DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns all rights to the Star Trek Universe. 
But they can't blame me for what I have been inspired to write! 
As usual, I hope you like it.  Also, as usual, be kind, but
please send all comments and criticism (constructive, please) to
AnnitaS@aol.com.

Thanks to my beta readers, DangerMom and Jamelia116, for their
assistance.  Be warned... this story is heavy on the
introspection.

Note:  This story takes place a few weeks after my story "Over
the Edge."  Rating:  PG13.



                        PIECES OF DREAMS
                            By Neetz

***************************
Little boy lost
In search of little boy found,
You go a wondering, wandering,
Stumbling, tumbling round, round...
***************************

     He stood, frozen in the near darkness, trying not to look at
the black shapes that loomed at him from all directions.  He
could hear his heart pounding in his chest, so loudly he was
afraid the monsters would hear, too.  Suddenly, in the quiet,
between the beats of his heart, there came another sound, distant
at first, but growing louder as it grew nearer.  It was a steady
thud... thud... thud... that echoed against the shadowed walls of
the large room.  He wanted to run, but he couldn't.  He was so
scared.  He couldn't breathe.  He couldn't move.  He couldn't
even turn around to look behind him.  The sound was almost on top
of him and suddenly it stopped.  He trembled as he stood for what
seemed like forever, waiting, until something touched his
shoulder and he screamed.
     Tom Paris sat bolt upright in his bed, the sound of his
screams still echoing in his darkened quarters.  His heart was
still trying to beat its way out of his chest as he struggled to
control his breathing.  Suddenly, a hand caught hold of his arm. 
It was all he could do to keep from crying out again.
     "Tom?  Computer, one-quarter illumination," the voice
called.  He recognized it and the hand still holding on to him.
     "B'Elanna," he sighed, lowering his face into his hands.
     "What is it?  What's wrong?"
     He turned to see her face, full of concern, only inches from
his.  "It was... just a dream."
     "You mean a nightmare," she corrected.  "You're trembling."
     He brought his left hand up to cover hers.  "It's okay.  I
just need a minute to...."  He closed his eyes and concentrated
on steadying himself.
     "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, pulling herself
up in the bed so she was sitting beside him.
     "No," he replied, "but somehow I doubt you'll let me off so
easy."  A smile played at the corners of his mouth.
     "Does this happen often?" she asked, not to be distracted. 
"I think I probably should know since I'm going to be spending a
good bit of time here with you while you're sleeping."
     Tom relaxed a little at the gentle reminder that the woman
he loved had recently become his lover.
     "Yeah, you could say I'm not unfamiliar with nightmares."
     "You've never talked about them... at least not to me."  Tom
thought he detected a note of hurt in her voice.
     "I haven't ever really talked about them to anyone," he
admitted.  "I suppose everyone has bad dreams occasionally. 
Really, I don't have them as often as I used to."
     "Would you tell me about this one?"
     He shrugged.  "It's not new, but I haven't had this
particular one in a while.  Usually they're about the crash or
prison or...."  He bit his lip as he realized he was giving too
much away.
     B'Elanna chose not to make a point of it.  "It's
understandable.  I've had a few bad dreams myself," she told him. 
The arm nearest him slid around his back, pulling him closer to
her.  He reached out and gently lowered her head to his shoulder,
leaving his fingers nestled in the soft dark strands of her hair.
     It took him a few minutes to find the right words to begin
as B'Elanna waited patiently, running her hand up and down his
back.
     "It was when Dad was first officer of the London.  He was up
for his first command and we were at headquarters in San
Francisco along with his captain and some other Starfleet
bigshots he was trying to impress.  I remember one of them was a
highly placed admiral.  We went to the Federation Natural History
Museum and my mother and the admiral's wife had gone off to
another section so the officers could 'talk shop.'  Of course, my
dad wanted me with him.  I was a Paris in training, after all."
     "How old were you?"
     "I don't know, probably four.  I couldn't really understand
what they were talking about and I got fidgety.  Dad got really
annoyed with me.  The last straw was when I almost knocked over
one of the smaller exhibits.  He grabbed my arm really hard and
told me to go find my mother, so I left them."
     "He sent you off alone?"
     "He thought I was old enough to take care of myself. 
Problem was, it was a big place and I was fascinated with the
displays, you know, primitive lifeforms from all the Federation
planets, and ended up wandering in the wrong direction.  It must
have been near closing time.  There was hardly anyone there.  I
was by myself in the area with the replicas of Vulcan's version
of dinosaurs when suddenly the main lights went out.  Just a few
here and there were still on, but it was really pretty dark and
all of a sudden all those fascinating creatures became huge dark
monsters."  He shivered again at the memory.  "I was terrified."
     "What did you do?"
     He laughed nervously.  "I just stood there frozen to the
spot.  Then I heard this noise.  It was one of the guards, but I
didn't know it until he came up behind me and put his hand on my
shoulder.  Scared me to death.  I remember screaming and it was
all he could do to quiet me down.  I was crying and I couldn't
stop shaking when he picked me up and carried me to the office. 
They were still trying to calm me down when my mom and dad got
there.  Mom took me in her arms and told me everything was going
to be all right, but then I saw the look on my dad's face.  He
pulled me out of Mom's arms, kneeled down and turned me to face
him.  He told me to stop crying and act like a man.  I was too
old for this kind of nonsense.  I was a Paris and Parises didn't
get scared of shadows and they certainly didn't cry."
     "You were four years old!" B'Elanna objected.
     Tom shook his head.  "I don't think he meant to be cruel. 
He wouldn't have been so mad if the admiral and his captain
weren't there to see it.  I embarrassed him."
     B'Elanna reached up and stroked his cheek.  "You were a
frightened child who had been lost in the dark.  He should have
understood."
     Tom laughed again and shook his head again.  "I don't think
my father and I ever understood each other."
     "You said you've had this dream before?"
     He nodded.  "The dream is just the part about being lost in
the dark.  I haven't had it so much since I grew up, but, yeah,
once in a while."  He turned his head slightly to touch his lips
to her forehead.  "It's okay.  I'm fine now.  I know it was just
a dream and, besides, now I've got someone to help me chase away
the monsters."
     B'Elanna turned her face up toward him and pulled his head
down until their lips met.  The kiss was more gentle and
comforting than passionate, but it imparted a warmth that seemed
to chase away the last of the dream's chilly grip.
     "I love you," she whispered, "and I'm good at chasing away
monsters."  She chuckled.  "I'll just bare my teeth and show them
my scary Klingon side."
     Tom snorted a laugh in response.  "As long as you remember,
I'm not scared of you, no matter which side."
     "I remember," she replied, wrapping her arms around him and
coaxing him to lie back down on the bed.  "Now, as much as I'd
enjoy taking this conversation to its logical conclusion, I think
we both need to get some sleep."
     "B'Elanna, you're no fun anymore!" he complained.
     "Oh, I'll be fun again... later.  Right now, go to sleep."
     "Yes, ma'am," he sighed, then ordered the lights back down
as he closed his arms around her and she snuggled close to him.
     Once again in the darkness, the memory of the terror he felt
in the dream started to creep back up on him.  He kept his arms
wrapped tightly around B'Elanna, closed his eyes and tried to
will himself to relax.
     B'Elanna lay still in Tom's arms, but she could feel the
tension return.  It was a long time before his breathing evened
out and she knew he was finally asleep.  Only then, did she let
herself relax, but she still couldn't shake the worry she felt
for the man in her arms.

***************************
When will you find
What's on the tip of your mind?
Why are you blind
To all you ever were, never were,
Really are, nearly are...
***************************

     "Torres to Kim."
     Harry looked up from his ops panel and tapped his commbadge. 
"Kim here."
     "Have you got a minute to come down to engineering and go
over the dorsal emitter readings?  I think we need to coordinate
for the new control programs."
     The ensign glanced toward the captain, who nodded her
consent.
     "I'll be right down," he replied, trying to keep the
confusion from showing on his face, and headed for the turbolift.
     B'Elanna was watching for him as he walked into engineering
and she motioned him to follow her to her office.  Once inside,
out of earshot of the rest of the engineering crew, he faced her
with a frown.  "What's this all about, B'Elanna?  We went over
the emitter control program yesterday."
     "I needed a good excuse to talk to you," she told him. 
"It's about Tom."
     Harry's frown deepened.  "I thought everything was fine with
you and Tom.  Don't tell me you got into a fight or something."
     She shook her head.  "No.  He had a nightmare last night and
he admitted to me he has them fairly often."
     Harry sighed.  "Did he tell you what it was about?"
     "It was a dream from his childhood.  Being lost in the
darkness, alone and scared.  He tried to make me believe it was
no big deal, but it was, Harry.  And he admitted he has
nightmares about Caldik Prime and prison."
     "I can't say I'm really surprised, except that I thought
things were a lot better now."
     "I'm worried, Harry.  I can't forget what he went through
just a few weeks ago when he thought we'd been lying to him about
how much we care about him."
     "But he knows he was wrong, that it was just an awful
misunderstanding."
     "I know, but I think this dream proves there's still a lot
of insecurity just hiding under the surface.  I think he's still
pretty fragile and I'm just so afraid something could happen and
he could have another breakdown.  If he's still having such
terrifying nightmares, he's still got a lot of demons he hasn't
dealt with yet."
     "It takes time, B'Elanna.  We both know Tom's life has been
pretty miserable for a long time.  He can't just get over it
overnight."
     "I know that.  I just think he's trying to hold too much
inside.  We have to find a way to get him to feel he can really
open up to us."
     "Maybe we're too close."
     She looked at him in surprise.  "What do you mean?"
     "It's kind of a vicious cycle.  Tom needs to talk about the
dark parts of his life and we're the only ones he feels
comfortable talking to, but he's still insecure enough to worry
that talking to us about them will drive us away."
     "That's ridiculous!"
     "You know that and I know that, but we're talking about Tom
here.  He's spent most of his life hiding his true self.  Only
recently has he felt able to let down the walls.  And he's just
recovering from what could have been the consequences of allowing
himself to be so vulnerable."
     "So what do we do?  We can't force him to talk to us."
     "I think all we can do right now is make extra sure he knows
we're here when he needs us.  Maybe do something special for
him."
     "Like what?" she asked.
     "I'm not sure.  Let me think about it.  Right now, I'd
better get back to the bridge before he gets suspicious."
     "I guess you're right," she replied unhappily.  "I'm just
not very good at being patient."
     Harry smiled.  "You've gotten a lot better at it lately."
     "Maybe so, but sometimes I just want to shake him until his
teeth rattle!  He can be so stupid sometimes!"
     "But you love him anyway."
     "Yeah," she sighed, "I do.  And I can't stand to see him
hurting."
     "I know," Harry replied.  "He's been hurt enough."
     He put his hand on her arm and gave it a squeeze.  "Hang in
there, Maquis.  We're going to see him through this."
     She forced a smile as he nodded before leaving to return to
the bridge.
     "I just wish he could believe...." she shook her head and
tried to turn her mind back to her work.  Somehow, the problems
of engineering were no longer the distraction from her own fears
they had once been.

***************************
Little boy false
In search of little boy true.
Will you be ever done travelling
Always unraveling you, you?
***************************

     Tom turned from his console at the sound of the turbolift
doors to see Harry heading back to his station.  He didn't miss
the worried look the younger man cast in his direction before
quickly looking away.  So, he had been right.  They had been
talking about him.  He knew the emitter conference had been just
an excuse for B'Elanna to tell Harry about his nightmare.  He
couldn't find it in his heart to be angry, however.  He didn't
have any lingering doubts about how much his best friend and the
woman he loved truly cared about him, only about how much he
deserved it.  There was still so much about his past that he
couldn't reconcile with the person he wanted to believe himself
to be.
     When his shift was over, he made some excuses to Harry.  He
knew B'Elanna would be tied up in engineering for a couple more
hours.  That gave him time to do something he dreaded, but knew
he had to do.
     Kes was alone when he walked into sickbay.  She greeted him
with a smile that almost concealed the concern he still saw in
her eyes.  "Hello, Tom."
     "Hi, Kes," he replied, summoning up a bright smile in
response.  "I just dropped by to chat with Doc."
     "Computer," she called, "activate emergency medical
holographic program."  The familiar form of Voyager's chief
medical officer materialized before them.
     "Please state... ah!  Mr. Paris.  What can I do for you?"
     Tom laughed.  "No inquiry on the nature of the medical
emergency?"
     "The standard greeting seems to have become rather
irrelevant considering the number of frivolous reasons for which
I'm summoned.  I've taken the liberty of adjusting my programming
to allow for that fact.  Of course, when the person requesting my
presence is you, Lieutenant, considering your proclivity for
injuring yourself, I should probably restore the original query." 
He ran his eyes up and down Tom as he stood before him.  "You
appear to be all in one piece this time."
     "I'm fine," Tom assured him.  "I had a little time to kill
so I thought I'd see if you wanted to talk about that holoprogram
we were discussing the other day."  Tom looked at the doctor
meaningfully.
     The doctor's eyes narrowed for a moment, then he gave a
quick glance toward Kes before smiling back at the pilot.
     "Splendid!"  He motioned for Tom to proceed him into his
office.  "Kes, I'm sure you can handle things here.  It seems to
be a quiet day for a change."
     "Of course, Doctor," she replied, shooting a glance at Tom
as she moved toward the other side of sickbay.
     "I don't think she's any more fooled than you are," Tom said
as he sat down in the chair across the desk from the doctor.
     "Kes is very sensitive by nature and she cares a great deal
about her patients.  But she is also very discreet.  Those
qualities make her an excellent medical assistant."
     "Yes, and a good friend."
     The doctor considered his most frequent patient for a moment
before speaking again.  "Since we haven't discussed a holoprogram
recently, I'm assuming you have something you wish to talk to me
about privately."
     Tom nodded, but said nothing.
     "Mr. Paris, I'm not a mind reader.  I'm gratified you feel
you can come to me not only as your doctor but as your friend,
but you'll have to tell me what the problem is."
     "The problem is me," Tom replied.
     The doctor frowned.  "I thought we'd dealt with that a few
weeks ago."
     "Not really."
     "You aren't still harboring doubts about your friends'
affections for you."
     Tom shook his head.  "No, Doc, I know that was all just a
misunderstanding.  I don't need any more proof that there are
people on this ship that really care about me.  I'm just not sure
I'm really the man everyone thinks I am.  I've done a lot of
things I'm not very proud of, and even though everyone believes
that's in the past and can see beyond it, I don't seem to be able
to."
     "Go on," the doctor prompted, and Tom told him about the
dream he had the night before.
     "Sometimes I still feel lost and I don't think I can be
comfortable with who I am now until I sort out who I was."
     "Have you ever really talked about those things with
anyone?"
     Tom looked up.  "You."
     The doctor nodded.  "Yes, but our main focus was the
conversation you overheard and misinterpreted between Mr. Kim and
Ms. Torres.  That has, I believe, been resolved satisfactorily. 
Perhaps the events of your past that still haunt your dreams are
the problem now.  Maybe you should tell me about them."
     "You know about them, Doc," Tom protested.  "You know about
my father's expectations and how I failed to live up to them. 
And about the accident and prison and all that.  I'd think by now
you'd be bored hearing about it.  It's old news."
     "I know the facts.  Only you know how you felt."
     The silence stretched until Tom finally responded, "I'm not
sure I do."
     "Then tell me."  Tom suddenly looked almost frightened. 
"Tom," the doctor's voice took on a gentler tone, "you have
nothing to fear from talking to me.  I probably don't have the
answers, but I think you do.  You just need to get your thoughts
and feelings out in the open."
     "What do you want me to say?  All that classical Freudian
stuff?  That my father's unreasonable expectations drove me to do
reckless things.  That that's what caused me to kill three
people?"  He shook his head.  "I can't do that.  I can't blame
him for how I reacted.  Maybe if he'd been different, I'd have
been different.  But it was still *me*... *my* choices... that
finally brought me to prison."
     "What choices?"
     Tom sighed.  "I chose to rebel against everything my father
ever expected of me.  I still wanted to prove myself to him, but
on my terms.  I chose to be reckless and I made a mistake that
cost the lives of my friends!"
     "Because you chose to turn away from your father's choices?"
     "Yes!" he cried, before consciously making an effort to
reign in his emotions.  "He wasn't really a bad father.  It was
just the only way he knew how to be.  I think... I think he felt
the same pressure in his own life that he put on me, to carry on
the great Paris tradition.  He wasn't all that easy with my
sisters either, but with me, it was... different.  I was his son. 
I was the one who would carry the name and pass it on to the next
generation.  If I failed, he failed all those Parises before him. 
He couldn't accept that any more than I could accept that I was
at fault in the shuttle crash."
     "But in the end, you did accept it.  Why?"
     Tom leaned back in the chair, his eyes turned toward the
ceiling, and clutched his hands together tightly in his lap. 
"All I could think about when I woke up in the hospital was that
I caused the crash.  I made a mistake.  And I could see that look
on Dad's face again.  The look he had when I was four years old. 
That same look he always had when I was an embarrassment to him. 
I just couldn't face that look again.  So, I did the only thing I
could think to do.  I lied."
     "And how did your father react?"
     Tom chuckled, but without humor.  "He told me I should have
been able to see Hamilton's mistake and correct it.  Is that
ironic or what?  It wasn't Hamilton's mistake, it was mine.  But
even if it hadn't been, in my father's eyes, I was still a
failure.  But there was something else I saw in his face when he
came to the hospital.  He was relieved.  I was never sure if it
was because I had survived the crash or because I wasn't
responsible for it.  I wanted to believe he really cared that I
was alive.  Deep down, I have to believe he did.  I think he
really loved me, Doc.  It's just that the only way he knew to
show it was to be sure I lived up to what he thought I should be. 
He was just as unforgiving of himself in a lot of ways.  My
failures were his failures."
     "Why did you decide to tell the truth?"
     He bit his lip before answering.  "I've always said it was
because I couldn't live with the lie.  I couldn't blame an
innocent man for my mistake.  That's all true, but it isn't the
only reason.  But I think maybe I had reach a point where I
needed Dad to know the truth.  I wanted him to force him to
accept that his son wasn't perfect.  And maybe I hoped he would
finally accept me for who I was and not for who he wanted me to
be."
     "Did he?"
     Tom replied without anger, only sadness, "No.  He couldn't."
     "So, in effect, his failure as a parent became your
failure."
     Tom looked at the doctor in surprise.  "No, I don't...."  He
jumped to his feet and walked away from the desk.  "*I* caused
the accident.  *I* lied to cover it up.  That was *me*."
     "But *you* were Owen Paris' son.  All your life, you
accepted yourself as a reflection of what your father saw.  And
when you finally rebelled against that image, the results were
disastrous.  You really didn't know who you were apart from that
image, did you?"
     Tom turned to face him.  "No, I guess I didn't."
     "And when your father couldn't accept this last failure...."
     "I was nobody."  The words were spoken so softly the doctor
almost didn't hear them.
     "You've spent most of your life defining yourself as others
saw you, showing them what they expected to see, starting with
your father.  Now, you've begun to question that, to try and see
yourself for who you really are and that's a step in the right
direction.  Maybe before you can move on, you have to confront
what those people were seeing in you and begin to understand
why."
     Tom looked at him with an expression of aching need.  "What
do you see, Doc?"
     "I see a man who constantly puts himself in danger to
protect his friends, who cares more about the lives of others
than about his own.  I see someone who wants to find his place in
life, but isn't quite sure how.  I think you're too hard on
yourself for the mistakes you've made, but considering your
background, that's hardly surprising.  I see my friend, Tom
Paris."
     "I wish I could see him."
     "Maybe...." the doctor steepled his fingers in front of his
face.
     "What?" Tom asked.
     "Maybe you should ask some of the other people on this ship,
some of those people who seem to see you better than you see
yourself what it is they see.  It might help you sort out what
you really feel."
     Tom frowned.  "I thought we'd decided other people's
opinions weren't as important as my own."
     "I don't think you've really accepted that.  Maybe when you
listen and begin to question, you'll start to see past them. 
You're really very good at understanding other people.  You just
need to apply those skills to yourself."
     Tom shook his head.  "Where would I begin?"
     "Ideally, with your father, but that isn't possible. 
However, I think you've made a start at understanding the reasons
behind his perception of you.  What came next?  Who saw Tom Paris
after you became... nobody?"

***************************
Running away
Could lead you further astray.
***************************

     "You really hated me, didn't you?"
     "Yes, I guess I did.  You were a real mess back then.  You
were a drunk who didn't care for anything or anybody but himself. 
And you weren't one of us.  You had had everything anyone could
ever want, a model family, a brilliant career in Starfleet,
everything *I* had ever wanted, and you threw it away.  I thought
you were one of the lowest of lifeforms... a traitor."
     "But *you* left Starfleet to join the Maquis," Tom pointed
out.
     Chakotay smiled.  "That was part of the problem.  All I ever
wanted, all I fought for all my life, was to be a Starfleet
officer and when the Cardassians attacked my home colony, I felt
I had no choice but to give all that up.  I was angry and bitter. 
I didn't realize it at the time but I think I hated the
Cardassians almost as much for what they cost me as for what they
did to my friends and my family.  And here comes Thomas Eugene
Paris, throwing away the Starfleet career I would have died to
hold on to, a man who had no stake in my fight, just looking for
some excitement and fun.  Yes, I hated you for what you
represented."
     Tom still wasn't sure this was a good idea.  He had paced
outside the first officer's door for a good ten minutes before
finally summoning up the courage to request entry.  He had been
surprised at Chakotay's willingness to talk about the days when
they first met.  But he knew this was important.  If he was going
to find out who he was, he had to hear from the man who once
would have been happy to kill him.  "But you accepted me into
your cell.  Why?"
     "Because we needed you.  You weren't the first mercenary to
join the Maquis.  I never liked them, but I accepted them because
I could use them.  Just like I used you.  Even as a drunk, you
were a better pilot than most.  So, I used you, and I hated you
because you let me."
     Tom nodded.  "Can't blame you," he laughed.  "At the time, I
hated myself.  But if I was going to be a failure, I was going to
be the most spectacular failure I could be!  I guess that's the
only thing I thought I could actually succeed at... failure."
     "But ultimately, you failed," Chakotay replied, a hint of a
smile in his eyes.
     Tom laughed again.  "I had no intention of joining the
Maquis, you know?  I just wanted to get as far away from the life
I'd given up as possible.  Away from my father.  I don't believe
I ever really hated him, but I thought I did at the time.  I
shipped out on the first freighter I could find and ended up on
that outpost where I ran into Arnett.  He knew who I was,
remembered me from the academy.  We had never been friends.  I
don't think either of us ever liked each other.  But I guess he
figured he could use me just like you did.  After a few drinks, I
was ready to go with him anywhere he asked me to and he brought
me to you."  He looked at the first officer.  "You were right, it
was just something to do.  I didn't care.  Not about the Maquis,
not about the Cardassians...."
     "I never saw past the front you put up back then, Tom,"
Chakotay told him.  "I didn't want to.  It was easier just to use
my hate to justify using you."
     "And after I was captured.  You thought I betrayed the
Maquis."
     "Of course, I did."
     "I didn't, you know," Tom met the other man's eyes.
     "I know that now, but at the time, it was easy to blame you. 
Of course, at the time, I had no idea that I had a Cardassian spy
at my right hand."
     Tom's eyes grew large.  "Seska!  That's right, I'd forgotten
she was already with you then.  It probably *was* her.  Somebody
had to let the Federation know where we'd be.  They were sitting
there waiting for us.  There was nothing we could do but
surrender or blow up the ship.  At the time, I thought it would
be better to be alive.  Later, in prison, I had second thoughts
about that."
     "But there were three other people on that ship with you. 
You couldn't kill them."
     Tom shook his head.  "No, I couldn't.  Not again."
     Chakotay watched in silence as Tom's thoughts took him back
to the place and the time that seemed so far away now.
     "You said it was obviously a trap.  Did you ever think I set
you up?" the former Maquis leader asked.
     Tom returned his attention to the man sitting across from
him.  "I thought about it.  I wanted to blame you, but," he shook
his head, "no.  If it had just been me, maybe, but you wouldn't
have sacrificed the other Maquis on the ship with me, just to
satisfy your hatred of me.  I hated you, but I never really
blamed you."
     "Then you were a much better man than I was."
     Tom looked at him as if he were crazy.  "How can you say
that?"
     "Because you took the time to consider what kind of a person
I really was.  I never gave you the benefit of doubt for
anything."
     "You were kind of busy with a rebellion.  I had a lot of
time to think in prison, Chakotay.  Cut yourself some slack here,
okay?"
     Chakotay smiled.  "You never stop surprising me, Paris.  And
I don't think you ever will."
                               ***
     "I must say, I am surprised at your question.  Quite
frankly, I have never considered the matter.  Once the crisis had
passed, it no longer seemed important."
     "Well, could you consider it now, Tuvok?" Tom asked.  "It's
important to me."
     "Yes, I can see that."  The Vulcan regarded the younger
officer for a few moments.  "Mr. Paris, a Vulcan mind meld is a
very private thing.  It is not something to be discussed openly."
     "I understand that, and I appreciate your discretion.  But
I'm the one you melded with and I need to know what you saw."
     "I fail to see what it is you wish to discover."
     "Who I am," the pilot said, desperation shading his tone.
     "But I would think that is evident."
     "Tuvok, stop being so damned Vulcan!"  The security chief
raised his eyebrow in response and Tom sighed.  "I'm sorry.  I...
I'm not even sure what it is I'm asking.  But you were inside my
head, Tuvok."  He laughed.  "You're the only one besides me who's
ever been there.  I just want to know what you felt or saw or
whatever it is you call it."
     "My - impression of your mental state?"
     Tom rubbed his hands over his face in frustration then hung
his head.  "I don't know."
     "You must first understand that the purpose of the meld was
limited to my sharing the memory cycle which had been implanted
in your mind in order to find evidence of your innocence in
connection with the murder of Tolan Ren.  That is all."
     "So you don't have any opinion as to what kind of a person I
am?"
     "That is a different matter entirely.  As an officer and a
member of this crew, I find you to be highly competent.  I have
never had reason to question your skills as a pilot or your
loyalty to the captain and this crew."
     Tom smiled.  "Thanks.  I'm glad to hear you feel that way. 
I guess I'm just asking for too much."  He nodded to the Vulcan
as he stood to leave his quarters.
     "Mr. Paris?"
     Tom paused in the doorway and turned back toward Tuvok.
     "The search for one's self is not an alien concept to a
Vulcan.  It is a life-long quest and an admirable one.  I wish
you success.  And if it is important to you, then I would like
you to know that I have never found any reason to distrust you,
either professionally or personally."
     Tom looked at the man standing stiffly before him.  "Thank
you, Tuvok," he replied, then smiled as he added, "I like you,
too."

***************************
And as for fishing in streams
For pieces of dreams...
***************************

     "What did I think about you the first time I saw you?  I
didn't like you very much and I didn't like having to come to you
for help, but I needed you."
     "Not as much as I needed you," Tom replied as he sat next to
the captain in her ready room.
     "You were so haughty and contemptuous of everything I said."
     "I had to be.  I couldn't let you know how desperate I was
to get out of there."
     Janeway shook her head.  "Your mask was firmly in place,
that's for sure.  There were a couple of times I wanted to slap
that arrogant smile from your face!"
     "The last thing you wanted was to bring me aboard your
ship."
     "That's true.  A part of me wanted to just walk away and let
you rot and I can't tell you how much I regret that now."
     Tom shook his head.  "You had no way of knowing any
different.  It wasn't your fault."
     "There was one moment, though...." Janeway said, casting her
mind back.
     "When?"
     "When I made it clear you'd be nothing but an observer; you
wouldn't be given the chance to pilot the ship."
     "I slipped then, huh?" he smiled.
     "Yes, you did."
     "It was the only part of me that hadn't been taken away.  I
knew I was a damned good pilot, even after Caldik Prime.  I knew
what my mistake had been and I was never going to make it again. 
Flying was the one thing that didn't come from my father.  It was
*my* dream.  It was the only piece of a dream I had left."
     "And I stomped on it," Janeway's voice was full of regret. 
"I could see the hurt in your eyes, behind all that defiance.  It
was that look that gave me a little respect for you."
     "Even then?"
     "Even then."
     "You know, all the time I was in prison, I never really
thought about getting out.  I hated it there, for good reason,
but I could never see past the end of the sentence.  What did I
have to look forward to?  What would I do with the rest of my
life?  I stopped thinking about the rest of my life because it
didn't seem to exist.  The truth is, I didn't really care if I
lived or died."
     Janeway reached out and took his hand.  "You... never
considered...."
     "Suicide?" he asked.  "Not really.  There's a difference
between not caring what happens to you and actually wanting to
die.  But I think if I hadn't got out of there when I did, I
might have thought about it.  But then there you were, standing
over me, invoking my father's name and telling me you had some
use for me.  Suddenly, I would have done anything to get out of
there, anything but let you know how much I wanted to go with
you.  I had lived without hope for so long, I didn't think I
could hope anymore.  I think I was afraid to hope, but I did. 
When you told me about Voyager, then told me flatly I would not
be allowed to fly her, I got angry.  I wanted to tell you to go
to hell!"  He chuckled.  "Glad I didn't."
     "It seems we're both lucky we managed a little self-
restraint."  Janeway again squeezed the hand she was still
holding.
     "All I knew was I wanted to go with you.  I didn't think
past getting out of prison.  I didn't know how hard it would be
to put on this uniform again and walk onto a starship and know I
didn't really belong."
     "But you did belong here.  You started to belong here from
that very moment you stepped on board.  The young man on the
bridge that first day, was very different from the one I had met
in Aukland.  You had a look about you, a hunger.  And I vividly
remember the very moment when I realized what it was I had seen
in your eyes in New Zealand."
     Tom shook his head in puzzlement.  "What?  When?"
     "When we realized Harry Kim wasn't on board, after your
confrontation with Chakotay, when you asked to come with us
because you wanted to help find Harry.  I saw it then very
clearly.  There was someone behind that mask who wanted
desperately to belong, to find something to care about again.  At
that moment, I knew there was a Tom Paris somewhere inside that I
wanted to find and get to know."
     "You gave me the chance."
     "But you found your own way."
                               ***
     "Sometime I think I'd never have found my way through those
first weeks on board Voyager if it weren't for you."
     "Yes, you would have."
     Harry Kim shook his head.  "I'm not so sure.  Even before we
came on board, you saved me from losing my savings to that
Ferengi barman."
     "Would have served you right!" Tom replied with a laugh. 
"You were so green."
     Harry blushed with embarrassment.  "Why did you come to my
rescue anyway?"
     "I don't know.  Maybe it was just some kind of latent
protective instinct.  Maybe I just don't like Ferengi."
     "Maybe you're just the kind of guy who can't help helping
people."
     "Careful, Harry," Tom cautioned.  "Don't give me too much
credit."
     "I remember thinking I'd never be as cool as you were.  You
just seemed to take everything in stride."
     "Good acting," Tom replied.  "But I have to admit, I enjoyed
the hero worship.  Too bad it couldn't have lasted longer."
     Harry shook his head.  "Heros are one thing, friends are
another.  I'd rather have you as a friend.  But there are still
things about you I admire and even envy."
     Tom shook his head.  "I can't imagine what."
     "You just don't think of yourself as a nice guy.  You are,
you know."
     "This from Mr. Nice himself!"  Tom sobered.  "When I first
met you and I realized you were starting to look up to me, little
warning bells went off in my head, but I didn't listen.  It felt
so good to have someone think I was someone worth emulating.  I
knew it couldn't last, and I didn't think about how much it would
hurt when you found out the truth.  Then, when I saw you in the
messhall talking to the doctor and Commander Cavit, I knew what
they were telling you and I knew you'd never look at me that way
again.  I tried to shake it off, like it didn't mean anything."
     "But it did," Harry knew.  "I could see it, even when you
were warning me to stay away from you.  And I wasn't ready to
just accept what they told me and write you off."
     "You're the first real friend I've ever had, Harry.  If it
hadn't been for you, I...."
     "If it hadn't been me, it would have been someone else.  It
was only a matter of time before someone got through the cracks
in those walls of yours, at least a little bit.  You're a much
better guy than you've ever given yourself credit for, Tom."
     "And I think you give me too much credit."
     Harry just shook his head.  "You just don't see it, do you? 
It isn't so hard to be like and care about someone who is always
there for you, who has never let you down, someone who has risked
his own life to save yours."
     "That's why it's so easy for me to be *your* friend, Harry. 
What's your excuse?" Tom responded with a quirky grin.  "And as
for never letting you down... I can think of a few times."
     "I can't," Harry replied.  "When we were in that Akritarian
prison...."
     "Don't start, Harry.  You know it was the clamp that made
you... almost...."
     "Kill you?"  Harry nodded.  "Yes, but you would have never
been hurt if you hadn't been trying to protect me."
     "Protect you?"  Tom shook his head.  "Was I protecting you
when I begged you not to leave me there?  I could have been
condemning you to spend your life in that hell hole.  And what
good would it have done me?  I would have been dead soon anyway."
     "No!" Harry replied with such vehemence Tom actually jumped. 
"If you can accept that it was the influence of the clamp that
caused me to go berserk and almost bash your head in, why can't
you realize it was the same thing that caused you to ask me not
to leave you alone?  You had already told me to leave you behind
if I had the chance, not that I would have."
     "I know that, Harry."
     "Then know this, too.  When you asked me not to leave you,
you were putting your life in my hands.  You trusted me to take
care of you when you could no longer take care of me.  You
trusted me with your life.  I'm your friend and you're mine.  I
don't consider that weakness.  I think you're about the strongest
man I know.  I just wish you could see it for yourself."

***************************
Those pieces will never fit.
What is the sense of it?
***************************

     "You acted pretty cocky and sure of yourself back then."
     "I had to, or at least I thought I had to.  It's something I
learned in prison, maybe earlier... at the academy.  'Don't let
anyone know what your really feeling, don't let them know what's
important to you or they'll destroy it.'  So, I acted like...."
     "A pig," B'Elanna supplied with a smile as she plopped down
on the sofa next to him.
     Tom chuckled.  "I chased every woman on the ship, but very
little ever came of it.  None of it was real.  I was just
maintaining my reputation.  I had to give everyone an obvious
excuse to dislike me.  For some reason, that was easier to accept
than having them discover the real me and hate me for what I
really am."
     "But it didn't work, did it?" she asked.  "The real Tom
Paris started slipping through.  I remember the first time I saw
him, when we were captured by the Vidiians."
     Tom nodded.  "When you talked to me about your childhood,
about your father... in a way, it was like looking in a mirror. 
You do the same thing I do, you know that, don't you, Torres? 
You hide behind your own walls.  When you were split into two
parts, I caught a glimpse behind your walls, too, and it wasn't
just the human half of you or the Klingon half of you I saw, it
was the part you hide from other people, the vulnerable side. 
That was something I could understand."
     "In me, but not in yourself."
     "It's hard to see yourself without a mirror."
     "That was the first time I knew there was something more to
you than what you wanted us all to believe."
     Tom put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against
him.  "That was the first moment I knew I wanted you to... maybe
stop detesting me?"
     B'Elanna turned her face against his chest and chuckled. 
Then, after a moment, she pulled away enough to see his
expression.  "Once I'd seen a little bit of what you were hiding,
I knew I wanted to see more."
     "Same here.  Once we stopped sniping at each other so much,
we found we could even work together.  During the Warp 10
experiments, I think that's when we actually became friends.  And
I remember you were there with me when I got sick.  I remember
your hand on my forehead."
     "You do?" she asked with a smile.  "Weak moment on my part."
     "But we *were* friends.  That's what mattered most."
     "That's why I was so confused when you started acting like a
jerk again.  I didn't know you and Tuvok and the captain were
working on this plan to flush out the Kazon spy."
     He held her a little tighter.  "You were one of the few
people on this ship that didn't just accept the act at face
value.  Just Tom Paris reverting to form.  You and Harry and Kes
and Neelix."
     "That's because we'd already begun to see what you were like
underneath all that bravado.  I wasn't ready to accept that I was
wrong about you."
     "I knew for a long time that I wanted you for a friend. 
Then, somewhere along the line, I realized I wanted more than
just friendship, but you weren't easy to reach.  You made it
obvious you didn't want to be romantically involved with me, so I
didn't push it.  Then, on Sikara IV, when you admitted that you
were attracted to me, even though you were under the influence of
that Vulcan mating urge, I wanted to believe at least part of it
was the truth.  I wanted to believe it so much and I wanted to
hear you say it again, when I knew for sure it was you talking
and not the fever."
     "Until you overheard Harry and I talking and thought we had
been lying to you all along, just making believe we were your
friends."
     "Suddenly it was all gone.  The last three years disappeared
and it was like I was back in prison again, only this time, there
would be no reprieve.  I don't think I've ever felt so alone in
my life."
     "But your friends convinced you how wrong you were," she
reminded him.  "You aren't that solitary man anymore."
     "I'm not the Tom Paris I was before Caldik Prime either.  I
think he died in that shuttle crash, and for a long time, I was
just drifting, without any kind of identity of my own.  I didn't
even realize I had been building a new Tom Paris here on Voyager
until I thought I'd lost it all."
     "But you didn't lose anything.  We're still here and so are
you.  And I believe he's not so much a new Tom Paris as the
*real* Tom Paris, finally finding his way."
     "Funny to think he could have been here all the time.  You
know, Doc was right.  I think it has helped me when I can see not
only how other people see me, but why.  Maybe, I'm finally
beginning to get to know this person inside me."
     "When you do, I think you'll like him.  I do."
     He gathered her into his arms and pulled her tightly against
him, his lips finding hers, drinking in the feel of her, the
smell of her.  Of all the people on board the ship, B'Elanna knew
him better than anyone... anyone in his life, and she found
something to love about him.  Maybe it shouldn't matter what
other people thought, but it did when the person was someone so
special.
     And maybe, just maybe, if Chakotay and Captain Janeway and
Tuvok and Harry had all been able to find something good in him,
even when he was at his worst, maybe it really had been there all
along.
     B'Elanna's hands began to explore his body, and suddenly,
his mind stopped considering all the things he'd begun to learn
about himself.  There would be time enough for that later.  Right
now, he had his arms full of the woman who loved him and that was
all he wanted to concentrate on.

***************************
Little boy blue
Don't let your little sheep roam.
***************************

     Nine people sat gathered around a single large, circular
table perched on a balcony overlooking a holographic recreation
of the Pacific Ocean.  The breeze was cool and the sound of the
surf was muted by the soft strains of classical music.  Harry had
chosen the musical selections, Neelix had provided the fare and
B'Elanna had chosen the holographic program for this very
important dinner.  Somehow, the setting seemed entirely
appropriate: the wild and reckless ocean waves beating themselves
against the rocks as they reached ever further in toward the
shore.  It seems the perfect metaphor of life.
     Tom Paris' eyes took in the group around him.  Almost
directly opposite him, sat Captain Janeway.  As he did on the
bridge, Chakotay sat to her left, and on her right hand, as he
always seemed to be, sat Tuvok.  Seated to the right of the
Vulcan, Kes was speaking softly to Neelix as he continued to fuss
over the food on the table before them.  Harry Kim sat next to
the Talaxian, on Tom's left.  Next to Chakotay, the doctor sipped
at his glass of holographic wine, while next to him, sitting at
Tom's right, B'Elanna Torres, seemingly lost in thought, ran her
fingers up and down the stem of her glass which contained the
real thing.  Tom looked back around the table and the captain
caught his eye as she leaned forward, her hands clasped together
on the table before her.
     "Most of us take a lot of things for granted," Janeway spoke
softly, "but, we've all learned how capricious fate can be.  It's
important that, occasionally, we take the time to put into words
those things we feel are simply understood.  Harry and B'Elanna
suggested this dinner and I, for one, think it's a wonderful
idea.  It's a time to be informal, to forget rank," she smiled,
raising an eyebrow, "to a point."  Everyone chuckled, except, of
course, Tuvok.  "The people on board Voyager have become much
more than just a crew on a starship.  Because of our unique
situation, we have had to learn to depend on each other, to trust
each other, in a way that has brought us closer together.  We've
become more like a family.  I think that's especially true for
those of us gathered here.  I couldn't have ask for a better
senior staff, but I also couldn't wish for better friends."  She
lifted her glass, and the others followed suit.  "To good friends
and better times."
     "Here, here!" responded Neelix loudly as the other murmured
their agreement before sipping their wine.
     "Captain?" Paris spoke hesitantly as everyone sat down their
glasses and turned their eyes toward him.
     "Yes, Tom?"
     "I know why Harry and B'Elanna came up with this little
dinner party idea."  He looked down at the wine glass in his hand
for a moment before continuing.  "I know you've been a little...
worried about me lately.  And there's something I'd like to say
to you all."
     "Of course," Janeway replied gently.
     Paris pushed his glass away and grasped his hands in front
of him, gathering his thoughts for a moment as everyone waited
for him to speak.
     "It's all right, Tom," Kes whispered, offering him a
supportive smile, and as he glanced around the table, the doctor
caught his eye and nodded encouragingly.
     He took a deep breath before he began.  "When I was a little
boy, about four or five, I got lost in this museum.  It was dark
and everywhere I looked, I saw monsters coming to get me.  I
think for a very long time I've been lost, trying to hide from
all the monsters in the darkness.  But when I came aboard
Voyager, Captain Janeway turned on a light for me and in the past
three years, almost four, one by one, other lights came on and
more and more of the darkness was driven away."  He looked around
the table.  "Each of you were responsible for turning on a light
and I'll always be grateful, more grateful than I can ever tell
you.  I can see things a lot clearer now.  There are still
shadows in the corners.  I guess there always will be.  But they
aren't as scary as they used to be because... I'm not alone
anymore.  And I've found things to believe in again.  Maybe now I
can actually have dreams and not nightmares."  He looked down at
his hands and laughed.  "I don't mean to get all mushy, but... I
need to say this to all of you."  He looked up again, taking in
each face as he spoke.  "Thank you.  Thank you for your trust and
your friendship.  Thank you for giving me a chance, for believing
in me when even I didn't.  For helping me find myself again...
maybe for the first time."
     B'Elanna reached out and took his hand in hers, tears
shining from her eyes as they met his.  "You can be a lot of
work, hotshot, but you're worth it."
     They all chuckled, except Tuvok, who simply nodded once.
     Tom pulled B'Elanna's hand to his lips and kissed it gently. 
"When I look at you," he whispered, "I realize this Tom Paris is
a lucky guy.  He didn't have to wait 75 years to find his way
home."

***************************
It's time.  Come blow your horn,
Meet the morn,
Look and see,
Can you be far from home?
***************************

Song lyrics from "Little Boy Lost" from the film *Fitzwilly*
Lyrics by Alan & Marilyn Bergman