Disclaimer:  Star Trek and its characters are 
the property of Viacom/Paramount.  I am just 
borrowing them for fun, not profit.  

Synopsis:  A small coda story to the episode 
"Hunters", including my interpretation on 
whether B'Elanna knows more than she's saying 
about any "missing" letters.  P/T, rated PG.
****************

"Nothing But Time"
  by Julie Evans (Juli17@aol.com)


B'Elanna Torres pulled her clean blue satin 
shirt on and buttoned it.  Neelix's party was 
last minute and informal, but she'd needed to 
at least discard her uniform and shower 
quickly after the long and eventful day she'd 
been through.  She wasn't really looking 
forward to the party, but she knew it would 
be a welcome respite for many after the 
emotional roller coaster that everyone had 
been on all day.  And a chance for most to 
share their good news.

After all, through the letters that had been 
received from the Alpha quadrant today most 
of the crew had finally made the reconnection 
to friends and family that they had so 
desperately longed for.  And for most it was 
good news- family gossip about marriages, 
births, graduations- cherished moments that 
had been missed but now could be relived 
through reading and rereading the letters.  
For a few the news was not so good.  The loss 
of a lover or friend, who had moved on, 
believing that Voyager and those aboard her 
were gone forever.  Or worse, the loss of 
friends or family through death, the pain of 
that loss intensified by the fact that there 
had never been a chance for final goodbyes.  
As there hadn't been for Chakotay, for the 
rest of the former Maquis, or for herself...

B'Elanna sighed.  She'd dealt with her own 
anger and sadness by crying through her lunch 
break this afternoon, an emotional outlet 
that would have really irritated her mother, 
who had preferred that B'Elanna break all the 
furniture in the house rather than display 
her half human traits, like crying.  But the 
Maquis deserved her tears.  They had been her 
friends.  More than that.  For a brief time, 
they'd been her family.  The only semblance 
of family she'd had any longer in the Alpha 
quadrant.  And the only ones there who might 
have welcomed her back, who might have been 
glad to hear that she was still alive...

She certainly hadn't expected a letter from 
anyone in her own family.  Her father was 
long gone, and had never looked back.  And 
there had only been words of bitterness 
between B'Elanna and her mother the last time 
they'd seen each other, when they had 
irrevocably parted ways, years before she'd 
ended up on Voyager.  Aunts, uncles, cousins, 
grandparents?  Those on her father's side she 
didn't even remember, and they had "left" 
when he had, if they'd ever been there at 
all.  Those on her mother's side had joined 
in ostracizing B'Elanna when she'd joined 
Starfleet Academy, perhaps even encouraged 
her mother to do so.  She hadn't spoken to 
any of them since.  The simple fact was, when 
it came to family- in the meaningful sense of 
the word- for a long time she'd had none at 
all.  Until the Maquis.

They had befriended her when no one else 
would.  No one in the Maquis had cared about 
where she'd come from, or about her genetic 
heritage.  They'd only cared about loyalty.  
And she'd always been that.  She still felt a 
small tight ball of rage buried deep inside 
at the thought of what the Cardassians, and 
the Federation's harsh political policies, 
had done to the Maquis.  Sending Starfleet to 
fight against their own people...

B'Elanna gathered her discarded uniform and 
tossed the pieces into the laundry bin.  She 
had to stop thinking about that.  Nothing 
would change what had happened.  They were 
gone.  Atara.  Roberto.  Almost all of them.  
The reality of that knowledge again assaulted 
her, and for just a moment it made her feel 
as alone as she had before she'd joined the 
Maquis.

The commlink beeped and B'Elanna started, 
then responded sharply.  "Yes?"

"B'Elanna, I'm on my way."  It was Tom Paris, 
his voice hurried, apologetic.  "Sorry, I 
know I'm late, but I had to finish some last 
minute navigational diagnostics."

"It's okay, Tom."  It was okay.  Tom wasn't 
the galaxy's most prompt person, but she 
found it bothered her less than she might 
have expected.  It certainly wasn't a reason 
to get mad at him.  Not when she was so 
absurdly glad to hear his voice at that 
moment.  And she'd had enough to really be 
angry about already today.  "I'm not in any 
hurry."

There was a pause, as if Tom wasn't sure how 
to respond.  Finally he just said in a quiet 
voice,  "It's been a crazy day.  I'll be 
there in a couple of minutes."

The commlink channel closed, and B'Elanna 
frowned.  She wondered how reconciled Tom 
really was to the fact that he hadn't gotten 
to read his father's letter.  When she'd told 
him on the bridge that she hadn't been able 
to retrieve any more of it he'd seemed really 
disappointed, but he'd recovered quickly.  
He'd agreed with her that he could just 
choose to believe that his father loved him 
and was proud of him.  He'd seemed sincere 
then, but she wondered if it would be that 
easy for him.  There was obviously a lot of 
bitterness between him and his father.  Like 
there was between her and her mother.

Owen Paris.  She hadn't even known his first 
name until today.  He had always just been 
"Tom's father" or "Admiral Paris" in her 
mind.  They'd never discussed him in enough 
detail for B'Elanna to ask his first name.  
They'd never discussed Tom's past in detail 
at all.  But, to be fair, they'd never 
discussed hers in great detail either.  They 
both glossed over those issues, Tom with self 
depreciating humor, B'Elanna with curt 
dismissiveness.  There were depths of 
themselves neither of them were comfortable 
revealing yet.  But maybe that was normal.  
Normal for them anyway.  The past held a lot 
of pain for her, and probably even more for 
Tom.  Unconditional love and acceptance 
hadn't been prevalent in either of their 
backgrounds.  In her case the conditions had 
been unachievable...

B'Elanna looked at the PADD on her desk, 
haphazardly dropped on top of several others.  
The PADD she'd still had in her hand today, 
after she'd delivered Harry's letter from his 
family and told Tom that his father's letter 
had been lost.  The PADD that contained the 
last letter the computer had been able to 
piece together before they'd lost the 
connection to the relay station.  She 
couldn't get away from the Astrometrics lab 
fast enough when she'd realized exactly what 
the letter was.  Later she'd brought it back 
here to her quarters, and she'd almost 
deleted the message the instant after she'd 
read the words.  Instead she'd left message 
on the screen and stared at it off and on for 
the past hour.

She couldn't tell Tom about it.  He had 
enough burdens to deal with right now.  She 
couldn't put this one on him too, and she 
knew his anger wouldn't change anything.  
There was nothing in the letter worth knowing 
or keeping anyway.  The PADD screen was 
asleep, its blackness comforting, but she 
didn't need to read the actual words again.  
They were etched in her mind.

"I have received word that you are still 
alive, somewhere in the Delta quadrant.  I 
was of course surprised, but I suppose it is 
preferable to the ignominious death I 
believed was your fate.  I reluctantly 
decided to send a message, so you will know 
that I am aware of your situation, though I 
suspect that knowledge is of little 
importance to you.  I was also informed that 
you have become a valuable member of the 
Voyager crew, that you have conducted 
yourself with honor and bravery, and that you 
have saved the lives of your fellow 
colleagues on more than one occasion.  As you 
know, I do not make hasty judgments based on 
such hearsay.  After all, I have known you 
all your life.  If you do return to the Alpha 
quadrant some day, perhaps I shall see then 
if this reported transformation in your 
character is at all accurate.  

"There is no need to reply to this message.  
I am well, and obviously you are also.  There 
is nothing more to say.  The appropriate 
ending would be to advise you to take care 
yourself, but you have always shunned my 
influence and done as you pleased, and no 
doubt will continue to do so."

No sense of real concern, no expression of 
the relief or happiness one might expect from 
a parent who has just learned that a child 
presumed dead is in fact alive and well.  
Certainly no hint of affection, or of a 
desire for reconciliation.  Only the words of 
someone who felt an obligation.  And who 
never shirked a duty.  How honorable.

B'Elanna grabbed the PADD roughly.  This was 
one letter that definitely didn't deserve her 
tears.  That pain was so old, and buried so 
deep, she couldn't even bring it to the 
surface anymore.  There was only a hollow 
sense of disappointment, that she chose not 
to acknowledge.  She pressed the delete key.  
Of course the PADD refused to oblige 
immediately.

*Your action will delete this data from the 
system permanently.  Do you wish to proceed?*

Yes, she did.  She responded to the words 
that had scrolled across the screen over the 
original message by pressing the appropriate 
button.

*You may request an encoded back up file be 
retained at this time.  Do you wish to do 
this?*

No.  She wanted to forget it had ever existed 
period.  She pressed another button.

*Please reconfirm permanent deletion request 
by entering a valid password.*

Damned failsafes.  B'Elanna punched in her 
password. 

*Deletion confirmed.*

Done.  Now she could just forget she'd ever 
read it.

Her door announcer beeped at that moment and 
B'Elanna jumped.  She tossed the PADD back on 
her desk.  "Enter."

Tom walked in, dressed casually in jeans and 
a white shirt.  He looked a little tired, but 
it had been a long and emotional day for 
everyone.  "More work?"  he asked, looking at 
the scattered PADDs on her desk.

B'Elanna shook her head.  "No.  I'm done for 
the day."  Luckily their little dance with 
the singularity hadn't seriously damaged 
Voyager or the engines.  She felt secure, and 
not a little relieved, to leave Engineering 
in other hands for the moment.  

Tom approached her, eyeing her closely.  "Are 
you all right?"  He dropped a hand lightly on 
her shoulder.

B'Elanna nodded.  "How about you?"

Tom shrugged and attempted a smile that 
faltered.  "Okay."

"Tom, I'm sorry-"

"B'Elanna, it's not your fault.  I know the 
letters were coming through in bits and 
pieces.  It would have been nice if we could 
have held the link to the relay station a 
little longer, but those are the breaks I 
guess."

B'Elanna saw the lingering regret in Tom's 
eyes and put a hand over his, where he was 
absently stroking her shoulder.  "Tom, I know 
how much you wanted to read that letter."

"Yeah, I guess I did.  But we may find a way 
to contact Starfleet again.  In fact I'm sure 
we will.  And, B'Elanna, I really did mean 
what I said."  He turned his hand and gripped 
hers.  "Letters or no letters, nothing I had 
back there is as important- or as good- as 
what I have right here."

B'Elanna's heart tripped.  Tom's eyes were 
locked with hers, his feelings crystal clear 
in those blue depths.  After the other 
emotions the day had generated that look sent 
a welcome rush of warmth through her.  Her 
hand tightened over his.  "There's nothing 
back there for me at all, Tom.  Not anymore."  
It was a simple fact, and she didn't say it 
with any sense of self pity.  Only with a 
small pang of regret.  Tom frowned and she 
squeezed his hand.  "Everything I want is 
right here on Voyager, too."

Tom let go of her hand and wrapped his arms 
around her, hugging her close.  B'Elanna 
hugged him back, pressing her face against 
his neck.  His hair was still damp and he 
smelled soapy and clean, mixed with something 
that was uniquely Tom.  She loved that smell.  

"B'Elanna, I know you weren't expecting a 
letter,"  he whispered into her hair.

"No."  That one word was the truth.  And she 
thought she managed adequately to keep the 
bitterness out of her voice.  But maybe not.

Tom's arms tightened around her.  "I'm 
sorry."  He sounded more angry than sad.  
Then he sighed.  "And I'm sorry about the 
Maquis.  I know it must hurt..."

B'Elanna pulled back and looked up at Tom, 
keeping her hands  locked loosely around his 
neck.  "Some of them were good friends to 
me."  She smiled wistfully.  "Actually they 
were my only friends in the Alpha quadrant.  
It's hard to believe they are all gone."

Tom reached up and brushed a hand across her 
cheek.  "You cried over them,"  he said 
softly.  "They must have been very good 
friends.  I wish I'd had the chance to know 
them better myself, but I-"  Tom stopped 
suddenly and his hand dropped from her face.

B'Elanna saw the hesitation and discomfort 
that flashed across his face and she 
understood.  She knew his own association 
with the Maquis had been very brief, and the 
outcome had been painful.  Painful enough 
that he'd been willing to do almost anything 
to alleviate it.  Something else they had yet 
to talk about.  But she didn't blame him, or 
anyone else on Voyager, for what had happened 
to the Maquis.  She said simply,  "You would 
have liked them."

Tom nodded.  "I'd like to know more about 
them, especially since they were such a part 
of you."

"Well, they were probably not people Owen 
Paris would have liked,"  B'Elanna said, 
putting the slightest emphasis on the first 
name.

"Touche."  Tom smiled wryly.  "B'Elanna, I 
know we need to-"

The commlink beeped at that moment.  They 
frowned at each other and B'Elanna answered 
in a frustrated tone.  "Yes?"

"B'Elanna!"  Neelix's animated voice burst 
through the link.  "The party is starting.  
Only a few people are missing.  Is Tom there 
with you?"

B'Elanna sighed.  "He's here."

"Ah, I suspected so."

Tom looked at B'Elanna and a genuine smile 
lit his face.

"You are coming to the party, I hope?"

"We're on our way, Neelix,"  Tom said.

"Good.  I think you'll appreciate what I've 
done with the decor, Tom.  And now I have 
another pair of stragglers to round up.  See 
you soon!"

"I guess we have to put in an appearance,"  
B'Elanna said as Neelix's exuberant voice 
faded away.

"A token appearance at least,"  Tom amended.  
"After that, I can think of other, better 
ways to end the evening."  His hands had 
crept around her waist again and he pulled 
her closer to him.

B'Elanna smiled at Tom's softly suggestive 
tone.  "I can think of a few better ways 
myself,"  she murmured.  Her eyes focused on 
his mouth for a moment, and Tom obliged her 
by lowering his lips to meet hers.  They 
kissed slowly, letting their lips linger for 
a moment.  Then Tom pulled away before the 
kiss could go deeper.

"We'd better get to that party while my 
willpower is still holding out."  He gave her 
a cocky smile.  "You'll just have to wait for 
the good part."

B'Elanna dropped her hands from his neck and 
let them slide slid down his chest.  "I've 
waited before."  She'd already spent most of 
her life waiting for it to be like this.  
Waiting for Tom.  "It's worth it."  

Tom wrapped an arm around her shoulders, 
pulling her close to him.  "B'Elanna, how did 
I ever live without you?"

He asked the rhetorical question lightly, and 
there was a teasing smile on his face, but 
there was a thread of sincerity in his tone, 
and in his eyes.  B'Elanna silently slid an 
arm around his waist and thought that maybe, 
just maybe, neither of them would ever know 
again what it was like to be completely 
alone.  

They walked out of her quarters arm in arm 
and headed toward the holodeck to share in 
the happiness that so many of their friends 
had found today in their letters from home.  
And B'Elanna realized that the distress she 
felt today as a result of the letters had in 
a strange way highlighted the opposite turn 
her life had taken since she'd ended up on 
Voyager.  Even as she grieved for her friends 
in the Maquis she knew that her life, like 
Tom's, was better here than it had ever been, 
better than she had ever reasonably hoped 
for.  Sad moments and all.  And she found she 
could cope with those moments now in ways 
that she couldn't before.  

Perhaps when she and Tom got back to her 
quarters she would tell him about her friends 
in the Maquis.  About Atara, who could 
reprogram a computer faster than anyone she'd 
ever known, and who loved to mother everybody 
whether they needed it or not.  Or Roberto, 
who had the ability to make even the most 
sober of the Maquis, herself included, laugh 
at his horrible jokes.  And maybe Tom would 
tell her about his father, who Owen Paris 
was, and why it had been so hard for him to 
simply love his son.  Or maybe they would be 
content for the time being to just hold each 
other, and let the comfort of being in each 
other's arms wash away the lingering sadness 
of the day.  

The doors to Holodeck Two opened as they 
approached.  Tom smiled at B'Elanna and she 
smiled back.  They were together, and she 
realized that was enough for now.  More than 
enough.  As for the rest, it would come.  
After all, they had nothing but time.  They 
walked through the doors, their hands clasped 
firmly together. 
**************

The end.