"That may be true on your homeworld, but it isn't true in every
culture."
"Chakotay, I'm may be stupid, but I'm not *that* stupid! I know that,"
she snarled. "I know it in my head. But that's not me! I'm
not---marriage material. Not any more."
"So what are you going to do about Harry Kim?" Chakotay asked,
watching her carefully and noting how she cringed at the mention of
the young man's name.
Her lips trembled as she attempted a smile. "I'm going to enjoy our
relationship as long as it lasts. And if we ever manage to make love,
I'm going to do my best to enjoy it and give him pleasure. I'm going
to make him happy for as long as I can. And when he leaves me..." Her
voice cracked. "When he leaves me, I'll try to learn to---no, I *will*
learn to live without him---somehow."
"What makes you think he'll leave you?" Chakotay had to ask. She made
it sound like a fait accompli. As if there were no other *possible*
outcome.
She almost managed a laugh, but it was more of a sob. "Because men
like Harry Kim---don't have to settle for--- He's an honorable man.
He's also young. He may want to experiment sexually with a woman like
me, but eventually, when he's older and he's ready to start a family,
he will want to marry---and it won't be me. He'll find someone
else---someone more---more worthy---"
"Malista---"
She shook her head obstinately. "Chakotay, I'm a realist. Or I'm
trying to be one. I don't *deserve* someone like Harry. For some
reason, right now, he's attracted to me. He likes me---he's fond of me
and wants to spend time with me. I'm happy with that. I'll *be* happy
with that---as long as it lasts."
"Did you ever think that this might be the reason you have a block
about making love with Harry?"
"What?" she asked breathlessly, frowning her confusion.
"Maybe you're not comfortable with sexual intimacy, because you feel
you should be married before you take that step," the first officer
suggested.
She grimaced. "Chakotay, you weren't listening. He knows what
happened. I've been honest with him. He knows I'm not a virgin. Harry
doesn't *want* to marry me."
"Are you so sure?" Chakotay couldn't believe she was so damned
stubborn under that quiet exterior. "It may not be an issue with him.
That may be why he's never brought up the subject. You know that he's
not a virgin himself."
"Men never are," she said cynically. "Isn't it odd how that double
standard has survived for centuries? Especially in backward colonies
like Helios. Do you think it's because my people are Greek? Or because
they're farmers? Tradition bound. Oh, it doesn't matter why. It's
still true." She looked exhausted. She rubbed her forehead as if her
head ached. "Can I go now?"
Chakotay frowned at her. He was depressingly aware that nothing he had
said seemed to have helped her at all. Nothing he'd said had made a
dent in her low self-esteem. He gave it one more try. "Malista, Harry
is showing every symptom of being a man who is in love with you."
"He's never said so. Harry is a very kind person. He wouldn't want to
lead me on." There was a hint of bitterness in her tone. "It's not his
fault. I don't expect him to want more than I'm willing to give. For
Harry, there is *nothing* that I'm not willing to give to him, but I'm
not sure he understands that. And I won't push *him* for more than he
is willing to give me. I want his happiness. The cost to me---doesn't
matter." She seemed to be sincere.
Chakotay didn't know what to say to that. He wasn't one hundred
percent sure he was reading Harry Kim correctly. Harry was a
relatively young man, inexperienced in many aspects of life and
sometimes difficult to analyze. It was possible the ensign *wasn't*
deeply involved on an emotional level. Stymied, the first officer
tried to think of something else to persuade her to change her view of
herself and her situation. If she wouldn't listen to him....
"Malista, have you talked to Tom about this? Any of it?"
She looked puzzled. "No, not really. Why?"
"You should. I've heard his relationship with his father---wasn't the
best. Something else you two have in common. You might learn something
from him. He might have some advice to offer. And no one knows Harry
as well as Tom. Think about it. All right?"
"All right. I have some time off this morning. I think I'll go back to
my quarters and try to get some sleep. I think now I'm worn out enough
that I won't even dream." Her mouth twisted in an ironic smile. She
took a moment to compose herself. She walked out into the corridor and
the door slid closed.
Chakotay felt saddened by the practiced ease with which she'd assumed
her mask of cool control. The first officer had a definite feeling
there was a lot more she wasn't telling him. It was like working in
the dark wearing a blindfold and earplugs. He could tell she'd agreed
just to placate him. She had no intention of confiding further in Tom
Paris or anyone else. She'd slammed the walls around herself firmly
into place and was denying everyone entry.
Chakotay slumped in his chair. He was worn out emotionally himself. He
began to go over his options. He needed to enlist some help. He was
grateful that the doctor had already scheduled a conference to discuss
Malista Shadow and her treatment. With him. And with Tom Paris. In two
hours. They were to have met three days ago, but other problems and
scheduling conflicts had forced a cancellation of the original
appointment. The first officer hoped the delay hadn't allowed a bad
situation to worsen beyond all hope of a remedy.
Chakotay wondered how much he *could* help Malista Shadow. Without
violating confidentiality, how much could he tell anyone? She wouldn't
confide even in him completely. The doctor had some pieces of the
puzzle, he had others, and Tom---who knew how much he knew? Who ever
knew what was going on behind that smart ass facade? Certainly not
Chakotay. Paris still seemed to raise his shields the moment Chakotay
opened his mouth. And sometimes when he didn't. Sometimes all it took
was a look from the first officer to provoke that reaction.
This was going to take some finesse. And involving Paris---if Malista
was emotionally volatile, then Paris was the wild card in the game. Or
was that Harry Kim's role? Spirits, he wished they had a trained
counselor on board!
*************************************
"You're stalling," B'Elanna Torres accused.
Tom Paris jerked guiltily as he toyed with the food on his plate.
"Yeah," he admitted reluctantly. "I must look pretty rough around the
edges if Neelix is trying to force feed me peanut butter and jelly
sandwiches again. I should never have told him about comfort foods."
The chief engineer lips upturned into a fond smile. "Yes. You do look
pretty rough. Are you all right?"
Tom eyed her trying to judge how hard a time she was going to give
him. "I just don't want to go t
o this meeting. That's all."
"Why?" She cupped her chin in her palms, resting her elbows on the
table as she studied his solemn expression.
"Why what?"
"Don't answer a question with a question," she growled, echoing one of
his favorite complaints about Malista's style of conversation. "You
know what I mean. You told Harry you were going to talk with the Doc
and Chakotay about the next step in counseling Malista. So?"
"So what?" He quickly snapped his arms down to cover his ribs as she
feinted a punch toward them. "Sorry." He picked up half his sandwich
and took a small bite. 'Stalling for time again, Tom?' he asked
himself. 'Yeah,' he answered himself. He chewed slowly. Very slowly.
B'Elanna waited, showing no signs of impatience except for the slight
crease of a beginning frown between her brows. She reminded him of a
hunting cat, waiting for its prey to make a move. Silently.
Staring.
Silently.
'Oh, that's not fair!' Tom thought. 'I can stand anything---but
silence.' He smiled feebly in Torres' direction and reached for his
cup. She smacked the back of his hand.
"Ouch!"
"Stop stalling. Talk to me." She sighed. Loudly. "Tom, why don't you
want to go to the meeting? You've been telling me for
days---weeks---how worried you are about Malista! Isn't this your best
chance to do something about it?"
"B'Ella, I just---"His words died as he took in the compassion in her
beautiful brown eyes. He couldn't lie or make up a story. Not with
those eyes looking at him with that expression. He reached for her
hand and clasped it between his, finding comfort in the thrill of
warmth that spread through him every time he touched her. He found
himself marveling again at the miracle that had led to the two of them
finding each other. In the Delta Quadrant of all places. Who would
have ever thought....
"Talk to me, Tom," she urged him earnestly. "I'm listening." As he
hesitated, she made an educated guess. "You're worried about dealing
with Chakotay?"
He exhaled noisily, relieved that he didn't have to find the words
that would express his thoughts without offending her. "Yeah."
"And you're afraid you won't know what to do to help Malista? You're
afraid you'll screw it up?"
"Yeah." The word came out more easily this time. His eyes widened at
her perception.
"I've got news for you, Hotshot. You don't know everything. And no
one---except you-expects you to always have the answers and solve all
the problems you know about."
A hint of a sheepish smile tugged at his lips. "Here I thought I had
you fooled. How long have you known I'm not omnipotent?"
Torres sighed again, this time with a hint of exasperation at his
attempt at humor. "And you're afraid Malista or Harry or both will get
hurt? And blame you?"
"Sort of. Hey, you're getting good at this stuff," Tom said with a
relieved grin. To him, it felt as if she had removed a mantle of solid
deuterium off his shoulders. He wasn't in this alone. This was
something that had always been missing from his life. A willing
partner to help bear his burdens. Whether he wanted her to, or not.
Okay, so there was a down side as well.
Torres grinned wryly, bringing her free hand up and placing it atop
their clasped hands. "I'm learning. And I'm not good at 'this stuff'.
I'm just getting better at reading you." She raised her eyebrows. "Of
course, reading you is light reading. Sort of like reading a
holocomic."
"Hey!" he protested automatically, knowing very well she was joking.
"Tom," she said gently. She waited for him to get serious and leaned
forward to ensure she had his complete attention. "Malista's problems
are *not* your fault. Chakotay and you and the doctor are all working
toward the same goal. Teamwork. Don't take on blame and responsibility
that aren't yours."
"Now why does that sound familiar?" Tom mused aloud, his brow
crinkling.
"Because you said it to Malista. And to me. And probably to Harry at
some time or another."
"Oh! I knew I'd heard it somewhere." His smile came more naturally,
more easily.
"And as for Chakotay? Remember to *listen* to what Chakotay says---not
to what you *think* he's going to say. Don't read between the lines or
overanalyze." Torres knew that Chakotay and Paris had found some
mutual respect for each other in the last few months, but their
relationship was still somewhat uncomfortable. For both of them.
Especially when dealing each other outside the well-defined parameters
of their assigned duties.
She was confident that they could work out their differences, though
she wasn't optimistic enough to believe they would ever be the best of
friends. She was hoping for a simple friendship, hopefully with a
degree of affection or fondness, but she knew it would take time.
The two men were just too different in attitude and experience to find
common ground easily. She was hoping to be that common ground. Or
perhaps Malista could create one. She didn't really understand why Tom
was so worried about the younger woman. She hadn't attempted suicide
again. It didn't seem likely that she would. Maybe they were blowing
the whole problem out of proportion?
Paris checked his chronometer. "Got to go, B'Ella." He got to his
feet, his expression as composed as always, but she could see beyond
his mask now. He was still nervous and ill at ease though he covered
it well. Most people would have been totally fooled. A few months ago,
she would have been one of them.
"Not without a goodbye kiss," she commanded. She still wasn't terribly
comfortable with public displays of affection and felt no need for
them to provide her with a sense of security. But she was aware that
Tom seemed to need that kind of reassurance. And if he needed a
demonstration of the seriousness of her feelings for him, then she
would provide it---and anyone who objected could go tickle a targ!
"Right here in the messhall in front of the whole crew?" Tom tried to
sound horrified, though he couldn't contain the delighted grin that
lit his azure eyes. B'Elanna was a private person. He knew that she
was doing this for him. It made him feel truly connected to her. And
it let him know that she wasn't ashamed of him or their relationship,
a bit of comfort that he appreciated right now.
She narrowed her eyes at him demandingly. "Right here. Right now. One
kiss, Lt. Paris. That is an order." She stood next to him, not quite
leaning against him.
"But I outrank you," he purred in her ear, then leaned back to study
her reaction to his show of resistance.
"Oh." B'Elanna had been waiting for an opportunity to try a human
feminine tactic she'd observed, but never employed before. She'd
always thought it was silly. The time seemed right. Her moistened
lower lip came out just slightly and she looked up at him, widening
her brown eyes. To her pleased surprise, it worked. The last iota of<
br />
icy coolness in the blue eyes melted away.
Tom couldn't believe it. His eyes lit with joy. She was flirting with
him! Pouting? Risking looking silly? In public?
Well, sort of. There were only a handful of crew members present and
they were trying desperately to find their lunch edible so they
weren't paying much attention. The pilot's relationship with the chief
engineer was old news by now.
The alarm on his chronometer signaled, demanding his attention again.
"B'Ella, we're going to finish this later," he whispered. He bent and
captured her mouth for a quick but thorough kiss.
"Promises, promises!" she grumbled as he exited the messhall almost at
a dead run, unable to wipe the smile from his face. She resumed her
seat and made a face at the contents of her tray.
************************************
The doctor had made use of his holoemitter to attend the meeting in
Commander Chakotay's office which afforded more privacy than Sickbay
could offer. He was seated next to the first officer when Tom Paris
strode into the room, with a bright smile that was just beginning to
fade. It faded more and more quickly as he neared the table, giving
way to a polite, controlled curve of the lips.
Chakotay indicated the vacant chair across from himself. Paris sank
into it without speaking. The three of them studied each other for a
moment, each one wondering which of the others would begin.
Predictably, it was the Emergency Medical Holograph. "Shall I begin?"
Trials 04 Shadow's Trial Page 19
