I had no idea . . . . I’m sorry.”

Seven cocked her head and looked up at him, “I am confused by the tendency of individuals to apologize for things when the circumstances were not their error or of their control.”

“Well, when a person feels bad for another . . . no . . . wait I know, even if circumstances . . . “ Tom frowned, then smiled at her, “You know what Seven, I don’t know why we do that. I guess it’s because we feel sorry that you had to have the experience.”

“But experiences cause a person to developed into the individual they become, correct?” Seven questioned. 

“Yes . . .” Tom answered, wondering where she was going with this. 

“So if I had not undergone the events I did, I would not be the individual I am, and in all probability, not even on this ship. Do you wish for me not to be here?”

“No!” Tom took her chin in his hand and stared deeply into her eyes, “What I mean is, I wish that you could be here, but not have gone through all the frightening and painful things in your life. I don’t like my friends to get hurt.” 

A look of wonder crossed Seven’s face, “You consider me, to be your –– friend?”

“Of course I do Seven, an I hope you consider me your friend too.” Tom told her 

“That would be . . . agreeable.”

 ** Many hours later ** 

Tom awoke to the sound of his comm-badge. 

::Doctor to Ensign Paris:: 

Tom slowly became aware of his surroundings, and the fact that he was still on Seven’s couch, while the women in question was sleeping on his chest. 

::Ensign Paris to the doctor, I’m here.:: He whispered back. 

::I know you are ‘there’, because you are not 'here', as you were assigned to be 10 minutes ago.::

Toms eyes grew wide, ::Be there in a few minutes Doc, I’m a bit . . . stuck.::


Tom sighed as the EMH signed off, and looked down at his companion, whom had unexpectedly not awoken during the brief conversation. He knew that she must have been exhausted not to, so he carefully maneuvered himself so he was able to pick Seven up. He carried her into the bedroom, where he set her down on the bed, covered her up, then left a brief message explaining what had happened. 


 ** Awhile later ** 

Seven woke up, confused at her surroundings, then she saw the PADD propped up on the nightstand. 

Hey Seven, I had to go to my shift in Sickbay. 
I didn’t want to wake you up, so I put you in your
bed. How about lunch this afternoon? 


Seven raised her eyebrow at the idea of Tom putting her into her bed, and then changed for the day. With the majority of her implants gone, she was finding her bodysuit . . . uncomfortable, and the stares she got from the male, and some female, members of the crew, unsettling. Seven then decided to put on one of the outfits Tom had forced her to replicate the previous day. A pair of black pants and a blue shirtsleeve top with a square neck, which tied behind, enhancing her breasts. 

She had noticed that Tom’s heart and repertory rate had risen when she’d worn her hair down, which made her decide on a new style which she recalled her mother wearing. She began by twisting the hair in along the top and pinning it down on the inside, creating a crown of hair on the sides, then placing her hair in a ponytail, creating a part above the tie and pulling the hair through it. Seven found the effect, pleasing, then she realized what she was doing. 

The idea that she was making an effort to make her appearance, appealing, to Ensign Paris disturbed her; she shook off these desires to impress him, telling herself that feelings are irrelevant. 

She however did not change her appearance before she strode out the doors in her task to find Ensign Paris.  


 ** Sickbay ** 

Tom and the Doctor were arguing over the time Tom spent in Sickbay, the Doctor wanting Tom to be there more, Tom less, when Seven came in. 

The Doctor was surprised by her appearance. 

“Why Seven, you look . . . good. I see my lessons in human relations are working.” He boasted egotistically. 

“Actually, Tom was the one who required me to replicate these coverings.” She turned to Tom, “You said they were . . . practical yet –“

“Aesthetically pleasing.” Tom finished with her smiling.

He looked her up and down, “And the doctor was right, you look . . . fantastic.”

Seven blushed a bit, “I think, thank you, is the correct response.”

“Your welcome.” Tom told her, giving her a full genuine smile. 

The Doctor frowned at this interaction, and decided it was time to take Seven’s attention once more, “So, what brings you up to my domain Seven? Are you experiencing any discomfort from yesterday’s procedures?” he questioned as he began to scan her with a tricorder. 

“No, actually I am here to see Ensign Paris, he informed me this is where he would be at this time.” Seven informed him, taking a few steps towards Tom.

“Oh.” The Doctor brought down the tricorder disgruntled. 

“I wished to inform you that I accept your invitation to mess hall.”

“Great! How does 1100 hours sound?” Tom questioned, pleased at the turn of events. 

“Agreeable. I also wished to thank you for all of your assistance in, personalizing, my quarters yesterday.”

“Oh no problem Seven. It was fun! It’s not often that I get to spend other peoples replicator rations, and there isn’t anyone else I’d rather do it with.”

The doctor was incensed at hearing this, but didn’t say anything. He had no idea what exactly happened, but he knew he didn’t like it, “Mr. Paris, aren’t there some hypo sprays you should be preparing.”

Tom rolled his eyes, “I’ll get right on it Doc.” He flashed a sarcastic grin at Seven, which she slightly smiled at, “So, meet me here at 1100 hours?”

Seven nodded her head, then left the infirmary.


 ** A few days later**
** One hour prior to launch ** 

Tom and Seven met in front of the shuttle bay, Seven wearing the same outfit she had when she’d gone to see him in the infirmary, and Tom wearing his Starfleet uniform.  Tom was carrying a picnic basket, which Seven looked at curiously. 

“What is that container you carry?”

“This? It’s a picnic basket, a 20th century design used to hold food when you are going on a trip. Just a little something I had Nelix whip up for Naomi’s enjoyment.”

Seven gave him a little smirk, “I doubt that it’s only for her enjoyment.”

Tom pretended to look shocked, “Why Seven, whatever would give you that idea?”

“Previous experience Ensign Paris.”

Tom was denied his ‘rebuttal’ by Naomi coming running up. 

“Captain’s assistant reporting for duty sir!” She told him saluting. 

“Cadet, wipe that smirk off your face.” Tom ordered, “Straighten up that posture.”

Naomi did so, looking straight ahead.

“I suppose you will do for this mission.” He teased, then he crouched down to her level, “Are you ready to go where no Starfleet vessel has gone before!”

“I got my mom up at 0400 hours I was so ready to go.”

Tom let out a laugh, “Oh your mother’s got to love me right now.”

“Let’s just say you’re lucky your off Voyager today Tom.” Sam informed him catching up to her daughter, looking very tired, then she kneeled down to her daughter’s level, “Naomi, I want to you listen to everything Tom and Seven tell you today. They are in charge. If they order you to do something, you are to do it, understand?”

“Yes Mom.”

“Good, now have a wonderful time, and try to learn something while you’re out there ok?”

Naomi grinned, “Oh I will Mom, Seven’s coming along to make sure I do.”

Sam looked up at Tom and Seven and smiled, “I see.” She hugged her daughter tightly, “I love you sweetie.”

“I love you too Mom, don’t worry, it will be fine. It’s just going to be your typical Starfleet away mission.”

The adults held back their laughter at Naomi’s serious tone. 

“I know that Naomi. See you before bedtime, Nelix is going to come and tuck you in tonight.”

“Ok, by Mom.” Naomi then followed Seven into the Shuttle bay. 

Once Samantha Wildman was sure the two were out of hearing distance, she turned to Tom, “I’m putting my only child’s life in your hands once more Tom. I trust you. Take care of her today ok?”

“No worries Sam, everything will be fine. Seven has us on a strict schedule, and we repeatedly scanned the area for hostiles. It’s going to be a quiet trip, that’s all. We’re going to be in the Delta flyer, there’s not a better ship in existence.” Tom assured her. 

“I know Tom, you know I trust you with my daughter’s life. You’re the best pilot I’ll ever meet . . . it’s just that, I’ve got this bad feeling today. Like something’s going to happen. I wouldn’t let Naomi go, but her hearts set on it, and if I kept her home every time I had a bad feeling, she’d rarely ever leave our quarters.”

“I understand Sam, she’s your daughter, a part of you. Seven and I will always protect her with our lives.” Tom told her. 

Sam finally sighed, then nodded, “Right, right. Go on, go. Get out of here before I let my hormones take over.”

Tom flashed her a grin, then ran to catch up with Seven and Naomi who were already on board. 

 ** A few hours later ** 

The trio had eaten lunch on an uninhabited M-class planet, after having let Naomi run around for awhile in the fresh air, they’d gotten back on the shuttle, and started the return trip when Seven’s sensors’ detected something. 

“I have an unidentified craft coming in off the port bow.” Seven called out.

“I see it too.” Tom acknowledged, “I’m hailing . . . no response.”

“They’re charging weapons!” Seven announced. 

“Making evasive measure . . .” 

The evasive measures however were not enough, for the Delta Flyer was soon hit by weapons fire, causing sparks and explosions within the flyer.

“I’m losing engine power!” Tom yelled. 

“Trying to compensate . . . . Naomi Wildman, secure your safety harness.” Seven ordered.

“Yes Seven.” A terrified Naomi weakly answered, doing as instructed.

“Thrusters are gone.” Tom announced, “We’re being pulled in by the gravitation of the planets into the atmosphere.”

“We’re being scanned . . .” Seven declared.

Then everything went black for all the occupants of the Delta Flyer. 


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