Chapter Text
They were both off duty, and neither cared to wear their dress uniforms when it wasn’t absolutely required, so Seven was dressed in a stunningly fitted plum suit. Raffi had intentionally picked a black dress with purple accents that matched, both of them well beyond the point of pretense to anyone but the technical record for the admiralty that their XO/CO relationship wasn’t a thing. The historical precedent for turning a blind eye was garishly long, and “what are they going to do, kick us both back out again? Babe, I think they’d be more embarrassed to have to officially boot my ass out for a third time than any damn I could give.”
The pair had dutifully attended the ceremony in their official garb, all uncomfortable pomp and circumstance while sitting in hard backed chairs in prominent places amongst the other command and flag officers as younger staff filed across the stage, receiving another pip on their collars.
This reception, however, was for one honoree in particular.
***
Seven had been enveloped in a lamprey-like hug almost the second the doors opened in front of them, strawberry blonde hair spilling over her shoulder and then between her fingertips when she raised her arms automatically to return the embrace as if no time had passed at all. “Hello to you too, Lieutenant Commander Wildman,” she murmured into the younger woman’s ear.
The Ktarian stepped back after a moment, hands clasped behind her back in impeccable parade rest. “It is gratifying to see you again, Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix Zero One.”
To Raffi’s amusement, Seven’s arm shot out and gently punched the young officer in the shoulder, laughter in her tone. “Thought I told you to cut that out, kid.”
Naomi joined in the laughter. “You didn’t have command authority over me then,” she teased back, shifting to welcome them inside.
“I do now,” Seven threatened. “So does she,” gesturing back at Raffi.
Naomi had heard about Raffaela Musiker, both from Seven herself and the commendations that had been blasted across FNN several months ago, but hadn’t yet met the woman. “Commander,” she reached out a hand.
Raffi shook her head, however. “I’ve heard way too much about you, honey, to want to just shake your hand. Any niece of Seven’s is a niece of mine.” She raised her arms invitingly. Naomi took her up on the wordless offer, the purple fabric of the draping sleeves of Raffi’s dress tickling her lower back as they hugged.
***
They were sitting on Naomi’s couch, having made the rounds of introductions to the assortment of ex-Voyager crew (several of whom Raffi recognized either from Seven’s stories or having to coordinate with other ships during the Romulan resettlement) and other friends from the intervening decades.
Naomi tried to follow her into the Rangers, Seven had explained once upon a time, but between Admiral Janeway and herself, after the loss of Icheb, that was a non-starter. She’d intentionally iced her out, her notoriety making it easy for her to draw on authority she didn’t actually possess in such a disorganized collective and say that under no circumstances was Naomi Wildman to be permitted to step foot on Fenris, much less join anyone’s crew. The young woman had eventually relented and – under her Voyager family’s strong urging – enrolled in the Academy. She and Seven had met up only a few times in the intervening decades, but though having eschewed contact with the majority of Voyager’s crew after she found herself on Fenris following the snub from Starfleet, Naomi was the one person who’d refused to let her get away with it, and as a result, they’d kept up regular communications.
Despite Seven’s third drink of the evening being mostly empty, the tension in her spine was clear to Raffi – she still wasn’t a fan of crowds, and there was a lot of emotional baggage involved with revisiting her time on Voyager – so it came as a surprise that Seven had draped her arm over her shoulders, teasing gently at a curl at the nape of her neck. She apparently felt safe here, amongst these people; some kind of inherent trust that if her adoptive niece deemed them worthy of occupying her space, she did as well. Raffi’s appreciation of Naomi’s place in Seven’s life – back then as well as now – instantly doubled.
Naomi had filtered back into the living area, perching herself on the coffee table in front of them. She poked at a balloon that had escaped its designated position amongst the decorations – Captain Kim’s doing, she learned later – before kicking a foot out to gently nudge against Seven’s purple-clad shin. Her voice was low. “You functioning at acceptable parameters? Won’t hold it against you if you need to go.”
Seven nodded noncommittally. They’d probably need to leave soon, Raffi recognized.
“You still shipping out on the 42037-A when it launches next week?” she asked. Naomi’s affirmation was accompanied by a broad grin. “Count yourself lucky they slapped that name on a Nova this time around. Naming a ship after her class? That’s absolutely asking for trouble.”
“The science labs on the Nova-class are remarkable,” Seven added. “Plus, we have it on good authority–” she looked toward Raffi, a smile teasing the corner of her lips.
“--that the best security ensign this side of the galaxy is coming off extended leave on Vashti,” Raffi finished, her hand squeezing Seven’s thigh. “Elnor’d have your back either way, but he knows you’re family, so if you find yourself with a Romulan shadow . . . well, he’s a good kid. I can’t wait for you to meet him.”
***
They said their goodbyes a few minutes later. Raffi was relishing in getting to meet so many people from Seven’s past, but it was clear that Seven was reaching her limit when it came to such a social engagement, the mask fraying just a bit from overstimulation. Stepping out into the warm summer air of San Francisco, Seven teased at a purple sleeve dangling at Raffi’s wrist as they walked towards the transporter station to head back to the docked Enterprise-G.
“Thanks,” she said, elaboration unnecessary.
“Thanks back. Glad I got to finally meet her.” Raffi shifted her hand, grabbing Seven’s metal-laced fingers in her own. She brought the knuckles up to her lips. “We’ll have to check back in with her before she ships off. Maybe introduce Elnor early so he doesn’t spook her on the Excelsior with a little too much Absolute Candor? Game of Kadis-kot?”
Seven’s small chuckle of agreement was precious to Raffi, and she closed her eyes, locking this moment into her memory: them hand in hand, clear sky full of stars overhead, walking back to the room they (unofficially) shared aboard the Federation’s flagship. It had been a long time since she’d felt like she had a family, and knew it was the same for Seven. Tonight, it wasn’t so hard to envision.