Torres touched her hand. "Just make sure you do it in a public
place. I don't trust that guy alone with you---or any woman, for that
matter."
"Thanks---Sis," Malista said jokingly. "I will. I guess you
didn't mean any of the things you said to make me angry?"
"No. Of course not," Torres replied. "If I really thought you
were using or
manipulating Tom or Harry, you'd have known about it a long time ago.
I don't keep things to myself very well."
They sat and enjoyed the scenery on the holodeck for a few
moments as they cooled off and their blood pressure returned to
normal.
"Aren't you supposed to be resting?" Shadow asked finally.
"You aren't going to believe this," Torres said with a wicked
grin. "I feel very relaxed. Fighting with you was good for me. I
vented a lot of frustration."
Shadow eyed her askance. "If you say so. I'm worn out. I feel
like I just ran a marathon. I think I need a nap. Can I ask you
something?"
"Sure."
"Are you really jealous of my relationship with Tom?"
B'Elanna shifted uncomfortably. "Not really. I know he literally
has adopted you as a sister and thinks of you that way. I think he
misses his older sisters. I do wish he'd talk to me the way he seems
to talk to you. He won't discuss his past, his feelings about
anything more important than books he's read---stuff like that."
"And when you ask---?"
"He changes the subject---or tries to kiss me---or makes a
stupid joke," B'Elanna confessed.
Malista winced and nodded. "I've been doing the same thing to
Harry. He doesn't like it either. And now Harry has started to---act
funny. He doesn't---oh, I don't know. He watches me all the time and
when I ask him what's wrong---he says nothing. But I don't believe
him. Sometimes I think he's jealous---but that's silly. We settled
that issue when we decided we'd see each other exclusively."
"Maybe Harry just feels a little insecure. He'll get over it. I
wouldn't worry about it. I do want to know one thing, Malista. What
were you going to say when I asked why Tom talks to you and Harry?
You said 'Maybe because neither Harry or I---'. What?"
Shadow shrugged. "I don't want to hurt your feelings, B'Elanna."
"Then tell me the truth!" she demanded impatiently.
"Can you handle the truth?"
"I don't know until I hear it!"
Shadow met her eyes directly as she replied. "Neither Harry or I
have ever rejected Tom. Like you did. In the messhall that day."
"We didn't have---we hadn't made a commitment to each other
then," Torres replied defensively. "You can't really say I rejected
him. I told him I still wanted to be his friend."
"You'd been getting closer, friendlier, even flirting with him--
-he was beginning to trust you and open up," Malista stated. "Then
you---without warning, as far as he was concerned---suddenly changed
your mind. You decided you wanted to be 'just friends'. You pushed
him away. Without a real reason. Can you wonder that he's not sure if
he can trust you? Have you made a commitment to him now? Have you
opened up to him? B'Elanna, you have to earn his trust all over
again. It's going to take time."
"And I'm not the most patient---" Torres began. "I never meant
to hurt him. But you know what bothers me? It's not just that he
won't talk to me---it's that he never gets---upset. I never see him
knocked off balance. He never loses control."
She pounded the table with her fists, attempting to vent her
frustration. "I don't trust anyone who never loses his temper."
"And Tom doesn't trust anyone who doesn't cry," Shadow stated
matter-of-factly. "You two have some problems. You each want to stay
in control of yourself, but you want the other to surrender control.
How are you going to work it out?"
"We can't work it out if he won't talk to me!" Torres snarled,
leaping to her feet and beginning to pace.
"He's afraid to talk to you," Shadow said reluctantly. She
didn't know how much she should say---how much she could say. She was
treading a fine line between helping a friend and betraying a
confidence.
"Afraid?" Torres snorted a disbelieving laugh. "Tom Paris,
anything."
The taller woman shook her head sadly. "Underneath---the real
Tom is a sensitive man. He cares deeply and sometimes he---his
emotions---He thinks if you see him---vulnerable---He knows about
Klingon honor. He's afraid you'll think he's a coward or a weakling.
He knows you've heard the rumors about him, but what if he tells you
which ones are true? He's afraid you'll be disappointed once you get
to know the real him---and you'll brush him off---again." Her final
word held a shade of condemnation.
"Before you push Tom into confiding in you, B'Elanna, you'd
better be damned sure you can handle the truth. If you can't---leave
him alone. Break it off now, before you both get in any deeper. I
don't think---I don't want to know the man Tom will become if you---"
Tears filled her eyes. "Just think carefully. I don't know how many
more rejections Tom can deal with. There have been too many. And yes,
he pretends he doesn't care, that it doesn't matter---that it's a
self-fulfilling prophecy ---but he does care! He cares passionately.
He's just learned not to show it. Because if you show people where it
hurts, it's like painting a target on your back---it shows them just
where to hit you to hurt you the most."
Torres took a deep breath. Her chest felt tight---or perhaps it
was her heart, aching for Tom Paris---and for Malista---and for
herself---they'd all learned that lesson from painful experience.
B'Elanna hated to think Tom thought he had to protect himself from
her. "You two are a lot alike, aren't you?"
"Yes. Tom reminds me of some of the Greeks in my colony. My
father's people are emotional---men and women alike---laugh, shout---
and cry easily---It makes them a passionate people. Some of us have
learned to hide that passion for life---that sensitivity---to keep
from getting hurt. " Malista's face might have been carved in stone,
it was so lacking in expression. But, as with Tom, her eyes expressed
the unspoken pain she felt.
"I have to get back to work," Torres said, moving toward the
exit as if escaping. "Thank you. I will think long and hard. I don't
want to make another mistake."
Malista watched her go then turned back toward the lake,
breathing deeply and trying to regain a sense of peace as she thought
about Harry and their relationship. 'Maybe tonight,' she told
herself. 'Maybe tonight would be a good time to tell him---what he
wants to know. To let him know---that I want him. That I want more
than kisses from him. If that's what he wants, too. Maybe he can help
me learn how to...Maybe I won't be scared with Harry. He always makes
me feel safe. He's so reliable.'
***********************
As soon as Harry Kim got off duty, he went to check on Malista
Shadow. The computer had given her location as Holodeck 1, which was
running the resort program. He had covered most of the resort before
he found her. No one else was around. That was probably why she felt
comfortable using the program and dressing appropriately. She was
wearing a bathing suit, lying face down on a lounge chair next to the
swimming pool. He grinned at the sight of those long, shapely, bare
legs. He loved those legs.
Harry started to call out to her then realized he might startle her
as she lay basking in the holographic sunshine. He decided to wait
till he got closer. As he neared, Freddie Bristow came out from
behind a partition and sat down next to her on the edge of the chair.
He began to rub oil on her bare back.
Harry felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach. Malista wasn't
even flinching away from Freddie's touch. She'd had Harry convinced
she was afraid to be touched in such an intimate manner. And now she
was letting Freddie Bristow---
Harry spun on his heel and left the holodeck. If he'd waited ten
seconds longer, he would have felt much better and saved himself and
everyone else a lot of heartache. Maybe.
A half-sleeping Malista, becoming aware of the size and warmth
of the hands on her back, abruptly awoke and sat up. Identifying
Bristow, she shoved him off the lounge chair and darted to her feet.
"What happened to the holographic pool boy who was doing that?" she
demanded, snatching up her robe and slipping it on to hide her body
from Bristow's appreciative gaze.
"I deleted him?" Freddie returned, hauling himself to his feet
with an
appeasing, carefully calculated smile. He had been interested in
Malista Shadow for weeks and had decided this was an ideal time to
make his move. He found it impossible to believe she wasn't secretly
delighted by his attentions. "I didn't mean to catch you by
surprise. Why don't you lie down again? I'll rub oil on your legs."
Malista stared at him in amused disbelief at the sheer gall of
the man. "No, thank you. And keep your hands off!" she added
emphatically.
"Aw, come on, Malista," he said cajolingly. "I just want to get
to know you better." He was tall, young, strong, and handsome. She
couldn't possibly prefer Harry Kim who was almost three inches
shorter than she was, and nowhere near as attractive as Freddie---in
Freddie's opinion anyway.
"You're incredible!" Malista announced, spinning on her heel and
stalking away.
Freddie pondered that for a few minutes. Was she being
sarcastic? Or merely playing hard to get?
***********************
Tom Paris was in the process of changing into his civilian
clothes when his door chime sounded. "Come," he said as he pulled a
blue tee-shirt over his head.
Harry Kim stalked in and flung himself onto the recliner in
Tom's living area. "Women!"
Tom raised an amused eyebrow. "Are you just now figuring that
out?"
Harry glared at him. Stomping around in his quarters for forty-
five minutes hadn't calmed him. If anything, his mood was worse. He
felt ready to explode. Actually, the feeling had been building for
days---like a bonfire being built stick by stick. Now the fuse had
been lit.
"What now?" Tom said, dropping easily into the arm chair
opposite Kim.
"Malista."
"Oh."
"What do you mean 'Oh'?" Kim said, somewhat belligerently.
Tom shrugged calmly. "I don't know. What do you want me to
mean?"
Harry shook his head, leaned back against the headrest, and
fixed his eyes on
the ceiling.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not especially."
Paris frowned at his friend. "Then what are you doing here?"
Harry sighed. "I don't have anyone else to talk to."
"Then talk to me."
Harry eyed him for a moment. "I don't know if I should."
"Why not?" Paris said with some degree of exasperation.
"Because I don't want to---I don't want to make you have to
choose between Malista and me."
Tom winced. "That bad?"
"Yeah." Kim looked thoroughly depressed.
"Go ahead. What did she do?"
"She was in the resort with Freddie Bristow!" Harry exploded.
"We're supposed to be dating each other exclusively---and there she
was as big as life---in the resort with Freddie Bristow!"
"Come on, Harry," Paris said placatingly. "The resort is an open
program. Everyone comes and goes there."
"He was rubbing oil on her back!"
Tom winced again. "Whew," he whistled.
"And she says she doesn't like to be touched! HA! She probably
wouldn't even let ME do that!" Kim bounced to his feet and stood in
front of Paris, accusingly. He seemed to be demanding an explanation.
"Did you---ask her---"
"No! Of course not! I left the minute I saw them!"
"Well, then," Tom said reasonably, "you don't know if it was a
date or just an accident that they were there together."
"He was rubbing oil on her back!" Harry repeated forcefully and
indignantly. "Her *naked* back!"
"Hold it!" Paris shouted, suddenly incensed. "She was
*NAKED*?!"
"No! Don't be an idiot!"
"You said she was *naked *!"
"I did not! I said her *back* was naked---and he was rubbing oil
on it!"
Paris' brows met in the middle as he tried to understand. "Wait!
So her back was naked, but the rest of her wasn't?"
Kim threw him an exasperated glare. "She was wearing a swim
suit!"
The pilot relaxed back into his chair. "Oh, well, good. Well,
what else would she be wearing at the resort? Did she look good in
it?" He sent a wicked grin at his friend.
"What?! Paris, of course she looked good---too good! And that
*baktag* Bristow had his hands all over her! And she *wasn't*
objecting!" He'd learned a few Klingon insults in his association
with Torres.
"Do you think he drugged her? Or got her drunk?" Paris asked,
half seriously. He couldn't think of a more plausible explanation for
Malista's allowing Freddie Bristow or anyone else---except maybe
Harry---to touch her so intimately without objecting.
"No. Even Freddie's not that desperate," Kim muttered, resuming
his pacing.
Paris smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. "Of
course, that's it!"
"What's it?!" Kim growled irritably.
"If she was asleep, she might not have known it was Freddie!"
"Who else could it be?"
Paris stood and blocked his friend's path. "Come on, Harry. You
know the answer to that one. Most people use the holographic people
to apply oil and fetch towels, that kind of thing. She may have
thought it was a hologram putting the oil on her back. She's not
afraid of holograms. They aren't programmed to get fresh. And if they
do, all you have to do is delete them."
"How can I find out? If
she doesn't want--- what if she wants to
see other people?"
"Ask her."
"Yeah, sure," Kim said sarcastically.
Paris sank back into his chair. "Okay. You don't like the
direct approach? How about casually mentioning Freddie Bristow? If
she's been cheating on you with him, you'll get a guilt reaction.
Malista isn't sophisticated enough to hide her feelings that well---
yet. We're supposed to meet B'Elanna and Malista at Sandrine's for
dinner in ten minutes anyway. Come on, Harry. What's really going on?
I thought you settled the jealousy issue when Malista quit playing
games with the Delaneys."
Harry's shoulders slumped. He looked the picture of
discouragement. "I don't know. She won't communicate with me. If I
try to get her to talk about anything that matters, she---uh---
distracts me."
"How does she do that?" Paris teased, suspecting the answer.
Harry glared at him. "You know. She starts kissing me or---
touches me. If that doesn't work, she finds an excuse and leaves. Why
won't she talk to me?"
Paris shrugged uncomfortably. Harry's description was beginning
to remind him forcefully of complaints from Torres about his own
refusal to open up. "Maybe she's afraid. Of your reaction. You might
not like what you hear."
Kim frowned, deep in thought. "And she never argues!"
"You *want* her to argue?" Paris raised an eyebrow.
"As opposed to being a---doormat, yes!" Harry exclaimed. "She
never gets angry or tells me no, she just leaves---she disappears.
Even if she's in the same room---if you know what I mean. I know I
made her mad when I tried to get her to perform at our next concert,
but she wouldn't even admit to that. She makes up excuses. She's not
being honest with me about her feelings. And if she's not honest
about her feelings, how can I trust her---" He broke off. He hadn't
gotten near the subject of what was really bothering him, but this
was getting a little too personal and Tom was beginning to look
extremely uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. "Oh,
never mind. We'll work it out."
"Sure, you will. Just be patient," Paris advised. He almost
thanked his friend for giving him a glimpse of how B'Elanna must feel
when he refused to share his feelings with her. But that wouldn't be
tactful. "And don't worry about Freddie Bristow. I'm sure there's a