Trials 04 Shadow's Trial Page 19

  "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?"