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But it's their fault if they make me want to add something to it! 
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(constructive, please) to AnnitaS@aol.com.


MEMORIES AFTER MIDNIGHT

     It was late, very late, well after midnight, in fact, by the
time B'Elanna Torres finally located the faulty relay she had
been searching for all day.  It took another hour to make the
needed repair.  She finished up in Engineering, leaving a message
for Lt. Carey that she wouldn't be in until late the next day.
     As she headed for her quarters, a growl from the vicinity of
her stomach reminded her that while she had been lying under
consoles and crawling through Jeffries tubes all day, she had
missed not only lunch but dinner.  The need for sustenance
outweighed her desire for sleep, so she changed course and headed
for the mess hall.  It was well into the deep night shift, as
time was measured on the starship, past the time the second shift
crew who had sought out a meal after work would have come and
gone.  The deep night shift ordinarily did not partake of a mid-
shift meal since Neelix was in bed by that time, so she hadn't
expected to find anyone in the mess hall when she stepped in.
     As she expected, the large room was only dimly lighted, the
sole illumination coming from the lights at the serving bar where
Neelix always left fruit, some sandwiches and pastries for anyone
who couldn't sleep.  She had taken only a couple of steps toward
the bar when a faint sound drew her attention to the far side of
the room.  A lone figure sat at the farthest table near the
panoramic viewport, his gaze fixed to the stars that streaked
past at warp speed.  With surprise, B'Elanna realized it was Tom
Paris.
     Her mind went back to that afternoon when the crisis of Tom
and Harry's imprisonment by the Akritarians had been resolved by
the captain's raid on the orbital prison.  B'Elanna had been in
Engineering, as usual.  This time, it had not only been her usual
workload that drew her there so much as because she had
desperately needed something to keep her mind focussed on
anything but her concern for her friends.  Harry had been her
first friend among this Starfleet crew and she still felt very
close to the young ensign.  Who wouldn't find themselves drawn to
Kim's open enthusiasm and fierce loyalty?  It was easy to like
Harry.
     It had not been so easy to like Tom Paris, but as time
passed she had begun to see there was more to the arrogant,
boastful pilot than she had at first given him credit for.  And
the more she learned about him, the more drawn to him she felt. 
She had finally accepted that Tom had become her friend.  She was
still struggling with those feeling deep within her that hinted
that he could become more.
     Her relief upon hearing of Tom and Harry's rescue was short-
lived when she learned that Tom had been seriously injured. 
Uncharacteristically for the workaholic chief engineer, she
dropped what she was doing and headed immediately for sickbay. 
By the time she arrived, Tom and Harry had left.  Neelix, who was
still there talking to Kes, filled her in on what had happened
and Kes assured her that both Tom and Harry would be fine.  They
had gone off in search of a celebratory meal.  B'Elanna had been
greatly relieved, but a nagging concern almost took her to the
mess hall then and there.  Finally, she talked herself out of it,
feeling that it might be best to give her two friends time
together to come to terms with what they had been through.  She
had returned to doggedly tracking down that malfunctioning relay,
not that it was by any means critical, but she still needed to
occupy her mind.  Besides, B'Elanna Torres was never one to leave
a task until it was finished.
     A second sound brought her thoughts back to this moment in
the mess hall and to the man staring out into space, still
oblivious to her presence.  Even in the dim light, B'Elanna could
see simply by his posture that something was wrong.  It took a
moment for her mind to process that thought and combine it with
an identification of the sound she had heard.  Could it have been
a sob?  Even as she considered this, she saw Paris lower his face
onto his folded arms as they rested on the table.  The muffled
sounds she heard now were impossible to deny and the knotting in
her stomach had nothing to do with a need for food.
     Hesitating only a moment, she quietly made her way across
the room.  As she grew nearer, she could see the shaking of his
shoulders and hear the ragged sobs.  Any remaining indecision
vanished and she moved immediately to sit next to him.
     "Tom?" she whispered softly, resting her hand on his
trembling shoulder.  Immediately, his head popped up in surprise,
and immediately she noted his face was very pale, his lips seemed
to tremble, his cheeks were wet with tears, the area around his
eyes was swollen--all evidence of a long period of crying.  And
his eyes... there was a pain and sadness in those blue eyes that
immediately broke the half-Klingon lieutenant's heart and made
her breath catch in her throat.
     "B'Elanna, I..." he began, his voice hoarse and cracking.
     "Shhhh," she interrupted, reaching her arms around him and
drawing him to her.  At first, he seemed to resist, but his need
for comfort made the resistance weak and he allowed her to guide
his head against her shoulder.  She wrapped her arms around the
still quivering body, one hand against his back, moving up and
down in a motion she hoped was comforting, the other cradling the
back of his head, her fingers burying themselves in his soft
hair.
     "It's all right," she whispered.  "Go on.  Let it out.  I'm
right here."  She continued to murmur gentle reassurances to him
and for several minutes, he allowed his tears free reign.  When
at last the sobbing abated and she felt him start to pull away,
she immediately released him.
     At first, he didn't seem to want to look up at her.  Slowly
she raised her hand to his face, wiping away at the wetness that
was still there.  At her touch, his eyes finally met hers and
once more she found it hard to breathe.
     "I'm sorry," he whispered.
     She shook her head.  "I'm your friend, Tom.  You were there
for me when the Vidiians captured us.  Give me a chance to be
here for you when you need someone."
     Fresh tears fell from his eyes, but he quickly wiped at them
as he tried to pull himself straighter.  "Thanks," he said and
tried for a smile that was a painfully weak imitation of his
usual bright expression.
     B'Elanna gave him a moment to collect himself before she
asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"
     He hesitated, then shook his head.  "I... don't think so."
     B'Elanna nodded.  "That's all right.  Maybe I'm not the
right person anyway, but you need to talk to someone.  Maybe
Harry could..."
     "No!"
     She jumped at the intensity of his reaction.  He looked away
before he spoke again.  "This isn't something I can talk about to
Harry."
     "Then talk to me, Tom.  Please, trust me."
     His eyes met hers again.  "I do," he replied and the
sincerity in his voice was clear.  "But how can I..."
     "Just talk, Tom.  I'll listen.  Kahless knows, I don't have
a lot of answers, but sometimes all it takes is someone to
listen.  Someone that you can trust."
     He looked at her again, his eyes drinking in her face as he
considered her words.
     "Is it about what happened in the prison?"
     He looked away again, then closed his eyes and nodded. 
"Yes," he whispered, "in... prison."
     There was something about the way he said the word that made
her recognize an importance beyond what his tone implied.
     "I know they hurt you, Tom," she told him.  "I spoke with
Neelix and Kes this afternoon."
     "You mean the knifing?" he asked.
     She nodded.  "And the implant and how it made you feel."
     "Do you know Harry is feeling guilty?" he asked.
     "About what?"
     Tom took a deep breath.  "After I was hurt, I was pretty out
of it a lot of the time.  It was so hard to fight against that
damned implant.  It made you paranoid, you know?  And I didn't
know what I was doing some of the time.  Didn't even know where I
was sometimes."  He took another breath and seemed to gather
himself to continue.
     "We had this circuitry pipe that Harry had rigged to try and
disable the field around the chute.  It looked like our only way
out.  While Harry was gone... I don't know what I was thinking...
I tore the wiring out of the pipe.  When Harry came back and
found what I'd done, he lost it.  It wasn't him, it was the
clamp.  I know that.  But Harry won't accept that."
     "What happened?"
     "He... he came close to braining me with the pipe.  He
believes he was about to kill me."
     "Oh, Tom," B'Elanna gasped.
     "It wasn't his fault, B'Elanna.  How can I blame him, after
what I..."
     He started to look away, but B'Elanna caught hold of his
chin and turned him back to face her.  "Tom Paris, if you're
blaming yourself for destroying the pipe, then you're being just
as irrational as Harry is.  Don't you see that?"
     He sighed.  "It wasn't just the pipe."  She waited until he
was ready to speak again.  Finally, he continued.  "When I was
first hurt, I knew I was going to be no help to Harry, just a
burden.  I told him if he found a way out, to take it, not to try
and come back for me.  I wasn't being noble, B'Elanna.  I knew I
was done for.  There was no way to treat the wound.  I was going
to die.  If Harry tried to save me, he wouldn't have any chance
to save himself.  I wanted at least one of us to survive.  But
then I got sicker and I got so scared.  I kept remembering..." 
He bit his lower lip to try and stem the tide of emotions that
was once more threatening to overwhelm him.
     "It's all right.  Take your time."
     He nodded.  "When Harry was gone to look for food or to try
and find a way up that chute, I was alone in the shelter.  I
could hear the voices of the others outside.  I could hear them
laughing.  It was all so familiar.  Sometime I forgot where I
was.  I was back..."  He stopped abruptly, then continued, "I was
hurt and I knew I couldn't fight them if they came for me.  I was
so scared, B'Elanna.  I was so afraid of being alone."
     "Of course you were," she told him.
     He shook his head.  "You don't understand.  When Harry came
back, I begged him.  I begged him not to leave without me.  I
begged him not to leave me there alone.  How could I do that to
him?  I, of all people, knew what I was condemning him to.  He
wasn't going to make it out if he tried to take me with him.  And
if he stayed..."  He sobbed and turned eyes full of tears and
self-loathing toward her.  "How could I do that to my best
friend?"
     "Tom, you said it yourself.  You were hurt, probably
feverish from the infection, and on top of that, the implant made
it all so much worse.  It made you act in a way you never would
have normally.  Just like Harry."  She paused and emphasized each
word as she repeated herself.  "Just--Like--Harry.  If you blame
yourself for not being strong enough to fight the implant, then
you have to blame him for trying to kill you."
     "It isn't the same thing," he insisted.
     "Okay, maybe it's not.  You were fighting against not only
the implant but your pain.  Tom, you know how Harry feels about
you.  He could never in a million years even consider hurting
you.  And yet, he almost killed you.  The clamp caused that.  And
he wasn't fighting against the pain of an injury or haunted by
ghosts from his past like you were.  You're holding yourself up
to an impossibly high standard.  Let it go, Tom.  Don't let it
eat at you because it isn't true.  You didn't betray Harry.  You
never would.  He's your friend.  You wouldn't let anything in the
world hurt him."
     Tom suddenly laughed.  "That's almost exactly what he said
to the inmates just before the captain showed up.  I was pretty
much out of it, but Harry told me the inmate he had bribed for
shelter had decided to throw us out.  Harry was standing over me
with only the pipe to defend us both.  The others smelled blood. 
They were after my clothes, my boots, anything they thought they
could use.  But Harry wouldn't let them come near.  I heard him
say, 'This man is my friend.  No one touches him.'"  Tom
swallowed hard.  "I told Harry, that's what I will remembered. 
He was willing to die for me, B'Elanna.  Even when I was already
a dead man."
     "And before you were hurt, weren't you trying to protect
Harry?  Tom, if the situation had been reversed, if it had been
Harry who was hurt, would you have done anything different?"
     Tom looked at her a moment then looked away.  "I don't
know."
     "Well, I do," she replied.  "When we were captured by the
Vidiians, remember when they came for Durst?  How well did you
know him?"
     "Not well," he admitted, unsure where she was going with
this.
     "He had only been on bridge duty a few times.  You'd
probably seen him a couple of times in Sandrine's."  Tom nodded. 
"You hardly knew the guy and when they came for him, none of us
had any doubt what they were planning to do.  We all knew the
Vidiians were going to kill him and harvest his organs.  Even
knowing that, you tried to get them to take you instead. 
Remember?"
     "I was in command of the mission.  It was my responsibility
to..."
     B'Elanna nodded.  "It was your responsibility, even if you
didn't know him, to die for him?"
     "Yes," Tom replied.  "If it came to that."
     "And you protected me, too.  You didn't really know me then. 
In fact, we hadn't exactly been on the best of terms.  What I
remember most about our previous encounters was calling you a
pig."
     Tom smiled.  "I remember."
     "But I was your responsibility, too, wasn't I?"
     "Yes," he replied.  "But what does this have to do with..."
     B'Elanna interrupted.  "And on this mission, you were the
senior officer, correct?"
     Tom nodded.
     "But Harry wasn't someone you didn't know.  Just someone who
was your responsibility.  Harry is your best friend."
     "He's the first real friend I ever had," Tom agreed.  "And I
failed him."
     "How?" she demanded.  "Harry is alive.  He didn't die and
you didn't die.  You survived, Tom, both of you, because you both
looked out for each other.  Because either one of you would lay
down your life for the other."
     "If the captain hadn't come when she did, we both would have
died."
     "And if the Caretaker hadn't yanked our ship to the other
side of the galaxy, Voyager wouldn't have come looking for us. 
Captain Janeway wouldn't have needed a former Maquis to act as
guide, you would still be in prison in New Zealand and you would
have never met Harry Kim.  Now, if you want to play 'what if',
you can count me out.  There's no point to it.  If you dwell on
what might have been, you lose track of what is."  She was silent
for a moment to let him absorb what she had said.  "You survived
as long as possible.  You gave us time to find out where you were
and to get you out of there."
     "Besides," she continued, keeping a careful eye on him.  "I
don't think that's what's really bothering you.  You have to know
your actions were no more your fault than Harry's were his. 
You're to much of a realist to wallow in guilt over something you
know wasn't your fault.  I'm sure you told Harry everything I've
told you and then some."
     "We talked for hours."
     "And you never told him what you were feeling?"
     "How could I?" he asked.  "You know Harry.  If he thought I
was feeling guilty, he'd find some way to turn it around and make
that his fault, too!"
     B'Elanna nodded.  "Sounds familiar."  She smiled at him and
she saw the light dawn in his eyes.
     "You're a sneaky Klingon!"
     "Thank you," she replied.  "But I'm not letting you off the
hook so easily.  Not until we talk about what's really hurting
you so much.  Why are you really here, Tom?"
     He shrugged.  "I couldn't sleep.  I thought maybe I'd get
something to eat, but when I got here, I wasn't hungry.  So I
just sat down."
     "And started thinking."  He nodded.  "About what?"
     "About what happened.  About how it would affect Harry.  I
know what prison can do to someone young and unprepared.  I know
how it can twist you, it can make you lose your belief in
everything your ever held dear.  You learn you can't trust anyone
but yourself.  It takes away hope and leaves you bitter and...
alone.  I didn't want that to happen to Harry."
     "He's out of that prison, just like you are," she reminded
him.
     "But how much damage was done?" he asked.  "You know Harry. 
In a lot of ways, he's an innocent.  He's the most open and
trusting person I've ever known.  Will he still be that way after
this?  Will he ever be the same?"  He shook his head.  "I can see
it in his eyes, B'Elanna.  Part of that innocence is gone
forever.  He didn't come through this unchanged."
     "People don't go through life unchanged, Tom.  You can't
stay the way you are for the rest of your life.  You're always
changing or you're not really alive.  Maybe part of Harry's
innocence was lost, and I'm as sorry about that as you are.  But
Harry is strong and he'll come through this even stronger.  Don't
count him out."
     "I'm not," he insisted.  "I just don't want him to
become..."  He didn't seem to be able to find the words.  But
B'Elanna did.
     "Like you were?"
     His eyes flew to hers in surprise.  He hadn't even realized
it himself, but when she said it, he knew it was true.  He
nodded.
     "Tell me about it," she whispered.  "What did it do to you?" 
Gently she took his hand in hers.
     He started slowly, but once he had started, the words seemed
to flow out.  "Even now, prison isn't a very nice place to be. 
You're always alone, yet you're never alone.  You lie in your
room and you hear the voices outside.  You hope they stay
outside.  Things happen to people in prison, B'Elanna, even
Federation prisons.  Things you don't want to hear and I don't
want to talk about.  But physical injuries heal.  And they're
never as bad as what happens to your soul.
     "I was never as innocent as Harry, but there were things I
always trusted to be true.  Things I counted on.  All that
changed in prison.  There was nothing you could count on.  I knew
what I'd lost when I was kicked out of Starfleet, but it didn't
really sink in until prison.  My father had disowned me.  I was
on my own.  There was no one in the universe who gave a damn
about me.  I finally got to the point where I didn't give a damn
about anything or anyone, including myself.  I hit rock bottom,
B'Elanna.  I was bitter and cynical and nothing was sacred
anymore.  If Captain Janeway hadn't given me a chance, I would
have died there.  I'd never have gotten out."
     "But you did.  She gave you that chance and you took it and
you've made the most of it.  And look at yourself now, Tom. 
You're not the same man you've just described to me.  There's
still a lot of pain in those memories and always will be, but
you've overcome your past.  Don't let it drag you back down. 
Look at what you have--here and now.  You have the respect and
trust of the captain, you have friends, lots of them, and some
very close friends among them.  You have a lot of people who care
now, Tom.  And you have a Starship to fly.  Tom Paris who didn't
care about anything or anyone, not even himself, has saved the
lives of everyone on this ship because he cared.  Remember that."
     She looked away for a moment then looked back at him.  "You
and I both know the dark side of life.  We haven't let it defeat
us.  We've been through things we'd rather forget, but those
things have made us who we are.  We can never forget what we've
been through, but we have to remember where we are now and keep
in sight what we're headed towards."
     "Focus on the future, not the past?"
     "Exactly."
     Tom smiled, a genuine smile, even if it was still a little
weak.  "You know, you sound a little like Janeway."
     B'Elanna grimaced.  "That bad?"
     He laughed.  "It was supposed to be a compliment."
     "I'd rather sound like myself."
     "Then growl a little more," he quipped.
     B'Elanna sighed.  She couldn't get angry at him.  In fact,
his attempt at humor was his way of telling her that on some
level, she'd reached him.
     "Thanks," he said, growing serious once more.
     "No problem," she shrugged.  "Now, I came in here because I
was starving.  How about you go get us something to eat or you
will hear a growl... from my stomach!"
     "I think I owe you that much," he replied and headed for the
buffet.
     She'd have to keep an eye on both him and Harry for the next
few weeks, but B'Elanna was sure they would be all right.  Maybe
none of them would ever be the same.  And after this night, she
included herself in that judgment.  Something in the back of her
mind wondered why she had fought so hard to help Tom Paris.  Why
she had felt it was so important.  But somewhere in her soul, she
knew the answer.  She just wasn't quite ready to acknowledge it.
     Not yet.
                               ***
     It was a few months later and once again, Tom Paris found
himself feeling overprotective toward his young friend Harry. 
The inhabitants of a planet called Teresia had tried to convince
Harry that he was really one of their people.  All they really
wanted was to entice him to stay long enough to feed off his
energy.  The result would have been Harry's death.  Harry had
escaped, but Tom felt his own need to hover near his friend in
the wake of the incident.
     They were in the mess hall and he was listening as Harry
explained to Neelix the correlation of his experience with the
Teresians and the Homerian encounter of Odysseus with the sirens. 
Harry told Neelix it wasn't only the enticement of the beautiful
Teresian women that had been so alluring, but the feeling they
had given him of being "special."
     As they were leaving the mess hall, Harry admitted to Tom
that he wasn't always content with being just "young Ensign Kim."
     "I don't know what's so bad about being you," Tom remarked. 
"You're good at your job.  Everybody likes you."
     "Being likeable is fine, but sometimes I wish I could be
more bold, confident with women."  He looked at Tom with a
seriousness that belied the previously jocular atmosphere, "More
like you."
     "Like me?" Tom replied, genuinely taken by surprise for just
a second.  The remark hit him with the force of a hammer as he
realized his friend was serious.  For most of his life, he hadn't
been able to live up to anyone's expectations, no matter how hard
he tried.  Now, finally, he had found a place where no one
expected more of him than he was able to give, where all that was
asked of him was to be himself and to do his best.
     He remembered his early morning talk with B'Elanna and how
his greatest fear had been that, as a result of his experiences
in prison, Harry would end up like he had been.  Now, here was
Harry, the best friend he had ever had and could ever hope to
have, telling him that he wanted to be like him, that he was not
just good enough, but someone to be admired and emulated.  A warm
reassuring feeling of contentment--of peace--spread through him. 
It was almost too much for him.  But this wasn't the time or
place to get overemotional.  So, without missing a beat, he
responded in his usual, customary and expected manner.
     "You might want to reconsider that, Harry, there might be
prison time involved."  They both laughed, as Tom had planned.
     And yet, he couldn't let it go with a joke.  What Harry had
said to him had been a gift and he needed and wanted to return
it.  He bit his lower lip as he contemplated his response.  Then,
dropping his playful tone, he told his friend, "Actually, since
I've been on Voyager, I've tried to be more like you."
     For just a moment, he saw the words register with his
friend, then as if to prove he truly was becoming more like Tom,
Harry responded, "That'll be the day!"
     "I'm serious," Tom replied as they headed for the corridor,
his tone belying his words as he slung his arm companionably
around his friend's back, "you're my role model!  You're
reliable, hard working,... extremely punctual.  Did I mention
polite?..."
     Harry Kim shook his head and somewhere deep inside, Tom
Paris had never been happier.