DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns all rights to the Star Trek Universe.
But it's their fault if they make me want to add my own final
touch to an episode that moved me a great deal.  I hope you like
it.  I've been writing a long time, but this is the first piece
of Voyager fiction I've posted.  Be kind, but please send all
comments and criticism (constructive, please) to AnnitaS@aol.com.


                        JUST BEING THERE
                     (a coda to "Real Life")

     Tom Paris paused just inside the door to Sandrine's and
slowly surveyed the establishment.  It was late, very late, in
fact, and there were few patrons occupying the holographic
facsimile of Paris' favorite Marseilles bar.  It only took him a
moment to locate the face he was seeking partially hidden in the
hands of the man seated near the dark rear of the room.  A frown
creased his face as he made his way between the empty tables to
come to a halt before the preoccupied figure that had drawn him
here.
     "Doc?" he called softly when it became apparent his approach
hadn't been noticed.
     The doctor looked up abruptly, startled out of his reverie. 
"Mr. Paris," he nodded, a look of surprise crossing his face for
a moment before his features settled into a somewhat blank
expression.  "It's a little late even for you, isn't it,
Lieutenant?  I did certify you for duty tomorrow.  You should be
getting some rest."
     Paris shrugged.  "The captain insisted I take the rest of
the day off after I left sickbay so I got in a pretty good nap
this afternoon.  Headache's all but gone."
     "Good, good," the doctor mumbled distractedly.
     Paris watched him a moment longer, then came to a decision.
"Mind if join you, Doc?"
     "I suppose not," he replied, barely sparing the pilot a
moment's attention before his eyes unfocussed again, lost in his
own thoughts once more.
     Tom sat in silence watching until, as if feeling his
companion's scrutiny, the distracted man's head rose, his eyes
narrowing toward the pilot.
     "Exactly what are you doing here, Mr. Paris?" he asked.
     Tom suppressed a smile.  "Just hanging out, Doc."
     The physician shook his head.  "I don't think so."
     A smile flitted across Paris' features and he shrugged. 
"Okay, so I was looking for you."
     "Me?" the doctor asked in surprise.  "Why?"
     "I was... worried about you, Doc," Paris admitted, his
expression a bit wistful, but the concern evident in his
penetrating blue eyes.  "How are you doing?"
     "I'm fine, I..."  He stopped and shook his head, then
dropped his gaze to the table along with the pretense of
nonchalance he had been about to make.  "No, that isn't true. 
I'm... not fine at all.  I never realized..."
     "How hard it could be?" Tom asked.  The doctor's eyes rose
to meet his companion's expression once more and he nodded
silently.  "Yeah, I know," Tom replied.  "You went back, didn't
you?" he asked.
     "Yes."
     Tom nodded, then, after a moment added, "I'm sorry."
     Doc frowned at him.  "I don't understand.  You told me to go
back... that I should finish the program.  Are you saying you were
wrong?"
     Instead of answering, Tom looked closely at him.  "Are you?"
     Keeping his gaze locked with the pilot's, he shook his head. 
"No, you were right.  Once the program was begun, I had to see it
through to the end.  I understand that now and I'm grateful to
you, Lieutenant, for telling me so."
     "But it was just as difficult as you thought it would be. 
And now you're sitting here wondering if it was really worth all
the pain."  Tom didn't really expect an answer, so he only paused
a moment before he went on.  "After I left you in sickbay, Doc, I
kept thinking about some of the things I said to you.  And I
realized that maybe it had seemed strange to you for me of all
people to be giving you a lecture on what it means to have a
family.  After all, you know something about my past.  I'm sure
you realize my own family wasn't exactly... ideal."
     "Mr. Paris, one of the first things I learned from this
experience was that an ideal family is just that... an ideal.  As
gratifying as the original program was to my ego, Lt. Torres was
right when she convinced me to allow her to make the
modifications."
     "Doc, I'm sure B'Elanna never meant for you to have to
experience... the things you have."
     "The death of my daughter?" he asked, looking squarely in
Tom's face and seeing the young man flinch slightly at the
bluntness of his words.  "No, I know she never planned it that
way.  It was a random factor in the program.  But I keep
thinking.  There should have been something I could have done to
prevent it from happening.  I was Belle's father.  I should have
been able to protect her."
     "Doc," Paris' hand grasped his companion's forearm.  "You
said it yourself.  She was a headstrong child who enjoyed taking
risks.  That was a part of what made her who she was.  You
couldn't change that, even though I suspect you tried.  I know my
parents did and it never stopped me.  You did what you could and
you were there for her when she needed you the most."
     "When it was too late!" the doctor shouted.
     "Doc, you can't blame yourself for an accident."
     The doctor looked directly at him again.  "You did."  Tom
felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach, and the doctor
seemed to sense it.  "I'm sorry.  That was hardly fair."
     "Hey," Tom forced a smile.  "Life isn't fair.  That's the
first lesson you learn in the real world.  But if you stick with
it long enough, I think there's a kind of balance to it."  He
thought for a moment before continuing.  "What happened on Caldik
Prime was my fault.  I made a mistake, then I compounded that
mistake by trying to cover it up.  And I paid a price for it.  I
can't change what happened, but since coming on board Voyager,
I've tried to move past it."
     "But it still haunts you," the doctor concluded.
     "I guess it will always be with me," Tom replied.
     "And the pain, does it ever... get easier?"
     "Yes," Tom replied, "and no."  He laughed sadly.  "I guess
that's not a very good answer, but it's the most honest.  Doc,
there is a fundamental difference here.  You simply couldn't
prevent what happened to Belle.  I know my saying that may not
mean a lot to you, but it's true.  And when you remember what
happened, you have to remember more than just the pain.  You have
to remember the joy.  If you hadn't loved her so much, it
wouldn't be hurting you now.  She must have been a remarkable
child."
     "She was," he replied.  "She was bright and so grown up, yet
so innocent."  His eyes shined with wetness.  "I can still see
the light in her eyes when she told me she loved me."  He seemed
unaware as the tears broke free and rolled down his cheeks.  "But
that light went out and she faded away into the darkness."
     "She didn't just fade away, not as long as you remember the
light and the love," Tom assured him.  He looked away.  "I
remember when my mom died.  I was six years old and I couldn't
understand what was happening.  But when she was lying there in
the hospital, the last time we visited her, she told me not to be
sad, that she wasn't really going away, and she would always be
watching over me.  There were times I forgot that, but the memory
has always come back when I really needed it.  You might think a
memory associated with death would be cold and painful, but it's
not.  Every time I think of her, I get sad, but I feel the warmth
of knowing how much she loved me.  If it hadn't been for the
pain, I wouldn't have that warmth.  It was a gift, the last she
was able to give me, but maybe the most important.  As long as I
remember her, she's with me."  He squeezed the doctor's arm
again.  "Your daughter gave you that gift.  She taught you what
it feels like to be loved without any expectations in return. 
And even though it hurts to know that you'll never see her again,
the love will always be there.  It's stronger than the pain and
it will help you grow as a person.  You'll be a better doctor for
it and a better man."
     "I'm not a man," Doc replied.  "I'm just a holographic
computer program."
     "No," Tom shook his head, meeting the doctor's eyes.  "You
may have started out that way, but you're much more than that
now.  You've grown far beyond what your programmers intended and
you have an unquenchable desire to learn more.  That's why you
created your family program in the first place, wasn't it?"
     "Yes."
     "You've just had one of the hardest lessons humans ever have
to learn, dealing with the loss of someone you love, and you've
faced it and you will grow from it.  That makes you more human
than a lot of flesh and blood people I know."
     The doctor looked at Paris for a long moment, then down at
the pilot's hand still holding his arm.  "Mr. Paris, why did you
seek me out tonight?"
     Paris frowned.  "I told you, I..."
     "No," the doctor interrupted.  "Why did you care?"
     He waited for Tom to laugh and make some kind of joke.  It
was what he would have expected from the cocky, self-assured
image of Voyager's hotshot pilot.  But with a newfound insight,
he seemed to be able to see past that image now.  Tom sensed the
doctor's need for honesty and his reply was straightforward and
sincere.
     "Because you're my shipmate.  You've saved my life more
times than I care to think about.  Because, like I told you this
afternoon, this crew has become my family and you're an important
part of that family.  I don't think of you as a computer program,
Doc.  I think of you as my friend."
     Tom held his companion's gaze for several seconds before the
doctor finally turned away.
     "Thank you, Mr. Paris," he replied.
     "Anytime, Doc."
     After a moment, the physician seemed to pull himself
together and faced Paris once more.  "Well, I should be getting
back to sickbay.  I've neglected my duties today for personal
reasons."
     "You have the right," Tom replied.
     "Perhaps, but there is a lot of work to be done."
     "I know sometimes throwing yourself into your work helps,
but it isn't always enough," Tom told him.  "If you ever need to
talk...."
     The doctor's expression told him just how much the offer
meant to him, even if his words seemed to belie it.
     "I'll keep that in mind.  That is, as long as you're
available and not off trying to get yourself killed again."  It
was the same remark that had begun their emotionally charged
conversation that afternoon, but the doctor's tone this time was
gentler and even held a bit of humor.
     "I'll try to keep that in mind, Doc."
     "Good evening... Tom."
     Paris smiled brightly.  "Good night, Doc."
     "Computer, transfer the EMH program to sickbay."  A moment
later, he disappeared in a twinkle of light.  Tom sat still,
staring down at the table, his own memories brought to the
surface by his talk with the doctor, and felt a burning in his
own eyes.
     "Mind if I join you?"
     He looked up in surprise to find B'Elanna Torres looking
down at him with a strangely gentle expression on her often
fierce features.
     "Not at all," he replied.  "But I might not be very good
company tonight," he warned.
     "I don't think the doctor would agree," she replied.
     He looked up at her in surprise.  "You weren't
eavesdropping, were you, Torres?"
     "I didn't mean to be, but I was over at the next table and I
was afraid walking by you two to leave would have been more
disrupting than staying.  And..."
     "And..." he prompted.
     "I'll admit I was curious."
     "How much did you hear?"
     "All of it."
     Tom nodded.  "The doctor's pretty upset about losing his
daughter."
     "I didn't know until just a few minutes ago when I heard you
talking," she replied sadly.  "I feel responsible.  If I hadn't
convinced him to let me change the program...."
     "No," he told her firmly.  "If you heard our conversation,
you know he doesn't blame you and you shouldn't blame yourself
either.  You didn't know this would happen."
     "No."
     They didn't say anything for several minutes, then B'Elanna
leaned toward him across the table.  "Tom, what you said to the
doctor... I know it wasn't easy for you."
     "Maybe not, but he's just learning what being human is like. 
He needed someone to... I don't know... just be here for him. 
Sometimes that's all it takes.  I just thought he should know
someone cared that he was hurting."
     "Yeah."
     The silence stretched once more.
     "B'Elanna?"
     "Yes?"
     "Why did you... why are you here?"
     She looked at him intently before she replied.  "I'm just
being here."
     An expression that blended astonishment with gratitude
ghosted across his face as he smiled and reached out for her
hand, almost surprised when she didn't try to pull it away. 
"Thanks.  It's nice to have the company."  He took a deep breath,
then grinned slyly.  "As long as you aren't entertaining any
immediate plans to shove a knife in my throat, can I buy you a
drink?"
     She unsuccessfully tried to suppress a smile.  "Oh, I think
you're safe for the moment, but I make no promises."
     His blue eyes twinkling, Paris laughed and headed to the bar
for the drinks.  B'Elanna watched him thinking, not for the first
time, how much she enjoyed that sound.

*********************
"The bond that links you to your true family is not one of blood
but one of respect and of joy in each other's life.  Rarely do
members of one family grow up under the same roof."  Richard
Bach, Illusions

from one who knows how true this is.
AnnitaS@aol.com.