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Relevant

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Summary: Tara, Seven of Nine, and a hairbrush. Then a cat 'o ninetails. And another toy. It just gets more interesting from there...

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Star Trek > Voyager(Moderator)JoeHundredaireFR1896,84405917,75025 Aug 067 Dec 07Yes

Relevant

Title: Relevant
Author: JoeHundredaire (joehundredaire@tthfanfic.org)
Rating: R/FR18.
Pairings: Tara Maclay/Seven of Nine
Disclaimer: Someone inside Paramount owns Seven of Nine (but don't let her hear you say that) and someone who's not me (but may be Joss Whedon) owns Buffy.
Joe's Note: Dunno what I'm smoking. I like Tara though. And believe me, you'll be wishing for more cute 'n fluffy stuff when you see what Ebs and I are cooking up for Tara next…



     Tara Maclay rolled her eyes as she picked up the hairbrush sitting on her dresser, turning to face her lover where she sat on the edge of the bed. "You complain about this every night, Seven. Except the nights when I don't try to do it. Then you whine because I'm not."

     "I do not whine." Seven of Nine crossed her arms over her chest and stared up at Tara impassively. "I ask you to do my hair because you are more skilled in that particular area and I prefer to have my hair stay in the bun rather than escape. The sonic shower removes all possible contamination and leaves my hair smooth and untangled. It does not require brushing."

     Moving to kneel on the bed behind the blonde, Tara smiled when Seven wiggled back to press against her spread thighs. "The brushing is a nice peaceful, repetitive action. It helps me relax and I know you find it pleasurable. You make this cute purring noise sometimes."

     Seven opened her mouth, and Tara was able to mimic the predictable words. "Pleasure is irrelevant."

     "You know, that's not what you told me last night…" Tara teasingly ran one finger down the bare skin behind Seven's ear, knowing it was one of her more sensitive spots.

     The blonde shivered and pressed her head back to rub against her hand, letting out a small whine of protest when Tara moved away. There was a brief pause as Tara went to work, the soft sounds of the brush running through Seven's hair the only noise in their room. "…any previous statements that you could use against me to win an argument are irrelevant?"

     Tara blinked and straightened up a bit, looming over Seven. She took her lover's head between her hands, tipping it back so she could stare into her brilliant blue eyes. "Was that a joke?"

     The one visible eyebrow and her silvery optical implant rose as Seven's normally controlled expression shifted into shock. "It was. I think. I did not mean to."

     "That makes it even better!" Tara leaned down to kiss Seven on the lips. "Being able to make jokes on demand is something the computer can do. Making them randomly is more human. You're improving!"

     Seven's lips quirked upwards, which Tara interpreted to be a large smile. It had taken a while, but she was used to translating from Seven's mannerisms and expressions into normal person actions. "Do I get the same reward as last time?" Reaching back, she captured Tara's hands with her own and brought them around and up to cup her breasts.

     Blushing darkly, Tara ghosted her fingers along the tops of the blonde's silver-clad breasts. Unlike most people, there were very few times when Seven undressed, and the self-cleaning and maintaining properties of her catsuits meant that showering was not one of them. "I guess." She pressed her chest against Seven's back, leaning over the blonde's shoulder to plant small kisses along Seven's jaw. "But only if you do something for me first."

     "Hmm?" Seven closed her eyes and tilted her head to the side to grant Tara better access.

     "I still can't figure out how to get your damn catsuits off…"

     Crewmembers walking past Lieutenant Maclay's quarters were startled that the loud laughter that even the soundproofing in the wall panels couldn't suppress.
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