on the ground beside her, scooting sideways under the blanket until
their sides barely touched. She tossed half the blanket over him.
They sat there for a few minutes, stiffly, with his left arm and
leg pressing lightly against her right side. Warmth seeped into
their bodies from every point of contact. It wasn't enough. They
needed to be closer. A shiver ran through her body. Harry silently
prayed for wisdom and the right words. "Malista, if I put my arm
around you, we could---uh------"
"Okay." She leaned forward a little. He slipped his left arm
around her shoulders and cautiously turned her body toward him,
pulling her tighter to his side. She slowly lowered her head to rest
on his shoulder, curling her long legs up next to his outstretched
legs. She scooted her right arm around his back and held him to her
as their shivering slowly subsided.
Malista didn't seem to know what to do with her left hand. She
caught the edge of the blanket and drew it up over them more
securely, then cautiously rested her hand on his chest. She could
feel his heartbeat under her palm. It felt so---reassuring. She
could count the beats. She spread her fingers to increase the
contact. She closed her eyes.
Harry gulped. That was easier than he'd expected. At last, he
was warm again. He was glad she wasn't afraid of him. At least, he
thought he was glad. He was beginning to think she thought of him as
a teddy bear.
'Cute little Harry,' he thought disgustedly. 'Oh, no, he's not
dangerous. A safe date. But if she calls me cute, I may have to hit
her. Yeah, right, Harry. You couldn't hit a woman. Especially not
this woman. She's suffered enough for a lifetime. And she's only---
how old is she? Twenty-four? Never ask a woman her age. But still,
she better not call me cute. I hate cute! It took me six months to
convince Libby not to call me cute.'
His mental monologue was completely driven out of his head as
Malista threw her left leg over his thighs. Her right leg pressed up
against the side of his legs and hip. "Aren't your legs cold?" she
mumbled into his chest. "They felt cold. Is this helping?"
"Oh, yeah, that's better," Harry choked, trying to mentally
recite the Operations Stations command routes in order of importance.
Anything to help him forget that he was surrounded by a warm, willing
woman---no, not willing. Trusting. She trusted him not to---act on
his instincts.
Oh, wow, had she gotten prettier in the last few days? When he'd
first seen her picture, he'd thought she was plain. He didn't
remember her being this attractive when he first met her either. She
didn't seem so tall, curled around his body as she was now.
"Harry?" She was puzzled by his silence and tilted her head up
to gaze at his face, just inches from her own.
He glanced down at her and found his dark eyes locked onto her
green ones. She had beautiful eyes---cat-like eyes. Mysterious eyes.
Almost slanted. Her lashes were so long and curly. Her cheekbones
were high and her lips pink and moist. Her skin looked so soft, so---
kissable---so touchable---*No!* No, no, no! No touching!
"Yes, Malista?" His voice cracked as he spoke her name. He
couldn't believe it! That hadn't happened since he was fifteen.
"Harry, are you all right?" she asked, concern touching her
expression and her voice.
"Oh, yeah," he muttered, bringing his free hand up to wipe his
brow. Beads of sweat were forming, in defiance of the cold air around
them. She was tensing up.
He had to stop acting like a randy teenager or he'd scare her again.
'Get your mind back above your waist, Harry,' he told himself.
"I'm fine, Malista. Are you okay?" Tom would kill him if he
scared her back into her shell. If B'Elanna didn't kill him first.
"You don't seem all right," she commented. "If I'm making you
feel uncomfortable, I can move back--- " She started to pull away.
He held onto her. "No! It's okay. Don't move." Her every
movement seemed to intensify his awareness of her and his desire for
her and to stimulate---his imagination.
She froze. She peered up at his face, curiously. "Why?"
He cast his eyes heavenward. "Why me, Lord?" he called
plaintively. "Is this some kind of trial? Is this a test?"
"Harry, you're acting really weird," Malista commented
cautiously, not sure what he was upset about and not wanting to make
it worse.
"We're Starfleet officers. Weird is part of the job," Harry
quoted. He made the mistake of looking at her face. His eyes became
ensnared in hers again.
"Harry, what's going on? Did you hit your head, too?" Her eyes
were innocent. So innocent. Harry had never met a girl above the age
of ten with eyes that innocent. He felt like a total heel. She really
didn't realize the affect she had on him. Maybe he should warn her.
If she behaved this way with anyone else, she might be in big
trouble. Of course, she wouldn't behave this way, this trustingly
with anyone else.
'Trust. That's the key word here, Harry,' he thought. 'She
trusts you because---why? Why?! Because she doesn't *know* any
better! That's why! If she could read your mind right now, she'd know
you're half a step from a *sex fiend*! She'd scream blue murder! Stop
looking at her lips, stupid! You'll kiss her if you don't stop
looking right now! Who knows what that might lead to? Don't think
about it, idiot! You're making it worse!'
He licked his dry lips and tore his gaze away from her to stare
at the fire. He tried not to breathe too deeply. The scent of her
perfume or body lotion or whatever it was---oh, that sweet, spicy
scent was driving him slowly insane! 'Body lotion? Oh, the image
that conjured---! Stop it! Stop it right *now*!' he mentally yelled at himself.
She'd felt so relaxed, but now Harry was---she didn't know what
he was. She wanted to identify the problem. She and Harry needed to
be friends, to keep Tom and B'Elanna happy, if for no other reason.
She didn't want her silly reaction earlier to cause trouble between
them. Maybe he was angry because she'd been afraid of him?
'Duh, Malista,' she thought, 'Any man would resent someone
being afraid of him for no reason. It's an insult.'
She tried again, "Harry? Tell me what's wrong. I didn't mean to
hurt your feelings or make you uncomfortable."
'Oh, Kahless, now she's apologizing to me?' Harry thought,
borrowing an epithet from Torres.
"Malista, I know you don't have a lot of experience---with men,
I mean." His words screeched to a halt as he kept his eyes firmly
fixed on the fire, trying to sense her reaction by the feel of her in
his arms. "I don't want to scare you---but being close to you is---
causing---a reaction---a physical reaction. It would help me a lot if
you'd stay---really---really---still."
Her eyes widened with astonishment, she pulled her head back so
she could study his face carefully. "You mean you---I thought earlier
it was beca
use you were asleep?"
"What?" He had to see her face. He couldn't understand what she
meant. He tore his gaze from the fire to study her expression.
"I mean, you're awake now. You know who I am," she added.
His brow furrowed. "What has that got to do with it?"
"Well, you're not attracted to me," she explained simply as if
that were the most obvious notion in the universe.
He snorted in disbelief. "What gave you that idea?" He felt her
start of surprise. "You're an attractive---no, a lovely woman. Why
wouldn't I be attracted to you?"
"You don't even like me!" she exclaimed. "How could you be---how
could you want---" She broke off in confusion, her stare demanding
an explanation. Her confusion only deepened when Harry laughed.
"I thought I was the most naive person on Voyager," Harry said,
chuckling. "But I think you just stole my title." He tried to wipe
the smile off his face and answer a serious question seriously, but
her innocent assumption amused him. "Malista, liking someone has
nothing to do with wanting someone. Well, no, I take that back. I
mean you can like someone without wanting them---or you can sometimes
want someone without liking them very much. It can be just a
physical---oh, murder! I can't believe I'm having this conversation.
Didn't your mother tell you anything!?"
"My mother died when I was nine," she replied solemnly. "I'm
sorry, Harry. I know you must think I'm stupid. I never was
interested in anyone---not enough to want to---you know---before I
joined the Maquis. Then after Huldon III, I didn't want anyone near
me. I don't know much about men. Or sex. I never asked before,
because I didn't think---"
"What?" He smiled at her with gentle concern. Maybe she felt
comfortable asking him because they were both too tired to feel
inhibited. Maybe it was because they were alone and likely to be
alone for several hours so there was no chance of being overheard or
interrupted.
'Harry Kim, Sex Education Instructor?' he thought. 'Now that's a
laugh riot. But, why not?' Somebody needed to answer her questions
and he was the only one available right now.
"I didn't think I'd ever need to know. I mean, I didn't think it
was going to come up," she said, gazing at the fire. She put her head
back down on his shoulder.
He unconsciously began stroking her back with his right hand in
a gesture of comfort. "It's okay, Malista. I've been asking questions
since I boarded Voyager. Maybe it's my turn to answer a few. You
can ask whatever you want. I'll do my best to answer you, but
honestly, I have limited experience myself."
He felt her smile against his chest. "Thank you, Harry---Now I
can't think of anything to ask." She was trying not to laugh. Without
thinking, she was tracing random patterns on the ensign's chest with
her index finger as if doodling with a pen or stylus.
It tickled---but it was also---stimulating. He smiled. "Well,
how about if we go back a few subjects?"
"Mmm?"
"What in the world made you think I don't like you?"
She shrugged and declined to answer.
"Malista? I do like you. I think you're pretty. You're
intelligent. You have a good sense of humor. You're attractive---"
"What does that mean? To a man? Attractive?"
"Whew! You can ask some hard questions. It means different
things to different people. You've heard the expression 'Beauty is
in the eye of the beholder'. What attractive is---well, it changes
from person to person. It's subjective. As for what it means when a
man says you're attractive---it usually means he's physically
attracted to you. He would like to get to know you better. Maybe more
than that. It depends on the context," Harry stated, hoping his
fumbling explanations wouldn't confuse her. He'd never thought much
about this topic, much less had to put it into words for someone who
knew less than he did.
"What does it mean to you?" she whispered. "Am I really
attractive? To you? No, don't answer that!" Unconsciously her arms
tightened around him, as if she was afraid to hear his answer. Afraid
it would be yes? Or afraid it would be no?
Harry's hand cupped her chin and tilted her face up to his. "I
have a hard time understanding why you don't think you're attractive.
Don't you have a mirror? To answer the question, yes. You are
attractive to me. Very attractive---to me." His thumb traced the line
of her cheekbone. Her skin was soft. And smooth and---warm---and---
"You don't look at me the way the other men do," she commented,
her bewilderment easily read in those green eyes.
His dark eyes narrowed. "What other men?" She tried to pull away
from his hold, but he refused to let her retreat. "What other men?"
he repeated.
"Ensign Natwick. Some of the men I work with. Men I see in the
corridors of the ship or in the mess hall. Especially when I'm alone."
He let go of her chin and she let her head sink back down onto
his shoulder. "How do they look at you?" Harry felt a need to know. A
green-eyed imp of jealousy was at his shoulder, egging him on. He
told himself he only wanted her point of view. He'd seen how some of
the men in question reacted to her, but he didn't know if she
understood or perceived their interest the way he did.
She shuddered. "I don't know. I feel their eyes and it's like---
I don't know how to describe it."
"How does it make you feel?"
"Dirty." She bit her lower lip. "The way they look at me, makes
me feel dirty or like---they're touching me. I just want to get away
from them. Quickly."
"Have they touched you?" His tone was harsh, but she could sense
the anger in his voice was not directed toward her, but towards the
men. He wasn't sure himself why the thought of other men bothering
her should disturb him so much.
She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder, trying to calm him.
"No, of course not," she said. "They just look." She shuddered again
as she got a mental picture of them. "Sometimes I think they say
things about me, but never loud enough for me to hear."
"And how do I look at you? You said I was different," Harry
coaxed.
"I don't know if I should answer that," she teased shyly.
"Come on, Malista. That's not fair. You brought it up. I've
never seen the way I look at a woman I'm attracted to. I don't know
what I look like. Tell me."
She smiled drowsily and turned her face into the curve of his
neck. "Let's just say that when you look at me, you see all of me---
including my face. I think those other guys don't know I have a face
at all."
Her warm breath stirred against his skin, sending chills down
his spine and a wave of heat shooting through his body. "They're
idiots," he rasped, inhaling the vanilla scent of her shampoo. He
rubbed his cheek against her hair, enjoying its silky texture.
"You're a nice man," she murmured sleepily. Her hand left his
chest and moved up to stroke his cheek affect
ionately.
'Nice?! That's almost as bad as cute!' he thought disgustedly.
Aloud he said, "Thanks, I try." He secured her questing hand in
his and turned it toward his face. He kissed her palm. She suddenly
stilled. He wasn't sure she was even breathing. He wasn't sure
he was---as he waited for her reaction.
"Harry?" a breathless whisper.
"Yes?" He rubbed his thumb along the base of her hand.
"Would you do me a favor?" She sounded uncertain, her voice
wavering slightly.
"Sure. What can I do for you?" He hoped he sounded cool and in
control.
"Could you do that again?" He had to strain to hear her murmur.
He grinned. "Sure." He kissed her palm again, this time letting
the tip of his tongue caress it lightly.
She took a deep, shuddering breath. "Oh, my!"
"You like that?" Harry's grin was so wide now it could be heard
in his voice.
"It makes me feel---all shivery---but not cold," she gasped. "Do
you know what I mean?"
"Yes. Would you---like to try something else?" Kim said
tentatively.
She still refused to meet his eyes. "Like what?"
"Like---maybe kissing?" he suggested quietly. He waited for her
response.
She shrugged, trying to sound indifferent as she replied, "I
don't know. I've never tried it."
"Never?" He tried to keep his astonishment from showing, but
wasn't entirely successful.
"Well, I kissed my father and brothers. On the cheek or
forehead."
"Didn't you ever kiss Tom?" Another green-eyed imp prompted that
question. It had to be answered. He'd wondered about her relationship
with the tall, good-looking heartthrob of Voyager. He couldn't
believe she wouldn't fall for Paris. Almost every other woman on the
ship had been interested in him at some time or another.
"Ewww! No, that would be like kissing my brother!" Her
exclamation had the ring of honesty.
Harry Kim instantly felt a whole lot better. "So, would you like
to try it?"
"You don't mind giving me lessons?" she asked hopefully as she
blinked up at him. "I'm so tired of being afraid---of touching, of
kissing---of men. If you don't want to, it's okay. I'll understand.
But if you wouldn't mind, would you please kiss me? At least once? So
I can see what it's like?"
Harry made an effort and refrained from rolling his eyes or
Trials 02 Harry's Trial Page 6
