Trials 03 Torres' Trial

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Trials 03 Torres' Trial Page 12

by Terri Zavaleta


  Torres, purely out of sexual curiosity.

  He knew---because he'd had to pick them up off the floor after

  B'Elanna had expressed her lack of interest with her fists or feet.

  Thankfully, she'd eventually learned to turn down any offers without

  resorting to physical violence. He'd also put a stop to the

  propositions by letting his disapproval be known among the Maquis.

  His protective attitude had led many people to misinterpret his own

  relationship with Torres, but he'd ignored the gossip, knowing very

  well that there was nothing he could do to put a stop to it. He was

  aware that B'Elanna had developed something of a crush on him for a

  while, but she'd gotten over it.

  The beginning of the end of the crush had been when the Vidiians

  had split her into her human and Klingon halves---and Tom Paris had

  been there to comfort and assist her. She never had confided in him

  very much about that experience---just an occasional comment on how

  Paris had helped her, tried to help Durst. But since that time the

  relationship between the first officer and chief engineer had been

  purely based on friendship and a shared past history.

  Chakotay gave her a conciliatory smile. "You've made progress

  since the last time we talked. Now, at least you're sure he does care

  about you. How do you feel about him?"

  She threw herself back into the chair for the fourth time. "Oh,

  Chakotay," she sighed. "He's so---" She hesitated as she tried to

  think of the best way of describing him. Her whole face lit up. "He

  makes me feel more at ease with myself. And when he kisses me---" She

  sighed again, this time with a reminiscent smile. She hugged herself,

  rubbing her hands up and down her arms.

  "I take it that's positive?" His dimple peeked out as he tried

  to hide his amusement at her unexpected attack of speechlessness.

  She flashed a grin at him. "He makes me feel---beautiful.

  Special. Warm. Accepted. I've never felt like this before in my

  entire life---But I don't know if I make him feel the same way. I

  know I don't intimidate him. He's not afraid of my temper. But he

  hides from me. I want to know how he feels. How can I get him to open

  up?"

  Chakotay considered that for a moment. "Have you thought of

  setting the example?"

  "What?"

  "If you want him to open up and share his feelings with you,

  maybe you should share your feelings with him first."

  "I couldn't do that."

  "Why not?"

  "Because what if---what if he didn't like what he heard?"

  Chakotay frowned at her. "Excuse me, isn't that what you said

  he's afraid of? That you won't like what you hear?"

  "Yes, but that's different," she protested, dismayed to hear a

  whining note entering her voice.

  "Why? B'Elanna, you want him to take all the risks emotionally?

  He's supposed to open up to you---while you protect yourself?"

  "No! That's not it---" she protested, but stopped herself. "Yes,

  it is. That's exactly it. So you think if I open up to him, he'll

  feel---he'll trust me enough to open up to me, too?"

  "There are no guarantees. But I'm sure it would help."

  She nodded thoughtfully and subsided into silence.

  A few minutes passed. Chakotay finally interrupted her train of

  thought. "B'Elanna, while you're here, can I ask you a question?"

  She came back from the far place to which she'd traveled

  mentally. "Sure."

  Her brown eyes focused on him.

  "What happened with Harry and Malista?"

  She eyed him with amusement. "Let's see, that makes thirty-

  three."

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "You're the thirty-third person to ask me that question. Today,"

  she added. "Why do you want to know? As Malista's counselor? Or as

  First Officer?"

  "Either or both. The situation is beginning to affect ship's

  morale. I'm surprised Neelix---"

  Torres held up a hand. "Too late. Neelix already tried his hand

  at morale boosting."

  Chakotay passed a hand over his face, momentarily hiding his

  eyes. "Oh, no.

  Do I want to hear this?"

  "No---o---o," she drawled, sprawling in the chair and getting

  comfortable. "But you'll probably hear about it soon. So I might as

  well tell you. Neelix sat down with Harry at lunch today and tried to

  get him to talk about it."

  "And what was Harry's reaction?"

  "Let's put it this way, what would your reaction be if Neelix

  offered to play matchmaker for you and the Captain?" She hid a smile

  behind her hand at the curt, intimidating look the first officer sent

  sizzling across the room. "Yeah. That's what I thought. Harry held

  onto his temper by a micron, ordered Neelix to leave him alone, and

  stalked out of the mess hall. Kes talked Neelix out of approaching

  Malista. For which we should all be grateful. She wouldn't get mad.

  She'd probably burst into tears. Which would upset Tom. And then I'd

  have to smack Neelix."

  Chakotay decided to ignore her insolence and get back on the

  subject. "But what did Harry and Malista fight about? What caused the

  split?"

  B'Elanna shrugged. "I'm not sure. They aren't talking---to

  anyone. Malista might talk to Tom about it eventually, but she even

  told him to stay out of it. She doesn't want this to---interfere in

  our friendship with Harry. She wants the impossible. Harry won't talk

  to Tom or anyone else about what happened. It's awkward just being in

  the same room with him. He's shut us out."

  "You don't have a clue?"

  "No. The only thing I can think of---is jealousy. She'd

  mentioned that Harry had been acting funny and watching her all the

  time. Then Freddie Bristow made a pass at her. But Harry knew she

  hadn't invited that. How could he possibly be jealous? It doesn't

  make any sense. She never even knew anyone else existed---not once

  she had Harry."

  Chakotay frowned. "Jealousy isn't rational. It stems from

  insecurity. There doesn't have to be a real basis for its existence."

  "How could Harry possibly feel insecure? She was always hanging

  on his every word and adoring him with her eyes! She practically

  climbed in his pocket at Sandrine's that night. He'd have to be blind

  and stupid not to realize she cared about him!" Torres was

  exasperated with both her friends.

  "Maybe she never told him. Actions can tell you a lot---but when

  it comes right down to it---most people need to hear the words,"

  Chakotay stated quietly.

  "Yeah. Well, thanks, Chakotay. I'll see you later." She bounced

  to her feet and charged out the door in her typical impetuous manner,

  giving him no time to ask more questions.

  Chakotay thought for a moment then slapped his commbadge.

  "Chakotay to Captain Janeway."

  "Janeway here."

  "Captain, I've finished my session with Torres. If you'd like to

  finish those reports---"

  "I'll be right there."

  ***********************

  Tom landed flat on his back in the center of the net for the

  fifth time in
twenty minutes. The fun had gone out of falling---

  somewhere around the third time.

  "What did I do wrong now?" he yelped plaintively.

  Hanging upside down by the knees from the trapeze, Malista shook

  with laughter. "You aren't concentrating, Tom! You have to pay

  attention. I told you it's all in the timing!"

  "Hey! Why don't you let me be the catcher?"

  "Because *I* don't want to fall!"

  "What a lousy thing to say!" he retorted. "True---but totally

  unnecessary to say out loud. Come down here! I think half an hour is

  enough of a workout. How's your shoulder?"

  "It's fine." She pulled herself up to sit on the trapeze and

  peered down at him. "Well, if you want me to come down, you have to

  get out of the net."

  "Why? There's plenty of room." He paused and studied his

  surroundings. "Is it my imagination, or did this net grow since last

  time we were here?"

  "No, it's bigger. About fifty percent bigger. But you still have

  to move, because if I jump down, I'll either squash you or you'll

  probably bounce out! You think you can land on your feet instead of

  your head?"

  "I'm going, I'm going," he grumbled, rolling to the edge of the

  net and dismounting. He waited till she'd bounced down and helped her

  off the edge. He got her robe and held it as she put it on. He

  slipped his own robe on and belted it. The perspiration raised by

  exertion was cooling on his body and it would be easy to catch a

  chill. They sat down on a bench near the ringside.

  "Why is the net bigger?" he asked, squinting as he stared at it.

  Malista shrugged. "I thought you made it bigger---because you

  keep falling. If you didn't---Oh! B'Elanna must have made it bigger."

  "Why would she do that?" Paris inquired, frowning.

  Shadow socked his arm. "Because*you* keep falling, Tom. She's

  being protective. And surprisingly diplomatic."

  "Oh," he said, comprehension dawning. There was a pause. "So how

  are you doing?"

  "Fine. How are you?"

  "Fine."

  There was a momentary silence.

  "Now that we've finished lying to each other, how are you

  really?" Tom asked, studying her profile.

  She pushed the sawdust with her left big toe, forming little

  piles on the floor in front of them. "I've been better," she finally

  replied, a sob shaking her voice.

  He slipped his arm around her and pulled her head down to his

  shoulder. "Computer, save and end program. Run program Paris 4,

  subroutine 6."

  The holodeck shimmered around them. The circus tent disappeared

  and was replaced by Lake Como. It was a special place for them---the

  place where they'd first forged the bonds of their friendship. It was

  sunset and Tom and Malista were seated on the bench next to the

  picnic table with a view of the lake before them. It was very

  peaceful.

  "Do you want to talk about it?" Tom asked, careful not to sound

  insistent.

  "Have you talked to Harry?"

  "Don't answer a question with a question," he instructed.

  "Why not? You do it all the time."

  "I'm your older brother. You're supposed to do as I say---not as

  I do," Tom replied virtuously.

  "Yeah, right," she replied in a watery voice. She left her head

  on his shoulder as if she derived some comfort from his touch. "But

  have you talked to Harry? As a friend?"

  "No."

  "Oh, Tom." She tilted her face to look at him. "He's your best

  friend. I told you I didn't want---"

  "It's not your fault. I tried to talk to him---once. I haven't

  chased him down because I don't know what to say. He's been avoiding

  me anyway. He doesn't want to talk to me. Do you want to talk about

  it?"

  "You aren't going to let go of this, are you?"

  Tom waved an admonishing finger at her. "See, you did it again!"

  "Did what?"

  "Answered a question with a question. No. I'm not going to let

  it go. Talk to me." Her head rested on his shoulder, his head rested

  atop hers, their arms around each other, and they watched the sunset

  for a few minutes. "Computer, put a privacy lock on this holodeck."

  "Acknowledged. Privacy lock is in place."

  "Now, Sis. What happened?"

  "It's funny. I've thought about it. I'm still not sure," she

  replied. "I thought everything was---fine. Then we got back to my

  quarters and he---no, that's not true. He'd been acting funny for

  days. Not himself. But if I asked him what was wrong, he said

  'Nothing'. At Sandrine's that night---he was---Oh, I don't know. Did

  he seem all right to you?"

  "Well," Paris said hesitantly. "Before we came to meet you, he

  was upset about the incident with Freddie Bristow."

  "I hadn't even told him about---"

  "He saw it. He went to the resort and saw Freddie rubbing oil on

  your back," Paris explained.

  "Oh. But why---"

  "He left as soon as he saw you two together."

  "So he didn't see me knock Freddie down and tell him to keep his

  hands off of me?"

  "Did you do that?" Tom said, sounding delighted. "I wish I could

  have seen that. How did Freddie take it?"

  "With his ego, he barely noticed," Malista muttered. "You just

  wish I'd decked him because he went after B'Elanna."

  "True." He didn't sound the least bit apologetic.

  "So Harry didn't know if I'd invited Freddie's attention? Was

  that why---but when you got to Sandrine's I told everybody what

  happened. Didn't he believe me?"

  she asked plaintively.

  "He probably wanted to. Maybe he wanted to believe it so much he

  couldn't."

  She blinked at him curiously.

  He waved a hand to dismiss it. "It's a guy thing. So is that

  what the fight was about? Freddie Bristow?" Paris inquired.

  "No. I told you---I'm not even sure. It seemed to just---flare

  up. He didn't want to---He didn't want me to kiss him. I thought he

  liked kissing me. He seemed to before. He said he wanted to talk.

  Then he started ---ranting about other men---men plural---not just

  Freddie---and the accident---"

  "The accident? Was he still blaming himself?"

  "No. As a matter of fact," she said then stopped, reconsidering

  the wisdom of telling Tom the whole truth.

  "What?"

  "No, you'll get mad." She looked away from him.

  "Come on."

  "No."

  "Malista?" he drawled coaxingly.

  "Promise not to get mad?"

  Tom snorted. "Too late. I'm already mad at him. For hurting you.

  And for shutting me out."

  "Tom, it's not all his fault. It takes two to make a fight, you

  know."

  "Tell me what he said about the accident."

  She sighed and sat upright, pulling away from his encircling

  arm. She stood and strolled down to the water's edge. Paris followed

  her. "He asked me---if I was trying to get myself killed. He thought

  maybe it wasn't an accident at all---that it might have been a---

  another suicide attempt."

  "What?" Paris exploded.

  She winced at his loudness and laid a hand
on his arm. "Tom.

  Calm down."

  "How could he think that---much less say it?! Has he lost his

  mind? What other pearls of stupidity did he have to offer?"

  "Tom, I'm not going to tell you anything until you calm down.

  And promise not to say anything to anyone else about this---

  especially not Harry!" Malista tugged on his forearm and gazed up at

  him insistently through tear-drenched dark green eyes.

  Paris took hold of his emotions and reined them in. She didn't

  need him to fight her battles for her. Not right now. She needed him

  to listen. So he would listen and keep quiet---if it choked him.

  "Okay. I'm sorry. What else did he say?"

  "There was something about Freddie. I think he was still

  jealous. And when I said Freddie wasn't important---he asked about---

  other men." She paused to see if another outburst was forthcoming.

  When Tom clenched his jaw silently, she went on. "Then he said I was

  using him---to get experience sexually---because he was---safe? And

  he said Libby never tried to make him jealous---and I told him to get

  out!" She lost her battle to suppress her tears. They rolled freely

  down her cheeks.

  Tom's arms came around her and pressed her cheek against his

  shoulder as she wept. He shook his head. "I can't believe it. That

  doesn't sound like Harry."

  "That's what I thought," Malista choked. "He was acting like a

  totally different person. I didn't know what to do---I didn't know

  what to say. I was so angry I couldn't talk. I couldn't find the

  words---I must have done something. I'm just too stupid to know what

  I did that made Harry so---so crazy."

  Tom seized her forearms and gave her a little shake. "Stop that.

  You're not stupid! Don't take the blame for this."

  "Who should I blame? Harry? He's the normal one, remember? I

  must have done something. How did I make him crazy?"

  "I think he did it to himself," Tom said, uncertainly.

  "Yeah, right." She drew a tissue from the pocket of her robe,

  mopped her face and blew her nose. "That's likely."

  "Well, what now?" Tom took her hand and led her back to the

  bench.

  "Nothing. It's over. Maybe in time---things will settle down and

  we can be polite to each other---be friendly again. Right now---I

  just can't. It hurts so much to see him. I can't even say hello."

  Tom frowned. "And what are you going to do? Date someone else?"

  She shook her head tiredly. "I'm not interested. Not now. Maybe

 

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