Author's note:
Hey, it's chapter two. What else can I say? POV switches designated by *~*~*~*~*. Starting out with Harry again.
And oh my God, I got two reviews already!!!! And you liked it!! Thank you, thank you, thank you, Enara and Breeze!! =^D See what happens when you review my work, folks? You get thanked! By name!! =^) Isn't that worth a little itty-bitty piece of your time? I mean, you've already taken the time to read it, why not hit that review button? Hehe. Thanks again!
Disclaimer: Yeah, you know what? I just found out that amazingly enough, I am not the president of Paramount. So incredibly enough (I know, weird right? It sure is taking me a while to get used to this) I don't own any part of Star Trek. And I'm not making any money off this story, unfortunately, so don't bother suing me.
*~*~*~*~*
As we walked into my quarters, I glanced at Tom's face. He looked lost in thought, and I hoped it wasn't because he suspected my motives for bringing him here. But who was I kidding, my motives weren't innocent. On the turbolift, a thought had come to me: I had begun to realize how close I'd come to losing him, first when he's gotten stabbed, defending me, and then when I'd gone mad and nearly finished the job. I was starting to come to a decision: it was time to tell him. Who knew when he might be taken away from me forever? I couldn't take the chance that he'd never know… could I? 'No, no – this is nuts,' I thought. 'He'll never understand, I can't tell him. There's no way he feels the same way! If I tell him now – '
Tom brought me out of my reverie. "So, buddy, you mind if I use your bathroom to tidy up a little? Maybe take a quick sonic shower? I don't know about you, but that Akritirian prison left me feeling a little grimy, to say the least."
"Sure, of course. Take your time," I replied, struggling to fend off the mental image of Tom naked in my bathroom… no use. I sighed. At this rate, I'd be confessing everything by the time we were done with the appetizers.
"Everything okay?" Tom was standing in the bathroom doorway, shirtless. Oh no. "You seem a little upset," he added, with that classic Tom Paris 'you- can-tell-me' look in his eyes.
I was shaken. "Uh, no, everything's fine. Go ahead and take your shower, I'll have the risa beans ready by the time you're done." Again I tried and failed to keep myself from thinking of my best friend naked. 'This is wrong!' I thought, mentally berating myself. 'He's your friend, he trusts you! How can you betray him, thinking things like that?'
But he just grinned. "Okay then. And don't overdo it! They're better rare than well-done," he called as he disappeared back into the bathroom. I heard the sonic shower whirring into action as I programmed the recipe into the replicator.
Pacing the floor, I attempted to get my thoughts in order. Was I going to take a chance, and tell him how I felt? Or was I just going to take the coward's way out, and keep the conversation within the safe, comfortable confines of the friendship that had come to mean more to me than anything else in my life? No. It was time.
Tom came out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. "Ah, that feels better. Hey Harry, you mind if I borrow something to wear? I just don't want to put my smelly uniform back on…" He trailed off as he saw the look on my face. "Harry, what is it?"
I shivered, unable for a moment to make my vocal cords work. "Ah… I…" I couldn't tell him. Not like this, with him just standing in the middle of my floor with nothing on except a towel! "N-nothing," I stammered. "It's nothing."
He looked skeptical. "Come on, Harry. I know you better than that. You've been acting strange since we got back." He walked to where I stood, putting his hands on my shoulders. A rush of dizziness swept over me. "Harry, I told you, I forgive you for what you did. Or almost did – whatever." His voice grew softer. "It wasn't your fault." His eyes were so kind, so understanding… I could look into those eyes forever… No! I tore myself away from him with an effort.
"Tom, I said it's nothing, and that's all I'm going to say." I took a deep breath. "You can borrow clothes if you want, you know where they are." I waited for him to say something, to move toward my closet, anything, but he just stood there. Finally I looked at him. "What?" My voice sounded harsher than I had intended, but I didn't dare soften it. I was taking the easy way out and I hated myself for it.
Confusion flitted over his features, followed by anger. "I just don't get it, Harry. I thought we could trust each other. If you can't even tell me what the hell is bothering you, then I guess I was wrong about that. And I don't want to burden you with my presence. Computer, site-to-site transport. Beam me directly to my quarters."
I stared dumbly as he dematerialized, tears filling my eyes. I cursed myself silently as I wept. Coward.
*~*~*~*~*
"Well, Thomas Eugene Paris, it's official. You're a complete moron," I said out loud. "You had the perfect chance to tell Harry how you felt, and you blew it, just like you've done with every other good thing that's come along in your life. You blew it." I stared at myself in the mirror, wearing nothing but Harry's towel. "And you took his towel, too. What kind of friend are you?" Disgusted with myself, I got some clothes on and left for the mess hall. Self-loathing not withstanding, I was hungry, and if I couldn't spend my replicator rations with Harry, I didn't feel like I deserved to use them at all. Leola root stew would do, and even that was too good for a moron like me.
There you go, chapter two! I promise, chapter three will be up in short order. Keep those reviews coming! What works for you? Is my characterization on target? How long should I keep them in suspense? =^D Let me know what you think, and see your name in lights in the author's note above chapter three! Hehe.
Hey, it's chapter two. What else can I say? POV switches designated by *~*~*~*~*. Starting out with Harry again.
And oh my God, I got two reviews already!!!! And you liked it!! Thank you, thank you, thank you, Enara and Breeze!! =^D See what happens when you review my work, folks? You get thanked! By name!! =^) Isn't that worth a little itty-bitty piece of your time? I mean, you've already taken the time to read it, why not hit that review button? Hehe. Thanks again!
Disclaimer: Yeah, you know what? I just found out that amazingly enough, I am not the president of Paramount. So incredibly enough (I know, weird right? It sure is taking me a while to get used to this) I don't own any part of Star Trek. And I'm not making any money off this story, unfortunately, so don't bother suing me.
*~*~*~*~*
As we walked into my quarters, I glanced at Tom's face. He looked lost in thought, and I hoped it wasn't because he suspected my motives for bringing him here. But who was I kidding, my motives weren't innocent. On the turbolift, a thought had come to me: I had begun to realize how close I'd come to losing him, first when he's gotten stabbed, defending me, and then when I'd gone mad and nearly finished the job. I was starting to come to a decision: it was time to tell him. Who knew when he might be taken away from me forever? I couldn't take the chance that he'd never know… could I? 'No, no – this is nuts,' I thought. 'He'll never understand, I can't tell him. There's no way he feels the same way! If I tell him now – '
Tom brought me out of my reverie. "So, buddy, you mind if I use your bathroom to tidy up a little? Maybe take a quick sonic shower? I don't know about you, but that Akritirian prison left me feeling a little grimy, to say the least."
"Sure, of course. Take your time," I replied, struggling to fend off the mental image of Tom naked in my bathroom… no use. I sighed. At this rate, I'd be confessing everything by the time we were done with the appetizers.
"Everything okay?" Tom was standing in the bathroom doorway, shirtless. Oh no. "You seem a little upset," he added, with that classic Tom Paris 'you- can-tell-me' look in his eyes.
I was shaken. "Uh, no, everything's fine. Go ahead and take your shower, I'll have the risa beans ready by the time you're done." Again I tried and failed to keep myself from thinking of my best friend naked. 'This is wrong!' I thought, mentally berating myself. 'He's your friend, he trusts you! How can you betray him, thinking things like that?'
But he just grinned. "Okay then. And don't overdo it! They're better rare than well-done," he called as he disappeared back into the bathroom. I heard the sonic shower whirring into action as I programmed the recipe into the replicator.
Pacing the floor, I attempted to get my thoughts in order. Was I going to take a chance, and tell him how I felt? Or was I just going to take the coward's way out, and keep the conversation within the safe, comfortable confines of the friendship that had come to mean more to me than anything else in my life? No. It was time.
Tom came out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. "Ah, that feels better. Hey Harry, you mind if I borrow something to wear? I just don't want to put my smelly uniform back on…" He trailed off as he saw the look on my face. "Harry, what is it?"
I shivered, unable for a moment to make my vocal cords work. "Ah… I…" I couldn't tell him. Not like this, with him just standing in the middle of my floor with nothing on except a towel! "N-nothing," I stammered. "It's nothing."
He looked skeptical. "Come on, Harry. I know you better than that. You've been acting strange since we got back." He walked to where I stood, putting his hands on my shoulders. A rush of dizziness swept over me. "Harry, I told you, I forgive you for what you did. Or almost did – whatever." His voice grew softer. "It wasn't your fault." His eyes were so kind, so understanding… I could look into those eyes forever… No! I tore myself away from him with an effort.
"Tom, I said it's nothing, and that's all I'm going to say." I took a deep breath. "You can borrow clothes if you want, you know where they are." I waited for him to say something, to move toward my closet, anything, but he just stood there. Finally I looked at him. "What?" My voice sounded harsher than I had intended, but I didn't dare soften it. I was taking the easy way out and I hated myself for it.
Confusion flitted over his features, followed by anger. "I just don't get it, Harry. I thought we could trust each other. If you can't even tell me what the hell is bothering you, then I guess I was wrong about that. And I don't want to burden you with my presence. Computer, site-to-site transport. Beam me directly to my quarters."
I stared dumbly as he dematerialized, tears filling my eyes. I cursed myself silently as I wept. Coward.
*~*~*~*~*
"Well, Thomas Eugene Paris, it's official. You're a complete moron," I said out loud. "You had the perfect chance to tell Harry how you felt, and you blew it, just like you've done with every other good thing that's come along in your life. You blew it." I stared at myself in the mirror, wearing nothing but Harry's towel. "And you took his towel, too. What kind of friend are you?" Disgusted with myself, I got some clothes on and left for the mess hall. Self-loathing not withstanding, I was hungry, and if I couldn't spend my replicator rations with Harry, I didn't feel like I deserved to use them at all. Leola root stew would do, and even that was too good for a moron like me.
There you go, chapter two! I promise, chapter three will be up in short order. Keep those reviews coming! What works for you? Is my characterization on target? How long should I keep them in suspense? =^D Let me know what you think, and see your name in lights in the author's note above chapter three! Hehe.