New story: The Past is in the future. By: Gerina DISCLAIMER No, of course I don't think I own these people. I just borrowed them from Paramount for a while, so I could play with them, you see. I don't mean to step on anybody's toes or infringe on copyrights, honest. Please don't sue me, I'm too busy dreaming about Voyager to come to court! I'm saying this has a G rating. Now, without further ado, here's the story. THE PAST IS IN THE FUTURE All was quiet on the Delta Quadrant front for *Voyager* and her crew. To Lieutenant Tom Paris, it seemed like a fairly ordainary day. He was sitting in his usual station at the helm, and while he loved the work he was doing, there was nothing particularly challenging or spectacular about it today. Of course, today that was a good thing. It meant that he had plenty of opportunities to go over in his mind what he had planned for his date with B'Elanna Torres, *Voyager's* chief engineer and the woman to whom he had given his heart. Until a few months ago, when he and B'Elanna had been drifting in space, near death and deprived of oxygen, she hadn't expressed very much interest in his heart, which was why it was imperative that she like this date. Well, there had been that incident on Sikaris IV, but she hadn't really been at herself that day. So, while in this stretch of easy space, he was going over the checklist in his mind over and over again. Suddenly, as he was beginning his checklist for what seemed like the thousandth time that day, a flash lit the bridge, then died away, leaving behind the last person in the world Tom had expected to see. It was Rain Robinson. *************************** Rain Robinson tilted her head back, so that if she had been a little shorter it would have touched the back of the park bench on which she sat. She had long made a habit of coming to this park to watch the stars come out every evening, and she always made a wish. Before, she had often wished to see a spaceship sometime during her career, a ship that could not only go to the moon or orbit the earth but traverse the stars. Last year, she had been given reason to believe that that wish had been granted as much as it ever would be - she had, after all, helped to catch a spaceship, how, she still wasn't sure - she had even gotten a kiss into the bargain. So now she wished to see again the same man who had involved her in that plan to catch a starship. Oh, he hadn't been the only one who had worked with her in that plan, but she would never have done it for the black guy with strange ears and a backwards cap, or for the balding man with truly terrible taste in clothes. It had been Tom Paris, with his bright blue eyes and his confusing combination of knowledge and ignorance, who had somehow, without her quite knowing how or when it happened, convinced her to commit to his "mission" without even telling her what it was. And maybe, just maybe, while she wished to see him again, she would get a chance to see whatever it was that he was a part of, that could ake him so determined to follow through with his mysterious mission, the something that could teach him computer literacy but neglect to tell him that saying "groovy" went out thirty years ago. The first star appeared - well, actually, it was a planet in this case, Venus, but for her purposes it didn't matter - and she said her nightly rhyme. "Starlight, star bright, First star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, Have the wish I wish tonight." She wasn't sure about the words, but she made her wish anyway, gazing at the bright light, and, suddenly, a bright flash flickered across her vision and she was no longer in a park in Los Angeles but somewhere else altogether and, to top it all off, sitting a few feet away from her before an odd horizantal panel with colored shapes, was Tom Paris. ************************* The young woman standing on the floor of the bridge took only a second to go into action. "Tom?" she gasped, eyes wide with surprise. Paris rose on instinct, then regretted it an instant later when Rain's arms went around him in a close-pressing hug. "Did you say "hi" to Saturn for me?" she asked, withdrawing a little but not removing her arms altogether. "Ah, not yet, Rain. I haven't been to Saturn lately." "Oh." She sounded disappointed, but he thought maybe that was just his own ego running away with him. "I've missed you, Tom." Then again, maybe not. Before either of them could say anything else, Captain Janeway recovered her powers of speech, which had been wandering afar since the flash of light, and utilized them. "Mr. Paris, perhaps you would care to explain who this woman is and what she is doing on my bridge." Tom Paris cleared his throat. "As for your first question, Captain, this is Miss Robinson, who helped us in our crisis with the time ship, as I'm sure Tuvok will remember. As for your second question, I can't answer it because I don't know the answer myself." "Oh, but I can." said a voice which Paris thought was familiar but couldn't quite place, "because I am the one who brought her here." Everyone one on the bridge turned in the direction of the new voice. It was Q. "I should have known you were at the bottom of this." Janeway said, sounding disgusted. Paris could not think, to save his life, why or how Janeway should or could have known anything about it. Q must have thought the same thing that Paris had, because he cocked an eyebrow at the captain. "How, dearest Kathy, how could you possibly have had the slightest inkling of a suspicion of my deviousness? Not even you, brilliant as you are, could have - " "It doesn't matter." she interrupted him. "Just get her off my ship." "Oh, no, Kathy. Oh, no, no, no, no, no. I'm not finished yet." he snapped his fingers and disappeared. "It would appear, Captain, that for the moment we must attempt to resolve the situation ourselves." Tuvok's voice stated placidly. Janeway cocked an eyebrow at her chief of security, mimicking the expression he often directed at her. "Indeed." Turning to her helmsman, she said, "For the moment, Mr. Paris, please escort this young lady to Sickbay for a full check-up. If the doctor finds anything unusual, anything at all, I want to hear about it immediately. I also want all senior officers to report to the ready room as soon as Mr. Paris gets back from Sickbay. That means no staying for a friendly chat with our kindly-dispositioned medic, Tom." Paris turned back to Rain Robinson, who had remained silent during the entire exchange. "This way, please." he said, motioning her into the turbolift ahead of him. "Sickbay." he told the computer. Finally she spoke. "What kind of secret agent are you, anyway?" she demanded. "Who is this 'Captain?' Do you all have such bad taste in clothes?" Tom tried to alleviate her distress with a grin. "I seem to remember telling you that the answer to your first question is confidential. The answer to your second question would be Captain Kathryn Janeway, and the reason why I'm involved in this deep, dark conspiracy. The answer to your third question is, no, but we have to wear these anyway. Uniforms. They go with the territory." She shook her head. "No. You didn't wear clothes like these when I met you. If you had, I probably wouldn't have invited you to the Tuesday night meeting." Paris sighed. He just wasn't made for secrecy; he liked to get things out in the open. It was going to make following the Prime Directive even harder than usual this time. "That was an, uh, undercover outfit. Capturing errant time ships and driving ancient blue vans is not actually what I do most of the time." "Aha! So you *aren't* a spy!" "No. I'm not a spy." "Well, if you're not a spy, then...what *are* you?" she asked, looking confused. *I know the feeling.* "That's confidential." "Oh, no." she said, pointing her finger at him. "Oh, no. You played that game with me before, you and that other guy - what's his name - Tuvok. I'm not letting you fool me like that again. I want the truth this time, Tom - if that really is your name - and I want it now." "I can't tell you. It would pollute the timeline - " his breath caught as he realized what he had just said. Rain dropped her arm, which had been threatening to drive her index finger right through his chest. "What do you mean, pollute the imeline?" "Nothing." he answered, too quickly and knowing that it was probably the wrong answer but not having another one to give her, except the truth, which would not do. "Oh, my goodness. That's it, isn't it? How you knew how to clear the readings in my computer. All that about the timeship. I've been transported to the future, haven't I?" If it was hard to be in the Delta Quadrant, away from family and friends until you could find a way home, then it had to be much harder to discover that you were in another time with no idea of how to get home. After all, *Voyager* had been able to simply point toward the Alpha Quadrant. It wasn't that way with time travel. And if it had been hard for Janeway to tell her crew that they were lost in the Delta Quadrant, then Paris thought it must be harder for him to tell this frightened, confused woman that she was lost in another time with no method of getting home available - unless Q decided to cooperate, and while Tom knew that he was a cynical person at times, he didn't think he was being overly harsh in not counting on Q's kindness. Somehow, he had to tell Rain that. Tact had never been his strong suit. "Yes." He debated whether to go ahead and tell her the rest of her plight. The decision was taken out of his hands. "You - you can send me back, can't you?" He shook his head, forcing himself to meet her eyes. "No. I'm sorry, Rain. This is something Q has done; we don't know how to reverse it. We might be able to send you back in time, but I doubt that we would be able to place you on Earth. As of right now, we can't even get there ourselves." His eyes had slid was away from hers; he forced them back. "I am so sorry." His throat felt tight. It was just the nerves, he told himself. *The nerves, and what you just told this woman.* "What do you mean, you can't get there? Where are we?" "We're a long, long way from home." "Well, how long will it take us to get there?" "About sixty years. Look, anything I say to you about this is a good chance for me to get myself another court martial." He knew, if a little less than most of the rest of *Voyager's* crew, how it felt to be far from home with no knowing why or how, and no idea of when, if ever he would get home again. In some ways, he felt that he'd been living that way for most of his life. He hoped that Rain would leave the subject of homecoming without further ado, and she did, but the subject she chose to replace it could hardly have been worse. "What are you talking about, *another* court martial?" He sighed. This certainly seemed to be Miss Robinson's day for asking questions. Unfortunately, it didn't appear as though that would coincide with his day for feeling patient. When he didn't answer immediately, she demanded again, "Well? You weren't just pretending to be a bum, were you? You - " he was thankful that she did not get to finish the sentence as the turbolift halted and its doors opened. "Come on," he said. ************************ *Voyager's* senior staff was gathered in the ready room, The Doctor, Neelix, and Torres hearing for the first time about the new arrival on Voyager, while Chakotay, Tuvok, Paris, Kim, and the captain rehashed the events of the past twenty-five minutes or so. Captain Janeway briefed the three who had not been present during the event on the bridge about their current dilema, then read Tuvok's report concerning the events on Earth, a year ago to them, centuries in reality. Paris's was next, and, not surprisingly, provided more exciting reading material, despite the dry, unbending Starfleet wording. The almost hilarious constrast between the two made Torres want to laugh. It was a sore trial also, she could see, for Harry, and perhaps Chakotay as well, although if he were on the verge of hysterical laughter, B'Elanna could not see it. Harry was shaking his head even while trying not to laugh as Janeway read aloud Paris's report on how they had convinced Rain Robinson to allow them to sleep in her van. B'Elanna found herself wishing that she could have heard Tom tell the story himself, in his words, without the rigorous Starfleet requirements. Tom could tell stories well, especially funny ones, and this one - this one would have been one over which to roll in the floor. Janeway read from his report, "After listening to the story we had improvised, Miss Robinson agreed to let us spend the night in her van." The screaming understatement in those words was almost more than B'Elanna could handle. "Now, Doctor," said Janeway as she finished reading Paris's report, "what do you have for us?" "Not much, Captain." the hologram answered glumly. "Of course, if Miss Robinson had not insisted on Mr. Paris administering most of the tests, I might have more conclusive results. Mr. Paris is hardly a doctor of my caliber." Janeway held up a hand. "Wait a minute, Doctor. You're getting ahead of me. Let's back up a little, shall we? Now, why did Miss Robinson insist that Tom run her scans?" The Doctor shrugged. "She seems to share in common with the majority of our own crew a definite preference of Mr. Paris over myself. Also, she seemed most uncomfortable with the full-body scans I was obliged to run." "Not necessarily with the scans themselves, Doc." interjected Paris. "She comes from the 20th century; she's never seen a tricorder. Besides, she thought I was a spy of sorts. She might simply have wondered what kind of doctor a spy would make." "That is a doubtful conclusion, Mr. Paris." countered Tuvok's calming tones. He turned to the captain. "Miss Robinson, as I informed you, bonded with Mr. Paris in a way we were unable to anticipate. Before we left, her mannerisms and words were similar to those I have observed in humans when they begin to fall in love. It is entirely possible that she did in fact entertain such feelings for Mr. Paris, and is now considering "warming up the old soup," which is an old Earth saying, is it not?" "To be honest with you, Tuvok, I don't know a lot of old human expressions." the captain said. "However, it does sound familiar. And you could be right about Miss Robinson, given Mr. Paris's record I would not be surprised if -" "What record?" Tom exploded, to the amazement of those present. "The record that says I belong in a prison cell? The record that says I should be commanding a ship of my own? The record that says I'm a womanizer who should be thrown out an airlock? The record-" "You are out of line, Lieutenant." Janeway interrupted, cutting short his tirade as if with a knife. "This is not about your personal habits, Mr. Paris. We are attempting to study a problem *objectively*, and if you don't feel that you can do that, then consider yourself dismissed. Understood?" "Perfectly, Captain." he said, stopping his ascent from his chair halfway between standing and sitting. "Good. Now either sit down and wait until you have something to contribute, or leave. We are conducting a meeting here, and I will not allow it to become a circus." Tom sat down, looking chastened. Janeway nodded approvingly. "Now. As I was saying, Mr. Paris has a record of attracting women in unusual situations." "And for getting hurt in those same situations." The Doctor threw in, obviously feeling that it was time he added his two cents worth. All he got for his efforts was a glare from Paris. "At any rate," Janeway took up the conversation once more, "this line of thinking is highly entertaining, and may lead to a greater understanding of Miss Robinson and our own culture at that point in time, but I hardly see how it will help us to return her to her own place in time and space." Paris gave her a look so ridiculously grateful that Torres, who intercepted it, found herself on the verge of laughter once more. *It probably also means that he really does know something about her having a crush on him, though,* she thought. She would have to watch that woman - if she was around long enough to be a consideration. There was always the chance that Q would reappear and whisk her away again, of course. Personally, Torres hoped for the latter option. She had enough to worry about with the Delaney girls. you're sounding jealous, she scolded herself. *Of course I'm jealous*, she admitted in the privacy of her own mind. *I have every right to be.* She would certainly never say that aloud. It would just swell Tom's head and embarrass her. Still, he bears watching.* The captain was speaking again. "I want you to talk to Miss Robinson, Tom. Maybe she remembers something and just doesn't remember that she remembers it. From everything I've heard, she should be more comfortable with you than with anyone else in the crew. She already knows you, and, as Mr. Tuvok said, seems to have bonded with you quite well - especially from what we saw on the bridge." Tom could hardly snap the captain's head off, but he looked as if he wanted to rather badly. The implications of what Janeway had just said suddenly hit Torres. "What do you mean? What happened on the bridge that you aren't telling me?" "Miss Robinson displayed signs of affection for Mr. Paris." said Tuvok evenly. Harry and Chakotay seemd to be having some difficulty in not choking on their own breaths. B'Elanna felt her eyes narrow, but couldn't help it. "What signs of affection?" she asked, nearly growling. "I believe that the appropriate description is to say that she gave him a 'hug.'" the Vulcan answered. "However, it is also possible that she was merely seeking reassurance." "Oh, sure." Torres answered sarcastically, but she felt as though her insides were turning into water, forming a burning, freezing center of pain in her middle. Tuvok's latter words were hardly given a thought, discarded as ridiculous. It was all she could do to hold herself together. The method her mother had taught her to deal with this new terror was to throw something. The method that came to mind was Tom's remedy for almost every pain she had, and that was for her to hang onto him for dear life until the worst of it was gone. That avenue was closed, and, not being fully Klingon, she didn't think she had the energy for so much throwing, as her body felt leaden. Her own personal remedy for everything, although she hadn't had to use it since that day nearly three months ago when she had finally had the courage to tell Tom she loved him, albeit near death in the middle of empty space, was to bury herself so deeply in her engineering problems that she didn't have to think. There was one other thing she could do, and she had been taught all her life that it was unacceptable. It was crying. Even as the thought came to her mind, B'Elanna felt tears forming in her eyes. She forced them back ferociously, reaching for the familiar anger - and coming up empty. Where had it all gone? she wondered as she did her best to come up with something else to sustain her. But nothing came to mind. The only thing she could do was concentrate on the job at hand and go on, hoping that the anger she had relied on for so long would come back soon. Somehow, she managed to stay long enough to get her assignemnt, which was to start trying to find a way to initiate a journey of almost four hundred years in time and sixty thousand light-years in distance. Then she headed to engineering, intending never to think of Tom Paris again. ******************** Captain Janeway had assigned temporary quarters to her new passenger, and assigned her helmsman to escort her there, and to stick to her side like a burr for as long as he could invent a reasonable reason for doing so. "Teaching her the tongue-twister 'reasonable reason' might be reason enough, Captain." he had said as he left to do her bidding, grinning jauntily. She had also ordered Tuvok to post a security detail outside Miss Robinson's new - and hopefully very temporary - quarters, and given the bridge to Chakotay. And now it was time for her to worry about her chief engineer. Technically, she supposed, she should be focusing on the problem with which Q had presented them, just like any member of her crew. But she had seen B'Elanna's eyes fill with tears at the mention of Rain Robinson's rather obvious affection for Tom, and so, while B'Elanna Torres worried about the effects of an obnoxious omniscient, Janeway was going to devote her time and energy to worrying about B'Elanna. I wish I hadn't had to send Tom to be with Rain, she thought. The last thing B'Elanna needs is to hear is that her dearest was going to be relatively alone with another woman, one who has shown affection for him, especially. But she had, and so now she also had to worry. There had to be some way she could help. She just knew that there had to be. With a sudden flash of inspiration, the captain fairly catapulted from the chair behing her desk and headed down toward the quarters assigned to Miss Robinson. *They won't be alone together so much after all.* Besides, surely it would be best for everyone if the young woman developed the same openess with the captain that she had with Paris - well, maybe not the *same* openess, but openess, nonetheless. *Better for everyone.* ***********************8 Tom Paris was sitting, quite comfortable in body, quite quite harrowed in spirit, on the couch in Rain Robinson's temporary quarters. He had been trying for the past half hour to get information from her, but he was swiftly coming to the conclusion that she had spoken not only what she saw as the truth, but the genuine article. Not only that, but he was quickly running out of reasons to stay without telling her Janeway's purpose in sending him here and therefore making it seem as though she were being accused of lying. He made up first one excuse and then another to stay for a little while longer. He was worried that she might take his continued attempts to remain in her quarters as indicative of an interest in her of a type that he just didn't have, especially not since B'Elanna. He feared for *Voyager's* official relationship with Rain if he didn't stay in her quarters. He feared for his personal relationship with B'Elanna if he did stay in Rain's quarters. B'Elanna's face had seldom been turned toward him during the briefing in the conference room, but he had definitely heard her voice as she demanded explanations about his encounter with Rain on the bridge, and he could tell that her thoughts were headed in a direction unfavorable for everyone. He wanted to be out of here, so that he could go and reassure B'Elanna, and make sure that she knew that he reserved a very special kind of love just for her. A kind of love he didn't give to anyone else, not to the Delaney sisters, not to Susan Nicoletti, not to Rain Robinson, but to *her,* his B'Elanna. He was worried, by what he had heard in the conference room, that she might not be quite as sure of that as she needed to be, as he wanted her to be. It was important that she know how much he loved her - just her, not anybody else. His worry must have shown, for after giving him a *very* patient look - a look that reminded him of the look Harry gave him whenever he thought his best friend was going to do something really stupid - she said, "Tom, what are you *really* doing here?" in a tone that said, "All right, Tom. You've played long enough. Now let's get down to business." "Wh-what are you talking about?" he asked intelligently. "I mean I know you aren't here just to make sure there hasn't been any dust left under the couch -" that had been his latest, feeblest excuse "- so why don't you just go ahead and tell me the real reason why you're here." "Rain, I - it's confidential." Paris knew the excuse sounded foolish. He had repeated it so often, it seemed, but he didn't know what else to tell her. He sighed. It would be nice to be able to simply unburden himself of all these worries, just for a little while. Maybe, after it was all over, he could get away from everything and everyone for a few hours, even from B'Elanna, and spill out all his worries to the attentive hologram of Sandrine. He missed the real thing; Sandrine had been there for him long after everyone else had disappeared, had been there for him all the time, ever since he had walked into her bar one night while exploring the darker side of France. She had known, somehow, that despite all the time he had spent in bars since he had first been able to sneak into one at the age of seventeen, he had never quite been able to blend. That had been when he had known that he did not meld with them. Now he thought that he did, and was puzzled that his hologram of Sandrine still laughed and said, "You are better than you know, mon Thomas."He thought that he had programmed her in accord with the way his life had turned after his court martial, but evidently old traits die hard. He probably ought to re-work that part of the program, but, after all, out here, far from the real Sandrine, it wasn't that big a deal, and it was very soothing. Yes, a trip to Sandrine's would be just about right. Rain's voice broke into his thoughts. "Why can't you just trust me? Haven't I shown you that I can keep your secrets? Tom, I helped you when you asked me to, without requiring any explanations, even though your story did sound more than a little weird. Why can't you tell me anything, even when my own life is in the middle?" the young woman asked. She was getting upset. *Time to forget diplomacy and be real,* he thought. "Rain," he said, kneeling on the floor in front of her while she sat on the couch, "I *do* trust you, but you have to understand something." He took her hands in his. "You asked me about my mission back in Los Angeles. I can tell you what my mission is. My mission is to uphold and defend a standard of conduct that ensures safety and freedom for good, honest people - like you, for instance. Now, there is a set of precedents and rules, to help us decide how best to accomplish our mission in a given situation. This is a new situation to us, and until we have decided on a course of action, we can't do anything. So while we trust you, we can't give away any information yet. So," he ended, taking the bull by its horns, "I guess the question is - do you trust us?" Rain shook her head as if trying to clear it. "I don't know this code of yours, and I don't know this captain, but I do know you, Tom, and, for a while at least, I think I can give a loan of trust to this whole conspiracy - *if* you can find me something to eat. I'm starved." Paris laughed. "That's the least of your worries," he told her. "That's what I'm afraid of," she answered. "You may have reason to be afraid when you see what you're going to eat. I'll go and get it and bring it -" the door beeped. "What was that?" Rain demanded, looking frightened again. "The doorbell," he told her reassuringly. "Shall I get it for you?" "Please," she nodded wearily. Paris went over to the lcokpad near the door and keyed it open. "Who - oh, Captain Janeway!" "I'm here to see Miss Robinson," the captain said without preamble. "Certainly. I'll - ah - tell her you're here." He turned back to the young woman from the past. "Rain, the captain's here to see you." He leaned in close to speak for her ears alone. "Maybe now she'll be able to give you some answers. At the very least, it can't hurt to speak to her." "It's her ship," Rain replied in the same low tone of voice. "She won't force you to talk to her if you give her a flat refusal. Of course, she might throw you in the brig" "I think I'll talk." "Good girl." Rain Robinson turned to her host. "Captain Janeway. How...nice...of you to come. Ah, won't you sit down?" she said, gesturing rather helplessly to a chair. "Thank you," Janeway said, taking the offer. "I was wondering if you were feeling any ill effects from your . . . experience?" "No. No, at the moment I feel fine, physically. Of course I'm a bit concerned. Tom - I mean Mr. Paris - won't say much, except that I'm not where I'm supposed to be, and that the news on sending me back is not good." Janeway shot Paris a warning look before replying to her guest's inquiry. "I'm afraid we don't really even have enough information to make a good guess at this point, Miss Robinson. I was hoping you might be able to help us with that." Paris winced inwardly at his captain's poor choice of words. He was not surprised when Rain bounded to her feet and said, "I've already *told* you, I don't remember anything! Why don't you believe me?! Why would I lie to you?!" "Miss Robinson," Janeway said, obviously trying to make amends, "I truly believe that you are telling the truth. However, there may be something that you *don't* remember that would help us to send you home. We need your cooperation to see if perhaps there is a memory you can recover - even if it's only a small thing - that might be able useful. Toward that end, I want you to answer some questions. All right?" She nodded slowly. "All right." Janeway smiled at her. "What were you doing directly before you showed up on my bridge?" The astronomer frowned. "The bridge?" "The place where you were when we first saw each other." "Ah. I was sitting on a bench in a park." "Do you remember the name of the park?" "No. It was just a park." "And were you doing anything besides sitting on that bench? Was there someone with you? Were you talking?" "No, no, and no. Wait, yes." "Yes, you were talking, but no, you weren't doing anything and there was no one with you?" the captain asked, looking perplexed. "No, I mean, yes, I was doing something besides sitting, but no, there was no one with me and no, I wasn't talking. Wait, yes, I was talking." "To yourself?" "No - I was wishing on a star, but I said the rhyme aloud." "Ah. And can you tell me what you were wishing for?" "It's supposed to be bad luck, Captain - but I've already got it, so I suppose it wouldn't hurt." "So what was it?" "It was that - " the young woman flushed and ran her words together " - that I would see Tom again." "What?!!" Janeway and Paris demanded in unison, both lurching forward from their seats before they could restrain themselves. "Well, I'd never seen a real, live secret agent before," Rain said defensively, blushing furiously. She rounded on Tom. "And that's what you said you were. I believed you. I trusted you!" She sounded distinctly indignant. "I *was* a secret agent," he told her. "It just wasn't permanent employment." "I thought you liked me!" she wailed as if he had never spoken. "I guess that was a lie too, huh? I'll bet you thought I was stupid. Well, I think you're stupid too, Tom Paris. You're a bum, just like I said before! I wouldn't wish to see you again if my life depended upon it! Do you hear me?" "I suspect that people in other galaxies can hear you, considering the sheer enormity of sound you're emitting," he told her dryly. It was the best he could do. The words Rain had spoken in the heat of the moment smarted more - much more - than he would have liked to admit. At any rate, the crack had the desired result; Rain sat once more - she had risen when she had begun yelling - and looked at him dumbly. "Just calm down, Rain," he said, when he knew he had her attention. "We are doing everything we can to get you home as safely and quickly as we can. Unfortuantely, we did not bring you here, and we are unsure about how to send you back. Are you sure that you have told us everything you can remember?" "Yes. I said so, didn't I?" "Yes, you did." "Well, I for one believe in honesty and speaking the truth." "As do I, Rain. I have told you nothing that is not the exact truth - except, perhaps, that Tuvok was sensitive about his ears. Tuvok is actually a very...*sedate*...guy." He could hear Janeway snorting with amusement, and hoped that she had the good sense to keep her mouth shut *just for once.* Hardly a thought to have about one's captain, but the lieutenant could *feel* Rain calming down, opening up to them, or to him, at least. She might not be ready for Captain Janeway yet, but after she got past any bad feelings she had toward Tom himself, she would probably be able to see that the captain was only trying to do the right thing for everyone. *I certainly hope so,* he thought. *I'd hate to think that I went through all this for nothing.* "Yeah, that guy seemed pretty calm back in L.A. I've never yet seen him smile, or cry, or frown, so like I said before, he's a real freakasaurus." "I think a lot of people would agree with you, but Tuvok would most likely feel that you were the strange one." "Hey - is he an alien? I mean, a real, live alien?" "He's certainly not a dead alien," Tom responded. *And if the captain wants to say that's breaking the Prime Directive, then I'll just face the music back home. What did Starfleet want us to say, anyway? "No, he's a human with bad ears and no sense of humor?" I'd hate to try explaining Neelix as a human!* The pilot was feeling rather grouchy about the whole darn Prime Directive issue at this point, and more than willing to mentally keel-haul Starfleet command. "You're being evasive again, Tom," Rain said, narrowing her eyes. "Isn't that better than lying outright?" he asked, looking her directly in the eyes. "I suppose so," she admitted, dropping her gaze. "I just wish - I wish you could tell me what's going on." "So do I. I wish I knew." "So let me get this straight," she said, including Captain Janeway in the conversation once more with her eyes, and cutting to the chase as seemed to be her habit, "as of right now, I'm in the wrong place at the wrong time. Am I right so far?" "Right," Janeway confirmed. "And, as of right now, you neither have any method nor knowledge of a way to put me back where and when I belong." "Right," Janeway said again. "So I say we go get something to eat before we all starve to death and cause ourselves another problem." "I have a better idea," said Paris, standing. "I'll go down to the mess hall and get us all something to eat and bring it back here. If it doesn't wiggle, that is." "Wiggle?" Rain asked in evident trepidation, drawing back a little and looking rather ill. "Wh - what is it, sushi?" Paris grinned at her. "That's the best guess I've heard all day." The comment at least earned a chuckle from Janeway, though Rain of course could not know what in the blue blazes he meant. She'd see it for herself soon enough. ************************ The hoarse-voiced woman called Captain Janeway excused herself soon after Tom left to get their lunch, leaving one of those peculiar badges behind after showing her how to use it to communicate with someone outside hearing range. She suspected that it had something to do with the mention of wiggling that had been brought up earlier, but that was only because she looked a little paler after the conversation about it, and because Rain felt like she would like to escape it herself. If she were captain, she'd probably leave them with it, too, and go somewhere where she could be sick in private. Maybe Tom was just teasing, but you never knew, and it was always better to be safe than sorry. So Rain wished she could get away too, only she still wanted to talk to Tom for the same reasons that had driven her to make her wish in the park, and lunch seemed as good an idea for that as any. She did hope that he had been teasing about the wiggling. She had never experienced a burning desire to eat live food in L.A., but who could tell what things might be considered normal in this time and place. Just look at their taste in clothes. Even Tom was wearing that truly hideous...*thing*....now. She sighed. He had looked so good in jeans and that out-moded shirt, but uniforms were another thing altogether. *No one* looked good in those, that was one thing she *knew* to be an absolute indisputable fact. The door slid open without warning to reveal Tom Paris once more. He was carring a large tray of food, with three glasses and three plates, and the corresponding number of utensils. He glanced around, looked puzzled, and began to open his mouth, but Rain forestalled him. "The captain left," she told him. "Did she say why?" he asked, frowning. "No, but maybe it had something to do with the idea of a wiggling lunch. She didn't look so good after she heard about that." "Maybe," he responded, "but it seems we hit it lucky today. All's quiet on the culinary front - in other words, nothing's moving, so dig in and enjoy it while you can." Rain shook her head. He was nuts. Talking about B movies, using words like "groovy" - how did that survive the time change, anyway? It was long gone in 1996 - and now suggesting that she enjoy the food simply because it didn't wiggle. "How does it taste?" "I don't know," he admitted. "I haven't tried it. But as long as it doesn't contain leola root, maybe it'll be okay." Rain started to ask what leola root was, then realized that she might not want to know. "Right," she said finally. "Give me a plate." Not very many minutes later, Rain was feeling seriously sick. To his credit, Tom was obviously doing his best to keep her mind off the food with light-hearted banter and chit-chat, discussing movies that were current on Earth during what she still considered her present, but which was most assuredly his past. Finally she interrupted his stream of chatter about the movie *Titanic.* "How do you know about this?" "About the cost of the movie? I read about it somewhere." "How do you know anything about the movie in the first place? How do you know anything about any of the movies I've watched, period? The *Titanic* stopped showing weeks ago by *my* time! You shouldn't even know that it ever existed - well, maybe the ship, but not the movie - and you certainly shouldn't be able to rattle off the names of the cast like they were old friends!" "True," Tom admitted. "But I'm somewhat obsessed with 20th century American history. I have been for most of my life. I just thought that talking about something familiar would be helpful to you, calming. If you want me to shut up, all you have to do is say so." "No, no, it's okay," Rain managed. She wasn't sure what she had expected - another instance of time travel, perhaps, something, anything, that would tell her she had a way to get back home, even though it was wishful thinking - but whatever it was, it had not been a simple love for history, and the ludicrousness of yelling at him for enjoying an interest in things of another time and the heart-wrenching disappointment she felt at learning that it was nothing which could possibly carry her back home left her somewhere between rolling with laughter and collapsing in tears, making her limp as a wet rag. "Are you all right?" Tom asked, looking concerned. "Rain?" "I'm fine," she said with a sigh. "But if you don't mind, I'd really appreciate a little peace and quiet in private right now." "Of course," he said. "Just call me if you need anything," he added, pointing to the badge Captain Janeway had left pinned to her chest. "I will," she promised. Tom nodded his acknowledgement as he vanished through the doors that closed behind his retreating back like water flowing back together after a knife has gone t hrough it, only more slowly. ************************* B'Elanna Torres sat one the couch in her quarters, curled into a ball, legs tucked against her chest and arms wrapped around them, trying to make the pain leave, as if by pressing her knees more tightly against her heart she could fill the emptiness left there. She heard a noise indicative of a visitor requesting entrance outside her door, but she made no answer. She didn't feel like talking to anyone just then. The door dutifully sounded three times, and then whooshed open, even though it had been locked. Torres sprang up, ready to beat someone's brains out, only to find herself catapulting - and being trapped - in the arms of Tom Paris. "What are you doing here?" she demanded angrily. It was bad enough that he had broken her heart, but he had no business to come here and try rubbing it in, none whatsoever. "I was about to ask you the same thing," he murmured into her hair. Then he held her back a little, looking at her worriedly. "It isn't like you to come running to your quarters as soon as your shift is over when there is a problem at hand. As a matter of fact, it isn't like you to come *running* to your quarters at all. Carey said you took off like a bolt of lightning, so fast he could barely see you, didn't even wait to tell him to take over in engineering. B'Elanna, you *never* leave without threatening him at least once that he'd better not let anything happen to your engines, *or else*. What's got you so upset?" "Nothing," Torres announced, angry. "Why do I need a reason to come to my quarters after my shift is over? And why do I have to answer to you about anything? You may have *some* women under your thumb for a few pretty words, but I assure you, that is *not* my way." "I know it isn't, B'Elanna. You don't have to answer to me for anything. I know you're independent. That's one of the reasons I love you so much - your free, independent spirit. I was just worried about you, that's all." His voice was calm, soothing B'Elanna's fraying nerves even though she had determined never to fall under the spell of his kind, gentle voice again. But as his hands began to rub up and down her arms in the manner that mothers sometimes use with troubled children - although goodness knew, her own mother had never tried to soothe her - she found her anger fading away, to be replaced with a sense of loss. "Don't say you love me, Tom," she said, as gently as she could. "Don't say it when you don't mean it. That isn't fair to either of us." "Don't say I love you?" he asked, looking shocked. "Don't say it when I don't mean it? B'Elanna, my darling, whatever made you think that I didn't mean it?" "Tom, don't play games with me. I'm not a fool. I heard what Tuvok said in the briefing. She hugged you! That - that -" B'Elanna struggled for words bad enough to express her feelings for Rain Robinson at that moment, but Tom interrupted her before she could find them. "B'Elanna, firstly, did you hear what Tuvok also said? He said she might just have been seeking reassurance, and I think that's entirely possible. I'm sure it must be very frightening to be in a familiar setting one moment, and in a totally foreign environment the next. Secondly, I am not now, nor have I ever been, responsible for the conduct of anyone besides myself outside a command setting. How Miss Robinson chooses to deport and conduct herself is certainly and completely outside the realm of my control." "Then - then you aren't in love with her? You didn't get involved with her on Earth while my back was turned?" B'Elanna felt bewildered. "To answer your first question, no, I am not in love with her. To answer your second question, no, I was not involved with her in the sense you mean during my stay on Earth. And even if I had been, B'Elanna, that was before you would ever have considered being more than just a friend to me, even a good one. As a matter of fact," he said, cocking his head to one side, "I don't remember you being terribly fond of me in any way at that point." She blushed, remembering how she had once treated the man who had saved her life so many times. "I know," she murmured into his shoulder, her fears dissolving as she realized that he truly did love her. If anything, the only emotion she felt now was irritation that she had gone through so much pain for nothing - except the very strong emotion of love, that is. "I'm sorry, Tom. I treated you awfully then, and I did it again, just a minute ago. Why do you put up with me?" She felt as well as heard him chuckle as he hugged her tightly. "Aside from the fact that I love you, honey, I doubt that I would live long enough to put up with anyone ever again if I didn't put up with you. Do or die, you know." "Oh, shut up, Tom," she replied pleasantly, giving him a quick squeeze to show she didn't mean it hurtfully before stepping away from him. ********************** Rain Robinson sat dejectedly on her couch, staring at nothing. Had she not been so tired, she might have wept, but not now. Now, she didn't have the energy. It had been more than enough excitement for one evening - except that here it seemed to be shortly after lunch time - and she was dead tired. Her meeting with Tom hadn't gone as well as she might have wished. *And that,* she thought, *is the understatement of the year. With the way my luck has been running today, he probably has a girlfriend. Not that it would matter to me, of course. All I really want right now is to go home, Tom Paris or no Tom Paris, secret agent or no secret agent.* It was true that she was not exactly in love with the strange man from the future who had appeared in her workroom in Los Angeles over a year ago; he was nice, but she hadn't *really* fallen for him. *And I intend to be long gone from here before there is any chance of that.* Besides, seeing him in his natural setting was different. It was easy to romantisize about a dashing, daring spy rushing around trying to save Earth; it was quite another to see that person living and working like an ordinary, everyday person, even on a routine unlike any she had ever considered as being realistic before today. This was the sort of thing that SciFi shows were made of, not real life! On the other hand, she thought it was even more improbable that a science fiction show had come to life. Ergo, she must really be out in space on a wandering starship, with no way of getting home. Suddenly, a flash appeared, and she had a split second of recognition before the strange man who had apparently sent her here to this place stood before her, large as life. What had Tom called him? K? No, Q. Yeah, that was it, Q. What an odd name. "Surprised to see me, my dear Rain?" he queried, looking, to her, more than a little obnoxious. "Who are you and what do you want?" she spat, not having the ability or desire to remain patient with such rampant disregard for others. "I, my dear, am Q." *Some answer.* "What do you want from me?" "Actually, young lady, I've already got it. You have finally allayed the fears, for a time at least, of two of the most stubborn mortals I know." "And who would that be?" Rain asked, narrowing her eyes in grave suspicion. "I believe you already know one of them - Tom Paris." "Tom? What does he have to do with this?" "I'm getting to that. But first, it is necessary for you to understand that he is madly in love with a young woman by the name of B'Elanna Torres." "And?" she asked, ignoring the little sinking feeling in her stomach. She should have known Tom would have someone special already, even if he might not be quite as unusual and exciting in this time period as he had seemed back on Earth. "And B'Elanna has had doubts about his faithfullness, while Tom doubted her belief in him - righteously so, as I have just illustrated." "What does any of this have to do with me?" "You have just become the catalyst for them to face these feelings of doubt and fear and resolve them, bringing them closer than ever. That is why I brought you here - that, and your wish of course. I think an old human expression says it quite well - you mortals, by the way, really are quite good at expressing yourselves when the need arises - 'killing two birds with one stone.' You got your wish, they resolved their problems, I had fun, and everyone is happy. I just love happy endings." he said, sounding frivolous. "And now, Miss Robinson, it is time for you to go home." He raised his fingers in the air, ready to snap them as she now remembered seeing him do before, had she only been looking, but she stopped him. "Wait. Let me say good-bye to Tom first." "With a kiss, as you did on Earth? I just finished telling you, he's *involved.*" "I know he has a girlfriend! There is another old expression you should have remembered: 'get your mind out of the gutter.' I just want to say good-bye to a friend I may never see again." "I was planning to wipe your mind of the entire experience. Fairly standard procedure for transporting mortals through time - it prevents pollution of the timeline." *Not that again.* "Nevermind," she said aloud. "I have to say good-bye to Tom, whether I remember it or not." "Oh, very well," Q said with a theatrical sigh. He snapped his fingers. Light flared, and then, suddenly, Rain was staring at a couple on a couch, one of whom was a dark woman with a strange forehead and the other...the other was Tom Paris. "Tom, I -" Rain began. Then she had to stop and swallow. "He says I can go now," she finished lamely, eyes on the floor. The woman stared at Rain and her super-human companion in what appeared to be shock. Tom didn't even blink. *Does anything phase him?* She was sure that something would - she didn't know what, but something surely would. *Nobody's perfect. Not even handsome men from the future*, she reminded herself. Not knowing what else to say, Rain looked at Tom's friend and said, "Y - you must be B'Elanna Torres." "Yes, but who are you?" the woman demanded in tones of inexplicable anger. Rain earnestly hoped that that anger was not directed at her person, because if it was, she had questions about surviving long enough to even think about getting home, much less anything else. Torres's glare could have dropped a horse at fifty paces. "I'm Rain," she said stupidly, then, remembering that this woman probably wanted more specifics, she added, "Rain Robinson." Without thinking, she explained, "Tom knows me," with a vague gesture in the general direction of her friend. "Oh, yes," B'Elanna said, turning to Tom. "This is the woman who caused all this trouble?" Her words were accusatory, but her tone now suggested that she was as happy now as she had been angry earlier, if not more so. "On the contrary," said Q, stepping into the conversation with all the ease and grace of a buffalo in its wallow, "she has just helped you to deal with one of the biggest obstacles in your relationship - insecurity. I *hope* - " and here his tone took on a somewhat injured air " - that you appreciate my role in this process." Tom and B'Elanna were too absorbed in staring into each other's eyes to answer him. "And now," Q said forcefully, raising his voice, "Miss Robinson is about to return to Earth. She wanted to say good-bye to you before she left, Tommy. Surely you are aware of the honor?" "Yes, yes," Tom answered him in a rather agitated voice. Then, turning to Rain, he said, "I'm going to miss you, you know." "I'll miss you too, Tom," she choked, and threw her arms around him, glad that she had had this chance, even if she wouldn't remember it. Rain wasn't sure, after the way she had thrown herself at him when she first came here, that he would not shove her away from him. She was pleasantly surprised when Tom returned the hug enthusiastically. "Hey, Rain?" "Yeah?" Her words were swallowed up into the fabric of his shirt, even though the hug wasn't an unnecessarily close one - just an abnormally fierce one. "Someday, I'm going to make it back home. And when I do, I'm going to say 'hi' to Saturn for you." "You do that, Tom. You do that." "Hey, Rain?" "Yeah?" "Will you say 'hi' to Earth for me?" "Absolutely." "My dear Miss Robinson, it's time for you to go." came Q's voice, interrupting their moment of sentimentality. Rain pulled away from the hug. "He's right. The sooner I get back, the sooner I can say 'hi' to Earth for you, you know?" She squinted up at Paris, vision blurring. "Good-bye, Rain." "Good-bye, Tom." She turned to his - what? girlfriend? - and said, "Good-bye, B'Elanna. My best to both of you," she added, including Tom in the conversation once more. "Thanks," the other woman said, "for all of it. And I don't understand all this talk about Saturn...but I hope you're able to see it for yourself someday." Rain nodded, smiling even though a few of her tears were beginning to fall. She stepped back beside Q, made eye contact with Tom one more time, and waved to them as she was whisked back to 20th century Los Angeles, California. ************************* Several minutes later, *Voyager's* senior officers were gathered in the briefing room as Tom and B'Elanna related the events immediately preceeding Rain Robinson's exit from the ship. "Well, at least it would seem to be out of our hands," Janeway said as they finished their tale. "There isn't a lot we can do now, and I, for one, am glad I don't have to worry about it. Time warps always did give me a headache, no matter who engineered them. Maybe life can be normal for a while. I do wonder though," she mused, "if Miss Robinson will remember the experience she had here. When Q#2 was requesting asylum from the continuum, and the first Q was presenting evidence to prevent us from taking him, he brought people from the past here, people who had been influenced by the Q who was seeking asylum, Q was able to wipe their memories of their brief trip to *Voyager.* I can't help but wonder if he did the same here." "We may never know," Chakotay replied. "Besides, I don't know that we'd want to know. It might be another headache." "Well, we wouldn't want that, now, would we?" Janeway agreed with a smile. "I have reports to go over, people. Dismissed." "I wonder if Q is turning over a new leaf," B'Elanna wondered aloud, leaning her head on Tom's shoulder as they were now alone in the turbolift together. If felt *good* just to think the word 'together.' It took on a thousand sweet meanings when it meant being with someone you loved. "You mean trying to help us out in our relationship?" Paris asked, giving a her a quick squeeze before stepping away a little, and consequently into a more decorous position. "I don't really know. Maybe the Q-child has mellowed him out a little. "What I wonder is whether Rain really does remember anything from being here." B'Elanna shook her head. "Chakotay was right, Tom. We may never know." "Yeah, I guess so," he said with a sigh. "I hope she'll be happy." "What about us?" she asked with a grin. "B'Elanna, I *know* that *we* will be happy. I couldn't be anything else, with you. And I'm going to do my very best to make sure you share my joy." B'Elanna sighed happily and leaned back against the wall of the turbolift. *Yes,* she thought, *we'll be* _ very_ happy.* *********************** In a park in Los Ageles, California, in the year 1997, Rain Robinson gazed at the first star of the evening. "Starlight, starbright, First star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, Have the wish I wish tonight." Staring into the night sky, she made her wish. Nothing happened. With a sigh, she headed back to her house. She'd never see Tom Paris again, of course, and wishing on a star was silly, but she knew that she would make the same wish the next night, and the next, just in case. It never hurt to ask. Please tell me what you think. CmdGerina@aol.com