DISCLAIMER: Star Trek and all of it's colourful characters are the property of Paramount... I didn't invent 'em, I'm just playing with them. This is a non-profit story, solely for fan entertainment... feel free to share it. ** Note: I've been reading a lot of Voyager stories on the internet, and there have been quite a few about the crew getting home to the Alpha Quadrant. But, so far I haven't found one that has a scene with Tom facing Admiral Paris... so here's my version of how I think things might have gone. Feedback is most welcome. CONFRONTATIONS By: Tara ******************** Six long years had passed since that fateful voyage of the Federation Starship Voyager. So many things had changed in those six years, and yet so many things had remained the same. The crew of the U.S.S Voyager was definitely not the same crew that had left the Federation space station, Deep Space Nine, six years ago. Many of that original crew had perished, and those that had survived were changed by years of both hardships and happiness. Of course, it wasn't only the crew of Voyager that had undergone changes. Life in the Alpha Quadrant had continued without the intrepid crew. The Maquis were no more. Their freedom-fighting band had been hunted to extinction by the Cardassians and their new allies, the Dominion. Those that had left the Maquis before the Cardassians had destroyed the rebels found sanction in non-unified colonies, and even in some Federation outposts. This unexpected turn of events was a mixed blessing for the Maquis crew members of Voyager. Since the Maquis were no longer a threat, and since the Federation had severed all loyalties to the Cardassians, there was an excellent chance that Voyager's Maquis crew members would be granted full pardons. On a more personal note, each member of the Voyager crew had immediately tried looking up relatives and old friends, upon their return to Earth. The crew wasn't quite allowed to leave San Francisco yet, because of all of the "bureaucratic bunk," as Tom Paris so eloquently put it, but that didn't stop them from sending out messages to their loved ones. Some crew members joyfully found that they did have something worth coming home to. Ensign Wildman found her husband waiting patiently for her. He wept with joy at the sight of his five year old daughter. Tuvok found his wife and children faithfully waiting for his return as well. Others, however, were not so fortunate. Harry Kim returned only to discover that his soon-to-be fiance, Libby, had moved on with her life, marrying a childhood sweetheart of hers. Kathryn Janeway discovered that her fiance, Mark, had been killed in a shuttle accident, a year after Voyager's disappearance. Finally, there were those crew members who had yet to decide if the things that they found were blessings or not. Among them, were Lieutenants B'Elanna Torres and Thomas Eugene Paris. B'Elanna had tracked down her mother, who had spent the past six years living on the Klingon Homeworld. However, she also discovered that her mother was currently visiting Earth at the request of the Klingon High Council. Tom Paris had little difficulty tracking down his father, Admiral Owen Paris. He was at Starfleet Headquarters, doing his job, just as he had always done. ********** Admiral Owen Paris sat at his desk in his office at Starfleet Headquarters, solemnly going over a huge stack of reports. It was 9:00 in the evening, and the Admiral had been working straight for several hours. Of course, it was not unusual for him to be there working when he should have been at home, but this was different. In the last few days, he had literally submerged himself in his work, and when he ran out of something to do, he created something else to keep himself busy. His staff had begun to notice, and had even begun to worry about the unusual behaviour of the Admiral. Most of them could guess what the reason was, although they would never voice it to him. The abnormal work habits had begun around the same time that the message had come from Deep Space Nine that the "lost" starship Voyager wasn't so lost after all. Those who knew him best were already aware that the Admiral's long lost son had returned with Voyager to the Alpha Quadrant. They were also aware that the Admiral's son was now in the vicinity of Starfleet Headquarters with the rest of the Voyager crew, waiting to be dismissed by the Starfleet higher-ups. Not many of them had met the Admiral's wayward son, but they had all heard things about him from a variety of sources. A light knock on the door made the Admiral look up. He hesitated briefly before saying, "Come in," to his visitor... almost as if he had been afraid of who might be standing outside the door. The door panels slid open with a soft hiss, revealing the plump, aging form of his secretary, Natasha Solinsky. Natasha had been with the Admiral longer than any member of his staff, and she knew him better than most people. She noticed him relax slightly as he recognized her, giving her a small welcoming smile. "Owen," she scolded, using his given name as she always did when they were alone. "Go home." The Admiral grimaced slightly and the motherly tone of her voice. He'd heard *that* tone from her far too frequently, it seemed. "Sorry, Natasha," he said with a slight shake of his head. "These have to be done before I go." He waved towards the dwindling pile of PADDs as he spoke. Natasha snorted. "Oh sure they do. Owen, they weren't even supposed to get to you until tomorrow." The Admiral shrugged, turning his attention back to the PADDs on his desk. "What can I help you with?" he asked, pretending to skim a report as he waited for her reply. Natasha stared at the Admiral for a moment, trying to decide whether he was practically living here at his office because he wanted to hide from a certain young pilot, or because he was hoping that the pilot in question might come here to find him. Her hesitation in replying made him look up from his PADD again. "I just wanted to see how you were doing," she answered. The Admiral thought that he might have heard concern in her voice, but he shrugged it off. "I'm fine," he said. "I just have a lot of work to do." Natasha frowned at him, getting tired of the act he had been playing for the last couple of days. "Owen, you know I'm your friend... and as your friend, I'm telling you that you can't go on like this." "Like what?" he asked, feigning ignorance in the hopes that she might drop this painful subject. "Stop it!" she snapped in a tone that would freeze even a Cardassian in his tracks. The Admiral's surprise showed on his face. It wasn't often that Natasha lost her temper with anyone, least of all him, and it always took him by surprise. Seeing the look on his face, Natasha immediately regretted her outburst, but she knew that something had to be said about the Admiral's behaviour, or else he was going to make himself sick. "You know exactly what I mean. You hide in here all day and half the night, when there's really no reason for it. Owen, you know as well as I do that the you're going to have to face him sooner or later..." "Natasha, please!" he interrupted. "This subject is not open for discussion." "Well, it should be!" she said fiercely. "Owen, we both know that what happened between you and Tom is eating you up inside! And I'm pretty sure that it's eating away at Tom as well. You're not making things any better... for *either* of you... by putting this confrontation off! In fact, you're probably making things worse! You have to let him know that you need to talk to him." Instead of the outburst that Natasha had expected after her bold statements on a topic that nobody had mentioned in a long, long time, she received only silence from the Admiral. Finally, after several long minutes of dead silence, the Admiral replied in a quiet, unsure voice, "What if he doesn't want to talk to me? I may need to speak to him, but there's no reason that he should want anything more to do with me after what happened." Natasha's mouth fell open in surprise, but she quickly recovered. It was so seldom that the Admiral ever seemed insecure about anything... but there was definitely doubt in his voice now. "I'm sure that's not true, Owen," she comforted. "I know that you both said some terrible things the last time that you spoke, but that was under different circumstances." "You don't understand," the Admiral replied softly. "The... conversation... we had when Tom was arrested is not what I'm talking about. At least, it's only a small part of what I'm talking about." The Admiral paused, and Natasha waited for him to continue. "I failed him." This time, Natasha couldn't hide her shock. Never, had she heard that Admiral admit failure at anything. "Surprised, Natasha?" he said with a self-depreciating smirk. "I'll bet you aren't nearly as surprised as I was when I realized it." "Admiral..." she began, letting him know with the use of his title just how surprised she was. "Please," he quickly interrupted, holding up his hand to stop her. "I know you're going to try to defend me, but it's the truth. I was a failure as a father, and I never realized it until Voyager was gone, and I thought that I had forever lost the chance to make amends with my son. So please, Natasha, just leave me in peace for a little while. I will talk to Tom. I just have to... work up to it. I have no idea how he's going to react to me after all this time." Natasha knew that the Admiral would say nothing more to her tonight, and she also realized that she wasn't going to convince him to go home and get some rest. She nodded at the Admiral, acknowledging his request for privacy. "Owen," she added, just before leaving, "If you need to talk to anyone... you know how to reach me. Any time... even if you have to wake me up in the middle of the night. You can't always be alone." With those last few words, Natasha left the Admiral sitting in his office. The Admiral sighed and put his head in his hands, slumping in defeat. He couldn't keep this up much longer, otherwise he'd crack. He sat in that position for what seemed like hours, but was in reality only a matter of minutes, before he heard the chirp of the door chime. "Come in," the Admiral called, expecting to see Natasha coming back to press the issue they had been discussing. He didn't know if he had the strength to resist her again. The doors whooshed open and two figures that were definitely *not* Natasha entered his office. The Admiral rose, his face betraying none of his inner thoughts. One of his new visitors was a petite young woman wearing the gold uniform of a Starfleet engineer. She had short, dark hair that was cut just above her shoulders. Her eyes were dark and liquidy, and they had a look of scrutiny in them as she stared back at the Admiral. Most notably were the Klingon ridges that covered her forehead. They weren't as pronounced as a full-blooded Klingon, and the Admiral guessed she must only be part-Klingon. The Admiral's appraisal of the Klingon woman took no more than a second, and then he turned to the second of his two visitors. This person he both knew and didn't know. Staring back at him, his face a mask of carefully concealed emotions, was his son. At the sight of this unexpected caller, the Admiral immediately felt a flood of emotions wash over him. Surprise, guilt, doubt, relief, love... out of habit, he kept all of these feelings hidden deep inside, not letting anyone see what he was thinking. The Admiral examined his son, not knowing how to start. The Tom Paris that stood before him was definitely not the same Tom Paris that had stepped aboard Voyager six years ago. That much was obvious. Aside from the fact that he wore his well-deserved, re-instated rank with pride, the Admiral noticed something else that was different about his son. Confidence, perhaps? Maturity? He couldn't tell, but he knew without a doubt that he wanted the chance to find out... if only Tom would give him that chance. Tom swallowed hard and took a deep breath. It hit the Admiral that coming here to face him must have been one of the hardest things that Tom had ever done, and he felt ashamed that his son would feel that way about him. Had he really made life so difficult for Tom? Even as the thought crossed his mind, the Admiral knew the answer to it, and he didn't like it at all. Tom glanced at the woman who stood beside him, as if gathering strength from her mere presence. She looked at him briefly, speaking volumes with her eyes. The look was not lost on Admiral Paris. In that one second, she had offered Tom courage, support and most importantly, love. Tom managed a shaky grin for her, before turning back to the Admiral. "Dad..." he began. "Tom," the Admiral interrupted, standing up abruptly. He said his son's name with something that sounded almost like... hope? Tom couldn't be sure, and he didn't want to risk being wrong, so he dismissed the possibility. The Admiral stepped around the desk, coming closer to Tom. "My God," he whispered with what was unmistakably relief. "We weren't even sure if... I mean... we had been afraid when Voyager never came back that you were..." the Admiral stopped, unsure of how to go on. Tom looked at his father in confusion. Was the old man actually *glad* he was alive? The thought was enough to shake Tom's cold demeanour, and the tiny glimmer of hope that he had been suppressing began to break free. "Dad, we have to talk... about what happened between us..." Tom said. The Admiral took a deep breath, and when he spoke, Tom could have sworn that his father's voice wavered a little bit. "I was about to say the same thing," he replied. The thought that he and his father were agreeing on anything almost made Tom smile. He cleared his throat. "But first," Tom said, reaching for his companion's hand without breaking his father's gaze. "There's someone I'd like for you to meet." Tom turned to the Klingon woman and smiled at her. "Dad, this is B'Elanna Torres... my wife." The Admiral turned to the young woman, fighting to conceal his surprise. His son was married? The idea that Tom had grown enough to make such a commitment told him more about the past six years than anything else could have. Then there was the look that Tom gave his wife... the Admiral had never seen it on his son's face before. It was admiration, pride, love and respect all mixed into one. *She must be a remarkable woman,* was the thought that popped into the Admiral's head, and he smiled at her. "It's a pleasure to meet you," the Admiral said, reaching out a hand to B'Elanna. She took his hand and shook it, knowing with a sense of relief that he really meant what he said. B'Elanna smiled a little. "No Admiral, the pleasure's all mine." The Admiral, however, wasn't so sure whether she had meant what she said or not. What exactly had Tom told her about him? Admiral Paris turned back to Tom. "It must have taken a lot for you to come here," he said softly. Tom bristled a little at that, before he realized that there was no criticism in the comment. "Really," Tom replied blandly. "Why do you say that?" The Admiral hesitated. "Tom, I know that the last things we said to each other weren't exactly pleasant..." he began. "No kidding," Tom said sarcastically, fighting down his sudden anger. He knew he shouldn't have come here. Even just the mention of old wounds was enough to open them. Now all he needed was for his father to pour a little lemon juice on his wounds, and the evening would be complete. Tom waited, smouldering in animosity, but his father said nothing. B'Elanna could see that this confrontation was going nowhere, and she knew it was time for her to step in. She had to get them talking. For years she had put up with Tom trying to avoid talking about his father. When they had first become friends, she had avoided the subject, knowing only too well how painful it was to talk about a bad relationship with a parent. She had felt that it wasn't her place to discuss this kind of a thing with him. Besides, even the mention of his father was enough to get Tom doubting himself. After they had begun to get closer, she had wanted to hear more about the Admiral and his and Tom's relationship. It was then that she really began to understand what their relationship had actually been like. As far as she could tell, it always consisted of Tom trying to impress his father and gain approval, and then the Admiral failing to give Tom the encouragement that he needed. The Admiral had always pushed Tom to be the best little Paris that there ever was, but instead of Tom turning out as the Admiral had thought, Tom had only learned to doubt himself and his abilities. He felt as though he never measured up to the standards that his father expected of him. As a result, Tom would just try harder, but would never quite succeed at meeting the Admiral's expectations. "All right," B'Elanna said, her exasperation evident in her voice. "This is enough. You two are going to sit down and talk about all of the things that are in your hearts and minds. I don't care if you yell and scream and throw things, or if you cry or laugh or whatever... you are *not* leaving this office until some kind of progress is made. I will lock you in here if I have to." The two Paris men turned to her in surprise after her little rant. B'Elanna almost laughed. Two identical pairs of blue eyes were trained on her, with the identical facial expressions, giving her identical looks of disbelief. She wondered if they knew how much alike they were. Somehow, she doubted it. "I will be outside sitting by the secretary's desk. You two should be in here for some time, I would imagine. There are a lot of things that are waiting to be said, and it's time to say them." With that, she gave them a dangerous look, daring them to disagree with her. When no opposition came, she nodded in satisfaction, turned on her heel and marched out the door. The two Parises stared in fascination at the doors which B'Elanna had exited through. Admiral Paris was the first to speak. "Boy, she's sure something, isn't she." Tom grinned and shook his head, forgetting for a moment that he was speaking to his enemy. "I'll say she is. She threatened to rip out my intestines if I didn't come here to talk to you." The Admiral couldn't help a small laugh as he pictured the petite woman threatening the man who towered over by at least a whole foot. It was an intriguing picture. "Well then," the Admiral said, "I suppose coming here was the least dangerous choice of action." "I don't know about that," Tom said softly, his grin fading. The Admiral's smile faded as well. "Tom... when you disappeared and were given up for dead... I did a lot of thinking..." "Yeah, me too," Tom admitted. "What conclusions did you come to? What is it that you want from me now?" He tried, but he couldn't quite keep the resentment out of his voice. He was pretty sure that his father would try pushing him again towards carrying out the Paris family tradition now that he had his rank back. Of course, that was assuming that his father still considered him as part of the Paris family. Last time they spoke, Tom had been under the impression that he was being disowned, even though the Admiral never quite came out and said the words. The response that came from the Admiral shocked Tom to the roots of his being. "Forgiveness," Admiral Paris replied. "And a chance." "What?" Tom gaped, unable to hide his amazement. The Admiral sighed. "Tom... this is very difficult for me, but it's something that I should have said years ago. I just suppose I was afraid. You know, when Voyager disappeared, I tried my damdest to figure out what had gone wrong with our relationship. I went over ever memory I had of you and me, and I came to only one conclusion..." Here, the Admiral's voice cracked a little. "It was me." "I don't understand," Tom said, barely able to believe that he was hearing what was being said. "I never realized, until it was too late, of course, that maybe my demands had been too high. Worse than that, I also realized that maybe... I had just never taken the time to tell you and your sisters what you needed to hear." Now that he had begun, the Admiral found the words starting to flow into his mind. "After Voyager was lost," he continued, "I spent many sleepless nights trying to recall the last time that I had told you that I was proud of you, or that I loved you. It was quite a shock for me to realize that I couldn't remember very many instances." "That's because there weren't that many to remember," Tom said, and all of the years of longing for such praise could be heard in his voice. It only made the Admiral feel worse, knowing how much he had deprived his children of. "I remember a picnic, many years ago, at Starfleet Headquarters that I had taken you and your mother and your sisters to," the Admiral continued, his voice sounding far away. "You were very young, and had just done extremely well in a relay race with some other children," the Admiral paused, reliving the moment in his head. With a quick glance at Tom, he knew that his son was doing the same. "After the race, you had come to me and anxiously asked how you had done." "I remember," Tom said softly, swept up in the memory of a day long ago. "I remember you beaming proudly at me, and ruffling my hair. 'Thomas,' you said, 'you ran the best race I've ever seen!'" Tom seemed to choke a little on that last statement, as if he were trying to keep from losing control. Admiral Paris nodded. "Yes. The look that you gave me...it was if I had handed you all the stars in the sky. It was the only clear memory I had of any such time." Tom walked over to the guest chair in his father's office, and sank slowly into it. The Admiral did likewise, sitting in his own chair, before he continued. "The knowledge that I couldn't remember any more times like that kept me awake more nights than I can count," he looked over at his son, who was staring back at him. There was a hint of moisture glistening in Tom's eyes. In that moment, he looked to the Admiral like a small boy that was slowly dying inside. "Oh God, Tom," the Admiral gasped, feeling his own eyes filling with unshed tears. "It never even occurred to me that you would have to hear that I was proud of you. I took it for granted that you already knew how much you meant to me... how much I loved you." That admission was Tom's undoing. The tears he had been fighting began to fall. "Well I did need to hear!" he cried out. "What the hell was I supposed to think? Every time I did something, you would always give me that *look*... as if you were saying, 'Why couldn't you have done it better?'... and so the next time, I would try anything to be better, just hoping that you would smile and say 'Good job, Tom.' It's all I ever wanted from you! I just wanted you to love me!" "I can't change what was done," the Admiral said desperately. "I know that 'I'm sorry' is not going to make everything all better... it doesn't even begin to change things... but it's all I've got right now. God Tom, I am sorry. Sorrier than I've ever been in my life. You were everything to me, and I always just assumed that you knew." "How could I know?" Tom said, shaking with pent up emotions. "All those years," was all that the Admiral could say. "It took your so-called 'death' to make me take a good hard look at what went on between us. And then I started thinking about... about what happened at Caldik Prime and with the Maquis... all of those things that I said..." the Admiral let his sentence hang as he studied his son. "When Voyager was gone, Tom I prayed to God that wherever you were, you knew that I didn't mean them. I was angry and hurt... I never meant a word of what I said. And afterwards, I was too proud to take them back. All I wanted to know was why you did what you did." "Why I did it?" Tom asked in disbelief. "I did it because I was terrified! My Starfleet career was the only thing that I had ever done that you showed the least bit of interest in. I couldn't lose that! You never gave a damn about anything else that I did. After the accident on Caldik Prime, all I could think about was what you were going to say... and how disappointed you would be in me. I would have done anything to salvage your faith in me. But, after I lied about what happened... I couldn't live with myself." Tom stopped and stared at his father for a moment. He was shocked at what he saw. His father did not look to him like the monster that he had lived with all his life. What he saw now, was a lonely old man, who had realized too late, the error of his ways. His face had a few more wrinkles than Tom remembered, his hair had more silver in it, and... what was that? Could it be *tears* in his father's eyes? In all his life, Tom had never seen that admission of weakness from his father. Even when his mother had died, and the Admiral had wanted to die with her, Tom had never seen him shed a tear. Yes... they *were* tears! And they were flowing freely now! "After I was court-martialled," Tom continued, pouring out his heart to the man he had loved for so long, "Nothing meant anything to me anymore. I didn't care what happened to me, because I knew that you didn't care either." "That's not true, Tom!" the Admiral pleaded, hating himself for what he had done to his only son. "I cared more than I can say! I just didn't know how to help... how to tell you that I *wanted* to help... and so I just let you walk away. I didn't know how to stop you." Tom studied his father's face, looking for any signs of deceit or trickery, but all that he saw in the Admiral's eyes was truth. Suddenly, for the first time in his life, Tom felt truly... free. It was as though the weight that he had always lugged around with him had suddenly been taken away. His chains were being severed, and his soul was being liberated. All of the past wrongs, all of the past hurts seemed so insignificant now. His father *loved* him. His father was... hugging him? When had that happened? Yes, it was true. His father was clinging to him as if for dear life, and he was clinging back, feeling like a ten-year-old boy again. His love for his father washed over him, as he buried his face in his father's shoulder. The Admiral was speaking to him... mumbling almost incoherently. "Please forgive me, Tom," he was repeating over, and over. "I love you so much. Please give me the chance to try and make things right." As the Admiral spoke, he too felt his soul being released. Both the Admiral, and Tom, knew that things were not going to be easy for them. Years of misunderstandings and hard feelings couldn't be washed away in one night... but they didn't care. They were given a second chance, and that was all that mattered. The future would be what they made it.