Authors Note: Hi everybody.  This story was written for the Archivist Challenge from the P/T Collective Fanfiction Archive.  It's a left out scene told from B'Elanna's point of view.  What if she lied to Tom?  What if she really did get all of his letter, but was afraid to show him.  What if?  What if when I hit my head it pushes my hair into my brain?  Well, I'll answer a few of those "What if"'s right now.Standard Disclaimer : I do not own any of the characters from Voyager, nor am I affiliated with the show in any way, shape or form.  I  am merely borrowing to try and create something entertaining ... or at least mildly interesting.WARNING : Contains some strong language and an implied adult situation.  Rated pg-13 "You Have Mail"© March, 1998Written by : Laura     Perhaps the brunt of secrecy is over rated.  I mean, it's been almost a whole day and I haven't told him yet.  Am I right not to tell him?  On the outside, Tom appears to be just this cocky, chauvinistic pilot, who can't go five minutes without cracking a joke.  Of course, once you actually got on the inside you can see he's fragile.  He's like an insecure little boy who needs to know that he's wanted and people like him.     I don't think I'm going to be able to bring myself to tell him the awful truth about the letter.  Maybe it's best that I just let the thing die, because there's a certain security Tom gets out of it.  I mean, we can pretend that it said his father forgives him and that he loves him.  We can pretend that it said how much the Admiral missed his son, and how much he worries.  We could leave it at that and move on with our lives.     Of course, it didn't say that.  I don't know if I can  let it die though.  Fuck it all.  Why do I always have to make such decisions.  Would it be morally wrong to smash the PADD which I stored it on into a hundred million tiny little bits?  Or to throw it into a plasma manifold and watch it melt?       The burden of my thoughts is keeping me awake, all though at the moment I'm pretty mellow.  Tonight, Tom and I ... we made love for the first time.  It was an incredible experience - one that I doubt I'll ever forget.       Tonight, Neelix had thrown a party to celebrate the good news from back home ... and to cheer up those who got some bad news.  Tom and I weren't particularly enthusiastic about socializing tonight, so we came back to my quarters and had a little party of our own.  I just couldn't stay on the holodeck anymore.  People we so cheerful, especially Harry.  He kept talking about the letter he had gotten from his family.  About how they were so overjoyed he was alive and they never gave up on him, even when Voyager was officially declared lost.  I'm happy for him, really, but the kid was starting to get on my nerves.     I didn't get any messages.  But who the hell would send me one?  My mother?  I bet she's sitting at home on the Klingon home world, drinking her Raktajino and ranting about how everyone's against her.  And my father?  I haven't seen the bastard in twenty-two years.  He's probably off gallivanting around the universe with a beer in one hand and a blonde in the other.      My mind is starting to wander.  I'm just so depressed about the message Chakotay got about the Maquis.  Dead.  All friggen dead.  What was all our fighting for?  Everything the Maquis had worked for was gone ... wiped out at the hands of the Cardassians and that race from the Gamma quadrant, I can't remember their names, but who the fuck cares?  I feel a little better now - god knows Tom helped me there - but I can't help  thinking about how angry I was before.  It was the Klingon in me I suppose.       Something's poking into my side.  It's Tom's elbow.  I need to take a walk.  I gently lifted his arm off of me and slid out of his bed.  I wandered out of my bedroom and into the living area.  I tripped over something on my way to the replicator, which was followed by a series of curse words.          "Coffee - hot and black," I whispered to the computer.  I didn't want to wake up Tom. The computer beeped loudly as it processed my request.  I shushed at it, without realizing that it didn't understand spit noises.  A black mug materialized with thin wisps of steam spiraling over the rim. I picked it up and sulked my way over to the sofa.  On my way there, I noticed the PADD sitting on my coffee table.  Why did I leave it out? Tom was going to find it.  I reached for it and was about to hide it under my couch cushions, when I stupidly decided to look at it again.     I studied the writing on the screen.  Each word seemed to fill me with this searing dislike for a man I never even met.   I began to read it quietly to myself out loud ...     "Thomas,          I never expected to have to find myself writing this letter.  When Janeway let you on Voyager four years ago, I never expected you to stay there.  I gave it a week tops before you screwed up again.  But when the ship went missing and it was assumed to be destroyed and everyone on it terminated, well I believed that  you had made your last mistake.  Perhaps it would have been better for everyone if you actually had died.          I know you're my son, and as your father, I'm supposed to love you unconditionally, but what kind of a father deserves a son like Tom Paris?  You were a constant disappointment Thomas.  Even when you were a little child.  You never showed any interest in command, or even Star Fleet itself.  Flying was all that mattered to you.  And it was flying that got you into trouble.  I've been thinking recently about he Caldik Prime incident.  You know that if you had stuck with my story that you would not have been court marshaled.  But you and your damned conscience.  You spoiled the Great Paris name.  Paris' everywhere have hung their heads a little lower.          Do you remember when you were a child Tom?  I had such control over you than.  Perhaps I wasn't strict enough with you.  All though, the Perihelion laser whip was pretty convincing wasn't it?  Do you still have those scars on your back Thomas?  I would expect so.  But if you had done what I asked you than the disciplining would not have been necessary.            When your EMH was transferred onto the Prometheus, I had a little talk with him.  He told me about many for your accomplishments on Voyager : breaking the Warp 10 barrier, saving the ship with your incredible piloting skills, and you've even become a medical assistant.  That's what really gets me. The thought of people's lives in your hands.  How many have you killed by now Tom?  Janeway has more faith in you than you deserve.  Oh, and the doctor also told me about this little thing you've been having with a Klingon.  Hell, it's not even a whole Klingon.  Have you not brought enough shame to this family?  No, you thought you could do a little more damage by having an affair with this half-breed.  I have never been so disappointed.          I guess I have nothing more to say to you.  If Voyager returns to the Alpha quadrant, don't expect my enthusiasm.  There is no home for you here Thomas ... not now, not then, not ever.  I don't allow traitors into my house.  If I were you, I'd take that bitch of yours and find a nice little planet to settle on.  God knows you could spare everyone a lot of grief.                              Admiral Owen ParisP.S. - Your sisters told me to pass along that they miss you terribly, although I can't imagine why. "     I think I am going to explode.  This letter is so terrible.  How can anybody think that way about their own son?  Now I understand what Tom has been talking about all this time.  He has always hated his father.  And I think I know why.  Just from reading this letter, I already have this insight into Admiral Paris.  He is a cold man, who puts career in front of his family.  Perfection is everything to him.  And Tom couldn't live up to his demands.  He eventually just stopped listening to his father and went his own way.  But deep inside, Tom still wanted his father's respect.  But the Admiral couldn't do that.     Tom never talked to me about the Caldik Prime incident.  Not in depth anyway.  He mentioned it here and there, but nothing about his side of the story.  I'm reading that part about Caldik Prime again.  Perhaps it wasn't all Tom's fault.  The Admiral falsified the reports - not Tom.  Perhaps if the big shot from Star Fleet had let his son come forward in the first place, Tom would have not had to go to the detention colony in New Zealand.     What a bastard.  He actually beat Tom when he was a kid.  That is so awful.  I remember hearing something about laser whips when I first joined the Maquis.  They were outlawed in over half the Alpha Quadrant, because they were ruled as a cruel means of torture.  I had asked Tom about the scar on his shoulder once, but he completely clammed up about it.  I guess that's where he got it.     Tom has made some incredible accomplishments during  his time on Voyager.  He's found a new life for himself.  He's a good officer, a great friend.  He's saved this ship more times than I can count. And he's one of the most romantic guys I've ever met.  Which brings me to another point - where in the hell does the admiral get off calling me a half-breed bitch?  He's never even met me.  Gee, prejudice much?     I don't know.  I think it's best if I just destroy this god damned thing.  It will put me out of my misery.  Yeah, that's what I'll do ... but what would Tom think if he found out I never gave it to him?  He'd get angry with me.  But who's going to tell him ... not me.  Hey wait a second, what's that noise?  Uh oh, I think Tom woke up.          "OH GOD DAM IT!!" came a pained cry from my bedroom.     Yep, that was him.  He must have tripped over that fucking foot stool thing like I did.  Why do I leave that thing lying around?   Oh my god, what do I do with the letter?  I looked back into the darkness of my room.  A form was stumbling around in the blackness.  I looked down at the letter. A series of conflicting emotions ran through my head, and different scenarios began to play in my mind.          "Computer, lights," ordered Tom.     The lights in my quarters flickered on.  In an instant I made my decision.  Before Tom could say a word, I pushed a red button on the data PADD.  The words simply disappeared.  I had destroyed the letter.  Was it the right thing to do?       "What are you doing out here?" he asked as he joined me on the sofa.       "Uh, nothing," I faltered in reply.     He looked down at the PADD.  "What's that?" he asked curiously.       "Oh, just a blank PADD.  I forgot I left it on the couch and I accidentally sat on it," I told him as I placed it on the coffee table.       "So ... any particular reason  why you're out here?"       "No ... well, I was just thinking about things.  About the past few days, and I couldn't sleep.  Tom," I said, "You know that I love you right?"       "Yeah," he replied curiously.     I wanted to tell him a million things.  I just wanted to shout *I lied about the letter*.  But I couldn't.  I looked into his eyes.  There was just so much life in those cerulean blue pools.  I couldn't do it.  I couldn't hurt him any more.  I loved him too much.  It's best that the fantasy of the letter remain than to smash it with the truth.           "Tom ... can you tell me about your father?  Please?"                                  FIN**************************************************************************************************************************************************Well, that's all for now kiddies.  Did you like it?  Did you hate it? Let me know. Feedback is always appreciated. Yoc can drop me a note at raven_36@hotmail.com