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"Remedy through Dance"
by VoyGirl
February 2004
She could hardly swallow. Her breath was ragged, her legs shook helplessly and she knew she
looked nervous. The last part of the away mission had been a complete failure, and when
Nicoletti and Ayala had been taken out by rough turbulence, she was left alone to tend to the
fluctuating warp core and the oozing gel packs. To top it off, she had the fly the ship through a
field of scattered debris.
Finally, when even the klaxon lights had started to give up on her, when the transporters no
longer worked, when her lower legs were enveloped by a cool mist, Voyager finally appeared.
In the last second, like she always seemed to do. B’Elanna had never really dared to trust that
phenomenon, not even since her most tangible brush with death mere months ago. It had been
on the Klingon Day of Honor, and occasionally, she still woke up in the middle of the night,
gasping for air.
The two injured members of her away team had been beamed to sickbay immediately, but
B’Elanna had insisted on remaining inside the damaged shuttle, fixing the little she could, the
best she could. She knew she would face days of ordered time off, and though she trusted most
of her crew to be competent enough, she preferred to do most things herself. She gave the
hyperspanner at her feet one look, then slumped herself heavily against the wall. She wanted to
take the tool, but her body didn’t second that decision. She’d have to say that most things on
board the shuttle not were repairable.
When she was sure that her pulse had gone down, and her breathing was somewhat stabile again,
she took a deep breath and straightened her soiled tank top out. Ordering the hatch, that
astonishingly enough still worked, open, she knew she would walk right out into one of
Voyager’s impeccable shuttle bays, where most of the bridge crew would have gathered to
welcome her back. She had to steel herself, had to summon as much strength as she possibly
could. After all, she was the closest thing to a Klingon warrior the ship had.
She forced the lump, which constantly seemed to form and re-form in her throat down, drew
another load of somewhat fresh air down into her lungs, and took the first step out into the very
light shuttle bay.
When she finally faced the Captain, her hands shivered slightly and the tip of her fingers tingled,
so she folded her arms, hoping that no one had seen.
The Captain, Chakotay, Tuvok and Tom were all waiting for her when she came out. The three
highest ranking officers congratulated her on a successful – though a little dogged by
misfortune – mission, and then they left her, strolling off to deal with their own concerns.
However, Tom refused to leave her alone. Apparently, he didn’t have any other concern to
deal with.
He cleared his throat when she looked at him, expectantly. The illumination in the shuttle bay
hurt her eyes, which unfortunately formed a direct connection to her aching head.
She just wanted to get out of there.
“So… How are you?”
“I’m fine,” she heard herself say, but quickly reproached herself afterwards. She had repeated
those sentences so many times that the words had lost all meaning. Well, once she had started
talking, she had to stick to that version, she decided. “Just a little tired.”
Tom gave her a sympathetic look. This, she noticed, also held a great deal of disbelief.
“Are you sure? You’re rather pale -cheeked.”
“I’ll be fine. I’m on my way to sickbay right now.”
“Oh, good…” His eyes narrowed until they were just thin slits, and he studied her closely,
thoughtfully through them. “About that date tonight, which you’ve probably forgotten all
about…”
B’Elanna frowned a little, yet she managed to groan audibly at the same time. Just as he’d
expected, she had forgotten all about it.
“I knew it,” Tom continued, neglecting to use his most triumphant tone of voice.
“You’ve just been on a strenuous mission, so I understand if you want to cancel it.”
“I could really need some sleep.” She had meant to sound grateful, but ended up sounding both
relieved and pleased.
“All right. That’s… All right. We might see each other for breakfast, or lunch?”
“Perhaps,” she answered weakly and gave a small nod. Immediately, her entire forehead seemed
to explode in a sudden attack of sharp pain. She was definitely not fine at all. Tom didn’t notice,
though, since he walked out of the shuttle bay, probably in search of something a little more
enriching than the unbalanced conversation with B’Elanna.
The shuttle bay seemed unnaturally quiet and empty when Tom had left, B’Elanna stated when
her headache had subsided a little, and she had regained control over her senses again.
This time she had neglected something too; cooped up in her own world of uncharacteristically
strong emotions, she had failed to notice the disappointment Tom had presented.
The following day, B’Elanna awoke well after breakfast. After a hypospray and several hours of
sleep, she was certain she’d feel better, only to find out that the headache still was there, though
only more dull and enervating. She also learned that she’d slept in an awkward position, which
had made her neck stiff and sore.
An hour later, she placed her lunch tray next to Harry Kim’s and slumped down in an empty
chair. “This is not my year” she announced, and reached out to, for the fiftieth time that
morning, rub the back of her neck.
“Let me guess; the leola surprise was the last straw?”
“Almost,” B’Elanna muttered. “The correct answer would be: everything.”
Harry had just begun to account for his plans for the evening, when the ship suddenly shook so
violently, that half of B’Elanna’s leola surprise slid of her plate, further alongside the tabletop
and down on the floor.
“Whoa, what do you think that was?” Harry asked, stunned.
B’Elanna didn’t answer, instead she rose so quickly – and tactlessly – that the other half of her
lunch met the same destiny as the first. “I have to check on the core!”
“But everything seems to run as smoothly as before,” Harry commented. He spoke into thin air.
The same evening, B’Elanna had bore in mind the fact that she’d turned down, and especially
forgotten, her date with Tom the night before. To make that up, and to celebrate that the
headache had reduced to a simple pressure behind her eyes, B’Elanna had insisted on Tom
showing her his new holoprogram that night instead, and of course, he didn’t object.
B’Elanna even booked the holodeck in her name.
When she arrived, a few minutes before the appointed time, she felt pretty alive again, and for the
first time she regretted cancelling the night before. Then she remembered the pain, how her body
refused to relieve her of the remnants of the shock, how a big piece of drifting rock had
appeared directly in front of the nearly unmanageable shuttle, relentlessly approaching.
How scared she had been when she thought back on those seconds before Voyager had arrived.
Feeling another lump form deep in her throat at the thought, she quickly entered the holodeck,
hoping that she would get something else to think about.
And she did. The holographic scene for the night was a dark sky, decorated with a crescent moon
and a few twinkling stars. She had stepped right out on a wooden platform and, much to her
surprise, she noticed that there was water to both sides of it. The water was as dark as the sky
above, as silent and perfectly sill.
She wouldn’t’ mind the gurgling sound of water lapping against wood, but all she could hear was
a soft stringed bow instrument. From where the sound originated she could not see in the dim
lightning; just the pale moonlight and a couple of candles on a laid table.
Tom waited for her at the table, just five or six feet to her right. He was still in uniform, and had
sat down in one of the, quite pathetic, Windsor chairs, reading a PADD.
B’Elanna looked down at her own dark skirt and azure top, feeling helplessly overdressed.
Since she couldn’t turn around and change, she decided her outfit had to do, and approached
the table.
When she said hi, Tom looked up from his PADD, startled. Hadn’t he expected her to show up?
“Hi! I was jus going through a report,” he said and placed the report in question beside his plate.
Since the table was round, there was no edge he could push it towards.
“You look love—“ Before he had a chance to finish the sentence, his PADD hit the wooden
platform with a hollow sound. Somehow, he had knocked it down while he’d risen.
B’Elanna literally jumped, sucked in a sharp breath and opened her eyes wide.
“Is it just me, or are you unusually jumpy these days?”
She stared at him, trying to form a coherent sentence that she could place in her mouth, but all
she could think of were a few well practised phrases regarding the weather.
“I guess that shuttle ride took its toll,” she finally said.
“That’s how it is for everyone. You should get a little more rest.”
“I can’t rest, I… All right, I’ll rest.” She realized she’d lost that round to her own body. Besides,
she didn’t want to bother Tom with more talk about unpleasant shuttle rides, since she was
afraid of stirring up old memories about Caldik Prime.
Compliant, she sat down at the table and ate her riz colonial in peace.
“Would you like to dance?” Tom asked her nearly an hour later. The dinner had turned out well,
when they both had tip-toed around everything regarding shuttles and accidents.
While B’Elanna let Tom led her to the other half of the platform, which was empty, she knew
they would have to deal with those topics of discussion too.
“You were quite scared, weren’t you?”
Knowing what he was talking about, she spat, “Of course I was! Why?”
“I saw that you tried to hide it.”
“You don’t understand. I have to be strong, it’s always been like that.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t accept help.”
“I have to be able to rely on myself.” She was clutching his hand far harder than what was
necessary.
“Would you like to lead too?” Tom sighed. “It’s all right to be a little… less tense some times.”
B’Elanna appreciated the way he chose to go around the word ‘weaker’. “Is that so?”
“You can rely on me too, you know.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you as stiff as these floorboards?” He stomped his foot, indicating that he was
referring to the hard wood beneath them.
“I don’t really know,” she answered weakly, and clutched his hand even harder.
Mildly, Tom forced her head down, until it was resting on his chest. He quietly ordered the music
to slow down.
After a while, B’Elanna was fully relaxed. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and sighed
contently.
At the same time, a series of shakings spread trough the ship, deck by deck. It made sleeping
crewmembers fall out of their beds, working crash to the floor. Janeway fell from the captain’s
seat. Neelix dropped a big can which contained the breakfast for the next day. The Doctor
slipped with the dermal regenerator, and removed ensign –‘s tattoo instead of the plasma burn.
Every light on board flickered, including the holographic platform, but neither B’Elanna nor
Tom noticed anything.
The invisible string quartet could be distorted into an orchestra of fighting cats. They wouldn’t
tell the difference.
The holodeck could malfunction and suddenly run the program ‘the Alps during high season’,
instead of the platform on water. They wouldn’t look up.
They had their own music, inside. Had their own scenery, behind their eyelids.
B’Elanna had found a good spot to rest her ear against; right above Tom’s heart. She focused on
the steady rhythm, smiling into his uniform.
Let's pretend that they're dancing...
The End
26-29 February 2004
frky_vg@kittymail.com
Wow… It’s been a long time since I did a P/T romance fic quite like this…
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