Title: Boundaries
Summary: Coda to "Darkling." Slightly AU. Proto-P/T.
Rating: T
"Love shows itself more in adversity than in prosperity; as light does, which shines most where the place is darkness."
–Leonardo da Vinci
It was dinnertime in the Mess Hall, and the special of the day was Talaxian spice stew over leola rice pilaf.
B'Elanna took another sip of water. The stew wasn't spicy, exactly, but the flavor was quite pungent in an unpleasant way. Unfortunately, anything with leola root tended to taste that way.
She looked up as Tom sat down across from her.
He stared at his plate for a moment then sighed.
"This makes me wish we were back at that lodge on the Mikhal Travelers' outpost. That was the best meal I've had in a long time," he said wistfully. "They sure know how to cook a pot roast. Much better than Neelix's cooking."
He sent her a sidelong glance. "You should try it next time we're there. You could use some more meat in your diet."
She flushed. His expression was innocent, but the merry twinkle in his eye was unmistakable.
They'd had lunch together a few days ago at the lodge. He was the reason she'd been distracted and had forgotten all about the Doctor's injunctions against ingesting the foliage.
"As I recall, all you had was salad," Tom remarked.
"I like salad," she countered, a little defensively. It had looked so fresh and appetizing, and they didn't get such fresh produce very often. At least, not any that she actually enjoyed eating.
"Maybe we can go back for one last meal before we leave orbit."
She smiled. "Maybe."
"I wish we could stay here longer. I'd love to try out one of their ships."
"Did you get to see any on your tour?"
"Yeah. They're really small. Smaller than a Class Two shuttle. They only have enough room for a pilot and a navigator. But their size makes them fast and maneuverable. Perfect for exploring."
"I doubt Harry would enjoy that," she chuckled. "He already thinks our shuttles are too small."
"Harry?" he repeated, looking puzzled.
"Your navigator," she clarified.
"Oh. I wasn't thinking of Harry at all," Tom said, his voice laced with amusement. "What I had in mind was more of a… romantic getaway."
The way he was looking at her left no doubt whom he wanted to accompany him.
"Oh," she said, hoping she didn't sound too breathless. It did sound tempting. Just the two of them on an adventure, free to go wherever they wanted. Do whatever they wanted.
"I don't think there'll be time. We're supposed to head out tomorrow to that asteroid belt that's rich in vorilium." She couldn't quite keep the excitement out of her voice. They'd been short on vorilium for some time.
He laughed. "I guess that's much more exciting than exploring the Sylleran Rift," he teased.
"We could have lunch at the outpost again before we leave. And this time I'll get the enzyme injection beforehand so I can eat all the salad I want."
She couldn't help but grimace at the thought of having to go back to the Doctor, and Tom noticed.
"I thought Doc was trying to improve his bedside manner," he said lightly. "Wasn't he working on some personality enhancement project?"
"Yeah. That's what caused him to malfunction in the first place. I noticed something was wrong right away when he was treating me for the allergic reaction I had to the salad."
"What did he do?"
"He asked me if I had heartburn," she remembered. "Then he said, 'There's nothing like a heart that burns' and told me that my pulse was lovely."
"How poetic."
"Yeah. And then he felt my stomach and asked, 'Does that feel good?'"
Tom looked perturbed. "Really?"
"Then he put his hand on my knee."
"Sounds kind of creepy."
"It was. But I told him to back off, and he did."
"Why was he acting that way?"
"He merged unstable character elements into his program. Eventually they formed an alternate personality. That's why he attacked Zahir and abducted Kes."
"I see. But you fixed his program, right?"
She sighed. "I decompiled the behavioral subroutines that created the alternate personality, but I still have to figure out what he did to his historical figures holoprogram. Kes said he caused a lot of damage."
"Do you want any help?"
She hesitated, unsure if being alone with him on the holodeck was a good idea. But she had to admit that she was a little worried about what she might find on the holodeck and had been putting it off.
"All right," she said at last. "Thanks. We can go right after dinner if you have time."
"Sure."
To her surprise, she felt incredibly relieved she wouldn't have to go by herself.
Then again, maybe it wasn't all that surprising. She'd felt so jumpy lately. It had been a rough couple of weeks. First Vorik had physically and mentally assaulted her, inadvertently inflicting the pon farr on her. Then a plasma conduit had exploded in her face in Engineering, severely injuring her. Shortly after that, Chakotay had phasered her at point-blank range.
And now this.
She'd healed physically but the emotional scars ran much deeper. Her sense of safety was tenuous at best, and she felt like she had to be on guard at all times because she'd been blindsided repeatedly recently.
What bothered her the most was that there wasn't anything she could have done differently to prevent any of those incidents.
Or was there?
After Vorik had attacked her, her mind had started re-playing the hundreds of interactions she'd had with him over the past two and a half years.
She couldn't help wondering if she had behaved in ways that had led him on.
Perhaps she shouldn't have accepted his invitation to sit at the lakeside table he'd reserved during the luau.
Normally she wouldn't have, but she'd felt the sudden need to escape. She'd felt unsettled with Tom standing that close to her, looking so tempting.
In the corridor, she'd felt warm all over when Tom had looked her over appreciatively and complimented her on her appearance. To be honest, she'd wanted to attract his attention. It hadn't occurred to her that other men might be looking at her the same way. She'd only been thinking of Tom.
But now she was filled with self-doubt.
Was my dress too revealing? Too short? Was I showing too much skin?
Did I bring this on myself somehow?
Logically she knew it wasn't her fault, but she just couldn't stop ruminating about it.
"B'Elanna? Are you all right?"
She looked up from her plate, suddenly realizing that Tom was looking at her with concern.
"I'm okay. Just thinking about how to improve the safety protocols so the Doctor won't malfunction like that again," she lied. "He could have killed someone."
"Yeah. It's scary to think about. Especially now that he has the mobile emitter and can go anywhere he wants to. If we hadn't managed to transport him and Kes in time, Kes might not have survived the fall."
This time the problem had been fairly easy to repair, but what if he irreparably damaged his program next time?
There were many reasons why the original EMH program lacked autonomous control. His program was so complex that at times even she and Harry, who had specialized technical expertise, found it challenging to keep him running properly.
But the Doctor was arrogant enough to think he could manage it, even when he had no idea what he was doing and didn't understand the risks.
It reminded her of that old Klingon saying: "The doctor who operates on himself has a petaQ for a patient."
Most people recognized the limitations of their own competence, but not the Doctor.
It would be safer if he weren't allowed to alter his own program without approval, but she knew there was no point in arguing for that. Kes had advocated for the Doctor's autonomy from the beginning, and Captain Janeway wasn't likely to limit his freedom even after all that had happened.
Even though the Doctor had abducted Kes and hurled them over a cliff, Kes had been very understanding and forgiven him immediately. She had chosen to interpret his actions as trying to protect her from making the wrong decisions because he cared about her.
Sometimes B'Elanna envied her equanimity.
Unlike Kes, she couldn't get over her feelings quite that easily.
She didn't want to forgive. She wanted to rage and fight and scream at the injustice of it all. She'd been assaulted while ill and vulnerable in Sickbay, and it could have been easily prevented. She wanted to make sure it would never happen again.
She felt entitled to her anger.
But no one else seemed to think that.
They were all pressuring her to get over it and just move on.
Just like with Vorik.
Vorik had apologized to her, and she'd had no choice but to accept his apology. She still had to work with him in Engineering. Yet there was no guarantee that it wouldn't happen again. Pon farr happened every seven years, after all.
At least she'd had the satisfaction of breaking Vorik's jaw and beating him until he was unconscious.
But she didn't have that option with the Doctor.
She felt violated yet again.
And there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.
"Are you sure you're okay, B'Elanna?" Tom asked again.
Her inner turmoil must have shown on her face.
She wanted to tell him everything, but she just couldn't right now. Not here in the Mess Hall in the middle of the dinner rush.
"I'm okay," she repeated. "Come on, let's go to the holodeck and get this over with."
"A wave is never found alone, but is mingled with the other waves."
"All our knowledge has its origin in our perceptions."
–Leonardo da Vinci
"So who's in Doc's holoprogram?" Tom asked as they took the turbolift to Deck Six.
"I can't remember them all, but they include Leonardo da Vinci, Gandhi, Marie Curie and T'Pau."
"Quite a meeting of the minds."
"Yeah. Oh, and Captain Janeway expressed interest in meeting da Vinci. After we fix him," she added. "He's always intrigued her."
"I've always wanted to meet him too," he replied.
"Well, now's your chance."
They stopped just outside the holodeck.
"Computer, run Tropical Resort Simulation Three. Populate with historical figures from EMH Program 4C," B'Elanna instructed. The computer beeped affirmative in response.
The holodeck doors slid open, and they went inside. Usually the resort was bustling with activity, music and people, but at the moment it was eerily quiet.
Beside her, Tom stopped in his tracks and stared, open-mouthed.
She'd braced herself for what they might find, but she wasn't quite prepared for the sight of mutilated holograms everywhere.
In one corner, Gandhi stood frozen in place, his head rapidly spinning out of control.
"Whoa. Looks like something out of 'The Exorcist,'" Tom commented.
"The what?"
"'The Exorcist.' It's a horror movie from –"
"The twentieth century," she finished for him.
"It's about a girl who's possessed by a demon," he told her enthusiastically. "Two priests try to expel it. That's what 'exorcism' means. There's a famous head-spinning scene in it."
B'Elanna grimaced, unable to fathom why he was so fascinated by such gruesome entertainment.
"Maybe Doc's been watching horror movies in his spare time," he joked.
She could only shake her head.
They moved on to Socrates. He was lying on the ground, and only the top half of him remained. The most disturbing part was that he was still moving. His eyes were closed, but he appeared to be breathing.
"What happened to the rest of him?"
"This gives new meaning to, 'Understanding a question is half an answer,'" Tom chortled.
She glowered at him.
"It's one of Socrates' famous quotes," he protested.
She rolled her eyes, but she wasn't all that surprised. Making jokes was how he coped. And it did help relieve the tension sometimes.
If the historical characters weren't holograms, the scene before them would have been truly horrifying. At least Socrates was only a hollow shell.
"Is that Lord Byron?" Tom asked, pointing to the hologram lying motionless on the bar.
"Yes," she confirmed.
"'She walks in beauty, like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies. And all that's best of dark and bright, meet in her aspect and her eyes,'" Tom quoted.
B'Elanna regarded him suspiciously for a moment.
"That's the only thing I remember learning in school that Byron wrote," he explained sheepishly.
His expression grew more introspective. "It reminds me of you."
She flushed. It was quite possibly the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to her. Her heart started beating faster.
He can't be serious.
But he'd sounded completely sincere.
Flustered, she went over to access the control panel on the far wall to check for any damage or anomalous readings.
Meanwhile, Tom made his way to the other side of the courtyard to look for more holograms.
"There are a few more holograms over here," he called out. "Looks like da Vinci and Madame Curie and a few I don't recognize. They're all malfunctioning."
He didn't provide any more details, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know.
After a few minutes, Tom returned to her side, looking a little shaken.
"You know, I saw Doc in the turbolift that night," he said. "It must have been just before he came in here. He was acting strangely. I should have known something was going on."
She shook her head. "You couldn't have known he was capable of all this."
"Ensign Brooks seemed uncomfortable with him too," he continued. "She didn't say anything then, but later she told me he had been following her a little too closely in the corridor and the turbolift. It creeped her out."
B'Elanna felt a stab of irrational jealousy.
"I'm surprised you even noticed the Doctor at all, if Ensign Brooks was there," she blurted out before she could stop herself.
"What? I didn't even talk to her in the turbolift," Tom said defensively. "I was only talking to the Doctor then. I only asked Brooks about it later when I was trying to figure out what was going on with him."
She had no right to feel jealous. And yet she couldn't help but feel secretly pleased that he wanted her to know he hadn't been flirting at all.
"How was he acting in the turbolift?" she asked.
"He barely said a word to me. He didn't even bother to say 'Hi.' At first I thought maybe I'd offended him somehow. But it's not his style to hold back. He'd tell he if he felt I'd wronged him somehow. With righteous indignation."
B'Elanna snickered. That accurately described the Doctor, all right.
"He attacked you that night too, didn't he." It wasn't a question.
His eyes were soft, and his voice was gentle and full of compassion.
She nodded.
"What happened?"
She hesitated. She'd tried so hard to block it all out because she became too agitated every time she thought about it.
But this was Tom, who'd proved beyond a doubt that he was her friend first and foremost. He was on her side. He would understand.
B'Elanna took a deep breath, trying to stay detached and recount it factually. "The Doctor injected me with cateline to simulate anaphylactic shock. He told the captain and Tuvok that I was having a delayed allergic reaction to the salad I ate. Then he paralyzed me from the waist down with an intraspinal inhibitor. I tried to fight him, but he injected me again and immobilized me completely."
She shuddered, remembering the way he had touched her. His hand trailing along her thigh. His finger on her face. It had made her skin crawl.
He'd done it to intimidate her. To dominate her.
And she'd had flashbacks of Vorik grabbing her face.
Her whole body tensed up at the memory, and she could feel her fingers clenching involuntarily into tight fists.
She tried to continue, but the words got stuck in her throat. She couldn't say any of them out loud.
It was too fresh, too raw. And as always, she was afraid of letting her anger out. Because she might not be able to stop once it started.
The body sensations were so uncomfortable that she could feel herself going numb.
She hated feeling so defenseless.
Safety was only an illusion. Even her superior physical strength hadn't been enough to protect her from either attack.
Tom seemed to sense her rising distress.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, B'Elanna."
His voice was low and soothing, and his calm presence helped anchor her.
She willed herself to relax her hands and take a deep, steadying breath before continuing.
"It's okay. There's not much more to tell."
"What did he do after that?"
"He threatened to torture me."
Oddly enough, that hadn't bothered her as much. She could withstand much higher levels of pain than the average human because she was half-Klingon. Klingons weren't afraid of pain the way humans were.
"Fortunately, by that time his subroutines had already started to degrade. When I still wouldn't help him, he knocked me out and went to the holodeck. He thought the holograms could help stabilize his program because they were his progenitors."
Tom looked very disturbed.
"That's awful, B'Elanna. I am so sorry he did that to you."
She tried to brush it off. "It could have been worse, I suppose."
"It shouldn't have happened. Doesn't his program have some kind of fail-safe?"
"It used to, but it doesn't anymore. You know how he is. He insists on having as much autonomy as possible. And Captain Janeway and Kes seem to agree with him," she said tightly.
"That doesn't give him the right to infringe on other people's rights by assaulting them."
B'Elanna agreed with that wholeheartedly. Tom seemed to think the Doctor's actions were deplorable, just as she did, and that made her feel a little better.
"Self-improvement is an admirable goal, but Doc oversimplifies everything," Tom said. "Remember when he gave himself the Levodian flu?"
She nodded.
"He thought he could prove that being ill was no big deal, but he ended up being completely incapacitated. Then he panicked when it didn't end after 29 hours like it was supposed to," she recalled. "And demanded that Captain Janeway send someone to fix his program immediately."
"Exactly. He's so impatient. He still hasn't figured out he can't just rush his personal development by pushing a few buttons and adding some new subroutines."
There were no shortcuts. Real growth took time, hard work and investing in relationships. And often a great deal of mistakes, suffering and soul searching as well.
"Does he know what he did to you?" he asked.
"No. He knows I was injured, but I didn't tell him all the details."
"Why not?"
"What's the point? He doesn't remember doing any of it. It wasn't him. It was an alternate personality, and it's gone now. It'll only make him feel worse."
Tom shook his head.
"He needs to take responsibility for his actions, just like the rest of us. How can he make amends if he doesn't know exactly what he did?"
He had a good point, she had to acknowledge.
"It's good for him to develop a conscience. If he does feel guilty about attacking you, Kes and Zahir, maybe next time he'll think twice before modifying his program without consulting anyone about what might happen."
Maybe Tom was right.
The Doctor had seemed troubled about his alter ego's behavior and wanted to repair the relationships he'd inadvertently damaged. He was genuinely trying to develop empathy for others and would mostly likely be open to hearing her feedback.
"Wouldn't you want to know, if you did something that you couldn't remember and needed to apologize for?"
B'Elanna stiffened. Now they were venturing into some very dangerous territory.
Was he obliquely referring to Sakari?
"Not that you do," he added hastily upon seeing her bristle.
Technically, she had assaulted him. He'd gotten a little too close, put his hands on her shoulders, and she'd lost control and bitten him.
Later, she'd pounced on him and tried to seduce him. She'd kissed him. She couldn't remember all the details clearly, but she knew that much.
Suddenly she felt very uneasy.
Did Tom expect her to apologize for all that?
But he'd kissed her back.
And he hadn't been under the influence of a neurochemical imbalance.
Shouldn't he apologize to her?
She didn't want him to apologize, though. She'd liked kissing him. A lot.
No, he didn't want an apology from her either, she decided.
What he wanted was for it to be real.
"I would want to know," she said at last. "I'll think about it some more. Maybe I'll talk to the Doctor about it next time I run his weekly diagnostic."
Tom smiled encouragingly at her, and suddenly she felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for his friendship.
For weeks, she'd been feeling isolated and increasingly unable to cope.
But Tom had reached out to her. He'd offered to accompany her and help repair the holograms even though he didn't have to, giving them the opportunity to talk privately in a location that was comfortable and familiar but not too intimate.
He hadn't pressured her to confide in him. Instead, he'd let her know that he'd been worried about her and that he was open to listening anytime she wanted to talk.
He was always there for her.
It had been so difficult to disclose to him what the Doctor had done to her and how it was still bothering her, but she was glad that she had.
With him, she'd been able to begin sharing her experiences without becoming completely overwhelmed.
And by recognizing and acknowledging her pain, he had made her feel so much better.
She could still feel the horror of it, but at least it felt more manageable now and not so frightening.
One of the main reasons she hadn't told the Doctor was because she had been trying to avoid even thinking about what had happened. It made her so upset and angry, and she didn't want to lose control. Especially not when so many people thought she should be over it already.
But Tom didn't think her anger was unreasonable or that she was overreacting.
Knowing that, she felt more empowered, more equipped to face these challenges. She could always express her feelings with him. And she now felt more confident that she could talk about it again without shutting down or getting too angry.
There would be residual effects. There would be other triggers. But the feelings of discomfort would gradually subside, and it would get easier over time. As long as she accepted and dealt with those feelings as they came up, she would recover.
Feeling more optimistic than she had in a long time, she was able to turn her attention back to repairing the program.
"I've downloaded all the program logs for further review. I'm going to re-set the holograms now."
He nodded.
In a flash, Gandhi and Lord Byron re-appeared before them, back to normal.
Socrates and T'Pau had also re-materialized, seated at a table together playing kal-toh.
Upon seeing that he had an audience, Lord Byron brightened. He cleared his throat, then began to recite one of his poems.
"On Parting," he began.
The kiss, dear maid! thy lip has left
Shall never part from mine,
Till happier hours restore the gift
Untainted back to thine.
Thy parting glance, which fondly beams,
An equal love may see:
The tear that from thine eyelid streams
Can weep no change in me.
I ask no pledge to make me blest
In gazing when alone;
Nor one memorial for a breast,
Whose thoughts are all thine own.
Nor need I write to tell the tale
My pen were doubly weak:
Oh! what can idle words avail,
Unless the heart could speak?
By day or night, in weal or woe,
That heart, no longer free,
Must bear the love it cannot show,
And silent ache for thee.
Tom looked just as stunned as she did. Surely Lord Byron's choice of poem had been purely coincidental.
Gandhi clicked his tongue critically, and Lord Byron regarded him quizzically.
"Men and women should refrain from enjoying each other. By that I mean to say, even their mutual glances must be free of all suggestion of carnality," Gandhi intoned.
"Free of passion? One might just as well be free of humanity," Lord Byron countered. "One can pursue one's creative urges, spiritual urges and physical urges. All have a place in a well lived life."
Gandhi shook his head. "Passion is meant for procreation," he said emphatically. "Anything further is contrary to divine intention."
Lord Byron snorted derisively. "Really? It is said the angels themselves take pleasure in their bodies of light."
"And you should take a cold bath," Gandhi returned caustically. "In such cases, it is the finest preventative."
Tom looked amused by their debate. "No wonder Doc got so mixed up," he commented.
B'Elanna couldn't laugh it off quite so easily. It sounded like the constant internal struggle she was used to. In the past she'd always attributed it to being half-Klingon and half-human, but lately she'd started thinking it wasn't quite that simple.
Her reasons were different from Gandhi's, but the result was the same. She'd lived celibate for so long – like a Tabran monk, as Tom had so tactlessly pointed out – because she was afraid of getting hurt.
But no matter how she tried to keep her passions in check, she couldn't stop herself from wanting Tom.
She felt compelled to be near him. To feel him. She was exceedingly aware that she touched him far more than she touched anyone else, and that she let him touch her with far more familiarity than she allowed anyone else to do.
They touched each other all the time for comfort, for reassurance, for mutual connection. That wasn't too unusual for Tom. His boundaries were more fluid than hers. But she tended to be reserved, even with those closest to her.
Was she sending him mixed signals?
Probably. Her own feelings were so mixed up.
She wanted to be with him, but she wasn't quite ready to be that vulnerable yet.
Reviewing the tricorder readings again, she said, "Gandhi, Lord Bryon, T'Pau and Socrates all appear to be functioning normally."
Several other holograms ambled by, and she scanned them. "They're all okay, too."
"That just leaves Leonardo da Vinci and Madame Curie, then."
"Why don't you check on da Vinci," she suggested. "And I'll look for Marie Curie."
He nodded.
After a few minutes, she successfully located Marie Curie and scanned her with the tricorder. She checked the readings but didn't find anything out of the ordinary.
Madame Curie eyed her for a moment, then smiled enigmatically.
"Fate has made you deeply attached to each other, and you cannot endure the idea of separating," she said.
"What?" B'Elanna exclaimed, taken aback.
"You and your young man," Madame Curie replied, inclining her head in Tom's direction.
"I don't know what you're talking about," B'Elanna retorted, a touch belligerently.
The hologram regarded her calmly. "Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood."
Rattled, B'Elanna slowly backed away.
At that moment, Tom returned, looking thoughtful.
"Da Vinci seems okay. He's presentable enough to meet the captain now," he proclaimed. "How's Madame Curie?"
"Fine," she said shortly.
"That's everyone, then."
They sat down at a table to for a well-deserved break, pondering the holograms milling around them.
They looked so placid and benign, but she felt a little unnerved as she considered the malevolence they were capable of.
The Doctor and all these holograms were composed of photons. Projections of light itself. Yet in each one, darkness lurked. Fear, hatred, jealousy. The same was true of the carbon-based lifeforms who'd created them and who'd inspired them.
She'd struggled with the darkness in her own life, as had Tom. Only their dark threads couldn't be isolated and decompiled.
If only it were that easy.
Tom glanced over to where Marie Curie and Leonardo da Vinci were now deep in conversation.
From the way they were looking at them with knowing smiles, they were talking about her and Tom.
"What did da Vinci say to you?" she asked, curious as to what could have made him so contemplative.
Tom hesitated for a moment. "'Life without love is not a life at all,'" he said softly. "And then he said, 'The most beautiful words of love are told in silence for a look.'"
She couldn't believe it. Were all these holograms contriving to throw them together?
"What did Madame Curie have to say?" he wanted to know.
B'Elanna took a deep breath. "She told me, 'Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood.'"
She couldn't bring herself to tell him the rest. It made her feel too exposed.
They regarded each other uneasily, feeling like Madame Curie and Leonardo da Vinci had stared deep down into their souls, then piercingly elucidated what they'd most needed to hear.
They're only holograms. What do they know?
Then again, they were holograms of highly observant people with astute, incisive minds.
Nearby, Lord Byron wandered in their direction, preparing to recite again. He paused for dramatic effect, ensuring that their eyes were on him before starting to speak.
"It Is the Hour," he said solemnly.
It is the hour when from boughs
The nightingale's high note is heard;
It is the hour – when lover's vows
Seems sweet in every whisper'd word;
And gentle winds and waters near,
Make music to the lonely ear.
Each flower the dews have lightly wet,
And in the sky the stars are met,
And on the wave is deeper blue,
And on the leaf a browner hue,
And in the Heaven that clear obscure
So softly dark, and darkly pure,
That follows the decline of day
As twilight melts beneath the moon away.
Fittingly, the sun was just starting to sink down into the horizon, casting a soft glow all around them. A warm breeze gusted through the resort, causing waves to ripple on the lake. The scent of exotic flowers permeated the air, and tropical birds were warbling melodically.
It reminded her of the luau not so long ago, which had started at dusk and continued on through the evening.
If she could do it all over again, she'd choose to spend it with Tom.
He was looking at her longingly, and she was sure the longing was mirrored in her own eyes.
His gaze dropped to her mouth, as if he knew exactly what it would feel like to press his lips to hers. And he did know, she realized. He remembered everything about Sakari with perfect clarity. Where it was only hazy and jumbled up for her.
Suddenly, she wanted him to kiss her.
But she knew he wouldn't. Since Sakari, he'd been more solicitous. She'd given him hope that they could be more than just friends, and he was careful not to overstep his bounds.
Every day, she grew more and more certain that he was the only one for her.
She knew he cared deeply for her and that she could trust him. He'd been able to resist even when she'd been throwing herself at him.
It was perverse. Now that she knew just how safe she was with him, she wanted him even more. Her fantasies often featured her being completely irresistible to him. No matter how honorable he was. No matter how determined he was to not take advantage of her. In her imagination, their mutual passion always prevailed over all other considerations.
But in real life, Tom never made unwelcome advances towards her. He was sensitive to her responses and altered his behavior accordingly. He always respected her boundaries.
The irony.
The man she loved was the only one who wouldn't ever touch her inappropriately.
It meant that she'd have to make the first move if she wanted anything more to happen. And that frightened her.
Over the past few months, he'd made it clear that he didn't want a one-night stand. He wanted to have a relationship with her.
But she wasn't quite prepared to make that kind of commitment just yet.
Until she was, she'd have to heed Gandhi's advice and take lots and lots more cold baths.
For now, it was enough just to be here with Tom in the warm glow of the setting sun, listening to Lord Byron recite poetry.
The End!
Author's Endnote: This idea wouldn't let go of me after I watched "Darkling" in its entirety for the first time last year (2018). Previously, I'd only seen a few minutes of it. I decided to follow the chronological Stardate order rather than airdate order because it better suited my purposes.
Chronological Stardate order: Alter Ego, Coda, Blood Fever, Rise, Favorite Son, Before and After, Unity, Darkling, Real Life
Airdate order: Alter Ego, Coda, Blood Fever, Unity, Darkling, Rise, Favorite Son, Before and After, Real Life