DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns all rights to the Star Trek Universe. But it's their
fault if they make me want to add my own a little story of my own. I hope you
like it.  Be kind, but please send all comments and criticism (constructive,
please) to AnnitaS@aol.com.

NOTE:  This story takes place right after "Blood Fever."  It diverges from the
show as aired at this point, so must be considered an "alternate universe." 
Hopefully, some day the show's producers will see fit to finally get Tom and
B'Elanna together!  Thankfully, it looks like they are headed in that direction.

One word of warning: this is definitely a hurt/comfort story - Kleenex time
again!  There are implied adult situations, but nothing more than we got in the
episode.  Thanks to all my friends in the PT Collective for their support and
encouragement.  This story took a while to finish.  I hope it was worth the wait!

Now the story...



                                      OVER THE EDGE


       Tom Paris sank down on the bed in his quarters, laid back and let out a
long and heavy sigh.  Well, it hadn't been so bad, really, had it?  She hadn't
actually told him to go jump out the nearest airlock.  But then, she hadn't
jumped into his waiting arms either.  Tom played back the scene in his mind,
trying to figure out exactly what had happened.
       He hadn't intended to bring it up at all.  There had been a group of them
all sitting at a table in Sandrine's having a few drinks and sharing a few wild
stories.  Uncharacteristically, Harry had been the life of the party this night,
while Tom sat back and watched his friend with an affectionate smile on his face. 
Seeing Harry cut loose, which happened so rarely, always gave him an absurd swell
of pride.  He knew he had a hand in opening his introverted young friend up to
some of the more raucous pleasures of life.  Without Paris' sometimes
questionable influence, Harry tended to be too much within himself, too quiet,
too dedicated.  Almost from the beginning, Tom had felt the need to draw Harry
out, show him there was a world beyond work and that humans needed fellowship and
camaraderie at least occasionally.
       For his part, Harry had given Tom something he had never truly known.  A
sense of calm assurance.  It had never been easy for Tom to trust anyone.  Heaven
only knew he had had precious little reason to do so and numerous examples of the
danger involved.  But with Harry, trust came easily.  He had given Tom something
so rare: unconditional friendship.  Tom had grabbed onto that offered strand and
held on to it like a lifeline.  With Harry's help, he'd pulled himself out of the
darkness his life had been before Voyager.  Now, he could occasionally just sit
back and relax and enjoy himself without having to be the center of attention. 
He recognized the value of quiet contemplation.  This had been just such a
moment.
       His eyes wandered around the table, taking in the faces of his friends. 
How extraordinary that word, especially in the plural, sounded to him.  He fully
recognized the irony of his situation.  Here, over 70,000 light years from where
he was born, he had finally found a place to call home.  He had been given a
chance to prove himself, and so far, he had done well.  Yes, Tom Paris was
happier than he had been in a very, very long time.
       He chuckled as Harry finished another funny story and winked at Jenny
Delaney as she took the opportunity to place her hand lightly on Harry's forearm. 
Her sister, Megan, had noticed it too, and, not to be outdone, she grabbed hold
of the young man's other arm, much to the chagrin of Lieutenant Carey who had
escorted her here this evening.  But Harry didn't notice the flash of jealousy. 
Tom almost laughed again at the embarrassment on his friend's face at his
popularity.  He caught Harry's eye and flashed him a bright, encouraging grin. 
It was all the young ensign needed.  Once more he launched into a story from his
Academy days.  This one, Tom had heard and though he tried to listen politely,
his attention began to wander.  It didn't have to go far.
       Sitting across the crowded table from him, between Freddie Bristow and Joe
Carey, was B'Elanna Torres.  There had been a time when she wouldn't have been
caught dead sharing an evening in Tom Paris' company.  He couldn't count the
number of times she had called him a pig or worse.  But that had changed.  Not
all at once, but over time and through several shared perils, she had softened
her opinion.  Tom couldn't have been happier about the change in attitude.  He
truly valued her friendship, especially since offering it was as difficult for
her as it was easy for Harry.  The more he got to know her, the more comfortable
he felt with her.  She and Harry were just about the only people he had ever felt
safe enough with to occasionally reveal his real self.  And while he knew Harry
would always listen to him when he needed to talk, somehow he knew that it was
B'Elanna who would really understand when he was feeling angry or bitter or hurt. 
Unlike the somewhat naive young ensign, B'Elanna understood because she'd been
there, too.
       It was good to have someone who understood.  And good to have friends to
laugh with.  In the last few months, B'Elanna had allowed herself to enjoy their
company, to actually openly laugh with them.  The sharp barbs that had begun her
relationship with Tom had lately developed into a enjoyable sharing of the dry
wit they both possessed.  It was no longer a battle, but a game, one they both
enjoyed.
       When Tom turned his eyes toward B'Elanna this particular evening in
Sandrine's, he had fully expected to see her enjoying Harry's performance as much
as he was.  But when he looked at her, he was surprised by the pensive expression
in her dark eyes that were trained, not at Harry, but at him.  When she realized
he was looking at her, she almost jumped and quickly averted her eyes, looking
for a moment down at her hands, then a quick glance back at him, a slightly
embarrassed smile, then she turned her attention to the story.
       Words echoed in Tom's mind, words spoken only the day before in the
turbolift.  In particular, what she had said as she walked away from him.
       "Careful what you wish for, lieutenant."
       It could have been a warning, but Tom chose to take it as an offering of
hope.  The fact that she seemed as lost in thought as he was could be another
good sign.  Maybe something good would come out of the awkward situation in which
they had found themselves just a few days before.  It was certain their
relationship had changed -- how could it not after what had happened?  The things
they had said to each other while trapped in the caves on that misbegotten planet
had forced them into an untimely turn of the corner from which it would be
impossible to retreat.
       The table erupted in laughter as Harry finished his tale, bringing Tom's
thoughts back from their reverie.
       "How 'bout that game you promised me, Harry?" Joe asked.  "I'm still
betting I can beat you."
       "Get ready to part with your replicator rations, Joe," Tom advised him. 
"Harry's been taking lessons from an expert."  He brushed his nails across the
front of his uniform to make it clear exactly who he meant.
       "You mean the captain, of course," B'Elanna remarked, a glint in her eye
as she watched Paris' reaction.
       Tom offered his most wounded look.  "I'm crushed."
       "You were when the captain got through clobbering you, as I recall," Harry
reminded him.
       Tom turned his affronted look toward his friend.  "Et tu, Harry?"
       "Come on," Carey called as he rose from the table.  "The game is waiting."
       "Can we come watch?" asked Jenny.
       "Of course, you can," Carey smiled engagingly.
       "Oh, let's go," gushed Megan, still clutching Harry's arm as they stood up. 
Everyone rose and headed for the pool table except Paris.
       "Aren't you coming?" Harry asked.
       Tom shook his head.  "I think I'll just sit here for a while."
       Kim gave his friend a worried look.  "Everything all right?"
       Paris smiled broadly.  "Just fine, Harry.  You just make sure you don't
make me look bad.  After all, I taught you everything I know."
       "That's why you have so little left," B'Elanna teased and Tom laughed.
       Not completely convinced, Harry nodded and moved away with the crowd.  Only
B'Elanna hesitated.
       "You're awfully quiet tonight," she observed.
       Tom sighed.  "I'm a quiet sort of guy."
       "Since when?"
       "B'Elanna?  You coming?" called Bristow.
       "In a minute," she replied and took her seat again.  "What is it, Tom?" she
asked softly.
       He looked up into her eyes, gentle and concerned, and made up his mind. 
"I've been thinking a lot about what happened in the caves and yesterday in the
turbolift."
       "Oh," she replied, averting her eyes.
       "We can't just pretend things are the same as they were.  We need to talk
about this, B'Elanna."
       "I thought we did that yesterday," she replied.
       "We started talking yesterday.  And I know you've been thinking about it,
too."
       "I guess so," she admitted reluctantly.
       "B'Elanna, you know I'm attracted to you.  You said yourself that I've made
that clear.  I don't deny it.  I don't want to deny it.  I can't tell you how
much I value your friendship, but I also can't help hoping... well... for
something more."
       "Tom, I...."
       "I'm not asking for some kind of commitment.  I'm just asking that you not
shut me out.  That you give me... us... a chance."  The silence stretched out
uncomfortably as B'Elanna stared at the table before her.  "Have dinner with me
tomorrow night."
       Her eyes flew wide as she gazed at him and the obvious emotions he read in
their brown depths were surprise and fear.
       She shook her head nervously.  "I... I don't think that's a good idea right
now."
       "Why not?" he asked.  "Just a little time alone together, companionship,
conversation,... food?"
       She was still shaking her head.  "Tom, I need more time to think about...
everything."
       "B'Elanna....  He was about to protest, but thought the better of it. 
Slowly releasing his breath, he nodded.  "Okay, I can understand that."
       She stood up abruptly.  "We'd better join the others or they'll wonder what
happened to us."
       Tom forced a smile.  "You go ahead.  I think I'll call it a night."
       "It's early," she pointed out.
       "It's been a long day," he replied, rising from his own chair.  "Go ahead. 
Give Harry moral support.  And tell him I'm claiming my percentage of his
winnings."
       She hesitated a moment, then smiled and nodded before turning toward the
table.  Tom watched her go, then headed for the door without a backward glance.
       That had been less than an hour ago.  And now, Tom Paris was mentally
kicking himself for his stupidity.  He'd moved too fast, pushed her before she
was ready.  He knew it when he'd seen the panic in her eyes.  The last thing he'd
wanted to do was scare the girl!
       Now what was he going to do?  The obvious answer was to back off and give
her some breathing room.  Maybe he should stay away from her for a while.  That
thought held absolutely no appeal for him.  And besides, it could actually make
matters worse.
       He just couldn't leave things like this.  Checking the chronometer at his
bedside, he decided it was still relatively early.  Chances were she was still
in Sandrine's.  He owed her an apology at the very least.  And he needed to make
it clear that he wasn't trying to push her into something she wasn't ready for. 
That's the ticket, he thought.  A little repair work was definitely called for. 
Having come to the decision, he bounded off the bed and headed for the door.
                                           ***
       B'Elanna Torres wasn't paying much attention to the game.  She couldn't get
her mind off her conversation with Tom.  And she couldn't seem to forget the look
of hurt in his eyes when she'd refused his invitation.  Damn the man!  Only Tom
Paris could make her feel guilty and angry at the same time!  When she thought
about it, she had to admit to herself that Tom Paris was making her feel a lot
of things recently she'd never felt before.  And she wasn't altogether sure she
was ready for those feelings.
       Tom was ready.  He'd made that clear.  Oh, if it had only been someone
besides Tom Paris!  How could she trust a man who had made a hobby of romancing
every woman on the ship?  How could she believe that what he wanted from her was
anything more than another conquest?  How could she ever trust her heart to a man
like that?
       And how could she not?  She had come to know a very different Tom Paris
from the man he represented himself to be.  She'd seen behind the facade.  He'd
trusted her enough to reveal glimpses of his wounded soul.  She knew some of the
pain he'd endured in his life and she, of all people, could understand the need
to put up walls of protection against further hurts.  It was the Tom Paris she
had glimpsed on those rare and beautiful moments that was threatening to capture
her heart.  She could hardly admit it to herself, but it was getting more and
more impossible to deny.
       So why was she still so afraid?
       "B'Elanna?"  At the sound of her name, she shook herself back to reality
to find Freddie Bristow standing before her.
       He chuckled.  "You looked as if you were a thousand light years away.  Not
thinking about those engines of yours, were you?"
       "No," she replied in irritation.  "I do think of other things
occasionally."
       "I'm glad to hear it," he replied, then leaned a little closer to her and
grinned.  "Maybe you'd think about having dinner with me tomorrow night?  I know
you'd enjoy it."
       Geez, she thought hotly.  Was every man on board the ship in heat?  She was
about to tell Freddie just how little she'd enjoy spending another minute in his
company, but Tom's downcast face flashed before her eyes and she knew she didn't
want to be the cause of hurting two men's feelings in the same night, even if one
of them was Freddie Bristow.
       "Maybe some other time," she smiled and moved around next to Harry as he
lined up his next shot.  Kim glanced up at her and caught her eye with a knowing
expression before returning his attention to the game.  The cue made contact with
the ball, but his aim was off, his shot went wide of its intended target.  Groans
and cheers went up around the table.
       "That's it, Harry," his opponent crowed.  "You want to settle up now, or
you want me to relieve you of some more rations?"
       Harry shook his head.  "No, I think that'll do it for me.  I'll post your
winnings to your account in the morning."
       "Fine by me," Carey replied, then smiling at the Delaney sisters, offered
both his arms.  "To the victor, goes the spoils.  And, ladies, I'm ready to be
spoiled!"
       Jenny and Megan giggled as they each took an arm and allowed themselves to
be led away from the pool table.  That left only Harry, B'Elanna and Freddie, who
was about to make another suggestion when Harry grabbed B'Elanna's arm.  "Come
on, Maquis.  I need someone to console me.  And we have those resistance
percentages for the warp core to go over."  He glanced at Bristow as he steered
B'Elanna toward the door.  "Night, Freddie."
       "Uh, goodnight," he replied, then shrugged and headed off to rejoin Carey
and the Delaneys.
       "Thanks for the save," B'Elanna whispered.
       "What's a friend for?" he replied offering his arm in mimicry of Carey's
gesture and B'Elanna laughed.
       "Just don't refer to me as 'spoils'!"
                                           ***
       Tom had entered the holodeck and had just reached the door to Sandrine's
when he heard B'Elanna's laughter and saw her heading toward him on Harry's arm. 
Suddenly his resolve melted and he instantly decided this was a very bad idea. 
If she was laughing, she obviously had recovered her good mood and his appearance
could only serve to dampen it once more.  Quickly he ducked out of sight just
around the corner of the holographic building, out of the glow of the
streetlight.  He'd wait until they left, then go back to his quarters.  Tomorrow,
he'd apologize.  As he crouched in the darkness, he heard B'Elanna's voice again.
       "I don't know what I'd do without you, Starfleet," she told her escort.
       "You'd probably be having a nice romantic dinner tomorrow night," Harry
replied as they paused just outside the door.
       "Fat chance I'll ever accept his invitation!"  Tom felt his stomach tighten
at the derision in her tone.
       "I think you showed a great deal of restraint in declining the invitation. 
I'm surprised you didn't tell him exactly what you thought of the idea."
       "Oh, I very nearly did.  And maybe I should have.  He doesn't seem to be
able to get it into his thick skull that I'm just not interested.  He just can't
believe I wouldn't be attracted to someone as wonderful as he is!"  The scorn
dripped from her voice and Tom felt as if he'd been kicked in the stomach.  He
couldn't be hearing this.
       "As wonderful as he 'thinks' he is, you mean.  I guess he's just not very
bright.  Good looking, though."
       Tom felt dizzy with shock at Harry's words.  This couldn't be his best
friend talking.  Not the Harry who stood by him even when he'd learned the worst
about him.  How could the same man who had held a mob at bay shouting, "This man
is my friend.  No one touches him," be so mocking and sarcastic now?
       "Looks aren't everything, Harry," B'Elanna replied.  "Oh, he can be sweet,
but it's all so superficial."
       "Maybe I should have a talk with him," Harry suggested.  "Explain to him
that you're far too good for him."
       "I don't need you to fight my battles for me," she protested.  "No, he's
a nuisance, but a minor one.  He's just not worth the effort.  And, besides, I
actually feel a little sorry for him."
       Tom's heart was pounding painfully in his chest, the beating so loud in his
ears, he thought it would drown out the hurtful words.
       "Torres, I do believe your getting soft around the edges."
       "Maybe I've had some good influences," she replied affectionately.  "But
don't expect too much."
       "Hey, I'll take you just as you are."
       "That's part of what I love about you, Harry," B'Elanna laughed.
       It was the same laugh that always sounded like music to Tom, but this time,
the sound of it seemed to cut into him like a knife.
       "So, when do we announce our engagement?" Harry asked.
       She laughed again.  "Come on.  We have some... resistance percentages to
go over."
       "Anything you say," Harry replied.
       Tom stood frozen to the spot as he listened to the sound of footsteps
fading away.  He had almost forgotten how to breathe.  A shiver ran through his
body and seemed to galvanize him into motion.  He couldn't let himself think
about what he'd just heard.  His only conscious thought was to get to the privacy
of his quarters as quickly as possible.  He was dimly aware of passing crewmen
in the corridor, but he couldn't look at their faces.  Once, one of them called
a greeting, but he left it unanswered, afraid to trust his voice, afraid to break
the concentration that held him together.
       He entered the turbolift, which was mercifully empty, and managed to call
out his deck number.  Even then, he heard his voice crack and had to forcefully
keep himself from falling apart.
       At last he reached his quarters and almost stumbled inside, immediately
calling for the door to lock.  Only then did he let himself feel, only in the
safety of solitude did he allow the pain to return.  It cut through to his very
soul.  He leaned back against the sealed door.  How could he have been so wrong? 
It was like a terrible nightmare.  The two people he had allowed himself to trust
had been lying to him all this time, stringing him along.  They didn't want to
hurt his feelings.  They... pitied him.  He'd begun to let himself believe that
all the pain was behind him.  He remembered how happy he had been earlier that
evening, sitting at the table in Sandrine's with his friends, with people he
cared about who cared about him.  Could it all have been a lie?  Could he have
really let himself believe such a lie?  Was he that stupid?
       *...just not very bright,* Harry had said.  Had those words really been
spoken by "his" Harry?  He'd let the younger man closer than any friend in his
life and he'd counted himself blessed to have found such a friend.  He remembered
the times Harry had seemed to look up to him, the closeness that had developed
between them.  The long talks they had had.
       *Maybe I should have a talk with him.  Explain to him that you're far too
good for him.*
       Each remembered word burned through him like hot coals.  And just when he
thought the pain couldn't be worse, another voice spoke in his head.
       *He doesn't seem to be able to get it into his thick skull that I'm just
not interested....  He can be sweet, but it's all so superficial....  He's just
not worth the effort....*
       Oh, God, he hadn't felt this alone since those first nights in New Zealand. 
He was in love with B'Elanna.  He had admitted it to himself and tried to make
it clear to her how he felt.  He had been so sure she had felt something for him,
that she was just afraid to admit it because of the pain from her own unhappy
past.  But it was all a sham.  She had never felt anything for him but... pity.
       *I actually feel a little sorry for him... sorry for him... sorry for
him....*
       The words echoed over and over in his brain and suddenly he laughed.  Harry
was right.  He was stupid.  Had he really believed someone could know him as he
really was and not be repulsed by what they saw?  Who wanted to commit themselves
to a loser?  His father had seen him for what he was....
       *You've always been a failure, Thomas, and you always will be.*
       A failure.  A loser.  A... nothing.
       He was shivering now, so hard his teeth rattled, and his knees no longer
had enough starch to hold him up.  He slid down until he sat hard on the floor
and the shivering wrenched a sob from him.  Once begun, he could hold back no
longer.  He hadn't even realized how wet his face already was.  How long had he
been crying?  He didn't care.  He didn't care about anything right now.  Not
here, sitting on the floor of his quarters, in this place he had thought of as
home, the first real home he'd had since he was a child.  Now, once again, he had
no home.  It had all been a lie.  A lie he'd told himself.  He'd fooled himself
into letting down his defenses and now he couldn't even find them anymore.
       He cried until exhaustion overtook him and he fell into a restless sleep
filled with dreams that all ended the same.
       He was alone.
                                           ***
       He found himself slumped on the floor by the doorway when the computer's
preset announcement of the time woke him.  0700.  Time to get up, get showered
and dressed and meet Harry and B'Elanna for....
       It hit him once more like a sledge hammer.  No, he wouldn't be meeting
Harry and B'Elanna for breakfast.  Not ever again.  He didn't even want to get
up off the floor, much less set one foot outside his quarters.
       But he had to.  No matter what they thought of him, no matter what he knew
was true about himself, he still had a duty.  To the ship.  To the captain.  The
captain!  She had believed in him, trusted him, given him a second chance.  He
held onto that thought and forced one breath after another, in and out of his
lungs.  He sat there for a long time, just concentrating on that one thought.
       Finally, he was able to force himself shakily to his feet.  He was an
officer on this ship.  His ship.  He was entrusted with piloting it.  He was a
damned good pilot.  It was the one thing he'd always held onto and he grabbed
hold of it now.  You've done it before, Tommy-boy, he told himself.  Do it now. 
Pull yourself together.  Get yourself ready and go to work.  Don't let them know
how much it hurts.  Don't let them see how weak you are.  He pushed himself away
from the wall and slowly made it into the bathroom.  His hands were shaking as
he ran the water into the sink and splashed it into his face.  For several
minutes, he leaned against the sink, unable to bring his face up to see his own
reflection in the mirror.  When he did, he grimaced.  The man looking back at him
was almost a stranger.  Not the Tom Paris of just twenty-four hours ago.  But
there was something familiar about that face.  It had belonged to him once.  He'd
thought he'd seen the last of it.  No such luck.
       Luck.  What a joke!  There was no such thing as luck.  His father had told
him that, too.
       *You make your own life, Thomas.  People who attribute their success or
failure to luck don't know how to take responsibility for their own actions.*
       Okay, Dad.  No luck, not good or bad.  Just what I am.
       But what am I?
       "Kim to Paris."
       The sound came from his commbadge still pinned to the wrinkled uniform he
had slept in.  He had to fight down a sob at the sound of his friend's voice. 
It was about to begin.  The show must go on.
       "Kim to Paris.  Tom?"
       Taking a deep breath he tapped the badge.  "Yeah, Harry?"
       "Where are you?  If you don't get a move on, you're gonna miss breakfast. 
B'Elanna and I have been waiting half an hour."
       He stumbled out of the bathroom to look at the chronometer.  0740.  Just
twenty minutes before he was on duty.  Had it really taken him that long to pull
himself to his feet?
       "Uh, I overslept.  I'll meet you on the bridge."
       "Tom?  Is everything all right?"
       The clear sound of concern in the younger man's voice was almost his
undoing, but he steeled his resolve.
       "Yeah, just slept through the alarm.  Later, Harry.  Paris out."  He broke
the connection quickly, pausing only long enough to take a deep breath before
stripping off his uniform and stepping into the shower.  He had to look like
everything was fine.  He couldn't let them know how much it hurt.
                                           ***
       In the mess hall, Harry frowned at B'Elanna as Tom closed the channel.  "I
don't like this," he told her.  "He left Sandrine's early last night and he
oversleeps this morning?  Something's wrong."
       B'Elanna looked down at her food in silence.
       "B'Elanna?"
       She looked up into his questioning face.
       "What's going on?"
       "It's not you, Harry," she told him, looking away again.  "I think he's
just avoiding me."
       "Avoiding you?  Why?"
       She dropped her fork, giving up Neelix' latest morning concoction for lost,
along with her appetite.  She answered quietly.  "Freddie wasn't the first person
to ask me to dinner last night."
       "Oh?" Harry's eyebrows went up.  "So that's what that little conversation
you two had was about."
       "That's not all of it," she admitted.  She glanced up to find Harry waiting
for her to continue.  "Tom... thinks it time we talked about... us."
       "As in you and him?  As a couple?" he asked and she nodded.  "Well, that's
great!" he grinned, but the expression faded when she didn't look at him.  "Or...
maybe not?"
       "He's all ready for us to start... I don't know...."
       "Seeing each other?" Harry prompted.
       "Yes."
       "And I take it you're not."
       "No," she replied.  "Maybe.  Oh, I just don't know."
       "B'Elanna, you have to know how Tom feels about you.  It's written all over
his face every time he looks at you."
       "Yes, I guess I do."
       "And you can't tell me you don't feel the same thing."
       "I don't know what I feel!" she shouted, then looked around nervously as
heads turned in their direction.  "Oh, Harry, I'm just all mixed up right now. 
And Tom seemed so sure and...."
       "You got scared and turned him down."
       She looked up at him with fire in her eyes, but it cooled almost
immediately upon contact with his steady, knowing gaze.  "I guess you could say
that."
       "So now you think he's avoiding you?  That doesn't sound like Tom.  He's
not one to give up easily."
       "Normally, no.  But... I think he was taking a risk in telling me how he
felt last night and when I told him I wasn't ready... well... I think it hurt
him.  Or maybe I'm wrong and he's just giving me what I asked for... time."
       "Maybe," Harry considered.  "But if you want my opinion...."
       "I know your opinion," she told him.  "Just let it go, Harry.  We've both
got some thinking to do."
       "I could talk to him and...."
       "No," she replied immediately.  "I told you last night.  I fight my own
battles."
       "B'Elanna, this isn't a war."
       "Maybe not, but this is between Tom and me.  You have to stay out of it."
       "Okay, but I don't like seeing my two best friends hurting when it's so
obvious that you should just get together."
       The engineer smiled.  "It's always simple for you, Harry.  With Tom and me,
it's always complicated."
       "You can say that again."  He sighed.  "Okay, I'll butt out.  But I'm here
if you need to talk and I plan to tell Tom the same thing."
       Reluctantly, she nodded.  "You'd better go or you'll be late to the
bridge."
       "Well, you'll be late to engineering," he reminded her.
       "It's okay if I'm late.  I'm the boss."
       "Oh, yeah," he replied, quickly finishing his pseudo-coffee with a grimace. 
"Lunch?"
       "If I can get away," she replied.
       Harry shook his head and left her to her thoughts.
                                           ***
       Despite running all the way to the turbolift, Harry was one minute late
stepping onto the bridge.  The infraction, no matter how slight, was, of course,
noticed by Tuvok who raised an eyebrow at Kim from his security/tactical station.
       "A little tardy this morning, Mr. Kim?"
       "Turbolift was slow," he replied.  "I'll have to have B'Elanna check it
out."
       "You do that, Mr. Kim." It was the captain who replied, mild amusement in
her tone.  "Isn't Mr. Paris with you?" she asked.
       "Uh, no.  I'm sure he'll be here any minute."
       "I should hope so," she replied.
       Five minutes later, the turbolift doors opened again to admit Tom Paris.
       "You're late, Mr. Paris," Janeway informed him, her tone less amused than
it had been with Harry.
       "I'm sorry, Captain.  It won't happen again," he replied, never meeting her
eyes as he walked directly to his station to relieve the Gamma shift pilot. 
Janeway hesitated for a moment, then stepped closer to Paris' chair.  "Is
anything wrong, Mr. Paris?" she asked with a frown.
       "No, Captain," he replied.  She stared at the back of his head for a moment
as his fingers ran across the console performing a routine systems check.  She
turned and exchanged a puzzled look with Chakotay, then walked back to her own
chair.
       "All right, then.  We'll continue on course for the Galary system.
       "Course confirmed," Paris replied.  An abnormal silence permeated the
bridge.  Paris said nothing at all except in response to orders.  Then, he
replied with crisp professionalism.  After a while, it was obvious the tension
was getting to the captain, but she didn't seem to be able to come up with any
way to question her pilot's uncharacteristic behavior when he was being a model
of Starfleet protocol.  After an hour or so, she adjourned to her ready room with
Chakotay to go over some reports.  Almost two hours later, Chakotay returned,
asking Paris for a status report.  Once again, he received a concise reply.  The
first officer shot a questioning look toward Harry who could only shrug in
response, then he took his chair.
       The entire shift was uneventful and just before lunch time, the captain
emerged to find the tension among her bridge crew had not lessened.  Harry almost
sighed with relief when their replacements reported in for the lunch break.
       Tom quietly briefed Ensign Bruckner and, without another word, headed
toward the turbolift.  Harry quickly turned over his station to Ayala and
practically ran to catch the lift before the doors closed.
       "Deck Two," he called, and stood in silence next to his best friend who
hadn't even acknowledged his presence.  When the doors opened, Harry stepped off
and suddenly noticed that Tom hadn't followed him.
       "Aren't you coming?" he asked.
       "I have some things to do over lunch," Tom replied.
       "Tom, you didn't have breakfast.  You can't skip lunch, too."
       "I'll replicate something," he answered, still not meeting Harry's eyes. 
Harry stood in shock until the doors started to close, then he jumped back into
the lift with Paris.
       "Tom, what's wrong?"
       "Nothing's wrong, Harry," he answered, his tone so cool and flat it rang
warning bells in Kim's brain.
       Taking a deep breath, Harry plunged in.  "Tom, I know you and B'Elanna are
having... some communication problems right now, but...."
       "I'd rather not talk about my personal life, if you don't mind, Harry," Tom
replied in the same emotionless tone, then instructed the lift to proceed.
       "Come on, Tom.  You can't just expect me to let this go.  Something is
really wrong here.  Why won't you talk to me?"
       "Why should I want to talk to you?" Tom asked.
       Harry's jaw dropped.  There was an edge of anger in the pilot's voice.  At
least, Harry thought, it was an emotion.  If anger was all he could get out of
Tom, he'd go for it.
       "Well, forgive me for being concerned.  I thought we were friends!"
       The turbolift doors opened just as Tom's eyes met Harry's for the first
time.
       "So did I."  Tom stepped off the lift and walked down the corridor, leaving
Harry too stunned to respond.  Even when the doors closed, he had a hard time
remembering to breathe.  The look in Tom's eyes was burned on Harry's brain. 
There had been none of the anger Harry had expected.  The familiar blue eyes were
clouded with such sadness and hurt that it was painful to see.
       When he finally came to himself, Harry's first impulse was to rush after
Tom and demand to know what was wrong.  But that hadn't worked before.  It would
most likely not work now.  He thought for a moment, then made his decision and
gave the turbolift his instruction.
       "Engineering."
                                           ***
       The rigid set of his shoulders slumped immediately as the door to his
quarters whooshed closed.  Tom let out the breath he had been holding and
squeezed his eyes closed.  He wouldn't cry again.  He had to remain in control. 
It was so much harder now than it used to be.  The pain was sharp and bright. 
It had taken all his concentration through the morning to keep his thoughts on
piloting the ship.  For once, he had almost hoped for some kind of crisis to give
him something else to focus on other than the hurtful words that kept ringing
over and over in his brain.  He wasn't sure he could keep this up.  It had taken
longer than he had expected that morning to secure the mask in place.  He had
been late to the bridge.  He knew the captain felt the wrongness, but coldly
professional was all he could manage.  His mind wouldn't conjure up any of his
usual witty remarks.  How could it when it was so busy with darker thoughts?
       He had been afraid Harry would follow him to his quarters.  He couldn't
face those innocent, pleading eyes again.  He had let the mask slip once.  He
couldn't let it happen again.
       But he was so tired.  So tired of trying to maintain the veneer, to hold
the hastily constructed walls in place.  He had less than an hour to rest before
he had to march out again and face them all.  He'd have to do a better job of it. 
Harry's sincere concern had almost broken through.  How badly he had wanted to
tell him what he'd heard.  To beg him to tell him it was all a bad dream, some
kind of mistake.  But he couldn't take that risk.  If he confronted him, Harry
would be honest and tell him the truth.  He had to believe he knew his friend
well enough to know that.  And he couldn't stand to hear it again, face to face,
how their friendship was based on pity.
       The only thing worse would have been facing B'Elanna.  It would happen
sooner or later.  How could he look into the eyes he loved and see the contempt
in which she really held him?  He could only pray he had time to build the walls
more solidly before that happened.  He knew that any crack would cause him to
crumble.
       He had to concentrate on his duty.  He was still Voyager's chief pilot. 
He was a bridge officer.  He still had the captain's confidence.  It was all he
had left.
                                           ***
       "B'Elanna, we need to talk," Harry said striding across the openness of
main engineering and grabbing Torres by the arm.
       "Harry?" she asked in surprise as he steered her toward her office, not
stopping until they were inside and the door was closed.  "What's got into you?"
       "It's Tom.  Something is very wrong."
       Her eyes grew large.  "Did something happen?  Was he injured or...."
       "Not physically," Harry replied, "but... I'm not sure how to describe it. 
Even the captain and Chakotay noticed it.  Hell, everyone on the bridge could
feel the tension."
       "Tension?"
       "First, he was late and he didn't even offer the captain an excuse.  He was
so... cold."
       "He was cold to the captain?"
       "To everyone."  He was pacing back and forth in the confined space as he
talked.  "I don't know, maybe cold isn't the right world.  He was... mechanical. 
Yeah, that's closer.  He responded like a computer.  He didn't look at anyone. 
He just sat there and did his job and never cracked a joke, never spoke at all
except when the captain or Chakotay asked a question or issued an order.  I tried
to talk to him in the turbolift when we left for lunch, but he was just the same. 
He said nothing was wrong, but it was obvious something is.  I thought he was
angry at me for something.  For a minute, I thought I was going to get a rise out
of him, but...."
       "But what?"
       "It's got to be something I've done, but I don't know what it could be."
       "Harry!" B'Elanna grabbed his arm to stop the incessant pacing.  "What did
he say to you?"
       "It wasn't just what he said, it was the look on his face when he said it." 
He closed his eyes for a moment, then let out the breath he had been holding and
related the details of their conversation.  He looked up at her, desperate worry
written on his face.
       B'Elanna stared at him, her mouth hanging open.
       "Something has really hurt him, B'Elanna and somehow, I'm a part of it."
       "Harry, you haven't... you couldn't do anything to hurt him.  I know that
and so does Tom."
       "I thought he did."
       B'Elanna looked away thoughtfully for a moment.  Then, determination set
her features.  "Computer, locate Lt. Paris."
       "Lt. Paris is in his quarters."
       "Come on," she commanded and strode purposefully out the door.
       "What are we going to do?  Barge in on him?"
       "No, but he has to come out sometime."
       Harry had to shuffle to keep up as she headed down the corridor without a
word to anyone in engineering.
                                           ***
       Determined not to be late again, Tom stepped out of his quarter ten minutes
before he was due to return to the bridge only to find Harry and B'Elanna
standing there waiting for him to emerge.  The rush of panic he felt was
reflected on his face when he saw them.  Immediately he clamped down on the
desire the flee back inside and looked at them directly.
       "Harry, B'Elanna," he nodded and turned to head down the corridor. 
B'Elanna instantly jumped in front of him to block his path.
       "If you'll excuse me, I have to get to the bridge."
       "Well, you're just going to be a little late... again!" she told him.
       "B'Elanna," Harry whispered warningly, but she ignored him.
       "I see Harry has been carrying tales out of school," Tom said, standing
stiffly erect, clutching his hands into fists to still their shaking.
       "Harry is worried about you," she told him.  "And so am I."  The fierceness
melted from her features.  "Something or someone has hurt you.  I thought it
might be me, because of what I said last night.  Harry thinks he's done something
to upset you, but he doesn't know what it could be.  If we've done something to
hurt you this badly, tell us.  We want to understand.  We want to make it right,
if we can.  We want to help you, Tom, but we can't if you won't talk to us."
       An ugly sneer crossed his face.  "Funny, you didn't want to talk last
night."
       "You caught me off guard.  You... scared me.  Things were moving too fast
and I was still confused about what I was feeling."
       He shook his head.  "I don't think you were confused.  I think you knew
exactly what you were feeling.  You just thought you'd take pity on poor stupid
Tom and let him down easy.  Imagine my nerve, to actually think you could care
about someone like me!"  He pushed past her and rushed down the corridor.
       "Tom!  Stop!" she rushed to catch his arm and spun him back toward her.
       "I do care about you!  Is that what you want to hear?"
       "Yes," he replied.  "It's what a wanted to hear last night.  But now I know
it's a lie.  It's all been a lie!  I know you thought you were being kind, but
you never stopped to think how much crueler it was to make me believe in you." 
He looked at Harry.  "In both of you," he turned back toward B'Elanna, "only to
have that trust betrayed?"
       "Tom!" Harry cried.  "You can't believe either one of us would betray you. 
My God, you're closer to me than a brother could be."
       All the time Harry was talking, Tom was shaking his head.  "Just stop it!"
he cried.  "Leave me with what little dignity I have left.  If you ever cared at
all, just do that for me!  Please!"
       "This is wrong.  This is all wrong," B'Elanna told him.  "Care about you? 
God, Tom, we love you!"
       "Please.  Stop," he ground out between clenched teeth.  "No more, okay?" 
He held out his hands in front of him as he backed away.  "I'm begging you, no
more!"  With that he turned and ran away from them.  By the time they reached the
turbolift, the doors had already closed behind him.
       B'Elanna's stomach twisted as his words echoed in her mind.  She turned to
Harry and saw the same shock and pain mirrored on his face.  "This isn't right."
       "My God, Harry, what are we going to do?"
       The ensign took a deep breath, then put his hands on her shoulders.  "If
we press him now, we'll drive him even further away.  I think we should wait."
       "But we can't just let him go off like that.  You saw what kind of state
he was in.  He might do something...."
       "No," Harry denied her words before she could speak them.  "Computer,
locate Lt. Paris."
       "Lt. Paris is on the bridge."
       "He isn't going to do anything stupid on the bridge.  We have to let him
cool down and try again, try to keep things calmer.  Something has convinced him
we never really cared about him.  We have to find a way to convince him we do."
       "We can't leave him alone."
       "We won't," he assured her and led her to the lift.  "Bridge," he
instructed.  "We have to be calm.  The last thing Tom needs right now is a scene
in front of the captain and the rest of the bridge crew."
       B'Elanna nodded.  "What could have done this to him, Harry?"
       Harry didn't answer.
       He had no answer.
                                           ***
       Tom almost burst out of the turbolift and rushed across the bridge to his
station.
       "You're relieved," he spat at Bruckner, who was so surprised, he forgot to
relay the conn status before almost jumping out of his chair.  The ensign stood
looking at his senior officer for a moment before beating a hasty retreat.
       Chakotay, in charge at the moment since the captain hadn't returned from
lunch, stepped down to stand next to the pilot.
       "Mr. Paris, a little curtesy would have been in order."
       "I'm sorry, sir," Tom replied, not taking his eyes off his instruments, his
hands gripping the edge of the panel.  "I'll apologize to Ensign Bruckner at the
first opportunity."
       "You certainly will."  He continued to stand over Paris watching him as Tom
pulled his hands loose and started his checklist.  He had almost decided to say
something further when the turbolift opened again to release Kim and Torres.
       "Sorry we're late, sir."
       "Tardiness is getting to be a habit with this bridge crew," Chakotay
barked.
       "It's my fault, sir," B'Elanna told him and saw Tom's back stiffen upon
hearing her voice.  "I detained Ensign Kim to discuss the cooling manifold
reports."
       "What are you doing on the bridge, Lieutenant?" It was the captain who had
emerged from her ready room in time to hear B'Elanna's excuse.
       "I need to check the relay readings from the bridge station, Captain."
       Janeway looked at her appraisingly for a moment before replying.  "Very
well."  The look on the captain's face told anyone who saw it that she was less
than pleased with the way her senior staff had been acting of late.  She wasn't
about to put up with it much longer before she'd decide to get to the bottom of
it.
       B'Elanna and Harry quickly moved to their respective stations.
       "Mr. Paris, what's our estimated time of arrival at the Galary system?"
       There was no response.
       "Mr. Paris?"
       Still no response.
       B'Elanna, who could see Tom's face in profile from her engineering station,
shot a frightened look toward Harry.
       Anger and frustration had built to the point of eruption for Janeway.
       "Mr. Paris!" she shouted.
       Tom jumped and spun toward her, his eyes wide in shock.  "C-Captain?"
       "My ready room.  Now!"  She turned on her heel without looking to see if
he was following.
       Tom rose from his seat, struggling to keep his legs under him, and started
after his commanding officer.  When he reached the ready room, Janeway was
perched against the front of her desk, her arms folded in front of her.
       "Mr. Paris, I am not accustomed to having to shout my orders to my bridge
crew in order to obtain their attention."
       "No, ma'am.  I'm sorry, Captain."
       "Sorry doesn't cut it, Mister.  I want an explanation.  You've been
behaving oddly all day and now Mr. Kim and Ms. Torres seem to be catching this
disease of erratic behavior.  I want to know why?"
       "I-I have no excuse, Captain.  You have every right to put me on report."
       "Well, it's good to know I have your permission."
       "I didn't mean... that is... I'm sorry..." Giving up, Tom squeezed his eyes
closed and clasped his hands behind his back.
       "You have nothing more to say for yourself?"
       "No, ma'am."
       For the first time since she'd reached the boiling point, Janeway took a
good look at the young man standing before her.  He was pale as a ghost, his eyes
were puffy and red and a little too bright, his face was drawn and his whole body
appeared to be shaking.
       "Tom, what's wrong?"  Her radical change in tone took him by surprise.
       "Wrong?  Nothing, Captain."
       "Don't give me that," she snapped, then sighed.  The last thing she needed
to be right now was mercurial.  "Are you ill?"
       "No, Captain."
       "Well, you'll excuse me for saying this, but you look like you're about to
pass out."
       "I-I'm just a little tired, Captain.  Didn't get much sleep last night's
all."
       "Tom, I can't have an officer on the bridge who is tired and distracted."
       "I won't let it happen again, Captain."
       "I don't think you can help it.  You're in no condition to be piloting this
ship."
       She thought for a moment he was going to collapse and his pallor went even
whiter.
       "No, please, Captain.  I won't let you down.  Please, don't relieve me from
duty."
       She looked at him for a moment.  "Unless you can give me a good reason for
why you're in the state you're in, I have no other choice.  My first concern has
to be for the safety of this ship and its crew and that should be your first
priority as well."
       He hung his head in defeat.  "Yes, Captain.  You're right.  I'm... I'm
sorry."  He raised his eyes to meet hers.  "Shall I confine myself to quarters?"
       She stepped forward and put her hands on his arms and was shocked at the
strength of the tremors passing through him.  "Tom, I've no intention of
punishing you.  Frankly, I'm more than a little worried about your health."
       "I'm fine, Captain."
       "No, you're not," she returned.  "I want you to report to the doctor
immediately for a complete physical.  You won't be returning to duty until he has
certified you fit and I can in all conscience concur."
       "Please, Captain...."  The pain and desperation in his eyes tore at her
heart.  It was all she could do not to reach out and stroke his brow.
       "Tom, you're ill.  If you try to stay on duty, you'll collapse at your
station.  Now, can you make it to sickbay on your own, or would you like me to
go with you?"
       He pulled himself up straighter.  "No, Captain.  I can make it on my own."
       "It's no failure to admit you're ill."
       "T-Thank you, C-Captain."
       She earnestly wished for him to talk to her, but it was obvious he wasn't
about to.  With a sigh, she released him and watched as he walked stiffly out of
the ready room.  She followed him to the doorway and watched as he boarded the
lift.
       Everyone on the bridge watched his progress as well, and she noted a
furtive glance pass between Torres and Kim.  Perhaps this was a personal matter
of some kind, she reasoned.  Obviously, Paris' friends were aware at least that
something was wrong.  She was tempted to question them about it, but decided
against it.  She'd wait until she received the doctor's report.  She knew she
wouldn't stop worrying until she did.
       A few minutes later, B'Elanna rose from her station.  "Captain, I need to
review the reports in my office before I can proceed here."  She knew she wasn't
fooling the captain.  She only prayed Janeway wouldn't call her on it.
       The captain hesitated, then nodded.  As her chief engineer passed her on
the way to the turbolift, Janeway said softly, "Mr. Paris should be in the
sickbay by now."
       B'Elanna turned to look at her in surprise, then seeing the understanding
on the captain's face, she forced a timid smile and a whispered "thank you"
before proceeding toward the lift.
                                           ***
       As soon as the doors closed, Tom fell back against the wall.  It was
finished.  He was finished.  The last thread holding him together had just
snapped.  He had lost the captain's confidence.  He had lost the conn.  He wasn't
fit to pilot the ship.  Janeway had been right.  It would be just short of
criminal for him to insist on remaining in the pilot's chair when he couldn't
even concentrate long enough to follow orders, when his hands shook so violently
that he couldn't press the right controls.  In a crisis, he could have killed
everyone on board the ship.  Another 140 plus lives to add to the three he was
already responsible for obliterating.
       His father's voice rang in his ears.
       *You've always been a failure, Thomas, and you always will be... a
failure... a failure... a worthless failure....*
       And another voice joined the chorus:
       *...not worth the effort... worthless... worthless....*
       No wonder Harry and B'Elanna couldn't ever really care about him.  No one
could depend on him.  He was a failure at everything he tried.  No one could ever
love him.  It was all gone.  Everything he'd ever thought he'd had.
       The tremors coursed through his body with so much force his knees collapsed
under him and he crashed to the floor.  Suddenly, the turbolift seemed to close
in on him, growing smaller and smaller.  The air was becoming thinner, too, so
thin he couldn't seem to catch his breath.  His heart was pounding, trying to
break free of his worthless body.  A clear thought entered his mind.  Maybe he
would die here.  Could you really die of failure?  Maybe it would be better if
he did.  Better for everyone.  Maybe someone would even be sorry he was gone. 
For a little while... before they forgot all about him.  Then, one day, someone
would be talking in the mess hall over dinner and say, "Back when that failure
was the pilot?  You remember?" and they'd spend the next ten minutes trying to
recall his name.  They'd finally give up.
       Not worth the effort.
       No, a part of his mind rebelled.  It isn't fair.  I've worked so hard, I've
tried my best.  I don't want it to end like this.  I don't want to be forgotten. 
I want someone to care about me, to be proud of me.  I want to prove myself...
to myself.  I don't want to die.  I don't want to die.
       He didn't even notice the turbolift begin to move, called by a summons to
another location on the ship.  He didn't hear the doors open and his mind barely
registered someone calling his name in alarm.  Only when the familiar alien
features and the shock of orange hair swam in a blur before his eyes did he
realize who had found him.
       "H-Help me," he gasped.
       "Hold on, Tom!" Neelix called.  "We're just down the corridor from sickbay. 
I'll get you there."
       With a strength one would not readily ascribe to the stocky little
Talaxian, Neelix hefted Tom to his feet.  Paris could never have managed to
support himself alone, but he managed to keep his feet under him and moving as
Neelix pulled his arm over his shoulder, grasped his waist with the other hand
and started moving down the hallway as quickly as he could.
       The doors to sickbay opened as he approached and Voyager's Emergency
Medical Hologram, already activated and working on some lab experiment, rushed
immediately to help Neelix.  Just as he reached them, the last of Tom's strength
ran out and Neelix found himself with the dead weight of the much taller man. 
He managed to hold on until the doctor could shore up Tom's other side and they
quickly carried him to the nearest biobed.
       "What happened?" the EMH asked.
       "I don't know," Neelix replied.  "I found him collapsed in the turbolift. 
He's having trouble breathing."
       The doctor quickly initiated a scan, frowned, and ran the scan once more. 
Then he turned and retrieved a hypospray and pressed it against Tom's neck.
       "Try to take slow, even breaths, Mr. Paris," he instructed.
       "Don't... don't want... to... die...."
       The doctor gave him a sharp look.  "You are not about to die, I assure you. 
Not while I'm your doctor."
       "No one... would... care."
       The doctor and Neelix exchange disbelieving looks.  "That's ridiculous!"
the doctor snapped.  "Now, concentrate on those breaths, Mr. Paris.  You're
hyperventilating, your heart rate is elevated and you're showing all the classic
signs of shock, but I can find nothing wrong with you that could have caused
this.  I need you to calm down and you'll be fine."
       Tom closed his eyes and concentrated on the doctor's voice as he continued
to speak.  He could feel the tightness in his chest lessening.  He wasn't in the
turbolift any longer.  He had plenty of air.  He kept reminding himself of those
facts.
       "That's better.  You're going to be all right."  He could feel the doctor's
hand resting on his chest, feel it move with every rise and fall of breath he
took.  The touch was somehow reassuring.
       He could also feel a hand on his shoulder and he turned toward its owner. 
Neelix was watching him intently, a look of distress on his expressive features. 
When he saw Tom looking at him, he forced a broad grin.  "That's it, Tom.  You're
going to be just fine.  Just fine!"
       "Thank... you," he whispered.
       "You're doing very well, Mr. Paris.  You were just scared, but your going
to be all right."
       "Scared...." Tom repeated.
       "I don't know if you were scared, but I sure was, yessiree, I can tell
you!" Neelix' whole body bobbed as he talked.
       "You?" Tom asked.
       Neelix looked at him in surprise.  "Of course, I was, and I'm not ashamed
to admit it.  When those doors opened and there you were, gasping for breath and
mumbling about dying...." He shivered.  "It's scary to find a good friend in that
state."
       "Friend?" Tom asked, and there was something in the way his eyes
desperately searched Neelix' that shocked the Talaxian.
       "Of course, you're my friend!  We had that little misunderstanding back in
the beginning, but we're well past that, I certainly hope.  You're one of the
best friends I have, Tom, you know that."  He squeezed Paris' shoulder even
tighter and was shocked again to see tears in the man's eyes brimming over and
rolling down the side of his face.
       At that moment, the sickbay doors opened again and B'Elanna Torres came
rushing in.  The sight before her froze her in mid-stride.  "Tom?" she asked, her
voice cracking.
       "No!" he cried as soon as he saw her.  "No, I don't... I can't...."  Once
again he started gasping for air.
       "Mr. Paris!" the doctor called.  "Tom!  Calm down!"
       "Please, B'Elanna,... I... I can't...."
       "Lt. Torres, you'll have to leave immediately," the EMH ordered.  B'Elanna
looked at him in disbelief.
       "No, I can't just leave him like this.  I have to talk to him!"
       The doctor stepped away from his patient to stand directly before her
speaking in a low, tight voice.  "Mr. Paris is suffering from a panic attack. 
It is important he remain calm and not be excited.  Whatever it is you feel you
need to talk to him about will have to wait until he has calmed down and gotten
some rest.  Lieutenant!"
       She pulled her eyes away from Tom to look at the doctor.  "Right now, the
best way you can help him is to leave this sickbay immediately!  I'm sorry, but
I don't have time to be tactful."  He turned toward the Talaxian.  "Mr. Neelix,
could you please go with Lt. Torres and see that she understands the situation. 
I don't need two patients on my hands.  And please see to it that I have no
further interruptions."
       "Right away, doctor," Neelix replied, taking hold of B'Elanna's arm gently,
yet firmly.  "Come on, B'Elanna.  Right now, we have to help Tom the best way we
can, even if it is by leaving him alone."
       "But he's not alone.  He has to understand that."
       "Not now!" Neelix whispered fiercely, steering her toward the door.  Once
outside, B'Elanna turned away from him and pounded the wall.  Neelix could only
stand and watch and feel utterly helpless.
       "Now," the doctor said to Tom.  "We'll have no more of this.  Whatever it
is that's upset you, you have to let it go.  You're safe here.  No one will
bother you.  You don't have to see anyone unless you want to, do you understand?"
       Tom nodded, trying again to control the panic that had overtaken him.  The
doctor pulled a stool up next to the biobed and waited until his patient had
begun to relax.  "I gave you a mild tranquilizer.  That should help."
       "Yes," Tom replied.
       "Now, would you like to calmly tell me what happened?"
       Tom shook his head.  "I just... couldn't stop shaking and... the turbolift
seemed to be closing in on me.  I couldn't breathe."
       "What you've suffered is a severe panic attack.  Have you ever experienced
claustrophobia before?"
       "No, never," Tom replied.
       "Then I must assume this was just a manifestation of the attack."  He
waited a moment to let this sink in.  "Would you like to talk about it?"  Tom
shook his head, and the doctor sighed.  "I realize I'm probably not the first
person you would think of to confide in.  I'm quite aware of the reputation of
my bedside manner, but you should know that as your physician, anything you tell
me will be held in the strictest of confidence.  My obligation is to you.  If
what you tell me endangers the ship, I must inform the captain of that fact, but
only that fact.  Do you understand?"
       "Why?" Tom asked.
       The doctor frowned.  "Why what?  Why must I inform the captain of any...." 
Tom was shaking his head.
       "No, why would you care about me?"
       The doctor looked taken aback.  "Well, aside from the obvious answer that
you are my patient and your well-being is my primary purpose for existence, I'd
like to think I might be able to help you for purely personal reasons.  You are
one of my most frequent visitors here in sickbay and...," he stopped.  "Mr.
Paris, please, talk to me.  As a friend?"
       "A friend?"
       "You understand the concept, I assume," he retorted.
       "I... thought I did."
       "This has to do with Lt. Torres, doesn't it?"  When Tom's eyes widened, the
doctor placed a hand on his shoulder again.  "Try to remain calm.  I don't know
what has upset you, but whatever it is, I understand it has caused you great
distress.  The first step is getting through this crisis is to let out some of
those feelings."
       "I'm not very good at that, Doc," Tom admitted.
       "Believe me, I'm aware of that."
       Tom thought for a moment then looked at the EMH.  "I guess I just realized
how little my life is worth.  Shouldn't have taken me so long, I know, but I made
the mistake of letting myself believe I could actually make something of my
life."
       "And you've decided you don't want to do that anymore?"
       Tom looked at him in surprise.  "No, I... I want to.  I wish I could.  It's
just... I've always been a failure and I always will be."  He laughed.  "My
father told me that right after I was captured with the Maquis.  I didn't believe
him then.  Even in prison, I kept thinking someday I would prove to him how wrong
he was.  But he wasn't wrong."
       "He most certainly was," the doctor informed him flatly.  "I cannot imagine
how Starfleet has survived for so long if all its admirals have such a
intolerant, inflexible and downright stupid attitude!"
       Tom was surprised by the passion in the doctor's voice.
       "Mr. Paris, I've learned a lot about humans and human behavior since my
activation.  I'd like to think I've grown into a better... person because of that
knowledge.  One thing serving on this ship has taught me is that everyone has the
potential to become more than they are.  You can't live up to anyone's
expectations but your own.  Perhaps others can prod you, give you the strength
to try harder, but ultimately, you have no one to live up to but yourself."
       "Don't you think some people are just destined to be failures?"
       "That's rubbish!  And you, of all people...."
       "Me?"
       "Yes, you!  Mr. Paris, you may be quite irritating at times, and I've
certainly been in a position to observe that side of your character, but you have
all the qualities that make for a fine officer and a good person.  You have
proven yourself to this crew on numerous occasions.  You've made a place for
yourself here.  That hasn't suddenly disappeared.  You have friends."
       "I'm not so sure about that, Doc."
       "Well, you can be sure.  I may only be a computer generated program, but
I'd like to think that doesn't disqualify me from deserving your friendship."
       "Of course not," Tom replied quickly, then offered up a ghost of a smile. 
"You can be a little irritating yourself, Doc, but I think we've all gotten used
to you just the way you are."
       "I chose to take that as a compliment."  A hint of a smile appeared on the
hologram's face.  "Now, something has happened to make you question your own
value and I want to know what it is."
       "I don't think I can talk about it."
       "I think you must.  And I would be... gratified... to know that you felt
you could trust me."
       "I do," Tom answered without hesitation.  "It's just...."
       "I'm the closest thing to a ship's counselor you're going to find on this
ship.  And I'm your friend.  Talk to me."
       Tom smiled.  "You're bedside manner is improving, Doc."
       "Thank you.  Now, talk."
       The smile faded away.  Tom hesitated and when he started talking it was
difficult to put his thoughts together, but the more he said, the more the words
just seemed to flow out.
                                           ***
       Harry could hardly wait until the end of his shift to rush off the bridge. 
As soon as he was in the turbolift, he queried the computer as to Lt. Paris
location and was surprised to learn he was in sickbay.  He headed there
immediately.  When he arrived, he found Neelix standing outside as if on guard
duty.
       "I'm sorry, Mr. Kim, but I can't let you go in."
       "What do you mean you can't let me in?  This is sickbay.  I have every
right...."
       "I understand that, but the doctor is quite busy treating Lt. Paris and
asked me to be sure no one disturbed them."
       "Neelix...."  Harry sighed.  "Can you at least tell me what's wrong with
Tom?"
       The Talaxian told him about finding Tom in the turbolift and described the
entire encounter with Torres.  "I convinced Lt. Torres to go to her quarters for
a while.  I imagine she could use some company."
       "Neelix, I don't know why Tom thinks we're no longer his friends, but he's
wrong.  You know that."
       "Of course, I do.  But I'm not the one that matters here.  I'm sure this
is some kind of misunderstanding, but I think you need to wait until Tom is ready
to listen.  Right now, he's emotionally overwrought.  Give the doctor a little
time to help him."
       Harry nodded unhappily.  "I'll go talk to B'Elanna."
       Neelix smiled.  "That's a good idea.  I think she could use a friend right
now and, if you don't mind my saying so, you look like you could too!"
       "What we both need is for Tom to understand how wrong he is.  We need to
know why."
       "You'll have time for that.  We're all going to be on this ship for a long
time."
       Harry clapped Neelix on the shoulder, then turned to go find B'Elanna.
                                           ***
       "Sickbay to Captain Janeway."
       "Go ahead, Doctor," the captain responded as she sat in her chair on the
bridge.
       "Could you come down, Captain?  I have something I need to discuss with
you."
       "I'm on my way," she replied.  With a silent nod to Chakotay, she left the
bridge.  When she entered sickbay, she was surprised to find the doctor leaning
against one of the biobeds, a pensive expression on his face.  She looked around
for Tom Paris, but he was nowhere to be found.
       "Doctor?  Didn't Mr. Paris report to you?"
       "Yes, Captain, he did."  He explained to her how Neelix found Tom in the
turbolift and brought him to sickbay.  "He was experiencing a panic attack, a
severe one."
       Janeway frowned.  "What caused this attack?"
       "Captain, I'm not at liberty to discuss the particulars of Mr. Paris
personal situation, but he has agreed to allow me to explain his current mental
and emotional state to you.  You are aware that Mr. Paris' feelings of self-worth
have never been what you would call strong."
       "Yes, I know," she replied, still puzzled.
       "Recent events have caused him to question his value to others, both
personally and professionally.  I believe this attack was the culmination of a
series of unfortunate events.  The last straw, as it were, was the realization
that he was unfit to function as the ship's pilot."
       Janeway paled.  "You're saying he was already in a fragile emotional state
and when I relieved him of duty, it pushed him over the edge?"
       "I'm afraid so, Captain."  He looked directly at her.  "There is no reason
to berate yourself.  Your actions were entirely appropriate under the situation. 
Quite frankly, I don't know what else you could have done and I'm glad you
directed him here."
       "I could have been a little less rigid captain and a little more concerned
friend."
       "You *are* the captain.  You were perfectly correct in your priorities, and
you had no way of knowing Mr. Paris state of mind.  You're a very perceptive
woman, Captain, but you are not a mind reader."
       "What can I do to help?"
       "Now that you understand the situation, perhaps it would be a good time for
you to be a concerned friend.  What he needs most right now is the assurance that
the people he respects consider him to be of value, not only as an officer, but
as a person."
       "Where is he?"
       "He's sleeping in one of the private rooms.  I wanted to give him some
privacy and I couldn't keep sickbay closed indefinitely."  At Janeway's puzzled
expression, he explained.  "After I managed to get him calmed down, we talked at
length.  Mr. Neelix was kind enough to make sure our discussion was
uninterrupted.  I just sent him back to the messhall."
       "Can I see him?  I won't disturb him if he's sleeping."
       "Of course, Captain."  He indicated for the captain to proceed him.
       Even relaxed in sleep, Tom's face showed signs of utter exhaustion.  His
face was still pale and drawn.  This time, Janeway didn't resist the urge to
brush the hair back from his forehead and left her hand resting there for a
moment.  She felt a movement and quickly withdrew to find Tom's eyes fluttering
open.  She looked down at him with compassion filling her expression.
       "I'm sorry, Tom, I didn't mean to disturb you."
       "It's... okay, Captain," he replied.  "I'm just kind of tired right now."
       "Of course, you are," she smiled, then her lips almost formed a pout.  "And
I'm sorry I didn't do more to help you earlier when I had the chance."
       Tom shook his head.  "You were right.  The ship and the crew is the number
one priority.  I didn't give you any choice."
       "You are a member of that crew, Tom.  And one I value more than I've ever
told you.  I should have said so earlier.  I guess I hoped you realized it
without hearing the words."
       "You have me a second chance, Captain.  I owe you everything."
       She shook her head.  "You owe me the loyalty of a Starfleet officer to his
commander.  Nothing more.  But you've given me so much more than that.  It was
never my intention to remove you from the conn for more than the time it took you
to get well.  I should have made that clear.  This ship cannot do without you and
neither can I."
       Tom looked as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't.
       Janeway continued.  "Giving you the opportunity was the easy part.  You
made a place for yourself here on your own.  You haven't just got a career on
board this ship, you have friends.  A lot of people care about you, Tom."
       "Some people just feel sorry for me," he replied.  "I know they're just
trying to be kind, but I don't want their pity."
       "By now you should know the difference between pity and compassion.  When
a friend is in pain, you hurt with them.  That isn't pity."  She placed her hand
on his arm.  "Tom, I understand that your relationship with your father was a
difficult one.  And it may be harder for you to realize what it is to be a part
of a family because of that.  But we are a family here.  Just like a family, some
relationships are closer than others.  But we support each other in so many ways
every day.  I have no pity for you.  I'm sorry for all you've had to suffer, but
I've seen how strong you are.  Whatever it is that has caused you to question how
important you are to us, it's very wrong."
       "Thank you, Captain," he replied.
       "Now, you're tired and you need to sleep.  I just want you to know that as
soon as you're feeling better, I want you right back at the conn where you
belong."
       "Yes, ma'am," he replied with a tired smile.
       As Janeway walked out, she passed the doctor standing in the door.  "He's
going to be all right, isn't he?" she asked, feeling the need for reassurance
herself.
       "He has some things to straighten out and he need to be a little
emotionally stronger to handle them, but I'm sure he'll be all right."
       She smiled.  "Thank you, Doctor.  You are also a good and valued friend."
       The doctor blushed.  "Thank you, Captain."
                                           ***
       When Tom woke up he found Kes sitting beside him smiling down at him. 
"High time you woke up," she commented.
       "How long was I asleep?"
       "About twelve hours, but you needed the rest.  Now, you need something to
eat."  She turned away toward the counter behind her.
       "That's okay, Kes, I don't want to be any trouble."
       "You're a lot of trouble, Tom," she replied, bringing a tray to him, "but
a lot of us think you're worth it."
       He sat up and she adjusted the bed to support him and placed the tray in
front of him on the bed's adjustable table.  "I convinced Neelix to abstain from
any leola root.  He spent two hours in the kitchen making all your favorite
foods."
       "He shouldn't have...."
       "He cares, Tom.  We all care."
       He looked at her narrowly.  "You've been talking to the doctor."
       "It's my job," she replied.  "But I didn't need him to tell me you're
unhappy."
       "Yeah, those latent mental abilities come in handy, I guess."
       "I didn't need any special senses either.  I know you, Tom.  I can look at
you and see the hurt in your eyes.  Perhaps it's selfish, but I want to see the
sparkle back where it belongs."
       "You've always been a good friend to me, Kes.  Better than I deserve."
       "You deserve so much more than you've ever gotten out of life, Tom.  And
you deserve friends who care about you as much as you care about them.  I count
on you to be there for me, you know."
       "I guess I'm just an ungrateful jerk."
       She shook her head.  "Just an insecure one.  Everyone deserves to be loved. 
And you are.  Please, try to believe that."
       "I'll try," he whispered.
       "Ahem."  They both looked up at the sound from the doorway and Tom was more
than a little surprised to find Chakotay standing there.  "You up to a short
visit?"
       "I, uh, guess so," Tom replied with a little reluctance.
       "I'll go see if the doctor needs any help," Kes said as she left the room,
offering one last smile to Tom before she disappeared.
       "Tom, the captain told me what happened."
       "I'm sorry about the way I acted on the bridge, Commander.  I should have
realized I wasn't fit for duty."
       Chakotay shook his head.  "We don't always think logically when we're under
a strain.  Except maybe for Tuvok."  He grinned.  "I didn't come here to accept
an apology, Tom, but to offer one."  That took Tom by surprise.  "I came down a
little hard on you yesterday.  You've always had a talent for bringing out the
ogre in me."
       "I'm sorry..." Tom started, but Chakotay held his hand up to stop him.
       "You don't have to apologize for that either.  I'm... used to it by now. 
In fact, I think of you as a challenge.  If I can hold my temper with you, I must
be approaching sainthood!"  Another bright grin flashed on his face and Tom
couldn't help but smile in return.
       "Tom, we have a lot between us and we'll probably never been buddies, but
you should know that I've grown to respect you, even if I don't think I'll ever
really understand you.  The captain said you needed a little reassurance right
now...."
       "Chakotay, if she sent you here to...."
       "She didn't send me here.  She didn't even suggest I come.  She was just
worried about you.  Give me a little credit, will you?  As I was saying, everyone
needs a little reassurance occasionally and I owe you at least a little honesty. 
I know I'm going to regret saying this, but... well, the bridge is a little
boring when you're not there making a jackass of yourself."
       Tom broke into a wide grin and actually giggled.  "Oh, man, are you going
to regret that remark!"
       Chakotay glared at him, but the hint of a smile destroyed the effect. 
"Just try to maintain a *little* decorum.  This is a Starfleet vessel."
       "Spoken like a true rebel!" Tom countered.  "What ever happened to that
staunch Maquis I used to know?"
       "Oh, he's still here.  But we all grow and change or we wouldn't be alive. 
Sometimes we backslide a little, but we eventually get back on track."
       Tom nodded.  "Understood, Commander."
       "I hope so.  I want you back at the conn where I can browbeat you again!"
       "Yes, sir."
       Chakotay smiled and walked out of the room, leaving Tom with a lot to think
about.
                                           ***
       Tom ate his lunch, which was surprising delicious, and got in another nap. 
Now he was awake and becoming restless.  He felt like he should get up and get
on with his life, but a part of him was still afraid to leave the safety of his
little sickbay sanctuary.  Funny, it was the first time he could remember that
he hadn't want to get out of sickbay as fast as he could.
       But the idea of facing Harry and B'Elanna again still made his muscles
tense up and he had to consciously fight against the return of the feeling of
panic.
       It was good to know that he did have friends, and he was willing to believe
that now.  It had surprised him and warmed him to have so many people willing to
go out of their way to prove to him that they cared.  Even Chakotay.  He shook
his head at the memory.  He might have been able to ascribe the captain's concern
and that of Kes, Neelix and the doctor, to pity, but he couldn't even conceive
of Chakotay feeling sorry for him.  There had been a time when the former Maquis
commander would have liked nothing better than to see him suffer.  Now....  Maybe
if he could gain the respect of his former enemy, he really had accomplished
something in his life.
       "Feeling a little better?" the doctor asked as he stepped into the room.
       "Yeah, Doc, I guess I am."
       "It was nice to see you smiling as I came in," the physician told him.
       "Was I?" Tom asked.
       "Yes."
       "I was thinking about Chakotay.  I guess making his life miserable is a
good enough reason to go on living."
       "You never wanted to stop living, Lieutenant."
       "I'm not so sure of that, Doc."
       "I am.  When Neelix brought you in here, you were saying you didn't want
to die.  You still have a lot to prove to yourself.  You don't have to worry
about the rest of us.  We've had enough proof to satisfy us."
       Tom narrowed his eyes at the doctor.  "I know I asked you this before, Doc,
but I still need to know.  Why do I seem to matter so much to you?"
       The doctor considered a moment before answering.  "You think that you have
insecurities, Mr. Paris, and I do not intend to make light of them, but I'm not
even a living being.  I'm just a computer program designed to serve a function. 
But I was called on to go beyond my intended purpose.  I've learned enough to
want to learn more.  I guess I have something to prove to myself as well."
       "Most of the crew has come to think of me more as a doctor than as a
program and I take great pleasure in that knowledge.  But there are a few people
on board this ship that have always treated me no different than they would a
human physician.  Kes, of course, is one of them.  You, Mr. Paris, are another. 
Even when you were arguing with me over a treatment or just to get out of
sickbay, I always had the feeling you would have been doing and saying the same
thing if the real Louis Zimmerman on whom I am based were standing there in my
place.  And, believe me, his bedside manner was no better than mine."
       Tom laughed.  "You know, you're right.  I do tend to forget you're a
hologram.  I think I'm always a little surprised to see you wink in or out!"
       "Does that answer your question to your satisfaction?"
       "Yes, it does," Tom replied.  "And I've been saying this a lot lately, but
thank you, Doc."
       The hologram gave him a crooked smile.  "I owe you for that as well."
       Tom frowned, not understanding what he meant.
       "For the nickname.  You were the first person to call me 'Doc'.  It seems
to have caught on."
       "Well, if you'd pick a name for yourself...."
       "All in good time, Mr. Paris.  Now, back to the original purpose of this
visit.  I believe it's time you had a couple more visitors.  You've recovered
sufficiently and I hope you've been heartened by the proof of your value as a
friend to some of us.  The next step in your recovery is to confront the heart
of the problem.  You need to talk to Ensign Kim and Lieutenant Torres."
       Tom felt himself tense again.  "I'm not sure I'm ready for that, Doc."
       "It won't help you or them to put it off.  Frankly, I'm sure there has been
some kind of misunderstanding.  I've received repeated inquiries as to your
health from both of them while you've been in here.  Their concern seems genuine
and, I might add, in the case of our chief engineer, I am concerned that this
episode has been almost as traumatic for her as it has for you."
       Tom looked at him in surprise.
       "She's frantically worried about you.  From what Mr. Neelix told me, she
was near collapse herself after I ejected her from sickbay just after you were
brought in.  I think perhaps the question you should consider now isn't whether
or not their friendship for you is genuine, but how much you really care about
them."
       Tom swallowed hard and looked away.  He bit his lower lip for a moment as
he came to a decision.
       "Doc, would you tell Harry and B'Elanna I want to see them?"
                                           ***
       B'Elanna was so tired of crying.  She'd spent hours alone in her quarters
doing just that before Harry came.  When they started talking, the tears came
back once more, only this time, she wasn't crying alone.  She felt like she'd
lost everything that was important to her and she didn't even know why.
       She and Harry had gone over everything they could think of that had
happened in the last few days and neither of them could understand what had
happened to make Tom doubt them.  The only thing she knew for sure was that
nothing mattered more to her than to have Tom back.  Maybe it had taken this kind
of shock to make her realize just how much she cared for him.  Now, she had to
convince him.  But would she get the chance?
       As if in answer to that thought, her commbadge sounded.
       "Doctor to Lt. Torres."
       Her heart leapt into her throat as she answered.  "Torres here."
       "I've already notified Mr. Kim.  Lt. Paris would like to see you both."
       "On my way," she replied, leaping off her bed and out the door almost
before closing the channel.
                                           ***
       Harry and B'Elanna were both very nervous as the stepped into Tom's sickbay
room.  The doctor had warned them that Tom was still to be considered fragile,
but that it was important that they resolve this matter or it would jeopardize
his ultimate recovery.  B'Elanna noticed the doctor hovering close to the door
as they went inside with no indication that he intended to leave the vicinity. 
A part of her was still angry with him for having her forcibly removed from
sickbay when Tom was brought in.  But another part of her could understand that
they had had to wait for Tom to be ready to talk.  Hadn't that been what she'd
asked of him that night -- was it only two days ago?  It seemed like a lifetime.
       "Harry, B'Elanna," Tom greeted them, his tension apparent in the way he sat
so stiffly in the bed.  His eyes were wary and his expression closed, but it was
hard for him to maintain it.
       "Tom," Harry replied cautiously.  "How are you feeling?"
       "Better, actually," he replied.  "I've had a lot of time to think and some
people who've helped me put things into perspective."
       "It should have been us," B'Elanna said softly.  "We wanted to be here for
you."
       "You're here now," he replied.  "Thanks for coming."
       "Oh, Tom, we just want to understand what we did to hurt you," B'Elanna
almost sobbed.  Tom stared at her as if he were desperately trying to see the
truth in what she said.  "Why don't you trust us anymore?"
       "That night.... at Sandrine's...."
       "Oh, Tom, I'm sorry I was such a coward, I didn't mean to...."
       He waved her to stop.  "It wasn't that, B'Elanna.  Yes, I was disappointed,
but I was also mad at myself for pushing you when I should have known you weren't
ready.  I decided to come back and apologize."
       Harry frowned.  "But you didn't come back."
       "Yes, I did," he replied, looking anywhere but at them.  "I was just about
to come in when I heard you about to leave.  I... kind of lost my own courage and
I hid around the corner."  He forced himself to look at them.  "I heard you
talking before you left the holodeck."
       B'Elanna frowned in confusion.  "You heard us talking?  About what?  I
don't even remember what we were talking about."
       Harry looked just as perplexed.
       "Funny.  I can't seem to forget it," he replied tightly.  "You... were
talking about me.  You had obviously told Harry about our talk and...."
       "Wait a minute.  B'Elanna didn't tell me about what you talked about until
the next morning.  She thought that was why you hadn't joined us for breakfast."
       It was Tom's turn to frown.  He looked at B'Elanna.  "But I heard you. 
Harry mentioned my asking you to dinner and said he was surprised you didn't tell
me what you really thought of me."  He clutched the blanket that covered his legs
and stared at it in his hand as he continued.  "You said I couldn't seem to get
it into my head that you weren't interested in me and Harry said I wasn't too
bright."
       "No, that's not true!" Harry protested, still too shocked by what he was
hearing to reason it out.
       "Harry said that you were too good for me and you said you felt sorry for
me.  That's why you've been pretending to be my friend... out of pity.  B'Elanna
said I wasn't... worth the effort."  Tears had appeared in his eyes and they
began to roll down his face.  "I guess it wasn't important enough for you to even
remember it."
       B'Elanna stood wide-eyed staring at him in utter shock.
       "Wait!"  Harry cried, turning his head as if trying to resurrect something
from the distant past.  "I remember now!  Tom, you idiot, we weren't talking
about you.  We were talking about Freddie Bristow!"
       Tom's eyes flew to Harry's face.  "Freddie Bristow?"
       "Yes!" Harry crowed, then turned to Torres.  "Remember, B'Elanna.  Freddie
has just hit on you and was about to again when I rescued you with the excuse
that we had to go over some reports."
       B'Elanna turned to him still stunned.  "Y-Yes, I remember.  We were talking
about him asking me to dinner.  I went on and on about how dense he was and how
wonderful he thought he was and that he was really so superficial and...."  She
looked back at Tom in horror.  "Oh, God, you believed I was talking about you?"
       Tom couldn't speak.  All he could do was stare at them.
       Harry shook his head.  "Oh, Tom, how could you think we'd say anything like
that about you?  Don't you know by now how important you are to us?"  Harry
marched up to the bed and grabbed Tom in a hug.  "After all we've been though,
I know you'd rather die than see me hurt.  Don't you know I feel the same way?"
       Tom's arms wrapped around Harry and hung on for dear life.  This was "his"
Harry!  His best friend was back.  It had all been a terrible misunderstanding
after all.  All that pain... and he had caused them pain too.
       "Harry," he sobbed, "can you ever forgive me?"
       "Forgive you?  What the hell for?"
       "For... not trusting you."
       "There's nothing to forgive.  I'm just so damned glad to have you back." 
Harry pulled away and looked at Tom's tear-stained face as his own tears
moistened his cheeks.  "Just don't let it happen again. Okay?"
       And that was it as far as Harry was concerned.  Tom thought his heart would
burst with joy.  He hadn't been wrong about Harry.  He had found a one-in-a-
million friend.
       "I don't know how I could have been so quick to judge you.  I was so wrong. 
I'm so sorry."
       Harry shook his head.  "Don't waste the effort in feeling guilty over this. 
I know how insecure you can be.  I guess we'll just have to try even harder to
make sure you know how much you mean to us."
       "I still remember, Harry.  What you said when we were in prison.  I'll
never forget that.  That's what I thought I'd lost."
       "I meant it then and I mean it now.  You're my friend.  No one gets away
with hurting you, not even you!"  He gave Tom one more reassuring smile, then
glanced back over his shoulder.  "Now, I think I'll go tell the doctor he doesn't
have to worry anymore."  He clapped Tom on the shoulder and squeezed his hand
once more before walking out the door.
       Tom looked up at B'Elanna.  She stood frozen in the same position she had
been, tears rolling down her face and her hands shaking.
       "Oh, B'Elanna, I'm so sorry," Tom whispered, then he threw back the blanket
and launched himself off the bed.  He stood before her for just a moment before
gently pulling her into his arms.
       Slowly, her arms moved around his neck and she buried her face against his
chest.  "I remember all those things I said.  For you to hear them and think.... 
Oh, Tom, how that must have hurt you!"
       "Shhh," he murmured in her ear.  "It's all over now.  I just hope you can
forgive me for doubting you.  I know how hard it is for you to trust someone. 
How can I ask you to trust me when I didn't trust you?"
       "How could you think I'd ever say such things about you?" she asked.
       "Because I was afraid they were all true," he admitted.
       B'Elanna pulled back and looked at him in astonishment.  "You're not stupid
or shallow," she protested.
       "Sometimes I feel like I am," he replied.  "I don't exactly have a sterling
track record.  I feel like I've been a failure all my life, until I came aboard
Voyager.  I guess I just have trouble accepting my good fortune.  I can't help
being afraid this is all some kind of a dream and I'll wake up and my life will
be just as worthless as ever."
       "You're life has never been worthless.  You've made mistakes, but you
always kept trying.  You just needed half a chance is all.  You were just as
scared of losing what we all have here as I was of admitting how much I love
you."
       Tom caught his breath and stared at her.  "B'Elanna, you just said you love
me."
       She nodded and smiled as the tears kept falling.  "I seem to suffer from
the same problem.  I can't quite believe anyone could actually love me."
       "Why not?"
       "Why did you think it was so hard for someone to love you?"
       Tom closed his eyes and grinned.  "Touche."
       She laughed.  "You know, we're quite a pair."
       "Yes, we are," he said firmly.  "And now that I have you, I'm not gonna let
go.  I love you, too, B'Elanna.  I have for a long time."
       "I think I've loved you for a long time, too.  I just wasn't as brave as
you are.  I thought the risk was too great.  But when I thought I might lose you
forever, I realized what the real risk was.  I don't want to lose you, Tom
Paris."
       "You're not going to," he promised.  "I promise I'll never hurt you again."
       She put her hand over his lips.  "Don't make promises you can't keep.  I
know you mean it.  So do I, with all my heart, but we both know life has a way
of throwing you curves.  It's enough to know that you love me.  It's more than
enough."
       "No more doubts?"
       "None."
       He pulled her close against him once more, and this time, his lips
descended on hers.  Like a starving man who'd just found an oasis, he couldn't
seem to get enough of the feel of her, the smell of her, the taste of her.  He
had thought he'd lost her, or worse, that he'd never really had her at all.  Now,
he knew she was his.
       B'Elanna's hands played over his back, his neck and up to hold the back of
his head as their kiss deepened.  She remembered her desire for him in the caves
and she knew now that not all of it had been the result of the blood fever.  She
wanted him with all her being and she still couldn't quite believe that he'd
really want her too.
       When they finally broke the kiss, they were both breathless.  Tom swayed
a little and B'Elanna held him tighter to steady him.  "Are you okay?" she asked,
concern creasing her face.  Tom's fingers moved up to trace the small lines of
worry, tracing her lips, her eyes, then gently caressing the ridges on her
forehead.
       "I'm fine," he assured her.  "I've just had a little trouble recently
losing my breath.  As soon as I find it, you take it away again."
       She smiled and caught his hand, bringing the palm to her lips and kissing
it as if it were something sacred and precious.
       "I think we both need to get some nourishment.  Why don't we find Harry and
head for the messhall," he suggested.
       B'Elanna turned her hand so Tom's was holding hers.  "Why don't we forget
Harry until tomorrow.  He's a good friend.  He'll understand.  You take me back
to your quarters and I think I can provide all the nourishment you need."
       Tom pressed his lips against her forehead and laughed.  She could feel the
vibration all the way through her body and she trembled in response.
       "Come on!" he whispered, against her skin.  "Let's find Doc and get me
sprung."
       Reluctantly, she released him.  Still holding her hand, he tugged her after
him as he left the little room, leaving behind his solitude as well.
                                           ***
       "Welcome back, Mr. Paris," Tuvok greeted as Tom and B'Elanna stepped out
of the turbolift.  "Your absence was noted."
       Tom smiled at the Vulcan.  "Thank you, Tuvok.  You might also notice that
I'm five minutes early this morning."  And I assure you, he added to himself,
that accomplishment wasn't easy.  He glanced at B'Elanna and she grinned as if
reading his slightly lecherous thoughts.
       "I'm glad to see you've learned punctuality in your absence," Tuvok
responded.
       Tom just shook his head.  He reached out and quickly gave B'Elanna's hand
a squeeze before they separated to go to their respective stations.  As he
stepped past the captain, Tom stopped and turned toward her.
       "Permission to return to duty, Captain?" the militarily correct expression
gave way to a familiar cocky grin and Janeway couldn't suppress her own in
response.
       "Permission most happily granted," she responded.  "Welcome back, Tom."
       "Thank you, Captain," he replied.  "For everything," he added softly and
she reached out and squeezed his shoulder.
       Casting a look toward the ops station, Tom winked at Harry.  Harry flicked
a look to B'Elanna and back at Tom, then mouthed the word, "Details."
       Tom smiled and wiggled his eyebrows in response.
       As soon as he'd taken over at conn, Paris turned to glance over his
shoulder at Chakotay.
       "Did *you* miss me, Commander?"
       "Like the plague, Lieutenant," the first officer replied, holding back his
own smile.
       "Well, I have it from a reliable source that the bridge has been quite a
boring place in my absence."
       "Really?" Janeway asked.  "And just who is this source?"
       Tom made the zipper-like motion in front of his mouth.  "My lips are
sealed, Captain."
       "Not likely," B'Elanna remarked from her station and shared a warm smile
with the man she loved.
       "Well, I wouldn't want to disappoint anyone.  Did I ever tell you about the
time at the Academy when my roommate and I sneaked in this luscious..."
       "Careful," B'Elanna warned.
       He turned to her and continued, "...pepperoni pizza?"
       Chakotay leaned toward the captain.  "I think I've created a monster," he
whispered a little too loudly.
       Tom glanced over his shoulder again and flashed them both a stunning grin.
       "Maybe," Janeway replied, "but he's all ours!"
       Tom's grin wouldn't fade for the entire shift.  It was nice to be home.