out of bed---I called home---to talk to my father---"
"Malista," Harry interrupted, his heart was aching at seeing her
pain. He hovered behind her chair, his hand outstretched toward her
shoulder---then he let it drop to his side, afraid she would shrug it
away---or recoil in distaste from his touch.
"Let me finish! I asked my father if I could come home. He
wanted to know why---and when I told him---he said---" A sob escaped
her. "He said I had no home there any more. I had made my bed---and I
could lie in it with the Maquis scum I had chosen over my own
family." She coughed to clear her throat. "Then---Niko died. And
Tom convinced me that I could start a new life here on Voyager---with
the crew as my family---Harry, I've lost too many people. I can't
play games with relationships. I don't think I could take another
loss. It almost killed me to lose you once---I couldn't do it again.
So, please, if you aren't sure---don't---just don't---" Her voice
failed her. She stretched her arm out on the desk and lay her head
down atop her forearm.
When Harry could trust himself to speak, he blurted, "I am sure.
I'm sure
I want to try again, Malista. I'm sorry I hurt you---and myself by
walking away. I won't do that again. I want a relationship with you-
--if you'll give me another chance. I think I'm falling in love with
you!" For a long moment, she didn't move or speak. Maybe she didn't
feel the same way. Maybe he'd really blown it---forever.
She sighed as she straightened in the chair, struggling to
regain her composure. She didn't know what to say. What if he hadn't
heard the rumor? And he found out after they made up? What if he
found about George? If he was jealous before, without reason---how
much worse would it be if he thought he did have a reason. He'd think
she lied---
She couldn't go through the process of losing him again. She
hadn't recovered from the grief of losing him the first time. But he
sounded sincere. "Why tonight, Harry? Why did you choose tonight of
all nights to come apologize?"
Silence.
She waited.
He cleared his throat. "I talked to B'Elanna tonight and she
helped me think a little more clearly about what I wanted. And how
stupid I was not to talk to you about the way I felt---the things
that were worrying me. Then when I was on my way here to talk to you,
I---ran into George Natwick."
Malista felt the blood freezing in her veins. She covered her
face with both hands, mumbling, "Oh, Merde! He told you! I can't
believe he *told* you!" Her humiliation was now complete.
"He didn't tell me anything, Malista," Harry corrected, upset
that he'd managed to distress her further. "He just said for me to
come and apologize to you---tonight---before you did some other
stupid thing to make me happy. When he said you were trying to make
me happy, I thought maybe---there was a chance---that you still
cared! What stupid thing did you do, Malista? What was he talking
about?"
"STUPID!" she shrieked, leaping to her feet. "He said it was
stupid! That overgrown, muscle-bou---" Her diatribe stopped in mid-
syllable as she whirled to confront Harry and got a good look at him
for the first time. Her eyes dilated their full width. "*Harry*!" she
exclaimed, horrified. "What happened to your face?"
Harry was frozen in place by surprise, hope, and happiness at
her reaction. She still cared about him. He hadn't killed all her
feelings for him with his asinine insecurity.
She rushed toward him, her hand outstretched to lightly touch
his face, tipping it up towards the light so she could get a better
look. The cut above his eye had bled continuously, leaving a trail
down the length of his face and neck, soaking into the collar of his
shirt. The right side of his jaw was rapidly turning blue, as was his
swollen lower lip. She winced sympathetically. No wonder his speech
sounded slurred. "Harry," she whispered, "why aren't you in Sickbay?"
"It was more important that I come talk to you," he said gently.
Taking advantage of her nearness, he slipped his arm around her waist
and tried to pull her closer. "What happened to your lip?" He
frowned as he noted her lower lip was puffy and had been bleeding.
"I bit my lip. It doesn't matter." She caressed the uninjured
side of his face. "Oh, your poor face! My poor Dark Angel! Darling,
does it hurt very much?" She stiffened with outrage. "Who *did* this?
Did Tom---"
Harry, who'd been enjoying her commiseration and touch, had
hoped they could spend a little more time talking and making up while
she tended his wounds ---before it occurred to her to ask who'd
inflicted them---and why. "No! Of course it wasn't Tom!"
Her hands tightened on his shoulders. "Then who?" Her eyes
narrowed to slits. "George? George Natwick did this?" She didn't
wait for Kim's nod of confirmation before she whirled out of his
arms. "He tells you I'M doing STUPID things---and then he HITS YOU! I
am going to beat that man senseless and drag him down to the brig by
his heels!" She looked ferocious, like a Valkyrie in one of his
medieval literature holoprograms. He was glad she was on his side.
A smile tugged at his lips and he groaned at the pull of the
sore spot.
She was at his side again instantly, all her concern for him.
"Harry, you need to go to Sickbay." She cupped his chin in her palm.
"Malista," he said. She looked into his dark eyes. This time he
let his eyes do the smiling and kept his mouth still. "You don't have
to get George. Tom already did. Simms and Hudson took Natwick to the
brig. Before I came here."
"Good. Then there's no reason we can't go to Sickbay right now!"
she insisted, tugging at him to get him moving.
"I don't think I have the strength to walk that far," he said
plaintively.
Her stricken green eyes flew to his.
"Unless you give me a kiss first," he finished.
"Since we both have sore lips---" She gave him a warning smile,
but dipped her head to carefully brush her lips against the left side
of his mouth. "That's about as good as we can do right now," she
sighed. "Until we get you taken care of in Sickbay."
"Sickbay, Sickbay. I never knew you were such a nag," he
protested, as she linked their arms and escorted him out to the
corridor. "But I think I like it."
"There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Harry. And
vice versa. Promise me one thing?" she asked seriously. He nodded
carefully. "No more games. You can talk to me about anything---no
matter how---embarrassing. And I'll talk to you. Any time. Because I
think I'm falling in love with you, too."
He began walking twice as fast. "Come on. Let's get to Sickbay.
I want to have my lip and yours taken care of, so I can kiss you
properly!"
She laughed and matched his pace.
***********************
Sickbay was rather crowded when they arrived. The doctor was
&nb
sp; attending to Freddie Bristow, who was lying on the biobed in the
surgical bay. Lieutenants Tuvok, Torres, and Paris were standing near
the doctor's office dispassionately and unsympathetically observing
Freddie's moans, groans, and flinches as he submitted to treatment.
Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay were near the Sickbay
entrance speaking in quiet tones to Kes who seemed to be giving them
a report. Near the wall, Ensigns Hudson and Simms, looking suitably
menacing, were guarding their new prisoner.
Harry and Malista entered, looked around, and found an empty
biobed to sit on as they waited for the doctor to be free.
"I feel really dumb, Mik," Ethan Simms complained under his
breath. He shot a sidewise glance at the prisoner and shook his head.
"I feel like a---hulking brute."
Mikel rolled his eyes and looked at his partner, over their
prisoner's head.
"It's the job, Ethe. You arrest the guilty party---whether you feel
dumb or not."
Their petite prisoner craned her neck and gazed from one to the
other with defiant brown eyes. "Oh, both of you be quiet! If Security
would keep that menace, Bristow, from pestering everyone with his
hormone overload, this would never have happened!"
Ethan flinched from the scathing tone he'd never expected to
hear from Diane Russell, the ship's librarian. She was usually the
shyest, quietest---well, not any more!
Crewman Dalby charged into Sickbay and came right to their
prisoner. "Diane! Are you all right?"
"I told you I could take care of myself, Aron," she sniffed
indignantly. "Why do you think I took that self-defense course?"
Dalby beamed at her proudly. "Did you break his jaw?"
"No, fortunately, she did not," Commander Chakotay replied. He'd
finished his conference with the captain, spoken to the doctor, and
was now ready to deal with the---criminal in this case. He had to
work hard to keep a straight face. It made him look sterner than
usual. "Mr. Bristow is not seriously injured. His nose is broken and
he's suffering from---multiple contusions to---various parts of his
body." He cleared his throat. He didn't choose to be more specific.
It would have made it harder to keep from laughing.
"Does she have to go to the brig?" Dalby asked anxiously.
Diane didn't seem overly concerned by the prospect. She was
still seething with anger at Freddie Bristow's refusal to believe
that 'No' meant 'NO!'---not 'maybe'. She was none too happy with the
security team who'd placed her under arrest either. She glowered at
her guards as if tempted to demonstrate her self-defense expertise on
them as well.
While Russell hadn't exactly resisted arrest, she'd come close
to it. They'd been grateful for the presence of Lieutenants Paris and
Torres, who'd persuaded her it would only postpone the inevitable if
she didn't accompany the Security team--- peacefully. Hudson and
Simms again exchanged nervous looks over her head. It would be
difficult for them to find the will to defend themselves if attacked-
--by this small woman. Not to mention that no matter what the outcome
they would feel humiliated.
Chakotay bit the inside of his cheek to stifle a chuckle. Ethan
and Mikel were extremely easy to read. "Actually, I think we've come
to an agreement---if you don't press charges for sexual harassment,
Mr. Bristow will not press charges against you for assault."
Dalby started to roar a protest, but halted without a word when
Diane held up her dainty hand. She frowned sternly up at the first
officer with her 'librarian look'---the one that made people lower
their voices automatically when they entered her milieu. "Will that
include a promise that Mr. Bristow will leave me alone in the
future?"
Chakotay nodded. "Of course." He whispered conspiratorially, "
I think, Diane, that when you threw him against the wall, it may
have knocked some sense into him. If that didn't do it, the kick to
the---ribs---when he was on the floor finally convinced him. I think
he's sure this time that you honestly aren't interested in him
romantically."
"Then I'm dismissed?" she asked snippily.
The commander nodded. Mikel and Ethan tensed as she glowered at
them once more before flouncing out of Sickbay with a beaming Dalby
on her heels.
Mikel shuddered and shook his head. "Aron Dalby must have it bad!"
Ethan nodded sagely. "I can't believe Aron Dalby---and Diane
Russell."
Chakotay grinned at Simms. "And how is Janine Lamont doing this
days, Ethan?"
Simms blushed furiously. "Aw, c'mon!"
The first officer took pity on him. "You two are dismissed."
Hudson and Simms left to go back to the Security section---until
they received another call. Or until their shift ended. Whichever
came first. Usually the graveyard duty shift was much quieter. Maybe
there was a full moon---somewhere.
Captain Janeway was inspecting Harry's bruises. Chakotay went
to join her.
He noticed that Malista Shadow was sitting next to the ensign on the
biobed, her arms wrapped around him protectively. Harry was holding
onto her for dear life, looking more alive and alert than he had in
weeks---in spite of his injuries.
Paris and Torres drifted over to the impromptu meeting as well.
"Well, Harry? Well, Sis?"
to her for
affirmation. She smiled bashfully and ducked her hot face into his
neck. His shy
sweetheart would never feel comfortable with being the center of
attention. That was all right with him. He didn't like it much
himself. "And this time," he added, "we're staying together!" His arm
tightened around her. She squeezed him tightly in silent agreement.
"That's wonderful, Mr. Kim," Janeway said with a cool smile.
"Now can we discuss how you come to be in Sickbay?"
"Mr. Natwick is in the brig for inflicting Mr. Kim's injuries,
Captain," Lieutenant Tuvok reported. "Ensigns Simms and Hudson
are waiting for statements from Ensign Kim and Lieutenants Paris and
Torres in order to complete the incident report."
Harry Kim and Tom Paris exchanged speaking looks. "Uh, well---."
Harry began.
"Leave him in the brig to rot," Malista growled under her
breath, tenderly stroking Harry's throat with one hand.
"It wouldn't hurt him a bit," Torres agreed mercilessly. If
Natwick had hurt Tom, she would have been the first to vote to eject
the man out an airlock.
Janeway raised an eyebrow at Chakotay.
He shrugged. He didn't know how George Natwick hadn't gotten
involved in this affair either. Or why Malista and B'Elanna would
feel such antagonism for him.
Paris tried to mollify Torres, drawing her aside and leaving
Kim to deal with Shadow. "Come on, B'Ella! George isn't such a bad
guy! He didn't hurt Harry much---" He could tell that line of
reasoning wasn't going over well so he abandoned it in less than a
heartbeat. "B'Ella, if he hadn't---made a fool of himself--- those
two might have dragged their heels for weeks before they kissed and
made up!" That was a telling argument. Paris had no grudge against
Natwick. He'd actually done them all a favor by facilitating Kim and
Shadow's reconciliation. Besides, who wanted to spend time in the
Security Office filling out reports?
"I was getting awfully tired of talking to everyone about their
problems," she admitted, for Tom's ears alone. She grimaced. "Oh, who
cares about George Natwick? He can live for all I care," she said
generously.
Harry had come to the same conclusion as Paris. If George hadn't
hit him and aroused Malista's sympathy for Harry's injuries---it
might have taken hours to get to the kissing and making up part. With
a little persuasion and, to be honest, the shameless use of his
injuries to garner sympathy, Kim brought Malista around to the same
viewpoint. His most telling argument was that George had wanted
Malista---and didn't get her. Kim told her that was punishment
enough---for any man. That piece of romantic nonsense was enough to
melt her opposition to setting the ensign free. She told Harry she
would leave it up to him.
She'd think of another way to get even with Natwick---herself.
George had not only rejected her---never mind, that she was glad he
had---but he had *hit* Harry! Her friend, Jenny Delaney, would help
her think of something appropriate. Harry just didn't understand.
Revenge was a moral imperative. Especially for a Greek.
Cheerfully unaware of the plots hatching in his quiet beloved's
head, Kim turned back to his senior officers. "What happens to
Natwick if I don't press charges?"
"Mr. Natwick will be released," Tuvok stated. "However, there is
still the matter of Mr. Paris' assault on Mr. Natwick."
B'Elanna thrust herself in front of Tom, ready to protest but
was stayed by Captain Janeway's uplifted palm. "I think that since
Mr. Paris was trying to restrain Mr. Natwick from assaulting Mr. Kim,
his actions were justified. Has Mr. Natwick expressed any interest in
filing counter-charges against Mr. Paris?"
"No, Captain," Tuvok replied. "His only apparent interest is in
persuading Mr. Paris to instruct him in the use of the grappling hold
used to subdue him."
"You have to admire a man who's single-minded about improving