Star Trek: Voyager fan fiction by Vyola |
TRIOS: Invitation (PG-13)
It’d be so much easier if I had maternal feelings for him.
I remember the very first time that thought crossed my mind. The very
first time I met Tom Paris. After all, I was nearly 15 years older and
had never, even in my own salad days, exhibited the immaturity that filled
his record.
Then I came face-to-face with a blue-eyed blond rogue...
~ye gods, a fallen angel straight from a Regency holonovel~
...and a mental voice began chanting, "sublimate, sublimate."
And I did, because starship captains don't get involved with junior
officers, much less convicted terrorists. I mentally assigned him to the
same category as Harry Kim -- young, subordinate, brother/son
surrogate -- and fully expected him to stay there until the mission was
over and he was gone. How long could it take to capture one Maquis
ship and return home, anyway?
Now I know better than to ask that sort of question.
My reflection floats over the stars outside my window. They shine though
my green gown like fireflies above a field. I look like Kathryn now.
Janeway's retired for the night. I'm getting better at letting the
Captain rest when she can. Seventy years is too long to show
only one part of yourself.
"Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager,
you are a long way from home." My voice is loud in the empty
room.
Federation Starship. Not exactly. Not anymore.
We've realized that Voyager is a world, a culture unto itself. We still
cherish Federation ideals and try to live by them. But we're no longer
in Alpha Quadrant. Starfleet isn't a reassuring presence on the next
planet, the next station. We've started developing our own customs and
traditions. We have only each other for support. We're remaking
ourselves from a crew into a family. Relationships are being redefined.
Ensign Wildeman's baby was the symbolic beginning. I've already
conducted one wedding, Lynch in Stellar Cartography and deHaas in
Tactical. Kim and Torres are as happy as clams, arguing through the
days and spending the nights together. Chakotay calls them "the peas
in the pod." Chakotay....
Perhaps Chakotay and I haven't acted on the feelings our sojourn on
New Earth brought to the surface, but we both know our time will
come.
Which brings me back to Tom Paris.
Every day, I sit in the center chair, his bright head a constant in my
sight. How many times has my gaze settled on him until Chakotay
catches my eye and shares a rueful grin? You and me both,
Kathryn, that grin says.
Wasn't that a shock, when I realized we shared those feelings, too.
But then I realized why. Neither of us can resist a challenge. Building
a personal relationship between Captain and First Officer, Starfleet and
Maquis, will be difficult enough. Throwing in a third partner as complex
as Tom Paris raises the stakes even higher and promises even sweeter
rewards.
Assuming, of course, that Tom's interested.
He's interested.
I've felt him watching me. I've seen the way he looks at Chakotay. The
way he talks, always the quick jab, the sly response, always pushing
buttons. Testing our limits. He wants the other shoe to drop so he
doesn't have to wait anymore, wondering how bad it will be.
It doesn't take a ship's counselor to understand why. Start with a
childhood dominated by his father. You never lifted a hand against the
boy, did you, Admiral? Just showed him in a million unspoken ways that
he'd never be good enough, never worthy of love. Toss in his
ignominious departures from both Starfleet and the Maquis. Then to cap
it all off, a nice, relaxing prison stay.
When I think of what he must have endured in New Zealand I want to
kill someone. It's a cold rage and it makes me shake. Every hand
against him. Hated by Federation and Maquis alike, despised as an
Admiral's pampered son, cursed with a beautiful face and body...
Maybe someday I can tell him how proud I am of him. That attitude of
his toward authority -- it was probably like a target on his back. But he
survived and still dares the universe with a grin. How can he do it? I
know he always expects to be slapped down. He always has been.
Used and discarded by everyone who should have protected him.
No wonder he only gets involved with partners like the Delaney sisters.
No demands, no commitments and absolutely no control over him,
physically, professionally, emotionally.
No wonder he'd never initiate a relationship with me or Chakotay.
We'd probably scare him to death even without our ranks.
But he still watches us.
I guess it's up to me then. Oh, well. Rank hath its responsibilities.
But first, one of its privileges.
"Computer, is the holodeck being used?"
"The holodeck is not currently in use."
"Restrict access to myself, Commander Chakotay and Lieutenant Paris
until further notice. Activate program 'Sandrine's'."
"Access restricted and program activated."
"Janeway to Chakotay."
"Chakotay here, Captain."
"Would you care to join me for an evening of pool and conversation at
Sandrine's? I'm planning on inviting Tom Paris as well."
The only sound is the barely perceptible hum of the open comm channel
for a long moment. Then, "I'll meet you there in fifteen minutes, Kathryn.
Chakotay out."
"Janeway to Paris."
"Paris here, Captain."
"Tom, Chakotay and I are spending the evening at Sandrine's. We'd be
very pleased if you'd join us."
the end
Go on to TRIOS: Seduction
|
|
Petals & Pixels contact ladyvyola@yahoo.com about this story |