Title: "Common Fever"
Written by: Voy_Girl, 25-26/12 2002
Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek: Voyager and all the characters, including "Liberty".
However, the temporare character 'Melh' is my own creation.
Code/s: P, C, T, others.
Summary: When in the Maquis, Tom suffers... Set pre-Voyager, as well as before Tom was
condemned to jail.
Author's Note: I wrote this during the shifting between Christmas Day and Boxing Day, and I
had a painkiller in my system while writing, so perhaps I can blame possible mistakes on that.
Not? Well, the truth is anyway that a cold inspired me to the making of this.
~VG, 12-26-2002
***************************************************************
"Common Fever" by Voy_Girl
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Commander?" Tom croaked from his long awaited place at the helm, no matter that the
award meant a service at the Maquis ship, "Liberty".
"Yes, Paris." Chakotay sighed, making sure every last drop of contempt was pressed out of
his center of emotions, and spread out upon his words.
"Can I please go to the doctor?" Tom didn't trust his husky voice to support him much longer,
so he spoke as few words as persuasion allowed.
"What for?" The older man sounded implacable, like he'd already made up his mind.
"I think I have a fever."
"A common cold has never stopped any member of my crew before."
Tom grinned his teeth at Chakotay's words, he couldn't comprehend Chakotay still was so
fixed with Tom's origin as a 'Starfleet brat'.
"Commander, I believe Mr. Paris should go to the sick bay if he so wishes," Tuvok interposed
from at his console.
"Mr. Paris can see the doctor after his shift has ended," Chakotay triumphed, and returned to
the reports he had to skim through.
Tom bit his lower lip as the stars outside seemed to float into each other, forming a mistakable
pattern of other ships. He tried to forget his acing body pleading for treatment.
His sore throat, his smart eyes, every single little throbbing muscle, and the overall sense of
fatigue all had to wait until Tom had suffered through the remaining four hours.
***
With only twenty minutes to go, Tom's mind varied between three different scenarios.
The first was himself asking a wrathful Chakotay for permission to leave immediately.
The second touched whether or not he could rest his pounding head against the cool helm for a
minute without being scolded or slipping away into unconsciousness.
The third simply involved a couple of hundred sheep jumping over giant red and lilac flowers
on an extensive stretch of green meadow.
Tom decided that hallucinations weren't a good sign, and that he should stick with his first
appearing scenario if any.
He was just about to open his mouth, but Chakotay was in advance of him. Probably realising
that the young pilot actually was suffering, he promised Tom to go if he'd just delivered a
PADD to the engineers in their main hide-out on a lower deck.
Tom gratefully accepted, took the offered piece of technology, and hoped that he didn't sway
too much as he stumbled away, bright, painful edges shrieking out from the corners of his
range of vision.
***
Fifteen minutes later, an impatient Chakotay hit the comm button and called the engineering.
B'Elanna Torres, young, but an already etablated engineer, answered his call.
"I expected a quick response to the message I sent!" Chakotay ranted.
"What message?" B'Elanna frowned questioningly.
"The one Tom Paris was supposed to deliver!"
"I'll go see if he's somewhere between you and me," B'Elanna offered resolute before
Chakotay could add anything else.
***
B'Elanna didn't have to go far, only a few meters from the entrance to her station, Tom laid
sprawled out in the hallway.
The important PADD was still safely wrapped by his long, but lifeless fingers. He hadn't let go
of it, B'Elanna realised as she bent down to check if he breathed stable.
While still leaning over him, her wrist accidentally brushed across Tom's exposed forehead.
Shocked, B'Elanna pulled her arm back. His forehead was boiling hot.
***
"He has high fever," the tall man stated. His name was Melh, and he was temporarily serving
as a doctor.
The two people present, Chakotay and B'Elanna Torres, both glanced at the unconscious man
who laid at the bed.
Chakotay experienced mild scruples because of the rising fever, but comforted himself that a
little fever was no big deal after all. A little fever usually wasn't. But not almost four degrees
above the normal.
"How long is he going to stay like this?"
"I think he's floating on the verge to come back now," the Bolian medic informed, as a fully
covering answer. "Sometimes a simple word from someone else can be enough to wake a
patient of this kind up. And of course, he has to get some rest afterwards."
"Of course," Chakotay replied the doctor. In the same breath he hissed to his loyal engineer
that she could say something to Paris.
Then he gave Melh one last nod, and left the otherwise quiet little room.
When Chakotay's unmerciful steps had ebbed away, B'Elanna and the doctor was alone with
the still Tom.
By Melh's way to scrutinize a medical tool, and sometimes glance up at her, B'Elanna
understood that he anticipated for her to speak to Tom or leave. She rolled her eyes and finally
stepped up to the insignificant bed. A bed where she'd been posted herself many times.
She wanted to get over with this.
Tom was pale, and though he, to her, was nothing but asleep, he still looked tired.
Somehow, B'Elanna who suddenly felt gripped by the pitiful sight, leaned over and hissed
"Fight!" at Tom's face.
She only stayed long enough to see a small twitch grip the hand that finally had let go of the
PADD, before she too left.
For the blink of any eye, a small smirk remained as a touch on her lips. B'Elanna headed back
to engineering through the gloomy hallways, convinced that she'd never do something like that
again. Especially not for Tom Paris.
*
End.... frky_vg@kittymail.com is here for your comments... :)
Written by: Voy_Girl, 25-26/12 2002
Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek: Voyager and all the characters, including "Liberty".
However, the temporare character 'Melh' is my own creation.
Code/s: P, C, T, others.
Summary: When in the Maquis, Tom suffers... Set pre-Voyager, as well as before Tom was
condemned to jail.
Author's Note: I wrote this during the shifting between Christmas Day and Boxing Day, and I
had a painkiller in my system while writing, so perhaps I can blame possible mistakes on that.
Not? Well, the truth is anyway that a cold inspired me to the making of this.
~VG, 12-26-2002
***************************************************************
"Common Fever" by Voy_Girl
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Commander?" Tom croaked from his long awaited place at the helm, no matter that the
award meant a service at the Maquis ship, "Liberty".
"Yes, Paris." Chakotay sighed, making sure every last drop of contempt was pressed out of
his center of emotions, and spread out upon his words.
"Can I please go to the doctor?" Tom didn't trust his husky voice to support him much longer,
so he spoke as few words as persuasion allowed.
"What for?" The older man sounded implacable, like he'd already made up his mind.
"I think I have a fever."
"A common cold has never stopped any member of my crew before."
Tom grinned his teeth at Chakotay's words, he couldn't comprehend Chakotay still was so
fixed with Tom's origin as a 'Starfleet brat'.
"Commander, I believe Mr. Paris should go to the sick bay if he so wishes," Tuvok interposed
from at his console.
"Mr. Paris can see the doctor after his shift has ended," Chakotay triumphed, and returned to
the reports he had to skim through.
Tom bit his lower lip as the stars outside seemed to float into each other, forming a mistakable
pattern of other ships. He tried to forget his acing body pleading for treatment.
His sore throat, his smart eyes, every single little throbbing muscle, and the overall sense of
fatigue all had to wait until Tom had suffered through the remaining four hours.
***
With only twenty minutes to go, Tom's mind varied between three different scenarios.
The first was himself asking a wrathful Chakotay for permission to leave immediately.
The second touched whether or not he could rest his pounding head against the cool helm for a
minute without being scolded or slipping away into unconsciousness.
The third simply involved a couple of hundred sheep jumping over giant red and lilac flowers
on an extensive stretch of green meadow.
Tom decided that hallucinations weren't a good sign, and that he should stick with his first
appearing scenario if any.
He was just about to open his mouth, but Chakotay was in advance of him. Probably realising
that the young pilot actually was suffering, he promised Tom to go if he'd just delivered a
PADD to the engineers in their main hide-out on a lower deck.
Tom gratefully accepted, took the offered piece of technology, and hoped that he didn't sway
too much as he stumbled away, bright, painful edges shrieking out from the corners of his
range of vision.
***
Fifteen minutes later, an impatient Chakotay hit the comm button and called the engineering.
B'Elanna Torres, young, but an already etablated engineer, answered his call.
"I expected a quick response to the message I sent!" Chakotay ranted.
"What message?" B'Elanna frowned questioningly.
"The one Tom Paris was supposed to deliver!"
"I'll go see if he's somewhere between you and me," B'Elanna offered resolute before
Chakotay could add anything else.
***
B'Elanna didn't have to go far, only a few meters from the entrance to her station, Tom laid
sprawled out in the hallway.
The important PADD was still safely wrapped by his long, but lifeless fingers. He hadn't let go
of it, B'Elanna realised as she bent down to check if he breathed stable.
While still leaning over him, her wrist accidentally brushed across Tom's exposed forehead.
Shocked, B'Elanna pulled her arm back. His forehead was boiling hot.
***
"He has high fever," the tall man stated. His name was Melh, and he was temporarily serving
as a doctor.
The two people present, Chakotay and B'Elanna Torres, both glanced at the unconscious man
who laid at the bed.
Chakotay experienced mild scruples because of the rising fever, but comforted himself that a
little fever was no big deal after all. A little fever usually wasn't. But not almost four degrees
above the normal.
"How long is he going to stay like this?"
"I think he's floating on the verge to come back now," the Bolian medic informed, as a fully
covering answer. "Sometimes a simple word from someone else can be enough to wake a
patient of this kind up. And of course, he has to get some rest afterwards."
"Of course," Chakotay replied the doctor. In the same breath he hissed to his loyal engineer
that she could say something to Paris.
Then he gave Melh one last nod, and left the otherwise quiet little room.
When Chakotay's unmerciful steps had ebbed away, B'Elanna and the doctor was alone with
the still Tom.
By Melh's way to scrutinize a medical tool, and sometimes glance up at her, B'Elanna
understood that he anticipated for her to speak to Tom or leave. She rolled her eyes and finally
stepped up to the insignificant bed. A bed where she'd been posted herself many times.
She wanted to get over with this.
Tom was pale, and though he, to her, was nothing but asleep, he still looked tired.
Somehow, B'Elanna who suddenly felt gripped by the pitiful sight, leaned over and hissed
"Fight!" at Tom's face.
She only stayed long enough to see a small twitch grip the hand that finally had let go of the
PADD, before she too left.
For the blink of any eye, a small smirk remained as a touch on her lips. B'Elanna headed back
to engineering through the gloomy hallways, convinced that she'd never do something like that
again. Especially not for Tom Paris.
*
End.... frky_vg@kittymail.com is here for your comments... :)