Disclaimer: All characters and the universe herein belong to Paramount. I'm just borrowing them because they're too wonderful for me to leave alone. This story and whatever made-up names I came up with, however, are mine. © 1998. Synopsis: Painful memories of B'Elanna's past resurface when she considers her feelings for Tom. Set an indefinite amount of time after "Blood Fever." Rated PG. Note to reader: Although this is the second story I'm "publishing," I began this story almost a year ago and have just been editing on and off. I only began watching Voyager in its third season, and I'd never seen an episode before that, therefore I don't have very much character background to work with, so I apologize if anything is incorrect. I'll stop rambling now … Let's not let me forget to thank my wonderful beta readers, Maryann and Theresa! ~ Buried Treasure ~ Barbara J. Chin dsnyaladdn@aol.com "Damn!" With the inflating levels of frustration coursing through her system, B'Elanna Torres felt no pain as she slammed the heel of her hand into the unforgiving computer terminal. The console continued to blink unresponsively, ignoring her as it had since she first stepped foot into Engineering that morning. Her eyes narrowed in annoyance as she stared up at the swirling blue mist of the warp core. She was beginning to feel that the baby plasma storm they ran into earlier that day did more damage than they had initially suspected. Ensign Vorik glanced up from his station, taking note of her sudden outburst. "I take it that re-aligning the relays was unsuccessful?" She couldn't help but notice that the young Vulcan's impassive tone almost made it seem like there was a mocking quality to his voice. "Yes, very much so," she said, struggling to keep her voice even. "Perhaps you should take a break," Vorik suggested. "You've been in Engineering for the past ten hours, neglecting time for food and rest. Your cognitive functions would operate at a higher efficiency after a brief interim." But before she could say anything to object, he continued. "Do not worry. The rest of us will be able to … hold down the fort, as humans would say." The others in Engineering looked up at Torres, chuckling at Vorik's attempt at humor and nodded in agreement. She glanced around the engine room, only now noticing a wave of disorientation. It took a few moments to clear her mind which was beginning to turn to mush, saturated with warp core physics and calculations. "Computer, what time is it?" she demanded. "Twenty hundred hours," the monotonous female voice of the computer replied. Torres groaned to herself. She'd been so oblivious to the passage of time that it didn't even feel like half of those ten hours had passed. "Fine," the chief engineer reluctantly conceded. "I'll be back in twenty minutes." Without waiting for confirmation or protest, she marched hastily to the turbolift, somewhat glad that one came right away. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew the ensign *did* have a point. The doctor had been chiding her about being erratic in her eating and sleeping habits for months now. And although she wanted to get warp drive back online as soon as possible, she had no intention of receiving another long-winded lecture from him anytime soon. She hurried into the Mess Hall, only to stop short when the pungent smell that permeated the room suddenly surrounded her. It wasn't an odor that she necessarily considered bad, but it certainly was stronger than anything she'd smelled before. She made a failed attempt to resist making a face as her sense of smell tried to adjust, and could only imagine what Neelix had concocted this time. "Lieutenant!" Neelix greeted her in his usually cheery mood. "How are you this evening?" "Busy," B'Elanna replied, eyeing the pot of ... something that the stout Talaxian cook was eagerly stirring. "What ... what is that?" "Daraxian stew." Neelix leaned forward, as if he were sharing some great secret. "It's an old family recipe I'd forgotten about until yesterday, when I was digging through an old box of mine. Would you care for some?" It's not like I have much of a choice, she thought to herself. But instead of being rude, she decided to keep her mouth shut, and held out an empty tray. "Please." Her brow furrowed as she watched a thick mound of brown glop, speckled with green bits, leisurely release its grip on the spoon and slide onto her plate. B'Elanna forced away a nagging wave of doubt, and hoped that this wasn't a meal she was going to regret. She smiled unsurely at Neelix. "Thanks." "My pleasure!" he exclaimed, happy as always to share his culinary creations. As she carried her plate across the hall, the odorous entree validated her suspicion that this dish was the source of the slightly unpleasant aroma that enveloped her when she first entered. She spotted Harry Kim at one of the far tables poking his fork into a brown lump similar to the one residing on her plate. He was only half-attentively reading a PADD, and she headed in his direction. "Mind if I join you?" B'Elanna asked him. He smiled as he looked up, appearing to be delighted to have a distraction. "Not at all." His eyes fell on her plate as she took a seat. "You got the stew, too?" "I'm out of replicator rations," she sighed, pushing her fork around her dish. "Actually, it's not *too* bad," he admitted as he forced a small forkful into his mouth. "The smell just throws you off a little." Fortunately, he was right. The taste wasn't quite as bad as it smelled. But still, it wasn't a dish she wanted to set her hopes on again any time in the near future. "So, how are the warp engines coming?" he asked. "They're not," she grumbled. "I still can't get them to respond. It's like they're deliberately ignoring me or something." He gave her a half-smile, understanding her frustration. "I'm sure you'll figure it out soon. Long-range sensors and deflector control only came back online half an hour ago." "Well, if warp drive doesn't come back online by tomorrow, the Spring Dance is going to be canceled." "In that case, you'd better get on it," joked Harry. "Chakotay's been planning this party for weeks." She glared at him, his teasing completely lost on her. "What do you think I've been doing for the past ten hours? Toasting marshmallows? I haven't left Engineering since ten o'clock this morning! So if you think I haven't been working off my --" "I was joking." B'Elanna blinked, wishing she could swallow back the words that had just left her mouth. "I guess I'm wound a little tighter than I thought. I'm sorry." She let out a calming breath to restrain her temper. "So, have you found a date yet?" Harry nodded, blushing slightly. "Tara Callaway." B'Elanna thought about the two of them together. She was one of the more ambitious junior officers working in Engineering. One couldn't help but admire her tenacity, especially with today's little disaster. B'Elanna had a lot of respect for her, and smiled at the prospect of her getting together with Harry. Just at that moment, B'Elanna looked up and saw Tom Paris enter the Mess Hall. His nose scrunched up, generating an expression similar to B'Elanna's initial response to the smell just a few minutes ago. He considered it for a second, and then decided to make a beeline for the replicators. B'Elanna watched as he ordered something that looked edible and found a welcome group of ensigns and lieutenants to sit with, unaware of her scrutiny. A smile crept across B'Elanna's face as a burst of lighthearted laughter passed around their table. The setting seemed such a contrast to a time just barely three years ago. On her very first day of duty, after the Maquis merged with what was left of Voyager's crew, she hadn't been able to avoid overhearing all the muffled gossip about Paris not being a typical Starfleet Officer, and that he'd only become lieutenant and helmsman because Janeway had some sort of soft spot for him. Some said it was because she knew his father, but the truth of the matter was, Voyager needed a skilled pilot after being stranded in the Delta Quadrant. A great number of the crew members, both Starfleet and Maquis, hated the fact that Tom, a convicted criminal, expelled from Starfleet, had been given this second chance to redeem himself on the shiniest of all silver platters. But over the past three years, he proved himself to be worthy of the position, earning the respect and admiration of most of the crew … including B'Elanna's. She caught herself staring at him and wondered how long she'd been doing that. She dug her fork vigorously into her stew, desperately avoiding eye-contact with Harry, whom she saw, out of the corner of her eye, was bearing an amused expression. She could imagine what he was thinking. It was a small ship, gossip traveled fast, and Harry wasn't stupid. He was just as capable as anyone else of drawing his own conclusions. She was sure he'd heard about the recent mission when she and Tom were trapped in the caves of Sakari IV, which in itself would have been bad enough for her. But to make things worse, her mating instincts had been involuntarily induced when Ensign Vorik tried to bond with her during his pon farr. She could imagine what everyone thought happened, but thanked the gods that it didn't. The whole ordeal was downright embarrassing enough. Harry sat forward in his seat, and said softly, "B'Elanna, why don't you just tell him?" Startled by hearing her thoughts coming out of someone else's mouth, her immediate reaction was absolute speechlessness. "Huh?" It took her a few seconds, but as soon as she regained her composure, she shot Harry a look sharper than an ice pick. "I don't know what you're talking about," she lied. "Come on, Maquis. I know you too well. You're not doing a very good job at hiding it." It horrified her that he'd picked up on her lie, but she wasn't totally surprised. Harry had been a close friend for most of their time on Voyager, and he knew her well enough to know she was hiding something. But she didn't want to talk about it. Not now. Just thinking about it was aggravating enough. Feeling her face burning and temper boiling, she finished what was left of her Daraxian stew in two gulps, and abruptly stood. "Starfleet, get your facts straight, and mind your own business!" She stormed away, stopping only to dump her plate in the collection bin, and stalked back down to Engineering where her engines could occupy all her free thoughts. *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ It was way too early to be up. Chakotay suppressed the urge to yawn as he tried to convince himself that this shift had begun no earlier than it usually did. It just *felt* like it was the wee hours of the morning. Rarely was he ever this tired. He finally decided to blame his fatigue on the near-twenty-four hours' worth of chaos during the incident with the plasma storm. He was willing to bet that if he took a moment to calculate the time spent demanding status and repair reports from each of the ship's systems, he would find that he'd seen more of the turbolift than he did the bridge. It certainly became tiring. The repeated trips back and forth got to be so frequent that he'd begun to think that the officers in Deflector Control were getting tired of seeing him. Today, however, most of the systems were finally returning to normal, and he was thankful he could monitor things from his *seated* position on the bridge. He had to feel a little bit sorry for Captain Janeway, though, who was stowed away in her ready room, reading the unending status reports he continuously bombarded her with. The bridge remained quiet for most of the morning, except for the methodical beeping from the various stations around him. Maybe a little too quiet … Paris is being unusually subdued today, the commander eventually observed. He didn't notice anything that particularly concerned him, but Tom wasn't his usual upbeat, talkative self. The silence was interrupted occasionally when Lieutenant Torres made several brief trips up to the bridge, punched in a few commands at the engineering console, then disappeared back to Main Engineering. She looked a little frayed around the edges, but he didn't expect her to be otherwise. She had insisted on pulling a triple shift, staying up all hours of the night, working on the warp systems which still hadn't come back online. But it wasn't until her fourth or fifth trip that he noticed something odd. The first thing she did upon entering the bridge was to toss an uneasy glance towards the conn, where Paris stiffly continued piloting the ship, leaving her glimpses at him unacknowledged. As B'Elanna worked, Chakotay surveyed her motions carefully. Whether or not she was aware of his watchful gaze, he couldn't tell. She concentrated on her work silently, never looking up until she headed back to the turbolift. He'd always felt obligated to look after her, despite her protests, while in the Maquis and now on Voyager. He turned to stare at the back of Tom's head. Chakotay didn't want to intrude in B'Elanna's personal life, but he felt he would have no other choice but to do so if both of their behavior patterns remained unchanged. A little less than two hours later, after having nudged aside his worries about B'Elanna and refocusing his attention on his duties, his comm badge chirped. "Torres to bridge." "Chakotay here. Go ahead, Lieutenant." "I think I've got the warp engines operational." Her voice sounded hopeful, if not a little anxious. Chakotay looked to the helm. "Tom?" Paris keyed in a few commands, and turned to the commander, smiling for the first time that morning. "Confirmed. Warp engines responding." "Maintain course. Engage at Warp 5." Tom acknowledged with a nod and complied. "Good work, B'Elanna," Chakotay congratulated her over the comm link. He didn't get much more than a grunt from her before the link terminated. He sighed, his concern for the chief engineer returning. Maybe now was a good idea to talk to her. After sending one more report to the captain through the computer, he headed over to the tactical bay. "Tuvok, how are the weapons coming?" He looked up at the commander, expressionless as a Vulcan ever was. "Torpedo bays are fully functional, and phasers are at 74 percent. The work crews estimate full phaser power in another two hours." Chakotay nodded, and headed to the turbolift. "Good work. Tuvok, you have the bridge. I'll be down in Engineering if you need me." He turned before entering the turbolift, hoping to see some sort of reaction from Paris, but there wasn't anything he could detect. As he entered Engineering, he was relieved to see that it looked a lot calmer than last night when all the engineers on duty were scrambling back and forth, attending to problem after problem. Now, most of them stood at their stations, notably more settled after having finished their latest tasks. It took a few moments, but Chakotay finally spotted B'Elanna hunched over a console, muttering under her breath so softly that he could barely make out any of her words. "B'Elanna?" The lieutenant jumped at his voice, and let out a breath. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I didn't mean to startle you. Are you all right?" Unsettled, she turned back to the terminal. "You know, it took forever to figure out what was wrong with the warp systems. It turns out that the entire matrix had to be reconfigured. The --" Chakotay interrupted her. "B'Elanna, I didn't ask about the engines. I asked about you. Are *you* all right?" B'Elanna sighed and nodded, running a hand across her tired eyes. "I'm just exhausted." "Now that warp engines are back online, it looks like Engineering can get by without you. You were up for the entire night. Why don't you take the rest of the day off and rest?" She looked as if she were about to agree, but then thought better of it. "I'd like to come back to duty for my afternoon shift." She looked around Engineering solemnly. "We're not completely out of the woods yet. There are a few things left to do down here." Chakotay gestured the other engineers. "Can't they handle it?" She crossed her arms in front of her, seeming to scramble for a legitimate reply. "Sure ... but, I'd personally like to see that they get it done." A weak answer, and he could tell she knew it, too. Why would she refuse taking some time to rest when she'd just admitted she was tired? He tried to protest, but she refused to settle on anything less. Finally, he had no choice but to concede. "Fine, but be sure to get a few hours of sleep. You need it." He tried to lighten her mood. "Do you think you'll be up to coming to the dance?" She stiffened, and dropped her gaze back down to her terminal. "That depends." "On what?" "Um …I ..." Chakotay took her shoulder and made her look at him. "B'Elanna, is there anything wrong? Anything you want to talk about? Be honest with me." He was able to maintain her gaze, but he could tell her focus was light years away. He lost contact as her eyes closed for a moment and she shook her head. "No, it's nothing really." He nodded. As much as he wanted to try, he couldn't force anything out of her. "Get some sleep. And think about that dance, okay?" He stared after her as she reluctantly left Engineering in silence, leaving him behind, trying to deduce what in the world could be so unspeakable to weigh so heavily on her mind. *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ It's just one thing after another, B'Elanna grumbled silently as she dragged herself towards Sickbay. Even with the few hours of sleep she got, her body felt significantly less sluggish, but her mind felt like it was lagging. Her sleep, as it had been for weeks now, was anything but peaceful. One recurring theme kept emerging in many of her dreams, one that she wanted to avoid. They weren't exactly bad dreams. In fact, some of them had the potential to be quite pleasant. But the possibility indicated by them stimulated a mysterious feeling of anxiety each time. She figured she'd gotten no more than four hours of sleep, not much of it being deep sleep as she repeatedly jerked awake upon realizing where her imagination was taking her. It was exactly what she feared would happen, letting her mind wander in the realm of sleep and dreams. She couldn't wait to get back to work to give herself something else to keep her mind on. Sickbay was as silent as a whisper when the doors whooshed shut behind her. There was only the slight hum of the computer running, and the doctor was quietly attending to one patient, with Kes watching intently nearby. At first, B'Elanna didn't see anything wrong with the doctor, but as he turned to reach for an instrument, she saw the far wall of the room through a fuzzy hole in the holographic doctor's left arm. Torres waited until the doctor had finished and released the patient before heading over to the computer terminal and setting down her toolbox. The doctor turned questioningly to her. "Lieutenant, aren't you supposed to be resting?" B'Elanna looked at him, knowing what lecture lay ahead. "Please, save your breath. As soon as I fix your program, my afternoon shift starts and there's a lot of work to do." Immediately, she set to work, expertly punching in commands and calling up displays. After a few moments, she sighed and looked up. "I'm going to have to deactivate you for a little while." Concern crossed the doctor's face. "For what length of time?" "Don't worry," she tried to reassure him, "I don't think it'll be more than ten or twenty minutes to fix the glitch." "Very well," the doctor agreed. "You should be able to handle things here in Sickbay, won't you, Kes?" "Yes, Doctor." The young Ocampan smiled. "Today has been fairly quiet. There shouldn't be any problems." He nodded, feeling the situation was under acceptable control. "Very well. When I'm reactivated I expect this hole here to be gone." He pointed to his elbow. "Yes, yes," B'Elanna said impatiently. "It's just a matter of transferring your files to the new subsystem. Computer, deactivate the EMH program." At the computer's acknowledgment, the holographic image of the doctor shimmered away, and she initiated the transfer. Kes looked over her shoulder with mild interest. "I know you've been working almost constantly for the last couple of days. I hope this isn't too much trouble for you." "No, not at all. It's all part of the job," she said with an unintended mocking tone, and immediately regretted it. She could have smacked herself for being so cranky with Kes. Kes hadn't said anything wrong. Rather than being hurt, Kes grew concerned. "B'Elanna, are you all right?" "I guess I'm just a little tired." "Are you going to the Spring Dance tonight? That should give you a chance to relax and have some fun." "That's what everyone keeps telling me." What was wrong with her? She'd done it again, and she bit her tongue hard. "Are you going with someone?" B'Elanna remained silent, fixing her eyes on the screen in front of her. Kes picked up on the slight change in her eyes and decided that something more than being tired was bothering the engineer. "Is something wrong?" Frankly, B'Elanna was getting tired of hearing that question. She'd heard it several times over the past few days from some of the engineers and then earlier that morning from Chakotay. The matter wasn't something she was willing to discuss with any of them, but she couldn't shake the feeling of misery that insisted on tagging along with it. She almost had to grit her teeth to retain her composure as Kes' questions grew more sensitive. "Does this have to do with the dance?" she guessed. Come on, a part of her mind urged, change the subject now while you still can. She groped for something else to say, but she found it nearly impossible to think about anything else. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out. "What is it?" B'Elanna's eyes blurred against the computer terminal, feeling torn in two directions. She didn't want to talk about it, and she hadn't talked about it since the incident occurred, but she wasn't sure if she could keep this to herself forever. The urge for this to surface was far too strong to repress now. Making a decision and sticking to it, she took in a slow breath. "I suppose you know about what happened to me in the caves of Sakari IV when we were looking for galacite." "Yes, the doctor told me a little bit about the situation. All I know for certain is that a chemical imbalance stimulated your Klingon mating instincts when Ensign Vorik tried to take you as a mate." B'Elanna cringed just hearing someone else say the dreaded words. But they were true nonetheless. "After some time, those instincts became so strong that I couldn't control these … desires … and it was just my luck that Tom was trapped in there with me." Kes' expression grew to one of emerging disbelief. B'Elanna didn't wait for her to suggest it. "No, nothing really happened, but that had nothing to do with my restraint. I don't know what would've happened if Tom hadn't stopped me. Then when we got back on the ship, I insisted that the best thing to do was to pretend none of it had ever happened. I even told him that everything I said down in the caves was influenced by the chemical imbalance. That none of it was true ..." "And was it?" Kes asked softly. "That's just it!" The half-Klingon's temper jumped levels, and she started pacing frantically. "It was all true. It wasn't just a coincidence that I had this particular reaction with Tom. The imbalance brought out ... this attraction to him I've been trying to ignore for so long!" "And does Tom still feel the same way about you as before?" B'Elanna rubbed her ridged forehead. "Of course … I guess. Lately it seems like he's been trying to spend all his free time with me. And not that I mind, really … well, I do …sort of. I mean …" She looked up at Kes' perplexed expression, trying to spit out what she was trying to say. "What I mean is … practically this whole ship knows how Tom feels about me. And trust me, I'm not as blind as people are rumoring me to be!" "Then, if you have feelings for him, why don't you tell him?" "I … can't." "B'Elanna, what's stopping you?" When she failed to answer, Kes tried a different approach. "You said you were afraid to admit these feelings ... even to yourself?" "I didn't want to believe it was happening to me again. It couldn't …" Her voice trailed off. "What?" Kes pressed her. "What was happening?" "That … I was … falling in love." B'Elanna had to gather every ounce of courage she could to say it. The Ocampan nodded sympathetically. "Falling in love can be a terrifying thing to admit. I didn't think I could acknowledge it right away with Neelix. I had never been involved with anyone before that, so it was a new experience for me." Kes thought for a moment. "Have you been in love before?" Once again, B'Elanna fell silent, and she absently started chewing on her lower lip. Kes stared up at her, realizing they'd hit upon the source of the lieutenant's distress. She didn't want to make her talk about something she didn't want to, but she could sense that B'Elanna was trying hard to fight off a sudden bombardment of extremely strong emotions. What were they? Kes struggled to refrain from using her telepathic abilities to probe into B'Elanna's mind, for she would never read anyone's emotions without their consent, but even B'Elanna's Klingon defenses were breaking down and Kes felt like she was being pulled in. "Just let it go," Kes coaxed her. And just as the words left her mouth, emotions and images flooded her mind with such force that nearly overwhelmed her. And since her telepathic abilities were rather raw and still developing, Kes couldn't discern or articulate any individual feeling or image right away. At first, it seemed to be comprised of a large, singular thought that seemed impossible to label with just one name. Slowly, individual ones began to formulate, segregating from the larger one. She struggled to keep a part of herself isolated from B'Elanna's emotions, just as a ship drops anchor to avoid getting swept off in the current. Kes had perceived powerful feelings from B'Elanna before, and she'd been able to withstand even her mightiest outbursts; but now, she was having trouble keeping her own reactions in check. Once she was sure she had a firm foot planted on stable ground, Kes chanced a glance at B'Elanna. The lieutenant stood slightly hunched over the console, her arms barely supporting her weight. The features of her face twisted, as if that could make the flooding images go away. Kes could only imagine how terrible the images and emotions were for B'Elanna, no doubt amplified many degrees beyond her own. Slowly, the images were becoming clearer, and Kes let out a horrified gasp. As she pieced together the fragmented pieces, everything else fell readily into place. She understood not only B'Elanna's fear to admit her feelings for Tom, but also why she had trouble being open to people. No … what she thought at first wasn't quite how it happened, she started to realize. It *almost* happened. Such attacks were only things she'd read about. Even when she was enslaved by the Kazon, she was lucky enough to not have to endure such abuse, though the Kazon could have just as easily inflicted it on her. "When did this happen?" Kes finally asked, though she had to fight to keep her voice even. "A long time ago," B'Elanna whispered. Kes felt B'Elanna struggle to push her emotions back, like she was trying to put back the contents of a spill. "Don't fight it, B'Elanna," she tried to coax her, but before she even fully realized it, all the images were gone. By the time Kes reorganized her thoughts, B'Elanna was already standing straight again, trying to compose herself. Even though B'Elanna hadn't specified the amount of time between this incident the present, Kes knew that it was too long for her to keep ignored. It was doing her more harm than good. "B'Elanna, didn't you talk to anyone about this?" "I never told anyone until now. I couldn't." "And because of this, you have trouble trusting people. Is that right?" B'Elanna nodded silently. For a moment, she looked as if she refused to say anymore, but then one glance at Kes' concerned face softened her. "He was my first boyfriend, my first love … and then …" Her voice trailed off. "He hurt you," Kes finished for her gently. She could only imagine how much B'Elanna wanted to forget this time in her life, but she also knew that the half-Klingon had used similar mechanisms in response to other distressful events in her life. B'Elanna was well known for suppressing her anger until it could no longer be held and exploded, often towards a hapless person who'd done nothing wrong. Kes determined from B'Elanna's earlier sudden rash of emotions that she'd somehow managed to reign in all the pain and anger about this particular misfortune, and never had to deal with it until recently. "And now that you have these feelings for Tom," she continued, "they remind you too much of what happened, and you're afraid it could happen again." B'Elanna raised her slightly tear-stained eyes towards Kes. "It became all I could think about when I tried to commit to a relationship. It scared me away from every guy who was nice to me." "And now with Tom?" Marked frustration exuded from deep in her throat in a low growl. "I've never felt about anyone the way I feel about Tom. But every time he gets near me, I just want to run and hide. The last thing I wanted to think about was getting involved." "But what's the purpose of having these feelings if you can't express them?" Kes urged gently. "Life is about taking risks of varying degrees. And although protecting your heart will keep you from getting hurt, it also deprives you of the wonders in life, especially love." She placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "B'Elanna, Tom cares about you. Anyone can see that by the way he is around you. He would never do anything to hurt you." B'Elanna spoke even more softly. "I don't think I could ever tell him …" "Don't you think Tom deserves to know? After all he's done? I mean, what can be more disconcerting than to pursue the person you care about, give up when they don't show interest, and then find out later that they've felt the same way about you all along?" B'Elanna stared blankly in front of her, unsure of what to think. Part of her knew Kes was right. Kes had a unique perspective on life's lessons, especially given that Ocampans only live an equivalent of nine standard Earth years. But even if she were to take Kes' advice, she'd have no idea where to begin. Suddenly the computer let out short chirp, indicating that the doctor's program had completed its transfer. Remembering her assigned task, B'Elanna peered at the readouts. Gathering every ounce of professionalism she could muster, she stated, "The doctor should be functioning properly now. Computer, run diagnostic on the EMH program integrity." The computer twittered momentarily and replied, "No anomalous readings." As B'Elanna started packing her tools back in their case, Kes asked, full of concern, "Do you want to talk about this some more?" B'Elanna shook her head, avoiding her eyes. "My shift for the afternoon officially starts in a few minutes. I need to get down to Engineering." Kes reached out to touch B'Elanna's arm. "If you need to, you know where to find me." Despite her jumble of feelings, B'Elanna tried to smile, and half- succeeded. "Thank you, Kes." And then quickly, with an imperceptible clenching of her teeth, she retreated out of Sickbay before Kes could see her eyes, bright with forbidden tears. *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ For the first time in two days, Ensign Harry Kim let out a deep breath devoid of anxiety. In fact, it was almost a sigh of relief. Reports confirming that Voyager's systems were returning to normal gradually replaced the dreaded notifications of cascading failures that had accumulated on his console. If this much trouble originated from an encounter with such a baby of a plasma storm, Harry didn't want to think about what they'd have to deal with if it had it been a mother-sized storm. As the alerts on his console slowly became less frequent, he surveyed the rest of the bridge. His station at the back left side of the bridge allowed him to see everything happening around him. Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay sat at the command area in the center of the bridge, engrossed in what looked like another one of their mild, yet somehow intimate, arguments. Tuvok silently monitored the ship's security from his station, also at the back of the bridge. The Vulcan lieutenant occasionally raised his eyebrow to a particular readout here and there, but all seemed quiet so far. Tom Paris silently piloted the ship from the helm, the station furthest to the front. Harry couldn't imagine what being way up there was like. He'd feel uncomfortable having all the activity going on behind him. Only the main viewscreen was situated in front of Tom's station, which at the moment displayed the quiet void of space. He turned as the turbolift doors next to Tuvok's station whooshed open, allowing Lieutenant Torres to enter the bridge and make her way to the Engineering bay at the far right side of the room. "Report, Lieutenant," ordered Janeway. Torres tapped the console before speaking. "There haven't been any new problems with the warp drive since they came back online, and I just finished transferring the EMH program to the new subsystem." "Excellent job, Lieutenant," Chakotay commended. B'Elanna tried her hardest, but failed, to smile as she nodded her acknowledgment. "It looks like we won't have to postpone the Spring Dance tonight after all," Janeway announced happily. "I hope to see you all there." Her expression changed to one of light frustration as she cocked her head to look at Chakotay. "*If* we can settle on suitable music." Chakotay rolled his eyes half-jokingly, and let out a mock sigh. Paris, on the other hand, rolled his eyes in annoyance, for once glad that no one sat in front of him to see the gesture. Time was running out. If he didn't jump on the chance soon, the opportunity might never come again. He'd have to time things just right so that he entered the turbolift at the same time as B'Elanna, and no one else. And there was no way to know for sure that she would agree to go to the dance with him. It could come down simply to the way he approached her about it. He recognized the rare feeling of apprehension as his mind mulled over the hundreds of possible outcomes. All he knew for sure was that if she didn't accept, this Spring Dance would have to go on without Tom Paris there. For B'Elanna, the end of her shift couldn't come soon enough. It had been a long afternoon, and when her attention drifted from her duties, it wandered toward Tom's direction and the ordeal she'd had in Sickbay. She'd thought about what Kes had said. This matter would only grow worse if she didn't deal with it soon. After a long session of debating with herself, she forced the reluctant part of her to agree that if Tom didn't ask her to go to the dance, she would ask him. After all, Kes was right. She wasn't being fair to Tom. But seeing that the dance was in less than three hours, her best shot would have to be while in the turbolift. As she moved away from her station, she saw Tom stand from his seat at the helm. His eyes darted casually around the bridge, briefly meeting her own gaze in the process. He seemed to be waiting for something. Waiting for her, perhaps? Only one way to find out. She didn't make it farther than a couple steps when the captain approached her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tom grimace slightly, then move casually to visit Harry's station, trying to engage him in small talk. "B'Elanna," the captain said, "I'd like to thank you personally for getting the warp systems back online. But it wasn't necessary for you to pull a triple shift." She'd been wondering if the captain knew she was up all night. Chakotay had probably told her. "Warp drive is a primary system. I made it a priority to get it fixed as soon as I could." "Have you had any sleep?" Janeway asked with sincere concern. "A few hours this morning, before I came back on duty." The captain nodded. "Well, a few hours isn't nearly enough, but hopefully you can come to the dance tonight. You of all people could use the relaxing atmosphere." B'Elanna only nodded. Janeway smiled reassuringly and left for her ready room. B'Elanna turned towards the turbolift, having momentarily forgotten about Paris who suddenly was conveniently standing at the door of the lift. He could just as easily have been waiting for the turbolift to come as he could have been waiting for her. Which one it was, she wasn't sure, but she assumed the latter. It was almost too tempting to chicken out by announcing a forgotten check at her station, but she mustered all of her willpower to wait for the turbolift with an equally silent Tom Paris. As the doors shut after they entered, they glanced at each other uneasily, silently wondering who would call the destination command. "Deck four," B'Elanna finally called out. The slight jerk she felt as the lift descended reminded her of the knot in her stomach. Remembering her self-promise, she took the initiative. "So ... are you going to the dance?" Looking a bit unsettled, and very much unlike himself, he stuttered, "I don't know. It depends. Have you ... Has anyone asked to go with you yet?" "No," she replied, equally as uncomfortable. "Not yet." "Oh." She couldn't read anything in his voice, but his face said it all. Relief because she hadn't been taken yet, but trepidation for the next step he had to take. Seeing Tom so ill at-ease was new to her, and might have been amusing had she not been equally as rattled. Images of her past, still fresh after the earlier ordeal threatened to take precedence in her mind, but she gathered all her courage to suppress them and to plunge ahead with the question, "Would you like to go with me?" only to be surprised to hear it simultaneously echoed back. A nervous laugh broke out between them as they realized they'd spoken at the same time, but it soon disappeared, replaced by the uncomfortable silence again, though the intensity had significantly lessened. "Well?" B'Elanna finally prodded him. "Aren't you going to ask when you should come by my quarters?" An almost undetectable blush made its way up to Tom's cheeks. "Uh, say 1900 hours?" The turbolift stopped as it approached Deck Four and the doors opened, revealing an empty corridor, much to their relief. Tom remained a footfall behind B'Elanna as he waited for her answer. She stopped in front of his quarters. "Sounds good," she said finally. Her gaze lingered a beat longer than she intended. She seemed to let herself relax a bit, and smiled. "I'll see you later." "Later," Tom echoed, as she continued down the corridor to her own quarters. His stare didn't budge even after the doors to her quarters closed behind her. All the tension he'd been holding within him suddenly released, and he smiled to himself. *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ B'Elanna's reflection stared back at her from the full-length mirror in her quarters. The blue-and-purple dress hiding in her closet seemed like a good choice for this particular dance which Chakotay firmly announced to be informal, as far away from stuffy and uncomfortable as they could get. Grabbing a brush from her dresser, she ran it through her hair a couple times, making sure it looked decent. She opted to keep everything simple, just letting her shoulder-length brown hair hang naturally. In her closet, she found a pair of low heels, and looked at herself in the mirror again. Satisfied, she let out an anxious breath. Now all she had to do was wait. Just a few more minutes, she thought, glancing at the chronometer. Nervously, she grabbed her brush and started combing her hair again, even though every strand was in the right place. Even at this point in time, she was still mentally busy debating with herself whether or not to tell Tom how she felt about him. Just the thought of spilling the beans clammed her up. And *how* would she go about it? It wasn't as if she could just say it in the middle of any scenario. It had to be the right time. And so many things could go wrong, too. She was well aware of the dynamic relationship they were already having as crewmates. And how would he react? Surprised? Happy? There was even the chance that he wouldn't believe her. He could think that she was under the influence of another chemical imbalance. She'd come up with thousands of different approaches over the past two hours, and yet none of them sounded right. Who knows? Even if their relationship did take off, how long would it last? No one would argue that they had their differences. She, for one, was part of the Maquis crew Voyager was sent to capture. She'd dropped out of Starfleet Academy after only two years, and only just recently learned to live with the rules and regulations of Starfleet that Janeway employed. Her hot temper was well known around the ship, and she regretted being the cold, unfriendly person she sometimes was. But then, Tom Paris wasn't your prime example of Starfleet material either. Having grown up with a line of famous and successful Starfleet officers in his family, he was pressured into the same field. Though he did well at the Academy, he was rebellious and impulsive, two qualities that eventually led to a shuttle accident that killed three people. And if that wasn't enough, he lied about the liability being his, until his conscience overpowered his ability to live with it and forced him to reveal the truth. Knowing he'd be booted from Starfleet, he joined the Maquis, only to be caught on his first mission and sentenced to the New Zealand prison. He had to be hurting inside. B'Elanna could see that. But she also knew just as well as he did that it was all carefully masked by a somewhat carefree persona and a large ego. But she had to admire him. How many times now had his agility and quick thinking saved Voyager from trouble? Far too many for anyone to count. B'Elanna jumped when the door chime rang, jerking her out of her thoughts. Nervously, she smoothed out the wrinkles on the front of her dress, and took one last glance in the mirror before calling out, "Come in." As she expected, it was Tom. But what she *didn't* expect was how handsome he looked. He wore a tan shirt that was only slightly offset by a pair of darker brown slacks, and the blending with his light skin accentuated and brought out his gem-like, lustrous blue eyes. And even in the few seconds since he walked in, a hint of potentially intoxicating cologne had already wafted its way to her nose. "You look great," he said, unable to keep the amazement from his voice. From behind his back, he offered her a perfect red rose, just picked from the hydroponics bay. B'Elanna held the flower to her nose, letting the sweet, fresh fragrance fill her senses. "Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself." For a change, a comfortable silence passed between them. B'Elanna managed to let down her guard enough to enjoy Tom's presence for once, and that seemed to reflect on Tom as well, for he smiled placidly, content about the small step of progress they'd both made. Breaking the gaze, B'Elanna found a container for the rose and turned back to Tom. "Shall we go?" Together, they made their way down to Holodeck One, silently agreeing to not hide the fact that they were together. It didn't matter what anyone else thought anyway. The heavy metal doors parted, revealing the active holodeck which they saw was beautifully programmed to look like a 20th century Earth beach club. The sun appeared to have just set, radiating light shades of red, orange and purple on the otherwise clear, cloudless, blue sky. The air was pleasantly warm, a slight breeze sweeping through the open structure that housed the dance floor. A few couples were already out on the floor, moving casually to the upbeat music that seemed to be coming from everywhere at once. Everyone else was milling about the elaborately supplied food tables. "Wow," breathed Tom, taking in the surroundings. "Chakotay did a great job, didn't he?" "He sure did," replied B'Elanna, equally as surprised. "Tom, B'Elanna," came a female voice from behind them. They turned to see Janeway and Chakotay approaching them, smiling. "I'm glad to see you both came." "It would have been a mistake to miss this," admitted B'Elanna. "Everything looks great!" Tom said in awe. "You did a great job, Chakotay. Your programming skills could almost rival mine." A playful grin danced on his face. "Well, I had a little help," admitted Chakotay, tossing a grateful glance at the captain, who tipped her head modestly. "We thought the crew could use a night together like this," he continued. "It's been a while since we last had one of these." "Wow!" Tom exclaimed as he looked up towards the high ceiling. "A disco ball! I've never actually *seen* one before!" As he and Janeway eagerly discussed the historical value of the giant spinning metallic ball, Chakotay discreetly studied the couple before him. Whatever anxiety existed earlier no longer lingered between them. In fact, B'Elanna appeared to be quite comfortable politely arm-in-arm with Paris. The commander decided to drop his initial concern, and let whatever existed between the two officers to manifest itself naturally, even though he didn't totally like the idea. B'Elanna caught him staring at the two of them, and slightly turned up the corners of her mouth, assuring him that he didn't need to be concerned about her. Janeway turned back to B'Elanna. "I want everyone to take it easy tonight, especially you, B'Elanna." "I'll try," she promised. But I can't offer any guarantees, she thought. "Well, enjoy the evening," Janeway said, as she and Chakotay moved on to talk with some of the other crew members. Neelix was in charge of food again, but Chakotay had insisted that the food served be what was eaten on Earth in the late 20th century. There were plates of fruit, sandwiches, and crackers. And they all looked delicious. Kes looked over from where she was helping Neelix, smiling slightly to see that B'Elanna was with Tom. She waited until B'Elanna made eye contact before raising her eyebrows, silently asking the question. B'Elanna shook her head, understanding what Kes wanted to know. No, not yet, she thought to herself, but I will … hopefully. An hour passed, and not much had passed much between them in the way of words. The music started to slow down, and a few more couples took to the floor. "Care to dance?" Tom asked, offering his hand. "Certainly." She took his hand, and he led her to the floor. She felt his arms on the small of her back as she slipped her arms on his shoulders. She smiled at him, feeling remarkably comfortable as they swayed in time with the music. At this close distance, he looked as handsome as ever, and she started noticing the little details about him. His twinkling eyes were mesmerizing, as blue as the clearest sky on a perfect summer day, and she could easily lose herself staring into them. His smile, usually set in a cocky manner, carried no smirk. It was that gentle smile that she loved and made her feel like she would melt in his arms. After a while, she lost count of how many songs they'd been dancing to. She let herself get swept away in the moment, feeling right at home in his arms. Some time passed, neither of their eyes leaving the other's gaze once. Then B'Elanna noticed something that she thought was her imagination at first. Tom's face had grown serious, and they were moving closer together. By the time she noticed it, his face was barely an inch from hers, his delicate lips parting to meet hers, and she struggled to fight the instinct to panic. Relax, she scolded herself, just let it happen. And despite the orders she gave herself, alarms went off in her head, and she pulled back nervously, involuntarily dropping her gaze. Tom sensed her sudden uneasiness. "I'm sorry, B'Elanna ... I -" he started to apologize. She stopped him, shaking her head. "No ... don't be. It's not your fault." Her cheeks flushed, so deeply that she felt a little lightheaded. "I need to sit down." He led her carefully around the other dancers to one of the more private tables. "I'll go get you a glass of water." As he disappeared, she cupped her face with both hands. What the hell is wrong with me, she begged herself. It was going so well. She was enjoying herself, and Tom's company. She felt so mad at herself for disrupting the peace they were sharing. Tom came back after a few moments, setting a glass of water on the table in front of her. She didn't move to take the glass or look up. Tom sat in his chair, opposite from her, and couldn't help noticing how distraught she looked. "B'Elanna? Are you all right?" She shook her head no, unable to speak. Hastily, she picked up the water and sipped it, her eyes never leaving the dark green painted table under the glass. Finally she said, forcing herself to look into his worried expression, "If you don't mind, maybe we should call it a night." Tom nodded sympathetically. "I understand. You've had a rough couple of days. I'll take you back to your quarters." If he only knew *how* rough … The walk through the corridors seemed to take forever. They were walking slowly, and it felt to her like it was taking years to reach her quarters. Coming off the turbolift, her legs felt weak, and she wavered a little, but luckily Tom caught her, slipping his arm around her waist. His gentle touch calmed her somewhat, making her feel a little less unhinged. They walked like that all the way to her quarters. Once inside, he helped her to the couch where her body fell limp. He knelt down in front of her, trying to look into her face. "B'Elanna, are you all right? I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I should have known better." She closed her eyes, trying to gain some strength to speak. "I told you ... it's not your fault." "What do you mean? Sure it is. I tried to kiss you, and that obviously wasn't what you wanted, right?" "Yes ... I mean, no. I -" She let out a frustrated breath. "Tom, there's ... something you should know." He sat down beside her. "What?" "Remember, back in the caves of Sakari IV?" Tom nodded slowly. "I was saying that I had these ... feelings ... for you that I was just afraid to admit?" He nodded again. "And you said to me that ... that wasn't how I really felt, that I wasn't thinking straight because of the imbalance." "Right. Your instincts got the better of you and impaired your judgment." Feeling flush again, she looked at her hands clasped around her knees. "No ... no, that's not exactly it." She looked back up at Tom, who looked as if he wasn't sure if he understood. "What are you saying?" Abruptly, she got to her feet, and started pacing weakly. "Damn it, Tom! I know you're not stupid!" Her temper was threatening to take over. She struggled for the right words. "I ... What I said down there ... it was true. I was ... *am* ... attracted to you. For the longest time ... like I said, I didn't want to admit it. Not even to myself." Tom stood, staring at her with an unreadable expression. "Sometimes … I think I'd go insane just thinking about you. There were times when I couldn't stand to be in the same room with you." He took her gently by the shoulders. "But why? Why was this so hard for you?" Tears stung her eyes. "I was scared," she whispered. "Scared of what?" That question went unanswered. "Why were you scared?" A lump caught in her throat as she fought the instinct to hold back the onslaught of emotions. She took a couple unsteady steps back, and a shaky breath escaped her lips. "It was so long ago ... I must have been at least fifteen. It was just before I started at Starfleet Academy. And … there was this ... guy who lived near me. He was my first boyfriend, and at the time, I thought he was the most wondrous person in the galaxy. We spent all our time together. He was two years older than me, but I didn't care. I loved being with him. And … I was stupid enough to even think that I loved him. But one day, after a couple months, he wanted to ... make more of our relationship. Being half- Klingon, I was fairly strong, but he was on the wrestling team and he was stronger. At first, there ... there wasn't much I could do. It scared the hell out of me. I don't know how, but somehow, I managed to get out from under him, before anything ... really happened." Finally, after all the years she'd kept this to herself, everything she'd held back suddenly poured out. "Why did that have to happen to me!" she screamed. "Why did he have to be like that? What did I do to deserve it?" Heavy sobs racked her body, and Tom closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her. In the comfort of his embrace, she buried her face in his chest and let the tears out. It almost felt good to set free all the trapped feelings, like releasing a pressure valve. They stayed like that for a while, B'Elanna emptying her emotions on the front of his shirt, and Tom consoling her gently. Then B'Elanna pulled back a bit, and fingered the wet stains on Tom's shirt. An embarrassed laugh escaped through her tears. "Sorry about that." "Don't worry about it." He wiped her cheek gently with his thumb. "Didn't you tell anyone about it?" She shook her head. "I just wanted to forget the whole thing ever happened." "I had no idea ..." "Now you see why I couldn't say anything to you? No matter what I told myself, my biggest fear was that it would happen to me again." Tom cupped her face with his hand. "That's one thing you can't be one hundred percent sure of, but I want you to know, I would never do anything to hurt you. I'd never let anything happen to you." "I know," she whispered. Tentatively, she brought her fingers up to his face, tracing his cheek and jaw line. Slowly feeling sure of herself, she gently touched his lips with her own. A warm feeling washed over her, and this time it enveloped her whole body. She kissed him again, her fingers running down his neck and through his hair. His arms tightened around her body, as he returned her kisses. "Tom," she said, pulling back, "there's one more thing you should know. Something I wanted to tell you for a long time, but never had the guts to say." "What's that?" "I love you." Tom's eyes glimmered, and he smiled. "I know. I knew all along." ~THE END~ ********************************************************* Feedback! Feedback! Feedback! It's what writers thrive on. Without it, we'd all give up. And you wouldn't want that, right? =)