Chapter 25—2369

Torres was quiet during the run, but Paris recognized it as the 'I'm too furious to form a sentence' quiet, not the companionable quiet that he was more used to. He tried to broach the subject early in the run, but was quickly shot down, and remained just as quiet for the remainder, doing all that he could to keep up with her pace.

When they returned, they found Admiral Paris alone in the main lobby, sipping a mug of coffee. "Come in to the conference room," he said as a greeting, trying not to show his amusement at watching his son trying to catch his breath. "I explained the situation to Commander O'Malley," he opened as they sat. "Apparently, there was a glitch in the Academy reporting system, had 'Paris' listed as the Junior Survival Strategies professor for 'Torres', and 'Torres' listed as a private shuttle student of 'Paris.'"

"I give Navi flight lessons," Lt. Paris said weakly.

"I know that, Thomas, and now so does Starfleet Security," Admiral Paris said brusquely. "We got that straightened out, and I explained that the two of you have been dating for months and that your relationship pre-dates Tom's assignment at Starfleet Academy."

"Actually, it doesn't," Tom protested. "We weren't dating when I started as an instructor in January."

"If anybody asks, you've been dating since she visited Mars following space walks," Owen countered. "With how often you were seen at Starfleet Medical during her coma, nobody would doubt it." Tom was going to point out that he was still casually seeing Ashley Wilson for another month or so after that day, but the determined look on his father's face stopped him.

"Well, now that that's taken care of, can we go?" Lt. Paris asked.

"Not yet," his father replied with a small sigh. "It may not be much of an issue, but technically, relationships between officers and cadets are fraternization, and you did show up at a diplomatic function with a cadet on your arm."

"Actually, she showed up at a diplomatic function with an officer on her arm," the younger Paris replied with a smirk. "It was her roommate's engagement party. I was the guest."

"Regardless of who invited whom, you are the officer here. Commander O'Malley and I agreed that a two-hour Officer Advancement Course on fraternization followed by a one-hour session with a Starfleet counselor would be a sufficient punishment."

"Punishment for what? We didn't do anything wrong!" Lt. Paris protested.

The admiral held up his hand to quiet his son. "I'm not done. At the end of the semester, you are being transferred back to Captain Hitchcock's command at Utopia Planitia. Thomas, let me finish," he said sternly when Tom opened his mouth to protest again. "He has been requesting that you return to your previous position for a few weeks now, and it's just coincidental that it happened to fall at this time. This is not intended to punish you or get you away from San Francisco. There will be no record of fraternization or this conversation in your personnel file."

Lt. Paris sighed, knowing that his father must have pulled some strings for that last bit. He also knew that he should be glad to be going back to UP, which was where the Fleet's most advanced ships were designed and tested. Using his twentieth-century cars as an analogy, flying the ships from UP was like cruising along in a 1963 Chevrolet Corvette Sting Ray; the ships at R&D San Francisco were more like the Ford Pinto. The only positive thing about his posting in San Francisco was his proximity to Torres.

He glanced over at the cadet, whose eyes were fixed forward, her jaw set in determination. He had gotten his slap on the wrist and probably ended up ahead, career-wise. He had grown up in the limelight, accustomed to being the center of attention: the much-younger sibling, the only son, the star pilot, the bright pupil. He long ago stopped caring about what people were saying about him. B'Elanna, on the other hand, didn't like anybody talking about her—while not falsely modest, she wasn't even comfortable with praise of her work. "What about B'Elanna?"

The elder Paris' eyes went to the half-Klingon cadet sitting stiffly in the chair nearest the door. "Since she's already seeing a counselor, we can't require her to talk to another about this, but we encourage a conversation with that counselor."

"He already knows," she said, her voice hollow.

"According to regulations, it is the superior officer's responsibility to end any 'inappropriate' relationships," Admiral Paris continued, now talking directly to her. "Therefore, you didn't do anything wrong. There won't be anything in your file."

She laughed bitterly. "That's a stupid argument, and you know it. I'm not an idiot."

"B'Elanna, this is a good thing. Don't fight it," Tom said quietly. She only rolled her eyes and looked away in response.

"As I see it, the cat's out of the bag," Owen continued, forcing a smile. "You don't have to worry about being caught fraternizing anymore." When that didn't get a response from Torres, he turned back to his son. "Your cousin Lucy has a place in Cairns, right on the beach. She's in Luna City for the week, but she said you two are more than welcome to the apartment." That still didn't get a reaction from B'Elanna. "Go up to Cairns, enjoy the sun, go snorkeling in the Great Barrier Reef. You may not think so right now, B'Elanna, but this will turn out to be a good thing, for both of you. You don't need to hide anything."

"Thanks, Owen," Torres finally responded, managing a thin smile. She turned back to Tom and nodded slightly. "It's too cold in San Francisco right now. I think I can use the sun."

"I'll probably end up with a sunburn," he joked back. He was caught off-guard when his father tossed a hypospray in his direction.

"Sunscreen," he explained with a smile. "I'll see you both back in San Francisco Sunday night."