Always a Losing Game
Summary: AU take on the Changling conversation Seven and Shaw have in "No Win Scenario".
Characters: Seven of Nine, Liam Shaw
Rating: Teen
Warnings: AU, Angst
Words: 1,412
One: Always a Losing Game
She leans on the door chime until he gives up and lets her in. There's not time to pander to his snit, but she falters on the threshold at the sight of him. His injured leg is raised and he holds a knife in one hand. The lighting's too dim to see his face clearly. She's a little glad - she's not sure she wants to see his expression right now.
"Can I come in?" she asks.
"No," he says. Then sighs and waves her over with the weapon he holds. "Bang up job your heroes are doing with my ship."
It's bitter and angry, and he has a point. She sits down without asking, because her legs can't hold up both her and the guilt she feels. She stares at the floor.
"I'm sorry." She is, truly. "I did not realise the extent-"
"No, and that's exactly the problem, Hansen."
She tries not to flinch at the name. Fails. Shaw snorts and swings his leg down. Gets up with considerable effort. Guilt surges. It's her fault that he's injured. Her fault that his ship is in deep shit. She bites her bottom lip.
"I don't know how you can still defend them," he continues, and there's an undercurrent of hurt to his voice. "They used you to get to me - well, to my ship. Played on your misplaced loyalty."
She looks at the padd. They're supposed to be having a different conversation, but she feels the need to explain. Only the words aren’t coming. Her gaze travels the dim room. He’s stood at the window, back to her, leaning heaving on the cane. Breathing so hard she can hear him from where she’s sat.
When he speaks again, his voice is low. "I trusted you."
Seven thinks she'd rather take a phaser blast than have heard those three words in such a grieved tone. She's betrayed him and it's hurt him. She swallows hard.
"Why? I know where your career began. I know what I am. So, why trust me?" She shakes her head. This is a question that's haunted her, but she's never dared ask it before. "Why did you choose me?"
"I wanted a good XO."
It's hard and tart... and only the tip of the iceberg. She knows that without knowing how. Only that somewhere in the past year, despite never seeing eye-to-eye with this man, despite the deadnaming, despite him being an utter pain in the ass, she's come to learn his cues. The ways he covers something deep with a trivial comment. A barb. Or a joke - he's made her laugh often, and it always startles her.
"Liam," she says. Sighs. She's never used his first name, but if he's going to call her Hansen, then she'll play that game. "Answer the damn question. Why me? Why is this bothering you so much?"
He turns and she notes never to play poker with him. She could be looking at a wall for all the expression on his face. The question hangs between them. It always has. She stares at him and recalls what she read. Wolf 359. He'd been so young. She wonders how much of the person he'd been before that day survived it.
"I wanted to know if I could," he says finally.
Well, that's an answer. She twists her head away.
"Have I hurt your feelings, Seven?"
Her name hits her like a slap. She'd have preferred her loathed surname to him saying it like that. All that anger. All that pain. And she deserves it all.
She grabs the padd and stalks over to him. Slams it against his chest. "Quit the pity party. We have trouble. We have a Changling on board. Before Picard, before you blame him."
He stares back at her for a moment, then puts a hand on the padd. Over hers.
The contact takes her by surprise. As does the sudden flicker of static along her nerves. She meets his eyes and sees the sensation reflected in their grey depths.
"Are you sorry?" he asks, voice is soft and low. She's apologised once, but she sees the need to hear it again on his face.
"Yes, I am. I'm sorry I listened to him. Sorry that I took his word over your decision." She takes a deep breath and lets it out slow. "Most of all, I am very sorry that I-I broke your trust."
Her voice cracks and her resolve crumbles. She drops her gaze.
Shaw tips her chin back up with one gentle finger. "So you should be," he says, but there's no anger behind it. No malice. Just quiet regret. "Changlings," he mutters then, disgusted. "Like my week wasn't shit enough."
He limps past her, leaving his touch as a ghostly whisper on her skin, and drops back into a seat. He proceeds to tell her about the Dominion War. Something else that she missed. She looks at him and realises how much he's been through. That his experience is no less valid than Picard's. She feels shame at her behaviour. At how she's diminished him.
He'd trusted her but she'd not returned that, and she's no idea why. He is constancy itself. His record as captain is flawless.
She sits in the next chair and lets him lecture her on the basics of Changling physiology and this? This is what they always could have had, if only they'd actually spoken to each other months ago.