Title: The Effect You Have On Me
Author: Isabelle S.
Series: Voyager
Pairing: P
Parts: 4/4
Rating: PG

Disclaimer: Star Trek: Voyager doesn't belong to me. It never
did, it never will. It belongs to Paramount.

Archive: Sure, just tell me where.

Author's note: Just to let you know that in this story the HOW
things happen is not as important as the WHY things happen.

Synopsis: What's next?

The Effect You Have On Me
By Isabelle S.
synbou@hotmail.com

***

I saw him walked in through the door. He obviously wasn't too
sure what to expect. He looked in my direction and our eyes met.
I smiled at him warmly. I was so happy to see him here. I noticed
his demeanor relax in response to my welcoming greeting. He
smiled back at me with a gratitude. With a nod, I encouraged him
to go and join his son, who was seated in the corner.

I tried to look busy, minding my own business, but I couldn't
help but keep an eye on the two of them. The place was empty
except for one other regular customer. I was grateful for that.

"Son," I heard the father say, bring the young man out of his day
dreaming.

"Admiral," the cadet acknowledged snapping to attention. "I'm
sorry, Sir. I didn't notice you come in."

"It's all right, Tom. Relax. I'm not here as the 'Admiral'," he
replied with a grin.

"Sometimes it's hard to tell," Tom mumbled.

"Next time, I'll try to remember to change first," his father
said lightly.

The comment stole a small smile from Tom. It was more a gesture
of politeness, but it was still a smile. Smiles was hard to come
by ever since Tom had lost three of his best friends in a
terrible accident a few days earlier.

"Can we sit down?" Owen Paris asked.

Tom simply nodded before taking back his seat. His gaze was
downcast on the table top. It was such an uncharacteristic
display coming from this usually outgoing and social young man.

"You still want to talk about it, don't you?" Tom voiced a bit
accusingly.

"Not if you don't want to, Tiger," his father reassured him.
"What you're going through is very difficult at the moment. I
just want to let you know that we're there, your mother and I, if
you ever needed to talk. You know that you don't have to be
afraid to talk to us about anything, don't you Son?"

Tom looked away from the table top. He was fidgeting nervously in
his chair. He looked like a small animal ready to crawl in the
nearest hiding corner.

Pauvre Petit.


"I can't.. I can't stop thinking about it," Tom confessed after a
long and heavy silence.

"That's understandable, Son," his father told him on a soft tone.
"You survived a very traumatizing accident. I know it's very
difficult to go on after the loss of our friends. I'm afraid that
it will take sometime before it goes away. But, I assure you that
it will get better with time. You have to grieve for your friends
first."

Tom shook his head as he tried to find a way how to voice what
was on his mind.

"I don't understand," he utter harshly in a sudden outburst of
anger. He got to his feet and paced restlessly. "I keep replaying
what happened over and over in my head. I still don't understand.
I don't know what went wrong!?"

"Tell me again what happened," Owen offered. "Maybe I can help
you figure it out."

"I'm tired, tired of retelling it," Tom protested. "I don't want
to think about it anymore. I just want it to be over. Why can't
it be over?"

"I know it's hard, Tom, but we have to know what caused the
accident," the Admiral said. "It's not going to go away before we
do. We owe this to your friends and their families, don't you
think? You owe it to yourself. Please, tell me again what
happened."

Tom fought with himself as he kept pacing.

"What if..." the Cadet trailed off.

"What if what?" Owen prompted.

"What if I did something wrong?"

"Is that what you're afraid of? Do you think you did something
wrong?" the older man asked carefully maintaining his composure.

"I don't know," Tom answered quickly. He risked a swift sideways
look to his father.

I could see the shameful expression on his young face as he
turned his head back in my direction. My heart went to him.

"You would be very disappointed in me, wouldn't you?" he said.

"Maybe," his father reply truthfully.

"You'd be hurt," Tom added.

I don't exactly know what prompted Owen Paris to get to his feet
and comfort his son by taking a hold of his shoulders, although I
could make an educated guess.

"Tom look into my eyes and tell me the truth," Owen ordered. "Are
you afraid to tell us all that did happen at Caldik Prime because
you think that it's going to hurt me?"

Tears escaping from Tom's red-rimed blue eyes were his answer.

Owen pulled his son into a hug as his body was shaken by
uncontrollable sobs.

"It's very... loving of you to try to protect me from hurt,
Tiger," the father told his son. "But, if you made a mistake, you
will have to take responsibility for it. You know that." Owen
gently pushed Tom away so that they could make eye contact. "Son,
I can never be disappointed in you if you stand for the truth,"
he added him.

"You'll be there?" Tom wondered worriedly.


"Of course," Owen assured him. "I love you, Son."

Despite myself, I shed a bittersweet tear as I watched them
leave, Tom still wrapped in his father's arm.

"How about another glass a wine?" I suggested to the only
customer. "I feel like making a toast."

Danya agreed somewhat reluctantly.

"I just wish we could have prevented him from going through this
terrible ordeal, Sandrine," she confessed.

"I know, ma Cherie. But, but some things are meant to happen."

She sighed.

"Now dry those tears away," I ordered her.

"You're right," she said. "I just hope that this Tom Paris has
such an effect on me..."

"On us all, ma belle. On us all."

***

The End

**
Big Thanks to Louise and Monica once again.

Thanks for reading
Isabelle S.
synbou@hotmail.com

Copyrights @ January 2001