AN: Voyager is a great series. I'm enjoying it even more as I rewatch after near on twenty years. Yet some of the pretexts, especially in the first two seasons, strike me as preposterous. The first half of Threshold, and Robert Duncan's acting is amazing. Then the writers seem to have lost the plot, or run out of ideas. This is my version of what occurred. I hope you enjoy. Parts of the first chapter have been rewritten and other's moved to the start of chapter two.

Chapter One

"Once again Lt. Paris seems to have escaped his little adventure unharmed," The Doctor stated sarcastically, waving a neurological probe over the prostrate pilot. Watching the reading on his tricorder, the EMH frowned. "Life signs have returned to normal. I'm detecting slightly elevated serotonin readings in the hypothalamus. We'll add that to the enzymatic imbalance in his cerebellum. Noting to given me any alarm at present. Well at least the higher functions of the cerebrum are normal, if normal could ever be assigned to this particular patient. From what I can tell," snapping the device shut and turning off the probe, the doctor looked into the concerned eyes of his Captain, "he's just asleep."

"Can you wake him?" She enquired, letting out a soft sigh.

The elevated serotonin levels bothered her, especially after uncovering an abnormality in Tom's brain chemistry prior to this flight. Recalling Lt. Paris almost begging for this assignment in order to redeem himself, she'd reluctantly given in. He'd known the risks and taken them gladly. It was the result that caused Kathryn's dismay. She hated seeing any of her crew injured, especially her personal reclamation project.

Without warning, the EMH bent close to the slumbering man's ear and shouted, "Wake up, Lieutenant!"

"Are you all right, Tom?" Janeway's tone demonstrated her disapproval at the doctors' bedside manner by arching an eyebrow. Laying a gentle hand on Lt. Paris's shoulder as her pilot's eyes opened seemed to oriente him to the present. The action was more to assure herself than offer comfort to the obviously confused man.

Bolting upright, Tom's orbs finally focused on his surroundings. Peering into the concerned face of his Captain and the smirking visage of the EMH, he understood his location only too well. Swinging his legs over the side of the bio bed to sit on the edge, Thomas Eugene Paris grinned like a child in an old fashioned sweet shop. He wanted to yell and pump his fist in the air, signalling his victory. Even winding up in sickbay, yet again, couldn't diminish his euphoria.

"I'm back," he couldn't keep the expression of utter exultation from his face.

Rolling her baby blue's Janeway listened while her chief pilot recalled his experience. The scientist in her was fascinated and couldn't wait to analyse Cochrane's data. The Captain knew what this would mean in terms of shortening their journey home if they could get the technology to drop out of trans warp at designated coordinates. Which begged the question, "how did you get back to Voyager?"

Before the pilot could answer, the door to sick bay opened and B'Elanna rushed in. "Tom!" She smiled, heading directly over to the bio bed in the surgical alcove. If Lt. Paris didn't know better, he bet his new and hard won reputation B'Elanna Torres was actually glad to see him. Jumping off the table, he managed to attach his hands to her elbows. Paris knew hugging B'Elanna was taking your life in your hands, especially in the presence of the Captain and EMH. Strangely, she didn't pull away and deck him for merely touching her, but allowed the contact as her brown eyes drank him in.

He looks fine! Harry com'ed me to say his life signs were weak and he was transported directly to sickbay. I had to make sure for myself. We've become close friends since sharing that experience in the Vidiian mine.

"I'm fine," Tom reassured.

His smile wide, Tom directed it entirely towards the tiny engineer. Locking their gazes, he felt connected to B'Elanna in more than a physical sense. Strangely, Paris sensed her thoughts as his own. Concentrating, he tried to open his mind to the possibilities beyond his capabilities. There seemed to be something on the very edge of his perception, waiting to be discovered.

You brought the shuttle back without a scratch. The on-board sensors confirm that you reached warp ten. The words sounded almost like B'Elanna but Tom was certain she hadn't opened her mouth.

"We made warp 10," Tom answered the unspoken comment, tightening his grip on her elbows and sharing the glory of their achievement. The physical contact only enhanced the feeling of coherence. If her expression was anything to go by, B'Elanna appeared as confused as he felt with the sudden and unexpected bond between them. He wondered if she also perceived his thoughts, as he had hers.

They both looked around to gauge the Doctor and Captain's reaction. The EMH appeared his usual stony faced self. I want to know how you got back to us, Mr. Paris, Janeway sounded bemused and impatient, watching the interaction between her lieutenants with indulgence.

Turning his head to the Captain, Tom noticed the expression she turned on him, one of apprehension as she picked up on the sudden change in atmosphere. Sighing, Tom wondered if Janeway ever stopped thinking about getting her crew home to the Alpha quadrant. At the same time he saw both the Doctor and B'Elanna within his line of sight, which was impossible as the EMH was standing behind him.

This experience mirrored the few moments he'd spent at warp 10 and unnerved the lieutenant completely. Tom realised he was watching himself while still participating in the scene before him. B'Elanna's worry emanated off her as his legs unexpectedly threatened to give way. She pushed him backwards, forcing Tom to take a step towards the bio bed. Something in him refused to let go of the physical contact while his attention remained focused on the Captain.

"I saw that you were looking for me," Tom declared, shaking his head to clear the dull ache which had started in the back of his skull. He felt the table behind him and B'Elanna's insistent need to get him to lie down. "So I took the new engines offline and ended up back where I started. But, oh, it's starting to slip away. It all was so vivid, and now…"

That's when the ache turned into a lancing pain and Tom was forced to place a hand on the back of his head. It didn't relieve the sudden headache. Yet he perceived the three individuals in the room and felt their anxiety directed exclusively toward him. Before he knew what happened, B'Elanna used her Klingon strength to force him to lie down. Her expression imploring the doctor, the EMH retrieved his medical equipment and quickly reexamined the pilot.

"Captain, his serotonin levels have risen significantly since my last scan," the Doctor stated. Going into lecture mode, he connected his patient to the surgical bio bed's monitors. "Serotonin is an important neurotransmitter, regulating mood, social behaviour, appetite, digestion, sleep, memory, and sexual desire and function. The degree of symptoms can range from mild to severe as the levels increase. Initially they include high body temperature, agitation, increased reflexes, tremor, sweating, dilated pupils, and diarrhoea. In the worst case scenario patients can experience seizures, irregular heart rhythms, unconsciousness and ultimately death."

"It's just a sudden headache," Tom whined, closing his eyes but still able to see the three people surrounding his bed. "You don't need to look at me like that! I'm fine. Just give me a few hours to sleep and it will all go away."

"Doctor," the Captain sounded uneasy.

Closing the arch over his patient with an exasperated sigh, he glared at B'Elanna. She returned his scowl with a determined look of her own, daring him to remove her. Either way, Tom wasn't about to lose physical contact with the only person able to give him a little comfort.

Fiddling with the controls, the doctor muttered, "There's an overproduction of neurotransmitters in the pineal gland. Transporting the serotonin directly out of Lt. Paris' brain is impossible."

"What are you saying?" Demanded B'Elanna, not liking the doctor's tone.

"There is nothing I can do at this time," he allowed his eyebrow to rise. "I'm going to keep Lt. Paris for observation. I've noted an increase temperature and pupil dilation caused by the rising serotonin level. Until those symptoms dissipate, I'll keep a close eye on our patient. He does seem to have stabilised for the moment, albeit with more symptoms than on admission to sickbay."

"Let me know if the situation changes, Doctor," Janeway ordered. Turning to her engineer, she asked, "Lt. Torres, how quickly can we analyse those logs? I can't help thinking they might give us a clue as to why this has happened."

"Captain," Tom called from the bed in a tone filled with agitation. Even though he'd been forced to lie down, he'd managed to keep one hand in contact with the engineer and his mind perceiving the others in the room. The feeling of omnipotence hadn't dissipated. If anything, it was increasing beyond his immediate surroundings. "I'd really like B'Elanna to stay," he requested hopefully.

"Doctor?" Questioned the Captain. It seemed they were working their way through the list of minor complications rather rapidly.

"I don't see any reason why Lt. Paris can't have visitors," he huffed, watching the interaction occurring in his surgical bay and the monitor very carefully. "Lt. Torres does see to have a calming effect on our patient. At this point, I'd say she's the best medicine we have."

Kathryn Janeway understood the message, as did B'Elanna, if her sharply drawn in breath was any indication. "Lieutenant?"

"Harry can down load the data logs from the shuttle and start the diagnostics," she responded easily. Prying Tom's fingers from just below her elbow in a quick movement, B'Elanna attempted to locate a stool. His increased reflexes astounded her as he once again latched onto her wrist. "Take my hand, Paris, it's a lot more comfortable if I'm going to be sitting here for hours on end with nothing to do but keep you company."

Rolling his eyes, the Doctor located a chair and brought it over.

"Anything else, Lieutenant?" Janeway allowed her eyebrow to rise. The gesture wasn't lost on the Doctor who also ticked off yet another symptom of increased serotonin levels.

"I've given Lt. Carey the engineering assignments for today and tomorrow," B'Elanna stated easily. She had grown into her position as Chief Engineer with the help of her assistant. "Unless there's an emergency, I was intending to go over the logs from the trans warp tests with Harry and Tom. Once the datas analysed, we can only hope to understand how to drop out of warp at a designated point. Then we can consider incorporating the technology into Voyager's engines after more test flights."

"If there's anything you need," Janeway offered, still reluctant to leave. Over the last few months, she had noticed the increasing friendship between Lt. Paris, Lt. Torres and Ensign Kim. They'd often ate meals together, spent off duty hours on the holodeck, formed one of her best away teams and used their unique skills to make improvements on Voyager.

Two's company, three's a crowd.

Where did that thought come from, Janeway wondered.

She could have sworn it was one of Tom's offhanded comments in that brash tone he employed so well. Watching her young officers, Janeway noted B'Elanna's eyes arrow to the man who appeared to be sleeping on the bed. His fingers continued to twitch in her grasp. Each attempt to remove her digits caused Tom's grip to become firmer. With an audible sigh, the engineer glared, as if that would be enough to release her trapped hand.

"I'll be in my office if you need me Lt. Torres," the Doctor frowned, trying and failing to read the Captain's rapid expressions. He was troubled, both by his patient's symptoms and Lt. Torres seemingly docile behaviour.

The moment Janeway and the EMH disappeared Tom opened his eyes. He felt the Captain's, well, aura for lack of a better word, get fainter as they approached the extremities of his perception. The twinkle of suppressed delight was followed with a broad smile.

Alone at last.

"Did you say something, Tom," B'Elanna asked, her gaze returning to Paris. For a few minutes, she had been considering how long it would take for him to fall into a deep sleep, so she could escape. The engineer was itching to get to those logs.

"I love you," Paris avowed, wearing that asinine grin he used when teasing or trying to impress. Even the tone was playful.

Known for flirting with all the women onboard, married, taken or single, B'Elanna snorted mockingly. He'd never actually turned his attentions on her or asked her out on a date. Then again, would I have given him the time of day, if Tom weren't Harry's friend?

I respect you too much to flirt.

"Are we talking enigmatically?" She retorted in a condescending tone, pondering the strange mental conversation. Must be my subconscious playing the devils' advocate.

Or the truth you don't want to acknowledge.

"Enigmatically, emotionally, physically," Tom responded verbally, his blue eyes trapping B'Elanna's brown with an intense gaze. No matter how she tried, Torres couldn't read his intention. "You pick," he whispered, bringing her hand to his lips.

"You're a Pig, Paris," B'Elanna responded, pulling their combined hand away before he could lay a kiss on her skin. Yet there was something akin to hurt in the back of his intense stare.

"So you keep telling me, Torres," Tom sighed. Turning his attention to the smaller hand encompassed within in his, Paris concentrated on the connection he felt with B'Elanna. It had been forged a year ago, in the Vidiian mine. Slowly, he'd managed to get her to trust him enough to work on the transwarp engine.

Close your eyes and sleep.

Only if you lay down with me.

Shocked, B'Elanna tried to convince herself the words were just a figment of her imagination. Yet those clear, blue eyes continued to stare at her, as if reading her most inner thoughts. Swallowing hard, Torres found herself trapped by Tom's intensity. He seemed to surround and encompasses her all at once.

Hesitantly. How are you doing this, Tom?

Doing what?

Telepathy!

I…I don't know. I just feel this connection to you.

Me too.

Well that's a first.

Close your eyes and try and get some sleep. It might help get rid of your headache.

How do you know I still have my headache?

B'Elanna didn't have an answer for that question, except she just knew the ache had increased to the point Tom couldn't stand the pain anymore. Once again, he'd used humour to hide his suffering. With that thought, Torres began to understand the walls he erected to keep people out because of the mental link they shared. Whatever was occurring between then had forced those emotional barriers to crumble. Thomas Eugene Paris was more sensitive than most gave him credit for. She felt his self-loathing and hurt burred beneath is usually jovial demeanour.

Softly. Go to sleep, Tom.

I'm not tired.

Liar. I can feel your exhaustion. Beside's, I'll be here when you wake up.

Promise.

Rolling eyes. Yes! Now close your eyes.

Only if you join me.

Not a chance.

Spoil sport.

I'm not going to tell you again, Lt. Paris. Frustrated sigh. Sleep.

Cheekily. Yes, Ma'am.

"I see our patient has stabilised," the EMH commented. He'd stood at the door to his office and watched the interaction. It intrigued him enough to approach and take another set of readings.

"Tom's headache hasn't improved," B'Elanna stated acidly.

I'm fine.

Lier.

"I'll give him something," the doctor said, wondering how Lt. Torres knew. Lt. Paris' vital signs indicated increasing discomfort, even though he was laying completely still and seemingly at comfortable. The EMH began to theorise, not finding any possible conclusions to match the data.

"Thanks, Doc," Tom managed.

"Well, I'll leave you two alone," he huffed. "Kes is due to start her shift in half an hour. I'll have her continue to monitor you, Lieutenant."