Disclaimer and A/N see chapter 1.
*****
What the hell am I doing? Chakotay thought to himself as he made his way to Paris' quarters, he had decided it was best to start in a territory familiar with Paris. But he didn't have to be on his way to see Paris, he could be having a drink, in the holodeck, or even getting some work done, but no. He had insisted that he counsel, *counsel*, Tom Paris. And he knew that Paris wouldn't thank him for it, oh no, far from it. Despite his perfect display of a Starfleet officer on the bridge today, he had almost been able to feel the waves of animosity emitting from the pilot. But perhaps the most disturbing of all was the lack of Paris humour on the bridge, despite it being irritating and usually directed at him, its absence was disquieting. He hadn't cracked any jokes, or turned round and flashed that cocky grin of his, or even given that infuriating look of mock disappointment whilst he pouted those lips...
Whoa! Where the hell had that come from?
But, of course, he knew where that had come from. Okay...he thought as he continued down the corridor...so I find him eye-catching, and so what? Who doesn't, he's damn near the most attractive, good-looking man on this ship. That doesn't stop him being the most annoying and arrogant man who needs taking down a notch, or two, or three, at the same time.
But yet, he was standing outside his quarters, pressing the chime and probably about to receive a barrage of abuse, all to help this 'annoying and arrogant' man. And when he tried to work out why his mind supplied the image from that morning, of Paris caught up in terror with a look of pain twisting his features. Chakotay suppressed a shiver as he gave up on trying to get it all sorted out in his head, and instead focussed his mind on the task ahead as he heard Tom's call to enter.
"Good evening, Commander, would you like a drink?" Paris asked, standing in the middle of the room, facing him as he entered.
Formal. So this is how it's going to be, is it?
"Chakotay."
"Excuse me, sir?" Paris seemed a little confused.
"You can call me Chakotay when we're off duty."
"With all due respect, sir, this is no social visit." He replied in clipped tones.
"Well, seeing as I'm an unofficial counsellor, I guess this is an unofficial visit." Chakotay could almost see Paris biting back a hasty reply. He wished that he could see past that damned mask of aloofness, even just for a moment.
"Won't you sit down?" Apparently, Paris hadn't been able to keep an edge of sarcasm from his voice.
"Thank you." Chakotay ignored the tone of Paris' voice and took a seat opposite the sofa that Paris had just settled back in with a carefully executed, confident pose. After a moment of contemplating Chakotay, he asked with a voice, louder than his normal easygoing tone, tainted with barely controlled anger,
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
At last! The quiet coolness had been starting to get to Chakotay...
"The Captain..."
"The Captain acted on your recommendation."
"Paris, what I saw this morning..."
"Was one slip. The Captain said it herself this morning; I've coped just fine up until now, but I make one slip, and all of a sudden I'm 'distressed' and need counselling! It's ridiculous! Do you jump every time someone has a nightmare? Because if you do, you must be a very busy man." Paris was shouting by now, despite the calm he had tried to convey earlier.
"We both know it's more than that, Paris. You've been suffering from them all the years that I've been going on away missions with you."
"It's nothing! I'm sorry if I've bothered you, really I am, but they're just stupid, pathetic, childish nightmares." Paris had got up and was pacing the length of the sofa. Finally he made his way over to the view- port and looked out at the countless stars, so turning his back on Chakotay.
"Well, it was serious enough this morning to make you cry out in pain. You were in *pain*, Tom, I can't just ignore that."
Tom turned round, with a mocking laugh. "Oh, I see. I'd wondered why you'd go through all this for me, why you seemed concerned about me, but it's not about me, is it? It's about your conscience."
"That's unfair Paris."
"Is it? I don't think so. You're just the same as all the rest, only deem yourself worthy of coming into contact with me if you can get something out of it for yourself." All traces of laughter had gone. Instead he had spoken with hurt and disdain. He turned back to the stars, "I think perhaps you should go."
Chakotay knew he would not get anything from the man now, so he stood, saying, "I'll see you tomorrow." And left.
He knew he shouldn't have bothered, he knew he should have just left it, but as he strode back to his own quarters, Paris' last statement kept playing back in his mind,
'You're just the same as all the rest, only deem yourself worthy of coming into contact with me if you can get something out of it for yourself.'
Something was obviously wrong with Paris, and for some inexplicable reason, other than his stubbornness, Chakotay was determined he would find out what and help the young pilot, even if it killed them both.
*****
What the hell am I doing? Chakotay thought to himself as he made his way to Paris' quarters, he had decided it was best to start in a territory familiar with Paris. But he didn't have to be on his way to see Paris, he could be having a drink, in the holodeck, or even getting some work done, but no. He had insisted that he counsel, *counsel*, Tom Paris. And he knew that Paris wouldn't thank him for it, oh no, far from it. Despite his perfect display of a Starfleet officer on the bridge today, he had almost been able to feel the waves of animosity emitting from the pilot. But perhaps the most disturbing of all was the lack of Paris humour on the bridge, despite it being irritating and usually directed at him, its absence was disquieting. He hadn't cracked any jokes, or turned round and flashed that cocky grin of his, or even given that infuriating look of mock disappointment whilst he pouted those lips...
Whoa! Where the hell had that come from?
But, of course, he knew where that had come from. Okay...he thought as he continued down the corridor...so I find him eye-catching, and so what? Who doesn't, he's damn near the most attractive, good-looking man on this ship. That doesn't stop him being the most annoying and arrogant man who needs taking down a notch, or two, or three, at the same time.
But yet, he was standing outside his quarters, pressing the chime and probably about to receive a barrage of abuse, all to help this 'annoying and arrogant' man. And when he tried to work out why his mind supplied the image from that morning, of Paris caught up in terror with a look of pain twisting his features. Chakotay suppressed a shiver as he gave up on trying to get it all sorted out in his head, and instead focussed his mind on the task ahead as he heard Tom's call to enter.
"Good evening, Commander, would you like a drink?" Paris asked, standing in the middle of the room, facing him as he entered.
Formal. So this is how it's going to be, is it?
"Chakotay."
"Excuse me, sir?" Paris seemed a little confused.
"You can call me Chakotay when we're off duty."
"With all due respect, sir, this is no social visit." He replied in clipped tones.
"Well, seeing as I'm an unofficial counsellor, I guess this is an unofficial visit." Chakotay could almost see Paris biting back a hasty reply. He wished that he could see past that damned mask of aloofness, even just for a moment.
"Won't you sit down?" Apparently, Paris hadn't been able to keep an edge of sarcasm from his voice.
"Thank you." Chakotay ignored the tone of Paris' voice and took a seat opposite the sofa that Paris had just settled back in with a carefully executed, confident pose. After a moment of contemplating Chakotay, he asked with a voice, louder than his normal easygoing tone, tainted with barely controlled anger,
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
At last! The quiet coolness had been starting to get to Chakotay...
"The Captain..."
"The Captain acted on your recommendation."
"Paris, what I saw this morning..."
"Was one slip. The Captain said it herself this morning; I've coped just fine up until now, but I make one slip, and all of a sudden I'm 'distressed' and need counselling! It's ridiculous! Do you jump every time someone has a nightmare? Because if you do, you must be a very busy man." Paris was shouting by now, despite the calm he had tried to convey earlier.
"We both know it's more than that, Paris. You've been suffering from them all the years that I've been going on away missions with you."
"It's nothing! I'm sorry if I've bothered you, really I am, but they're just stupid, pathetic, childish nightmares." Paris had got up and was pacing the length of the sofa. Finally he made his way over to the view- port and looked out at the countless stars, so turning his back on Chakotay.
"Well, it was serious enough this morning to make you cry out in pain. You were in *pain*, Tom, I can't just ignore that."
Tom turned round, with a mocking laugh. "Oh, I see. I'd wondered why you'd go through all this for me, why you seemed concerned about me, but it's not about me, is it? It's about your conscience."
"That's unfair Paris."
"Is it? I don't think so. You're just the same as all the rest, only deem yourself worthy of coming into contact with me if you can get something out of it for yourself." All traces of laughter had gone. Instead he had spoken with hurt and disdain. He turned back to the stars, "I think perhaps you should go."
Chakotay knew he would not get anything from the man now, so he stood, saying, "I'll see you tomorrow." And left.
He knew he shouldn't have bothered, he knew he should have just left it, but as he strode back to his own quarters, Paris' last statement kept playing back in his mind,
'You're just the same as all the rest, only deem yourself worthy of coming into contact with me if you can get something out of it for yourself.'
Something was obviously wrong with Paris, and for some inexplicable reason, other than his stubbornness, Chakotay was determined he would find out what and help the young pilot, even if it killed them both.