speaking to each other with polite formality when necessary. An
objective observer would have thought they were merely acquaintances
rather than the best of friends.
Tom had made an effort to talk to Harry in the messhall over
lunch. Harry made an excuse and left the table before Tom could offer
more than a greeting.
Tom didn't want to discuss his feelings about the situation with
B'Elanna. She was becoming increasingly frustrated, but refrained
from pushing him as she read desperation in his eyes. She didn't know
what to do about it. She didn't know what caused him to suddenly
study her pensively, almost despairingly, then suddenly snap out of
it. The abrupt transitions left her feeling---inadequate. She didn't
understand his moods, or what he might be thinking---all she knew was
that he was unhappy. And that, in turn, made her unhappy.
She had to talk about it or burst. Harry Kim was an automaton
these days.
Otherwise she might have considered talking to him. He was her
friend. He was Tom's friend and might be able to give her some
insight---normally. But these weren't normal times. He and Harry
weren't totally ignoring each other---but their easy rapport had been
shattered. Each man carefully weighed his words when speaking to the
other. And Harry had taken to avoiding Tom whenever possible so there
was no chance to recapture their friendship.
Chakotay. She had to talk to Chakotay. She slapped her commbadge
as she strode out of Engineering at the end of her shift. "Torres to
Chakotay."
"Chakotay here."
"Are you busy?"
"Not too busy. What do you need, B'Elanna?"
"I need to talk."
"Come to my cabin. These reports can wait."
"Let me change out of my uniform. Be there in fifteen minutes.
Torres out."
Commander Chakotay looked at Kathryn Janeway who was sitting
across the table from him. "Captain?"
Janeway smiled understandingly. "Commander, if you're going to
have a chance to do something about the situation that is making my
senior staff act like strangers---you can take all the time you want
on these reports. I'm glad one of them decided to talk to you. As
Counselor, or friend."
"I hope I can help."
Janeway gathered her datapadds and stood. Chakotay walked her to
the door. "Let me know if I can help you. It's getting to the point,
I'm afraid to look at Tom or Harry. I don't know what's going on---
but I get the feeling the situation is like a rubber band that's
being stretched tighter every day---"
"And you don't want to be in the vicinity when it snaps?"
Chakotay said, amused by her analogy and its accuracy. The tension of
the bridge had been almost unbearable---all the more so, because
there was nothing out of line that could be acted upon.
Janeway nodded. "Maybe we can finish these reports later." She
left with one last encouraging smile.
***********************
Tom couldn't help feeling a sense of relief when B'Elanna
canceled their standing dinner date. She'd said she had some reports
to go over with Chakotay. Tom didn't want to admit it, but he needed
some time away from her.
When he was with her, he could feel himself trying to cling to
her---as if by holding onto her, he could keep her from slipping away
from him. He knew she would hate feeling---smothered. So he fought
his urge to cling---but that just reinforced his need to be reassured
that she still---wanted him.
Since Harry and Malista had broken up, his mind continually
returned to a single train of thought: If Harry can't handle a
relationship, how can I?
Harry was a stable personality. He was straightforward emotionally.
Intelligent. Normal. So normal as to border on weird in Tom's
opinion.
Next to Harry, Tom was practically a basket case. His childhood
had been unhappy---with a pushy, perfectionist father who'd left him
feeling inadequate and unsure of his self-worth and a passive mother
who'd tried to please her husband, at the expense of her children.
He was an ex-con with the direct responsibility for three deaths on
his conscience. Something that still haunted him from time to time.
Tom wasn't sure he truly understood what love was or how it was
supposed to work. How could B'Elanna Torres be interested in a long-
term relationship with him? He wasn't---worthy of her.
He was sure Chakotay must have taken an opportunity to point that out
to her. The first officer was her mentor. They had been through a lot
together in the Maquis. He'd supported and encouraged B'Elanna and
put her forward as a candidate for the position of Chief Engineer of
Voyager.
Tom wondered if B'Elanna secretly wished that he was more like
Chakotay. The first officer was steady, reliable, brave, honest, and
had many other good qualities that Tom found lacking in himself. Tom
hoped and prayed that nothing ever forced Torres to choose between
her relationship with him and her friendship with the Commander. Tom
was nearly positive she'd choose Chakotay.
She was so---beautiful, so talented, so intelligent, so spirited---
Why would she settle for him?
Because she was physically attracted to him?
Tom knew very well that physical attraction was often fleeting--
-it burned itself out! Others had burned out on him---before he
burned out on them. Suzy Crabtree came to mind. Rickie---or at least
the women she composited. Unless there were other common shared
interests, beliefs, goals---did he and B'Elanna have any of those?
Was it really love B'Elanna felt for him? A love that would last? Or
was it simply lust? Was she looking for fun and physical pleasure or
something more? How could he tell? Should he risk asking her---risk
telling her---No. He couldn't bring himself to say---even think the
words.
His thoughts were distressing. He settled onto his recliner and
tried to read. He couldn't concentrate. His mind kept wandering in
circles back to questioning his relationship with B'Elanna Torres.
Could it last? Would it?
He needed to do something. Something physical. His hand started
for his commbadge. Automatically, he started to signal Harry Kim. He
halted as his mind caught up with reality. He couldn't talk to Harry
about this. Harry didn't want to talk to him anyway. He slapped his
commbadge. "Lieutenant Paris to Crewman Shadow."
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
"Malista, where are you?"
"I'm on my way to exercise. You want to join me?"
"Yes. I'll be right there. Paris out."
Tom dressed in the royal blue tights he'd replicated for
himself. If he was going to learn to fly on a trapeze, he would look
the part and be properly attired. Of course, he had opted not to
apply spangles and sparkles to his costume. That would be silly. He
slipped his robe on, snagged a towel, and started for the holodeck.
***********************
Chakotay had rearranged his furniture
to allow a larger clear
space for B'Elanna to use in pacing. When she was upset, she tended
to move restlessly, often recklessly. He had also taken the
precaution of moving all his breakable decorations into the sleeping
section of his cabin. She occasionally like to throw things, too.
The door signal sounded. "Come."
She didn't charge into the room. That was a bad sign. She seemed
hesitant. She seated herself on the chair, opposite his position on
the couch. "Chakotay," she said, as a greeting.
"B'Elanna." He waited.
She ran her hands up and down the chair arms, rocking back and
forth in the seat. She bit her lower lip and watched him.
He tilted his head.
She scowled at him.
"I thought you wanted to talk."
"I don't know how to start," she snapped.
"Start at the beginning," he suggested.
She jumped up and began pacing. "Don't give me platitudes! You
probably can guess what I want to talk about anyway!"
"I'm not in the mood for guessing games. Why don't you just tell
me?"
His head swung back and forth as he followed her movements.
She stopped. "It's about---Tom." She focused a glare on him.
"Well, aren't you going to say 'I told you so'? You said our
relationship wouldn't work!"
"When did I say that?" Chakotay asked, one eyebrow up.
"You said---what did you say then?" she demanded. She'd carried
on so many arguments in her head, she couldn't be sure who had said
what to whom. Or if she'd been talking to herself.
"I said that there was no point in pursuing the relationship if
you were afraid and jealous. Is that the problem?"
"Yes! No! Not exactly," she groaned. She flopped back into the
chair. She snapped forward and leaned toward him, resting her elbows
on her thighs as she gazed at him intently. "Chakotay, tell me---give
me an honest opinion---how Klingon am I?"
Her friend wasn't sure where that had come from. "What do you
mean?"
Instead of answering, she threw another question at him. "Do you
think Tom is a coward? Honestly? Tell me the truth. I need to know."
"A coward?" Though surprised, the first officer took his time
to think carefully before answering. He needed to organize his
thoughts. This wasn't what he'd expected her to talk about. "No. I
don't. Why do you ask?"
She tore her fingers through her hair and pulled on it in
exasperation. "I'm just so confused! Tom won't open up. I can't tell
what he's thinking."
"His defenses have been in place for a long time, B'Elanna. He
was a loner for some time before coming to Voyager."
"Malista says Tom is afraid to talk about his feelings, about
his past--- because he's afraid he won't live up to my expectations!"
she exploded. "How can I convince him that he shouldn't be afraid?"
"You can't," Chakotay stated flatly. "No one can convince
someone else that his fears aren't valid. Especially not in these
circumstances."
"What circumstances?"
"Let's go back to your other question. How Klingon are you? If
Tom doesn't trust that you'll understand his past, your Klingon
heritage may have some bearing.
Everyone knows that Klingons value honor and fighting spirit above
everything else.
If you're looking for the Klingon ideal in a mate---Tom Paris is not
it," Chakotay concluded.
"What? Why?"
"B'Elanna, you can lie to yourself if you want---but that won't
solve the problem. Think about it for a minute. What attracted you to
Tom in the first place?"
"He's handsome," she stated.
"His looks? Is that all?" Chakotay prodded.
"No!" she growled. "Of course not. I appreciated his sense of
humor. He was Harry's friend---so I wound up spending time with him
and I found out he was--- clever ---more than just a pretty face.
Intelligent---when he wants to be. And he actually is as good a
pilot as he thinks he is. He pretends to be callous, but he's very
gentle. Protective---of Harry. Of Malista and other people---even of
me. He always offers to help if he thinks---" She seemed to be
following her own train of thought.
"What would your mother say if you brought Tom home with you and
introduced him as your---husband? What would her opinion of him be?"
Chakotay waited as she thought over her answer.
"She'd hate him," Torres blurted. "At first sight!"
"Why?"
"He's not---fierce. He's always so unruffled, so easy-going.
She'd mistake that for softness or weakness. He doesn't like
fighting."
"Anything else?"
"He never loses his temper. That worries me. If he doesn't get
angry, to me that means he doesn't feel things deeply---strongly."
"He gets angry, B'Elanna, he's just not as *noisy* about it as
you are! Not everyone shouts and throws things. You know that. Some
people get quieter---and are the more deadly for it. I get the
feeling Tom may fall into that category. What else would your mother
say?"
B'Elanna's eyes dropped to the floor. "He was a traitor to the
Federation ---and a traitor to the Maquis."
"Lacking a sense of honor altogether?" Chakotay determinedly
kept his tone neutral.
She jumped to her feet, eyes flashing. "He has a sense of
"Really?"
She glowered at him. "What are you getting at?"
"The things you just said about him?" She nodded. "That's the
reaction he may think he'll get from you. If you're more Klingon,
than human."
She sank back into the chair.
"Do you agree with your mother's assessment?"
"No! I know Tom. He's not---weak. He's not a coward. He may not
be a Klingon's idea of a warrior---but he is a fighter. If he wasn't
he wouldn't have survived--- " She decided not to finish that
thought. "It's just that he---doesn't react the way a Klingon would.
He's not a Klingon. He's human," she murmured, half talking to
herself.
Chakotay nodded. "Exactly. Tom made mistakes in the past, but
he's learned from them and grown as a result. He's not a coward. A
coward wouldn't volunteer for suicide missions. More than once. He
risked death to save my life on the Ocampa homeworld. He saved your
life."
Torres remembered. It was when she'd been taken prisoner by the
robotic race and forced to build a prototype. Tom had volunteered to
take a shuttlecraft and flown in the line of fire of the two battling
starships in order to rescue her. "When we were prisoners of the
Vidiians, he stood between them and me--- encouraged me when I was at
the lowest point of my life. He risked his life to expose Michael
Jonas as a traitor. He did the same thing when he took the
shuttlecraft and went after the Talaxians. He saved the whole crew
from being exiled on that planet."
"I wouldn't go that far. He did have help from the Doctor and
Mr. Suder,"
Chakotay corrected. "But I wouldn't call him a coward. He'll fight---
when he has to
---but that's his last resort, not his first choice. He
prefers to use his wits to avoid trouble. Do you start a fight when
faced with overwhelming odds?"
"Not unless you're stupid---or suicidal---or Klingon," she added
ruefully. "But what does that have to do with Tom?"
"Most of his life Tom hasn't fit in and he's been outnumbered---
at the Academy, in prison. Here. Think about it, B'Elanna. What would
you have done if the whole crew of Voyager had despised you when you
came aboard? The Maquis came to this ship as a group. We had friends
to give us support as we settled in and became one crew. Who did Tom
have?" Chakotay had been spending some time giving serious thought
and analysis to Tom Paris---ever since B'Elanna Torres had begun to
show an interest in the pilot.
"He had Harry." Torres frowned. "And Captain Janeway. I don't
think I could have fit in---I would have punched out the first person
who looked at me funny." She began to pace again.
"That would win friends and influence people," Chakotay
commented wryly. "You couldn't fight the whole crew---any more than
Tom could. So, if you can't beat them? And they won't let you join
them?"
She stopped her restless movements and faced Chakotay. The light
dawned as she suddenly saw things from Tom's point of view. "Oh.
Direct confrontation ---wouldn't accomplish anything. So you pretend
you don't need anyone, but you keep being friendly as if the
hostility doesn't bother you. And you entertain people with your
sense of humor---until they began to like you or at least tolerate
you in spite of the rumors they've heard about you. No wonder he
doesn't talk about anything important. Most people never took what he
said seriously. He won them over with his actions."
"So if no one believes what you say, or no one wants to hear the
truth because they already know a version of it that contents them---
why bother to speak about it at all?"
"But I'm not just anyone! I'm the woman he wants to---get
serious about!"
"You believe that?" Chakotay raised one eyebrow.
"Yes!" she hissed emphatically, pushing her face right into his.
"He does care about me. I'm not just another notch on his bedpost. He
isn't just curious about the sexual appetites of Klingon women!"
Chakotay winced. He knew that was a sore point with her. He'd
lost count of the number of men---and a few women---who propositioned