The walk to his newly reassigned quarters was a strange one for Tom Paris. Buoyed by the faith Captain Janeway was showing in him, thrilled at the idea of getting to fly again - and such a state of the art ship at that – and yet burdened by the responsibility. It was amazing how much two little pips could weigh. Two tiny round stubs of metal was all they were, yet his feet seemed to press into the deck like someone had increased the artificial gravity by a factor of ten. He only hoped he could live up to her expectations and not screw up again like he always seemed to manage to do.
Almost walking smack bang into Chakotay as he entered the turbolift was not the most auspicious of beginnings, and only served to remind Tom of one of the more monumental in his long history of failings.
"Sh… Sorry."
"Paris". Chakotay's expression was one of forced neutrality, but he couldn't hide a subtle undertone of amusement. Tom sighed inwardly and attempted to calm the rising flush of embarrassment in his cheeks.
"How's the leg?" He leaned himself against the opposite wall of the lift to the one Chakotay was currently propped against, bending his knee up beneath him so his foot was flat against the wall panel.
"Good as new". Chakotay smiled slightly, thoughts clearly somewhat deeper than his newly healed leg, "I hear congratulations are in order Lieutenant".
"Likewise... Sir". Tom attempted to keep the sarcasm out of his voice – fresh start, Paris, fresh start – but was only partially successful. Fortunately, Chakotay still appeared to be wrestling with some unspoken thought and barely noticed Tom's indiscretion.
"Computer, halt turbolift. Listen, thanks... for what you did for me down there". This was not what Tom had been expecting Chakotay to break the silence with. The surprise made his reply even less subtle.
"Wow, you really have turned over a new leaf haven't you?"
"Shame I can't say the same about you". There was a simple honesty in this knee jerk response that spoke of the scabs of old wounds being picked at. Time to get the plasters out or this one was going to start bleeding.
"Oh come on Chakotay, don't judge too quickly. What's a bit of banter between old friends?" Too much flippancy, but Tom knew no other way to try and diffuse the increasingly tense situation.
"We were never friends Tom". Chakotay glanced down at this statement, and when he raised his eyes to Tom's again he rubbed his chin self-consciously, head tilted slightly to the side, "But I hope we can change that".
It was too much to expect that Chakotay would hold out the proverbial olive branch twice in one conversation, and if he was honest more than Tom deserved, so he wasn't about to push it away for a second time.
"I'd like that". The tension that had been clearly present since the beginning of the conversation changed subtly in tone, whilst intensifying a few notches as the two men's eyes met with expressions of confused apology. That they both wanted to try and settle their differences was not in question, but there was a whole lot of figuring out how to relate to each other that had to be done first.
"Things could have been different". There was a melancholy in Tom's tone, a wistful sense of longing for time that could never be regained.
"They couldn't. But they can now". Chakotay's reply was definite but hopeful, conveying a desire to draw a line under the past and move forward. Tom, however, wasn't prepared to be so final about abandoning territory that they had strayed into but never discussed.
"We were almost more than friends... once, weren't we?" No more evading the issue. They needed to have this out in the open in all its raw honesty if they were to move on from it. Chakotay let out a long sigh, but his expression softened into one of tender reflection.
"Almost. But I was too angry and you were too young, too full of it". Was there a hint of regret in his voice? Tom wanted, but didn't dare allow himself, to believe that – old feelings were stirring in his gut and turning his insides into a tempest. Somewhere in the maelstrom of emotion, impulse took hold of him and he heard himself say,
"Do you think that ship has sailed Chakotay?" The pause that followed was long, painful and thick with anticipation.
"Honestly... I don't know". Tom's heart was thudding practically out of his chest – all he could fixate on was the fact that it wasn't a flat out no. He regarded Chakotay's battle worn expression as he struggled to prevent himself imagining the feeling of the bigger man's strong arms around him. He stifled a shiver as Chakotay voiced the conclusion of his own internal struggle.
"Why did you betray us?" It was always going to come up. The pain and disappointment in Chakotay's voice cut Tom deeper than he'd expected – was it possible that he was still in love with his former captain after all this time? The only way he could answer was with the truth.
"She gave me the chance to see the stars again. To feel the engine vibrations beneath my feet".
"Is that it?" Now it was Tom's turn to be hurt. If Chakotay understood him as well as Tom hoped he did, he should know that was enough – that it was more than enough.
"Oh come on Chakotay, you know me. I live to fly - I was dying in that penal colony. I'm not made for terra firma surely you can understand that?" Chakotay's expression reassured Tom that he did understand. He didn't like it, but he understood.
"So where do we go from here?" Tom wasn't sure quite when Chakotay had managed to turn the conversation around so the ball was firmly in Paris' court.
"Depends. Can you forgive me? Or am I beyond redemption?" Tom hated the heavy tone of self-pity in his question, but he had to know the answer.
"We've all made mistakes Tom. Done things we aren't proud of. Doesn't mean we stop trying to be better". Chakotay neatly sidestepped the crux of the question whilst still appearing to answer it.
"Janeway tell you to say that?" Why Paris, why? Why do you keep trying to push him away when really that's the last thing you want to do?
"No. I'm sure she gave you the motivational speech herself. I said it because I mean it". Fortunately, despite Tom's best efforts, Chakotay wasn't going to be pushed. In that case, neither was he.
"So what about things you wish you'd done but didn't?" Chakotay paused at Tom's blatant challenge, regarding him quizzically. Paris was fixing him with a penetrating stare.
"Those too". There was too much meaning loaded in those two words for Tom to deny their implication. Compulsion grabbed him again and something in the back of his mind told him he wasn't going to run away from a difficult situation. Not this time. Not this new Tom Paris.
"Computer, resume. Maybe you're right Chakotay. Maybe it's never too late to try and make amends". Tom leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Chakotay's cheek, very close to his mouth but shying away from full on the lips – a gentle pushing open of the door rather than a full blown offer. He turned and stepped out into the corridor as the turbolift doors slid open.
"Maybe this…", he held his arms out gesturing to the ship as he slowly turned around, "…will turn out to be a second chance for both of us".
He left Chakotay standing in wide-eyed astonishment as he walked away.