Summary: P/T, J/C, There are times when one man's loss not is another man's gain; two persons' argument is somehow weaved into a totally different row.
Disclaimer: Voyager and its characters belong to Paramount Pictures. No infringement intended.
~ ~ ~
It was late night, or very early in the morning,
aboard the lost starship Voyager. Everything was calm,
since most of the crew worked during the days, even
though they actually couldn't tell the day and the
night apart, without dimmed lights and special assignments.
Voyager's night was false, and so was the conception that the mess hall should be quiet and empty until it was time for breakfast. It usually was too, but not this particular night. Two members of the crew entered it - and it was not because they wanted a sandwich.
"Computer, lights on! This is the last time you make me a part in one of your stupid holoprograms!" Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres slid down in a chair, furiously glaring at her boyfriend.
"Oh, come on! It wasn't that bad!" Tom Paris placed himself in the chair next to hers.
"Try to understand this; I will not be an ancient Roman woman, not a helpless girl who sings at 'Chez Hole in the Wall'. I don't want to be a damsel
in distress, nor a cowgirl. I don't want to wear some hopelessly dumb outfit. I simple will not play another part in a holonovel!"
"You'll miss it..."
"No! I can assure you I won't. I'll gladly go to the resort, or the
tennis court, even Sandrine's, the zoo or that drive-in movie theater of yours. I have nothing against sailing, climbing or hiking. I love to have picnics or dinner, even to dress up and dance waltz at some castle in the air... It's just the role-playing that you take too far!"
"What if I let you design your own character, will you be happy then?"
"I don't want to participate. I want to be myself around you. You've promised me that."
He reached out to touch her, but regretted it, and drew back his hand when she shot him a grim look. "It's just for fun. It's not like I want you to be someone else, you can't possibly think that. But if you simply don't want to do it, I won't force you."
"Good." She'd cooled down a bit; adopted a less harsh tone of voice. She slowly stroked with a hand over her damp hair. "Why is it you want to have me in every crazy little program you make?"
"I just want to spend time with you... On several different levels. You understand?"
"I think so."
Tom nodded slowly, gazing around the mess hall. "Should we take a look in the pots?"
"Those?" B'Elanna pointed at three metallic pots placed on the counter, most likely to get cool.
"Might be something we can have as a snack."
Reluctantly, she rose from her chair and followed him to the fairly big pots.
"I think it's another round of that soup Neelix makes. You know, the one with tomatoes, carrots and haricots."
She frowned. "If you're really going to eat that, I hope you've planned to do it here."
"Why?" Tom practically had his head in the pot to the left, while stirring in it with a ladle he'd found on the counter.
"Unless you prefer to take it to your quarters and eat it alone, of course."
"Won't you come with me?"
B'Elanna rolled her eyes, balled her fists and took a deep breath. "I told you; I don't want to go to your quarters, because I have no uniform there. And I definitely don't want to mingle with the Alpha shift dressed like this!"
She motioned to the sleeveless, knee-lenght, wine-red cloth she wore, complete with a stump of golden string functioning as a belt. And not to forget, a pair of tennis shoes. She'd refused to wear the sandals. "I can't believe you got me into this!"
He finally looked up from the soup in the pot. "It's not my fault you can't pass a group of three persons who happened to be fixing a lock two doors away from your quarters."
"They are a part of my staff! I don't want them to see me like this."
"If they'd notice you at all, they'd probably think it was some kind of evening wear."
"Not when my company's outfit consists of green pants combined with a white sack with holes for head and arms!"
"It's not a sack! This is a T-shirt, made out of linen."
"It is a sleeveless potato sack for all I care! I'm not going back to my quarters until they're gone."
"Come on, B'Elanna!" It was his turn to roll his eyes. "This time could've been better spent at the holodeck."
"I agree, it could have been better spent. Just not on board a gigantic seafaring, wooden ship, the seconds before it'll get caught near the eye of the storm."
"I thought you'd find it exiting!"
She slammed her fist against the counter. "But I didn't, okay? If you really want to spend time with me, you could have used the time it took you to make that program to see me."
At first he looked a little surprised, then crushed and unhappy. "Sometimes I wonder if it would be better to simply not talk to one another for a week or so, instead of wasting time on pointless arguments."
"Are you thinking about the Captain and Chakotay?"
"Must have been a heck of a misunderstanding between them."
"Why does it have to be a misunderstanding? Couldn't it just have been a pointless fight, you know, like the ones we apparently always engage in!"
"You want to know why I keep making those programs? Because one day, I know there will be one you won't be able to reject. And every time there is one you don't like, I can scratch it from the list of possible ones."
B'Elanna's eyes grew round in surprise. "Is that a promise?"
"Yes, and every time there is something you don't like, I get to know you a bit better. And one day, I swear, I will know you as good as you know yourself, and that is the day I'll make you the perfect holoprogram!" He took a deep breath, and decided to chance the subject before he could interpret her expression to the worse.
"I wonder what Janeway and Chakotay really disagreed, or fought, about. The rumors says they haven't traded two words for the last few days."
"They'll solve it sooner or later. One of them will have to eat humble pie, simply because they both know the ship can't function with the two highest ranked officers out of sync."
"True."
"Oh, you actually agree with me for once!" B'Elanna began to pace a span of a few meters in front of him. Her desire to fight had apparently flamed up again. "Otherwise you gladly contradict, no matter if we're in the ready room or alone in the mess hall, of all places!"
"It was you who wanted to go to the mess after running out of the holodeck, just because those horrible staff members were there. And they are probably gone by now!"
"Can't you understand that I'm embarrassed?" She stopped in mid-step, near the three pots. "I don't want them to see me dressed like this. Then they'd probably think that I like to play games, and before I know it, I'm participating in a ship-wide role-play about the life on an eighteenth century castle!"
Tom chuckled dryly. "You're really fixed on this holodeck thing, aren't you?"
"Because it reached its peak toda-" She opened her arms, cutting herself off when the back of her hand made contact with something hard. The pot to the left. Inexorable, it tipped over on the counter, spreading its red content over the same.
B'Elanna watched with dismay as multicolored chunks fell down on the floor, smeared in the dark red liquid. "You still want to eat that?"
Tom glanced at her and sighed, but knew better than to complain when she was in her element. He looked at the sludge which had been the climax of her anger, and was glad it wasn't him who'd been the recipient. "We better clean this up."
She nodded, the red spots which had been evident during their entire conversation finally paled down.
"What should we tell Neelix? A third of the lunch is spoiled."
Tom let his gaze sweep over the floor; it was cleaner than it'd been before. The now empty pot once again stood on its place. One couldn't tell the content had been all over the counter and a good piece of the floor. "We have a couple of hours to make something up."
B'Elanna placed a hand on the counter, glad to notice that her palm didn't stick to it. "I really need to get to my quarters now."
"To chance clothes and get a few hours of sleep?" He nodded at her stained dress, then took a good look at his own outfit. "Guess I should do the same."
"About the holoprograms... I might take you on that offer to program one myself, after all."
"I'll look forward to it."
They began to make their way to the exit, fairly exhausted. "Computer, lights off!"
The doors had barely slid open to let them through, when tom turned to B'Elanna. "There isn't any chance at all you'll let me choose the outfits?"
~ ~ ~
A few hours later, a pretty tried couple entered the mess hall to have their breakfast. A stream of people followed their example, among them Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay. She acknowledged him with a small nod, trying to shake off the feeling that everyone's eyes rested upon her.
Mere meters in front of the Captain and the First officer, Tom somehow managed to bump into B'Elanna, making her drop the apple she'd just taken from the bowl.
"Oh, sorry." He bent down and picked up the apple, scrutinizing it. "I don't think you should eat this."
She balled her fists. "How can you be so clumsy? I could just strangle..."
"Remember the soup, B'Elanna?" Tom got out through gritted teeth, placing the apple in her hand.
"Right."
A quick kiss and a new apple later, they sat down at an empty table, the same as a few hours before, laughing and talking.
Dark eyes followed the entire course, only to skip to a certain red- head for the umpteenth time the last couple of days. She stood just a few feet away from him.
"Look at them. How can they do that?" Chakotay mumbled, mostly to himself. He was totally unaware about the real course, bordered with blood, sweat and tears.
"Just kiss and make up you mean?" Kathryn answered, to Chakotay's great surprise. It turned out to be the first sentences they'd exchanged for days, that didn't contain the words 'impulse', or 'screen'.
"I don't know about you, commander. But I'm ready to do the same..."
THE END
This story was entered in the "Mixed Doubles" contest 2003;
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