you. She cares about you. She's afraid of losing you. She's also
afraid of confrontation. She needs to learn that you can disagree with
someone without it getting out of hand," Tom suggested. "Let her know
that you don't mind if she doesn't always agree with you. Maybe
B'Elanna and you and I can role model that for her. We don't always
agree, but we don't get mad or abandon our friendship because of it."
"She's always acting like each time she sees me, it's going to be the
last time," Harry admitted. "Do you think she really expects I'm going
to just walk away? I'm in love with her!"
"Have you told *her* that?" Torres asked. At his blank look, she
continued. "She's not a mind reader, Harry. How is she supposed to
know what you think if you don't tell her? If she's as insecure as Tom
says, she may need to hear it. And hear it often. I think Tom's
right." She looked at Paris, her hand going up to stroke his cheek.
"You are right. I listened to her today. She does run herself down. I
counted at least three times when she called herself 'stupid'."
"She's not stupid," Harry protested.
"I know that. Tom knows that. You know that. But I don't think Malista
knows that," Torres replied. "I also noticed that every time someone
mentions the words 'Starfleet Academy', she flinches. And sometime
soon after that the topic of her 'stupidity' comes up."
Paris and Kim studied her with something akin to amazement.
Torres shrugged. "I noticed the correlation. Some of the Maquis have
kind of a chip on their shoulders about not having attended the
Academy. With Malista, it's more like she thinks she'd never have
passed the entrance exam. I tried to ask her about it. She won't talk
to me either. She's not as comfortable with me as she is with you."
"I've been giving that some thought, too. She's never had a female
friend before, B'Ella. Her mother died when she was a kid and she was
raised with a father and a herd of older brothers. She's not sure how
to relate to women. That's great, isn't it? She doesn't know how to
talk to women and she's afraid of men." Paris stifled a yawn. "Harry,
you keep on doing what you've been doing. Being yourself. Your kind,
supportive self. Don't push her too hard for information. I'll talk to
Doc and Chakotay tomorrow and let you know if there's anything else
you can do to help. And I'll do some snooping. As many gossips as we
have on this ship, you'd think someone could tell me what the real
problem is."
"We're going to help Malista, Harry," Torres reassured the young man.
"I have an idea or two of my own. She needs to be less passive. Maybe
I can help her with that. I'm planning on working out with her in some
of Natwick's self-defense exercises in the holodeck."
Kim tried not to let his trepidation show as he protested, "B'Elanna,
that might not be such a great idea---"
Torres shrugged. "It can't hurt. She and I might do a little female
bonding while we're getting our adrenaline flowing."
Paris and Kim exchanged doubtful glances. "We're in this together,
Harry," Tom said. "We'll find a way to help Malista through this. To
help both of you."
Harry Kim went to his quarters, his mind greatly relieved.
Temporarily.
***********************
Tom Paris was seated at a messhall table alone when Harry Kim arrived
for dinner. It was the first time in days that the foursome were going
to risk Neelix's cooking for the evening meal. It was Tom's idea. He
thought Malista needed to get out more socially instead of retreating
to her cabin or Harry's.
The ensign frowned slightly as he approached. "Where are Malista and
B'Elanna?" He was a few minutes late himself. He'd expected all three
of his friends to be waiting for him.
Paris grinned and shrugged carelessly as he set aside the data padd
he'd been reading while he waited. "I don't know. I guess they're both
late."
Kim's frown deepened as he seated himself. "Strange. Malista is always
on time. Wait a minute!" he exclaimed. "Wasn't today the day they were
going to try out one of Natwick's battle simulations?"
When the Engineering staff had completed the last of the replacements
of a multitude of power couplings, Captain Janeway had authorized
extra hours off duty as a reward for all their hard work. B'Elanna
Torres and Malista Shadow had decided to use some of their time off to
work out together on the holodeck in a combat training exercise.
"Yeah, so? You think they forgot the time?" the lieutenant asked. He'd
expected no less. B'Elanna tended to lose track of everything when her
interest was engaged---at work or at play.
Harry looked worried. His brow furrowed as he glanced at his
chronometer. "That could be it, I guess." He didn't sound very
convinced.
"Harry, what's wrong? Surely, you don't think---"
Before Paris could finish the thought, Kim slapped his commbadge.
"Computer, location of Crewman Shadow?"
"Crewman Shadow is in Sickbay," came the bland reply.
Kim bolted from his seat and was out the door before Tom could get to
his feet. "Harry!" He sank back into his chair, his unruffled
demeanor belying a sudden twinge of concern. "B'Elanna would *not*
hurt Malista," he muttered under his breath. But it wouldn't hurt to
make sure. He slapped his own commbadge. "Computer, location of
Lieutenant Torres?"
"Lieutenant Torres is in Engineering."
Now Paris was frowning. Why had she gone back to work after her time
off? He hadn't heard of any crisis in her department. She tended to
try to bury herself in work when she was upset. Maybe Harry was right.
There might be a reason to check up on the two women. He got to his
feet and strolled toward the exit.
************
Ignoring the startled glances of his crewmates, Harry Kim was all but
running by the time he reached Sickbay and burst through the doorway.
He skidded to a halt in a manner more commensurate with Tom Paris'
famous last minute entrances than his own more proper Starfleet
behavior. His eyes darted quickly around the room, checking each
biobed for occupancy.
"Can I help you, Ensign?" the Emergency Medical Hologram inquired
sarcastically as he stepped out of his office. "Or did you just stop
by to catch your breath before the next leg in the race in which
you're obviously participating?"
"Where's Malista? Crewman Shadow?" Kim panted, slightly out of breath.
"Harry?" Malista popped up from behind a console in the surgical bay.
"Is something wrong?" She looked perfectly fine, though puzzled by his
urgency.
He sighed with relief. "No. It's just the computer said---you were in
Sickbay."
"And here she is. What a remarkable coincidence!" the doctor
exclaimed. "Now that we've established that we're all here, would we
all like to get back to work?"
Kim shot him an impatient glance. "I thought she was hurt. She was
working out with Lieutenant Torres today."
The doctor nodded
understandingly. "I can see why you might be
concerned. However, I am an excellent physician and I believe I can
say with some assurance that if Malista had been injured I would have
repaired the damage by now. She has been in Sickbay for the last two
hours."
Harry's surprised brown eyes flashed back to the young woman. "That
was a short workout." It wasn't quite a question.
She didn't meet his eyes, but returned to working on the panel before
her. "Yes. We didn't spend a lot of time in the holodeck."
Kim drew nearer, until he faced her from the other side of the
console. "What happened?"
She shrugged and recalibrated the spanner she held with great
attention to detail before returning it to her kit.
Now he knew something was wrong. He'd had a bad feeling about the
whole idea the moment that Torres had mentioned her plan to join
Shadow in the training simulation. While Malista and B'Elanna might be
friends off duty, their temperaments were very different---almost
polar extremes. He had suspected that might cause some problems when
Torres had offered to tutor Malista in self-defense, but hadn't been
able to talk B'Elanna out of the idea.
When upset, Malista tended to withdraw and become quieter. When
B'Elanna was upset, she tended to get aggressive and loud. It was not
an ideal teaching situation. Especially not when Torres was Shadow's
immediate superior in the chain of command.
"Malista?" Harry said coaxingly, quietly. "What happened?"
"Nothing." She reached down to pick up her tool box and set it atop
the console. "I've finished, Doc. That should take care of the
glitches in the surgical field projector. I just ran a final
diagnostic of the system."
Kim came around to stand beside her and took the heavy case from her
hand.
"Harry," she protested, "I can carry it."
"You can," he agreed amiably, but determined to have his way. "But you
won't. Not when I'm here to carry it for you." He knew very well that
she lugged her heavy toolbox all over the ship during the course of
her shift, but his good manners were too ingrained to let her do it in
his presence when his hands were empty.
She beamed a smile at him as if he'd just handed her a bouquet of
flowers. "Thank you." He'd noticed it before. The smallest courtesy
from him pleased her out of all proportion to the deed. For some
reason, that worried him.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the doctor was making a
face. And some people thought he wasn't real? He became more human
every moment of his existence in Malista's opinion. "Good night,
Doctor. Let me know if you need anything else repaired. And as for my
lessons, I've almost finished studying human anatomy and I've been
working on learning the emergency procedures. I'll find some time to
practice them, I promise."
The doctor smiled at her, pleased with regaining her attention. He was
more pleased and pleasantly surprised when she kissed his cheek
affectionately as she passed him. That was the second time she had
done that. His hand went to his cheek wonderingly as the couple
exited. He enjoyed having her as a student. She had the proper respect
for his abilities. She was quickly becoming his favorite
crewmember----next to Kes, of course. Which reminded him that he
wanted to talk to Kes about spending less time in airponics and more
time in Sickbay. She was neglecting him---her duties.
Harry was determined to find out what had happened between Malista and
B'Elanna. He wasn't going to let a simple misunderstanding get totally
out of hand---not this time. Never again.
********************
Paris was approaching Engineering when Torres barreled out of the
doorway at full speed---almost ramming speed, but he sidestepped
quickly and prevented a collision. "Whoa!" He held up a hand, waving
it lazily in her line of sight.
She stopped dead in her tracks and glared at him. "What?!" Her chest
was heaving, her breathing labored as if she'd been exerting herself
physically.
He raised his eyebrows. "You're late for dinner," he said mildly,
trying a polite, friendly smile. Torres automatically labeled it Smile
Number Four on the Torres Scale of Paris' Expressions ---polite,
friendly, slightly concerned---it reached his eyes, but didn't convey
his feelings.
"Don't *start* with me, Paris!" She stormed away, leaving a wake of
tension behind her that he could follow like a path back into the
Engineering Department. Several faces were staring out at him. Most
noticeably Joe Carey, who jerked his head at Paris as if telling him
to follow Torres then rolled his eyes heavenward as if making a plea
Tom followed, but at a slower pace. His longer legs made it easy for
him to trail just behind her, though she was moving more quickly.
They rode the same turbolift to deck six. Still without speaking, she
charged off to Holodeck One, where the Sandrine's program was running.
He hesitated in the corridor, trying to decide if now was the best
time to talk to her, or if she preferred to be left alone.
His decision was made for him when she stuck her head out into the
corridor and snapped, "Well? Are you coming or not?" Without waiting
for an answer, she ducked back inside and went to find a drink and a
table---in that order.
"Thank you for that gracious invitation, Ms. Torres," Paris murmured
coolly. Lazily lifting one eyebrow, he ambled toward the entrance. He
took it as a good sign that she actually *wanted* to talk to him.
Though he'd begun to open up to her more often, it was still a rare
occurrence for her to let her guard down with him.
By the time he joined her at 'their' table, she already had their
favorite drinks waiting and was drumming her fingers impatiently on
the table. Fortunately, except for the ever present holocharacters,
the two of them had Sandrine's all to themselves.
He spun the chair around and eased down onto it with his customary
grace, resting his folded arms along the top of its back. He put his
chin on his forearms and just regarded the chief engineer objectively
as he waited for her to speak---or explode. She was seething. He
wouldn't have been terribly surprised to hear molten lava was bubbling
through her veins. He was amazed there was no steam escaping from her
ears.
"What happened?" he asked calmly.
"Harry was right. It was a mistake to try to work out with Malista!"
she snapped. "I should have known she'd be hopeless!"
"What happened?" he repeated in the same unruffled tone.
"She wouldn't *fight*!" Torres was outraged. Her tone invited him to
enter into her feelings.
Paris frowned. "I thought it was a self-defense program. Isn't
fighting the whole purpose of the exercise?"
"Exactly." B'Elanna nodded decisively. "But she wouldn't. She wouldn't
attack. All her moves were purely defensive! She kept backing away!"
"I assume you pointed this out to her?" he ask
ed mildly.
B'Elanna got louder. "Yes! She quit! She left the holodeck!! She
wouldn't fight back!!!" She waited for his response, eyes narrowed as
she tried to read his thoughts.
"Just walked out?" Tom raised an eyebrow. His voice was getting
quieter with each rejoinder.
"Yes!" Torres replied indignantly. She found herself lowering the
volume of her own voice to match his.
"Didn't argue with you?" Tom's voice was soothing. She didn't remember
noticing before how soothing his pleasant tenor was.
"Exactly." Torres' voice had returned to its normal tones.
"Hmmm."
"What's that supposed to mean, Paris?" She sounded accusatory. "Are
you taking *her* side?"
Tom batted his blue eyes at her with exaggerated innocence. "Me? Would
I do that?" he asked softly.
Torres growled under her breath. "Yes. You would! But you shouldn't!
You should have seen her---she wouldn't even fight back at all until
she was cornered!"
"Disgraceful," he said, curling his upper lip in scorn. His voice was
almost a whisper. A contemptuous whisper.
"Well, it is!" She was gratified that he was finally agreeing with
her, but not entirely convinced of his sincerity. She took a long cold
drink of her synthale. "What kind of fighter is she? I'd hate to be on
an away mission with her. If fighting was called for, she'd go hide