Star Trek: Voyager fan fiction by Vyola |
As is probably painfully obvious, this was one of my earliest stories. It was written in
four distict parts and each was a bit of an experiment: Part 1, the classic hurt/comfort. Part 2, a slice-of-life. Part 3, a PWP. Part 4 -- well, you'll just have to see what Part 4 is. :)
Second Impression (NC-17)
Part 1
"Oh, god. Oh, god." Tom Paris chanted over and over as he
frantically dug through the rubble. He felt sharp edges cut into
his hands. Muscles burned across his back and stomach as he
fought with the heavy stones. The deep rumble and crash of the
earthquake had finally died away, leaving the cave silent save for
his rapid breathing and rough voice. The beam of the field lantern
threw hard shadows on the walls, illuminating the chaos.
"Where is he? Oh, god. Oh, god." His hands hit something soft,
fabric-covered. He redoubled his efforts, ignoring the pain, and
soon unearthed the head and chest of Commander Chakotay.
The First Officer was not breathing.
Paris bent over him, searching for a pulse. Nothing. He began
artificial respiration, then cardiac massage. "No, god damn it!
You are not doing this to me. You are not dying! I'm not taking
you back to the Captain dead."
He kept alternating his actions, first forcing air past Chakotay's
still lips, then working on his unmoving chest.
Words fell from his lips between breaths.
"You are not dying on me! Your life is mine, remember? Breathe,
damn it!"
Dimly, Tom could hear his rough voice echoing in the stillness of
the cave. He barely felt the hot tears running down his dusty face.
All his attention focused on the man lying before him.
"You belong to *me*, Chakotay. Do you hear me? I *own* you.
Don't die! You belong to me. You're mine, you're mine, you're
mine...."
Eternity passed.
Suddenly, a shudder ran through the body beneath his hands.
With a little cough, Chakotay began to breath. Tom's gaze was
caught by dark eyes fluttering open, an unfathomable expression
in their depths. A single word, almost a sigh, floated up to him.
"....yours...."
Chakotay lapsed into unconsciousness. Tom reassured himself
that he was still breathing before clearing the rest of the dirt and
rubble from his body. He found the medkit alongside one long
leg. It had fallen open and its contents lay scattered, most crushed
by rocks.
His hand closed over a familiar shape. The tricorder,
miraculously still functioning despite a huge dent. He scanned
the First Officer.
Two broken legs, right arm fractured in three places, concussion,
bruised ribs -- 'though that might have been from the massage,'
Tom thought -- bruises, cuts. No evidence of internal bleeding.
Nothing immediately dangerous. Even the concussion was fairly
mild. 'I always knew he had a hard head.' He inventoried what
was left of the medkit, checking the hypo sprays. Most were
completely destroyed. Dermal regenerator, bone regenerator,
all the tools -- crushed. A few hypo sprays remained intact; the
only ones of use were a handful of painkillers.
The tricorder in his hands went "pop", then the screens flared and
went black. Nothing he did brought it back to life. Paris cursed.
Rescue better come soon. Chakotay might be stable now but he
needed real medical attention. For the time being, all he could do
for him was make him as comfortable as possible. He administered
the mildest of the painkillers and saw some of the tension leave the
unconscious body. When Chakotay came to he could give him
something stronger.
He shrugged off the top of his jumpsuit and pulled off the turtleneck
underneath. Using one sleeve, he wiped off Chakotay's face, hair
and hands as much as possible, then his own. He fumbled at his
hip for his canteen, somehow still attached. Dampening the other
sleeve, he washed their faces and hands.
He folded the turtleneck into a pad and slipped it under Chakotay's
head, then pulled the dusty jumpsuit back up against the cave's chill.
He ran a hand along his chest. No communicator. Chakotay's, too,
was gone, somewhere under a pile of rock.
Paris crawled to where the lantern lay tipped over. He
straightened it and concentrated on picturing the cave before the
quake. Carefully, he began searching. After long moments, he
was rewarded. A Federation beacon, part of the kit they had
brought down with them. Activating it, he returned to Chakotay's
side and waited.
****
Chakotay regained consciousness slowly. Cold, hard rock under
him. The taste of dust in his mouth. A distant ache in his body that
signaled injury and a painkiller about to wear off. He opened his
eyes to see only rocks and rubble. 'A cave. Not another cave.
Please, no.'
"We've got to stop meeting in dark caves, Commander. People are
starting to talk."
He knew that voice. Knew it and despised it. Traitor, troublemaker.
For a moment, Chakotay could only remember the Ocampan
underground and certain death. Then that hated figure appearing to
drag him to safety.
"What happened?" His voice was hoarse. He saw Tom Paris
sitting beside him, bright blue eyes staring intently.
"Don't try to move, you're injured. Take a sip," Paris instructed,
holding a canteen to his lips with one hand and supporting his head
with the other. Chakotay drank greedily.
"There was an earthquake. Apparently this region is less stable
than we thought. You're in pretty good shape considering that
half this mountain came down. You've got a concussion and
you were out for a few minutes. Both legs and an arm are broken,
bruised ribs, cuts and scrapes. We've lost our comm badges but
I've activated the beacon. There's probably some signal
interference from the seismic activity but Voyager knew our
general location. Two hours to rescue, max. Air's not a problem;
we're getting currents from somewhere."
It came back to him then. "And we didn't even find any useful
elements, did we? I can remember reaching for my communicator
to tell Voyager that we were out of luck at this site. Then, nothing."
An involuntary grimace crossed his features.
"Ready for another painkiller, Commander? It's about the only
thing in the medkit to survive." He pressed the hypo against
Chakotay's neck. "You need to stay awake with that concussion
but there's no need for the pain. That should last until we get back
and you're in the Doctor's clutches."
"He'll want to know why I don't have more sense than to stand
under collapsing mountains," Chakotay said dryly.
"Don't worry. He'll find some way to blame it on me."
That elicited a quiet chuckle.. "It's getting hard to remember he's
a hologram. If his programmers could see him now!"
"I think, when we get back to Alpha Quadrant and they consider
all the new races we've met, all the phenomena we've observed,
the most significant event will be the evolution of the Doctor."
"Really?" He hoped Paris would continue. If he concentrated on
his voice, the walls of the cave stayed put and he didn't find himself
back in that other cave. Besides, he had to admit, Paris's opinion
on holographic programming was worth listening to.
"Yeah. He was never meant to function continuously as long as
he has. That's why the program degraded. Then, when we
reactivated him, it should have taken just as long for him to
readapt to his expanded duties as it did the first time. But it didn't.
He started to regain his memories and personality almost
immediately. There's something unique about the program and
how it interacts with Voyager's computer."
He broke off abruptly. "Sorry, Commander. I can talk this stuff for
hours and I forget not everyone's as interested as I am."
"We *have* a couple of hours, Lieutenant. And I *am* interested.
Go on. Please."
"Hang on a sec. Where is -- ah, here we go." Paris pulled a
battered little pouch from the rocks. Reaching inside, he held up
a candy bar. "A little worse for wear, but definitely edible.
Chocolate with nuts and raisins, right?"
"How'd you know? It's been months since I've had chocolate.
I keep thinking about using some of my replicator rations on it
but there's always something I need more."
Paris unwrapped the treat and broke off a piece. "Here. Don't
try to move your arm. That one may not be broken but there's
no point in straining yourself." He held the chocolate to
Chakotay's lips.
Self-consciously, the older man took the candy in his mouth,
careful not to make contact with Paris's fingers. The flavor
exploded on his tongue. He closed his eyes and concentrated
on enjoying the unexpected pleasure. Too soon, it was gone.
"More, please."
"Just one more bite, Commander. Don't want to put too much
in your stomach with that concussion." He fed him another piece
then offered the canteen.
After drinking, Chakotay asked the question again. "How did you
know I liked chocolate -- and what kind?"
"Oh, something B'Elanna said once. How you'd always scour every
supply shipment for candy but always felt so guilty about wanting
it for yourself that you wouldn't take it. You know, you've got to
do something about that martyr complex. Just because you enjoy
something doesn't mean you have to deny yourself."
"I --"
"I'm not preaching unbridled hedonism, Commander. Voyager's
not the place for that. But you *do* need to relax a little more.
It's going to be a long seventy years otherwise. If a little chocolate
now and then helps you over the rough patches, well, what's so
wrong with that?"
"And what gets you over the rough patches?" Chakotay searched
Paris's face, but only got a bland smile in reply.
"Oh, I do fine when the going's tough. I always know exactly what
to do to make it worse. It's the smooth patches that throw me."
He busied himself with their few supplies, downcast eyes hidden
from Chakotay's dark gaze.
"As I was saying about the Doctor...."
Chakotay sighed and let it go. It wasn't the time or the place
for that kind of discussion. He didn't even know why he was
suddenly so interested in Tom Paris. He let himself become
immersed in the technical details of holo programs.
****
The first noises from the rescue team reached them less than two
hours later. First the sound of rock against rock, then voices.
B'Elanna's voice carried over the muted hum of the others as she
directed the effort.
"Get those supports into place! I don't want what's left of this
blasted mountain coming down when we shift those rocks."
"Hey, B'Elanna! What took you so long?" Paris called out.
"Tom! Are you okay? Where's Chakotay?"
"I'm here, B'Elanna."
"But he really needs medical attention. Can you
beam him directly to Sickbay now?"
"As soon as we get you out of the cave. We're having difficulties
locking onto your patterns -- interference from something in the
rocks. Almost there! Hang on another minute."
Sounds of digging filled the cave. Paris gathered up the remains
of their supplies and offered Chakotay a last sip of water. "This
is an historic away mission, Commander. We survived an
earthquake *and* we managed not to argue for three whole hours.
Think the Captain'll be impressed?"
"Forget the Captain. *I'm* impressed. Tom," he stressed the name,
"I mean that seriously. Being hurt, alone, trapped in a cave -- well,
that's been featured in a couple of my least favorite nightmares.
I never thanked you properly for coming back to me that other
time. I'm saying it now. Thank you for saving my life then, and
thank you for keeping me going this time."
Paris looked at him, his expression unreadable. Then he grinned.
"Careful, Commander. One of these days I just might collect."
Chakotay started to say something but the first member of the
rescue team emerged from an opening in the rubble. A large
clearing was made and several crew members carefully carried
the First Officer out. Paris stumbled after, blinking in the sunlight.
"Torres to Voyager. They're out of the cave. Beam them
directly to Sickbay."
The next thing Chakotay saw was the Doctor leaning over him,
scanner in hand. "Commander Chakotay is suffering from
multiple fractures in both legs and his right arm, Captain. He
also has a serious concussion. However, there is nothing of
major concern."
"That's good to hear, Doctor," came Janeway's voice from the
Bridge. "How is Lieutenant Paris?"
Chakotay twisted his neck to see Kes as she ran a tricorder over
Paris. "Doctor!" She shouted as he suddenly went white and
swayed on his feet. She got a shoulder under his arm and
lowered him to a biobed just as he passed out.
Chakotay's exclamation blended with Janeway's "Doctor!
What's going on?"
For a minute,, the Doctor didn't answer as he examined his patient.
"Captain, the Lieutenant is bleeding internally. His blood pressure
has dropped drastically, rendering him unconscious. I believe that
his seated position must have inhibited the bleeding to some extent.
However, when he stood up, it began in earnest. He's going to
need immediate surgery."
"Please keep me informed of his condition, Doctor. What is
Commander Chakotay's status?"
The holographic Doctor efficiently moved Paris into the surgical
area and began prepping him. "Kes will attend to him as I prepare
Mr. Paris. The Commander should have several days off to recover.
I'd prefer bed rest for him but I've noticed that the senior staff
tends to ignore that prescription. I'll allow light activity as soon
as his bones are regenerated and he's had a good night's sleep
in Sickbay."
"All right. Mr. Chakotay, you are off duty for today and the
next three days."
"Aye, Captain," he answered. "Truth be told, bed rest sounds
good right now." Kes had recalibrated the regenerator and began
knitting his fractures back together. He ignored the tingling
sensations in his legs, arm and skull and tried to keep an eye on
the Doctor and Paris.
'That must have been quite a rock that hit my head. I can't believe
I never thought he might be hurt. Spent that whole time keeping
me going and all the while *he* was the one with serious injuries.
I wonder if he knew? It'd be just like him to have realized it but
keep it from me. For all his cockiness, I've never met anyone
more prone to self-sacrifice.'
His musings were interrupted by Kes's soft voice "I've finished the
regeneration, Commander. However, the Doctor would like you
to stay in Sickbay tonight for further observation."
"All right. I think I'm too tired to get back to my quarters anyway."
And for some reason he felt compelled to keep watch over Paris,
just as Paris had watched over him.
"I'll let the crew know you're here. Do you feel up to visitors?
B'Elanna and Harry have been waiting to see you."
"Ask them to come in, please."
By the time they arrived, Kes had installed him in one of the beds
near the Doctor's office. He couldn't see or hear anything of the
surgical area from that location.
"Chakotay, are you okay?"
"Commander, how are you feeling?"
The questions overlapped, making him chuckle. "I'm fine. I just
have to take it easy for a couple of days."
"And Tom?" Harry looked at Kes anxiously.
"The Doctor is operating on him now," she explained in her
soothing voice. "He was bleeding internally. But it doesn't look
like there will be any complications. You'll be able to see him in
a day or so."
Harry's natural optimism blossomed under her reassuring manner.
"I knew even a mountain couldn't stop Tom. He's got more lives
than a cat."
Chakotay saw Kes's puzzled look. "Old Earth expression."
"I thought it was something about curiosity killing the cat."
"Different saying. This one is about cats supposedly having nine
lives, mainly because when they fall, they tend to land on their feet,"
he elaborated.
B'Elanna smiled. "Well, that's as good a comparison to Tom as I've
ever heard. He tends to land on his feet, too."
They shared a quiet chuckle. Then Kes, who had kept a sharp
eye on Chakotay, said, "I think visiting hours are over for today.
The Commander needs his rest."
Kim and Torres said their good-byes. The doors had barely
closed behind them when they opened again to reveal Captain
Janeway.
"Commander, it's good to see that even a mountain can't keep
you down. How are you feeling?"
He grinned wryly. "Like a mountain got me down. But Kes has
me almost as good as new."
She squeezed his shoulder with her characteristic warmth. "I'm
glad you're all right. Kes, how is Tom?"
"He's been in surgery about half an hour. I was just about to see
if the Doctor required any assistance."
The Captain gestured the Ocampan toward surgery and Kes
hurried away.
"He never said a word, Captain. For three hours he kept me
from going crazy in that cave and never said a word about his
own injuries."
"What do you mean?"
"When I regained consciousness, I thought I was back in that
other cave, when we first arrived in Delta Quadrant. I was sure
I was going to die there, trapped and alone. Then he started
talking to me and I remembered where we really were but those
feeling didn't go away. If he hadn't been there, I would have
panicked and I don't know what would have happened then."
"It's unlikely you would have had a chance to panic, Commander."
The Doctor emerged from surgery, studying a scanner. "These
readings indicate that you received artificial respiration and cardiac
massage approximately five hours ago. The bruises on your ribs and
the dust in your lungs are unmistakable signs of these actions. Since
only Lieutenant Paris could have administered these procedures, I
must conclude that he saved your life before he saved your
composure. It's gratifying that he has retained adequate
knowledge of these techniques."
"You seem to have gotten yourself a guardian angel, Chakotay."
She laughed at the expression on his face. "I bet you that's how
*he'd* react to the idea, too. Doctor," she continued, "what's
Paris's prognosis now?"
"The surgery proceeded without any complications and he is
responding well. I'll keep him sedated for tonight. I don't want
him tossing and turning. Then a week of bed rest. I must insist
upon it in this case. The internal damage was extensive and the
Lieutenant's body needs time to recover fully. No bending, no
lifting, no strenuous activity. In fact, preferably, no standing or
sitting up, either, for at least two days."
"So he'll have to stay in Sickbay."
"Yes, little as that prospect appeals to me. Or he could move
back into his quarters in a day if someone stayed with him during
his convalescence."
"Captain," Chakotay said slowly, "if you don't object, I'd like to
volunteer for nursing duty. I'm already free for the next few days
and it's the least I can to in return."
"Doctor?"
"Kes can stop by to monitor them a few times a day. And as
long as the Commander uses a little common sense and refrains
from challenging the Lieutenant to hand-to-hand combat, they
should both be fine."
"I'll try to restrain myself."
"If you're sure, Chakotay. I'm sure Harry or B'Elanna would be
happy to lend a hand as needed."
"I'm sure, Captain. I *need* to do this. I let Tom Paris become
a convenient focus for a lot of anger and resentment ever since
we got here. I've clung to my original opinion of him because it
was easier than trying to see behind all the labels hung on him.
But he's been an exemplary officer and an asset to this crew from
the beginning. It's time I acknowledge that and make sure he
knows it."
She flashed him an approving smile. "Very good, Commander.
You've got your assignment for the week." She headed for the
doors, paused, then looked over her shoulder.
"Oh, and Chakotay?"
"Yes, Captain?"
"Go slow. An overly solicitous First Officer might have Lieutenant
Paris doubting your sanity -- or his."
The doors closed behind her before he could do more than say,
"Aye, Captain."
****
Pain. Pressure. No air. Darkness. Cold. A deafening roar in
his ears.
He was dying.
Air. Light. Warmth. A voice calling him back, demanding his
return. A summons he could not, would not, ignore.
"Don't die! You belong to me. You're mine, you're mine,
you're mine...."
A white, strained face just above his. Angry tears making tracks
down dust-covered cheeks. Blond hair muted by dirt. Wild blue
eyes staring down at him.
He felt his dry lips move, a single word escaping....
"....yours...."
"Commander."
Chakotay sat bolt upright on the biobed, aching muscles protesting
the quick movement. The Doctor stood at his side.
"Commander, you were having a nightmare. Would you care for a
sedative?"
He took a few deep breaths. "No, thank you. I'll be fine. I think
I'll do some meditation exercises then try to sleep again."
"Very well. However, if your sleep continues to be disturbed, I
recommend that you seek medical assistance. You must get
adequate rest for a successful recovery."
"I will, Doctor. I promise."
Alone again, Chakotay sat cross-legged on the bed. 'Nothing
deep or elaborate,' he thought. Just some relaxation techniques
to get him centered again.
He pictured the forest clearing that represented the heart of his
spiritual world. He concentrated on the rich smell of the earth,
the feel of the breeze on his face, the musical murmuring of the
stream.
As he sank deeper into the trance, he caught sight of his spirit
guide amidst the trees. The wolf met his eyes and wagged her
tail in greeting but came no nearer. Tonight he was simply drawing
strength from the clearing, not seeking guidance.
He walked through the trees, pausing to run a hand along the bark,
admiring the play of sunlight between the leaves. The stand
represented his home planet, his family, all that he came from. All
that he had fought for. Winding around and through the grove was
a clear, fast-running stream.
He bent and trailed his fingers in the cold water. Once the stream
had been wide and flowed in a straight line, cutting the trees off
from the rest of the forest. His Starfleet career.
Then he had turned his back on Starfleet as the Federation had
abandoned his homeworld to the Cardassians. As he led the
Maquis on raid after raid, the stream grew ever smaller, choked
by weeds and rocks.
The Delta Quadrant revitalized the stream. As he committed
himself to Voyager and the two crews blended, the stream
became more vibrant than ever. And now it was not confined
to its old, restrictive course. Now it played among the trees,
nourishing their roots, no longer divisive.
Chakotay closed his eyes and let the serenity of the place fill him.
All was right in this private world.
Bzzzzzz! His eyes sprang open in time to see a small black shape
hover for a split second before him, then dart off. Bzzzz! Back
again, demanding his attention.
He laughed. The hummingbird had manifested itself about the time
of the stream's reappearance He had to admit, it represented
Voyager perfectly.
Both so small, so fragile. Incredibly tough. Ridiculously beautiful.
Always in motion, seeking, searching.
He plucked a spray of honeysuckle from a tangle of vines nearby
and gravely offered it to the tiny creature. It circled him warily,
then abruptly dove in. He watched its wings, a blur of motion as
the bird darted from blossom to blossom. It made a hundred
minute adjustments every second to control its flight.
The play of light over its feathers was magnificent. The dark body
was revealed as a brilliant blue jewel as it rose and fell in the air.
Deep ruby patches danced along its throat and the edges of its
wings, while the very top of its head flashed gold.
Without warning, the hummingbird left the flowers and flew past
Chakotay's face, so close he could feel the air displaced by the
rapidly beating wings against his cheek. Then it disappeared as
suddenly as it had come. A familiar pattern with the bird; an
unexpected appearance, a demand for attention, a sudden departure.
Every time it happened, he marveled at the creature's improbable
existence.
Chakotay returned to himself, still sitting on the biobed. He felt
calmer, clearer. Ready to consider his dream.
Obviously, the cavern. The pain had matched his injuries exactly
and the glimpse he had gotten of the dream-cave was enough to
identify the real cave.
But where had he gotten an image of a desperate Tom Paris,
ordering him not to die, declaring his ownership of Chakotay?
He thought of opening his eyes in the cave and seeing Paris
watching him, face calm. No tears, no despair, hair bright and eyes
clear. No dirt-smeared cheeks.
'No, he had to have been as filthy as me. He must have wiped his
face.' The thought triggered an almost-memory of a damp cloth
gently running over his forehead, down his jaw. 'So he could have
looked like that before I woke up. But how did I see him like that?
I must have woken up twice. The first time....'
He gave himself a shake. 'The first time must have been just after
he revived me. When he saved my life. He wouldn't let me die
still owing him."
"....yours...."
The word echoed in his mind. 'And I said -- no!'
Chakotay did *not* want to consider the possible reasons for that
response. 'For heaven's sake, I've only just decided that I don't
actually *hate* him.'
'All right, so I admire his skill as a pilot and respect him as a fellow
officer. And I can't stand the idea of dying without repaying a life
debt. That's all it was.'
His rationalizations did not convince him. He could almost see the
silver she-wolf laughing at him.
He stood and made his way to the biobed nearest surgery. Tom
Paris lay there, deep in an artificial sleep. The dim lights drained
the color from his face, reminding Chakotay of how white Paris
had looked when he collapsed. Even the bright hair seemed
subdued.
He was struck with the idea that Paris was gone, replaced by a
waxwork figure. He placed his hand on Paris's chest, relieved to
feel the heart beating strongly, the lungs rising and falling slowly
and steadily. He let the warmth of the sleeping man creep up his
hand, suffuse his body.
Content for the moment to leave the questions in his mind
unanswered, he returned to his own bed and slept, untroubled
by dreams.
Part 2
"Thou shalt not kill a fellow officer. Thou shalt not kill a
fellow officer." If he thought it long enough, maybe he'd
remember it.
Chakotay had been nursing Tom Paris for three days, and it was
as bad as he'd feared.
The first two days had been fine, primarily due to the fact that
the Doctor had kept the injured Lieutenant under mild sedation.
He had slept most of the time, content to sit quietly listening
to music when awake. He accepted Chakotay's ministrations in
the same matter-of-fact manner they were offered. The second
evening, they engaged in a pleasant 'can you top this?' exchange
concerning boring, stuffy official functions they had been
forced to attend. Chakotay felt that sitting through a musical
evening hosted by the C'Reht embassy, a race renowned for their
tunelessness, entitled him to top honors, but Paris insisted
that being the only eleven year-old human at a five-hour Vulcan
naming ceremony put him in the lead. Chakotay had a vision of
the young Tom Paris making faces at a high priestess and was
forced to concede.
The third day...
Paris woke at mid-day, obviously feeling much better. He
revealed this by expressing his dissatisfaction with his personal
appearance, the condition of his quarters, the competence of the
musicians he was listening to, the taste, texture, and color of
Neelix's latest culinary treat, and the Doctor's orders to remain
quiet.
Chakotay was keeping his composure. Barely. He knew Paris was
chafing at staying in bed. The enforced inactivity was driving
him up the wall. Paris was the least still person Chakotay had
ever known. The man was always busy, fairly radiating energy,
whether at the con, making the constant adjustments required to
keep Voyager on course through uncharted space, or 'relaxing' in
Sandrine's, a pool cue in one hand, juggling three flirtations
in the other.
Maybe a distraction was in order.
"Mr. Paris," he interrupted the latest rant about Voyager's
color scheme, "what's the status of your replicator rations?"
"Grey walls, grey floors, grey ceilings -- it was cheerier in
prison. Oh, hmm? My rations? I'm pretty flush right now. Won
a bunch off of Hansen and Geller a couple days ago and I haven't
had time to use them or my regular allotment since we got back.
I haven't really been much interested in eating the last couple
days."
"I was thinking. The Doctor says you can sit up for a few hours
this evening. You've had enough sleep for a while. Why don't we
rescue B'Elanna and Harry from the Mess Hall tonight and pool some
rations for a real meal?"
"You figure you can keep from wringing my neck if there are
witnesses?"
Chakotay tried to deny the all-too-true accusation, but Paris held
a hand up.
"It's okay, Commander. I know I'm a real pain in the ass for
you under ideal circumstances, and these are hardly ideal. I'm
surprised you've lasted this long. Visitors sound like a good
idea to me, too." He laughed. "I'd love to know what the odds
are on us not killing each other before we go back on duty. That's
one piece of action you and Tuvok can't blame on me."
"I wouldn't put it past you to somehow get a percentage of the pot."
"If I could get out of this cabin I would!"
"Sorry, Lieutenant. A quiet dinner sitting up is all the Doctor
will allow. It's still too early in your recovery for anything
more."
Paris gave him a sly smile. "Then I'll just have to be very good
tonight, so you'll be able to give him a favorable report."
Chakotay looked at him sharply, but Paris had assumed his most
angelic expression, the one he adopted whenever the Captain
questioned him about one of Tuvok's security reports.
The prospect of company brought out a side of Paris Chakotay
had never seen. The man began arranging the evening with the
flair of a professional host and the determination of a field
general. After receiving detailed instructions concerning the
menu and table settings, Chakotay voiced the comparison.
"Admiral, not field general. You don't grow up in Admiral Gene
Paris's household and not learn to entertain properly. I think
I was seven or eight before I figured out you could have a
meal without at least three courses.
"The right food, the right wine, the proper seating of ambassadors
and Starfleet commanders, how to make polite and non-controversial
small talk with political adversaries -- I could do it all before
I was a teenager. And, of course, I played a starring role in
these little productions. Gene Paris's living lecture aid." His
voice deepened. "'Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the future
of the Federation. The next generation of Starfleet officer. We
must preserve these magnificent institutions at all costs for him
and for all of our children.'"
Paris's face hardened as the memories came back. "'Tell the
ambassador how much you want to go to the Academy, Tom. Tell the
Commander how Parises always go to 'Fleet, Tom. Show 'em you're
a real chip off the old block, Tom.'"
"Poor little rich boy," Chakotay jeered softly.
Anger flashed in those blue eyes. "I'll admit I coasted into the
Academy on my father's influence, but that's because it really
didn't matter. He would have gotten me in even if I'd had the
brains of a Denebian Slime Devil. And even if I'd gotten in on
merit alone, no one would have believed it with *him* all over
me, picking my classes, arranging my career path.
"But the one thing he couldn't do was make me a pilot. *I*
did that. *I* was the one behind the controls. *I* made the
maneuvers. *I* practiced the sims over and over. *I* set the
records. *I* learned the limits and how to push them until
they bent. That was me. *Tom Paris*. It had nothing to do
with being Gene Paris's little clone."
Paris's face was flushed, and he was practically spitting the
words out from between clenched teeth. His hands were closed
in fists over the bedclothes. Chakotay grew alarmed when he
began sucking in deep breaths of air, his chest heaving.
"Tom! Tom, breath slowly!" His hands rested on Paris's shoulders,
shaking him slightly. "You're going to hyperventilate. Slowly.
In, out. In, out."
Paris visibly brought himself under control. A few shudders
racked his body as he lay there, eyes closed. He opened them
again to find the Commander still leaning over him, concern
evident in his face.
"I'm sorry I brought up bad memories, Tom. I didn't realize.
The Doctor will have my head for upsetting you like this."
"'S okay, Commander. I shouldn't let it get to me after so many
years. I guess the quake rattled me more than I thought. I've
had that reputation all my life, and most of the time I've lived
up to it. But sometimes..." He trailed off wistfully.
"Sometimes you wish people would see beyond the image,"
Chakotay completed the thought.
"Yeah. It'll be good to see Harry tonight. He saw behind it. You
know, he's the first friend I ever had that my father didn't pick out
for me or that I didn't choose just to tick him off."
"You two seemed to be firm friends before I came on board. How'd
you meet?"
Paris smiled the sweet smile that came so seldom to his face, the
one without any calculation behind it. Chakotay belatedly realized
his hands were still shaping Paris's shoulders. He let go and sank
into the chair by the bed.
"Voyager stopped at Deep Space 9 before heading out to the Badlands,
and there's a bar there called Quark's. Harry was in there,
innocently insulting a Ferengi. I mean, he was so obviously straight
from the Academy he was practically *shining*. God, I don't remember
ever being that young.
"He got all my protective instincts going." Paris shook his head.
"I didn't know I had any till then. So we started talking and pretty
soon we're back on Voyager, and I figure once it really dawns on him
who I am, he'll drop me like a rock. But he doesn't. He trusts the
Captain, and for some reason she trusts me, and that's good enough
for him to give me a chance.
"So, that's how I got my first real friend. I can still see him
standing over me in the Chute saying, 'This man is my friend. No
one touches him.' He was ready to kill to protect me... or die
trying. My own father doesn't come to my trial, and Harry Kim
defends me with his life."
"Your father wasn't at your trial?" Chakotay tried unsuccessfully
to hide his shock.
"What, you think Admiral Paris would have anything to do with an
accused traitor?"
"But you're his son -- "
"Not since Caldik Prime. He disowned me after the court-martial.
If he'd had his way, he would've taken away my name, too. But
there are a few things even *he* can't do. I'm sure the day he
heard Voyager was missing, presumed lost, he gave a sigh of relief
that I'd never bother him again."
He stopped short at the incredulous expression on the First
Officer's face.
"Oh, lighten up, Commander. He told me my whole life what a poor
reflection of a true Paris I was and how he knew I'd come to a bad
end without his guidance. It's not like I expected him to play
dutiful dad when I got in trouble."
A yawn took Paris by surprise. "Really, Commander. What were you
thinking of, tiring your patient out with big emotional scenes? No,
don't bother to apologize. We'll let it go this time." He waved a
hand graciously, but another yawn ruined the effect.
"Mighty big of you, Lieutenant," Chakotay grumbled under his breath.
"Quite all right. What time are you inviting them to come over?"
"I thought 1830 hours would be about right."
"Perfect. I'll have time for another nap while *you* get everything
set. Computer, wake me up at 1745 hours. That should be enough
time to get me ready, don't you think?"
Chakotay mimed a salaam at him but Paris's eyes were already drifting
closed.
"Oh, and Chakotay? Tell them no uniforms. If I can't be up on the
Bridge, I don't want to be reminded of it all through dinner."
"Yes, Master. Yes, Master. Any other orders, O Sleeping One?" The
sarcasm was thick, but Paris just shrugged it off.
"No, carry on. I'm sure you can manage on your own."
Chakotay thought of a few responses but held his tongue as he took
a good look at Paris. The other man was still very pale, and lines
of fatigue were apparent around his mouth. That explosion had really
drained him. Chakotay began to straighten the cabin and make
arrangements for the dinner.
As he worked, he thought back to when Paris had joined the Maquis.
Always pushing at Chakotay. Always questioning. Always sailing just
this side of insubordination. At the time, Chakotay had considered
it an expression of Paris's contempt for their cause. He'd thought
that Paris was just slumming until Daddy patched up his career. If
they hadn't needed pilots so badly, Chakotay would have turned him
away without a second's hesitation. When word reached him of the
arrest, he'd wondered if Paris had been a Federation plant and braced
for a Starfleet raid that never came.
He smiled grimly. Seska and Tuvok had taught him that spies were
considerably more subtle than Tom Paris could ever be.
He had finally dismissed Paris as an undependable thrill-seeker
who'd gotten his just desserts. The man had never crossed his
mind again until they'd found themselves seventy years from home,
aboard the same ship, serving the same captain. Both back in
Starfleet uniforms again. The irony was excruciatingly obvious.
When he considered those first encounters, he was relieved on one
level. Obviously, Paris would have had trouble getting along with
anyone leading the Maquis. His problems with authority were too
ingrained for smooth sailing. But, on another level, he feared that
there were things about himself that reminded the Lieutenant of his
father.
'The more I hear about him, the more he's the last person I want to
resemble,' Chakotay thought. Even more disturbing for some reason
was the implication that Paris might regard him as some sort of father
figure. 'It's bad enough that B'Elanna does. At least she's young
enough to actually be my daughter, and I've known her for years. But
Tom Paris?'
He pushed that question to the back of his mind. It joined a number
of items concerning the Lieutenant. It troubled Chakotay that his
first impression of Paris had been so superficial and wrong. He
prided himself on being a perceptive man, on looking deep inside
people and seeing their true selves.
'The Delta Quadrant has certainly shown me how fallible I can be.'
Tuvok and Seska crossed his mind again. 'But at least they were
professionals. They *wanted* to deceive me. Paris's mask was
simply a paper-thin defense, waiting to be ripped away. He *wanted*
someone to see past it for once. Why couldn't I see that then? Why
did it take me so long this time?'
He thought of Harry Kim and the awe in Paris's voice when he
recounted Kim's words in the Chute. He suspected Paris would gladly
breathe vacuum if Harry expressed a wish to see him try it.
He remembered Harry's encounter with an alternate reality where
neither he nor Paris had ever boarded Voyager. After only one
meeting, something about Harry Kim had driven that bitter version
of Paris to steal a shuttle and sacrifice his own life so Harry
could return to this reality.
What would it be like to inspire such devotion and loyalty in Paris?
What would it feel like to be the focus of an emotional commitment
so strong it could transcend time and space?
'You'd always have a protector keeping you safe from harm. An anchor
to keep you from being cast adrift, lost and alone.'
Lost and alone.
He'd been lost and alone in the Ocampan underground.
Tom Paris had come back for him.
He'd been marooned with the rest of Voyager's crew on a desolate
world by vengeful Kazon.
Tom Paris had brought Voyager back to them.
He'd been injured, dying, trapped beneath a mountain.
Tom Paris had saved his life and comforted him.
'Once is chance, twice is coincidence, three times is the hand of
the spirits,' Chakotay heard again his father's favorite saying.
'The spirits are always talking to us but we don't always pay
attention.'
'Half a mountain on top of me -- I think they've got my attention.
But why is it so important that I change my thinking about Paris now?
It's not like he's going anywhere for the next seventy years. I've
got plenty of time to make it up to him.' It occurred to him that
Paris had had almost as many brushes with death in the Delta Quadrant
as Harry Kim. 'Perhaps that's the real message. I shouldn't take the
time we have here for granted. I knew that on New Earth. That's why
I told Kathryn how I feel. But since we returned, I've let her push me
away again, put me firmly in my place as First Officer. Maybe this is a
sign to start resolving *all* my relationships.'
Happier with this analysis than with certain vague ideas that had
been drifting through his mind, Chakotay continued his preparations.
****
"Come on, B'Elanna. At least try it," Tom coaxed.
"It's yellow. And it's *quivering*." The half-Klingon, half-human
woman eyed her dessert with deep suspicion and a trace of
hostility.
"Oh, please. You eat live gah'k without batting an eyelash and a
little custard throws you?" Harry's amused tone brought an aggrieved
look to B'Elanna's face, and he wisely hid his smile.
"Klingon food is supposed to move, Starfleet. Terran food isn't."
"I'll have to take you to a few of the more... uh... *picturesque*,
establishments I've found on Earth when we get back," Tom said.
Chakotay watched the younger officers' play indulgently. The menu
Paris had given the replicator had been superb, from the spicy
tomato and corn soup, a variation of Paris's beloved favorite, to the
delicate caramel-drenched flan that so worried B'Elanna. Entirely
vegetarian, with an American southwest flair that recalled a little
restaurant in Arizona he'd discovered in his Academy days, the meal
had satisfied more than Chakotay's physical appetite. It had soothed
an emotional ache he hadn't even known he'd had.
'Comfort food. Guess Paris was right.' He wondered if the meal had
been part of the Lieutenant's campaign to get him to relax. 'It
worked. So did the chocolate. How many more of my likes and dislikes
has he got on file?'
B'Elanna gave up on the flan. Harry instantly appropriated it.
Chakotay got to his feet and caught B'Elanna's eye. She rose and,
following his lead, began gathering dishes from the table.
"Mr. Kim, why don't you entertain the Lieutenant while B'Elanna and I
clean up. I'm sure you can catch him up on all the gossip that the
First Officer isn't supposed to be aware of."
Harry chuckled tentatively, a little unsure how to react to his
superior's joke. Tom had no such hesitation.
"Aw, come on, Harry. The Commander's gone three whole days without
hearing about the matter/anti-matter ratios in the warp coils and
he's dying to get all the sordid details out of B'Elanna. That's
just his idea of being subtle about it."
Tom slowly got up from the table and made his way to the couch,
leaning on the shoulder Harry sprang up to offer him. They sat
down and watched the two former Maquis efficiently dispose of the
dinner's remains. Snatches of conversation, phrases like 'particle
inversion field', 'tachyon pulse', and 'level 1 diagnostic' drifted
towards them.
"Surprised he hasn't bounced me back to Sickbay yet?" Tom asked
Harry.
"No, my money's on you two surviving the week."
"Thanks for the confidence. Of course, I expect you to split the
pot with me."
"Done." Harry turned serious. "Tom, are you okay about this?
Is it going to be all right?"
Tom cocked an eyebrow in his best Tuvok impression. "Ensign
Kim, whatever are you talking about?"
"Tom, this is *me*. I know you better than anybody on Voyager. And
I see a lot from my duty station, remember? I can see your face when
Chakotay talks to you. I can see your back stiffen when he and the
Captain talk to each other. I was the one you got drunk with when we
left them on New Earth."
Tom smiled ruefully. "Harry Kim. Sees all, knows all. How'd you
get so perceptive?"
"Necessity. My best friend likes to hide his real feelings behind
a joke. So, tell me, are you sure about what you're doing?"
"I'm sure. I waited a long time for him to stop seeing Tom Paris,
screw-up, every time he looked at me. Now I don't want to wait
seventy years for more. And if by some miracle or wormhole or
subspace anomaly we were to get home tomorrow, I don't want to spend
seventy years regretting what might have been."
"If you think he'll make you happy..."
"He will. I know it. And I'll make him happy."
"Then you have all my good wishes."
"I'll need them. Thanks, Harry."
****
Chakotay was honestly interested in the details of Engineering for
the last few days, but his attention kept drifting to the two young
men sitting on the couch, intent on their conversation. Their voices
were pitched too low for any words to reach him. Whatever they
were talking about seemed to be intense.
"... and the conduit was completely blocked. I had to have Hansen
reroute the system for five hours until we could replace it. And,
Neelix is actually poisoning the crew so he and Kes can take over
Voyager and turn it into a vacation resort in space."
"That's fine, B'Elanna. Keep up the good work," he replied absently.
"Chakotay, you haven't been listening to me for the last five minutes.
Am I boring you?"
He flushed, sheepish. "I'm sorry. Let's go over those mix ratios again."
This time he tried harder to concentrate on the intricacies of warp
engineering but his gaze strayed again. He was caught short when
B'Elanna growled deep in her throat and began tapping her foot
pointedly.
"Okay, Chakotay. No more engineering tonight. Your mind is
obviously elsewhere. You want to tell me what's so fascinating
about Tom Paris? Last I knew, you still couldn't stand him."
"Live and learn, B'Elanna. It's been an enlightening few days with
the Lieutenant. You know those pictures where you see one image,
but if you blink you get a totally different view? It's like I'm
seeing a whole different Paris ever since the earthquake. He's
not the person I thought he was and I guess I just keep
wondering why I was so blind."
"Don't be too hard on yourself, Chakotay. I had to adjust my opinion
of him, too. So did a lot of people on Voyager. Tom is very good at
hiding himself behind that flyboy persona."
"But I've held onto my first impression of him for much longer than
anyone else. I finally forgave Seska for everything she did to me
and Voyager, but I still held a grudge against him."
"It's hard to stay mad at a Cardassian for being a Cardassian. It's
like hating space for being vacuum. Besides, Tom doesn't make it easy
to know him. It took being experimented on by Vi'dians before I could
understand why Harry liked him."
"Hey, Commander! B'Elanna! Come and join us. Harry's finished giving
me all the latest dirt." Tom gestured to the chairs set across from
the couch. He grinned at the engineer as she came toward him. "Harry
tells me he's teaching you to count to one hundred in Korean."
"He says if I'd just learn to count to one hundred before reacting I
wouldn't break so many jaws down in Engineering. In return I'm
teaching him how to curse in Klingon. He'll be able to insult anybody
in the quadrant without them understanding."
They chatted for a while until Tom's yawns were too obvious for him
to hide.
"Sorry, folks. I guess the party's over. I wouldn't want the
Commander here to tell the Doctor that I stayed up late and indulged
myself riotously."
Harry and B'Elanna said their good-byes and stood up to leave.
Impulsively, B'Elanna leaned down and gave Tom a fast hug.
"Hey, what's that for?" he asked.
"For saving Chakotay and for coming back alive yourself. Don't do
that to us again, okay? Harry and I'll have to kill you if you do
it again."
Tom looked ridiculously pleased. "You say such pretty things. Marry
me, and we can raise little scourges of the spaceways."
"In your dreams, hot shot."
Chakotay escorted them to the door where they once again expressed
their pleasure in the evening.
"Tom, maybe we can get together in another day or two. Do you think
the Doctor would let you sit around Sandrine's for a couple of hours?"
Harry asked.
"I'll bring it up with him, Ensign," Chakotay answered.
"I bet he will, Harry. The Commander and I will probably need another
break from each other by then. The Doctor will find that a little
outing is medically advisable." The blue eyes danced as he glanced
from Harry to Chakotay.
Tom waved to Harry and B'Elanna as they left. "Good party, people.
We must do it again sometime."
Part 3
"Captain's personal log.
"I had thought matters between Commander Chakotay and Lieutenant
Paris could only improve. After the earthquake which trapped them
together, my First Officer expressed his intention to overcome the
resentment he harbored against our pilot. I consider Chakotay to
be a man of great integrity and was pleased that he had found the
courage to question his long-held animus toward Tom.
"At first, it seemed a great success, Chakotay using their
convalescence to get to know Tom. I received glowing reports of
their peaceful co-existence from Kes, who checked on the invalids
several times a day, and from Chief Engineer Torres and Ensign Kim,
the two crew members who know them best.
"Commander Chakotay himself was in the highest spirits as he sat
in my ready room and discussed the upcoming visit to Sandrine's,
their first real outing since being injured.
"Sandrine's... Something happened that night. It happened
practically in front of me, and yet, I am not sure what it was.
"*Whatever* it was, it has set two of my senior staff at odds. It
has been almost two weeks since their away mission, nearly a week
since the Doctor allowed them to return to full duty. A week of
exquisite and scrupulous attention to regulations between the two
men.
"Tom's flying is, if anything, even more brilliant than ever. He
seems to sense problems almost before the sensors register them and
charts elegantly plotted courses around them. His responses to the
First Officer's orders could be used as textbook examples in protocol
at the Academy. He is polite, courteous, efficient, and deferential.
The perfect junior officer, but he is not Tom Paris.
"Chakotay seems to have moved beyond serenity into complete
impassivity. Only his lips move as he gives orders to the conn.
It is as if were he to betray even a flicker of expression he would
collapse, like a building without any supports.
"Tuvok says bridge response efficiency has increased 7% this week.
He could not give me a precise figure for the increase in the tension
level. It is not just those two. Ensign Kim is visibly upset by
their estrangement. Though his performance has yet to suffer, I
can see that his focus darts between Chakotay and Tom every free
moment. B'Elanna sits in the Mess hall and glowers at the both
of them. If something does not change soon, I believe she will start
breaking heads.
"I am at a loss on how to proceed. Who counsels the ship's
unofficial counselor and the man he is in conflict with? I may have
to approach them myself, but I am hesitant to do that unless there
is no alternative. The Captain by necessity should refrain from
interfering in her crew's personal affairs as much as possible.
"There is a personal reluctance as well. A part of me fears that
some of Chakotay's troubles spring from the conversation we had at
Sandrine's that night... "
****
Kathryn Janeway entered Sandrine's to find the party in full swing.
The atmosphere of the bar could range from introspective to rowdy
depending on the mood of the crew, and tonight, they were leaning
toward the latter. Tom Paris had long been a popular member of
Voyager's crew, a happy result of his personal charm, his talent at
holoprogramming, and his daring rescues of more than one crew member
on various missions. His presence had been missed while he recovered
from his injuries.
She headed straight to the fireplace table where he was seated. "Mr.
Paris. Are you sure you're an invalid? I don't think I've ever seen
you look better." That was an understatement. Tom wore a burgandy
shirt that intensified his fair good looks. A faint flush from the
fire lent color to his usually pale face and burnished his blond hair.
His eyes were bright with good humor.
Tom grinned impudently at her. "It's all that TLC I've been getting
from the Commander. Maybe he should transfer to Medical and pursue his
true calling."
"And who would you suggest as First Officer? Yourself?" she asked
dryly.
"No, thanks, Captain. I *like* the Conn. How about Harry?"
"Do I hear my fate being decided?" Chakotay appeared at the table.
"What's this about a new First Officer?"
"Tom was just commenting on what a good nurse you've proved to be. I
have no intention of breaking in a new First Officer, and I won't need
to if you avoid standing under mountains. Speaking of which, we're
about to enter a new system that looks promising from a supply point of
view, but neither one of you is going down. I think you've pushed your
luck on away missions for a while."
"Aye, aye, Captain," they chorused.
Chakotay caught her eye and motioned to the far corner of the bar.
"Captain, may I speak with you?"
She nodded her assent, and they took their leave of Tom. He was soon
surrounded by a crowd of crew members.
The table they headed for was dimly lit and as private as could be
found in Sandrine's. As they seated themselves, she found herself
comparing her clothes to Chakotay's. He wore a simple outfit that
reminded her of his wardrobe on New Earth -- pants, shirt, vest.
In contrast, her crisp grey jumpsuit would not have been out of
place on the Bridge. She sighed mentally. There was no way she
would be comfortable dressing that casually when out among the
crew, even off duty.
She looked expectantly at the Commander. Her spirits plummeted
when she heard him say "Kathryn, I think it's time we talked."
****
Chakotay was in a foul mood. He couldn't believe he had misread the
situation so completely. All the signs had been so positive -- the
sense that the spirits were trying to tell him something, the
realization that life was uncertain, Tom Paris's little lectures on
living instead of just existing.
Paris. He leapt on the thought. *There* was someone he could blame
this whole debacle on.
"'If it feels good, why deny yourself?'" he mimicked under his
breath. "'Seventy years is a long time.'" He flushed furiously when
he thought how quickly he'd let the younger man influence him.
His eyes found the Lieutenant still holding court at the table by the
fireplace. He couldn't help noticing how good Paris looked tonight;
his casual clothes had a party feel. 'No mistaking *that* outfit for
a uniform.' The days of rest had restored his usual vitality, and he
exuded energy. Something, perhaps the synthahol, had increased the
voltage of his smile and the brilliance of his eyes.
'Or maybe he's just eating up being the center of attention. Look at
him -- king of all he surveys.' Chakotay brooded as the crowd around
Tom Paris ebbed and flowed.
'Hanging on his every word. Don't they know he's just telling them
what they want to hear? He'll say anything to keep your attention.
Or maybe he just wants to see you jump through hoops. It's all a
game to him. He probably learned it at his father's knee.
'Who's been caught by him tonight? There's Hansen and Geller -- what,
they *want* to lose more replicator rations? Tellosh -- I thought he
only liked brunettes. Lieutenant deHaas -- she has her hands all over
him. I thought she was practically engaged to that kid in Stellar
Cartography.
'I bet Tom knows. I bet he knows and doesn't care. He's just
stringing her along, seeing how far she'll go. Then it'll be 'Sorry,
Commander. I really don't think this is appropriate. Kindly don't
bother me with your messy emotions.''
Feeding his anger with every step, Chakotay made his way to his
target. The aura of fury crackling around him cleared his path.
****
"Enjoying yourself, *Lieutenant*?"
The crew members around the table hastily excused themselves. No one
lingered within earshot. Gossip might be mother's milk aboard ship,
but no one cared to become the focus of the anger evident in the
First Officer's eyes tonight. 'Let Tom handle it' was the unspoken
consensus.
Warned by Chakotay's sharp tone, Tom replied coolly, "It's a nice
change from the Doctor's internal exile. It's been good to see
everybody again."
"The company of just one person not good enough for you, Lieutenant?
Have to have everyone fussing over you? Got to be the most important
person in the room -- is that a little trick you picked up from Daddy?"
Tom's face turned unreadable. "Is that how it's going to be,
Commander? I tell you a little about myself, and you throw it back
at me? Try your cheap analysis somewhere else. I've been worked
over by some of the Federation's best."
"Oh, that's right, isn't it? Mustn't forget how you've suffered, how
you've been so misjudged." Chakotay's low voice was a sandpaper and
velvet lash. "Is that how you justify playing with other people's
feelings? Is that your reason for trying to ruin their lives and
relationships? Does leading people on give you a thrill, Tom? Is it
a rush to make them think you're interested and then push them away?"
"What? What are you talking about? Ruining relationships? Are you
talking about deHaas? I kissed her because she just told me about
her engagement to Lieutenant Lynch. I wasn't ruining anybody's life
or playing with their feelings... " His voice trailed off and
realization dawned in his eyes.
"Wait a minute. This isn't about me at all. It's the Captain. You
think *she* led *you* on. What'd she do, Chakotay? Say 'thanks but
no thanks?'"
"No, this *is* about you. You've got to stop meddling in other
people's lives," Chakotay hissed.
"Oh, I intend to, Commander. I think I'll start by getting out of
your life. Right now."
Tom got up and unsteadily left the bar. Chakotay dropped into a
chair at the vacant table and felt his rage slowly fading away. A
deeply private man, he couldn't understand why he'd staged such a
public, albeit quiet, scene. What was it about Tom Paris that could
make him forget himself so?
He picked up Tom's abandoned glass. After an investigative sniff,
he downed the brandy with one swallow, welcoming the warming bite.
"Will Tom be able to get to his quarters by himself?"
He looked up at the soft question to find Kes standing in front of
him. Everyone else in the bar was conspicuously *not* paying any
attention to him.
"What was that, Kes?"
"I was just wondering if Tom was going to be all right. I know he
still has trouble walking unassisted for any length of time, and
it's a long way to his quarters."
"Hell," Chakotay said, getting to his feet, visions of an
unconscious Tom Paris laying in a corridor somewhere filling his
brain. He tapped his comm badge. "Computer, locate Lieutenant
Paris."
"Lieutenant Paris is in Observation Lounge C."
The man hadn't even made it off the deck. Lounge C was just before
the turbolift at the end of the corridor. He could picture Tom
stumbling in, unable to go any farther.
"Don't worry. I'll see that he gets to his cabin," Chakotay promised.
He left Sandrine's, unaware of the worried gazes of Harry Kim and
B'Elanna Torres, who had watched the argument and both precipitous
departures from a safe distance.
****
The short walk cooled Chakotay down considerably. He knew his
accusations were completely out of proportion to the situation, but
there was just something about the man that set him off.
The doors to Observation Lounge C silently opened to admit him. He
engaged the privacy lock. He was going to have to apologize. He
hated admitting he'd been out of line. He was going to have to
apologize to Tom Paris. That was even worse. At least he'd made
sure he didn't have to do it in front of an audience.
Tom was curled up in one of the wide window-seats in front of the
large viewing ports. Voyager was entering the small solar system
the Captain had spoken of, and streams of light from the local star
were beginning to fill the room.
Paris turned his head and saw Chakotay standing there. "Come to
share a few more insights, Commander? Well, I'm not interested.
I'm not even the person you want to dump on, am I? Do me a favor.
The next time the Captain dumps you, take it out on *her*. I have
nothing to do with it."
Tom uncurled and stood up facing Chakotay. The sunlight hit him from
the side and lit up his form. Chakotay was struck again by the
jewel-like brilliance of the blue eyes glaring at him. The deep ruby
red of Tom's shirt shimmered where it flowed over his chest and along
his shoulders. The bright blond hair flashed molten gold.
Recognition began to stir in Chakotay, but then...
... Voyager's course altered slightly, putting them in orbit around
the fifth planet. The room was again in shadow, Tom a dark silhouette
against the stars.
"God, how blind can you be, Chakotay? Anybody on the ship could have
told you that the Captain's not ready to get involved with *anybody*.
I don't care what she *says*, it's obvious that her goal is still to
get us back to Alpha Quad as soon as possible. She thinks that no
matter how accepting the crew are of their new lives, *she* can't
become complacent. *She's* got to stay faithful to everything back
home. And if she *did* decide to let go of Mark, she sure wouldn't
end up with you."
Chakotay found his anger returning swiftly. "You're just a bundle of
insight yourself tonight, Paris. Okay, tell me. Why not me?"
Tom shrugged. "You're her First Officer. She needs you in that
capacity too much. It helps her remember she's the Captain. She may
thrive on challenge and exploring the unknown, but she needs a
rock-firm foundation for support. Discipline and protocol are all
she's got to lean on out here. That means no crossing those lines.
"You could've figured all that out yourself if you'd given it half a
thought. You really are blind," Tom said, shaking his head
wonderingly.
"Maybe I am. I sure didn't see through *you*. You egged me on about
the Captain, didn't you? All those little comments about relaxing and
doing what feels good, about finding something to help over the rough
patches....You set me up. You *wanted* me to fail."
"You're not blind, you're an idiot. I didn't want you to fail. I
didn't want you to go after the *Captain*. I just wanted you to
enjoy life a little more. I just wanted you to see there was more
to life than duty. I just wanted *you* -- " He broke off suddenly
and looked away.
"This is a pointless conversation," Tom muttered and pushed by
Chakotay to leave. The doors didn't open as he reached them, and
he stopped, surprised. A hard hand on his shoulder whirled him
about, and he found himself caught between the door and Chakotay.
The bigger man leaned into him, radiating body heat. "Not so fast,
Paris," he growled. "Finish that thought. I want to know what you
really had in mind for me."
"There's nothing to finish," Tom shot back recklessly. "I wanted
*you*. I *still* want you."
Stunned, Chakotay stepped back a step.
"Uh-uh, Chakotay." Tom grabbed his upper arms with surprising
strength. "You've been pushing me all night. It's time for me to
push back."
Before he could react, Tom pulled Chakotay to him and kissed him hard,
full on the mouth.
No tentative, get-acquainted kiss, this. No time to consider or
reflect. This was a deep, carnal expression of desire. Chakotay,
emotions already in turmoil and poised on the ragged edge of
frustration, responded without a second thought. His right hand
tangled in Tom's hair, trying to control the kiss. His other arm
shot around his waist, pulling their bodies in tighter.
Tom continued to plunder his mouth, sending his tongue thrusting
inside, engaging Chakotay's in a dark, sweet duel.
Only the need for oxygen broke them apart. Pulling in deep gasps
of air, Tom sought out the sensitive skin along Chakotay's jawline,
nuzzling and nipping under his ear. Shudders racked the older man,
and he fumbled with the hem of Tom's shirt, finding the hot, smooth
skin of back and belly. He ran his hands up Tom's sides, bringing
the shirt up with them. Tom let him pull it off and toss it aside
before setting to work on the other shirt. Pants and shoes were
hastily discarded in a flurry of hands and heated caresses.
All at once, they found themselves a breath apart, nude bodies
gleaming from a thin film of sweat, chests heaving from labored
breaths. Involuntarily, their gazes dropped to each other's groin,
mentally evaluating the erect cocks that rose in proud display.
"Gonna chicken out now, Commander?" Tom taunted, panting.
"I can keep up with you, Lieutenant. Any day, any place."
"Prove it." Tom lunged at the big man and tumbled them both to the
floor. Chakotay gave a winded 'chuff' as he lost his breath to the
hard body atop his, then lost his ability to regain it as Tom began
to explore with mouth and lips and tongue and fingers.
Their hips began to move in an unpracticed rhythm, rubbing hard cocks
against equally hard stomachs and thighs.
As Tom's hands crept down to his thighs, Chakotay heaved his body
over, rolling Tom completely under him.
Tom laughed low in his throat and redoubled his efforts to reach
Chakotay's groin. Chakotay retaliated by forcing his tongue deep
into Tom's hot mouth and driving his hips downward.
Tom wrapped his hand around Chakotay's cock and began a steady
pumping action. His thumb feathered over the blunt head, spreading
the sticky pre-cum over and around the shaft. Chakotay moaned and
buried his head in Tom's neck, licking and biting the curve of his
shoulder. Helplessly, his hips matched Tom's caresses, blindly
seeking satisfaction.
Chakotay felt the climax began to overtake him as Tom snaked his free
hand between Chakotay's tight buttocks and probed delicately at his
ass. With a muffled shout, he came, spurts of semen covering Tom's
hand and collecting on their stomachs.
A wave of lethargy overtook the older man as he struggled to collect
himself. He dimly realized that he was being pushed onto his back as
Tom pulled Chakotay's legs wide open and lay between them.
Tom used the thick cum to lubricate his hand and cock then began to
slip a finger into Chakotay's ass, stretching the tight opening. A
gentle thrust and retreat. Then, a deeper thrust. A second finger
worked its way inside him. Chakotay's hips rocked up and down,
responding to the new sensations.
Satisfied that Chakotay was ready, Tom withdrew his fingers and
pulled the man's legs to him, draping them over his own thighs. He
guided his hard erection into Chakotay, pushing just barely inside.
He held himself there, letting both men grow used to the feeling.
It shocked Chakotay to feel himself grow hard again, his cock pulsing
against Tom's stomach in time to the pulse of the cock buried inside
him. Flames danced in Tom's eyes as he stared down at him, laughing.
"I never wanted to fuck with your mind, Chakotay. I just want to fuck
*you*."
Tom ducked his head and nuzzled Chakotay's flat nipples, licking and
pulling at the tight buds. He started to pump in and out of Chakotay,
deep measured thrusts which forced the breath from both of them. He
hummed and moaned, the sounds vibrating against Chakotay's chest.
Chakotay tightened his legs around Tom's hips, drawing him in deeper.
Tom's thrusts turned sharp and fast, driving toward his own climax.
He set his teeth into Chakotay's bicept and came, hot cum jetting into
the man beneath him.
As his climax died away, Tom's cock softened but stayed inside
Chakotay. He continued to rock lazily, rubbing against Chakotay's
still-hard cock. He kissed Chakotay again, licking at his mouth. A
second orgasm took Chakotay, smaller this time, as he sucked on Tom's
lips and tongue.
For a time, the room was silent save for their slow breathing. Then
Tom pulled away from Chakotay, the sound of sticky skin parting loud
and evocative. He lay on his side, watching the First Officer. "I
bet you're trying to rationalize this already and deny how good it
felt, but I want you to tell me something. If you're so dead set on
Janeway, how come you never followed *her* into a dark room and
jumped her? How come you waste months alone together on a planet and
end up right where you started, but after a week in my cabin you wind
up here?
"What, no answer?" Tom climbed to his feet and began pulling on his
rumpled clothing. "I'll tell you what. You think about it for a
while and get back to me. I'll let you play this however you want in
the meantime. If you want to go back to Commander Chakotay and
Lieutenant Paris, I'll go along. If you want pretend this never
happened, you're welcome to try, but you're the one who takes such
pride in self-honesty. If you figure out why this happened, I'll be
happy to listen, but don't take too long. I find that *my* patience
is wearing a little thin. You might not like the results if I decide
I've waited too long."
Leaving a speechless Commander lying on the floor, Tom disengaged the
privacy lock and left the room.
****
Deep in his own thoughts, Harry Kim almost didn't hear the doors to
Observation Lounge C open. His reverie was broken by the gasping
breaths Tom Paris took as he leaned heavily against the corridor
wall, waiting for the turbolift.
"Need a shoulder to lean on?" Harry asked, coming to stand by him.
"Who -- Harry? What are you doing here?"
"I saw the Commander's face when he left Sandrine's. He looked ready
to go a few rounds with you as the punching bag. I figured you might
need some help afterwards. The computer told me where you were."
"Hey, I got in a few jabs, too. Call, ughh, call it a split decision."
Tom's face contorted, and he ran a hand over his torso. "I think it
was a little more strenuous workout than the Doctor recommended for
now."
"Do you need to go to Sickbay?" The turbolift arrived, and Harry
guided Tom inside.
"Nah, just get me to my quarters. There's nothing wrong that a
little rest won't cure."
"My cabin. It's closer. Less chance of running into somebody. If
they get a whiff of you, they'll know exactly what you've been doing,
and if they were at Sandrine's, they'll know with who." Harry gave
the order to the turbolift. "I know you didn't want to wait anymore,
but isn't this moving a little fast, even for you?"
"What can I say? He's gorgeous when he's angry." Tom's careless
shrug was cut short by another gasp of pain. "And he's a lot bigger
and heavier than he looks. My god, it was like having another
mountain fall on me."
The turbolift deposited them near Harry's quarters, and they reached
them without discovery.
"Into the shower with you. I'll get you something to sleep in and
put a blanket on the couch."
"Thanks, Harry. I'm going to replicate some tomato soup. You want
anything? My treat."
"No, thanks. Neelix's dinner was almost acceptable tonight. I ate
enough to actually feel full."
Harry had the couch ready by the time Tom left the bathroom. Tom had
a towel slung around his hips and was drying his hair with another.
"Jeez, Tom, you weren't kidding when you said it was like another
mountain landing on you!"
Tom looked down at himself in surprise. New bruises mottled his sides
and flanks while patches of red stood out on his chest, neck and arms.
"It's mostly pressure bruising, Harry. The curse of fair skin and a
gift of a maternal great-grandmother, I think. It looks much worse
than it feels. In a day or so, it'll fade." The humor in his eyes
faded as he went over to the couch and pulled on the sleep pants
Harry had laid out for him.
"I handled it all wrong, Harry. I told him things he didn't want to
hear, and then I grabbed him. He was willing, but it sure wasn't
what he had in mind for tonight. And afterwards? Oh, I was in top
Paris form. I put on my most smart-aleck tone and told him to come
see me when he figures out why he came after me. I told him to try
and pretend it never happened if he wants to. Hell, I practically
dared him to ignore me. Then I said not to take too long or I'd do
something drastic."
"If grabbing the First Officer in the Observation Lounge isn't
drastic, what is?" Harry wanted to know.
"Hell if I know. Like I said, top Paris form. Open mouth, dig
grave. I just reach out for what I want, and it breaks in my hand.
I'll be lucky if he doesn't put me on report."
"You think he really wants to tell Tuvok and the Captain what
happened?"
"No, I guess not. He'll settle for making my life a living hell.
Aw, shit, Harry, it's going to be miserable."
Part 4
"If we could just get them talking to each other....Maybe lock them
in a room together? Or the holodeck? Some kind of cozy setting?"
"We could just shove them out the nearest airlock."
"Uh, B'Elanna, we *are* trying to come up with constructive
suggestions to solve this problem, aren't we?"
"That'd solve it for me, Harry. If I have to watch them *not*
watching each other across the Mess Hall for much longer -- !"
"I know, I know. At least you don't have to be on the Bridge with
them. There's hardly any talking anymore except for the orders. The
Captain looks like she's ready to blow."
"Do you think she knows? I mean, about what really happened that
night? *I* wouldn't have guessed if I hadn't run into Chakotay
before he got back to his quarters that night. I swear I could smell
Tom on him at ten meters. And, I've never seen him quite so blown
away. Hmm....Seska never had that effect on him."
"Do you think she ever cared for him or was it all just an act?"
"I don't know, Harry. I thought she did, but maybe that's because I
didn't want to think of him being with somebody just casually."
"A little jealous?"
"Are you trying to insinuate something, *Ensign*?"
"Hey, calm down. I just meant emotionally jealous. I know I am.
Tom's my best friend, and I want him to be happy ... but if he ever
works this out with Chakoktay, I know our relationship's going to
change some. I won't be the first person he looks to when he's happy
or sad or something happens and he just wants to share."
"I hadn't thought about that. I guess you're right. Tell you what,
if the course of true love finally runs smooth, you and I can hang
out together and commiserate."
"Maquis, you've got yourself a date. Now, how about I go talk to
Tom, and you try to get Chakotay to talk to you?"
"Argh!"
****
"Sweetest, we must do something about Lieutenant Paris. He's hardly
eating anything these days. Look -- Tarjelian yarg stew with leola
root fritters and extra pepper sauce...hardly touched. It's just
not normal!"
"Perhaps he's replicating his meals."
"No, I checked. There's been almost no activity in his ration
account. You know what I think? He's *brooding* over the
Commander.They had a lovers' quarrel, and they've let it get out
of hand."
"A....lovers' quarrel. Really. What makes you say that? They've
never gotten along very well."
"Dearest, not every couple is as open and communicative as we are.
And, there are many odd courtship patterns in the galaxy. Why, did
you know that the Urdox of Mardox Ur insult each other in public as a
declaration of their intent to wed? It's a very polite society, and
one would only insult one's most intimate companion. Oh, I thought
they would make a wonderful pair soon after we met them....The
daring rebel leader, the dashing but troubled pilot. And when the
Lieutenant went back and rescued the Commander even though they
seemed to hate each other -- ! Why, they're almost as romantic as we
are!"
"Even if they do have feelings for each other, surely it's a personal
matter between the two of them. There's really nothing we can do."
"Nonsense! This little tiff is affecting crew morale, and that *is*
my responsibility. And, don't be modest now. I know most of the
command crew comes to you with their troubles -- you're such a
sensitive person with wisdom beyond your years. It's our *duty* to
help them through this difficult time."
"You do have a point.....The tension level among the senior staff is
getting very high, and those two don't seem to be able to work this
through on their own."
"I knew you'd agree with me! Now, why don't you talk to the
Commander while I try to get Mr. Paris to eat something. Maybe
he'd like a nice Talaxian hest with a piquant leola chutney....."
****
"So what's the mood of the crew?"
"I believe for the majority it can best be described as 'anticipatory'.
There is a sense that this is yet another of their usual skirmishes.
Popular opinion is on Mr. Paris's side. He is given credit for saving
the Commander's life once again and for attempting to avoid open
conflict. There is hope that he will soon retaliate in some creative
and publicly amusing fashion. The whole situation is considered
entertaining but hardly serious."
"And for the minority?"
"That is perhaps a better indication of the serious ramifications of
the matter. I'm sure you are aware that when not actively engaged in
their duties, both Ensign Kim and Lieutenant Torres are visibly
preoccupied with Commander Chakotay and Lieutenant Paris. Overall
response efficiency on the Bridge and in Engineering is now down 0.5
percent."
"Damn! I wish I knew what happened that night!"
"Captain....The day after the 'incident', Mr. Paris reported to
Sickbay to be re-evaluated for return to duty. The Doctor was quite
concerned that the Lieutenant had over-exerted himself physically and
had come very close to aggravating his injuries. There were also
indications of new bruising."
"How did you find that out? The Doctor would never release
confidential records."
"I was in Sickbay at the time on an unrelated matter. May I point
out that Vulcan hearing is more acute than Human hearing by a
factor of --"
"You eavesdropped!"
"I do not think that that is an appropriate term for the involuntary
exercise of an evolutionary trait. I 'could not help but hear' would
be a more accurate description."
"In any case, you're implying that Paris and Chakotay fought that
night."
"I imply nothing. I merely state facts. There is another item which
while highly subjective may shed some light on the subject. There
have been several complaints that Mr. Neelix's cooking is less
palatable than usual. It seems he has been preoccupied with, as he
says, 'tempting the Lieutenant's palate with choice delicacies.' It
is his considered opinion that Commander Chakotay and Lieutenant
Paris will not resolve their differences on their own."
"It seems I'm going to have to take a hand in this whether I want to
or not. They warn you about days like this in Command School.
Computer, locate Lieutenant Paris."
"Lieutenant Paris is in the Aeroponics Bay."
"You know, Tuvok, it's times like this that I envy the captains of
Vulcan ships."
****
"Tom, this is the third night in a row you've hidden out in
Aeroponics. Aren't you ever coming to Sandrine's or the Mess Hall?"
"They always need an extra hand here, and I thought it was time for
me to do my part."
"No, it's not. You're just avoiding Chakotay."
"So what if I am? Look, Harry, I told you, I promised him I wouldn't
bother him, and it's obvious he's uncomfortable around me."
"But you can't go on like this. You're not eating right, you're not
spending time with any of your friends, things on the Bridge are
getting so tense.....You've got to talk with him. At least call a
truce of some sort. For the ship, if not for yourself."
"An appeal to duty? 'I could not love thee, dear, so much, loved I
not honor more?' Oh, that's a great tack to take. Chakotay's real
big on honor and duty, but I doubt he'd believe it'd work on me.
Every time he looks at me I can see him thinking 'Is he going to
jump me again? In front of everybody?' I ought to, just to end
his suffering."
"Damn it, Tom, stop putting yourself down. If he doesn't know you'd
sacrifice anything for the good of the ship by now, maybe he isn't
the right one for you."
"Thanks, Harry, but he is the right one. I guess I'm just not the
one for him."
"And you're just going to let it go like this? You're not even going
to fight for him?"
"What am I supposed to do? Say, 'Gee, Chakotay, I know my
reputation, and I certainly didn't give you any reason to doubt it
when we fucked in the Observation Lounge, but I want you to
know that I'm really in love with you and want to spend the rest
of my life with you'? He'd run so far so fast....."
"Maybe you're both underestimating each other. How much worse
can it be than it is now?"
"That's what I'm afraid of."
"Gentlemen. Am I disturbing you?"
"Captain! Uh, no, we were just, uh...."
"I was just showing Harry the root system in this Bentarkan orchid.
What brings you to Aeroponics this evening?"
"I was looking for you, Lieutenant. Can we talk?"
"I was just leaving. Captain, Tom, good night."
"So ... What would you like to talk about, Captain?"
"You. And Commander Chakotay."
"Really."
"Yes, really. Tom, you can't think that I haven't noticed that
dealings between the two of you have been strained for a while.
You're both good officers but this is getting in the way of your
duties. I consider both of you my friends. If there's any way I
can help you, I wish you'd let me know."
"Captain, I don't think that this is something that you can help
with....."
"I know you two have an uneasy past, but you've always been able to
work together for the good of this ship and crew. What could change
that so suddenly?"
"I think that little experiment in togetherness while we were
recuperating was a flaming failure. Neither one of us was at our
best, and I guess we just got on each other's nerves."
"Isn't that a little simplistic? My First Officer can barely
function around you these days. That's more than just
irritation. Tom, did you and Chakotay fight that night you came
to Sandrine's?"
"Captain, fighting between officers is strictly prohibited by
Starfleet Regulation 15 -- "
"I am *not* talking regulations!"
"Sorry, Captain. Look, this....situation is all my fault, and I've
got to be the one to resolve it. Don't blame the Commander. I'll
talk with him and we'll get this straightened out. I promise."
"Thank you, Tom. I look forward to having my officers back to
normal."
"All right, Captain. After all, it isn't like you're asking me to marry
him or anyth--"
"Uh, Tom....."
" ....I'd ....better clean up this mess. I hope the orchid isn't dead."
"Tom?"
" ......"
"Well. That's an unexpected development."
"Captain, I wouldn't jump to any conclusions if I were you."
"Give me a moment to realign my thinking here, Mr. Paris. It
seems I've been on a different page in this little drama."
"Whatever you're thinking is absurd."
"Is it? Surprising, perhaps. Unanticipated, definitely. But not
actually absurd.....Did you know that Chakotay approached me
that night at Sandrine's?"
"I didn't mean to violate your privacy or his, but yes, I figured
that's what he did."
"I told him I wasn't interested in pursuing a relationship."
"It was fairly obvious he wanted a whipping boy afterwards."
"But he didn't take it out on me. I expected our relationship to be
strained for a while, but it wasn't. He didn't change at all toward
me. I wondered why at the time. Now I know. He went straight to
you."
"Like I said, a whipping boy. I was a convenient target."
"Oh, I think he went to the person who roused his emotions the
most. I think *I* was a stand-in for you. If his feelings for me
were as strong as he thought, surely he would have gotten mad at
me and stayed mad, at least for awhile. But it's you he seems
obsessed with."
"He accused me of encouraging him to go after you just to see him
fail. I'm beginning to have sympathy for his paranoia. This is the
last conversation I ever expected to have with *you*.
"I'm glad I can still surprise you, Lieutenant, but I'm serious.
I'd be the worst kind of dog in the manger if I objected to Chakotay
becoming involved elsewhere. It might take me a little while to get
used to the idea, but that's my problem, not yours. I have no
objections to relationships among my crew. However, those
relationships cannot be allowed to threaten the smooth operations of
this ship."
"Have you been talking to Harry? He just finished the same lecture.
He thinks I should have a good long talk with Chakotay."
"That's an excellent idea."
"Are....are you *sure* you're okay with this, Captain? Because if
I have any chance of success, I'm going to grab for it with both
hands. And, after all, I did see him first."
"Tom Paris, you are incorrigible!"
"You're the one 'incorriging' me, Captain."
****
"Commander, may I speak with you?"
"Of course. Come in, Kes. What can I do for you?"
"I thought I might be able to do something for you. I know you've
been very....unsettled since you were rescued. I thought you might
like to talk about it."
"I appreciate your concern, but I'm really not having any problems
about the earthquake."
"Then would you like to talk about Tom Paris?"
".... I -- "
"Please, Commander. I heard some of your argument with Tom that
night at Sandrine's. You were accusing him of manipulating people
for his own amusement, especially you. I think you're misjudging him
terribly."
"What makes you say that?"
"Do you remember the escape from my planet?"
"How could I forget? I almost died when the Caretaker sealed those
tunnels."
"But you didn't. Tom saved you. I didn't know then that you two
were enemies. When we got back to Voyager and I found out, I was
so impressed that he had rescued you. It was one of the reasons I
wanted to come along with you. That kind of selflessness is
virtually unknown among my people. Our only enemy is the Kazon, and
no one would ever risk their life for an enemy."
"Even I wouldn't compare Tom to the Kazon."
"It's an extreme example, but I think it's a valid point. I saw his
face as he decided to go back after you. The man I saw then isn't
capable of the kind of callousness you accused him of."
"I think I know that. I was....very angry with him that night."
"Are you still angry with him?"
"I don't know. I've been putting off meditating and working through
my feelings. I think it's time I finally stopped procrastinating."
"Meditation sounds like a wonderful idea."
"Yes. I should have done it days ago. Thank you, Kes. You've
given me something to think about."
****
I don't want to do this. If I do this, I'm going to end up calm and
understanding. I'll lose my anger at him and right now that's the
only defense I've got. I'd just make a fool of myself around him
again if I let go. If I can just concentrate on all his crimes, I
can keep on hating him. I don't care what Kes said.
He's a spoiled brat who's never had to work for anything in his life.
/His father's an emotional iceberg who never gave him a shred of
affection or approval./
He wasted a Starfleet career. He got in because of connections.
His mistake killed three people. He lied to cover his guilt. They
threw him out when they found out.
/He's the best pilot I've ever seen. No exceptions. He's personally
saved his crewmates many times over. No one 'found out' his
cover-up. He confessed even though no one doubted his story./
He joined the Maquis for kicks and was stupid enough to get caught.
/He was looking for some place to belong, and his incredible bad
luck struck again./
He sold us out for a 'get out of jail free' card.
/He's proved his loyalty to this ship and crew over and over./
He made me want him.
/ .... /
What? No quick excuse this time?
/Love's not a crime./
It wasn't love! At best it was passion. At worst ...
/You know how stupid this sounds? If you want to argue with
yourself, do it properly. You practically promised Kes that you
would./
I don't want to.
/Very mature. Now concentrate. riverstonesmoothcoolhardheavy
waterflowingwearingshapingchangingbirdwingsoftwarmlightenergy
coursingoverunderliftingmovingflying...../
It's cold. I don't ever remember being really cold here even when
it was obviously winter. This chill goes straight to my bones.
Sound is swallowed up by the snow that blankets everything. The
silence is heavy, pressing in, waiting. I can just hear the water
running, sluggishly pushing along the chunks of ice that fill the
stream.
A shaggy form emerges from the trees. Her fur blends with the steel
grey sky and blue-tinged drifts.
"Spirit sister, it's good to walk with you again. I stayed away too
long. I need your guidance."
I follow her through the woods. It's as still as I've ever seen it.
I don't see any sign of life....no deer trails, no bird tracks under
the trees. Everything has tucked itself away, hoping that spring
will soon return.
She leads me to the clearing. I look at the grey-brown mass of
vines tangled at one side. I remember when the bank of
honeysuckle was in bloom, the yellow flowers as bright as the sun,
the perfume shimmering in the air. Bees would industriously gather
nectar as a larger shape darted in and out among the blossoms.
The hummingbird.
It's too cold for it. Has it gone away? There's nothing here to
nourish it. I begin to worry. If it's still here somewhere, how
can it survive?
"Where is the bird, sister?"
She pushes against my knees and forces me into the vines. The
long, thin branches whip against me, scratching my skin, pulling
at me. I push back at them, going deeper into the bank. My eyes
scan, looking for a small shape.
I finally see the nest. It's small, easily fitting into my hand with
room to spare. My breath catches as I peer inside.
A feathered form, still and lifeless. The wind ruffles the feathers,
providing the illusion of breath.
No, wait. The tiny chest *is* moving. I carefully scoop the little
body into my hand and bring my other up over it, securing it in a
warm clasp. I can feel the heat of my hands begin to penetrate the
chill that enfolds the hummingbird.
As the bird comes back to life in my hands, I think of the last time
I saw it, bright and healthy and full of energy. The iridescent blue
body darting about my head. The vivid ruby wings and throat as it
beat the air. The flashing blond hair as the sunlight streamed into
the darkened lounge.....
Oh, spirits of my fathers.
I am as big an idiot as he said. Did my heart know it even then? Is
that why I went to him, my mind full of confusion and hurt? I almost
saw it then but I let myself get distracted.
The wolf nudges again at my legs. I look down at her inscrutable
eyes.
" Yes, I know. I'm a stupid child and you don't know why you put
up with me. I don't know, either."
I hold the hummingbird up close to my face. I can feel the tiny body
quiver as life returns to it. My ears can detect the beating of its
heart.
It's reassuring to hear the steady bang bang bang.....
I hear the sound on two levels at once as the insistant drumming
draws me back to my body ...
****
"Let me in! Come on, I know you're in there! I'll get Tuvok to let
me in if I have to."
"B'Elanna. Why are you pounding on my door?"
"I want to talk about you and Tom."
"I'm rather busy at the moment."
"Let me in or I'll have this conversation with anybody who walks down
the hall -- Hello, Chakotay. Nice of you to invite me in."
"All right. You're in now. Say your piece and be done with it."
"What the hell is your problem, Chakotay? You stare at the back of
Paris's head when you're on duty, but you won't say two words to him
unless they're orders. You stomp out of the Mess Hall the minute he
comes in. You go out of your way to avoid being in the same room
with him. Did I get it wrong when I ran into you the other night? I
had the impression that you had enjoyed whatever happened between
the two of you. But then you act like a frightened virgin around him
all week. Are you afraid he'll attack you or something?"
"I am not afraid of Tom Paris."
"That's not what it looks like from here. Or maybe....maybe you're
afraid *you'll* attack him. Is he that good, Chakotay?"
"B'Elanna!"
"Don't get so uptight. Are you saying you never wondered if he
deserved his rep?"
"B'Elanna, I'm not having this conversation with you."
"Then have it with Paris! I'm sick and tired of watching you two
dance around each other."
"I'm sure you'll be happy to know that I plan to speak with
Lieutenant Paris very soon."
"Oh. Well, good then. Good. I'm glad we had this little talk."
" Yes, it's been a big help. Good bye, B'Elanna."
"Um, yeah. Ok. Well, good bye."
****
"It was easier than I thought. I just marched right in and told
him to go straighten things out with Tom and he said he would."
"That's great! My talk with Tom wasn't so good. The Captain
wandered in, and then *she* had a little talk with him. I haven't
seen him since."
"Oh, dear."
****
"Any success, dearest?"
"I think so. The Commander was planning to meditate. Once he
gets himself centered he'll be able to think clearly. I think he plans to
talk with Tom then."
"Splendid, splendid! Now all we have to do is get Lieuentant Paris
into a receptive mood. A special meal might do the trick. Let's
see. How about bra'al stuffed with leola root and nivi spores? Or
maybe leola root crepes flambe? I've always found that to be a
wonderfully romantic dish....."
****
"Captain, you seem preoccupied."
"Oh, Tuvok, it's you. I'm sorry. What did you say?"
"I said, 'Captain, you seem preoccupied.'"
"I am. I just received a kick in the ego and I'm trying to deal
with it."
"A 'kick in the ego'?"
"A very human reaction, Mr. Tuvok. It seems that something I didn't
want but was sure was mine isn't. Apparently it never was. Some
little selfish part of me is kicking and screaming."
"I ... see. Captain, may I ask a personal question.?"
"Of course, Tuvok."
"Are you refering to your personal relationship with Commander
Chakotay?"
"I can't keep secrets from you, can I? It turns out that I've been
taken at my word. I told the Commander that I wanted to maintain
some distance in our relationship. In turn, he has established a
relationship with someone else.
"Lieutenant Paris?"
"Yes, I guess that 'fight' was more of a lover's quarrel."
"Does Mr. Paris intends to pursue Commander Chakotay openly?"
"Most definitely. If the crew thinks the two of them fighting is
entertaining, wait till they see them courting!"
the end
Once upon a time, that said "To be continued" instead of "The End." But it's been a long time and I've grown too far away from this fandom. I'm afraid it's just going to be a case of "that's all she wrote."
Jaye has written a follow-up, 'Lasting Impressions', to this story, with permission but totally without my input. It's not an authorized sequel.
|
|
Petals & Pixels contact ladyvyola@yahoo.com about this story |