Title: Knight, Miss Worker Author: Voy_Girl --- Write me: frky_vg@kittymail.com Written: 22-23/12 2002 SPOILER WARNING: Workforce 1 DISCLAIMER: don’t own P/T, or the planet Quarra, or any of the workers. Summary: What if B'Elanna agreed to meeting Tom and the other pregnant couple. Set between Tom proposed it, and Neelix kidnapped B’Elanna. Code/s: T, P, P/T. 3rd person POV. Genre: Drama Beta Reader: Danni (Seven of Nine) --- Write her: The-Sunshine-Princess@dannimatzk.co.uk Big Special Thank You! *************************************************************************** "Knight, Miss Worker" by Voy_Girl *************************************************************************** The doors to her lean collection of clothes slammed shut almost immediately after she’d opened them. B’Elanna grinned at the smooth doors, resisting an urge to rest her damp forehead against the cool material. Everything she did seemed to wear her out nowadays. She had nothing to worry, not to think especially about. A meeting with a friend wasn’t the same as a mentally strenuous date. She grabbed the black, warm coat and wrapped it around her shoulders, unwilling to button it since the strain of the fabric covering her belly irritated her. * When she closed the door to her little apartment, she realized she still had a small smile at the corners of her lips. And by all the means of justice; she deserved to be a little happy. A glad and open mind could make any evening float faster. B’Elanna just wasn’t sure she wanted this coming evening to end as abruptly as she feared. When she’d finally worked up the courage to accept Tom’s invitation to a meeting with him and the other couple who expected their first born, she needed some quality time with them too. With possible friends, being so rare and unique in her world, that she’d for a long time, alone with her bitterness, had placed ‘friends’ as a title which should be protected from her by Quarran law. *** B’Elanna had been at the table for almost twenty long, alone, deceiving minutes. The atmosphere clouded with steam and aromas drove her nose’s mucus membranes to tickle, due to her pregnancy. The whole thing was uncomfortable for her, but she couldn’t do anything but wait, just another moment. Her self-confidence fluctuated with every breath; she drummed a tactless melody against the glossy tabletop. They weren’t going to show- neither of them. Her heart beat double every time someone had passed her table, but it had never been Tom, her flirtful acquaintance, or a pregnant couple. She was just about to rise and hurry home accompanied by her own embittering, when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder force her down again. The following second, Tom slumped down in the chair to her right side, and B’Elanna hoped her relieved sigh wasn’t too audible. "I’m sorry, I’m late!" Tom squinted at her. "Math and Kizaar cancelled in the last minute; actually a few minutes after that." B’Elanna twisted a piece of a napkin; she’d torn it into pieces while waiting, between her fingers; focused only on that single piece. "Why?" "Apparently Kizaar had become nauseous just before they were getting dressed to leave. I take it you know how it is. A mutual friend got to me just as I walked out my door." Tom also took a piece of a former napkin from one of the piles she’d ordered them in. After size and completeness. He realized that she really did not have much to do. "I thought you were going to work here tonight." She nodded at the disk in the other end of the room. "And I felt... betrayed when I saw that you weren’t already here." "Oh, this is actually my one free night this week." A few seconds passed, during which only the faint sound of paper napkins being torn could be heard around their table. "I understand if you want to go home now. You might be tired," he mumbled, deliberately freeing his fingers from the addictive plucking he engorged now. "No," she looked up, a whole new sight of determination; life, rose within her eyes. "Now I’m here, as we decided. And there’s no reason why two friends can’t take a short walk in the evening." B’Elanna finished soberly, emphasized ‘friends’ carefully, and elicited a suiting smile from both Tom and herself. The two stood up, and much to B’Elanna’s perplex, Tom insisted on draping the coat over her shoulder, too keep the threatening chills away from her. *** Well outside, the air was clear but cold. They both felt exhilarated and alive, breathed deeply to stay that way. "How long have you been here?" Tom asked, perfectly satisfied strolling next to B’Elanna’s side. "A few weeks. You?" "About the same." B’Elanna nodded and noticing that he glanced at her round belly, she smiled. "I didn’t know him too well." Needless to ask her to specify, Tom understood that she finally talked about the father of her unborn baby. A child who would meet a cold and taunting world without a father to shelter it. It didn’t matter how strong the mother was, a child bound to grow up in this world, needed two parents according to Tom’s personal beliefs. That was why he begun seeing something more than a possible romance when he realized she was pregnant. She needed shelter that no one could give, and he pitied her. *** A white puff of steam reached out for the pair as they walked yet another meter. During the past fifteen minutes he’d heard more anxiety and sorrow than he’d done in his whole life, and it was all poured out of a single person. B’Elanna had even stopped short to lean her head against his shoulder and catch her breath when the story became too heavy, too fresh, and too painful. She only touched the part that was fresh, not so much about her life before the pregnancy, but how some of the other workers looked at her. Their short walk had turned into a trip down memory lane, and it was late. They realized that the curfew must have possessed the area since long ago, and that they just were lucky not to have run into the arms of a waiting guard. B’Elanna prompted that they’d go their separate ways back to their respective apartments, since it would be ‘faster to move alone’. Tom knew that she subtly implied that she delayed him, but he ignored it and kept quiet. "So, it’s good-bye for today," she stated, frank. Dark eyes sparkling, the only evidence of that she’d truly enjoyed her best evening for a very long time. "Sadly, it is." They looked directly at one another and Tom weren’t even aware that they got closer until them, all of a sudden; abrupt and speechless were separated by mere inches. He could feel the life radiating, glowing and reflecting, from her warm skin; so different the cold night surroundings. Panic welled up inside of B’Elanna, with a sacrifice of pure self-defence she turned away, broke the delicate, astonishing connection they’d built. He was not going to get permission to kiss her. No one would, ever again. That was it. "I wanted a friend," she whispered, future tear-stains already scattering across her blank eyes. "As you promised me." And so B’Elanna Torres stalked away, the spring in her steps gone. Now each step was heavy, a hard and struggling fight. Like they had been before. She drove her hands deep down into the pockets of her handed attire, the green trouser suit she’d grown so fond of. The coldness swirling around her seemed colder and more aggressive than ever. She just wanted to go home and build herself inside a bunker of quilts, blankets and pillows. All the time alone with Tom she’d been waiting to give him that burning comment which flamed up within her anytime he looked at her. And every time he smiled it burst out of control until she was alone again. He saved her from a life on her own, but now she feared that flame was dying. "If I had known the father of my baby, I would have wanted him to be like you." High praise from her side. She sighed deeply and shuddered as another outburst of imperishable steam shot into her face. And now he would never hear it. **** End. ***