A/N: Written on a whim. The classic "stuck in the lift/elevator" scenario we all know and love. :)
Stuck
The shift in external forces caused the lift to shudder, a quick warning of what was to come.
"Shit."
"Mr. Paris!"
"Sorry, ma'am. It's just...I hate these stoppages. I hate being trapped in here."
The turbolift had just jarred to a total halt, imprisoning its two lone occupants, Paris and Janeway.
She didn't like the confined space one bit, but she could think of worse people to be stuck with. Neelix being one of them. Or the Doctor.
Janeway shuddered briefly at the thought, then turned her attention back to the situation at hand, deciding to face it with humor and optimism.
"I don't like the stoppages any more than you do, but the lift power should be restored shortly. There's no need for profanity."
Tom nodded deferentially to his superior, refraining from pointing out that the lift power would probably not be restored anytime soon. Still, he was very interested in getting out as fast as possible. "Isn't there any way we can speed the process up, Captain?"
"Why? Eager to return to work, are we?" The jesting in the question caused him to smile slightly, despite his irritation.
"I'm never eager, Captain, it's just boring in here and I'm tired of these lift malfunctions. This is the third time I've been stuck since they started."
"Did I hear you say that I'm boring?" She was again undeterred by his grumbling; the twinkle in her eye only accented the playful nature of her banter. Janeway was clearly trying to slide his mind off the negative track it had taken.
"Of course not, ma'am," Tom backtracked, this time giving her a full, charming Paris smile. He gestured grandly with both arms wide. "I would never insult a lady like that."
"That's more like it."
They smiled to themselves for a moment, each becoming aware of the quiet that suddenly seemed massive in such a small space.
Tom leaned back against the wall of the lift, finally deciding to do something productive instead of complaining. He tapped his commbadge. "Paris to Bridge."
"Chakotay here, go ahead."
"Any estimate on the time it will take to restore power to this lift, Commander? The captain and I are on it."
"I'm aware of that. Are you okay?" He didn't sound too overjoyed to hear the voice of Tom Paris. In fact, Chakotay was somewhat annoyed at what he perceived as the younger man's impudence in contacting him, instead of properly submitting to the captain's authority.
Mainly, he'd just rather talk to the captain.
"We're just peachy, sir." The mockery was abundantly audible. No love lost there.
"Keep communication professional, Lieutenant. You've got a while. Chakotay out."
Tom made a face. Tightass. You'd think he'd be a little more sympathetic.
Glancing over at the captain, he amended that thought: Then again, I bet he wishes he were in my place.
He snickered to himself at that.
"Something funny, Mr. Paris?" Captain Janeway's piercing gaze fixed on him. Her tone was not threatening or ominous, but she had a way of making people nervous with her perceptive stare. She reminded him of an eagle. Sharp eyes don't miss very much.
"No, Captain. What do you say we have a seat and settle in?" He lowered himself to the floor, prepared to wait out the delay. His uniform protested slightly as he did so, like his ever-aging body. He made a mental note to stretch his muscles more often...just as another groan came from his back.
This creaky-bones stuff was crazy. He wasn't that old, was he?
"Don't mind if I do," the Captain replied, dropping likewise across from him, taking the other side of the lift. She was even more stiff than he was, a few joints cracking as she sat. Once in a comfortable position, she was left staring aimlessly at her hands.
When it became apparent that he was not going to ask the obvious, she did.
"Any ideas on what we should do to pass the time, Tom?"
There was a moment of concentration on his end. "Uh...talk? Sleep? Play pattycakes?" Joking, as usual. His method of coping with just about anything.
She gave him a puzzled look at the last suggestion, but wasn't about to ask.
"Never mind," he muttered. "What do you want to do?"
"Sleep sounds wonderful," she murmured, already laying her head back against the lift's wall. After so many reports and emergencies and malfunctions and attacks and just plain old drama, she felt she quite deserved this chance at rest.
"I can't blame you for that choice," Tom admitted, validating her thoughts. "I could always use a little sleep."
She laughed a little at him as she heard him adopt her position and put his head back to rest against the other wall. They faced each other, mirroring one another, old friends taking a breather together.
He began to think about the things that normally brought him to sleep...B'Elanna, Miral, his new holodeck ideas, plans with Harry, food, betting pools...
Janeway needed no such impetus to drift into sleep. She was gone in under a minute, posture falling as her body relaxed into its rare opportunity for a vacation.
It was another 15 minutes, maybe more, before Tom opened his eyes again, unable to fall asleep. He was about to ask Janeway a question before he stopped to scrutinize her. Is she asleep? It looked like it. He wasn't too surprised. She was the Captain, after all. High pressure job. He knew how stressed she could get and how much she cared about practically everything that ever happened on the ship, or to its crew. That kind of stuff took its toll.
He'd just have to find a way to sleep too, or else sit in the silence twiddling his thumbs.
Naturally, he chose the latter option.
Twiddling his thumbs could be fun...he just had to use some imagination, right? And he had no shortage of that.
Maybe he could count the lines on the bulkhead of the lift, or try to rewire the controls, or...meditate or something. Tuvok had tried to teach B'Elanna, and she'd attempted to share a few things with him. It hadn't exactly taken. He was profoundly grateful to the stoic Vulcan, though, because her fuse had gotten a bit longer since their sessions. That meant less arguments for them, and less bodily damage to Tom.
Still looking for something to do, he actually began to count the lines in the turbolift. This was terrible. How pathetic we can get without some kind of entertainment. He was bored out of his mind, and it had hardly been a half hour. He started at the top section of the lift across from him, making his way down very slowly and halfheartedly counting, tracing the bulkhead sections. He was eventually so focused that he made specific mental notes about the engineering and design of the interior.
After some time, his eyes dropped down to Janeway's peacefully sleeping form. As always, she looked beautiful. Her head had fallen a bit forward, and he felt strange to suddenly be staring at her. It was always a little awkward to find yourself staring at someone who was sleeping; you inevitably started to wonder about them and study them. This was doubly awkward because it was the captain.
Tom's eyes wandered over his old friend anyways. She was more interesting than counting lines in the lift, that was for sure, and her personal life was ever a mystery to most of the crew, which was perfect for the betting pools. Maybe he could think of a few more ideas...
But as he took in the sight of a serene, untroubled Captain Janeway, a sense of slight awe slowly replaced his thoughts of betting pools. It suddenly hit him how uncommon it was to observe the Captain in such a simple, human activity. Just sitting there, sleeping. This legendary woman just relaxing in front of him, like anyone else. He narrowed his eyes.
The hands that frequently placed themselves gently on his shoulder while at the helm rested gently on the floor. Her jaw, so often set at a rebellious angle against the odds, was now a bit slack. The auburn hair that he'd always thought perfectly matched her fiery personality now lay calmly across her cheeks.
For a few moments, Tom contemplated the woman before him, making these links between the extraordinary and the ordinary. It wasn't long before he felt the intense gratitude he had always felt towards her, simply for the fact that she was in his life, keeping an unwarranted but apparently infinite faith in him. That was something he would probably never understand, but it didn't change the reality that her faith actively existed as a driving force in his life. This was why he held such respect for her. His mind meandered, remembering back to their meeting in New Zealand, and her life-altering offer of a second chance. He wondered yet again how he could ever possibly repay that debt. For the moment, his eyes roamed gratefully over her face. It wasn't lost on him for a second that hers was the one face that always seemed to smile on and encourage him.
"You're going to make a lady blush, Mr. Paris, looking at her that way," Janeway playfully chided.
Tom started, the fondness in his face dissipating rapidly. He'd had no idea she was awake. When had she awoken? How had she known he was staring at her? He put his brain in reverse, trying frantically to recover. "Sorry, Captain. I didn't mean...wait, how long have you been awake?"
"Long enough to know that you've been intently gazing at me for some time," she replied, a smirk crossing her face as she opened her eyes to look directly at his. She patted the ground beside her. "Come here, Tom."
Still a little embarrassed, he crawled carefully forward to sit beside her, leaving some space between them. She spoke quietly.
"What's on your mind?"
"Oh, nothing really, I was just bored and started counting tiles in the lift here-"
"Tom Paris, don't you dare bullshit me. Let's have the real story."
He had to laugh. He should have known she would catch him. He began again, but despite the humor, found himself hesitant to talk about his personal thoughts. Especially when they concerned another person sharing the same space with him.
"I was just thinking."
Janeway was amused again by his reluctance, grinning widely at him. "You do know that we have quite a bit of time in here, correct, Lieutenant?"
He looked over and couldn't help smiling back at her and her characteristic frankness. He threw his arms up in front of him. "Okay, fine. Yes, I was staring. I admit it. You got me. It was going to come out eventually, I know."
Janeway continued to wait as he paused and looked away before speaking again. "I was just thinking about you."
As soon as he he said it, he knew it had come out wrong, and he looked quickly back up at her. "I mean-"
"And?"
The interjected word urged him on and yet hung in the air, which had suddenly become charged with some inexplicable yet vaguely familiar tension. Tom continued cautiously but honestly.
"I was thinking about how you've saved me. You know, in a lot of ways."
Her gaze softened as she regarded him. She moved closer, so that they were touching shoulders, and patted his knee.
"Tom, you know I have the utmost faith in you. I wouldn't have picked you to serve with this crew if I didn't." Her tone was matter-of-fact and confident, her reply simple. She meant it.
He nodded, his next words muted. "But you didn't have to do any of this for me."
The silence stuck as Janeway acknowledged the truth of that statement. Her eyes were warm and it would not be hard for anyone to see the true joy that radiated from them. He felt so fortunate to serve under her command and amazed by her generosity towards him.
Feelings that Tom had long since buried rose unexpectedly to the surface, and he found himself longing to stare at her...wishing she would reach out and touch him, wishing she would favor him again with her elegant smile. Wishing he could give something back to her. He was shocked by the depth of the emotional flood, and reacted by tensely scooting back to the other side of the lift. This was not what he'd had in mind when they'd gotten stuck together.
Janeway saw it (all of it) and knowingly watched him go. She recognized the look that had crossed his face. Her expression saddened slightly, but she resolved to keep the professional tone in her voice. This was going to be tricky, but it was the opportunity she'd been waiting for. There would never be a better time than this one. She started nonchalantly.
"Something wrong, Lieutenant?"
He couldn't look at her quite yet. She would see right through him. He kept his head down, almost between his bent legs, willing the intense feelings away. But as buried things were wont to do, they clung powerfully to him, finally brought to light again, and would not leave.
"Tom."
She rose and walked carefully over to him, crouching down in front of him. Her arms settled easily on her legs as she observed him.
"I don't want to talk about this," he managed to say, wishing she wouldn't bring herself so close.
"I do."
"There's nothing for me to say," he pleaded. Thoughts of B'Elanna were failing to neutralize his feelings, and he didn't know how else to hide from them. He could tell from Janeway's tone that she knew exactly what was going on and was going to push him to own up. He was terrified.
"There's plenty for both of us to say, and you know it, Mr. Paris." Her eyes would not wander from him, she was intent on having it out. "There is so much that goes unspoken between us that I don't even know where to begin. But I do know that we have to or this will explode on us someday."
He was silent, visibly unhappy at the thought of having this conversation. Tom was angry enough that he'd been figured out, that he'd let his guard down, and that his feelings had burst through the dam he so meticulously tended. He didn't want to confront any of this, and certainly not with her there. That was the whole reason he'd buried the damn feelings in the first place.
"I saw your face, Tom," she persisted, the kindness in her voice surprising him. "I know. I've known a hundred times before this. You have my word that none of our conversation will leave this lift, but I want to clear the air. I need you to talk about your feelings."
He scoffed at the last part. "What feelings? The feelings of my eternal indebtedness to you, or the insane and ridiculous feelings of attraction I have for you? Which one, Captain?" His tone was bitter and he looked up a little defiantly at her as he said it.
She remained unfazed by his prickly outburst, holding his gaze. "Mind telling me why they are ridiculous?"
Already on a roll, he answered her quickly and couldn't help the anguished note that crept into his voice.
"Because you're the captain! Because I'm married and I have a kid! Because you're my superior, because you're how many years older than me, and because you're interested in Chakotay. It's pretty damn simple, isn't it? You wouldn't return my feelings even if it were possible for anything to happen."
"Whoever told you that was lying." She then deliberately lowered her voice and her gaze, a rare indication of Janeway vulnerability. "And Chakotay is not my first pick."
He was bewildered for a moment, not understanding why she was saying these things instead of agreeing with him that his feelings were obviously inappropriate and stupid.
"What are you saying?"
"Really, for someone who is supposed to be a suave ladies' man, you're awfully slow, Mr. Paris."
It began to dawn on him as she let the barest hint of a smirk grace her mouth.
For a few seconds, he couldn't speak. It was like finding out that Voyager's entire journey had merely been a dream. He couldn't immediately process the enormity of what she'd just alluded to. Had he really just heard the captain say what he thought she'd said? Captain Janeway? A woman endowed with a level of romantic austerity that he once doubted existed in any other human being?
"You've got to be kidding me," he finally said. The bitterness was gone from his voice. The certainty of being embarrassed in front of her by revealing his feelings, and the angry need to protect himself, had suddenly disappeared.
"I kid you not." She was smiling now, unable to contain her enjoyment of his stunned expression.
"I can't believe this...you've felt the same way?"
"For a long time." A profound sadness appeared now, and it reached her eyes. "You have little idea, Tom."
"Why didn't you say anything?" He realized a second later how foolish the question was.
"You know exactly why."
"But...you married us. Me and B'Elanna. You walked me down the aisle...you smiled through it, you gave that amazing speech about us without breaking a sweat. You never said anything. Not once. I-I never had any idea..."
"How could I say anything? Were you supposed to put your life on hold until we got back home and something might happen between us? I don't think so, Tom. I accepted my responsibilities and limitations as Captain when I stepped on this ship, and I will keep them."
There was a silence again, and then she chuckled to herself. "I really am too old for you, anyways."
He was incredulous. "How can you find any humor in this situation? This is one of the saddest things I've ever heard you say..."
"Please, that's a bit overdramatic. This is just one more personal cross that I have to bear, and I'll do it gladly." Her typical resolve was apparent. "You are happy," she added simply, lowering herself to sit beside him again.
"But you're not," he pointed out, facing her as she sat and rested against the wall.
She sighed. "Sometimes these obstacles are put in our way for a reason, and we need to learn how to deal with them constructively. It's something I've learned repeatedly throughout my life, Tom... I can't begrudge Fate for this one."
"It seems like a terrible, cruel joke, to marry off someone you love."
"Well, I don't recall saying anything about love, now, did I?" She glanced teasingly at him.
He instinctively rose to the challenge. "Admit it, you love me. How could you not? I'm pretty amazing. You essentially said I was your first pick, I mean, obviously-"
She slapped his arm to shut him up. They grinned at one another for a few seconds before sobering.
Tom then let out a dejected breath. "This is why we would work so well together. We know how to have a good time. It's a damn shame, Captain."
Janeway nodded in agreement. "I will admit that I can't imagine this ship without you at the helm. I really dislike the days when you're not there...I don't get my usual dose of Paris banter."
"I love that too. It makes my day when you fire off those witty replies, Captain."
"Makes things a bit more bearable," she agreed, looking at him appreciatively.
The silence stretched again, until Tom timidly voiced the question that hadn't been completely addressed. He was extremely nervous to ask, despite how well things had gone.
"Do you love me, Captain?"
Although she was a bit taken aback, Janeway thought about it for a moment, considering her reply to a question of such magnitude. It was difficult to say. Did she? Could she, even? In her position?
After some time pondering, she focused on the wall opposite them, keeping her eyes and their sorrow there. "Inasmuch as I can, I suppose I do, yes."
Tom felt his heart breaking for the woman beside him, and breaking for himself as well. What a shitty roll of the dice they'd received.
His immense feeling of angst about the entire situation must have shown, because she leaned in to touch his cheek and flashed her crooked smile.
"Cheer up, Tom. You've still got a long time with me on this ship."
He snorted. "Not that it makes a hell of a difference now..."
Favoring him with a bittersweet look, she lightly turned his face closer to hers, leaning in, with the question unmistakably in her eyes.
Why? clearly lit up in his face, but he let her hand stay there.
"For everything that could have been," she murmured, not breaking eye contact.
It would be an act of almost sacred trust in one another: trust that they were both mature enough to know that this was it, the only time this would ever happen, and trust that this story would never be shared with another soul aboard the ship.
The agreement was sealed silently; they were already on the same wavelength. They always had been. It was something even the bridge crew had come to count on.
Her lips touched his with a surety he should have expected from her, and he was more than happy to return her gentle affection. The kiss gradually deepened of its own accord, naturally, as both officers let fear slide away and relaxed into this groundbreaking moment with each other. Their chemistry was undeniable. Neither was able to repress the powerful feeling that sprang forth or their intuitive ability to read each other. When they finally parted, it was reluctantly so on both sides.
Nothing untoward happened, much to their shared relief. They kept their hands where they should be, and nobody ended up on the ground. No heavy breathing was involved. Neither made the other feel awkward.
Janeway slowly moved away from him, and then over to the other wall, facing him from across the lift once more. Tom watched her slip from his side and resume a proper distance with a twinge of regret.
They sat and simply looked at each other for a while. There was really no need to speak, and neither officer wanted to. Janeway was busy preserving this memory in her mind, etching it with great care, and preparing herself to assume her rightful role again as captain. Tom was busy taking in the beauty of the moment and quieting his mind about B'Elanna and Miral. He could not bring himself to feel too guilty, given the hopeless circumstances between himself and Janeway. Somewhat counterintuitively, he felt centered and renewed by the events on the lift.
It was another 20 minutes before the lift began to move again. He rose first, and then she did, standing beside him as they rocketed towards the bridge.
"I hate to say "I told you so"...but I told you it would be better if we talked all of this out now. There was no need for a hissy fit," Janeway quipped, breaking the silence. He smiled at her as the doors slid open to reveal the waiting officers on the bridge.
"Captain, Lieutenant Paris," Chakotay greeted them. "Glad to have you back."
"And we're glad to be back, Commander," Janeway replied, already making her way to her command chair. Paris followed her dutifully.
"I hope Lieutenant Paris behaved himself," Chakotay continued. Tom was hard-pressed to keep a straight face. He couldn't decide whether to shoot Chakotay a dirty look or laugh in the man's face.
"Of course," Janeway responded. "I would have smacked him if he hadn't," she answered wryly. "You have the helm, Mr. Paris. Let's continue on our way."
"Yes, ma'am."
They resumed without missing a beat.
A/N2: Gah! I love J/P. :)