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Trials 02 Harry's Trial Page 2


  B'Elanna's brown eyes traveled up and down Paris' fit body. "Maybe I'll take the debt out in trade."

  "What?" Paris and Kim chorused, eyes widening. Kim looked slightly shocked. Paris was suspicious. Shadow smothered a laugh behind both hands, her eyes lit with amusement. She'd served with Torres for two years on the smaller Maquis ship and knew her sense of humor.

  "Well," B'Elanna drawled, "You're in good shape and I could always use extra hands for cleaning, degaussing, and stripping down equipment in Engineering." She got to her feet and grabbed Tom's arm. "Come on, Flyboy! If you're buying, I'll try that---what is that stuff you always want to eat?"

  "Moo goo gai pan," Tom replied. "With Chow Mein noodles."

  Harry exchanged glances with Malista as he let her precede him in Tom's wake. "Replicated Chinese food?"

  Malista shrugged and walked beside Harry, trying once more to become invisible as they traveled the ship's corridors.

  ***********************

  As the evening wore on, the strain began to show. They weren't a foursome. They were a couple, plus one, plus one. Although Paris persisted in treating Malista and Harry as if they were a pair, it was awkward. Tom and B'Elanna were getting to know each other as a couple and concentrating a lot of attention on each other. Malista

  Shadow, on the other hand, seemed content to be a silent audience.

  During dinner Paris embarrassed Harry by bragging on him like a proud older brother until Kim finally kicked him under the table, ignoring Tom's shocked look and B'Elanna's fierce grin.

  Malista seemed uncomfortable when Tom continued to try to draw her into a conversation with Harry. Sometimes it seemed she drifted off a melancholy distance in her mind until Paris or Torres said or did something outrageous or inflammatory---which they did more often than usual---to recall her attention. The only voice she invariably

  responded to was Tom's.

  Harry could understand that. Tom was being charming and trying to distract Malista and ensure that everyone had a good time. Tom was always charming and women constantly sought his attention and approval.

  Sometimes it could be really annoying.

  Harry Kim was beginning to feel invisible himself. It was as if Malista didn't hear anything that he said. She didn't seem to feel comfortable with him at all and, for the first time, in a long time, he was beginning to feel tongue-tied and self-conscious.

  The contrast between himself and Tom had never been so one-sided and obvious to Harry before. He felt young, inexperienced, and gauche sitting next to the epitome of cool, handsome sophistication. He tried to think of an acceptable excuse to call it a night and leave.

  "Harry?" It was Tom, in a teasing mode. "Tom Paris to Harry Kim. Are you out there, Mr. Kim?"

  Kim looked up to see he was the focus of all eyes at the table, even Malista's. He was a little embarrassed at being caught daydreaming. "What? Sorry, did I miss something?"

  "Just the last fifteen minutes of my brilliant monologue on the creative ramifications of chocolate as an art form," Paris informed him solemnly. "Ambient temperature plays a large part, as well as texture, style---"

  Harry stuck his index finger in his ear and wiggled it around. "What? I swear if the word chocolate had been mentioned, I would have heard it. I have automatic tracking sensors when it comes to chocolate."

  Torres rolled her eyes and included Malista with her glance. "These two get weirder as the day wears on. And what is this thing about chocolate? Never mind!" She interrupted before either man could answer. "That isn't what he was talking about anyway, Harry. Tom was asking when your next concert is going to be."

  Kim tried to concentrate on the question. "Sue Nicoletti and I are trying to round up more instrumentalists. There are only so many numbers you can perform with an oboe and clarinet duet." His dark eyes opened wide as he remembered something that had slipped his mind. "Oh, T-o-o-o-m!" he crowed.

  "Don't look at me!" Paris said, hiding his face behind his hands with false modesty. "I'm not ready to play the piano in public." He held his hands in front of his chest and interlocked his fingers as if limbering them. "Give me at least six months of practice and I'll play The Minute Waltz in forty-five seconds at the next talent show."

  "Now there's an accomplishment!" Torres snorted.

  "I've gone to your concerts, Harry. You're all very talented," Shadow murmured.

  "Thanks." Kim said. "I don't remember seeing you there." The minute he heard the words come out of his mouth, he wanted to recall them. He hoped she wouldn't take it the wrong way. He hadn't meant to insult her.

  "I was trying not to be seen," she replied noncommittally . “I'm good at it."

  "How can anyone not see six feet something of pretty woman?" Paris asked derisively, casting a slightly critical look in Harry's direction.

  "You'd be surprised," Torres said. "She can disappear into a crowd faster than anyone I've ever seen. How do you do that, Malista?"

  Malista got to her feet as she said, "Magic! And I'm going to use it now to disappear to my quarters."

  Tom and Harry rose as a matter of courtesy and Tom gave Harry a speaking look.

  Harry regarded Malista politely. "If you'd like, I'll walk you to your door," he volunteered.

  Unfortunately, Malista had intercepted Tom's unspoken signal and knew that it wasn't Kim's idea. "No, thank you, Harry. You stay here and enjoy yourself. I'm a big girl, I can find my way home." Before she'd finished her last sentence, she was walking out the exit.

  Harry shrugged at Tom. "I tried."

  Paris, somewhat exasperated with his friend's lack of success, turned to Torres. "I'll be right back. I want to make sure she isn't upset about---anything."

  B'Elanna started to protest, but swallowed her words as Tom darted out of the holodeck in pursuit of Malista Shadow. She stared at Harry Kim. "Well?"

  "B'Elanna, I tried to be friendly. I think she just doesn't like me," the ensign replied as much to her expression as to her words.

  "I couldn't seem to say one thing right tonight either."

  Torres patted his hand comfortingly. "It's okay, Harry. I don't think she dislikes you. We just don't know her very well. And she's had a hard time lately. Maybe--- she felt uncomfortable because we know too much about her."

  "That might be it," Kim replied unhappily. "I hope she's not too upset."

  ***********************

  Paris finally caught up with Shadow in the deserted corridor twenty feet short of her door. "Malista! Wait, I want to talk to you."

  She whirled to face him. "About what?" Her face, no longer its former inexpressive mask, revealed that she was furious. "What do we need to talk about this time, Tom?"

  The lieutenant spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "For starters, what are you so annoyed about?" he asked gently. "I thought you were having a good time."

  "I was---sort of. Until it became obvious---do we have to talk about this now? I am tired. And I'm trying to get accustomed to changing over to the Alpha shift so I need to get some sleep."

  Tom drew closer, but didn't attempt to touch her. He leaned against the wall next to her and studied her carefully. "Come on, little sister, what's the real problem?"

  "You're pushing me, Tom," she said bluntly.

  He widened his blue eyes and appeared positively cherubic with his blonde, boyish handsomeness and sweet smile. "Who, me?"

  She didn't respond to his attempt at humor. She leaned against the wall opposite him and crossed her arms.

  Seeing she was serious, Paris crossed his own arms, and mimicked her serious expression. "Okay. Tell me what I did---so I won't do it again."

  She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip, gnawing at it for a moment as if mentally composing her next words. She opened her eyes. "There've been a lot of major changes in my life in the last two weeks. Actually, my whole life has been on hold for the last five years. I have to start over---but I need to do it at my own pace."

  "And I'm rushing you?"

&nbs
p; "You want me to be normal. You want me to get over---" her voice broke as she fought to retain her composure. "I told you so much I'd never told anyone---not even Niko. I understand you're my friend and you want me to get over what happened on Huldon III. You want me to get over Niko's death. But, Tom, I can't just suddenly start acting

  like everyone else on this ship. I need time. I don't even know who I was before---much less who I am now. I'm working with Commander Chakotay in regaining a sense of myself, but I'm not ready---." She stopped. A single tear was making its way down her left cheek.

  "Malista," Tom said, stepping toward her. His right hand came up and tenderly wiped the tear away. "I won't push. But I won't let you run and hide in your quarters all the time either. I won't chase you, if you don't run. If I promise not to push, you have to promise not to retreat. Okay?"

  She nodded. They turned and he walked her to her door. She hit the keypad with her entry code and it slid open. "Tom, just one more thing," she said as he turned to go.

  "What?"

  "Don't try to pair me off with Harry," she said pointedly. "It will only embarrass both of us. I don't think he likes me very much. And he doesn't have to like me. But he does like you and B'Elanna. I like you and B'Elanna, but I don't want to be a fifth wheel. You

  don't have to invite me everywhere you go. You might be my big brother---but you aren't my keeper. You are not responsible for me."

  Tom raised his eyebrows, trying and failing to look innocent. "I

  don't know what you're talking about, Sis."

  "I'm talking about the way you kept pushing me at him, as if I was his date. Stop it. You can't expect him to like me, just because you do. I don't need anyone being nice to me because they feel sorry for me. I don't want to make him ---uncomfortable."

  "Harry's my friend. If you spend time with me, you'll

  automatically spend time with him---and B'Elanna. It would be nice if you three could find some common ground and become friends. But I won't push it."

  "Yeah, sure." She shut the door in his face.

  Paris smirked to himself as he returned to Sandrine's. "This could get interesting."

  ***********************

  Chakotay watched with a concerned frown as Crewman Shadow moved restlessly about his quarters, her arms and hands fluttering as if she wasn't sure what to do with Them. They'd met daily for the last two weeks in Sickbay. She'd never acted this way before.

  He was used to restless behavior from B'Elanna Torres whose near constant motion stemmed from impatience, anger, or excitement. With Malista Shadow, he was surprised and dismayed to sense that her restlessness was caused by anxiety---or fear. Speaking quietly, in his most soothing voice, he recalled her attention. "Malista? This isn't our first counseling session. What's the problem? You can't

  seem to relax."

  Her eyes jumped to his and she suddenly froze as if just recognizing that she wasn't behaving 'normally'. "I don't know." That seemed to make her even more anxious as she tried to figure out her own motivations.

  He raised his eyebrows, but remained seated and waited for her to sit down again. She didn't. She came to stand behind the chair. He wondered if she had put the chair between them deliberately, or unconsciously, for protection. "Are you having trouble sleeping?" He

  offered her a non-threatening subject for discussion.

  She just stared at him. Her mind was nowhere near this room. He moved to lean forward in his chair. She reacted as if he'd pulled a weapon, jumping back two feet and wrapping her arms around herself.

  Chakotay froze in place. "Malista? What are you afraid of?"

  She turned away from him, leaning against the wall and hugging herself tightly as if she could hold her feelings in, but the words burst out against her will. "I don't like being here alone with you. I don't know why I feel this way. I feel nervous and scared and I don't know why. And I feel stupid for feeling this way."

  "What is it you think I'm going to do?" As he spoke, the first officer got to his feet slowly and increased the distance between them till he was standing at the opposite end of the room to lessen her sense of being threatened.

  Tears were coursing down her cheeks, she was trembling from the effort of holding herself still. "Nothing. I don't know. That makes it worse. I don't know what I'm afraid of. I can't seem to be around people without being afraid."

  "You're afraid when you're around people? Or around men?"

  Her head snapped up and she stared at him. "Around men? You think I---I'm afraid---? You might be right, Commander." Having identified some part of her fear seemed to calm her. "Maybe it's as simple as that. I'm afraid of men---or at least uncomfortable." She dropped her arms to her sides.

  Chakotay took a step toward her, his hands behind his back.

  "Think about it, Malista. Are you afraid of me? You served on my

  Maquis ship for two years and on this ship for three. Have you ever

  heard anything about me--- my relationships with women---that would

  lead you to fear me? To fear that I would hurt you?"

  "No," she whispered. "I'm sorry, Commander. I'm not being very

  rational."

  "Feelings aren't usually rational. Are you feeling better now?"

  "Yes."

  "I had you come here because it's private. If you feel

  uncomfortable being in my quarters, where would you like to hold our

  counseling sessions? Would you rather meet in your quarters---or in

  Sickbay?" he suggested.

  She drew a shaky breath. "No. Now that I know what was making me

  jumpy, I can control it. Shouldn't we be sitting down?" She plopped

  into the chair.

  Chakotay flashed his dimples at her in a quick smile. He

  returned to his own seat. "If you want to. Now, let's talk about

  this. You functioned without apparent difficulty for several years.

  Now you suddenly develop a debilitating fear. What triggered it?"

  "What do you mean? I haven't been comfortable with men since---

  since I was raped by the Cardassians at Huldon III. Before that, I

  was never around men---other than family or friends close enough to

  be family."

  Chakotay considered that statement. "But you never reacted as

  strongly to being alone with a man as you just did. What's changed?"

  "Niko died," she blurted. She covered her face with her hands

  and rocked her body back and forth in the chair.

  "Crewman Dishon stayed very close to you, didn't he? I remember

  you usually worked together as a team. And if you were off duty and

  out of your quarters, he was always there. If not actually with you,

  then he wasn't far away."

  She nodded slowly and dropped her hands to gaze at him blankly.

  "He always took care of me. He kept other men away so they wouldn't

  bother me."

  "Were you and Dishon lovers?"

  Shadow jumped at the question as if jolted by a shock. "No! We

  wouldn't--- we never---he wouldn't!"

  "It's okay, Malista. It was just a question, not a judgment.

  I'm trying to understand your relationship with him. After your

  shared experience at Huldon III, you two formed a bond. You withdrew

  from dealing with people and he helped you handle the ones you had to

  be around. Is that a fair summary?" the first officer asked.

  She nodded slowly. "I don't like to feel---trapped. Crowded by a

  lot of people. I didn't ---don't like men looking at me. It makes me

  uncomfortable. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. When men came

  around and bothered me, Niko made them stop. He made other people---

  men leave me alone."

  "How did he do that?" Chakotay knew the answer. He wanted to

  know if she knew it too.

&n
bsp; "He'd warn them to leave me alone. Sometimes--- he'd fight them.

  Sometimes I think he told them---" She broke off and a flush of red

  crept up her neck to her face. "I think he told them that I was his.

  That may be why you thought we---but we didn't! He wasn't interested

  in me that way. He always felt guilty that he hadn't been able to

  protect me from the Cardassians. That wasn't rational either. There

  was nothing he could do---nothing anyone could do."

  "So he kept other men from bothering you, even here on Voyager?"

  "Yes. But it wasn't---he didn't do much. I mean it wasn't

  necessary. My size intimidates people. Being over six feet tall---and

  also I'm not exactly what most men consider feminine. I don't dress

  up or anything. And I don't---didn't smile or talk to anyone so most

  people left me alone. He made sure everyone else kept their distance.

  I don't like---to be touched," she added hesitantly.

  "Did Niko ever touch you? A brotherly hug? A kiss on the cheek?"

  Chakotay inquired.

  "No, why?"

  "What about Lt. Paris?" Chakotay's instincts told him that he

  was getting closer to the root of her problem, but he couldn't put

  his finger on it.

  "Tom?" She was puzzled, but calm and had relaxed enough to sit

  back in her chair. Even mentioning the pilot's name seemed to bolster

  her spirits. "What do you mean? What about him?"

  "You touch him. I've seen you hold his hand, even hug him."

  "He's---he's different," she stammered. "He's my friend."

  "I thought Niko was your friend."

  "He was, but he---" She ground to a halt. "Niko was there---at

  Huldon III. He knew---he saw what the Cardassians did to me."

  "You told Tom about it."

  She was becoming agitated, her hands moving restlessly from her

  lap to clench the chair's arms and back again. "That's not the same

  thing. Niko didn't think of me as a woman---I was his responsibility.

  His albatross."

  "Was that his opinion or yours?"

  His question made her stop to think before answering. "I don't