Disclaimer in Chapter 1.
Thanks to Starby, Dasia, Ann for the betas on this chapter.
Dedicated to Harmonic convergence.
Chapter 2
B'Elanna Torres hated bars. She hated the cloak and dagger work that required her to accompany Chakotay into bars. He was always looking for leads on new ways of getting to the heart of Cardassia, new weapons for his freedom fighters or codes to intercept. His mission in life was to defeat the Cardassians, single-handedly if necessary. She recognized the importance of that mission but she was tired of fighting and rebuilding ships that the Cardassians had tried to destroy. She was tired of running and hiding and eating in seedy, out-of-the-way places.
Looking around though, she was willing to concede that this place was different. It was still filled with refugees but they didn't have the hopeless look of so many. There was music and laughter in spite of the dark shadows.
A woman was singing in a clear voice and the song was familiar. She'd heard it before and it was clearly from Earth, 20th century Earth if she wasn't mistaken. A curious choice on a planet 200 light years away. The singer was hidden behind the support beams but B'Elanna could almost see the piano player if she stretched her neck just a...
"I'm going to go get our drinks since the waiters seem busy. Maybe I can see our contact. I'll be right back." Chakotay's words interrupted her quest and she returned her attention to him. He didn't ask her what she would like, he assumed he knew since he 'knew' her so well. With a smile he left her alone, not noticing that the smile was not returned.
The music continued and B'Elanna finally stood up to get a closer look just as the song ended. To her surprise she found herself looking straight at Voyager's Doctor and Seven of Nine. Neither one seemed happy to see her but that didn't deter her from closing the distance between them. "Doctor, Seven," she began, "I had no idea you were even in this part of the galaxy. How are you?"
"Well, Lt. Torres. This is quite a surprise. We had no idea you were in the area either. It seems you've been keeping some familiar company." The doctor's reply was almost haughty.
"We're still with the Maquis, if that's what you mean. We're still trying to make a difference. At least the Federation has finally recognized that the Cardassians are enemies of all of us." B'Elanna rejoined defensively. "What are you doing here?"
"We are employed by ... this establishment, as the entertainment." B'Elanna had thought no one could equal the doctor in arrogance, but now she recalled that Seven had been gifted in that area also.
"Oh. well. I'm glad to see you. I didn't know you'd left DS 9. Were you there long?" B'Elanna asked. She surreptitiously looked around to see anyone else that she knew.
Seven began to answer, "We were able to escape before Starfleet began to use us for experimental purposes. To... umph! Why did you strike me, doctor?"
"I would never strike you, Seven. We just don't want to keep the crowd waiting while we visit. Our break isn't for half an hour yet. Will you be around a while, Lieutenant?" The doctor's words were frantically fast, fast enough to raise B'Elanna's suspicions.
"I'm not a lieutenant any more, Doctor. I'm just an engineer and I don't know how long we'll be here. That depends on Chakotay." She felt herself blushing at the mention of Chakotay's name.
"I see," mumbled the doctor. "Well, Seven, we'd best get on with the show," he admonished cheerfully. "Is there anything in particular you'd like to hear, Lieu... I mean, B'Elanna?"
Despite knowing they were hiding something, B'Elanna was glad to see her old shipmates. She gave the doctor's offer some thought and smiled faintly, "Yes, there is. It's an old one, from the 21st century, 'One More Day' is the name of it, I think."
If holograms could sputter, this one was sputtering. "I... ah... I don't believe we know that one, do we, Seven?"
"On the contrary, Doctor, you sang it just last week. It is quite a nice song but it doesn't fit in with the Broadway theme we have this week," Seven reminded him.
"Well, then I guess we just can't do it... "
"I see no harm in changing the program to accommodate an old shipmate. I will sit with B'Elanna Torres while you perform this number." Ignoring the doctor's obvious discomfort, Seven moved to a table close by. If looks could kill the galaxy would have one less musical Borg right about then.
B'Elanna was confused as she turned to join her former nemesis but a vise- like grip on her wrist detained her. "Leave him alone, B'Elanna," the doctor said softly. "Don't do this to him again."
"I don't know what you mean," she parried defensively.
The doctor gave her a long look and released her. Sighing deeply, he began to sing in a clear baritone,
"Last night I had a crazy dream... A wish was granted just for me It could be for anything I didn't ask for money Or a mansion in Malibu I simply wished for one more day with you!
One more day, one more time..."
The irate proprietor interrupted the doctor's song. "Doc, I thought I told you I didn't want to hear that particular song again." Tom's voice was sharp as he strode smoothly over to the piano. Doc answered him with a glance over his shoulder causing Tom to stop and turn. He was looking at B'Elanna again. She was in his bar. She was alive, and she was here, and he was speechless.
In that long moment the only one capable of speech seemed to be Chakotay. He walked over to the group and quickly put his arm around B'Elanna's shoulders, staking his claim. "Well, isn't this a surprise. It's been a while since we've run into any old shipmates, hasn't it, B'Elanna? What are you doing in this hellhole?"
No one could think of a reply. Tom and B'Elanna were staring at each other, Doc and Seven were glaring at Chakotay and Neelix felt like a diversion was needed, quickly. "Sit down, Commander, and Lt. Torres. This is a surprise. Let me get you something to drink. What would you like?"
Chakotay answered without taking his eyes off Tom, "I've already given our order to the bartender."
"Well, I'll just go get it. And Tom, I'll bring you another cup of coffee. Anything for you, Seven... no, I guess not." Neelix had started to bustle off when Tom caught his arm.
"Forget the coffee, Neelix, just bring me a Romulan ale. I'll share a table with the old gang." Tom's tone was sarcastic as he seated himself next to Seven. Chakotay and B'Elanna had no choice but to sit also. Chakotay carefully placed himself between Tom and B'Elanna.
Neelix looked shocked and worried at Tom's request. It had been months since Tom had had anything stronger than coffee and he didn't think now would be a good time to start drinking again. He opened his mouth to speak but a glare from Tom reminded the diminutive Talaxian where his paycheck came from. Silently he returned to the bar.
Chakotay wasn't there for the drinks or the atmosphere. He was there for one purpose only and he came to the point quickly. "Maybe you can help me, Tom. I'm looking for a Bolian. He has some information that I need and said he'd meet me here."
"Was his name Chiff?" Tom asked.
"Yes, yes, I believe that's his name." Chakotay hedged.
"Well, he can't even help himself right now. Starfleet arrested him half an hour ago." Tom's answer was curt.
Neelix had heard the question and answer while he was delivering the drinks to the table. "What did you need to see Chiff for, Commander?" he asked.
"Nothing, really, he was just going to get some information for me."
"Still fighting your war, Chakotay?" Tom asked bitterly.
"I'm fighting for justice, Paris. It's not my war, it's all of ours, and I intend to do everything I can to defeat the Cardassians."
"Well, I'll tell you what I told the Starfleet people, Chakotay. Keep your war out of my bar. I'm in the business of selling drinks and dreams to the drinkers. I don't deal in illegal goods." His eyes were angry, and the blue had turned to cobalt.
Chakotay was not to be deterred though, "Do you know where he's being held? I need to talk to him."
"Like I said, I'm an honest merchant. You'll have to talk to Starfleet about seeing Chiff, if he's still alive." Tom answered briefly, and with practiced indifference changed the subject with his eyes back on B'Elanna. "What have you been up to for the last year?"
Again it was Chakotay who answered, as B'Elanna sat beside him watching Tom cautiously and saying nothing. "We've been fighting for the rights of the people the Cardassians had oppressed. And now we're trying to find ways to fight the Dominion too."
Tom drug his eyes away from B'Elanna to look at his former commander again. His answer was cold, "Like I said, it's not my fight. We try to stay neutral here. The Federation and the Cardassians leave us alone."
"And the Dominion?"
"They haven't bothered us so far."
"Sold out again, haven't you, Paris?"
Tom could feel his anger rising as he answered, "I've just found my niche and plan on living a long, happy life in my own bar on a neutral planet. Sorry, I can't help you. Seven, why don't you give these people another song while I go check on my profits." He stood to leave with a final glance at B'Elanna, furtively searching her face for some sign of recognition.
B'Elanna was searching also, and only found a cold, hard edge. This bitter man was a far cry from the cocky pilot she'd once known... and loved.
*** Chakotay and B'Elanna returned to their bleak hotel room. No words had passed between them since they'd left the bar. There was a message waiting for them on the ancient terminal: Neelix would like to visit some more with the Commander and talk about the old days on Voyager, particularly the time they'd spent together in the music conservatory practicing "Night bird." Chakotay recognized Tom Riker's Maquis cell code and responded accordingly, setting up the meeting.
B'Elanna stood facing the window, arms crossed, surveying the scene on the quiet street below. As he watched her reflection in the window Chakotay tried to read her expression. He'd expected to find Tom Paris here, but hadn't shared that information with her. B'Elanna had been reticent about her relationship with Tom, and Chakotay suspected that there was a great deal that she wasn't sharing with him. Moving behind her he put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her gently toward him. "Seeing so many people from Voyager was quite a surprise, wasn't it?"
Her only answer was a nod so he tried again. "I guess Paris has landed on his feet as usual. First Janeway pulls him out of prison, then Starfleet pardons him, and now he owns his own bar. He certainly knows how to take care of himself." He had pulled her against his chest in a warm gesture of caring but her shoulders remained tense and her spine rigid.
"He takes care of Neelix, Seven and the Doctor too, it seems." It was the first words she'd spoken since the encounter.
"B'Elanna," Chakotay began carefully as he gently massaged her shoulders, "is there anything you want to tell me about your relationship with Paris? Anything that might explain his attitude?"
"No, there's nothing. We were friends. I didn't have a lot of friends on Voyager, and Tom was willing to take the risk. That's all," she lied as she turned sharply away from his touch. .
"It's okay. I mean I'd understand if it was more but if you say you were just friends, that's good enough for me." He gave her a long look as he mumbled the words but her face was inscrutable. With a sigh he added, "I've got to go and meet the local Maquis. Will you be all right here alone?"
B'Elanna looked at him in mild surprise. Her welfare was seldom his concern, at least not outwardly. She knew he cared about her, but his mission came before all personal considerations. "I'm fine, Chakotay. Go to your secret meeting," she urged, "and be careful."
"I will," he smiled as he gave her cheek a swift kiss, and departed.
Watching as he crossed the street below her window, B'Elanna made a quick decision.
*** Tom Paris was sitting alone at a table in the darkened establishment. He had a bottle of Terran Scotch in front of him, the real thing, and it was half-empty. He stared at his glass and listened as the doctor closed the antiquated piano and placed the bench on top of it.
"Tom," the doctor began, "as your physician and friend, I would like to say that I think you need a vacation. Why don't you take Neelix and head for that little oasis inland? I hear there's some good fishing there."
"I don't fish," was the surly reply.
"Well, there's bound to be other recreational activities, probably not a golf course, but maybe some caves for exploring." he regretted the words the minute they were out of his mouth.
"No, thanks, Doc. I've had enough caves to last me a lifetime."
"It's well past 0200. Why don't I finish the nightly receipts for you so you can go to bed," the doc offered helpfully.
"I'm not tired. Why don't you go to bed?"
"I'm a hologram. Holograms don't get tired."
"Then shut up and play," Tom murmured. "Play 'One More Day'. If she can take it, so can I," he added bitterly.
"I don't think that's a very good idea."
"Then don't play, just get the hell out."
"Getting angry with me is not going to solve your problem." The doctor had resumed his lecturing tone.
Tom slammed his fist into the table and his voice held pain as he said, "Of all the gin joints on all the planets in all the universe, she has to walk into mine."
The doctor answered unsympathetically, "Self pity is not a particularly helpful approach to the problem. I suggest that you get some sleep and see how the situation looks in the morning."
"No, she's coming back, I know she's coming back."
"I am quite sure Miss Torres is safely tucked in bed by now and has no intention of endangering herself by walking the streets of Grethor late at night."
As he said these words the door of the bar opened to reveal the object of their conversation. The doctor looked back and forth between the two and with a sigh made his way to Tom's office at the back of the establishment. Under his breath he was grumbling, "Well, someone better do the damn books and it won't be me. I'm a musician not a calculator."
After watching the hologram stalk out, B'Elanna took a seat across from Tom taking in the half-empty bottle and the red, blurred eyes. She struggled to find the words to reach him but, as usual, went straight to the point. "Tom," she began, "do you have the information that Chakotay needs?"
"B'Elanna, my beautiful B'Elanna," he slurred, "all you want is my information. You don't want me any more?"
She was irritated to find him drunk but she needed to know the answer so she calmly persisted, "Tom, listen to me. We. Chakotay and I. the Maquis. are trying to turn this war with the Dominion to Starfleet's favor. We need those codes to get inside the Cardassian borders. We're not the mercenaries that Starfleet is making us out to be. We're fighting for a cause. It used to be your cause too. Can't you see that helping defeat the Cardassians is going to make the galaxy a better place for all of us?"
"You've become very idealistic, B'Elanna. Do you ever think of Voyager?"
Surprised at the abrupt change of subject, B'Elanna answered slowly, "Yes, almost every day. We tried to live up to the Federation's ideals while we were in the Delta quadrant. But the Federation isn't the same, Tom. They're not interested in protecting other people's rights anymore. They're just interested in protecting themselves. When people were losing their homeworlds to the Cardassians, the Federation didn't care, and once the Dominion is defeated they won't care again. Please help us get the codes. They're only going to be good for a short time, and we can make a difference if we can get to the heart of Cardassia."
"I didn't ask you about the Federation, B'Elanna. I asked you about Voyager."
"Look, Tom," she growled impatiently, "I don't have time to reminisce about out little jaunt through the Delta Quadrant. I have a war to win."
Even intoxicated, Tom's voice was cold, "Well leave me out of it."
B'Elanna was shocked and sat back to stare at him, "I don't know you at all anymore. You used to have ideals; you kept them hidden but I know you had them."
"I can't afford to have ideals. I have a bar to run and several employees who depend on me to keep it running."
Surprised, B'Elanna wondered again where the man she knew on Voyager had gone. This man was a bitter shadow of the cocky pilot who had captured her heart. no, she wouldn't go there. Hearts had no place in this world of war.
"I guess I didn't know you after all. I thought I did but I was wrong. Good night, Tom." She left silently. And he allowed her to go.
Thanks to Starby, Dasia, Ann for the betas on this chapter.
Dedicated to Harmonic convergence.
Chapter 2
B'Elanna Torres hated bars. She hated the cloak and dagger work that required her to accompany Chakotay into bars. He was always looking for leads on new ways of getting to the heart of Cardassia, new weapons for his freedom fighters or codes to intercept. His mission in life was to defeat the Cardassians, single-handedly if necessary. She recognized the importance of that mission but she was tired of fighting and rebuilding ships that the Cardassians had tried to destroy. She was tired of running and hiding and eating in seedy, out-of-the-way places.
Looking around though, she was willing to concede that this place was different. It was still filled with refugees but they didn't have the hopeless look of so many. There was music and laughter in spite of the dark shadows.
A woman was singing in a clear voice and the song was familiar. She'd heard it before and it was clearly from Earth, 20th century Earth if she wasn't mistaken. A curious choice on a planet 200 light years away. The singer was hidden behind the support beams but B'Elanna could almost see the piano player if she stretched her neck just a...
"I'm going to go get our drinks since the waiters seem busy. Maybe I can see our contact. I'll be right back." Chakotay's words interrupted her quest and she returned her attention to him. He didn't ask her what she would like, he assumed he knew since he 'knew' her so well. With a smile he left her alone, not noticing that the smile was not returned.
The music continued and B'Elanna finally stood up to get a closer look just as the song ended. To her surprise she found herself looking straight at Voyager's Doctor and Seven of Nine. Neither one seemed happy to see her but that didn't deter her from closing the distance between them. "Doctor, Seven," she began, "I had no idea you were even in this part of the galaxy. How are you?"
"Well, Lt. Torres. This is quite a surprise. We had no idea you were in the area either. It seems you've been keeping some familiar company." The doctor's reply was almost haughty.
"We're still with the Maquis, if that's what you mean. We're still trying to make a difference. At least the Federation has finally recognized that the Cardassians are enemies of all of us." B'Elanna rejoined defensively. "What are you doing here?"
"We are employed by ... this establishment, as the entertainment." B'Elanna had thought no one could equal the doctor in arrogance, but now she recalled that Seven had been gifted in that area also.
"Oh. well. I'm glad to see you. I didn't know you'd left DS 9. Were you there long?" B'Elanna asked. She surreptitiously looked around to see anyone else that she knew.
Seven began to answer, "We were able to escape before Starfleet began to use us for experimental purposes. To... umph! Why did you strike me, doctor?"
"I would never strike you, Seven. We just don't want to keep the crowd waiting while we visit. Our break isn't for half an hour yet. Will you be around a while, Lieutenant?" The doctor's words were frantically fast, fast enough to raise B'Elanna's suspicions.
"I'm not a lieutenant any more, Doctor. I'm just an engineer and I don't know how long we'll be here. That depends on Chakotay." She felt herself blushing at the mention of Chakotay's name.
"I see," mumbled the doctor. "Well, Seven, we'd best get on with the show," he admonished cheerfully. "Is there anything in particular you'd like to hear, Lieu... I mean, B'Elanna?"
Despite knowing they were hiding something, B'Elanna was glad to see her old shipmates. She gave the doctor's offer some thought and smiled faintly, "Yes, there is. It's an old one, from the 21st century, 'One More Day' is the name of it, I think."
If holograms could sputter, this one was sputtering. "I... ah... I don't believe we know that one, do we, Seven?"
"On the contrary, Doctor, you sang it just last week. It is quite a nice song but it doesn't fit in with the Broadway theme we have this week," Seven reminded him.
"Well, then I guess we just can't do it... "
"I see no harm in changing the program to accommodate an old shipmate. I will sit with B'Elanna Torres while you perform this number." Ignoring the doctor's obvious discomfort, Seven moved to a table close by. If looks could kill the galaxy would have one less musical Borg right about then.
B'Elanna was confused as she turned to join her former nemesis but a vise- like grip on her wrist detained her. "Leave him alone, B'Elanna," the doctor said softly. "Don't do this to him again."
"I don't know what you mean," she parried defensively.
The doctor gave her a long look and released her. Sighing deeply, he began to sing in a clear baritone,
"Last night I had a crazy dream... A wish was granted just for me It could be for anything I didn't ask for money Or a mansion in Malibu I simply wished for one more day with you!
One more day, one more time..."
The irate proprietor interrupted the doctor's song. "Doc, I thought I told you I didn't want to hear that particular song again." Tom's voice was sharp as he strode smoothly over to the piano. Doc answered him with a glance over his shoulder causing Tom to stop and turn. He was looking at B'Elanna again. She was in his bar. She was alive, and she was here, and he was speechless.
In that long moment the only one capable of speech seemed to be Chakotay. He walked over to the group and quickly put his arm around B'Elanna's shoulders, staking his claim. "Well, isn't this a surprise. It's been a while since we've run into any old shipmates, hasn't it, B'Elanna? What are you doing in this hellhole?"
No one could think of a reply. Tom and B'Elanna were staring at each other, Doc and Seven were glaring at Chakotay and Neelix felt like a diversion was needed, quickly. "Sit down, Commander, and Lt. Torres. This is a surprise. Let me get you something to drink. What would you like?"
Chakotay answered without taking his eyes off Tom, "I've already given our order to the bartender."
"Well, I'll just go get it. And Tom, I'll bring you another cup of coffee. Anything for you, Seven... no, I guess not." Neelix had started to bustle off when Tom caught his arm.
"Forget the coffee, Neelix, just bring me a Romulan ale. I'll share a table with the old gang." Tom's tone was sarcastic as he seated himself next to Seven. Chakotay and B'Elanna had no choice but to sit also. Chakotay carefully placed himself between Tom and B'Elanna.
Neelix looked shocked and worried at Tom's request. It had been months since Tom had had anything stronger than coffee and he didn't think now would be a good time to start drinking again. He opened his mouth to speak but a glare from Tom reminded the diminutive Talaxian where his paycheck came from. Silently he returned to the bar.
Chakotay wasn't there for the drinks or the atmosphere. He was there for one purpose only and he came to the point quickly. "Maybe you can help me, Tom. I'm looking for a Bolian. He has some information that I need and said he'd meet me here."
"Was his name Chiff?" Tom asked.
"Yes, yes, I believe that's his name." Chakotay hedged.
"Well, he can't even help himself right now. Starfleet arrested him half an hour ago." Tom's answer was curt.
Neelix had heard the question and answer while he was delivering the drinks to the table. "What did you need to see Chiff for, Commander?" he asked.
"Nothing, really, he was just going to get some information for me."
"Still fighting your war, Chakotay?" Tom asked bitterly.
"I'm fighting for justice, Paris. It's not my war, it's all of ours, and I intend to do everything I can to defeat the Cardassians."
"Well, I'll tell you what I told the Starfleet people, Chakotay. Keep your war out of my bar. I'm in the business of selling drinks and dreams to the drinkers. I don't deal in illegal goods." His eyes were angry, and the blue had turned to cobalt.
Chakotay was not to be deterred though, "Do you know where he's being held? I need to talk to him."
"Like I said, I'm an honest merchant. You'll have to talk to Starfleet about seeing Chiff, if he's still alive." Tom answered briefly, and with practiced indifference changed the subject with his eyes back on B'Elanna. "What have you been up to for the last year?"
Again it was Chakotay who answered, as B'Elanna sat beside him watching Tom cautiously and saying nothing. "We've been fighting for the rights of the people the Cardassians had oppressed. And now we're trying to find ways to fight the Dominion too."
Tom drug his eyes away from B'Elanna to look at his former commander again. His answer was cold, "Like I said, it's not my fight. We try to stay neutral here. The Federation and the Cardassians leave us alone."
"And the Dominion?"
"They haven't bothered us so far."
"Sold out again, haven't you, Paris?"
Tom could feel his anger rising as he answered, "I've just found my niche and plan on living a long, happy life in my own bar on a neutral planet. Sorry, I can't help you. Seven, why don't you give these people another song while I go check on my profits." He stood to leave with a final glance at B'Elanna, furtively searching her face for some sign of recognition.
B'Elanna was searching also, and only found a cold, hard edge. This bitter man was a far cry from the cocky pilot she'd once known... and loved.
*** Chakotay and B'Elanna returned to their bleak hotel room. No words had passed between them since they'd left the bar. There was a message waiting for them on the ancient terminal: Neelix would like to visit some more with the Commander and talk about the old days on Voyager, particularly the time they'd spent together in the music conservatory practicing "Night bird." Chakotay recognized Tom Riker's Maquis cell code and responded accordingly, setting up the meeting.
B'Elanna stood facing the window, arms crossed, surveying the scene on the quiet street below. As he watched her reflection in the window Chakotay tried to read her expression. He'd expected to find Tom Paris here, but hadn't shared that information with her. B'Elanna had been reticent about her relationship with Tom, and Chakotay suspected that there was a great deal that she wasn't sharing with him. Moving behind her he put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her gently toward him. "Seeing so many people from Voyager was quite a surprise, wasn't it?"
Her only answer was a nod so he tried again. "I guess Paris has landed on his feet as usual. First Janeway pulls him out of prison, then Starfleet pardons him, and now he owns his own bar. He certainly knows how to take care of himself." He had pulled her against his chest in a warm gesture of caring but her shoulders remained tense and her spine rigid.
"He takes care of Neelix, Seven and the Doctor too, it seems." It was the first words she'd spoken since the encounter.
"B'Elanna," Chakotay began carefully as he gently massaged her shoulders, "is there anything you want to tell me about your relationship with Paris? Anything that might explain his attitude?"
"No, there's nothing. We were friends. I didn't have a lot of friends on Voyager, and Tom was willing to take the risk. That's all," she lied as she turned sharply away from his touch. .
"It's okay. I mean I'd understand if it was more but if you say you were just friends, that's good enough for me." He gave her a long look as he mumbled the words but her face was inscrutable. With a sigh he added, "I've got to go and meet the local Maquis. Will you be all right here alone?"
B'Elanna looked at him in mild surprise. Her welfare was seldom his concern, at least not outwardly. She knew he cared about her, but his mission came before all personal considerations. "I'm fine, Chakotay. Go to your secret meeting," she urged, "and be careful."
"I will," he smiled as he gave her cheek a swift kiss, and departed.
Watching as he crossed the street below her window, B'Elanna made a quick decision.
*** Tom Paris was sitting alone at a table in the darkened establishment. He had a bottle of Terran Scotch in front of him, the real thing, and it was half-empty. He stared at his glass and listened as the doctor closed the antiquated piano and placed the bench on top of it.
"Tom," the doctor began, "as your physician and friend, I would like to say that I think you need a vacation. Why don't you take Neelix and head for that little oasis inland? I hear there's some good fishing there."
"I don't fish," was the surly reply.
"Well, there's bound to be other recreational activities, probably not a golf course, but maybe some caves for exploring." he regretted the words the minute they were out of his mouth.
"No, thanks, Doc. I've had enough caves to last me a lifetime."
"It's well past 0200. Why don't I finish the nightly receipts for you so you can go to bed," the doc offered helpfully.
"I'm not tired. Why don't you go to bed?"
"I'm a hologram. Holograms don't get tired."
"Then shut up and play," Tom murmured. "Play 'One More Day'. If she can take it, so can I," he added bitterly.
"I don't think that's a very good idea."
"Then don't play, just get the hell out."
"Getting angry with me is not going to solve your problem." The doctor had resumed his lecturing tone.
Tom slammed his fist into the table and his voice held pain as he said, "Of all the gin joints on all the planets in all the universe, she has to walk into mine."
The doctor answered unsympathetically, "Self pity is not a particularly helpful approach to the problem. I suggest that you get some sleep and see how the situation looks in the morning."
"No, she's coming back, I know she's coming back."
"I am quite sure Miss Torres is safely tucked in bed by now and has no intention of endangering herself by walking the streets of Grethor late at night."
As he said these words the door of the bar opened to reveal the object of their conversation. The doctor looked back and forth between the two and with a sigh made his way to Tom's office at the back of the establishment. Under his breath he was grumbling, "Well, someone better do the damn books and it won't be me. I'm a musician not a calculator."
After watching the hologram stalk out, B'Elanna took a seat across from Tom taking in the half-empty bottle and the red, blurred eyes. She struggled to find the words to reach him but, as usual, went straight to the point. "Tom," she began, "do you have the information that Chakotay needs?"
"B'Elanna, my beautiful B'Elanna," he slurred, "all you want is my information. You don't want me any more?"
She was irritated to find him drunk but she needed to know the answer so she calmly persisted, "Tom, listen to me. We. Chakotay and I. the Maquis. are trying to turn this war with the Dominion to Starfleet's favor. We need those codes to get inside the Cardassian borders. We're not the mercenaries that Starfleet is making us out to be. We're fighting for a cause. It used to be your cause too. Can't you see that helping defeat the Cardassians is going to make the galaxy a better place for all of us?"
"You've become very idealistic, B'Elanna. Do you ever think of Voyager?"
Surprised at the abrupt change of subject, B'Elanna answered slowly, "Yes, almost every day. We tried to live up to the Federation's ideals while we were in the Delta quadrant. But the Federation isn't the same, Tom. They're not interested in protecting other people's rights anymore. They're just interested in protecting themselves. When people were losing their homeworlds to the Cardassians, the Federation didn't care, and once the Dominion is defeated they won't care again. Please help us get the codes. They're only going to be good for a short time, and we can make a difference if we can get to the heart of Cardassia."
"I didn't ask you about the Federation, B'Elanna. I asked you about Voyager."
"Look, Tom," she growled impatiently, "I don't have time to reminisce about out little jaunt through the Delta Quadrant. I have a war to win."
Even intoxicated, Tom's voice was cold, "Well leave me out of it."
B'Elanna was shocked and sat back to stare at him, "I don't know you at all anymore. You used to have ideals; you kept them hidden but I know you had them."
"I can't afford to have ideals. I have a bar to run and several employees who depend on me to keep it running."
Surprised, B'Elanna wondered again where the man she knew on Voyager had gone. This man was a bitter shadow of the cocky pilot who had captured her heart. no, she wouldn't go there. Hearts had no place in this world of war.
"I guess I didn't know you after all. I thought I did but I was wrong. Good night, Tom." She left silently. And he allowed her to go.