The curse of a fair complexion. "Enough biting already. If you're
still hungry---"
"Tom!"
"What?"
"Stop talking---and kiss me!"
Lieutenant Tom Paris knew how to follow orders. So he did.
***********************
Harry escorted Malista back to her cabin. She was snuggling
against his arm and shoulder and using her free hand to trace the
outline of his cheek and jawline. She let herself be distracted from
displaying her affection for him for a moment so she could key in the
code for her door. As the door slid open, Harry hesitated.
Malista didn't notice and grabbed his hand, towing him inside her
quarters. She led him to the couch, let him seat himself then sat
right next to him, prepared to do a little cuddling. It seemed Harry
had other ideas.
He drew away from her and turned his body at a forty-five degree
angle, making it more difficult for her to get close to him. She
moved back warily, not understanding his lack of response. "Harry,
are you all right? Is something wrong?"
"Let's talk," he said, trying for a smile. His mind was awhirl
with topics he wanted to raise.
"Okay." She waited. He said nothing, just looked vaguely uneasy.
She lifted her eyebrows at him. "What did you want to talk about?"
"You're in a very good mood tonight," Kim commented again. It
didn't sound like he was happy about it.
"I am," Shadow agreed. She smiled and tried to take his hand,
but he slipped it out of her reach. Fighting a sense of rejection,
she folded her hands in her lap and sat up straight. "What's wrong
with that?"
"Nothing," Harry blurted. "Nothing's wrong with it. I just don't
understand why you're so---outgoing and---affectionate all of a
sudden."
Her green eyes were solemn. "It isn't all of a sudden, Harry.
It's been growing for a while."
He looked at her blankly, unconvinced.
"Well, actually, maybe I am in a better mood today than usual,"
she added placatingly. "The doctor says I can resume my duties
tomorrow."
Harry's expression didn't lighten. "Are you sure you're
physically healed?"
"The doctor is. Harry, what is it?" she asked nervously as he
stared at her with a strange, distant look on his face.
"So what else did you do today?" Kim asked, watching her
expression intently---almost as if trying to read her mind---or
trying to decide if she was answering truthfully.
"I helped Neelix in the kitchen---oh, you know that! You saw me
at lunch then--" She paused to think, not sure what he really wanted
to know. "Then B'Elanna came to lunch, and the captain joined us.
Everyone loved the souvlaki. It was my grandmother's recipe---and
Neelix didn't---"
"And after lunch?" Harry interrupted. That was unusual.
Normally, he was a model of polite behavior. He never interrupted.
She decided she must be telling him too many details. Maybe he wanted
a general idea. "I went to the holodeck."
"The resort?"
"No, that was later. The first time I was at Lake Como."
"Alone?" There was a hint of sharpness in the word.
She didn't like this one bit. He sounded accusatory. "No," she
began to match his abruptness. He frowned at her. She was beginning
to frown herself. "Actually, B'Elanna joined me for a while."
"B'Elanna?!"
She could tell that wasn't an answer he'd expected. "Yes, you
can ask her if you like," she added in an attempt to appease him.
Harry shook his head. "Why would I want to do that?"
"I don't know, Harry. Why would you? Would you please tell me
what this is all about?" she asked, torn between impatience and hurt.
"What is what all about?" Kim feigned ignorance, but couldn't
meet her eyes.
She flounced off the couch and faced him, forcing him to look up
at her. "What is this interrogation about? What is it you think I've
done? You've been acting weird all night. All day. For several days
for that matter. What is the problem?"
He was almost surprised. She'd never been so direct before. "I
don't know. Why don't you tell me? What is the problem, Malista?"
She shook her head, totally confused. "Harry, what's going on
here? Is this about the accident? Are you still blaming yourself?" It
was the only explanation for his atypical behavior that came to her
mind.
"Why?" His head snapped up, and he got to his feet, facing her
with his arms crossed. He looked defensive. "Do you blame me for it?"
"No," she said insistently. "It was just an accident. It wasn't
your fault or anyone else's."
"Chell says you changed out the coupling anyway---with the power
still on!"
he accused.
She flinched. She knew he was a very by-the-book Starfleet
officer. She'd known he'd disapprove and hoped he wouldn't find out
about that. "I know that's not exactly according to Starfleet
protocols---"
"No, it isn't. Were you trying to get yourself killed? Was it
another suicide attempt?"
She felt her mind reeling from the unexpected attack. "No!" She
couldn't believe that would even cross his mind! "The situation was
urgent---the power coupling was going to go out! I could tell---and
if we'd lost power then---you said yourself we couldn't afford to
lose power to the shields! Harry, this isn't like you!"
"It isn't? What, I'm not supposed to question your reckless
behavior? You almost got yourself killed! Are you sure that wasn't
the idea?" Harry heard himself saying outrageous things---but he
couldn't seem to stop himself. He wanted her to--- he wasn't sure any
more what he wanted.
She closed her eyes momentarily, trying to calm herself and
think clearly. "Harry, I don't know how to convince you---"
Her soothing voice had exactly the opposite effect of what she
intended. She was hiding from him again. She wouldn't tell him the
truth. "Fine. Then let's talk about Freddie Bristow."
Her eyes snapped open to stare at him in astonishment. "Freddie
Bristow? What about him?"
His jaw clenching, he returned her stare grimly. "Or maybe
there's someone else you've been spending your free time with, while
you've been off duty?"
"What?!" The injustice, the unfairness, and the unexpectedness
of the question totally floored her. She walked away from him toward
the viewport. She couldn't stand to be close to him---not when he was
behaving like some kind of raving lunatic. This was not the Harry
Kim she had come to know in the past six weeks. This man was a
stranger---and he was scaring her.
"Harry, I thought we settled this weeks ago. We said we were
going to be open and honest with each other---no more games. We also
said we would be seeing each other exclusively. That was the exact
word you used. Exclusively. And that's what I agreed to. I don't
want---other men," she said almost pleading. "I want you. Believe
me!"
"Are you sure you aren't just curious? About sex? How
do I know
you aren't using me to satisfy your curiosity---because I'm safe?
Because young Ensign Kim is safe? Is there anyone else on the ship
less---threatening?" He sounded bitter. "You want to let me teach
you some 'life lessons', use me to learn about men, then move on to
other new experiences, right?"
"Harry," she whispered, then choked as she couldn't think of a
response to an idea so foreign to her way of thinking.
He remained standing in the center of the room. Speaking half
to himself, he muttered, "At least I never had to worry about Libby
like this. She never tried to make me jealous."
"What did you say?" Malista said slowly, her voice low, harsh,
and perfectly enunciating each syllable.
"I said, Libby never treated me this way," Harry said more
loudly. "I could trust her. She didn't flirt with other men. We
shared something special, something wonderful. She would talk to me,
not play games. I didn't have to guess what she wanted---she'd tell
me the truth---not just what I wanted to hear!"
Her face an icy mask, she revolved slowly to face him. "Go away,
Harry," she said coldly.
"What?" He hadn't expected that. She usually avoided
confrontation and changed the subject. He'd hoped she'd tell him off.
"Get out." When he didn't move, she raised her right hand and
pointed to the door. "Get out of my quarters. Right now." Her voice
was emotionless, dispassionate.
She didn't care. She must not care about him at all. She'd just
been using him to satisfy her curiosity about---physical
relationships. Now she'd move on to someone else. If she cared---she
would answer his accusations---with fire! The way B'Elanna would.
Harry turned and walked out of the cabin.
As the door slid shut behind him, Malista thought, not for the
first time, that it was a shame you couldn't slam doors on a
starship. She felt a need to slam something. She strode to her table,
picked up the vase of flowers---roses that Harry had brought her---
and hurled it against the wall near the door. The crash and
splintering of the glass were small consolation. She sank to her
knees beside the couch, buried her face in her arms and sobbed.
***********************
Tom was in a great mood. He and B'Elanna had made it through one
whole evening without getting into an argument or speaking a cross
word. Their relationship was improving every day---every moment. He
superstitiously crossed his fingers---just in case.
As he sauntered into the messhall for breakfast, he wondered if
the lights were actually brighter than usual or if it was his
imagination because he felt so wonderful.
Then Tom spotted Harry Kim, sitting alone at a corner table, his
shoulders slumped, hair rumpled from running his fingers through it--
-looking like he'd been on a three day bender.
Taking his tray to Harry's table, Paris slid into the chair
opposite his friend silently. He wiped the smile off his face as he
took in Harry's bloodshot eyes and the dark circles under them. "Not
sleeping well?" Tom said quietly.
"Why are you whispering?" Kim asked listlessly.
Tom returned to his normal volume. "I thought you were hung
over."
"Well, I'm not!" Kim snapped. "I leave that kind of behavior to
you." He clasped his coffee cup with both hands and brought it to his
lips.
Tom nodded. "Okay. Fine. Whatever. I'll leave you to it." He got
to his feet with his tray, his face impassive, his mood suddenly a
little less bright.
Harry knew he'd hurt his friend though Tom was determined not to
show it. "Tom! Sit down. I'm sorry." He paused till Paris had
complied with his request. "It's not you. And I'm not hung over. I
didn't sleep much last night."
"You seemed fine when we left Sandrine's. What was the problem?"
Paris asked tentatively, trying not to sound too pushy.
"Indigestion?" Their late meal had been a little on the heavy side--
-but delicious.
"No." Harry focused his eyes on the remaining coffee in his
cup. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index
finger.
"Do you have a headache?"
"Yes."
"Want to go to Sickbay?"
Harry just looked at him.
"Okay, no Sickbay. Would it help to talk about it?"
Kim shook his head angrily. "No. I just made a total ass of
myself last night."
"Oh," Paris said sympathetically. He'd been there. Done that.
More than once. "One of those nights, huh?"
"And Malista will probably never speak to me again!"
"Uh-oh."
Harry ran his fingers through his hair impatiently---not for the
first time that morning. "When did I become a jealous idiot? Did the
transition sneak up on me or what?"
"You didn't?" Paris scoffed. "Freddie Bristow?"
Harry nodded.
"Oh, Harry! You knew that was nothing!" Paris sat back in his
chair, and took a sip of his coffee.
"I know. I just don't understand---why did I let it bother me? I
knew she didn't like him---but I---you wouldn't *believe* the things
I said, Tom! I don't believe them!" He banged his hand against his
forehead. "I couldn't seem to stop myself. All my insecurities just
came boiling out---and she still wouldn't get mad at me! She didn't
yell or call me an idiot---or tell me I was wrong. She stood there
and let me---She must not care about me at all," he concluded
morosely.
"Harry, I don't know what to tell you. I had the idea she--- she
was falling in love with you." Paris' brow crinkled thoughtfully.
"Why did you expect her to yell? She isn't the yelling type. She
doesn't explode like B'Elanna."
"That's the point. With B'Elanna, you always know where you
stand! I can't tell what Malista is thinking. She won't tell me! I
tried to get her to answer me last night! I even told her that Libby
didn't act that way," he protested.
Paris sat forward and grabbed Harry's forearm, his expression
horrified. "No! Tell me you didn't!"
"Didn't what?"
Tom shook his head sorrowfully. "You did! You said the L word!"
"L word?" Kim asked bemusedly, unsure if Tom was just being
dramatic or if there was cause for concern.
"You said 'Libby'."
"Yeah? So?"
"Harry, Harry, Harry!" Paris said, despairing of his friend's
good sense. "You never---*never*---compare the women in your life!
That's lesson number one! Did you skip that chapter?"
"I wasn't exactly comparing them," he mumbled.
"It doesn't matter if you don't think so. She's going to think
you are," Tom informed him. "And she'll never---ever---forget what
you said. You are in it really deep now, Harry Kim."
"You don't even know what I said."
"It doesn't matter. You just don't get it, do you? " Paris said,
sighing exasperatedly. "You brought Libby into it---you just told
Malista you still think about Libby."
"Of course, I still think about her. I love her."
"Sssh!"
Tom shushed him urgently. "Stop saying that!"
"Malista knows I love Libby. I told her so," Harry said.
"That was before you started dating Malista, right?"
"Right."
"Well, now she doesn't want to hear that!"
"If she knows it, she knows it," Harry said. "Hearing it or not
hearing it, isn't going to change anything!"
"Stop trying to be a logical, rational, engineering type, Harry!
She may know it, but she doesn't want to hear it," Paris insisted.
"If she doesn't hear it, she can pretend Libby doesn't exist---and
that you aren't comparing everything she says and does to your
perfect girlfriend back home!"
"I never said Libby was perfect!"
"No, but how would you like to compete with someone who's an
idol to the person you're in love---you care about? In a competition
you're always going to lose? There's no way to win!"
Harry felt a sudden certainty that he had mentioned Libby on
more than one occasion---and he was unsure how Malista had felt about
it. Did she resent it? She'd never said so, but then she hadn't been
very forthcoming in expressing herself. Maybe she was waiting for
him---No, she would have said something if it really bothered---
wouldn't she? Remembering her silence the night before---under
extreme provocation---Harry wasn't so sure she would have spoken up.
"How do you know so much about it?" Harry asked sullenly.
Paris fixed his eyes on his plate. His sunny mood had now
thoroughly dissipated. "Experience," he finally said diffidently. He
didn't want to think about his own problems with B'Elanna's
admiration of Chakotay right now. He checked the time. "We now have
ten minutes before we report to the staff meeting. I think you need
to go freshen up, Harry. Maybe the situation with Malista isn't as
bad as you think."
"Yeah, right." The ensign disappeared, leaving Paris picking
listlessly at the food on his tray.
***********************
Captain Kathryn Janeway's eyes made a quick surveillance of the
expressions of her senior staff members before dismissing the
meeting. It had been one of the quietest and strangest meetings
they'd ever experienced.
Ensign Harry Kim, usually alert and interested in every aspect
of the ship's status, had straggled in looking as though someone had
pulled him through a knothole backwards. He was not meeting anyone's
eyes, but seemed to be especially avoiding looking at Torres and
Trials 03 Torres' Trial Page 8
