Author's Note: There are two sides to every story, and this one is no different. Unexpected Possibilities tells Tom's version of events and Witchcraft tells the Doctor's side. (Witchcraft will post 5/22/12 as a separate story, in case you read this immediately after posting.) They're companion pieces, but can be read in either order.

Brad Harrison, Noah Mannick and the Subu war camp are from Pathways by Jeri Taylor. They're dating in the book, making that the earliest homosexual relationship (that I know of) in an official ST show or novelization. And written by the show's executive producer, no less.

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek: Voyager, the novel Pathways, or the lyrics to Witchcraft.

Well, at least he didn't bring back any leola root. There was already too much of that on the ship's menu to begin with. I looked in dismay at the table full of strange plants in front of me. Neelix had just returned from a foraging mission, and had found more than thirty new plant specimens that he wanted to use in the galley. And as the acting medical assistant on duty, it became my job to catalog each sample's genetic and physical characteristics, as well as look for any medical threats. Although Neelix was trained to avoid poisonous plants, his knowledge used Talaxian physiology as its basis. He'd once caused the two Bolians on board to throw up nonstop for two days with his grandmother's recipe for Exalion Stew. After that incident, the captain had decreed that all foodstuffs be run through sickbay for comparisons against personnel medical files before being given to Neelix.

I entered the data from about half the plants into the medical database, then paused to take a break for a minute before finishing. I didn't mind sickbay duty most of the time, but the routine stuff like this really got to me. I didn't mind working with the Doctor, especially now that he'd developed a decent bedside manner, but for every hour I served in sickbay, I couldn't help but feel it was an hour I should've been at the helm. The work was usually easy enough, and I did like helping people, but it couldn't compare to the excitement of feeling the ship humming beneath me, knowing that it'd do whatever I wanted with the run of my hand across the controls.

When I looked up, I saw that Brad Harrison and Noah Mannick had come in sometime while I was processing the plants. Noah had apparently done something to his ankle and the Doc was attempting to fix it, but Brad kept getting in the way.

I heard the Doctor order Brad to leave sickbay and started toward the group before the situation could get any worse. The damn fruits could wait. Although the Doc's people skills have improved a lot since he was first activated, he can sometimes cause interstellar incidents when it comes to dealing with the worried loved ones of his patients.

I sidled up to Brad before he had a chance to react. I put my arm around his shoulders and gently steered him away, murmuring reassurances in his ear as I moved. He seemed a bit dazed and followed without resistance. Poor kid. Judging by the Doctor's attitude, the injury couldn't be that serious, but that wasn't what was important, not to Brad anyway. The two had just started to get serious about their relationship a few weeks before the Subu incident. The two men had ended up in an alien POW camp, along with a bunch of other crewmen, myself included. The experience wasn't exactly pleasant for any of us, but their relationship had somehow survived the stress. Brad, however, seemed a little worse for wear. He blamed himself for not being able to protect Noah, and had been a bit overprotective ever since.

"Come on Brad, you know the Doc can fix just about anything you can imagine if you let him work." I tried to be as reassuring as possible, saying everything I would want to hear if our situations had been reversed. Gods knew, I understood how the man felt. Every time something happened to Harry, I just wanted to swoop in and shoot anything that tried to get in my way. I'd be damned if I would let anything bad happen to Harry while I had anything to say about it. And the two of us were just friends.

Looking over Brad's shoulder, I saw the Doc signal me. I moved back toward the Doctor, Brad following automatically. I kept talking softly until Brad realized that the Doc had finished and Noah was ready to go. I smiled to myself as both men grinned at each other, obviously relieved. "Good as new," Noah said, smiling up at his partner, and the Doc nodded his agreement.

The two men started out the door, joking about Brad's excessive worry and whispering softly to each other. They turned back at the door. "Thanks, Doctor." It was Noah who spoke, but Brad's eyes clearly expressed his gratitude for my thoughtfulness as well.

The two continued on their way, and I watched them with a smile on my face. Ah, the joys of love. It'd been a while since I felt that way about anyone. B'Elanna was the only one I'd had a real relationship with since we'd all been swept to this quadrant and that had been over for a while. I'd really loved her, but we just didn't seem to understand each other well enough to make it work. After a while of being really good friends who just happened to have sex, we decided to go back to just being friends.

The only person on the ship who really did understand me that well was Harry, and we hadn't discussed that possibility yet. Not that I hadn't thought about it, quite a lot actually, but I need a friend more than I need a lover. For me anyway, friends are much harder to come by. I'd keep trying to get him over Libby, and if that ever succeeded, then I'd worry about the rest of it. While I thought it was a little naive to still be faithful to someone sixty thousand light years away, it was important to Harry. And the man's my best friend. If anything ever happened between us, I wanted the chance to love him, not corrupt him.

"Thank you, Mr. Paris, for your timely assistance," the Doc said as he turned back toward sickbay. I tried to get my mind back on my work, focusing all my attention on the Doctor. Gods, now I was daydreaming about Harry while on duty? "With Mr. Harrison," the Doctor prompted.

And I understood. The Doctor was thanking me for distracting Brad while he worked. I laughed inwardly. I was just trying to reassure Brad, not save the Doc. But the Doc wasn't programmed to understand that any more than he was programmed to deal with Brad. Some things you just had to be human to understand.

Wait a minute. I could swear the Doctor was blushing. Very faintly, but definitely blushing. But he was a hologram. Wasn't capable of blushing to express embarrassment, or anything else for that matter. Was he? Of course, I knew the Doc had added sexual subroutines into his program, so who knew what he was capable of expressing now. Hmm… what exactly would make a hologram blush?

"Are you feeling alright, Doc? I could've sworn you just…."

But the Doctor cut me off before I could continue. I stared at him, intensely concentrating on every nuance of his reaction. "I assure you, Mr. Paris, my program is functioning properly." Again the telling blush. And his eyes seemed to hold a note of desperation, not able to meet my questioning gaze. This was clearly denial. I was an expert on that and knew it when I saw it. But what would a hologram be in denial about?

"I have experienced a few minor errors in my program recently and haven't had the time to properly analyze them yet. I assure you, it is not significant enough to affect my medical abilities. I will engage my internal system analysis as soon as possible and this should correct the errors easily." The Doc was hedging the issue, clear as day. "If this does not repair the problem, I will contact Ms. Torres immediately. I assure you, Mr. Paris, I am fine."

I doubt that, but decided to let it slide for the moment. Maybe it really was just a simple program error. I'd let the Doc try to deal with it on his own. Whatever it was, I know from experience that no man in denial should be forced to face his demons until he was ready for them. No way I was going to do that to a friend, hologram or not, and that's what the Doc had become. "Sure, Doc. I guess I'll finish up the bioanalysis on Neelix's newest fruits. Let me know if you need anything."

Right now, I really did have to finish with those damned fruits. Or vegetables… whatever they were. Some of these Delta Quadrant plant species defied Terran classifications. The sooner I finished with the plants, the sooner I got to leave sickbay. Chakotay would be in command tonight, but Harry and I still needed to find a ploy to keep Janeway away from the holodeck tonight. The engineering staff had constructed a small still in Maintenance Access 473 off of engineering, and there was a party tonight to celebrate. Something the command team of the ship definitely couldn't be allowed to participate in. I still had a lot to do before then.

I hurried through the rest of the plants, processing them as quickly as possible, but making sure not to miss anything important in the process. Didn't want to make someone have a severe allergic reaction in the mess hall or anything. After I finished, I stuck my head in the Doc's office to let him know I was leaving.

"See ya at Sandrines later?" The Doctor nodded. I initially had to convince him that Sandrines was a valuable opportunity for perfecting his bedside manner, but once I got him started, the Doc enjoyed himself too much to miss it. Although I doubt he'd admit it. B'Elanna had even managed to draw him into the moonshine conspiracy by convincing him that it was his medical duty to examine all alcohol in case of contamination. I took one last look at the odd assortment of plants on the table and smiled. Free at last. I smiled in relief as I left sickbay. I had more important things to do. I had a party to plan.

The engineering still had started small, but had become a shipwide secret. Tonight's party was in celebration of achieving shipwide distribution, so only the people directly involved were allowed this evening. As the project grew, it'd definitely become a team effort. B'Elanna and Joe Carey made the stuff, Chell smuggled it to sickbay, the Doc inspected it for quality, and I delivered it to the rest of the crew. Harry monitored Tuvok's inspection schedule and alerted us when it was in danger of being discovered. In case of an inspection, the equipment was temporarily hidden with Neelix.

Although I wasn't sure how much Vorik was involved directly, he helped B'Elanna and Joe perfect the recipe when necessary. And we'd once escaped detention by having Vorik tell Tuvok that he'd checked all maintenance access ports in and around engineering and had detected no illegal activity. Tuvok didn't think to question the honesty of a fellow Vulcan. And Vorik claimed that he hadn't lied, but had merely exaggerated the truth under the orders of his commanding officer, in this case B'Elanna. Since Starfleet regulations didn't specifically prohibit the manufacture of alcoholic substances, only their consumption onboard a starship, the still wasn't technically illegal, only unauthorized.

I grinned. For all their logic, Vulcans had a surprisingly convenient morality when it served their purpose. Like when Tuvok had gone behind Janeway's back to secure alien technology in direct violation of the prime directive, claiming that he was making the logical decision which her position as captain prevented her from making. Of course, I had to agree that the logical decision wasn't always the moral one, but then I had never claimed to be a pacifist.

As I made my way to Harry's quarters, I was struck with a thought of pure inspiration. I knew the perfect way to keep the captain busy this evening, without even arousing suspicion. We just needed to think up some scientific paradox. Something that looked simple to solve, but didn't actually work when applied. Harry would know dozens of things like that. Harry could use his operations codes to feed the readings into the sensor logs, then B'Elanna could report it, and her own inability to solve it, just before she went off duty for the night. If I knew the captain at all, she would download the readings into her personal terminal and stay up all night drinking coffee and trying to figure it out. With an intellectual challenge like that, it'd be morning before it even occurred to her to think about anything else. She'd forget all about the holodeck. I was a genius. Now I just had to get Harry to help me work out the anomaly that'd keep Janeway up late.

It was halfway through the fifth round of shots that I started to realize something was wrong. I could feel the alcohol starting to make my head buzz. But Harry was still relatively sober. As much as I like the kid, I know he could never handle his liquor that well. This batch was stronger than usual, enough to make me grimace each time I took a shot, yet Harry barely reacted. Then he challenged me to a drinking contest and I knew what the problem was. I distracted Harry and B'Elanna by making some comment about what Vorik and Sandrine were doing, and quickly grabbed one of his drinks while their heads were turned.

Bastards. They'd fixed the drinks. Somehow mine were excessively strong, but Harry's had barely enough alcohol to taste. I looked around Sandrines and realized that everyone else in the bar seemed remarkably sober as well. This had all been planned.

I leaned back in my chair and thought for a minute. Tried to think of some way to get back at them, but my head was already a little too fuzzy to think straight. Harry turned back and repeated his challenge and I decided. What the hell, it was already too late to keep the scales even. Had already passed the point of no return. May as well make the evening as entertaining as possible. I accepted, but then added that this was just for entertainment. No way I was going to bet replicator rations on a game I knew I'd lose. I'd give them a good show, but I wasn't going to condemn myself to eating Neelix's food for a month.

Fifteen rounds later, I was beginning to question my decision. B'Elanna kept taunting me about being outdrunk by Harry. Didn't she know I'd figured it out? Wasn't that stupid. But I couldn't stop. I couldn't take my eyes off Harry. Couldn't stop staring. The way the black hair fell down across his eyes. The way he kept blushing under my intense gaze. Kept smiling widely, faint dimples showing, trying to pretend he was drunk. Lips so luscious I could barely restrain myself from leaning over to kiss them. So fucking gorgeous. My Harry. And so dangerously close, so beautiful, that I could barely breathe.

Gods, what was I thinking! I'd been just about ready to grab him and… Best not think about it. If something did happen with Harry, I wanted it to be perfect, not some drunken gesture in front of everyone. Had to find something else to think about.

I looked around the room, trying to find something else to focus on. But everyone else seemed busy doing something. Chell was talking animatedly to Vorik and the Doc. Guess Doc must've come in while I was drinking. Neelix and Joe Carey were playing pool. Only Sandrine seemed unoccupied.

Wait, I had an idea. I gestured Sandrine over to the table, trying to look suave, but grinning stupidly in spite of myself. "Vodka martini, shaken, not stirred." Managed to look sophisticated for a few seconds before laughing helplessly. Damn, I was drunk. I looked around and saw that no one else seemed to get the joke. Oh well, guess I shouldn't be surprised. Harry had shown an interest, but no one else seemed to get as excited about the twentieth century as I did.

Now there was an idea. Harry kept complaining about never getting to be the bad guy. Maybe I should start programming a 007 holonovel… Some of those villains had enough class to be fitting for Harry. And they were certainly evil enough. I snickered to myself. If Harry thought Chaotica's slave girls were hot, wait till he got an eyeful of the Bond girls. I smiled even wider and decided I should definitely try to remember this idea when I was sober. Couldn't wait to get my hands on one of those gadget-filled cars.

Sandrine brought back my drink and set it down in front of me. I ignored it. I'd be damned if I was gonna drink synthehol when there was genuine engineering moonshine around. I'd just been too amused by the idea to pass it up. One of those drunken whim things.

"Hey Har, you ever heard of Bond before?" I waited, but Harry didn't seem to recognize it. "Bond. James Bond." I chuckled in spite of myself. "Oh forget it. Guess you don't know enough about the twentieth century to get it."

Harry looked insulted, pouting as he retorted, "Hey, I know plenty about the twentieth century." Damn, he's cute when he pouts. "Just not the stuff you know. I admit I don't know anything about their transportation. But I've picked up a decent amount of that television stuff from you. And I am a musician after all. I know a hell of a lot more about twentieth-century music, at least."

I stood up abruptly. "The hell you do." I vaguely realized that I was overreacting, but with the alcohol in my system, I couldn't seem to help it. "I know more about twentieth-century music in my little finger than you'll ever know." Shit, that hadn't come out right. Harry started giggling and I stared in fascination. Such a little kid sometimes. But no little kid could ever look that fucking beautiful.

B'Elanna jumped in and I tried to pull my eyes away from Harry. Didn't know what she had to do with this, but I was grateful for the distraction. I tried to focus on her and saw she was staring at me in challenge. I pulled myself up to my full height and tried to look as intimidating as possible. What were we arguing about again? Oh, right. I knew that she didn't know that I knew about the drinks. Or something. Music, that was it. I tried to look arrogant, but knew I was too drunk to pull it off. "Pick a decade."

B'Elanna snorted, taunting me, "And you'll do what… Sing?" Damn. I loved her, or at least I'd once tried to. How the hell could she do this to me? Of course, I'd figured it out, but if she really thought I'd believed it, how could she be this cruel? I dimly realized that Harry was chuckling. The deep rumbling sound seemed to vibrate through me, but now I was too angry to wonder at the odd sensation. Him too?

But Harry would never be cruel to me. At least not on purpose. It was all B'Elanna's fault. "Sure." But that couldn't be right either. No matter what she really thought about our relationship, she wouldn't hurt me. "I can sing. Just pick a decade." I glared at her, still angry, but the rage was quickly bleeding away.

I made my way toward Doc and the piano. Must be the alcohol. I knew they wouldn't be cruel on purpose. Not really sure why I'd been so furious anyway. Just the shots. Hell, I'd already gotten myself into this, had to follow through with it now. I could sing. Just a short song and I'd be on an escape vector before I could humiliate myself any more. Easy as cake. Piece of pie. Something like that.

I scowled at that. If I couldn't even remember a stupid phrase, how the fuck was I gonna remember song lyrics? Oh well, too late for second thoughts now. I smiled at the Doc, sure that he at least hadn't been in on the conspiracy. "You'll help me get through it, right Doc?" To my relief, he smiled back, obviously on my side.

I took a deep breath and turned back to the crowd. I'd be damned before I'd let them get the best of me, especially through a dirty trick like that. They wanted a fucking show and they were damn well gonna get one they wouldn't forget. I'd teach them to mess with Thomas Eugene Paris. "Well…?" I summoned every bit of Maquis defiance, convict insolence, and admiral's son superiority I could muster. Nobody fucked with Tom Paris and got away with it.

To my annoyance, B'Elanna didn't seem intimidated. Damn Klingon. "How about the forties?" She looked to Harry for advice and for a moment I was afraid he would betray me. Unlike B'Elanna, he knew enough about twentieth-century music to really make me look like a fool. But Harry just shrugged, unwilling to help her. Thank the gods. "Yeah, the forties sound okay."

I turned back to the Doc, smiling to convince both of us that I could do this. For a second there I'd been afraid I was gonna have to sing disco. Hmmm… The Forties. Sinatra was from the forties, wasn't he? I could do Sinatra. "Doc, you know the song Witchcraft? Frank Sinatra?"

The Doc nodded, and I could tell he was trying to be as supportive as possible. I'd have to remember to thank him for this when I was sober. "Old Blue Eyes does seem rather appropriate." Damn, this man was really trying to be a good friend tonight. Every lover I'd ever had had commented on my eyes, but I didn't think the Doc had ever noticed.

It was now or never. I turned back to the audience, but couldn't shake the nagging feeling that I was missing something. The music started and I suddenly knew what it was. I needed a microphone. Couldn't very well sing Sinatra without a microphone. I let the music die off as I looked around for something to use. A beer bottle, that should work. I grabbed one off the bar and got ready to start again. This was gonna be great. I'd have them eating out of my hand. "Hit it, Doc."

The music began and I walked confidently into the audience, moving my hips to the rhythm. Might not be the best singer in the quadrant, but I knew how to use my body to distract them from that. This was a performance they wouldn't forget. With an evil grin, I straddled Harry as I began to sing, startling a surprised blush out of the younger man. "Those fingers in my hair," as I ran my fingers through his dark locks. Gods, like satin under my fingertips. Shouldn't have distracted myself so soon in the performance.

"That sly come hither stare." And I arched my back to gaze at B'Elanna over my shoulder. But I could feel Harry between my legs. My best friend between my legs. Harry's delicious flesh only inches away from my own… Thank the gods I was too drunk to get a hard on. Couldn't keep him from noticing that. Had to get away from him before I lost control. "That strips my conscience bare." No shit. I slid off Harry while I still could. No more of that. Not if I wanted to face anyone in the morning.

I moved around the room, seducing the audience in turn and suggestively caressing the bottle. I had them all under my spell. Harry was still beet red and B'Elanna was laughing in delight. Joe looked distinctly fascinated. Even Vorik had a hard time maintaining his quiet Vulcan demeanor when his turn came. I smiled in delight. Time for the final triumph.

I worked my way back toward the piano, perfectly timing myself to arrive as the instrumental section began. I commanded the computer to change the piano to a baby grand, lid down, and saw the Doc jump as it changed beneath his hands. Oops, probably should've warned him about that. No matter now.

I jumped up onto the piano, knowing that every eye in the room was focused on me. I closed my eyes and began to move my body, using my movements to seduce everyone there. Moved my hands slowly across my body, allowing my movements to suggest what I knew they wanted to see. They'd get their show all right. Let my hands wander suggestively across my chest and arms, even as I could feel their stares caressing my body.

I could feel the music penetrating every cell of my body, moving me with it. Could feel it pulling me along, as the tempo swelled, trumpets swooning in my ear. Could hear every part of it, layering on top of each other, tumbling and intertwining as the volume grew. Percussion bursting through the other layers of sound, overtaking me in its upward crescendo. Then suddenly part of it was gone. I opened my eyes, momentarily confused. The crowd was going wild, obviously enthralled, so no one else had noticed. The Doctor. That's what it was. The Doc had stopped playing.

I looked down to see what the problem was. The Doc was staring at me with the most intense expression I'd ever seen on him. One of amazement, fascination. I looked closer, trying to figure it out. I could see his total submission to my gaze, his unwillingness, or inability, to break eye contact. But I could also see the traces of shock in his expression. Not good. I leaned closer to him, trying to break whatever spell he was under. "You okay, Doc?" He started at my words, but they seemed to pull him out of it. The Doctor shook his head, visibly shaking off his thoughts. He looked down at the keyboard, trying to concentrate, and began to play again.

The instrumental section ended and I leapt off the piano. I let the music move me, guiding my words and performance automatically while I wondered about the Doc. What was that all about? Without thinking about it, I moved behind the piano, placing my hands on his shoulders. I stayed there a moment as I sang, but could feel his body suddenly tense under my hands. I looked down and could see fear in every line of his body. I could recognize that when I saw it too. Not sure what that was about either, but I wasn't gonna stick around to find out. I quickly moved away, finishing the song as I returned my attention to the audience.

I stood silent as the last strains of music died away and were then overwhelmed with applause. I waited, soaking up the applause, my brain working at warp to crystallize every detail of the moment in my mind. Harry looked so proud he could burst, clapping his hands together furiously. I noted with interest that his face was still a bit red, flushed with embarrassment and what I thought might be pleasure. B'Elanna was stamping her feet on the ground, her Klingon exuberance obviously on my side for the moment. Joe whistled at me and I teasingly licked my lips in response. This made the audience howl with laughter, and I knew I had them at my command. That'd teach them to fuck with Tom Paris. I stayed motionless, letting the noise slowly ebb, then bowed dramatically.

Remembering that humility was supposedly a virtue, I motioned the Doc to join me. When he stood at my side, we bowed together. The spell was broken and my friends started to surge toward me. Just before I was engulfed in congratulations, I glanced over at the Doc, expecting him to share in a little of the glory. But what I saw instead was panic. Clear, undeniable panic. Before I could react, I was surrounded by my friends. He'd vanished by the time I had a chance to look again.

What the hell could make a hologram panic? I excused myself as quickly as possible and hurried toward sickbay. I wanted to stay and soak up a bit more acclaim, but the Doc had become a close friend and I had to make sure he was okay first. Guess it was better to leave them wanting more anyway.

When I arrived at sickbay, the Doc had already deactivated himself. I debated reactivating him for a moment, demanding an explanation, but quickly decided against it. If it had frightened the man that badly, I should at least let him have a chance to pull himself together before confronting it. Besides, that'd give me a chance to try and figure it out for myself first. I reluctantly turned to leave, already deep in thought by the time I reached the door.