Here is a brand spanking new story. I'm not giving up my old one, rather I'm alternating so I don't so bored. This story is very AU but its going to be a lot of fun. Definatly going to have adult content so be warned! Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, just put them in karma sutra positions sometimes. Also note; this story is unbetaed and pretty apt to stay that way. Good reviews inspire me to write more ;) Please enjoy!
If you wanted to find something, you went to the small backwater planet Delta Four. Whatever the case may be- drugs, spirits, weapons, information, or a bounty hunter to find it for you if it wasn't there at the time- you could find it on this lawless planet. More specifically at The Voyager, the infamous bar of the Alpha Quadrant's underworld.
'Appearances can be deceiving.' It fit the old earth cliché nicely, Tom Paris thought to himself as he took in the entrance to the meeting place for the galaxy's scumbags.
The dilapidated shack looked just like the rest of the old mining shacks lining the garbage strewn street. However the inside looked nicer then some of the sophisticated old earth bars Paris used to frequented in his youth. Except for the low lighting and the illegal dealings, this place was prized on its discretion.
Tom cursed as a lightly acidic rain began to fall -a by-product of poor technology and even worse corporate planning- and hurried inside. Only to come face to face with the bouncer Tuvok.
As a Vulcan, Tuvok was very through in his admittance and very methodical in his search for any weapons. Weapons being the one thing not directly allowed inside the bar. If you wanted to fight, you used your fists. The other good thing about this Vulcan was he was extremely loyal to the owner and would never betray a word of her confidence.
"Mr. Paris," Tuvok greeted, "It has been a long time since you passed through these doors. She will be glad to see you." And coming from him, this was high praise indeed. Tom Paris was one of the few in the entire galaxy who was allowed to bring his weapons into The Voyager.
"It's good to see you too, Tuvok. And it will be even better to see her."
Tom stepped through the door behind the bouncer and entered the bar itself. He was surprised to find it well lit and full of boisterous talk and laughter. His lips curved into a smile as the memories came flooding back. It was pool night.
The normal heavy wooden table and chairs had been pushed against the walls to make room for five pool tables. Tom was focused on the far pool table- the wobbly one- that was good table.
"Neelix, I'll have the usual," he called out to the Talaxian bartender as he passed by. The players at his table were just finishing up when Paris arrived in time to pluck the pool stick from the loser's hand and throw his batter flight jacket over the head of a low level thug watching from a barstool.
"Rack 'em up, the pool master has returned."
He words were greeted by laughter and catcalls, but none refuted him. Everyone knew the stories.
"Who is going to be the first to try and beat the unbeatable?" It was Paris's old friend Harry Kim who stepped out the growing crowd. Kim could design some of the best (and fastest) shuttles around but he couldn't fly one to save his life.
Tom slapped Harry on the back in greeting as he answered, "Good question Kim, I'm looking forward to some fresh blood.
A hotshot pilot stepped forward and offered himself up as the first of the slaughtered. The balls were racked and a coin was flipped to see who would break. Tom won. He saw it as the first of many wins to come.
X-X-X-X-X-X
Paris casually leaned against his stick and looked out across the room, sharp eyes taking in friends, acquaintances, and enemies. Many recognized him and called out greetings and death threats alike, catcalls he returned in good cheer. He heard a low growl and the crunching sound of the cartilage and bone of a nose breaking under a fist and knew Be'lanna Torres was in the building.
Be'lanna- he made a point to stay away from her. They had a brief fling a few years back and it had ended in a grandly awful way. Normally the honor system of Klingons kept them out of the mercenary business, but as a half breed Be'lanna had no such qualms. Using her natural strength and anger, not to mention amazing mechanical skills, she made for one of the most fearsome bounty hunters around.
He took a sip of whatever the hell Neelix had been serving him all night and directed his attention to the group dressed in Marquis leather, huddled in a darkened corner. Probably plotting the overthrow of Starfleet. Again. Paris didn't care about them so long as their leader, Chakotay, wasn't around. The two men couldn't be in one another's presence without fighting, usually about the lovely owner and manager of The Voyager.
Tom frowned and looked around again. Where was the lovely owner? Paris was a little hurt she hadn't come to greet him right away. She had to know he was here. That woman knew everything; Tom didn't know how she did it. She could tell you details of the most recent treaty between the Federation and the Romulans or the petty quarrels of two insignificant moons.
He shrugged to himself as he finished off his drink, she would show up when she felt like it, for now he had some more pool players to wipe the floor with.
X-X-X-X-X-X
Tom couldn't believe it. Some cheeky kid had trounced him. Came up to him, said he had never played before and could the master show him how? Tom, his ego polished, had handed over his stick and gave him step by step instructions. Until the kid broke, sunk all but one solid (and no strips) and proceeded to call the side pocket for the eight ball and sink that too.
Paris narrowed his eyes at the kid, who was standing in front of him holding his pool stick and grinning. Those sparkling blue eyes, half hidden by a ragged, dirty hat, looked familiar, and sinking the solids was a trademark…
Tom lunged forward and pulled the hat off the kid's head causing waves of thick auburn hair to come tumbling down. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the petite woman who was still grinning cheekily at him.
"Kathryn Janeway, I should have known."
"Tom Paris, you fell for it good and well. And now you own me another 1,000 credits."
"Ever the business woman, aren't you Captain?"
"You know me to well Paris."
"Not well enough it seems, because you seemed like the type of person to give their friend a big hug and free drinks for the night after being away for so long."
Kathryn Janeway, nicknamed 'The Captain' in a mockery of Starfleet's hierarchy, put her hands on her hips and glared at her oldest, and best friend. "I will do no such thing." And she was running at him full force to wrap her arms around him in a suffocating hug.
"Woman, you are full of contradictions," he huffed at her as he squeezed her back just as tightly.
"That's why you like me," she replied, her voice muffled against his chest.
"Yes," Tom whispered to quiet for anyone to hear as she wriggled out of his arms, claiming in a loud voice it was undignified for the most dangerous woman in room to be seen hugging a scumbag like Paris and he better not try anything like that again or she'll have to beat him about the head with her pool stick.
Tom grinned at the whirlwind she was, as she hopped the bar and proceeded in mixing drinks that would have him roaring drunk in minutes. 'Just like old times,' he thought, as he reached to take the glass she held out for him.