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Seven is dubious. ‘Art?’
‘Yeah, I know. It’s not really my thing either. Maybe it’s a dumb idea.’ B’Elanna gestures aimlessly. ‘I just thought, you know, a bit of personalisation of the space. If we’re going to be holed up here for a while.’
‘Only I have to stay here. You’re free to go, B’Elanna. You know that.’
‘Yeah, I do know. And where I want to go is where you are, you beautiful genius idiot.’
‘That’s an oxymoron.’
‘It sure is. And yet.’
A pleased blush creeps up Seven’s neck. ‘You really do find me beautiful?’
B’Elanna rolls her eyes. ‘I thought you had an eidetic memory. Haven’t the last twenty times I’ve told you that convinced you?’
‘I suppose that I enjoy being reminded.’ She takes B’Elanna’s hand. ‘Why do you say that art isn’t your “thing”? Or mine?’
‘Well, you know, we’re just… scientifically minded.’
‘I don’t see how that relates.’
‘You know… people being art-y, people being tech-y… two sides of a divide.’
Seven’s ocular implant twitches. ‘Captain Janeway has a holoprogram where she spends time with a simulacrum of Leonardo da Vinci.’
‘Yeah, I remember. The Mona Lisa guy. The captain’s always been a bit multifaceted in her interests I guess.’
‘He was an artist, but he was also a scientist and an engineer. I think that’s why the captain finds him so inspiring.’
‘I guess I didn’t know that.’
‘You do now. You would find his technology primitive, but it was quite revolutionary for its time.’
‘Is this your long-winded way of telling me that you like the idea of getting some art to liven up this prison cell.’
‘Starfleet headquarters apartments are hardly prison cells.’
‘They are when you say don’t leave or else.’
‘Perhaps.’
‘Let’s get ourselves some paintings, Seven.’
‘All right.’