Trials 01 Tom's Trail

by Terri Zavaleta

  The First Officer shrugged. "You asked what I saw. That's what I saw."

  "You don't think he was flirting? With all that smiling and making jokes? And calling her Diane?" Torres rapped out, showing her total exasperation at Chakotay's lack of discernment.

  "Her name is Diane. What should he have called her?" Chakotay asked logically and infuriatingly.

  "You know what I mean. He knows the name of every woman---every attractive woman on the ship!" Her tone seemed to imply that was a crime to be despised. "And she was looking all starry-eyed at him!"

  "He probably knows the names of every crewmember period. It is a small crew. And he has a very good memory. Put that together with his sociable nature, and I would say it was natural he should know people's names. He's probably invited ninety percent of them to join him in a game of pool at Sandrine's. And B'Elanna, he can hardly be held responsible for the way others look at him."

  "So you're trying to say he wasn't flirting? If that 'accident' had happened to you---or anyone else, Paris would have done exactly the same thing?" Her disbelief came across clearly.

  Chakotay nodded. "Mr. Paris has good manners. Remember, he was raised most of his life on or near Starfleet Bases. Good manners are not an option. I think he would have helped anyone---male, female---attractive or not. It's a habit with him. How often has he helped

  you? And if that person seemed embarrassed, he would make an effort to make him or her more comfortable using his favorite tool which seems to be humor." The first officer couldn't believe he found himself in the position of defending the pilot.

  When Chakotay said it, it sounded so reasonable---and so like the Tom she had come to know---B'Elanna began to wonder if she was overreacting. She wasn't ready to concede totally yet, but her sense of fairness had her saying, "Maybe. You may be right."

  "B'Elanna, what you may want to consider is how strongly you reacted."

  "What?"

  Chakotay shrugged again as he started gathering his dishes. "Well, I understand that you want to step back from the relationship---or possible relationship with Paris."

  She nodded slowly.

  "In that case, I think you should consider why you are so filled with jealousy. Or are you using jealousy as an excuse---to avoid involvement?" Chakotay stood.

  "I don't know if I can trust him!" The words were torn from her.

  "Sorry. I can't help you with that. I don't know either." Chakotay felt sorry for her confusion, but he didn't have any answers or guarantees for her. "But it would be a shame to throw something valuable away, then regret it later. Especially if the reason for doing it was fear."

  B'Elanna couldn't think of anything to say.

  ***********************

  Crewman Malista Shadow opted to remain assigned to the Maintenance detail. Her secondary posting in case of emergency was to Security. She was now assigned to work only the Gamma shift, the third duty shift. This meant that she was sleeping during the Alpha shift and had leisure time during the Beta shift. The Beta shift was the time period most of the socialization aboard the ship took place.

  Having been given no choice by both the Commander and Captain Janeway, for exactly three hours each evening Crewman Shadow made appearances in the mess hall and holodecks. Silent appearances.

  She was sitting alone at Sandrine's nursing a drink along. It didn't normally take three hours to finish one syntheholic beer, but it gave her something to do while putting in her time. She was required to socialize as per the captain's 'suggestion' so she was here. Crewman Dishon had been with her when she first came in, but he'd moved to another table to begin a flirtation with Jenny Delaney.

  Shadow didn't seem to be aware of the others in the room.

  Paris noticed. He was tired of his own company. Curiosity got the better of him. As he studied his next pool shot, he made a point of stopping next to her table. He turned to her. "What do you think?" He gestured at the table.

  She considered the placement of the balls on the table. Without expression, she shrugged. She took another sip of her beer.

  "Do you play?" Paris inquired.

  She shook her head and stared at him wordlessly.

  A lesser man would have been discouraged. Tom tried a charming smile. "Would you like to learn?"

  "Leave her alone!" Dishon was back and suddenly standing between Paris and Shadow, defying his superior officer. He looked ready to start something if Paris didn't back off.

  "Just being friendly," he offered mildly. Paris was almost a foot taller than Dishon. He peered over the stocky crewman's shoulder and sought a response from Shadow.

  "Back off!" Dishon growled, and pushed both hands against Paris' chest.

  Paris was getting a little annoyed as he returned his attention to the man. "Dishon, stay out of this. I didn't hear her scream for help."

  Dishon suddenly paled. "What?"

  "It's okay," Shadow said, her deep, husky voice sounded rusty from disuse. She was standing now and put a hand on Dishon's shoulder. She was almost Paris' height, towering over the shorter man.

  Dishon spun to look up into her green eyes. What he saw there evidently satisfied him. Without a glance at Paris, he muttered, "Sorry, Lieutenant." He pushed past the pilot and returned to the other table to rejoin Megan and Jenny Delaney and a friend.

  Paris and Shadow studied each other for a silent moment. "So," Paris joked, "What are you? His sister?"

  "His albatross," she said bitterly.

  Paris recognized the reference to the Ancient Mariner and tilted his head. "Really? And is he your albatross?"

  Her eyes widened as if that thought had never occurred to her. She didn't respond. She seemed to be thinking it over.

  Paris smiled again at Shadow. "You didn't answer my question. Do you want to learn to play pool?"

  His smile faded as she said, "No, thanks." She reseated herself and went back to her beer, her expression unsmiling.

  "If you change your mind?" Paris offered, leaving it open.

  She nodded slowly.

  Thomas Paris needed some activity for his mind and she presented an enigma. He decided to figure her out. But there was no rush. He went back to his game as he pondered the approach he wanted to take. He had nothing better to do in his off hours. Besides, there was something about that look in her eyes---it looked familiar. He just couldn't quite place it. He knew he didn't like it. It worried him

  somehow.

  ***********************

  Ethan Simms was in the turbolift when Tom got in and asked for the Bridge. Tom looked at him with a polite smile and nodded.

  "Lieutenant?" Simms seemed uncomfortable.

  "Yes?"

  "I want to apologize," the ensign blurted. "I don't know if you've heard, but I finally told Janine Lamont I was the one sending her the anonymous love letters."

  Paris smiled blankly. "That's nice, but what---"

  "I got a little upset when I saw you with her and---"

  Paris waved the rest away. He'd almost forgotten that Simms had been there. "Don't worry about it. I understand. You're in love. I hope I don't have to tell you that Lamont's not interested in me. All I am is her flight instructor."

  The turbolift stopped at the Security level. "Oh, I know, Lieutenant," Simms said, blushing to the roots of his dark red hair.

  "She told me you were just being kind. I'm the man she wants. Janine made that very clear---last night." He exited with a smile on his face, his green eyes sparkling.

  Paris smiled for a moment, sharing Ethan's good fortune. The smile dropped away as he remembered B'Elanna's reaction to the same incident.

  ***********************

  B'Elanna Torres was not in a good mood. She hadn't been for weeks now. In fact the Engineering staff could pinpoint to the day when she'd gone from merely cranky to downright unbearable. It was the day she'd told Tom Paris she didn't want to see so much of him---that they should back off the relationship. The only thing worse than a Klingon having a tantrum, was
a Klingon feeling guilty and

  depressed. Torres had thrown herself into her work, both literally and figuratively and dragged her reluctant crew in after her.

  Torres hadn't been able to forget how Tom had ignored her when she'd teased him on the bridge. She'd spoken without thinking---something she was beginning to think she did far too often. It had slipped her mind momentarily that they weren't---friends any more.

  Paris had made that crystal clear. He was careful to treat her with professional courtesy. There was never a word or a look that could offend her or give her reason to think that he cared for her. He had distanced himself from her. Ironically, the more he did so, the more she felt an intense need to know what he was doing and who he was doing it with. She told herself if was friendly curiosity. He

  acted as if they were strangers. It was infuriating! Yet---she couldn't ignore him or forget him.

  Even worse, her friendship with Harry Kim had been affected. Though the ensign had been careful not to take sides, the three of them didn't do things together any more. He was left to balance his spare time between his two friends. It was awkward for him to censor his conversation to keep from mentioning Paris to Torres and vice-versa. So Harry was avoiding both of them by throwing himself into

  his music and practicing for concerts with Susan Nicoletti among others.

  Torres had never realized how much time the three of them spent together until they suddenly weren't. The trio had become something of a habit while working together on the Warp 10 project. The three of them had bounced ideas off each other, made plans, and humorously fantasized about the results of their leap into the record books. It

  had been fun. She'd learned a new respect for Tom Paris as a pilot and as an intelligent man. When he'd died---almost died---she didn't want to think about it.

  "Carey!" she bellowed, as if there were no communications system available. "Where are those efficiency ratings for the conversion chambers?"

  ***********************

  Tom had lost interest in the Delaney sisters and stopped pursuing them. When his friendship with Torres abruptly ended, Megan suddenly decided she was interested in him again. She asked him to teach her to play pool. In the guise of teaching the proper grip, she provided Tom with a perfect excuse to put his arms around her.

  For an intelligent woman, she was a slow learner. He'd had to demonstrate the proper grip and motions several times. For some reason of her own, Megan kept leaning against him as he explained the theory of the game. Tom wondered who Megan was trying to make jealous, but he didn't really care who her target was. Since B'Elanna

  Torres was seated near the bar with Carey and Nicoletti, Paris was motivated to pretend an interest in Megan's flirtatious behavior for his own reasons.

  Flirtatious repartee was second nature to him. It didn't require all his attention. With Megan, it was just a game. She didn't want to be taken seriously---at least not by him. He'd found that out on their one double date with Harry and Jenny.

  Paris suddenly caught a glimpse of Malista Shadow sitting at the isolated table in the corner. Again she was nursing a beer along as if trying to set an endurance record, but this time she was working on something. She held two long needles wrapped in some kind of material. Tom thought it looked familiar but couldn't place it. He

  noticed Malista seemed to be actually paying attention to Tom and Megan's performance. As he came around to her side of the pool table, Tom said hello. She nodded in acknowledgment.

  The next time he got near, he leaned on the table in front of her and put his face about two feet from her own. He didn't want there to be any chance she could ignore him. "By the way, your name is Malista Shadow? My name is Tom Paris."

  She looked up from her needlework and for the first time a glint of something that might have been humor showed in her emerald eyes. "Scaramouche," she accused.

  Tom was caught off guard for a split second, then a grin popped into place as he recognized the reference. He shook his head with mock disapproval. "No, no! Malista, I'm a much more colorful personality than that! Harlequin!" He made a flamboyant bow in her direction, sweeping an imaginary hat off his head.

  The barest hint of a smile twitched at her mouth. She sipped her beer to conceal it.

  "What? What are you talking about, Tommy?" Megan's cooing voice suddenly seemed an intrusion.

  Good manners required that he turn his attention back to her. "Harlequin---he's a character---" At her blank and disinterested look, Paris gave up. "Never mind. Let's see about that eight ball." He glanced back over his shoulder. Each time he came near Malista's table, he made a comment or remark to include her in the holodeck activities. If she answered, it was with no more than one or two words.

  "Is that knitting?" Paris asked, finally recognizing the needles from an old picture in a favorite book. Malista nodded. "Oh! Madame Defarge, I presume?"

  Malista leaned forward, clicking her needles, and muttered in an old crone's cackle. "Guillotine!"

  Paris burst out laughing, drawing the attention of everyone at Sandrine's, especially B'Elanna Torres. Shadow sat back, sipped her beer, and went on knitting. "What's so funny?" Megan Delaney demanded, pouting. She hated not being in on the joke.

  Tom was tiring of Megan's company, but was too much of a gentleman to brush her off. "It's a Dickens character."

  "Dickens?" Megan thought about it. "Oh, yeah. I remember Dickens. Isn't that the guy that says 'Bah! Humbug!'?"

  Tom could almost feel his eyes glazing over as he tried to think of a kind answer to that comment. Why didn't everyone read the classics? He glanced over his shoulder to share his dismay with the evidently well-read Shadow, but Malista had vanished. He hadn't seen her leave. His blue eyes met B'Elanna's brown ones on the other side

  of the room. She was glaring at him. Well, what was new about that? He returned his attention to Megan with renewed enthusiasm. "Let me show you again how to hold the cue."

  He wrapped his arms around Megan and she snuggled against him. Funny. It didn't make him feel warm.

  ***********************

  B'Elanna's eyes were drawn to Paris when he suddenly laughed. She hadn't heard that sound in some time. Usually Paris just smiled if something was amusing. She wondered what Malista Shadow could have said to provoke such a reaction. She met his eyes, until catching herself staring at him, she returned her attention to Lieutenant Carey. "Something's different here," she said. "There's something

  different about Sandrine's. I can't put my finger on it."

  Carey and Nicoletti exchanged a knowing look.

  "What?" Torres snapped.

  Susan pointed toward the end of the bar. "The piano hasn't always been there. It was added about a year ago. Is that what you mean?" she asked a little too innocently.

  Her chief glared at her. "No. I mean there's something missing. Isn't there?"

  Carey took a sip of his drink. "Maybe you're missing Rickie."

  Rickie? The holocharacter Paris had created to fawn over him? Torres looked around the room again. It was true. The other characters were there---that pig Gaunt Gary, the gigolo, Sandrine---but no Rickie. He'd told Harry he always had Rickie in all his programs.

  "What happened to her?" she asked.

  "Paris deleted her character about two months ago," Carey said casually.

  Two months. That was about the time Paris had begun to flirt with her, ask her out. "Did he say why?" B'Elanna had to ask.

  Susan smiled at her patiently. "I asked him that. He said you didn't like her. So he got rid of her. Took you a while to notice, huh?"

  Torres growled. She stormed out of the bar.

  "Well, Joe?" Nicoletti said.

  "This could be very entertaining," Carey said. "What were the odds as of today?"

  ***********************

  Tom had just finished dinner. Harry and he were in agreement. It had been one of Neelix's better efforts. They were discussing Tom's para-skiing program when Torres flounced in and plopp
ed down in the chair across from his without waiting for an invitation. She'd been gearing up for this confrontation all day. She got right to the

  point. "Have you lost your mind?"

  "No, why? Have you found one lying around?" Tom couldn't resist a straight line. Teasing Torres was always tempting and never more so than when she was already on a tear. Besides, smart remarks were what she and everyone else seemed to want from him.

  Harry admired his calm but wondered if Tom had no sense of fear. B'Elanna looked like she was in a full blown Klingon snit. A wise man would run for cover. Harry was considering it himself.

  Torres took control of her temper with a visible effort. "What do you think you're doing with Malista Shadow?"

  Tom's face went blank, showing no sign of his usual humor. "I'm being friendly. What did you think I was doing?" he challenged.

  Torres seemed to be stumped. It obviously wasn't the answer or the tone she'd expected. "I don't know. Don't play games with her, Tom! She may not look it, but she's fragile," she warned.

  Quite calmly and coolly, Paris got to his feet. "You're mistaken, Lieutenant. I'm not the one who wanted to play games. I wanted a relationship---one with a future," he said with a tinge of bitterness. "See you later, Harry." He strolled from the room without a backward glance.

  B'Elanna stared at Harry. "Does he know what he's doing?"

  Harry was disappointed in her. "B'Elanna, do you really think Tom would deliberately hurt someone? That he'd---I guess you do. I think you were out of line."

  "I was out of line?" Torres exclaimed incredulously.

  "You gave up any right to interfere in Tom's private life, B'Elanna, when you told him you weren't interested in a relationship with him," Kim remarked, trying not to let his opinion of that decision color his words.

  "I didn't say---never. I said I wanted more time," she insisted. "He took it the wrong way."

  Kim's expression conveyed his disbelief. "C'mon! How would you have taken it? What if Tom had been the one to say he wanted more time to consider the relationship?" He didn't give her time to answer. "You'd have gone ballistic. And written him off. Do you really think he's going to try again with you? How many times would you risk rejection? You hurt him---badly."