Work Text:
“B’Elanna!”
“For the last time, Harry, I’m not talking to him!”
Young Ensign Harry Kim struggled to keep up with the fast pace of Chief Engineer and half-Klingon B’Elanna Torres as she stormed down the hall towards Engineering.
“B’Elanna, it’s my fault he missed that dinner date with you last night! I swear, it had nothing to do with him!”
“Stop making excuses for him, Harry!”
“No, really—,” Harry started, but before he could finish, B’Elanna stopped and whirled around to face him so quickly he nearly ran smack into her.
“Harry, this is the fourth time in half as many weeks that he has canceled a date. If he’s really not going to put any effort into this relationship, then neither am I!”
“B’Elanna, please, just give him another chance--,”
“No, Harry. And you can tell him just that, if he still cares,” she snapped, getting more into the poor man’s face than he really deserved before turning and entering Engineering.
Harry sighed in frustration at his two best friends. He lowered his head in thought as he headed back to the Mess. B’Elanna had walked in, seen Harry sitting with Tom, and stormed out. After repeatedly assuring Tom that Harry going after her in place of himself was a much better idea, he had raced to catch up. What was he going to tell Tom?
Harry knew B’Elanna well, better than any of the other former Maquis members of the crew, if only because his first encounter with any of them had involved him getting transported off Voyager and onto the Occampan planet with her. She had called him ‘Starfleet’ then, and she still did sometimes, but never when she was upset like this.
Their relationship was unique, Harry thought as he walked. She was a good friend to have, especially for someone who tended to be as soft-spoken as Harry was. They complemented each other well, he realized. B’Elanna was fierce, and often had trouble keeping her temper, and Harry was smart, but had difficulty showing it at times. But she never really doubted him, and vice versa. It was an understated friendship, one built on mutual respect and understanding, one that was often overlooked, but one that was always there, and always would be.
When Harry reached the Mess, Tom was nowhere in sight. In fact, there was hardly anyone around. Just as Harry was turning to leave, a voice rang out from the far side of the room.
“Harry! Aren’t you going to eat anything?”
Harry spun at the familiar voice. Immediately, his eyes landed on the tattooed Commanding Officer sitting in the corner of the room, sipping coffee, PADD in hand.
“Uh, I’m not really hungry right now, sir. I think I’ll just head to the bridge a little early.”
“I passed Tom on my way in here, said he was going on duty early, too. Something the matter?”
Leave it to Chakotay to sense a problem from a passing statement, Harry thought. He considered telling the Commander it was nothing, but then remembered he still hadn’t thought up a solution to this dilemma yet. He sighed heavily before plopping unceremoniously into the chair adjacent to Chakotay.
“Actually, Tom and B’Elanna have been fighting.”
“Again?” Chakotay asked with a wry smile.
“Yes. But this time she seems really mad. I mean, more than normal.”
“You think she’s angry enough to stop seeing him?”
“I think it’s just possible. She says she won’t talk to him anymore.”
“Well, Harry, I don’t see why that upsets you so much. I know you and Tom are good friends, but involving yourself so deeply in their affairs isn’t exactly healthy.”
Harry sighed again. “I know, but I can’t help thinking it’s partly my fault they’re fighting.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean two of the last four times he’s had to cancel a date was because of me! Maybe if I distance myself from Tom a little, he and B’Elanna will be able to spend more time together.”
“Harry, I doubt pushing Tom away is going to help things, especially since B’Elanna isn’t talking to him. But getting yourself more involved isn’t going to help either. My advice is support Tom, but don't get directly involved in the fight. Be there for him when he needs you, but don’t fight his fight for him.”
Harry thought for a moment, but couldn’t come up with a better plan. He nodded solemnly. “You’re right, Commander. I can’t think of any other way to be of any use.”
Chakotay chuckled lightly before moving to stand up. “That’s the spirit, Harry. Come on, we’re on duty.”
--
Tom absentmindedly punched in commands at the helm, both himself and the ship running on autopilot while the actual pilot was desperately trying to keep himself from emotional turmoil.
It was true that Tom Paris had stronger feelings for the engineer-genius than he had ever had for anyone else, but that was just the problem; he didn’t know what to do with what he felt. Lately, he’d been distracting himself by spending extra time on the holodeck, attempting simultaneously not to think of B’Elanna and to think of what he would do with her the next time they were together.
After Harry had run off after B’Elanna in his honor, he hadn’t stuck around for very long. Deciding to get a head start on Bridge duty, he had relieved his replacement early to many tired thanks from the young ensign.
Captain Janeway was on duty at the moment, taking pleasure in sipping her coffee slowly, trying to savor every last drop. With nothing better to do, she watched Lieutenant Paris as he mindlessly fed commands into the computer. Something was off about him today, and she had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with B’Elanna’s curt reply to the Captain’s usual check-in just a few minutes earlier.
Kathryn had developed a certain respect for the young helmsman over the years; the son of an admiral, an excellent, reasonably-reputable officer who put his best work into whatever he tried. He had a tendency to compete with everything he did; he always had to be the best. Kathryn suspected it must have to do with an underlying need to prove himself to his father. In a way, she felt sorry for him. It was certainly one of the reasons she had taken him with her to apprehend Maquis fugitives. Some part of her thought to help him mend his record, to show that he really was a person worth being proud of.
“Mr. Paris,” she called after a moment’s hesitation.
The man snapped out of his trance at the sound of the Captain’s voice.
It was clear that not long after their unscheduled detour into the Delta Quadrant, Tom was beginning to feel an unspoken fondness for the captain. She had, after all, taken him under her wing, a gesture he had originally taken with a grain of salt, but that he now recognized as a token of her faith in him, an act that he was unbelievably thankful for.
“Would you join me in my ready room?”
Tom hesitantly followed her into her office and stood a few feet in front of her as she leaned comfortably on the edge of her desk.
“Is there a problem, Captain?”
“You tell me,” Janeway answered in a fashion reminiscent of a high school principal.
“Captain?”
“It’s clear to me that you and B’Elanna are experiencing some . . . relationship problems.”
Tom shifted uncomfortably, but Janeway continued.
“I haven’t seen it affect your work yet, Tom, and expect it not to.”
“Of course, Captain.”
“Good,” Janeway gave her most motherly smile as she took the step up to the next level to lean against the rail. “Do you have any idea how you’re going to resolve this conflict?”
Tom held back a sigh and responded, “No, Captain, I’m afraid I don’t have a clue.”
“Then maybe you wouldn’t mind a bit of advice from me,” Kathryn smirked.
Tom huffed out a laugh, “If you’ve got any suggestions, I’m all ears.”
After a few minutes, Captain and Lieutenant re-entered the Bridge. Chakotay was sitting in his usual spot and his face broke into a smile at the sight of his captain.
“There you are, it’s good you’re back. Your coffee was getting cold.”
He handed the mug he had brought with him on his way to the Bridge to her and watched happily as a thankful grin spread across Janeway’s face.
“How is it you always know exactly what I need?”
Behind the pair, Tom had walked casually up to Harry, who was at his station.
“Harry,” Tom almost whispered. “I need your help. I’ve got a plan to make B’Elanna forgive me!”
“I’m sorry, Tom,” Harry replied reluctantly. “You’re on your own. I’d like to help, really, but this is between you and B’Elanna. I’ve interfered enough.”
“Oh come on, Harry--,”
“Mr. Paris,” a stern Vulcan voice interrupted. Tom’s head wheeled around to face Tuvok on the other side of the room. “Why are you not at your station?”
“I was just making sure Harry had enough to eat before coming on duty, Mr. Tuvok,” Tom retorted with a quick, ‘I’ll-get-you-later,’ expression directed at Harry.
“I am sure Mr. Kim is quite capable of managing his own eating habits. Please return to your station.”
“Yes sir,” Tom replied nearly cheerfully, though there was a bit of bite to his tone as he returned to the helm.
As he did so, Chakotay and Harry shared a glance. Chakotay smiled in a way that showed he was proud of Harry standing up to Tom, despite his desire to help. Harry seemed to feel a little better, and immediately went back to work.
--
Hours later, B’Elanna had had a shower and was dressed in her tank top and work pants, reviewing the latest reports from Engineering, when her door chimed.
“Who is it?” she called, completely unsure who would have any business with her at this hour.
“It’s me.”
B’Elanna’s expression hardened at the sound of Tom Paris’ voice.
“Go away, Tom. I’m not in the mood.”
“Please, I just want to tell you something. That’s all, and then you can kick me out and never talk to me again if you want to.”
B’Elanna, stubborn as she was, stayed silent. Half a minute passed before she called, “You’re not leaving until I open the door are you?”
“Nope,” was the quick reply from the other side of the door. “Unless you want me to,” followed a moment later, in the most sincere tone B’Elanna had ever heard from Tom.
She groaned, believing her weakness for him to be the fault of her human-half, but opening the door anyway.
“You have ten seconds.” There. That sounded more Klingon.
“And you can have this.”
“An isolinear chip,” B’Elanna said, staring at said object held up in front of her.
“An isolinear chip with a very special holodeck program on it. And,” Tom paused to move out of the doorway, “the holodeck is currently vacant.” He held out the isolinear chip.
“One condition: I want to see your reaction. Then I’ll leave.”
B’Elanna split her glare between the chip and the man in front of her before rolling her eyes and taking it from him.
“Fine. But you’re leaving right after I walk in. And there’s no guarantee I’m going to keep playing whatever this is.”
Tom nodded wordlessly and followed a pace behind and to the side of her as they made their way to the holodeck.
Once there, B’Elanna fed the chip into the controls for Holodeck 2 and marched straight inside, totally unprepared for what awaited her.
The nighttime setting was perfect for the old, 20th century, white pavilion that stood slightly uphill from where she was standing. Fairy lights were strung perfectly from the surrounding trees to the small structure, where they entered it, providing extra light, and also circled around the roof, lighting the small area beautifully. A neat, stone path lead up to the entrance. Dazed, B’Elanna took it and was somehow surprised to find a full meal for two set out on an elegant table.
The sight of the dinner pulled her from her reverie as she turned to face Tom.
“Well this is all very nice, Tom, but holographic food isn’t gonna do me much good is it?”
Tom, hands clasped behind his back, took the steps to stand in front of B’Elanna. “Actually, the food’s real.” He paused to search her face, and continued when he didn’t notice a change in her demeanor. “I, uh, traded a week’s worth of holodeck time to get the replicator rations to put this together. This is the only holodeck time I have reserved for a while.”
B’Elanna stared up at him. She knew how much his precious holodeck time meant to him. He had probably used all of his rations on part of the dinner, and even that would cover a small portion of what she could see; she had only just spotted the cart on the other side of the table that presumably had dessert under the lids of the trays.
Slowly she began to smile. “Then I guess we’d better make the most of while we can.”
As the conversation began to grow as they ate, Tom said a silent prayer of thanks to Captain Kathryn Janeway, who was entirely right about making sacrifices for the ones we love.