Disclaimer: All characters and the universe herein belong to 
Paramount. I'm just borrowing them because they're too wonderful 
for me to leave alone. This story and whatever made-up names I 
came up with, however, are mine. But of course, "Little Bee" is 
borrowed from the wonderful novelization of "Day of Honor" by 
Michael Jan Friedman. I hope I'm not forgetting anything else.
(c) 1997.

I'm not exactly sure when this should take place, but I guess 
somewhere after "The Gift" and before "Day of Honor" even though 
I don't know if Christmas would fall there. Oh well ...

In case you're wondering, no, I haven't written anything before. 
This is my first attempt at fanfiction that I've decided to make 
public. I'd appreciate any comments you have: whether you loved 
it, hated it, or are impartial to it, I want to know!

**************************************

 ~Twas the Night Before Christmas~
      by Barbara J. Chin
      dsnyaladdn@aol.com


"Daddy! Mama!"

Five-year old B'Elanna Torres tore happily through the living 
room of her and her parents' cozy house, swerving carefully to 
avoid hitting the delicate glass sculpture her father so adored. 
She stopped short before a pile of colorfully wrapped presents, 
neatly stacked under a simple yet elegant Christmas tree. She 
turned excitedly to her parents who followed her in, arms 
comfortably around each other.

"Merry Christmas, B'Elanna." Her mother's voice came out husky 
despite her thin but athletic Klingon frame. The smile dancing on 
her face was a rare delight for B'Elanna to see, and it filled 
her with joy, as it always did at this time of year.

The young girl grabbed a present with her name on it, and climbed 
into the lap of her father who had taken a seat on the large sofa 
situated beside the tree. "Can I open this one, Daddy?"

His handsome human features smiled wider. "Of course, Little Bee. 
It has your name on it."

Without waiting a second more, B'Elanna tore through the 
wrapping, and uncovered a simple white box. "Wow!" she cried 
joyfully as she pulled out a child-sized PADD.

"Look at that, Little Bee!" exclaimed her father, looking over 
her shoulder. "Your very first data PADD! Now you can be just 
like me!"

"I can pretend to be in Starfleet!" cheered the girl. Then 
suddenly remembering her mother's dislike of that particular 
game, B'Elanna glanced up. Her mother's smile had disappeared was 
shaking her head at her husband disapprovingly.

Uh-oh, Daddy and Mama are going to start fighting again, she 
thought to herself. They'd been doing that a lot lately. Never 
fighting enough to the point where they'd start yelling, but 
definitely there was some disagreeing. A lot of it being about 
her future. Daddy wanted her to join Starfleet, just like him and 
nearly everyone else on his side of the family. But Mama didn't 
like that idea. She kept saying Starfleet was no place for any 
one with Klingon blood, much less any child of hers. Mama wanted 
her to be like her side of the family, too: a Klingon warrior. To 
be perfectly honest, B'Elanna didn't totally like the idea of 
being a Klingon warrior. She found the ways of her people to be 
rather harsh at times, or at least, as it was described by her 
mother. And she had *fun* playing Starfleet games with Daddy.

But luckily, they decided not to choose this time to debate this 
unending topic, but B'Elanna could tell they weren't as happy as 
they were a minute ago. Thinking quickly, she got up to the pile 
of presents and carefully picked out two boxes, one of each 
belonging to her mother and father. "Here Mama, Daddy. Open one 
of yours." She took a step back after handing them their gifts, 
hoping -- pleading silently -- that it would be enough to keep 
them from arguing.

Her father's eyes lighted up. "Aww! Isn't that sweet?" he asked 
his wife, who had also received a similar gift. He reached in the 
box and pulled out a plaster cast of B'Elanna's tiny forehead. 
The ridges were not nearly as defined as her mother's, simply 
because she only had half of her mother's genetic make-up, but 
the crest and valleys imprinted there were unmistakably Klingon.

B'Elanna moved to point to the bottom of right-hand corner of 
both pieces, proudly indicating a set of engravements. "See? That 
took me a long time to get it right. The toothpicks kept 
breaking."

Her father squinted closer at the small letters and made out, "To 
Daddy: Merry Christmas. Love, B'Elanna." He looked up at his 
daughter, ruffled her chin-length brown hair, and kissed her on 
the cheek. "Thank you, B'Elanna. It's beautiful."

"It's a fine example of the ridges of an honorable Klingon 
warrior," she smiled.

B'Elanna kept her grin pasted on her face, but groaned inwardly. 
She wished Mama wouldn't talk about honor and being honorable all 
the time. I sounded so ridiculous to her, though she would never 
dare say that to her mother. She'd learned that lesson the hard 
way, and ended up receiving a screaming lecture which B'Elanna 
had no intention of reliving.

"Go on, hon." Her father patted her on the back. "Open the rest 
of your presents."

Without needing to be told twice, B'Elanna tackled the remainder 
of the small pile of presents, opening them methodically, but 
with as much eagerness as any other five-year old. To her 
delight, she received a model building set of an ancient 1965 
Mustang and several articles of new clothing.

When she'd opened the last present, B'Elanna stared up at her 
parents with wide, innocent eyes. "Is it true kids used to 
believe in a jolly old man who brought them presents the night 
before Christmas?"

"Now where did you hear that?" her mother asked, a little 
surprised.

"This third-grade boy at school said so."

Her father nodded. "I see."

"Well?" B'Elanna prodded. "Is it?"

"Is it what, honey?"

"Is it true?"

An expression of wonder and amusement crossed his face as he 
marveled at his daughter's innocence. If only children could 
preserve that integrity for life, he thought. "Yes, it is. A long 
time ago."

"Why would anyone believe a silly thing like that?"

"It was a tradition that went on for a long time. Parents told it 
to their kids to make them behave throughout the year, and if 
they were good, the jolly old man named Santa Claus would reward 
them with a special present from the North Pole."

"Oh." B'Elanna nodded, trying to absorb this piece of 
unbelievable history. "I think I would like it better that you 
and Mama and Gramma gave me my presents, and not some man I don't 
know climbing down my chimney."

Her mother scoffed. "An ancient ridiculous human tradition. 
Klingons never had such ludicrous beliefs." Despite her 
disdainful statement, she pulled B'Elanna into her lap.

B'Elanna's father chuckled. "Well, you're lucky, Little Bee." He 
pointed to the holographic fireplace in front of him. "We don't 
have a chimney for anyone to climb down."

Laughing, she hugged both her parents tightly. "I love 
Christmas."

<<<<<<<<<==-- Twenty-or-so years later  ---==>>>>>>>>>>>

"I hate Christmas!"

"Oh, come on, B'Elanna!" urged Tom Paris as he followed the 
furious half-Klingon engineer out of the mess hall. "It's the 
season of giving, the season of family, the season of ..."

B'Elanna spun around abruptly, nearly colliding with an 
unprepared charging Tom. "No! Do you understand me? No! N-O!"

"Why not?" demanded Tom. "For the two past years that we've been 
on Voyager, you've managed to come up with some excuse to get out 
of the Christmas party, but this year I've been watching things, 
and there is absolutely no legitimate reason for you to miss it. 
And you can't say it's because you hate Christmas. No one hates 
Christmas!"

"You ... I can't ... There's just ..." B'Elanna sputtered angrily at 
Tom, appearing as though she wanted to say three things at once, 
but couldn't figure out which to say first. Finally she gave up 
and stalked off. Tom stayed at her heels all the way to her 
quarters and followed her in.

"What, B'Elanna?" He took her by the shoulders and made her look 
him in the eyes. "Why are you avoiding the Christmas party?"

She shook herself out of Tom's grasp. "I told you! I *hate* 
Christmas!"

"That's ridiculous!" said Tom, exasperated. "You can't hate 
Christmas. There's no such thing!"

"There is for me, and I don't have to stand here and explain it 
to you." She stood her ground defiantly, with her arms crossed 
across her chest, clearly wanting Tom to leave.

"Okay, fine. I give up. I don't know why I even bother." With 
that, he turned and walked out, down the corridor a short way, 
and charged into his own quarters.

As the doors whooshed closed behind him, his eyes fell on the 
plain white box sitting on the coffee table. Bending over to pick 
it up, he noticed it felt heavier than he remembered, but looking 
inside, he found the contents to be the same as he'd left it. He 
felt every muscle in his body grow tense as his caught sight of 
the name on the tag. "B'Elanna," he mumbled, and repeated, "Why 
do I bother?" Sighing, he carried the box into his closet and set 
it down in the unending darkness.

*******************************


'How did I talk myself into this?' Joe Carey groaned to himself as the 
turbolift dropped towards Engineering. Surely there was something 
better than working in Engineering on Christmas Eve, especially 
since it meant going to the party late. And it sounded even worse 
when he remembered that he'd *volunteered* when few others came 
forward at Chakotay's request.

Sighing, he stared at the PADD that contained the orders the 
commander had given him. It wasn't that the work was hard or 
anything. It was more that it was maintenance, which could get 
tedious when there was nothing particularly wrong, as the current 
situation stood.

Not expecting many people to be in the corridor at this time, as 
most everyone else was in the Holodeck for the Christmas Eve 
party held in Paris' Sandrine's program, he didn't bother to look 
up as he wound his way out of the turbolift and into Engineering. 
He heard the sounds of a couple crew members milling about the 
stations, and headed blindly to the main console, where he bumped 
into a rather unhappy B'Elanna Torres.

Until then, she had been standing bent over in a wearied manner, 
her elbow on the console, propping up her head. They both seemed 
startled to find each other there.

"Carey, what are you doing here?"

"I was just about to ask you the same thing, Lieutenant. I 
figured you'd be at the party." Since she got stuck working in 
Engineering the two years before, he thought she'd attend it this 
year. No repairs were necessary this time, and it baffled him as 
to why she chose to work when she wasn't needed.

"Well, I'm not," she answered curtly.

"I just came from seeing Commander Chakotay, and I didn't see 
your name on the duty roster."

Impatiently, she replied, "Well, I'm not officially on duty then, 
aren't I?"

"No." Carey still felt confused. Torres looked obviously bored, 
and figured there had to be some other reason for her not 
attending the party.

But before he could ask her, she pointed to the PADD in his hand 
and asked, "Are those the maintenance checks we're supposed to 
perform?"

"Yes, but ..."

Torres took the PADD from him and glanced over the long list. 
"Okay, I'll take the first half, and you and everyone else can 
have the rest." She shoved the PADD back into his hand, grabbed a 
toolbox and headed to the Jeffries tubes without another word.

********************************

"Woo-hoo!" Tom cheered for himself as he sank another ball into a 
pocket on the pool table.

Harry Kim looked on from his table with a worried expression on 
his face.

He wasn't sure what to make of the situation. Tom was smiling, 
laughing, eagerly taking his turns, shouting out cheers when he 
made a target and mocking disappointment when he missed, and 
goading the audience into rooting for either him or his opponent.

Still Harry was worried.

Looking back to when the party started, he remembered that at one 
moment, Tom was sitting next to him, seeming solemn about 
something, and the next, he was up and announcing a challenge in 
a game of pool.

Tom had an easy upper-hand on each game, even though both players 
had to maneuver around the large decorated tree near the table. 
And although he seemed cheerful and involved with the game, Harry 
couldn't help but notice that it all seemed a little forced.

Harry snapped out of his reverie when a loud cheer resounded 
throughout the establishment. Tom stood, nodding at the onlookers 
triumphantly, drinking in the applause. As the cheering died 
down, he made his way back to the table. "Did you see that?" he 
asked, taking a sip from his drink. "I sunk four with one shot! I 
still don't believe it!"

Harry nodded, almost listlessly. "Yeah, it was a lucky shot." He 
couldn't care less about the game when the urge to ask if 
something was wrong kept tugging at him.

Tom cocked his head, giving his friend a funny look. "Harry, are 
you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Are *you* okay?"

Paris tried to conceal a double-take, but it didn't really work. 
"Of course, I am. I'm perfectly fine."

Judging by the slightly faltered tone in his voice, Harry was at 
that point sure that something was up. And he knew it wasn't just 
a coincidence that Voyager's chief engineer wasn't there 
celebrating either. "Are you sure, Tom? You don't -"

But before Harry could finish what he was saying, Tom gulped down 
half his drink and stood up again. Striding to the pool table, he 
called out loudly, "Who's ready for another game? Does anyone 
dare take on the champion?" And before Harry knew it, Tom had 
immersed himself with another lively game. Although he managed to 
fool everyone else there by appearing to be enjoying himself for 
the rest of the night, Harry never once doubted his initial 
suspicion that something was definitely bothering his friend.

*************************

B'Elanna just didn't feel like sleeping. The last time she 
checked, her chronometer read 00:52. What time was it now? She 
was so tired, she didn't even bother exerting the necessary 
energy to turn her head to glance at the clock. She'd worked 
almost the entire evening in Engineering, and she was beat. Not 
so much physically exhausted, but more like she was bored tired. 
The maintenance checks she ran were so monotonous and repetitive 
that she almost wished that something would go wrong. But it just 
wasn't her luck this year. Things couldn't have been going 
better, and she had to deliberately take half of Carey's assigned 
list of tasks to make herself seem busy.

But at least they kept her busy enough to keep her occupied until 
the damned party was almost three-fourths over. Then no one could 
make her go.

When she'd gotten back to her quarters, she changed and crawled 
into bed, preparing to sleep through most of the next day, but 
she found that she couldn't keep her eyes closed. She was 
restless. After about an hour of tossing and turning, she gave up 
and threw on a pair of sweats and just sat on her couch, hugging 
her knees to her chest. What she did for the next block of time 
wasn't considered thinking, but letting her mind wander. There 
just wasn't enough energy left in her to control where her mind 
went.

Images popped up randomly in her mind, but they passed with 
little or no outward response.

*I hate Christmas!*
*Mama and I don't celebrate Christmas anymore.*
*You can't hate Christmas!*
*Klingons don't celebrate Christmas.*
*Oh, Daddy, I love Christmas!*
*I don't have to stand here and explain it to you!*
*I figured you'd be at the party.*
*Merry Christmas, B'Elanna.*
*I give up. I don't know why I even bother.*

Finally, when the curiosity about how much time had passed got 
the better of her, she forced herself to turn her head to see the 
chronometer again. 01:49. She wrapped her arms tighter around her 
knees, and reluctantly prepared to enter another session of 
mental wallowing when her door chime sounded.

She continued to stare at an empty spot on the wall, hoping 
whoever was at the door would figure she was asleep and leave. 
But the door chimed again. And again.

Letting out a growl, she screamed, "What!?"

The doors leading to the corridor slid open and an apprehensive 
Harry tentatively poked his head in. "Uh, B'Elanna?"

Not wishing to lose her temper on Harry, but also not wanting to 
see anyone, she went straight to the point. "What do you want, 
Harry?"

"I ... uh, do you mind if ... I come in?"

B'Elanna didn't budge from her seat. "Now's not a good time, 
Harry. Could you come back the day after tomorrow?"

Taking a bold step in, Harry said, "No, now *is* a good time. I 
had the computer check to see if you were asleep, but you 
weren't." He stared down at B'Elanna, who at that point was 
shooting him a glare strong enough to eat through lead. But he 
didn't let that stop him. "Why weren't you at the party? And 
don't give me the 'I had to work' excuse. I happen to know that 
there was nothing of importance to work on."

B'Elanna only stared up at him, her eyes expressionless save for 
the raw irritation that sweet, ol' Harry would dare talk to her 
like that. Finally, realizing Harry would continue to stare down 
at her until she said something, she asked sarcastically, "What, 
is the party over *already*?"

"Don't change the subject, B'Elanna," Harry insisted. "And stop 
avoiding the question. Everyone thought you were coming to the 
party this year."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you all, but ... Christmas just isn't my 
thing."

"I can understand if you don't celebrate Christmas. Lots of 
people don't. But this party isn't specifically about Christmas. 
This is the time of year where family and friends get together 
and share their happiness. And since the only family any of us 
have is each other, this crew is one big family and we spend this 
holiday together. For heaven's sake, even Seven was there. And 
she would have the least of us all to celebrate. But she was 
*there*, B'Elanna. What do you think that says to people? That 
you're not their friend? That you don't consider them your 
friends and family?"

B'Elanna's eyes stung with tears as Harry's words hit her like a 
brick. But she refused to let the tears fall. Instead she stared 
back up at him, a new fury growing inside her. "You don't 
understand how much I hate this time of year, Harry! No one does! 
It reminds me too much of how I spent the last two decades of my 
life, miserable during Christmas, remembering the Christmases 
when my father was still around. I can't stand to think about it, 
don't you understand?"

"Sure I do," he replied. "But that's in the past. You have 
friends here on Voyager that want you to be around when we get 
together. It means a lot to them ... and to me. And this is the 
season of togetherness, season of family, and it's just the 
spirit that makes this time so special."

"Funny," B'Elanna mumbled. "That's what Tom said, too."

"And that's another thing. Poor Tom went through the entire party 
make-believing he was fine and dandy when it was plain and 
obvious to me that he was upset. And even though he wouldn't 
admit it, it had to be because you refused to show up and he 
expected you to be there."

B'Elanna bit her lip as she realized the impact his words were 
having on her. How selfish she had been. Not just this year, but 
the past two Christmases as well. No one on Voyager deserved to 
be treated this way. Not even Tom ... especially not Tom.

Harry seemed to be so surprised by his own audacity that he 
backed cautiously towards the door, fearing B'Elanna might take 
his intentions the wrong way. But she didn't. Instead, she 
unhooked her hold on her knees and stood. "Is ... he still there?"

Trying not to let his relief show too obviously, he replied, 
"Yeah, he is. So are quite a few others who haven't left yet."

"Are you going back?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm beat. I'm going to turn in for the 
night."

B'Elanna nodded slowly. "I'm sorry, Harry. I never meant to hurt 
anyone."

Harry reached out to squeeze her shoulder. "It's okay, but 
there's someone else you should say that to."

"I know. That's where I'm going."

*********************************

As B'Elanna neared the holodeck doors, they parted and she saw 
the party-goers inside turn to see her enter. Blushing 
sheepishly, she walked to the middle of the group tentatively. 
She managed to catch Tom's gaze, but he looked away after a 
moment and refused to look at her.

"B'Elanna," Janeway greeted her. "I'm glad you could make it."

"Where were you?" Simms asked.

"Oh, I wasn't feeling well," she lied. As bad as she felt about 
trying to get out of the party, she had no desire to explain her 
reason for not showing up in front this many people. "But now 
that I feel better, I thought I should at least stop in."

People responded with smiles, and saying that they were happy to 
see her. She managed to break away from them gracefully and 
caught up with Tom who was preoccupying himself by playing a solo 
game of pool. "Tom?"

He chose to ignore her, and moved around to the other side of the 
table for another shot.

B'Elanna fought against the urge to lose her temper, and searched 
for the right words. "Tom, I'm not sure how to explain this, but 
I know you're mad at me ..."

"You bet I am," he said angrily, stepping away from to table to 
stand face-to-face with her. "Do you know how hard I worked to 
put this together? This party was for the *entire* crew. I 
thought you were a part of it."

"I am! And I don't blame you for being upset." Steeling herself 
for her next words, she took a few steps away from him. "I was 
selfish, senseless, and what I did was downright heartless." She 
turned back to him. "And I'm sorry. Whatever terrible Christmases 
I had in the past shouldn't ruin any holiday party now. No one 
here deserved it, especially you. I shouldn't have been so 
inconsiderate."

Tom said nothing, so she continued. "I didn't have enough rations 
to replicate anything really big, but I hope this is enough to 
express my apologies." From her pocket, she pulled out a small 
box and handed it to him.

He held it in his hands as if he was unsure whether or not he 
should accept it. But finally he sighed and opened it. From 
inside, he pulled out a small glass ornament in the shape of a 
three-inch snowflake.

"It's for the tree," B'Elanna explained. "I hope you can forgive 
me."

Slowly, but surely, a smile appeared on Tom's face. "Of course, 
apology accepted." He took the ornament to the tree and hung it 
on the uppermost branch, and he stepped back to where she was 
standing. After casting a satisfied glance at the tree, he turned 
back to her. "I had a present for you, but it's still in my 
quarters, since I didn't think you were coming."

B'Elanna was about to say something grateful when she noticed 
that most of the remaining guests were staring at the two of them 
amusedly. "What?" she demanded.

Janeway pointed up to a twig of a green plant directly above 
their heads. "You're standing under mistletoe."

"So?"

"It's tradition that whenever two people stand under mistletoe, 
they have to kiss." A wry smile played on her lips, as a few 
people behind her chuckled.

"What?" She glared at Tom, surprised to find that he was just as 
shocked as she was. "This must have been your idea!" she accused 
him.

Tom held up his hands, indicating he was innocent. "I've never 
heard of this tradition either! Captain, you've got to be 
kidding!"

Janeway shook her head in all seriousness. "I'm not joking. It's 
a centuries-old custom."

A smile suddenly broke across Tom's face. "Not that I really 
mind."

B'Elanna threw him a sharp glare.

"Oh, come on, B'Elanna," laughed Tom. "For tradition's sake."

"You would say that." As much as she hated the idea, she decided 
to go along with it, not wanting to be any more of a Christmas 
grinch than she already had. "Fine," she conceded. "But only a 
small, quick one."

Tom shrugged, and bent down to give her a quick peck on the lips. 
Their eyes locked for a short instant after he stepped back, and 
she looked away as her face reddened.

Janeway smiled. "Happy holidays everyone!" As if on cue, everyone 
dispersed around the holodeck again.

"Keep in mind, helmboy," B'Elanna shot at him as she went to 
follow, "that kiss meant nothing!"

Tom stared after her, a grin dancing on his face. "Of course." 

THE END

************************

Many thanks to the phenomenal P/T Collective who not only gave me 
the inspiration to start writing, but also for being a wonderfully
welcoming and generous group I don't think I could now live without! 
{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{Collective}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}