For those of you who wanted to see cannon Paris and Janeway together after the events of Ground Hog Day, I think I've found a way.
"They're always looking for workers at the Power Distribution Plant," Kathryn smiled at the blond man with a cheeky grin. "I work there," she added without a reason.
Just why he'd taken her notice on entering the tavern at the end of her shift, Kathryn couldn't comprehend. Then she'd chosen a seat at the bar beside him. He'd been the one to initiate conversation by asking her name the moment she sat on the stool. He reminded her of someone, she just couldn't remember who and so decided to grant his request. Intrigued, and interested in getting to know him on a personal level, Kathryn asked about his work history. It seemed he was currently between jobs. A unique situation on this planet with a major workforce shortage.
Tom shook his head, lifting the drink to his lips. Something about the woman played on his mind. He'd known her, before. Before what, he couldn't recall, just before.
"I had a job there once," Tom allowed his eyes to settle on the red hair and grey eyes as his heart gave a decided lurch and his groin responded. "Didn't like it much," the words issued with sardonic humour directed at himself.
"Odd," Kathryn smiled, watching him observing her. He looked human. Her memories of Earth were a little fuzzy. There had been so much pollution and violence on that world, she was lucky to have escaped, to be on Quarrea and in her current position. "They treat their employees well. How long were you there?"
His smile, when he chose to use it, was blinding. Oh, Kathryn had no doubt he'd turn out to be a flirt of the worst kind. Yet, she couldn't deny that she was already attracted to the irrepressible man. There was just something, liberating, about Mr. Tom Paris.
Shrugging his shoulders, Tom smirked wickedly, "Long enough to know I would have remembered you." When his companion lifted an eyebrow, Paris knew he's seen her do that, before. He just couldn't remember, before and it irked him. "Half a day, actually. Give or take an hour."
"Not what I'd call an illustrious career," Kathryn couldn't help the chuckle escaping. Scrutinising him, she stated, "I can't see you as someone sitting behind a console pushing buttons."
"I can push buttons," Tom mock frowned. Suddenly smirking flirtatiously, he gently touched her hand. For an instant, he remembered a flash of gold on her third finger but couldn't recall the significance. "Although I prefer a more active position."
"Now, why do I believe that," she didn't try to hide her amusement. That smile, once again, caused Kathryn to shiver. She'd seen it, before and it affected her the same way.
"Can I ask you something," Tom requested. When the curious look was exchanged for a nod, he tempted fate. "What do you remember of Earth."
Kathryn pursed her lips immediately, forcing Tom to look away, fearing he'd crossed an invisible line. He needed to concentrate on the thoughts running through his head and not her very kissable mouth showing her displeasure. The image of them in bed, sheets and limbs tangled, assaulted his mind.
Where the hell did that come from, Tom wondered, shocked and astounded, and why can't I remember. I knew Kathryn, no, Kate, before.
"Why do you think I'm from Earth?" Kathryn watched him carefully. The man before her had changed. The incorrigible flirt had disappeared, to be replaced by a genuinely confused individual. Frowning, Tom's demeanour had transformed completely.
"I'm from Earth," Tom spoke slowly, his ideas forming. "You appear to be from the same species. Our eye and hair colouring are similar. Even the way you carry yourself when you walked into this bar, it was, familiar. I felt I knew you, before."
Eyes widening, Kathryn felt the same way. "I am from Earth," she whispered. "I don't recall much of…of before."
"Me either and I find that kind of strange. Why, if we knew each other, before," Tom felt the ideas spinning out of control, "didn't we recognise each other immediately."
"I did," Kathryn confessed. "At least at some instinctual level. I knew I had to sit next to you, to talk to you."
They continued to stare at each other, trying to recall their past. It didn't help. Whatever images were trapped in Tom and Kathryn's minds steadfastly refused to budge. Sitting together, sipping their drinks, the atmosphere turned melancholy.
"I caught a flash, of gold," Tom couldn't keep the recollection contained when the silence became so thick he could cut it with a knife. He knew it was important, even if the memory didn't make sense to him. "Here," he reached for Kate's hand and pointed, "on this finger."
"A wedding ring," Kathryn stated, taking in a long, shocked breath. She could picture the item clearly. "My parents use to wear them, on Earth. It was an old custom, practiced by traditionalists."
"Do, do you think we were married," Tom's pupils dilated with the adrenalin rushing through his veins. He knew it was true, but not. The thoughts were contrary and confusing. "On Earth, I mean."
"I don't think so," Kathryn stuttered. Her emotions in a maelstrom, she knew her feelings for Tom were more than she'd ever willingly show. For some reason, she felt they needed to be contained. Something, very important to her, would break if she allowed herself to openly show just how much she loved this man. "Surely," the words came out as a whisper, "I would remember." All the blood drained from her face. "Children," the word was little more than a croak.
"Children," Tom's expression became brooding.
"I remember a park," Kathryn stated, her voice becoming stronger as the memory surfaced, at least in part, "with children."
"By the river," Tom added, the image coming so clearly. He could almost smell the crisp, clear air, hear the tinkling of the water as it gently made its way down stream and feel the warmth of the sun on his exposed skin. For all his senses to be engaged, the memory had to be real, which meant Earth was not as polluted and overcrowded as he recalled. Something wasn't right, but he couldn't make sense of these fractured memories.
"But it wasn't real," Kathryn stated in a voice that bespoke finality. Shaking her head furiously, more images just wouldn't come.
"Yes, it was. I know we went there," Tom couldn't let this drop, it was too important. The wonderment of the scene held him enthralled. "With other families. There wasn't any pollution and we were happy. I called you Kate, Kate Paris. To everyone else you were…Kathryn."
"Then why did we leave?" Kathryn demanded, her scientific mind attempting to make sense of all the facts.
"Maybe we need to find out," Tom frowned.
"Come back to my place," Kathryn offered without thinking. She knew she couldn't let this man out of her sight. For some reason, he was a link to her past. Although she didn't recall the same memories, they resonated with her, in both Kathryn's heart and mind. "If the housing supervisor catches us…"
"I'll tell them we were married, before," Tom stated. "That they made some kind of mistake when they allowed us to settle here."
Nodding her agreement, they left the bar together. As expected, the housing supervisor caught them entering the apartment building. When challenged, Tom defended Kate and their previous relationship. The supervisor called for a medical team on the grounds that Tom was delusional.
"No," Tom refused, vehemently. The nurse continued to insist that both he and Kate submitted to her injections. The explanation, like their fractured memories, didn't make sense. In fact, less and less about Quarrea was beginning to make sense. "I won't take your injection and I won't let my wife either."
The medical staff looked at him, fear in their eyes. Kathryn noticed but couldn't understand the reaction. "Why don't you just release us," she cajoled, instantly realising she'd been down this road before. If she didn't calm the situation, and the man at her side, it would spiral out of control. "Tom and I just want to go home. I promise we won't make any trouble, if you just let my husband and I go."
Finally, after several hours of argument with increasingly superior bureaucrats, the issue seemed to be solved. Tom would start a new job the day after tomorrow, flying continental transports. Somehow the position suited him, even though neither of them could remember Tom piloting anything. Kathryn would return to her position at the Power Distribution Plant. The gold bands Tom recalled were authorised, but would come out of their salary. Both employed and allowed to co-habit, so long as it didn't affect their efficiency while working, the cost would be negligible. However, in the interest of the Quarrean labour shortage, both would have to agree to monthly contraceptive boosters. The employment situation meant children were a luxury the planet couldn't afford in terms of providing care and schooling.
A look from Kate silenced Tom. They had won this round. He took his shot, not sure if the nurse had actually exchanged the liquid in the syringes. It was odd, he recalled working in something like this hospital, before. It was familiar, comfortingly so. At the last minute, as the nurse pressed the hypospray, Tom put a few millimetres between himself and the injector. The fluid running down his neck was easily hidden under his hand with an angry look and 'Ouch'. Kate's shocked eyes witnessed Tom's subterfuge. Employing the same strategy, they were immediately released to their shared home.
Days and weeks passed easily as they developed an easy rhythm. Both Tom and Kathryn were acuity aware of being observed, at work, in public and possibly in their private life. It didn't take long for the couple's act to become reality. Melding their lives seamlessly came naturally, as if they'd done it before, which leant proof to Tom's assertions and both their emotions. They'd known each other before, could react to the others thoughts and feelings without words. Comfort was taken and given without ceremony. Even their arguments resolved after one or the other backed down. They proved to be compatible in every aspect.
A month passed before they were recalled to the medical centre. Once again, the nurse insisted they needed their contraceptive boosters. They played the same game. A second and third month passed without more memories revealing themselves. This time, a very specific image assaulted Tom's conscious as the hypo was pressed to his neck.
"You not only separated us, you took our children, when we came here," his recollections continued to be fractured but were returning, rapidly. In that instant, Tom Paris couldn't shake the vision of three little bodies lying in a cot. Enraged, he demanded, "where are our children. What have you done with them."
"Tom," Kathryn laid a calming hand on her husband's forearm. While he could read the confusion, she didn't let the medical staff know she didn't share those memories.
"Edward, named after your father, and Jane from your maiden name. Janeway. Little Grace. Where…" Swallowing hard, Tom came to the startling realisation they were from the alternative time line. A reality he'd lived for over six months. Returning to his own existence, he'd shown the Captain what was possible between them but could never happen.
Until now. Tom came to the sudden realisation. Until Quarrea, when our memories have been taken from us and instinct was allowed to take over. The attraction's always been there, we've just never been able to act on it.
The life of Commander Thomas Paris, Intelligence Officer and husband to Captain Kathryn Paris was an experience his mind had latched onto in this enforced detention. After returning from that experence, Tom had changed. Taking on a little of his alter ego's persona, the effect of hours of training, knowing what he was capable of, if the situation called for it, transformed Tom Paris's character. Quieter, more dedicated to his job, willing to take on responsibility, everyone in the crew had noticed the subtle changes. The Captain more than most, as she knew the reason behind her helmsman's transformation.
Kathryn Janeway had never allowed herself to feel anything romantic for a member of her crew. Tom Paris came about as close as she'd allow. There had always been a fission of tension between them. The hand on his shoulder as the man sat at the con, a knowing smirk after one of his off-colour jokes. Those had formed the reason for the crew calling Tom her recollimation project. In her heart, Kathryn Janeway knew it had been more. Attraction, one she could never express, let alone grab and follow.
Suddenly clamping his lips, Tom looked wildly around. This was not Voyager. Somehow their lives had been erased and they'd ended up here, on Quarrea. In the last month he'd seen B'Elanna, Tuvok and Seven at the Power Distribution Plant when collecting his wife at the end of her shift. The exacting work wouldn't be suitable for many of Voyager's crew. They had to be trapped in laborious positions on this planet.
Putting those six months as Commander Paris to good use, Tom knew how the Intelligence officer would act. Shaking his head, he swallowed, hard. "They died, didn't they?" he demanded of the nearest medical attendant, giving the authorities a convenient out. "Before we got to Quarrea. Is that the reason we left Earth? Because the pollution killed out children?"
Nodding, the bureaucrat latched onto the excuse. "We believe so, Tom. I assure you, there were no children on your ship when we found it."
Once again, he submitted to their injection, ensuring none of the medication entered his blood stream. It has to be the way they are repressing our memories. Kate said there was a monthly radiation shot at the plant, Tom theorised, which explains why her memories are hazier than mine. Recalling the hours spent with Voyager's EMH, to the best of Mr. Paris's knowledge, no one at the distribution centre should need protecting from radiation.
"Can we go now," Tom almost whined.
Kathryn, her own memories beginning to coales, understood her helmsman's ploy. They needed to get out of here, to catalogue how many of Voyager's crew were trapped on this planet. Most of all, they needed to uncover what happened to her ship and if anyone had escaped. All while keeping their cover as a married couple.
It took a week before Chakotay turned up. They planned to shut off the power plants output, allowing Harry, B'Elanna and the EMH to transport all of Voyager's crew back to the ship. While the First Officer noticed the gold bands, he didn't say a word. That discussion would never occur if Cpt. Janeway chose to keep her own council. Yet, Chakotay, and the rest of the crew, had noticed the closeness creeping into the friendship between the helmsman and the captain, especially after the Sakari Caves incident with Tom and B'Elanna.
"What happened," Chakotay requested of the Chief Engineer once Voyager was back on course for the Alpha quadrant, "on Sakari?"
Turing, her back ramrod straight and arms crossed over her breast, Torres speared her friend with an assessing glare. "You were there, Chakotay."
"I know Tom refused to complete the Pon Farr with you," he recalled gently, his eyes pleading for Torres to go with him on this one, "both in the cave and when Tuvok ordered him to on the planet's surface. Why?"
"He's in love with someone," B'Elanna sighed. "A woman he can never have. I think she broke is heart. Tom's never spoken about it, but I noticed it the day after the final Nistrim attack. He met Harry and I on the holodeck. I've never seen him so sad and vulnerable." A secret smile covered Torres lips, "Tom didn't care when Harry and I beat him at pool."
"But you loved him," Chakotay took the opportunity of an open conversation with the usually resistant Klingon. He'd never seen B'Elanna so honest about her feelings.
"I told him, on the Klingon day of Honour, when we almost died retrieving the warp core," the smile turned melancholy. "Afterwards, we gathered to celebrate Tuvok's promotion and Tom took me aside. He looked so sad, saying he wished he could love me back. That I deserved to be cherished by the man I gave my heart too."
"But he wasn't that man," Chakotay supplied.
Shaking her head, Torres sighed. "I've had to settle for being his friend. I guess it became clear who the woman was, on Quarrea. You know, Tom used to come by the plant every day and collect the Captain. I saw them as I went on shift and wondered if any man would ever look at me the way Tom looked at her."
"That's going to create problems," Chakotay muttered under his breath.
"Why," B'Elanna's expression was curious. "I mean, they've been living together for three months. Everyone's noticed the looks they give each other. Before this, the Captain wouldn't allow herself a personal relationship. What done is done. Sometimes you can't go back." With that Torres shrugged her shoulders and walked away.
"No," Chakotay's heart understood only too well. "You can try. God knows I have. I guess the crew are just going to have to get used to the idea." Snorting, the Frist Officer knew his heart would be the first to object. Yet, Kathryn deserved more than a passing fling, especially as the object of her desire was in reach. Shaking his head, every hard-fought shred of respect for Tom Paris disappeared as jealousy overcame him. "Only," Chakotay muttered to himself, "because he's got what you wanted. I should have known, or at least suspected when Kathryn was the only one able to get Tom away from Alice."
They'd been back three days. Repairs were complete and yellow alert stood down. Voyager was on route to the Alpha quadrant. Yet, Kathryn Janeway refused to leave her ready room. In a box, the gold band shined, reminding Kathryn of the happiest three months of her life and accusing her of cowardice at the same time.
"Come," she called when the chime sounded.
"You wanted to see me, Captain," Tom asked.
"No," Kathryn looked into the face of the man she loved. Quarrea taught her that much. Duty, however, dictated they couldn't be that happy.
A curious expression crossed Tom's face. Dark smudges framed his blue eyes that were missing their usual humour. His skin pale and drawn, it appeared as if the man hadn't slept since returning to Voyager. Hell, she hadn't and probably for the same reason.
Making his way around the desk, Tom knelt. Gently reaching out a hand, he touched Kate's face. She leant into the contact before taking in a deep, steading breath and pulling away.
"Don't," Tom declared, his voice hard and uncompromising, "I've lost you once Kate, I won't go through that again."
"Mr. Paris," the Captain stood with every intention of dealing with her wayward pilot.
"I think this," Tom snatched the box off her desk, "proves we're meant to be together, no matter what situation we find ourselves in. Kate, don't ask me to forget for a second time, I can't, I won't. It would kill me, after tasting what it's like to once again lay beside you every night, to share your life. Hell, you're in no better shape than me," he suddenly realised. Her drawn expression displaying the lack of sleep. The lifeless eyes and slow movement. "That's why Chakotay ordered me in here. Hell, I can't believe he approves and is actively trying to help."
"That will be enough, Mr. Paris," Kathryn ordered.
"Nothing will be enough," Tom stated acidly, "until you come to your senses, Kate. We've been given an opportunity. The question is are you willing to take it? I know I am. For what it's worth," holding up his hand, Tom wiggled his finger, "I'm not taking this off. It means too much. I learnt it's not other people's expectations that are important, that define me, it's my own. I love you, I have for a very long time. I love you so much I can't form a relationship with another woman. Hell, I tried with B'Elanna and hurt her in the process. I'm not willing to do that again."
Grey eyes continued to glare at the man before her. Kathryn's heart broke, but as Captain, she couldn't let his words affect her. "Dismissed, Mr. Paris."
Nodding, a defeated expression covered Tom's face. Shoulders slumped, he pivoted and exited the room. On the bridge, Chakotay noticed his exit. Paris's posture gave away the end result.
"I've put you in command on the Gamma shift, starting tonight. Go and get some sleep, Mr. Paris," the first officer ordered.
Nodding, Tom didn't say a word, or make eye contact with anyone on the bridge as he moved toward the turbolift. If there was another person on board who understood, it was Chakotay. He'd stood beside Kate for almost seven years and waited to be noticed. The thought was ironic. Shaking himself from his misery, Tom made his way to the holodeck. As if he wasn't in enough pain, he called up the River Park Program. It hadn't been opened since that day he returned from the other reality. Even then, he'd not played the entire program to Kate. Needing to feel anything, even hurt, Tom immersed himself in a life he could never have.
Another week passed. It was obvious to anyone, just how much the Quarrea situation had affected Lt. Paris and the Captain. Tuvok, Harry and B'Elanna had expressed their worry to the First officer. However, it was Neelix who provided the push necessary to get through to Kathryn.
"Captain," Neelix smiled, greeting the woman at the mess door. Escorting her to a secluded table, he poured real coffee into her cup. "I'm so glad you decided to join us today. I have something very special on the menu."
"I'm not very hungry," Kathryn stated.
Frowning, the Talaxian sat down. "Strange," he shook his head, "Tom says the same. You know, I'm worried about him Captain. This morning, when he came off the Gamma shift, he almost collapsed. I'm not surprised, he won't even eat, what is it he calls it." Pausing for effect Neelix came up with the phrase at the same moment the Captain was about to say something. "Comfort food. I've tried making him peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. He smiles politely, takes a bite, then leaves when he thinks my back is turned."
"I'll take care of it, Mr. Neelix," Kathryn sighed. Waiting until she exited the mess, with the wonderful tasting coffee, the Captain comm'ed sick bay.
"Go ahead," Tom answered the call.
"What are you doing in sick bay," Kathryn demanded, shocked after Neelix's description of Tom. Her heart went to her mouth until logic superseded it.
"Assisting the doctor with the final treatment required from our last away mission," Tom tried to keep the resentment, and fatigue, from his tone. "I believe yours is overdue, Captain."
"I'm on my way, Captain out," Kathryn sighed. Once again activating the com system, she requested the roster for Mr. Paris since returning from Quarrea. It seemed Tom followed his bridge shift with another in sickbay. He then spent every possible moment of his off hours in the holodeck. Shivering, the Captain had a feeling she knew exactly which program he was playing and why.
Heading for deck six, Kathryn used her override to open Tom's program. She found what she suspected, it had been activated a week ago, after their fight in her ready room. Once again accessing the comm system, she ordered, "Mr. Paris, holodeck one, now!"
Whatever occurred behind those doors, only the participants would ever know. Suffice to say, the relationship between the Captain and her helmsman changed. Kathryn Janeway might have entered, but a woman bearing a striking resemblance to Mrs. Kate Paris exited, wedding band included. Chakotay wasn't surprised at the request to be made temporary Captain and marry two of Voyager's senior officers. To say he was happy officiating would have been a bald lie. However, he conducted himself efficiently, remaining in the position to give Kate and Tom Paris a week's honeymoon.
In his office, thirty thousand light years distant, a request came across Admiral Owen Paris's desk with the last data dump from Voyager. Howling with laughter, he though it a joke at first. When a second request, this time from his son made the same assertions, it didn't seem so funny.
Dad,
I got married today. You'll kill me when you find out I've completely corrupted your protégé and made her my wife. I guess you should have seen it coming, especially after reading about the warp ten trials, what, five years ago now. We have three kids together somewhere in the Delta quadrant and I'm looking forward to the birth of our completely human child in seven months. Anyway, the reason for my letter is to request a posting which is out of the direct line of command from my wife. I'm sure Captain Kathryn Paris has already sent the paper work in triplicate to Starfleet administration. After all, you taught her well.
Your son,
Tom.