"Poor Tom"
by Liz

What might have (should have) happened had Vorik appeared, say, five 
minutes later than he did...

Disclaimer: Paramount owns characters and stuff; the only thing that's 
mine is the alteration from the original story line.



"You must help her," Tuvok insisted to Lieutenant Paris, who found 
himself in one of the most awkward situations of recent memory. He 
almost protested, but then thought better of it, and allowed his facial 
expression to speak for itself. 

Chakotay and Tuvok shuffled off to allow him and B'Elanna their privacy 
as he approached her where she sat against the rock face, curled into a 
tortured ball of muttered, half-lucid curses. They don't train you for 
this kind of thing at Starfleet Academy, he thought wryly.

"Look, B'Elanna," he began. "I realize this is a pretty awkward 
situation... Probably not what either one of us would have wanted, but-"

"Tom," she interrupted, even now frustrated with him, "be quiet." She 
held a quivering finger to her lips for emphasis before dragging him by 
the hand into the trees.



Chakotay scuffed the toe of his boot in the dirt. Try as he might, he 
absolutely could not escape from the sounds of passion in the making, 
less than fifty yards from where he and Lieutenant Tuvok stood waiting. 
He could hear the two of them loud and clear, and it sounded like they 
were enjoying themselves very much, in a Klingon sort of way. In fact, 
it was beginning to have an effect on him, he realized, as part of him 
began involuntarily straining at the seams of his godawful climbing 
suit.

An especially loud snarl-it had to be B'Elanna's--reached their ears, 
lasting much longer than Chakotay would have predicted. Dammit. He was 
going to go through a little pon farr of his own in just a minute if he 
didn't get the hell out of here.

"Tuvok," he said, clearing his throat, "why don't we move a little 
farther away, and, ah, allow the lieutenants their privacy?" He began 
moving.

Tuvok protested. "Sir, I would advise against moving any farther away 
from Lieutenants Torres and Paris. We ought to stay in hearing range in 
case they are in need of assistance."

"Assistance?" Chakotay nearly decked the other officer before he 
realized that Tuvok was referring to other problems that might arise--
the Sikari, some wildlife attack, or whatever else. Still, Paris's yelp 
coming from the trees did not make Chakotay any less resolved to get out 
of there.

"Tuvok, I am about to make that an order. Now come on."

Tuvok held up a hand, cocking an ear to the trees. Silence had 
descended. "It would appear that Lieutenant Paris has completed his... 
duties."

Both officers discreetly checked their chronometers.

Chakotay cleared his throat. "Well, at least they were efficient about 
it. Let's give them a couple more minutes and then go check on them."

"Agreed."

Thank the spirits that was over. Chakotay still felt the need to relieve 
himself in the bushes, but he stood his ground now; he felt sure that 
the Vulcan would not be sympathetic. To hell with it, decided Chakotay, 
you can't deny your biology. If anything, this most recent of adventures 
had taught them all about that. He moved to the nearest batch of leafy 
vegetation.

He stopped in mid-stride when he heard Paris howl once again. Groaning, 
Chakotay buried his face in his hands. "Not more," he moaned. The voices 
were even louder now.

"Just a moment," Tuvok said. "Commander, I am hearing one female voice, 
and two male voices. There is another individual present."

"What the hell?" Privacy or not, Chakotay decided they had better move 
in now before someone got hurt in more than just a playful manner.




As Chakotay and Tuvok were checking their watches and debating their 
course of action, Tom was busy catching his breath. It was maybe the 
fastest ride of his experience, but from Tom's point of view, the last 
five minutes had by far been the most glorious of his life. He looked at 
B'Elanna's face above him (the two had been vying for the upper 
position, and in the end she had triumphed). Her breath was still 
heaving and hot from their exertions.

He disengaged himself as slowly as he could and still keep her in his 
arms. The feeling of her well-toned muscle and smooth, naked flesh 
beneath his hands was, quite honestly, amazing. He had always been 
attracted to athletic women, but B'Elanna by far overshot any of his 
past lovers, even as quickly as they had--well, as she had finished with 
him. "And she's ashamed of her Klingon side?" he wondered silently.

Tom rolled them both onto their sides, wincing at what might be a 
cracked rib or two. He kissed her softly, and was about to tell her that 
they ought to slow it down next time and enjoy it even more, when he 
heard the whine of a transporter. He felt himself suddenly shoved away 
from B'Elanna and into the bushes.

"Hey!" he shouted, thinking at first that it was B'Elanna who had pushed 
him. He couldn't have been that bad!

A well-placed kick to the other half of his already injured rib cage 
made him realize that the fully-clothed and flaming-from-the-ears figure 
above him was not his lover but the raging Ensign Vorik, come to retake 
his "mate." Paris, by contrast, was a little spent, had already 
sustained a few injuries, and was buck-naked except for the sock on one 
foot.

"She is my mate!" snarled the Ensign.

Paris couldn't help responding, "Not now she isn't." He just had time to 
grab his pants from the ground nearby before Vorik seized him by the 
shoulders and threw him to the opposite side of the clearing. He landed 
with a thud painful enough to make him holler, his head bouncing against 
the stone of the ruins behind him.

He looked to B'Elanna for help, but she was busy scrambling to replace 
her own torn clothing. And spitting and fuming and cursing in both 
Klingon and Federation standard.

"Ensign, what do you think you're doing?" Tom demanded, trying with his 
hands to cover his most vulnerable parts.

Just then, Chakotay and Tuvok appeared behind Vorik, grabbing him before 
the young Vulcan could advance again. "Let me go!! I must defend the 
honor of my mate!"

Chakotay rushed to keep the half-dressed B'Elanna back as Paris 
struggled to his feet. "I'll defend my own honor, you little arrogant-
headed petaQ!" she snarled.

"I will have her!"

"No, you won't, Ensign," said Chakotay loudly. "Both of you stop it."

"Commander," Tuvok said, "I fear we may not be able to stop them."

"Tom, didn't you do your job right?" Chakotay demanded. "I thought sex 
was supposed to calm down the pon farr-sufferer."

"It is," confirmed Tuvok, with one eyebrow raised toward Paris.

"Dammit, don't look at me!" Tom snapped. "I've already... I did what you 
told me to, okay?"

Vorik tried to break free of Tuvok's grip. "You're not finished yet, 
human!"

"The hell I'm not!"

"Lieutenant Paris," said Tuvok, "I must inform you that Vorik has made a 
formal challenge to you, according to Vulcan tradition. Fighting him 
will free him from his own pon farr."

"So if Tom says no, Vorik dies?" Chakotay questioned.

To Tom's chagrin, Tuvok nodded solemnly. "Now wait just a minute," he 
protested. "I've already... helped B'Elanna. Somebody else can take care 
of Vorik, as far as I'm concerned!" He glanced over to his left, where 
B'Elanna sat huddled in a ball, trying to collect herself. Not exactly 
his idea of post- coital bliss.

"That has already been attempted."

Grabbing a piece of someone's clothing to hold in front of himself, Tom 
was angry enough to consider punching Vorik now. But he had hit his head 
pretty hard; it looked to him like he was going about warp six with no 
starship. "I'm sorry, but I'm not going to fight him."

Chakotay came to his aid. "Tuvok, can't we just sedate Vorik and take 
care of the rest on Voyager?"

"Without communication to Voyager, we have no access to any sedative."

"Do you have some kind of vendetta against Tom I never knew about?"

Suddenly, Vorik broke free of Tuvok's grasp and rushed at Tom, who was 
too light-headed to dodge the oncoming assault. Vorik slugged Tom across 
the jaw, landing his fist there with a very loud smack. Managing to stay 
on his feet, Tom raised his head back up as quickly as possible, butting 
the crown of his head on Vorik's jaw. To his satisfaction, Vorik grunted 
with the pain of impact.

The next thing Tom knew, he had landed at Chakotay's feet, having been 
tossed like a rag doll once more. "Tough luck, Paris," he thought before 
he blacked out altogether.


That was not the last word, however. Vorik had forgotten to account for 
the opinion of his prospective mate. B'Elanna had by now returned to her 
normal self, and seeing what was happening, lost her temper again.

Just as Vorik was about to kick Tom once more for good measure, she 
grabbed the presumptuous ensign by the shoulder and flipped him around 
so that he fell on his back and had to catch his breath.

"You insolent, arrogant, stupid little Vulcan," she seethed. "If you 
want a fight, then I'll give you one!"

With Vorik still in a pon farr-induced haze, it took less than fifteen 
seconds for her to get him down for the ten count. While unsteady on her 
feet, she nonetheless managed to keep her balance as she caught her 
breath. Chakotay reached out to steady her. "B'Elanna, are you all 
right?" The glare she gave him was furious, but to his relief, it was 
not sex-crazed. "Tuvok," he said, "check on Vorik."

"Janeway to Commander Chakotay."

"Captain! Thank goodness."

"Are you all right down there? We lost communication with you."

"Ensign Vorik must have disabled the comm link before beaming down to 
the surface," surmised Tuvok.

Chakotay nodded. "We're all alive, Captain, but three of us are in 
pretty bad shape. Requesting a direct transport to sickbay."

"Permission granted. I'll meet you there; I can't wait to hear all about 
it."


The next thing Tom knew was the soft hum of sickbay, currently being 
interrupted by an argument happening somewhere off to his right. He 
cracked an eye with a mind to help, but then realized that he still had 
no clothes on. In fact, someone had been so good as to remove his 
remaining sock.

With his only form of shelter the arch of the biobed over him, he shut 
his eyes again and kept very, very still. Maybe this would all just go 
away if he didn't move.

"Just look at what you've done, you ignorant, stupid little Vulcan," 
B'Elanna was shouting. "You have absolutely humiliated me!"

"I regret any actions I have performed which have caused you 
discomfort," was Vorik's monotone reply. Well, at least those two were 
back to normal.

"You might have killed Lieutenant Paris"--Tom winced at her calling him 
by his title--"and you caused an enormous incident that this entire ship 
will be talking about for months." He winced again to hear that she 
thought of the latter as the worse fate.

The Doctor mercifully intervened. "May I remind the both of you that 
this is a sickbay, not a boxing ring? I want you both confined to your 
quarters for the next twenty-four hours. No buts, Lieutenant. I refuse 
to have either one of you doing any more damage to Lieutenant Paris, 
each other, or anyone else on this vessel. Understood?"

Someone had the good taste to drop a blanket on top of Tom so that the 
view wasn't quite so... revealing. It was about time.

Vorik had already consented and left the sickbay when Tom finally opened 
his eyes. B'Elanna, on the other hand, seemed about to protest when they 
made eye contact. She turned a shade of bright red, stammered her 
agreement, and left the room moving faster than she had in the mines.

The Doctor appeared in his field of vision. "Congratulations, Mr. 
Paris!" he said.

"What?" Tom mumbled. He could tell he had a split lip and one or two 
loose teeth.

"You have sustained three broken ribs, a mild concussion, several mild 
bruises and contusions, and... a broken clavicle. I wish you good 
fortune!"

"Doc, shut up before I program some injuries to your mouth."

"Touché! Merely extending my best wishes. Now, can you raise your arms 
above your head? Let's get to work on those ribs."

 (c)Copyright 2000 "Liz"

E-mails with polite comments are welcome. el_kobogo@yahoo.com