Disclaimer:  The characters, setting and series belong 
to Paramount et Cie.  The inspiration belongs to the P/T 
Collective Archivist's Challenge.  The rest is history!



     Tom Paris absently dressed for duty.  His service-gray 
turtleneck all but disappeared beneath Starfleet's command 
series red and black pullover.  One final tug brought the 
uniform smoothly into place, but all the while his eyes 
vaguely focused on an unwieldy, dull metallic box, sitting 
to one side of the counter.  Such a small thing to inspire 
so much distress and doubt-emotions that Tom did his best 
to avoid!

     Ever since he'd heard of B'Elanna's arrest on the Mari 
homeworld, Tom was unable to recapture the initial glee 
he'd felt in finding the "perfect" present for Voyager's 
bewitching and fascinating engineer.  Lieutenant B'Elanna 
Torres: the woman he loved.

     The present had lain in his quarters, forgotten during 
the feverish hours of B'Elanna's imprisonment, while Tom 
created and presented a series of rescue plan, hoping to 
convince Commander Chakotay to authorize a mission to win 
B'Elanna's release.  But they both knew that Captain 
Janeway's sense of fair play precluded any open attack on 
the Mari justice system.  Relief couldn't come close to 
describing Tom's feelings when Tuvok's dogged, undercover 
investigation had revealed the seamy underside of "perfect" 
Mari pacifism.  The planetary authorities released their 
prisoner and Voyager cleared the system almost before the 
last official apologies were made.

     B'Elanna was back.  Wonder of wonders, no lasting 
mental trauma was detected during her medical scans.  
Unable to find further excuses to detain his impatient 
patient, the holodoc finally excused Voyager's engineer 
with a dark look.  Clearly he knew that his prescription 
for rest would be ignored.

     Experience had taught him well.  With Tom at her side, 
Lieutenant Torres made a beeline for the engine room, not 
her quarters.

     "B'Elanna," Tom said warningly as her intentions 
became clear.  "You're supposed to be resting for the next 
twelve hours, not on duty!"

     The half-Klingon shot him a speaking glance.  "I know, 
Tom," she replied with exaggerated patience, "I was there 
when the doctor gave me his `advice'."  Her steps gradually 
increased in speed and length until even the long-limbed 
helmsman found himself rushing to match her stride.

     B'Elanna continued as they passed through Main 
Engineering's outer doors.  "I'll just rest better after 
checking out my engines.  I'm still a little . . . keyed 
up, that's all.  This will help me relax."

     Tom understood her unspoken message.  B'Elanna was 
dealing with the trauma of her confinement and aborted 
mental "cleansing" by clinging to the normal and relatively 
safe routines of Voyager.  A small part of him felt 
disappointment that she didn't turn to him for this 
comfort, but their relationship was so new and untested 
that such an alternative obviously hadn't entered her mind.  
He suppressed a sigh and leaned his shoulder against a 
bulkhead, unobtrusively waiting while B'Elanna finished her 
ritual check-up.

Brown eyes quickly scanned the main monitoring 
screens.  Practiced taps pulled up detailed records of the 
last two shifts' repair logs and warpcore performance 
benchmarks.  Breathlessly, a junior ensign stood 
respectfully at a distance.  Gamma shift usually saw the 
Chief Engineer only rarely.  Breakdowns, crises, alien 
takeovers or "surprise inspections" were never cause for 
celebration.  But whatever Lieutenant Torres saw on the 
monitors seemed acceptable.  With a nod, a quick smile to 
Lieutenant Carey, who hovered near a secondary set of 
screens, B'Elanna turned and abruptly exited the engine 
room.

     She made it two meters beyond the door where she 
suddenly leaned limply against the corridor bulkhead.  Tom, 
who'd been silent since her discharge from sickbay, gently 
seized her upper arms.

     "Are you satisfied now, B'Elanna?" he demanded softly.  
"Harry and Joe Carey took good care of your engines while 
you were gone.  NOW"-irritation and concern edged his 
voice-"will you get some rest?"

     She turned her head to one side, avoiding his eyes.  
Tom softly repeated his question as he ducked his face in 
an effort to meet her gaze.

     She looked up resentfully.  "I'll try, it's just . . . 
oh, you wouldn't understand!"  B'Elanna wrenched away from 
Tom and strode purposefully towards the turbolift.

     "Try me," Tom suggested as he followed.  "You might be 
surprised."

     "I just can't get it out of my mind," B'Elanna began 
hesitantly.  "Sitting there in the Mari's `medical center' 
waiting for them to `cleanse' me!  The injustice of it all, 
I mean, wiping out your MIND because somebody might pick up 
a bad thought!  And nobody there understood what I was 
going through.  They all thought I was some sort of monster 
for thinking the way I did.  And I couldn't do a damned 
thing about it!"

     "I know," Tom offered, "at least a little bit of what 
you're going through.  Remember," he qualified as she 
tilted her head in surprise, "the Captain picked me up 
after I'd been jail for two years.  Two years of hell, 
where everybody either hated me for my family, my screw-up 
at Caldik Prime or my turn with the Maquis."

     As the turbolift doors opened, he indicated she should 
precede him to her quarters.  "I'm sorry, Tom," B'Elanna 
offered.  "It's hard to think of you that way."

     "I'm glad," Tom responded dryly. "You sure hate for 
the woman you love to dwell on your unsavory past."  She 
smiled at this weak joke.  Tom's spirits began to rise as 
they entered her quarters.  If B'Elanna was able to see 
that she wasn't alone in her experience, she was on the way 
to getting through the trauma.

     "Look, I'll say good night now, B'Elanna," Tom said as 
they stood uncertainly in the dimly lit room.  He ducked 
his head to steal a sweet kiss.  "You need your rest and 
I've got to report two hours early this morning for" he 
grimaced feelingly "biannual helm efficiency tests."  Her 
arms stole around him in a fierce hug and B'Elanna gazed up 
at him with tear-bright eyes.

     "Thanks Tom, for understanding.  You're too good for 
me sometimes."

     "Yeah, I know," he cheerfully replied, then quickly 
ducked out of the doors of her quarters as B'Elanna raised 
her hands and began an indignant reply.

****

     The helm efficiency tests, mercilessly administered by 
Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, had taken almost the entire day 
as each of Voyager's regular pilots took the ship through a 
series of drills and maneuvers designed to sharpen their 
skills.  Even the Captain had taken a turn at the combined 
simulator and conn exercises, although hers had been 
briefer than that allotted to the regular pilots.  
Commander Chakotay joked at the wilted expression of the 
men and women finally released from Tuvok's exhaustive 
regime, staggering out of the briefing room.

     "Who's up for a rappelling expedition at 2200 hours?  
Neelix has programmed some famous Talaxian cliffs and is 
inviting all comers."  The second-in-command's dark eyes 
glittered at the universal groan from the piloting ranks.  
"What about you, Tom?  Isn't climbing one of your favorite 
sports?"

     "Not tonight, Commander," Tom replied, raising his 
hand warningly, "I think I'll just find a quiet soft corner 
and curl up."

     His admission of weakness inspired a round of ribbing 
from the other pilots, then a ridiculous series of 
elevating complaints as they entered the turbolift.  Tom 
lagged behind as he caught Chakotay's eye.

     "What is the problem, Commander?" he challenged.  
Rapidly, Tom searched his memory for any recent actions of 
his Chakotay might have caught wind of.  The prank that he 
and Harry had pulled on the holodoc, replacing his 
"patient-friendly" vocabulary with ancient slang 
equivalents from old Earth movies?  It had been worth it to 
hear of Ensign Vorik's stiff outrage at being diagnosed 
with "jock itch!

     "Have you given it to her, yet?" Chakotay asked.

     Tom's eyes widened with surprise, and then he relaxed 
as he realized that Chakotay had made an unintended double 
entendre.  "Oh, you mean B'Elanna's present," Tom replied.  
"Umm, well, no, I haven't, actually, yet."  His voice 
trailed off defensively, then he regarded the Commander 
with renewed suspicion.  "Anyway, how did you know?"

     "Kath-, I mean, the Captain told me about it.  After 
all, you did get clearance from her and Tuvok to bring the 
package aboard.  Something so, unusual, was sure to arouse 
some comment."  Chakotay failed to conceal his grin as Tom 
shifted his weight from one foot to another under the older 
man's scrutiny.

     "Yeah, well, like I said, I haven't given it to her 
yet.  It didn't seem right last night, not after she just 
got released from sickbay, and then today, with Lieutenant 
Tuvok's tests. . . ."  Tom's voice trailed off in 
resignation.

     "I understand, Lieutenant.  And I imagine I'm not 
helping matters, keeping you here on the bridge.  See you 
tomorrow, that is, unless you've reconsidered the climbing 
expedition?"  Chakotay's voice ended on a rising note.

     Tom grinned.  Obviously the commander had been to slow 
to evade the cherubic Talaxian's invitation and was seeking 
fellow sufferers.  "Nah, I think I'll give that a miss 
tonight.  See you tomorrow, commander."  He jauntily exited 
to the turbolift.

     As the doors closed, bringing privacy, Tom queried the 
computer for B'Elanna's location.  "Lieutenant Torres is on 
Deck Four."  Tom's brow rose consideringly.  "Paris to 
Torres," he paged.

     B'Elanna replied edgily, "Torres here."

     "Just wanted to know, are we still on for dinner 
tonight?"  Tom winced as he prepared himself for 
disappointment.  B'Elanna's first shift back should have 
ended almost an hour ago, and yet it seemed she was still 
at it.

     "Dinner?  What time is it, Rodriguez."  The pause 
lengthened as B'Elanna obviously consulted with some of the 
junior engineering staff.  "Tom, I'm sorry, it looks like 
I'm going to have to give it a miss tonight.  We're 
replacing some cracked paneling in the upper EPS conduits 
and it's gotten a bit tricky . . . ."  Her voice trailed 
off as the engineering problem reclaimed her attention.

     "I understand.  I'll probably make an early night of 
it anyway.  We just finished those helm efficiency tests, 
after all."  Tom rubbed the nape of his neck and winced 
again, this time at the muscles' stiffness.

     "Oh, how'd you do, helmboy?  Keep your number one 
status?"  A teasing note entered B'Elanna's husky voice, 
transmitted by the communicator.

     "Not only did I get the highest scores in ALL 
categories, I bettered my last performance by 2.9%," Tom 
assured her.  "Why, even Tuvok had something good to say."  
Tom waited for the inevitable question.

     "What something good to say?" B'Elanna asked 
curiously, her attention fully restored by Tom's easygoing 
banter.

     "He said, and I quote, `A noticeable improvement, Mr. 
Paris.'"  The chuckle that followed over the communicator 
brought a smile to Tom's face.  It was always a triumph to 
win B'Elanna's attention back from her work, even if only 
for a moment.  -Best to stop while you're ahead, Paris,- he 
cautioned himself.  "Paris out."

     "Torres out."  In a few moments, the turbolift doors 
opened and Tom was soon at the messhall.  The unmistakable 
scent of Neelix's cooking filled the air.  Cloying 
sweetness vied with a slightly scorched meat odor.  -Good 
thing that Chakotay's still on duty,- thought Tom as he 
searched the offerings for something palatable, -the smell 
alone would violate all of his dietary sensibilities.-

     "Tom, over here," came a hail in Harry Kim's 
unmistakably cheery voice.  Loading his tray with the most 
innocuous of tonight's choices, Tom made his way over to 
the small table where Harry sat, nursing a cup of some 
steaming beverage.  "Heard the scuttlebutt about the tests.  
How can you keep topping yourself?" Harry smiled across the 
table and raised the mug to his lips.

     "Oh you know how it is, Harry, the best just keep 
getting better and better," Tom replied airily as he used a 
fork to spear some spindly blue fibers.  He lifted the 
serving in the air and eyed it dubiously before finally 
tasting.  Finding the results survivable, Tom chewed and 
swallowed before continuing, "the rest of you mere mortals 
can only hope that such genius will rub off in your 
presence."

     "We bow at the altar, oh mighty one," joked Harry as 
he made a sketchy bow across the table, spilling his hot 
drink.  "Ouch," he exclaimed as a few drops hit his hands.  
Tom's smile widened at his friend's discomfort.

     "Maybe I shouldn't make you my chief disciple.  You're 
a little clumsy for the job," he noted as Harry hurriedly 
wiped at the hot liquid with his left sleeve.

     "Funny, funny, Tom," Harry answered.  "So, I meant to 
ask, what did B'Elanna think of her present?"

     "Christ, Harry, I haven't had a chance to give it to 
her yet!"  Tom laid down his fork and explained, "Today's 
been hectic for BOTH of us, and now B'Elanna's gone and 
cancelled our dinner date because she's wrapped up in some 
EPS conduits on Deck Four.  Anyway, I'm having second 
thoughts about the present."

     "But why?" Harry asked incredulously.  "We spent hours 
in the Mari market, combing it for `just the right thing' 
for B'Elanna.  Then you spent half an hour fast talking 
Lieutenant Tuvok and the Captain to allow us to bring it 
aboard.  You aren't telling me now that all the work was 
for nothing.  Especially," Harry concluded darkly, "when I 
passed up the chance to have lunch with that Mari dancer to 
help you with your shopping."

     "I know, I know, Harry, and I appreciate what you did, 
but really, after what B'Elanna went through at the hands 
of the Mari, do you think she really wants some sort of 
souvenir?  I mean, maybe it's just going to bring up bad 
memories."  Tom's shoulders slumped dejectedly as he 
speared another forkful of the blue stalks.

     "I hadn't thought of it that way, Tom, but I'm sure 
B'Elanna would still love the gift.  After all, it really 
is precisely the kind of gift she'd love!"  Harry paused 
thoughtfully as Tom continued to eat his dinner.  "If 
there's anyway I can help," Harry's voice trailed off as he 
rose from the table.

     "What?  Oh, thanks, Harry, but I don't think there's 
much you can do to help me out here," Tom replied 
abstractedly.  He pushed the half-full tray away, then 
cleared that and Harry's mug off of the table.  Nodding to 
a few other shipmates, Tom made his way back to his 
quarters.

     The damned box sat mutely on the low table in his 
quarters.  "Don't you start at me, too," Tom warned it.  He 
tried to relax, reading a historical novel that Captain 
Janeway had recommended, but soon set aside the datapadd 
containing Cyrano de Bergerac.  The hero's insecurities 
made it impossible for Tom to lose himself in the novel's 
lyrical flow.  -Although, admit it, his Roxanne sounds just 
as exciting and terrifying a challenge as B'Elanna.  No 
wonder the guy keeps waffling and ducking behind pretty 
boy, Christian.  After all, how long did it take me to get 
up the courage to approach B'Elanna?  And if Sakari IV 
hadn't ever happened, I might still be waiting and hoping.-

     Finally Tom got ready for bed, although not before 
moving the gift box out of sight.  Even stowed in the 
bathing alcove, its unseen presence haunted his restless 
sleep.

****     

     Now, as Tom readied for a new day, he still debated 
over the gift.  -Should I give it to her, or just get rid 
of it.  Harry's right, it is perfect.  But Mari will always 
bring bad memories.-  Tom continued his musings as he made 
his way to the bridge.

     This day's shift proceeded fairly uneventfully.  
Harry's long range scans led the Captain to order a slight 
detour to search a particularly rich planetary asteroid 
belt for some useable rare elements.  The successful 
asteroid capture left the bridge and engineering crews 
elated and relaxed, while Seven of Nine only raised an 
enquiring eyebrow at the resultant hubbub.

     Tom also felt pleased, but as the shift wound down, he 
felt under increased scrutiny.  Every new arrival on the 
bridge seemed to stop and stare at him, however briefly.  
The attention irritated him.  -Probably one of Harry's 
jokes.-  At the end of his shift, when he handed off the 
conn, Tom tried not to rush too obviously off the bridge.  
As the turbolift sped him down towards the crew quarters' 
decks, Tom closed his eyes briefly and made the decision.

     -I'll just get rid of it.  Give it to the Captain and 
let her have it.  She'll probably enjoy it almost as much.-  
There, the decision made, Tom could look forward to his 
evening.  Hopefully, B'Elanna would be free tonight.  They 
could have dinner and just enjoy some time together.  He 
mentally rehearsed what he would say to her as the doors to 
his quarters glided open.

     "Finally," came a growl from the chair.  Tom jumped 
and stopped dead in the middle of the doorway.  B'Elanna 
sat quietly in the dimly lit anteroom of his quarters.  
Quiet, but watchful and waiting.  -Uh-oh,- Tom thought.  -
I've seen that look before.-

     "Computer, standard illumination," he swiftly directed 
as he stepped inside the room, letting the doors swoosh 
quietly closed behind him.  "B'Elanna, how nice to see you.  
I thought you were scheduled to supervise the shuttle 
engine realignments till 1900 hours tonight."  A finger 
nervously tugged at the suddenly too-tight collar of his 
uniform.

     "I was, but I decided that Vorik and Sanderson can use 
the practice.  Besides, I just had to see you."  The 
emphasis on the last sentence settled ominously in Tom's 
ears.  This was one angry woman.

     "See me," he smiled ingratiatingly.  "I'm flattered."

     "Well, don't be," growled B'Elanna.  "All yesterday 
and today, I've been feeling like a specimen under the 
scanner.  Then Harry explained that it was all because 
EVERYONE wanted to know what I thought about my present."

     "Why, that little sneak," expostulated Tom.  B'Elanna 
uncurled herself from the chair and in two quick strides 
confronted Tom from a breath's distance.

     "I'd stop worrying about Harry and start worrying 
about yourself, helmboy," warned the engineer.  "What's 
this about a present."

     "Well, you see, B'Elanna," Tom began awkwardly as her 
dark eyes drilled him mercilessly, "I bought you something 
when we made the stop on Mari.  I was all ready to give it 
to you when word came about your arrest.  Obviously, I had 
a lot more on my mind after that than some gift.  And then, 
when you got released, I wasn't sure that it was such a 
good idea anymore."

     His hands came up to gently grasp her shoulder, thumbs 
rubbing a gentle rhythm along the juncture between 
collarbone and neck.  "I didn't want to be responsible for 
bringing up bad memories, after what they almost did to 
you.  B'Elanna slowly relaxed as the massage continued.  
"It almost killed me, to hear what they were going to do to 
you, B'Elanna.  I didn't think you'd want anything from 
Mari, so I was going to throw it away."

     Her eyes flashed open.  "Throw away MY present," she 
exclaimed.  "You'd better not have done that, Tom Paris, or 
I'm going to make you have dinner with Neelix for the next 
month."

     Tom winced at the threat.  "Now relax, B'Elanna."  He 
dropped one hand from her shoulders to gesture to the 
bathing alcove.  "It's just sitting over there.  Why don't 
you sit down and I'll bring you your present."

     B'Elanna complied while Tom fetched the box.  He sat 
down beside her and passed her the present with a flourish.  
"Sorry there's no fancy wrappings or decorations," Tom 
began as B'Elanna examined the plain container with an 
assessing eye.

     "That's okay, as long as I like what's inside."  She 
looked up at him suspiciously.  "I WILL like what's inside, 
won't I Tom.  I mean, it's not some joke present that you 
and Harry concocted, is it?"

     "What?" Tom shook his head dismissively.  "No way, 
B'Elanna.  Harry and I searched hard to find you just the 
perfect gift. . . ."  His voice trailed off as she broke 
the seal.

     Inside the box lay an assortment of alien objects:  
fragments of larger devices, some micro-molecular relays, 
miniaturized power couplings and projection enhancers.  
Each item was tagged with a Mari description, to which Tom 
had meticulously appended his own translation and notes.

     B'Elanna stared speechlessly at the items nestled 
against the dark grey packing foam.  She finally picked up 
one of the relays, lifting it high to eye it consideringly.  
Then she carefully returned it to its nest and lifted out 
another object.

     "You bought me a bunch of broken tools and spare 
parts," she breathed as she examined a semi-transparent 
tube fitted with small toggles.

     "Yeah," Tom muttered shamefacedly.  "I guess it wasn't 
that romantic, but when I saw them on a seller's table, I 
thought of you.  The Mari merchant told me that they came 
from the workshop of an eccentric inventor.  He even had 
all the documentation and I took notes of everything he 
said.  Harry agreed with me that you'd love it."

     B'Elanna kept silent for an interminable time.  Tom 
felt himself babbling.  "You wouldn't believe what I had to 
go through in order to bring it on board.  I had to get the 
Captain's permission and Tuvok's clearance, before bringing 
unknown alien technologies aboard Voyager."  Blue eyes 
warily noted B'Elanna's lack of response.

     -Oh well,- thought Tom, -Maybe she'll forgive me by 
the time we get back to the Alpha Quadrant.-  He sat back 
glumly.  -I knew I should have gotten rid of it- he told 
himself as he braced for B'Elanna's response.

     Slowly her eyes refocused and B'Elanna carefully laid 
the tube back into the box.  She placed it onto the table 
in front of her and launched herself into Tom's arms.

     He fell back against the couch in surprise, arms 
folding around her in a tentative embrace.  "Tom Paris, 
that is the most thoughtful, wonderful, PERFECT gift anyone 
has every given me," B'Elanna burbled.  She levered himself 
up off of his chest to look him in the eye.  "No one has 
ever given me something so fun!  It isn't one of the 
typical girlfriend gifts that a guy gets when he wants to 
put her in the mood.  These are just great for me, B'Elanna 
Torres, engineer and scientist."

     "Do you have any idea what amazing things are in 
there?  I can't wait to sit down in with them and start 
examining some of the power systems they're using.  They're 
totally alien and" whatever B'Elanna had to say was cut off 
as Tom pulled her head down for a kiss.  She returned it 
passionately.  Tom tasted the sweetness of her mouth and 
ran his hands down her back in long strokes.  -I guess it 
was the perfect gift,- came his last hazy thought before 
B'Elanna's enthusiastic response overwhelmed his mind and 
body.

THE END
--------------------------------------------------------------------
 Janice Liedl, Associate Professor of History, Laurentian University
         http://www.laurentian.ca/www/history/liedl/home.htm
                    jliedl@nickel.laurentian.ca
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