"Oooookay," Tom drawled, listening to the 'music' and trying
frantically to match it up with a song he knew the lyrics to or the
songs he could at least make the sounds of the instruments to provide
more music than just the clicking rhythm.
Unnoticed, the aliens had formed a circle around the humans, waiting
patiently for their next move.
Paris knew, if he could get the right kind of music going, she would
quickly become one with it. She'd told him that music always seemed to
exhilarate and energize her, setting her spirit free in ways that she
would normally never express. That's what Harry should do to loosen
her up. Take her dancing. He'd suggest that if---when they got back to
the ship.
"You may have to get really creative. I don't know how to select the
kind of music you want. I've seen you dance in your warm-ups. Just do
whatever feels right."
"Whenever you start singing." She stretched and waited for her cue.
"Any requests?" he teased.
"How about something that starts slow and builds? Something slinky."
Tom's eyebrows flew up. "Slinky? Oooookay. I can do slinky."
"How about that song Sue Nicoletti played on her oboe at the last
concert? That classical thing." As she spoke, Shadow moved to the
center of the room and began to stretch. The circle of aliens
surrounding her mirrored her every move. They seemed much more
interested in her movements than in Tom's relative stillness.
"Bolero? By Ravel? That doesn't have words," Paris protested.
"So hum it or make up some words," Shadow ordered impatiently. She
stretched her hands high over her head and stood up straight, waiting
for him to begin.
Feeling a little foolish, the lieutenant nonetheless began humming.
She began with slow, gradual movements of her fingers, then hands,
then wrists. It was something like ballet, something like a gymnastics
routine designed to demonstrate the function and flexibility of the
human body and its joints. As Tom knew she would, Malista quickly
became so absorbed in the dance that she forgot the circumstances. He
increased the volume of his 'music' and settled back to take the role
of appreciative audience.
An observer would have thought she was there specifically to teach the
small aliens the dance steps. She watched their efforts to duplicate
her moves and repeated several until the aliens were successful. As
the music built, she began to incorporate larger, swooping moves into
her performance. It was almost a challenge dance. The aliens began to
add their own moves which she duplicated.
Laughing lightly with sheer exuberance, Malista tore the tie from her
hair, tossing her head back and forth to enjoy the sense of freedom as
the black waves swirled around her face. With a sound that was almost
a purr, she arched and rippled her body from fingertips to toes in an
undulating motion that caused Tom to swallow very hard. He recognized
that move. He'd seen green Orion women dance in that manner. Paris
wondered if B'Elanna would ever dance like that for him. Maybe Malista
could give her lessons? Better not even to think about it. Not now.
If Malista were wearing a proper costume rather than the ragged
remains of her uniform.....Harry would be totally blown away. Tom
grinned as he imagined the look on his best friend's face.
He gulped again as she repeated the move twice more with a sensual
emphasis that was all the more fascinating because she wasn't being
deliberately provocative. He couldn't believe this was the
self-conscious Malista Shadow. She was so---uninhibited.
Tom reached for the bottle to relieve his suddenly reawakened thirst.
For a moment, Shadow looked decidedly dangerous as she moved with
cat-like grace demonstrating her litheness and agility. Springing into
a leap and landing lightly on her feet, she crouched for a moment then
bounced up, stretched out her arms, and went into a spin, a feral
smile showing the gleam of white teeth. Feral? With that black hair,
those glinting green eyes---panther-like was a more apt description.
That word picture inspired Tom with an idea. But revenge on those
who'd been harassing Malista could wait until they got back to the
ship. His glimmer of creative vengeance could only be enhanced by the
addition of Delaney duplicity to the mix.
"Tom! Let's pick up the pace!" She shouted as she spun in a graceful
circle and encouraged her audience with gestures to join her. The
small aliens complied with clumsy but energetic movements. "Something
faster!" She ran to his side, snatched up her own liquid refreshment
and polished off the contents. It filled her with energy that quickly
spread a tide of warmth to every part of her body. Even her toes
tingled. Her eyes sparkled as she seized Tom's arm and dragged him
into the center of the circle of dancing aliens.
He began to laugh. He vaguely wondered why everything in the room
seemed to be so much brighter, so much more clearly defined, but
shrugged it off and turned his attention to his giggling 'sister' who
was demanding his participation.
"Okay. How about a bar song?" He threw one arm around her waist,
grabbed her other hand and hoarsely crowed, "Belly up, belly up to the
bar, boys! Better loosen your belts! Only drink when you're all alone
or with somebody else!"
Singing at the top of his lungs, straining his voice but uncaring, he
proceeded to lead the group into a dance that was a cross between a
polka and a gallop around the room, with a few high kicks thrown in
for good measure.
He became adventurous and tried lifting her. She smacked his arm when
he almost dropped her while attempting the third lift in as many
minutes. He twirled Malista around like a top and they fell against
each other laughing as she grew dizzy. It was becoming increasingly
difficult to laugh, breathe, sing, and dance simultaneously and the
temperature of the room seemed to be rising steadily. Or perhaps it
was just their exertions that were making them both perspire so much?
The little aliens romped through the steps with untiring enthusiasm
though they lacked the skill and coordination of their human
companions.
A quiet hissing sound and a hint of movement snapped them all to
attention as a door panel slid open. Two of the large aliens loomed in
the doorway.
Every moving body in the room screeched to a complete and undignified
halt, human and alien alike.
Tom Paris blinked owlishly at the intrusion.
No one moved or spoke for approximately thirty seconds.
Paris sighed with exaggerated sadness. "Ooops. Party's over. Daddy's
home." He blinked again as his brain caught up with his mouth. He
turned his gaze on Malista as his eyes lit up.
She panted, trying to catch her breath as she gaped at him, staring
from the large aliens to the small ones now crowded around the two
humans. "You think?" she gasped.
A delighted smile blossomed on the lieutenant's face. He snickered.
***********
*****
The senior staff, with the notable exception of Tom Paris, had once
again reassembled in the briefing room. "The inertial dampers are
online. Guidance control is optimal. Shields are fully restored. We're
ready for another try whenever you are, Captain," Torres summarized
tersely. "*Now* can we make another attempt?"
Before anyone could comment further, the intruder alert sounded
simultaneously with the appearance of the bright white light of the
alien transporter.
Tom Paris and Malista Shadow materialized standing atop the center of
the briefing room table.
Malista's knife, the protective eyewear The Six had been wearing when
transported to the planet, and the various boots that had been
discarded or lost along the way were lying in a neat pile near their
feet.
Those seated around the table stared for a moment in surprise at the
sudden return of the two lost crewmembers. At first glance, it seemed
Paris and Shadow were holding each other up as if unable to maintain
their balance unsupported. They leaned against one another with arms
around each other and panted for breath as if they'd just run a
marathon. The two of them looked disheveled, sweaty, and tired, but
appeared to be uninjured.
Tom's blue eyes widened as he took in his surroundings. "Damn, I wish
they'd give a guy some warning before they do that," he muttered, his
usual smooth tenor sounding raspy. His free hand went to his temple.
"Owwwwwwww. My head hurts."
"Did you click your heels three times?" Malista accused breathlessly,
then quickly covered her mouth with the fingertips of one hand as a
hiccup escaped. Paris didn't waste his own breath on answering that
cryptic question.
As if too exhausted to bear her weight any longer, Tom loosened his
grip and allowed Malista to slither down the length of his body to the
tabletop in a controlled fall before dropping to his own knees beside
her. Malista's breathing was forced and uneven as she landed on all
fours, shaking her head as if trying to clear it.
Before anyone else could react, the ever proper, Mr. Correct Starfleet
Protocol, Ensign Harry Kim stood, scooped Crewman Shadow off the
tabletop, and reseated himself holding the young woman firmly cradled
in his lap. He wordlessly hugged her tightly to his body and buried
his face in her neck muttering indistinguishable words of sheer
relief.
"Harry?" Malista's muffled and astonished voice could barely be heard
by the others. "Angel?"
Ensign Kim failed to respond audibly but his arms tightened around
her.
Bringing her own arms up and around the ensign's neck, Shadow snuggled
into his embrace even as she protested, "Harry, Angel, I'm all
sweaty."
"Hush, Cookie." Kim tightened his grasp again, only easing up when he
felt her gasp for air.
Chakotay and Torres jumped to their feet and assisted Paris in
climbing off the table. He lurched towards the chief engineer and
managed to snag an arm around her shoulders, pulling her towards him
with a loopy grin. "Hi, 'Lanna! Miss me?"
Torres snarled at him. "Megan Delaney said you almost got yourself
killed!"
"They're back on the ship?!" Paris chirped brightly. "Awwww, she
'xagerated. Don't believe her."
Neelix gaped at the pilot. "He's drunk!"
"I think you mean they---we are---" With a shaky sigh, Malista gave up
on what she intended to say. Correcting Neelix's impression wasn't as
important as returning her attention to soothing Ensign Kim, who was
still holding onto her as if not totally convinced she'd returned or
that she wouldn't disappear again. "Mmm. You smell good, Angel," she
purred and nibbled at the back of his ear.
Mr. Kim blushed furiously and grabbed her free hand which was
attempting to snake down the neck of his uniform to reach bare skin.
Fortunately, she didn't seem to resent his restraining her. If
anything, it seemed to motivate her to be even more creative in the
use of her mouth---and teeth which were now nibbling his neck and
earlobes as if he were the main course of her next meal. Malista's
sudden lack of inhibitions had the potential for causing serious
discomfiture for both of them.
"If by 'drunk' you mean inebriated or suffering from overindulgence in
the ingestion of alcohol or other fermented beverages, there are at
least seven other alternative explanations for Mr. Paris' and Ms
Shadow's apparent incapacitation," Tuvok said pedantically. From the
speaking look cast his way by the captain, the Vulcan concluded that
no one was interested in hearing him expound on the subject. He raised
an eyebrow but fell silent.
"Fermented?" Tom's words were slurred as he blinked, trying to get
Tuvok's appearance to focus into a more defined image. He was sure
there was really only one Tuvok despite what his eyes were telling
him. "Oh. That must be it. Hey, Sis! That juice they gave us was
fermented. No wonder---Hey, we have to tell the Doc we found some real
jungle juice!" He chortled, then caught his breath in a loud hiccup.
His eyes widened as if astonished at the sound, then he grinned again.
"Let's get them to Sickbay," Chakotay suggested, latching onto Tom's
arm as the pilot swung it widely in an expansive gesture towards
Malista Shadow that almost smacked the first officer in the face. Tom
just smiled at his commander genially as if pleased to see him. That
was a definite first.
At the sound of Tom's voice, Malista lifted her head, blurrily seeking
to identify the other occupants of the room. The moment her eyes lit
with recognition on Kathryn Janeway, she became slightly agitated.
Sitting up a little from Harry's embrace, she waved a beckoning hand
vaguely in the captain's direction. "C-c-captain. Captain. Captain!"
she called with increasing urgency.
Torn between amusement and surprise, Janeway stepped towards her,
bending to peer into her slightly unfocused green eyes. "Yes, Ms.
Shadow?"
Malista's brow furrowed in a mixture of confusion and concentration.
"I'm s'posed to---I need to---uh, Tom." Receiving no response, she
raised her voice. "TOM!"
Distracted from his efforts to tug one arm free of Chakotay's grasp
and his attempt to wrap both arms around B'Elanna, Paris spun,
staggered, and wound up draped face down over the back of a chair,
hands flat on the table in front of him. "What?!" he demanded
imperiously as he raised his head to stare at Shadow.
"What did I want to talk to the captain about?" Malista pleaded
earnestly.
His expression went blank. "What? I don't know. Can't remember." He
tried unsuccessfully to straighten and locate Torres. "B'Ella,
beautiful B'Ella! Where are you?" he wheedled. With a disconcertingly
swift change, he snapped his attention back to Malista and announced,
"Apology." He grinned as if supremely self-satisfied that he'd come up
with an answer for her, then shook his head warily. He was slightly
&nb
sp; confused to find that the room was apparently getting taller. And
possibly starting to rotate? He squinted at the far wall of the room
searching for a focal point.
Chakotay stepped up behind the pilot. He got his arms under Tom's,
locked his hands on the taller man's chest, and hauled him upright as
he showed every sign of slowly sinking to the floor. "Definitely
Sickbay," the first officer huffed as he attempted to get Paris to
stand or at least balance on his own feet until he could get a better
grip on the taller man. The first officer shot a 'help me' look at
Lieutenant Torres.
She held up both hands and backed away, carefully staying out of
Paris' line of sight. She wasn't getting anywhere near Tom while he
was under the influence. Not in public anyway. She knew from past
experience the effect her presence would have. It would only increase
his amorous mood and lead to embarrassment for both of them. Now if
they were alone.....Maybe she could get him to his quarters before the
effect wore off?
Tuvok stood up and came around the table to assist Chakotay with his
armload of unsteady conn officer.
"Apology? Oh, yeah," Malista slurred. Following Starfleet protocol,
she struggled to come to attention when addressing a superior officer,
but didn't manage to accomplish it very well since she was still
seated in Harry Kim's lap with one arm looped around his neck. "Cap'n,
I want to apologize for my behavior this morning---was it this
morning? Harry, Angel, was it this morning?"
Gray eyes twinkling, Janeway answered for the ensign. "Yes, Crewman
Trials 04 Shadow's Trial Page 47