There was a definite ripple of attention as Ensign Harry Kim
strolled onto the holodeck. He was dressed simply in tight, dark
brown pants with small silver circles studded down the sides to his
boots. His white vee-necked silk shirt had long sleeves that flared
dramatically then were caught at the wrists with wide cuffs. He
reminded many of the ladies who were holonovels fans of depictions of
the pirate king. He even had a piratical gleam in his usually serious
face as he quickly scanned the room before seating himself at a table
near the entrance. Malista hadn't arrived. Neither had Natwick. Kim
settled himself for a long wait. The party wouldn't be in full swing
for a few hours.
***********************
Ensign George Natwick strolled onto the holodeck, preening
himself in his chosen costume. With his typical arrogance, he'd
decided to ignore the Mexican theme entirely and was wearing his
usual resort clothes, tight-fitting stretch pants and a tank top that
displayed his muscular build to its best effect. He seated himself at
a table near the bar and cast his eyes around the room as if
searching for someone. He caught Megan Delaney's eye. She gave him a
thumb's up signal. She went to the comm panel on the wall.
Malista stood alone outside the holodeck, gathering her courage.
It was an essential part of the plan for her to arrive unescorted.
The plan, concocted mostly by the Delaneys, had seemed to be simple
and easy to implement, but now---faced with having to carry it out,
Malista was having second thoughts. She took a deep breath
and strolled into the holodeck, her casual air contradicting the knot
in her stomach.
It had all sounded so easy when Jenny and Megan had proposed the
idea. Carried along on a wave of anger, hurt, and other mixed emotions,
it had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, at this moment of
truth, she wasn't so sure.
Susan Nicoletti had arranged for the music to come to a halt
just as Malista walked in. It was like Cinderella making a grand
entrance to the ball! Those who weren't facing the doorway quickly
turned as they noted the reactions of those who were. Malista Shadow
was the focus of all eyes with ten seconds of entering. She looked---
breathtaking.
She was wearing a dark green skirt that fit tightly from her
waist to her knees, then became a river of satin ruffles split from
the knees to the ankles to allow for freedom of movement. She wore a
white blouse with green embroidery that had elastic around the top
that encircled her upper arms, leaving her neck and shoulders bare.
There was absolutely nothing immodest about her costume---yet every
man who saw her felt a compelling urge to caress that pale gold skin.
Malista smiled, a little self-consciously, then with pleasure as
she saw Tom and B'Elanna standing across the room.
"I can loan her my cape," Tom muttered through gritted teeth.
"Don't you dare," Torres hissed, tightening her clutch on his
forearm. "Tom, there's nothing wrong with that costume. She looks
fine."
"She's showing too much skin!" he growled. "Trust me! Some guy
is going to get the wrong idea. Someone will touch her. Then I may
have to kill him."
"Tom!" One look at his face showed B'Elanna that he was serious.
Torres could visualize the plan going up in smoke. There was no way
it would work if Tom interfered, and no way short of knocking him
unconscious to keep him from doing so. Well, maybe one way. She
decided to go for it.
She distracted him. Without giving him time to protest, she
dragged him around behind the flower-decorated trellis, tripped him,
and got a lip lock on him as they sank to the floor locked in a
passionate embrace. Not even concern for Malista could override
his natural response. Within seconds, he'd forgotten Malista's name.
Hell, he'd forgotten his own name---
Susan Nicoletti was impressed with B'Elanna's quick thinking.
Her eyes widened as she sneaked a quick peek around the trellis.
Whew! She fanned herself, stifled a giggle, then turned her attention
back to setting the final stage of the plan in motion. She sent the
signal to start the music again. It was a slow dance this time.
Taking her in his arms, he pulled her close to his body. She
resisted, trying not to make a scene. "George!"
"Come on, Malista. You want to make your little friend jealous?
Cooperate."
She frowned at him. "We're supposed to be dancing, not
wrestling."
Harry watched silently. They were an impressive-looking couple,
tall and good-looking, well matched in height. They danced well
together---for a few moments. Natwick pulled Malista more tightly
against him. Harry's eyes narrowed.
"George!" Malista said under her breath. "You don't have to hold
me so tight."
"I like it," he whispered in her ear, counting on her desire not
to make a scene to insure her cooperation. "You look great tonight,
Shadow."
"You're supposed to dance with me, not be a pain," she shot back
in an undertone.
"I thought you wanted to make your little friend jealous?" he
sneered. "Trust me---I guarantee this will work."
She glared at him. "Stop making fun of him. He's not that
little. Besides, most women don't measure a man's worth by his
height. If they did, you might have a chance with a real woman."
"Real women love this. Besides, it will make him crazy. That's
what you wanted, right?" He used his superior strength in an attempt
to plaster her against his body.
Malista seemed to be resisting, politely trying to maintain a
respectable distance. Harry got to his feet. This might be it.
Malista tried pushing away from Natwick with the hand on his
shoulder, When that failed, she tried to work her other elbow between
them to pry him away. He dipped his head and tried to kiss her. She
dodged and his kiss fell on her cheek.
Megan and Jenny Delaney exchanged dismayed glances. George
Natwick wasn't sticking to the script. This wasn't part of the plan.
He wasn't supposed to get physical---with anyone. They darted a look
at Nicoletti. Susan's eyes were fixed apprehensively on Harry Kim,
who was crossing the dance floor with a determined, almost grim look
on his face.
"George, stop it!" Malista was still trying to push him away
without being obvious about it. At this moment, she'd forgotten the
plan completely. She only knew that he was making her very
uncomfortable---almost afraid--- and she didn't like it. Not one bit.
Natwick felt a tap on his shoulder and turned his head.
"May I cut in?" It was Harry Kim, smiling politely though his
dark brown eyes burned with a heat that should have scorched the
taller man to a crisp.
Natwick eyed the younger man. "Now why would I let you do that?"
"Because you want to keep all your body parts intact?" Kim
suggested, with teeth clenched in a frozen
smile for the benefit of
their audience.
Natwick mulled it over in an instant. He might not like the
young Operations Officer, but he was learning a healthy respect for
him. He wouldn't give up easily and a fight between them would
get nasty before it was over.
Besides, the captain and first officer were seated less than
fifty yards away---and an uncooperative female---Naw, it just wasn't
worth it. Natwick let his arms drop to his sides and stepped back.
Looking her over, he said, "It's your loss, Sweetheart. I hope you
and your little friend will be very happy." He couldn't resist a
parting shot. "She may be more woman than you can handle, but have
fun, little one." He walked back to the bar.
As soon as her hands were free, Malista wiped the feel of his
kiss off her cheek with distaste.
Harry ignored him. Facing Malista, wordlessly, he held up his
arms. She moved willingly into them without a moment's hesitation,
sliding her arms around his neck. She didn't seem to have a problem
dancing closely with Harry Kim. He could feel her trembling. His arm
tightened protectively around her waist. "Are you all right?"
He drew her closer till they were dancing cheek to cheek---or
more accurately speaking cheek to temple. She was wearing heels. He
felt her relax against him as she calmed. She might have learned how
to flirt and pretend to feel comfortable in large groups ---but she
was still a sensitive, innocent young woman who'd suddenly found
herself in over her head with a man she didn't know how to deal with.
They danced for a few moments in silence.
Harry was glad he'd been there to help her, though he wondered
where Tom had gone. Harry had half expected to have to thrust Tom
aside in order to deal with Natwick himself. The music came to an
end. Malista reluctantly released Harry and moved back. He grasped
her hand. "Malista, we need to talk."
She glanced around at the crowd. "Neelix said he programmed a
private balcony, for---" She forgot what she was supposed to say as
she gazed into Harry's honest dark eyes. "There's a balcony up those
stairs where we can talk."
Taking her hand, he led her up the stairs, hiding his smile at
the ease of finding privacy on a crowded holodeck. 'What a remarkable
coincidence!' he thought sardonically. 'And in a crowd this size, no
one else has found it.'
Susan Nicoletti sneaked another peek around the trellis. She
quickly gave Torres the all clear signal---once she got her
attention. Just in the nick of time. If B'Elanna had continued
'distracting' Tom for another few minutes, items of clothing would
have been removed and a major scandal ensued concerning two of
Voyager's senior officers' lack of proper decorum in public places.
Torres managed to get both Tom and herself on their feet before
Nicoletti 'surprised' them by noisily approaching. She brought them
each a cold beverage. Pretending she was unaware of what she'd
interrupted put a strain on her acting ability, but she managed to
carry it off since Tom's mind was occupied with other
things. He was using his hat to fan himself in an effort to reduce
the radiant red heat coming off his body in waves. He moved slightly
away from B'Elanna to remove the stimulus that was provoking his reaction
before he embarrassed himself.
Torres slid her eyes up towards the balcony's location.
Nicoletti nodded, smiling brightly. She bit her lip as she noticed
that Tom had drained his icy glass in three gulps, then pressed the
cold glass to his forehead.
***********************
The balcony was actually a private terrace with a view of the
dance floor on one side and a view of the pool area on the other. The
balcony itself was screened from the view of those below by the large
leafy pots of plants placed intermittently along the rail. The
furnishings consisted of one table, two chairs, and a large love
seat. The terrace was lit by branches of candles that provided a
soft, romantic glow.
Harry fought to stifle a laugh as he took in the transparently
obvious stage setting. He wondered which of Malista's friends had
planned this part of the evening. He would bet on Nicoletti. Or maybe
Torres. The Delaneys would have been even less subtle. They probably
would have included a bed, rather than a love seat.
As they reached the balcony, Malista pulled her hand from his
and turned away from him to look out over the railing to the dance
floor below. Other couples were dancing and enjoying themselves. She
didn't want to look at Harry Kim. Her guilt at deceiving him
threatened to overwhelm her.
"Malista, is something wrong? Did Natwick scare you? I won't let
him hurt you, I promise," he said soothingly.
"Harry, don't," Malista rasped, her voice catching in her
throat, strangled by unshed tears. "Please, I can't do this!" She
couldn't bring herself to look at him.
"Can't do what?" Harry inquired lightly, coming to stand
just behind her, not touching her, but mere inches away. "Malista?"
he said questioningly. "I thought we came up here to talk."
"Harry, stop. Don't be nice to me," Malista rasped, her voice
catching in her throat, strangled by unshed tears. Her hands clenched
around the railing. "Please, I can't do this! I can't play these
games. Maybe Jenny and Megan can, but this just isn't me," she
replied, a hint of desperation appearing in her voice as she tried to
control her roiling emotions. "It's dishonest. I'm sorry."
"What games?" He put his hands on her bare shoulders, his thumbs
delicately rubbing small circles into the softness of her golden skin.
She exhaled a shaky sigh and fought an impulse to lean back
against his chest and beg him to put his arms around her. "Dating
someone different every night, flirting with other men in front of
you to try to make you jealous---manipulating you. I mean, if you
were interested, you'd let me know. Right? I wouldn't need to---And
if you aren't---I don't want to ruin any chance of friendship by ---"
The words froze in her throat like cubes of ice as she felt his
hand stroke down her arm then up the bare skin of her shoulder and
throat. His fingers brushed her hair back behind her ear. "Wh-what
are you d-doing?" she stuttered breathlessly.
"Moving your hair out of the way," Harry whispered just below
her ear. He gently tipped her head back to rest against his shoulder.
His lips explored a trail up, down, and around her neck, pausing to
rest momentarily on the pulse beating, ever more rapidly, against his
mouth.
She twisted away from him and whirled to face him, backing up to
the balcony railing, holding her hands up to keep him at bay as he
pursued her. "Harry, what are you doing? Are you playing games now?
Is this some kind of revenge---"
She stopped as she caught a glimpse of his expression. There was
no anger on his face. He was smiling at her---sweetly, as if
she'd
said or done something that pleased him enormously. She wanted to
reach out to him and gather him into her arms---but she couldn't.
There were too many misunderstandings between them. He held his hand
out to her once more.
"Harry?" There were multiple questions contained in the one
spoken word--- questions and an element of hope. Trustfully,
hopefully, she placed her hand in his.
He led her to the love seat. As they sat next to each other, he took
both her hands and held them between his own. She waited for him to
begin.
He smiled at her and squeezed her fingers. "Malista, this time,
can we talk until we're both very clear on what we mean? I have a
feeling that I haven't been communicating too well. And this time,
we're going to try being honest---and open. No more half truths, no
more pretending. Okay?"
She felt her heart melting in the warmth of the look in his eyes
and his smile. "Okay, let's communicate this time---honestly."
"Honestly is a good idea," he agreed. "Openly is a better one.
When I told you I wanted to be---just friends---I wasn't being open
or honest. I was still trying to protect myself---and you."
"I don't understand."
Harry frowned as he tried to think how to phrase his next
comment. "I wanted to be friends---but not just friends. But I wasn't
sure if that was what you wanted." He sighed. "There has to be an
easier way to communicate. After that night, after your first
'kissing lesson', I knew I was attracted to you. I knew I liked you
very much. But---I wasn't sure how you felt or if there was going to
be a future to our relationship---or if you even wanted one."
Her doubtful expression told him she wasn't sure what he meant.
"I kissed you back, Harry. I enjoyed it."
He knew he was going to embarrass her, but he'd told her he'd be
honest. "Malista, I was the first man you ever kissed. Your response
could have been purely physical."
She was blushing and looking down at their joined hands. "I
don't think that's what it was, Harry. I've been kissed by other men
since then."
The green-eyed imp of jealousy pounced on Kim's shoulder,
jumping up and down and shouting in his ear. He swallowed hard and
spoke carefully. "Really? Who?"
She didn't look up. "I let two of my dates kiss me good-night