Author's Note: There are two sides to every story, and this one is no different. Witchcraft tells the Doctor's side and Unexpected Possibilities tells Tom's version of events. (Unexpected Possibilities is also posted on this ffnet account.) They're companion pieces, but can be read in either order.

Brad Harrison, Noah Mannick and the Subu war camp are from Pathways by Jeri Taylor. They're dating in the book, making that the earliest homosexual relationship (that I know of) in an official ST show or novelization. And written by the show's executive producer, no less.

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek: Voyager, the novel Pathways, or the lyrics to Witchcraft.


"Is he going to be alright?" Brad Harrison hovers nervously over his friend, Noah Mannick, who is being treated for a badly sprained ankle. Or at least the Doctor is attempting to treat him. Despite his reassurance that Ensign Mannick's injuries are easily treatable, he is finding it difficult to attend to Mannick, instead having to focus his attentions on Harrison and his protectiveness for his partner.

Mannick sits up on the biobed and tries to reassure his lover, but a momentary expression of pain crosses his features and counteracts his attempt. Harrison seizes upon this validation of his concerns and begins to question the Doctor with renewed vigor.

"Mr. Harrison," the Doctor interrupts firmly, "if you will allow me to perform my function, Mr. Mannick's ankle can be treated in a matter of minutes. Now if you would please leave sickbay immediately, I will finish my work, and he will be returned to you shortly." With this, he turns away abruptly, a response suggested by his behavioral subroutines to preempt any further interruptions from Harrison.

The Doctor notes with satisfaction that this behavioral combination forces both men into shocked silence, and he quickly runs the bioscanner over Mannick's ankle to ascertain the extent of the damage. Harrison recovers himself quickly, however, and is about to question the Doctor again when Tom Paris intervenes.

Paris puts his arm reassuringly around Harrison's shoulders and subtly steers him away from the biobed as smoothly and effortlessly as he would have guided a shuttle into the hangar bay. "Now Brad, you know the Doc can fix just about anything you can think of if you give him a chance to concentrate. He'll have Noah fixed up in no time." Paris continues to murmur reassuring platitudes to Harrison, effectively distracting the agitated man so the Doctor can work.

With a start, the Doctor realizes that he no longer has his attention properly focused on his patient, having allowed himself to be distracted by Paris as well. He adds a systems check to his pending actions cache to determine the reason for this lapse, then mentally refocuses on the task at hand.

He quickly analyzes the bioscanner readings on the tricorder screen and determines that his original diagnosis was correct. His vocalization subroutines produce a satisfied noise at this confirmation, and he quickly recalibrates his equipment to reduce muscular inflammation. He nods at Mannick's worried face and runs the instrument over his ankle.

"There we go. I have repaired the damage. You are free to go, Mr. Mannick. However, I would suggest that you be a little more careful on the holodeck in the future." Mannick looks guiltily down as he flexes his ankle, ensuring himself that the pain is gone. The Doctor's social interaction subroutine, which he began compiling shortly after his permanent activation, suggests that this statement may be a little harsh for the severity of the injury. He produces Response 46.2 as indicated, a reassuring smile, and adds, "After all, Velocity is intended as much for relaxation and enjoyment as for physical exercise." He pauses, smiling, until he successfully elicits a weak smile from Mannick. Then, confident that his patient has been successfully reassured, he turns and signals Paris.

As skillfully as he had deflected Harrison's attention away from his lover, Paris takes his elbow and guides him back toward the biobed, still softly chatting with him. Harrison stops in midsentence, surprise flashing across his face, as he realizes that Mannick is no longer on the biobed. Mannick looks up from where he is gathering their equipment together and flashes his lover a dazzling smile.

"See, good as new." Harrison looks toward the Doctor for confirmation. At his silent nod, Harrison's expression instantly changes to one of relief and joy, the slight lines of worry and tension falling away as if they had never been there. He returns Mannick's smile with a delighted smile of his own and helps him pick up the last of their Velocity equipment. "It was just a sprained ankle. You worry too much, Luv. And it's not like you made me do that rolling phaser shot on purpose."

They start out of sickbay, Harrison whispering something about winning a round for a change in a teasingly evil tone as they reach the door. They pause and turn back for a moment. "Thanks, Doctor." This from Mannick, but Harrison's bright smile expresses the sentiment just as clearly.

"My pleasure, Mr. Mannick." They nod and continue out the door, still whispering and laughing to each other. Paris watches them leave, an amused smile tracing its way across his fair features. The Doctor accesses his Paris interpretive subroutine and decides that this is Smile 187.5, one reserved for fondly watching others engage in romantic activities, most often seen while watching Harry attempt to interact with Seven or the Delaney sisters. Realizing that this smile is one of the rare smiles with no defensive function, the Doctor relaxes and disengages the subroutine while he waits for Paris' attention to return. Shortly after he began his in-depth analysis of psychoanalytic and therapeutic practices, he realized that Paris' easy-going manner and constant humor worked as a defensive mechanism of some kind and has begun compiling a subroutine to uncover the cause of this subterfuge. While he has not yet ascertained the root cause, he finds that the subroutine both helps him refine his general counseling subroutines and allows him to work more productively with his primary medical assistant.

Paris turns back toward the Doctor, the suggestion of a smile still evident in his features. "And thank you, Mr. Paris, for your timely assistance." Paris looks momentarily confused, his mind obviously on something else, so the Doctor adds "with Mr. Harrison." He understands, and his eyes dance with amusement, the blue seeming to sparkle with bits of silver for a moment. The Doctor, realizing the rather poetic nature of his thoughts, blushes slightly, to his amazement. He quickly accesses the pending action cache and upgrades the priority status of the systems check.

This completed, he returns his attention to the conversation in progress. To his distress, Paris is looking at him with curiosity. "Are you feeling alright, Doc? I could've sworn you just…."

"I assure you, Mr. Paris, my program is functioning properly." He replies quickly, before Paris can continue his speculation. But he notes with dissatisfaction that his prompt answer seems to have interested Paris further. The curiosity has deepened into a look of intense concentration, and he can see Paris' mind working to find an explanation. Determining the necessity of distracting Paris from this process, the Doctor waits approximately 4.372 seconds before continuing in the softer tone deemed most reassuring by his social interaction subroutine. "I have recently experienced a few minor fluctuations in some of my supporting subroutines and have not yet had the opportunity to analyze them properly. I assure you, it is not significant enough to affect my diagnostic or technical abilities. I will engage my internal systems analysis programs as soon as I am able, and these should correct the fluctuations easily." He accompanies this with Response 46.9, his most reassuring smile, but Paris' curiosity does not yet seem satisfied. "If I cannot determine the cause of the fluctuations immediately, I will request that Ms. Torres perform a diagnostic check of my programming before any possible errors could affect my primary functions. I assure you, Mr. Paris, I am fine."

Paris does not seem entirely convinced, but he smiles and shrugs as he turns away. "Sure, Doc. Well, I guess I'll just finish up the bioanalysis on Neelix's newest fruits. Just let me know if you need anything." He turns back to his work, and the Doctor accesses the Paris interpretive subroutine to identify this newest smile as number 84.7, his 'if you say so' smile. He frowns slightly. This is not the most desirable outcome, but it should be sufficient to allow him to complete his systems check before having to address Paris' curiosity again.

He goes into his office and sits down at his desk. He accesses his pending actions cache and decides to finish his data processing duties before concentrating on the systems check. In a matter of minutes, he has finished appending his notes into both the medical log and Ensign Noah Merrick's personal medical file. Deciding that the medical department's weekly status report can wait until morning, he double-checks that Paris is indeed busy with his duties before accessing his self-diagnostic subroutines. The Doctor shuts down all nonessential systems for approximately 8.295 seconds while the self-diagnostic performs its sweep. Much to his surprise, the diagnostic finds no errors or anomalies present in his program. He reviews his memory records for both the attention lapse and the poetic digression, but is unable to find any logical explanations for his reactions. He quickly repeats the diagnostic procedure, but the results are identical.

He leans back in his chair with a slight frown on his face, the response indicated by his body language subroutine for frustration. If these odd behaviors are not the result of a program malfunction, then what could be the cause? His vocalization subroutines produce an annoyed grunt as he realizes the only possible cause. His program contains the memory engrams of over fifty Starfleet medical personnel, designed to provide him with first-hand experience and flexibility. Unfortunately, the engrams carry traces of their owners' personalities as well as their experiences, resulting in unintended and sometimes contradictory personality quirks. While he cannot identify individual engrams or eliminate their influence on his own personality, he can sometimes trace specific reactions down to their origins given enough repeated occurrences. He can then compile subroutines to counteract their influence, as he had done once he realized his initially poor bedside manner was the result of an unplanned interaction between the memory engrams of a compassionate, but stubborn curmudgeon and a technically gifted surgeon with little interpersonal experience. His social interaction subroutine had been created to compensate.

Since he can design no remedy for the engrammatic interference until further occurrences provided a more exact identification of the problem, the Doctor relaxes and mentally reviews the day's activities. The encounter with Harrison still troubles him. He had not realized his difficulty dealing with concerned loved ones until Kes' premature Elogium had forced him to evict Neelix from sickbay. Kes had always provided a convenient distraction for them, as Paris had done with Harrison. He will have to address this shortcoming as soon as possible now that he has no full-time medical assistant. Although Paris seems quite skilled at dealing with people, his duties as helmsman interfere with his availability in sickbay. Now that Kes is no longer on board Voyager, he will have to find a way to fulfill this function himself.

The Doctor leans forward to access the week's medical logs on his LCARS terminal, using approximately twenty-three percent of his processing abilities to prepare the medical department's routine status report while he continues to reflect on Kes' departure. Although there has been a certain emptiness since her departure, he finds that Paris provides a more than adequate replacement. Despite his somewhat aggravating defensive reactions to others, Paris demonstrates an amazing ability to understand and carefully influence other people when he so desires. What Kes achieved through guileless innocence and enthusiasm, Paris does through easy-going manipulation. While both get the job done quickly and efficiently, the patient remains aware of Kes' sweetness while never realizing Paris has distracted them in the first place. Unfortunately, Paris has never realized that his true gift lies in medicine as Kes had. He unwisely wastes those gifted surgeon's hands on the helm and avoids sickbay duty as much as possible. Thus he has become a competent medic and a valuable medical assistant, but will never realize his true abilities in surgery.

"Hey, Doc." The Doctor looks from the computer screen to find Paris leaning into his office, one hand on the doorframe. "I'm all finished with Neelix's samples. Surprisingly enough, they're all okay. I'm going to go ahead and get out of here." He brushes his golden hair back from his face with his free hand in a gesture that the Doctor diagnoses as indicating fatigue before continuing. "See ya at Sandrines later?"

"Certainly, Mr. Paris. I'll see you there." Paris gives him a wide grin and leaves quickly before the Doctor can say anything else. The Paris interpretive subroutine identifies it as Smile 17.2, the expression of relief seen at the end of almost every duty shift in sickbay. The Doctor completes the status report and programs the computer to reactivate his program at 20:55 hours, allowing him time to readjust his holomatrix for casual attire before joining Paris in the holodeck.

Paris has convinced him that the best way to refine his understanding of the interpersonal interaction patterns of biological beings is to observe them in their native environment. So he has agreed to join the crew in Sandrine's at least once a week. Once he moved from the role of bartender to that of piano player, in part to escape the unwanted attention of Sandrine herself, he has found his excursions enjoyable as well as educational and has increased their frequency. Paris assures him that tonight will be especially interesting because Torres has agreed to bring some of the contraband alcohol created by some of the engineering personnel. Although the Doctor's holomatrix will of course be unaffected by alcohol, Paris assures him that it will make the interpersonal observation opportunities more interesting than usual. The Doctor rolls his eyes, a smile on his lips, Response 127.3 as his social interaction subroutine suggests is appropriate for harmless biological behaviors that he can't precisely diagnose. "Computer, deactivate emergency medical hologram."


"Please state the…." The Doctor looks around to confirm that his activation is not the result of an actual emergency. He is alone in sickbay. He retrieves his mobile emitter from its storage container and transfers his program from the medical bay holoemitters. He adjusts his projectors to change his uniform to a casual outfit consisting of khaki slacks, a simple white shirt, and a matching khaki vest. This completed, he exits sickbay and sets out for the holodeck. Although he could of course have transferred his program directly into the holodeck systems, he prefers the freedom offered by his mobile emitter. He has on occasion continued conversations off the holodeck and had once helped an injured crewman back to sickbay after an altercation. After that incident, he has decided that he would be neglecting his medical duties unless he allows himself as much flexibility as possible. One never knows what unusual things might occur during an evening at Sandrine's, especially with Lieutenant Tom Paris in charge of the festivities.

He reaches Sandrine's to find that the festivities already appear to be in progress. Although neither Janeway nor Chakotay are present, most of the regulars are there: Tom Paris, B'Elanna Torres, Harry Kim, and Joe Carey. The captain long ago decided that the best way to get a feel for the mental state of the crew was to regularly participate in the holodeck gatherings, and it was unusual for neither of the command pair to be in attendance. Judging by the number of specimen containers full of engineering contraband, the Doctor concludes that their absence was most likely planned. Although the still in engineering is a somewhat open secret, the command team would frown upon such blatant indulgence. After a contaminated batch sent several crewmen to sickbay with severe stomach cramps, he made a deal with Torres to trade his secrecy for the right to examine the product before it was available for consumption. So he has in effect become part of the 'moonshine' industry, as the biologicals like to call it.

He goes to his place at the piano and settles in for the evening. Although it is true he comes primarily to observe the others, he has to admit to a certain pleasure in exercising his musical subroutines. He flexes his hands before beginning a slow song, an unusual mixture of Terran and Andorian blues. Vorik makes his way over to the piano, seizing the opportunity to escape Madame Sandrine's attentions. The young Vulcan never looks fully comfortable at Sandrine's, but seems determined to learn how to 'have fun' as Paris and Torres keep urging him to do.

"Good evening, Doctor. I was not sure if you would be joining us this evening." The Doctor smiles lightly at Vorik's attempt at small talk. Although he has not been programmed to function in a purely social setting, he finds great pride in the fact that he has an easier time adjusting than do the Vulcans on board.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world. Mr. Paris promises that this evening will be even more entertaining than usual. And I have found it illogical to question his judgment in matters of entertainment." He accompanies this statement with Response 93.6, intended to communicate friendly sarcasm. As expected, Vorik responds only with a raised eyebrow. This exchange brings him great satisfaction, and he wonders once again what part of his program so enjoys baiting Vulcans. Chell, who is just joining them from watching Neelix and Carey play pool, overhears and chortles with laughter.

"True enough." The Bolian leans in closer, his bright blue face flushing slightly purple with excitement, to whisper to them conspiratorially. The Doctor, who has always been rather amused by Chell's joviality, leans closer, still smoothly running his fingers across the piano keys. "Tom does promise to provide an interesting evening. But not in the way he thinks…."

Vorik, looking slightly flustered at Chell's proximity, cocks his head to one side and provides Chell with the opening he has been waiting for. "I fail to understand the meaning behind your words. Is there some secret purpose to tonight's festivities of which I am unaware?"

Chell waits a moment before answering, trying to make the moment last as long as possible, but is as usual unable to contain his enthusiasm for very long. He bursts out excitedly, "The drinks!" When Vorik and the Doctor fail to respond immediately, he continues, "We made Tom's much higher proof than usual, but everybody else in the room is drinking ninety percent synthehol." He looks extremely satisfied with himself, and Vorik's obvious surprise only increases his pleasure.

"I had noticed the lower alcoholic content." The Vulcan looks at his drink again, looking slightly displeased that he has not deduced the situation for himself. "However, I had incorrectly surmised that there must be an error in our calculations. I had resolved to work on them with B'Elanna in the morning."

"Well, that certainly explains one thing," the Doctor replies, pausing to give Chell the opportunity to gloat once more. "Why Mr. Kim seems to be winning the drinking match." He gestures with his hand toward the table where Paris and Kim have about forty shot glasses spread across the table. Paris is quite obviously intoxicated, gesturing wildly and making clumsy grabs at the bottle to fill the next rounds, but Kim looks like he is trying desperately not to laugh.

At this, Joe Carey, just joining the group after resetting the balls for another round of pool, adds, "That's the genius of the plan. To ensure that Tom gets wasted before he can figure it out, B'Elanna keeps betting Tom that Harry can outdrink him. Harry acts just drunk enough to make it believable, but of course Tom keeps losing. Of course, he can't stand to lose that kind of contest to young Ensign Kim, especially not if it means losing face in front of B'Elanna. So he keeps drinking. By this time he would've probably figured it out, but he's gotta be drunk out of his mind by now."

Even Vorik looks slightly impressed by the detail of the plan. "An ingenious plan, I must admit." They stand in companionable silence for a moment, before Carey motions an invitation for Vorik to join him for the next round of pool. The two depart to start another game. The Doctor begins a new song and is about to say something to Chell when a commotion breaks out from Paris' table.

"I know more about twentieth-century music in my little finger than you'll ever know." The Doctor turns on the piano bench to see Paris standing over the table, stabbing his finger belligerently down at the surface to emphasize his point. This outburst of seeming nonsense is too much for Kim, who dissolves into laughter at the sight of his best friend waving the highly intelligent finger around defiantly. Torres quickly jumps in to cover for him.

"Prove it." She stands and puts her hands on her hips, successfully distracting Paris before he notices Kim giggling helplessly. Paris takes a moment to refocus his attention on this new opponent, and then crosses his arms across his chest. He pulls himself up to his full height and glowers down at Torres, but her Klingon attitude is more than sufficient to make up for the size differential.

Paris' face twists into a look of extreme superiority, somewhat marred by his extreme drunkenness, and he challenges loftily, "Pick a decade." He holds the pose for a moment as the bar falls into silence. The Doctor realizes that he has stopped playing momentarily, but then decides that this is appropriate to the moment.

Torres decides to push Paris one step further. She snorts derisively and laughs, "And you'll do what… Sing?" At this, Kim leans back in his chair and begins to chuckle softly, but Paris seems not to notice.

"Sure," Paris replies. He looks a bit uncertain, but is too drunk to back down gracefully. "I can sing. Just pick a decade." He looks more confident once he has repeated his challenge. He glares at Torres again as he makes his way toward the piano.

Chell quickly moves back to watch the fun, leaving the Doctor to watch Paris approach. "Fuck yeah, I can sing," he is muttering to himself. "Easy as cake." He frowns, apparently distressed by what he has said, but shrugs it off. He winks at the Doctor and says softly, "You'll help me through it, won't ya Doc?" The Doctor tries to offer Paris a supportive smile and nods.

Paris turns back to the audience and flashes a wide grin at Torres and Kim. The Doctor identifies it as smile 36.8, his 'do or die' smile, and grimaces. This is one of Tom's most highly defensive smiles, seen only when he feels his façade threatened and can't see any other way out. If he makes it through the song, everything will be fine, but if not… well, things could get messy. Both for the bar and for Tom's psyche. The Doctor looks out at the audience and determines to help Tom get through it as well as he can. He sees the expression on Ensign Kim's face and relaxes fractionally. Kim has recognized Tom's expression and knows what is at stake. At least one other person will be guaranteed to try to help Paris out if necessary. "Well…?" Tom lets the statement hang in the air defiantly. There is no turning back now.

Torres seems to deliberate for a moment, wondering what would be the most humiliating. She looks at Kim for input, but he just shrugs. "How about… the 1940s?" She pauses for a moment, but doesn't know twentieth-century music well enough to distinguish decades. "Yeah, the forties sound nice." She sits down, satisfied, and waits for the show to begin.

Tom looks slightly relieved as he says, "Forties it is." He turns back to face the Doctor, and whispers, "At least she didn't pick the seventies. Don't think I could do disco right now." He chuckles to himself before continuing, "Hmmm… how bout Sinatra? You know Witchcraft?"

The Doctor accesses his musical subroutines for confirmation and then nods. That particular Sinatra song had not been recorded until 1957, but he doubts anyone lacking cross-referenced memory files of the musical database will realize the inconsistency. He gives Paris his most supportive smile, Response 54.9, before adding playfully, "Old Blue Eyes does seem rather appropriate." He watches Tom's eyes sparkle in appreciation of the light irony. He softly commands the computer to provide additional orchestration, timed to his piano, as Tom turns back to the audience.

The music starts, but when it is time for Paris to begin, his voice trails off after only a few words. The Doctor looks up, horrified that the end has come so fast, and the music abruptly stops. But Tom's face reflects inspiration, not defeat, and he breathes a sigh of relief. "Wait… something's missing." Tom looks around as if searching for something, but the twinkle in his eyes demonstrates that he already has his next move planned. He moves abruptly toward the bar and grabs an unopened beer bottle. "This'll work." He flips the bottle upside down, and theatrically says over his shoulder, "Hit it, Doc."

The Doctor starts the music again, relieved that Paris seems to be in control of the situation. Tom moves out into the audience as he begins twitching his hips to the beat, cradling the bottle like a microphone. He has apparently decided that the best course of action would be to emphasize theatricality rather than musical precision. The Doctor agrees, thinking that his intoxication will probably support the emphasis, but is unprepared for the extent of his performance. As he sings, he demonstrates his words on the audience. "Those fingers in my hair," and he sits himself on Ensign Kim's lap to run his fingers through Kim's hair seductively. "That sly come hither stare," as he arches his back, his arms still around a very surprised Kim, to gaze into Torres' eyes with smoldering intensity. "That strips my conscience bare," as he slides smoothly off of Kim and into the chorus of the song.

Paris prances around the bar, teasing most of the crewmen present as he passes. The Doctor notes with satisfaction that Kim's cheeks remain a spectacular shade of red and Torres is laughing hysterically. Tom has his victory.

He arrives back at the piano as the instrumental section begins and gives a quiet computer command. The Doctor jumps as the piano changes under his hands, lengthening into a grand piano, but manages to continue playing. Tom jumps up on the lid of the piano, closed thanks to holodeck trickery, and begins to move to the music. The Doctor looks up to see what antics Paris is performing this time, and finds himself unable to look away.

Tom stands directly above him, eyes closed, as he moves with the rhythm. The Doctor has never seen a person look so enticingly seductive in his activation history. He crosses his arms across his chest and runs his fingers lightly across his body, one hand moving slowly up his arm as the other traces its way down toward his waist. He sways to the music, approximately 0.379 seconds behind the tempo, so that it seems as if the music itself is pulling his body, drawing forth a natural response.

As the Doctor watches, the percussion picks up, and Tom twitches his hips suggestively as he throws back his head, an expression on his face that the Doctor has never seen before. The crowd goes wild, hooting and laughing, but the Doctor finds himself suddenly unable to move. His hands freeze on the keys, and he stops playing abruptly, too spellbound to continue. The music continues, piano only an afterthought during the instrumental section, but Tom notices the change. He opens his eyes and looks down at the Doctor, his blue eyes flashing with something secret and mysterious. Their eyes lock, Tom's filled with a slightly dazed curiosity, the Doctor's with obvious fascination. The Doctor tries to look away, but can't break away from Tom's gaze.

How has he not seen the sinuous way this man moved before? The way he instinctively possesses the space he is in, moving as if the world around him is merely an extension of himself. He moves effortlessly, as if the universe is his to command, as easily as he controls the powerful starship.

The Doctor can see that power in his eyes. The power to take life or death into his hands, for the entire crew, and to wield it as easily as if it is his natural born right. So different from Kes' gentle grace and ethereal beauty, but just as undeniable. The perfect balance of strength and beauty. He has worked with the man for nearly six years, but has never seen what has been there all along. Why has he never noticed?

Tom's mouth opens, and he inclines his body gracefully toward the Doctor. With a start, the Doctor realizes Tom is whispering something to him. He tries to focus himself, as Tom repeats, "You okay, Doc?" He shakes his head in an attempt to clear the images of Tom from his mind and nods shakily. He looks desperately down at the piano keys and tries to focus. He begins to play again, unsteadily at first, then gaining strength, never taking his eyes off the keys.

Tom leaps gracefully down from the piano as he begins to sing again. He moves around behind the piano bench and places his hands on the Doctor's shoulders as he sings. The Doctor can feel Tom dangerously close behind him, can sense his movement through the changing pressure readings being processed through his sensory net. Tom twitches his hips again as he sings, "When you arouse the need in me," and it is all the Doctor can do to continue playing. He focuses desperately on his medical programming, approximating the strength of the alcohol, calculating the amount consumed by the number of glasses evident on the table, determining the consumption a man of Tom's height and weight could endure before becoming dangerously intoxicated. Anything to avoid the thought of Tom moving behind him. Thankfully, Tom moves away for the final lines of the song, finishing with a flourish.

Sandrines erupts in applause, and the Doctor braves a look. Kim is clapping furiously, looking extremely proud, although still slightly red with embarrassed pleasure. Torres is grinning from ear to ear, stamping her feet on the ground to emphasize her clapping. Carey does a loud wolf whistle from somewhere in the back of the room, bringing a fresh round of laughter. Sandrine is blowing kisses at Tom, murmuring appreciatively to Neelix and Chell about her 'Thomas'. Even Vorik looks impressed.

And Tom. He stands motionless in front of the crowd, visibly soaking up the applause. He has a delighted smile on his lips, almost blinding in its intensity. He wears an expression of ultimate triumph. Despite their attempted deceit, he has managed to surprise everyone. Far from humiliating himself, he has played upon them, using his voice and his body to control their every response. Now that the song is over, his victory gives him a compelling power over everyone in the room, and he knows it. He stays motionless a moment longer, timing the applause, then bows flamboyantly.

Tom motions for the Doctor to join him. The Doctor inclines his head, meaning to acquiesce gracefully, but finds himself responding to Tom as well. Before he realizes it, he is at Tom's side, and they bow together. To his horror, he finds himself responding to Tom in another way. He can feel a faint throbbing deep inside him, rapidly growing stronger. He realizes with shock that he can feel the pudendal muscles begin to tense as he stands dangerously exposed in front of the crowded room.

As the applause dies away, most of the crew gather around Tom excitedly, and he quickly slips out of the bar before anyone can catch him in conversation. He arrives at sickbay as quickly as possible, his analytical subroutines processing in confusion, frantically trying to comprehend his reaction. "Computer, deactivate EMH."