"Paris." He stopped dead in his tracks and held his back stiff, not turning around to face his caller. Choosing to wait and see what he wanted. "The next time you decide to mimic a hero you better make sure you watch who you make a fool of. I will not have you disrespecting Chakotay's name again." Ah, so that was what this was about. Tom contained a sigh and turned around, levelling his gaze with Simonion, one of the 'former' Maquis.
"I'm flattered you'd call my assignment an act of heroism and I'm glad you appreciate your own likelihood enough to thank me for saving it." Simonion glared at the twist of his threatening words and Tom took a step closer, using his height to full advantage. "As for my actions towards the Commander, I believe those were explained in great detail and a formal apology was made."
"I don't give a damn about your flake apology Paris. I am not the only one who doesn't like you being here, and we won't tolerate you disrespecting our ways."
"What are your ways ensign? Because as I last recall you were an acting member of Starfleet. If there was a mutiny while I was gone I think I'd know about it." He cocked his head slightly. "Or perhaps it's still in the plan book waiting for the perfect opportunity to be put into play." Simonion's face paled in shock at the accusation.
"Mutiny? I. No! I'm not planning one! No one is! It's crazy! You-" Tom grabbed the front of the suddenly stuttering mans uniform and roughly pushed him against the corridors wall, moving right into his face.
"I'm perfectly aware there is no mutiny ensign, what I'm not so sure of is why the hell you ex-maquis" he hissed their title as an insult, "believe that I am still below your level." He put a little more pressure on the mans chest and then released him. "You will get your insubordinate attitude under check or I will make sure the floor is wiped with your ass. Do you understand me ensign Simonion?" Tom glared at the tanned being, whose eyes showed shock at the treatment. Then the shock disappeared and he straightened, angrily gazing back.
"Yes sir."
"Good. Dismissed." Tom ordered and the man angrily stalked away. Heading again in the direction of his quarters Tom kept his features stony and most people steered clear of him, unfortunately not all.
"Lieutenant." The order was sharply barked and this time he turned to greet his commanding officer, someone he'd managed to avoid the last day and a half, too bad it wasn't longer.
"Commander Chakotay. What can I do for you?" The mans dark eyes quirked at the defensiveness in Tom's voice, immediately coming to the realization that this conversation probably wouldn't end in a civil way. Yet it seemed most of their conversations were less than stellar in the good attitude area.
"Answer a couple of questions."
"No problem." Was the guarded reply and it was as if a few more mental shields were tossed up behind the cocky mans eyes as he waited for the onslaught.
"Not here. My quarters okay with you?" This time the hesitancy was obvious, especially in the reply.
"Not if your planning revenge for the insults I've been hurtling at you the last while." The weak joke fell flat.
"I'm a commanding officer, I get revenge in more subtle ways." It didn't drop Tom's defences in the slightest but a moment later they were standing in Chakotay's home.
"Would you like a drink?"
"No thank you." Was the instant reply. It was with sad regret that Chakotay realized Tom still refused to accept drinks from him. When they first started as a crew Chakotay had thought that it was another little animosity act directed at him from the arrogant pilot and he had taken offence every time the slight attempt of kinship was declined. It had actually taken several months for him to notice that the only people he accepted drinks or even food from was Harry, the Captain, Neelix, or Kes. It appeared that over time he hadn't changed his ways and Chakotay was always caught up wondering why.
Now, after the scene in the gym the day before, Chakotay was starting to piece things together. The problem was that as bad as it made him feel he couldn't trust Tom enough to believe the marking on his back was really from CianKa Adasta. After Tom's two betrayals to the Maquis and more personally to Chakotay, the commander couldn't be sure if the marking was some kind of elaborate ruse to gain their trust, a set up that was so obvious it was insulting. Chakotay didn't know what to believe, so for now he was going to play it safe.
"Care to sit down?" He carefully watched Tom consider and then accept the offered chair at the bare table. Chakotay didn't get himself a drink as he sat across from the man and he allowed himself a moment to take a good look at him. The hair was slightly disarrayed, the bags under his eyes more noticeable when he focused on the pale face and he couldn't help but worry if the pilot had been getting enough sleep.
He was still angry with Paris for the harsh attitude that had been directed at him since the undercover assignment began, but he understood that it had been necessary once everything had been explained. The anger was really situated around how much joy the younger man had appeared to have from the act. The other day in the gym, seeing Tom hit that punching bag with such primal power had sent Chakotay's instincts on wary. Unfortunately they hadn't been fast enough and he'd disturbed Tom. It had shocked him, no that was lying, it had scared him. Tom Paris had scared him because for a moment there, pinned against that wall with the arm across his neck he had realised exactly how dangerous Paris could be. He wasn't even prepared and he could have died. He had lost control over the situation and he didn't even know how.
Now he needed to speak with Paris, see if he could sort some things out, formulate some truths and find out where they stood with each other. That as well as Kes expressing concern for the younger man's well being had edged him into playing counsellor.
He didn't think it was going to do any good.
"How are you feeling?" For a brief moment he was privy to a look of shock from the pilot's face before it was covered with a smooth and easy reply.
"Fine, now that I'm back a the wheel."
"Must have been tough being away."
"I survived."
"I know, what I don't know is how close you came to not surviving. Care to enlighten me?"
"It's all in the Captain's report Commander."
"I'd like the uncensored bit please."
"Chakotay." Tom sighed, realising what Chakotay was doing. "I'm really not feeling up to this right now. Maybe next year when you can stand the sight of me we'll talk again." Now it was Chakotay's turn to pause a moment in surprise. Did Tom really believe that he hated him that much? Had he shunned him that completely?
"There's a problem with that. Next year you'll have other things to resolve and we'll never get to the bottom of this."
"Well who knows, your people might finish me off before we ever have that chance." A tinge of bitterness edged into the otherwise mocking words. That was good, anger always led somewhere. However Chakotay began to worry about the direction this was going. Was Tom going to begin blaming his problems on the ex-maquis? Chakotay wouldn't put it past him, so he decided to ignore the last comment and move on.
"Did something happen on the Kazon ship that makes you feel like you don't belong here?"
"Chakotay, the last place I belong is here, and trust me I've been well versed in that fact. The Kazon are idiots, don't worry about what happened over there, its all in the report."
"Your report stated that you spoke with Seska." He pointed out and immediately Tom's eyes hardened, narrowing into laser beams of disgust.
"She said hi."
"Did she threaten you?" Tom snorted and stood up, glaring.
"If you're so interested in how she's doing you should have just asked Chakotay. She's fine, great in fact. She's ruling over her little Kazon minions and loving every moment of it. Now that you know how your precious Cardassian is I'll be going. I have an early shift tomorrow and as you've probably guessed I need some sleep." He twisted around and walked with an angry grace, so smooth that the gate could have been described as dangerous. Maybe it was. Chakotay rose to his feet, his stomach churning at the twist of his words and tried to stop the man.
"Paris, we're not through."
"Yes, we are Commander. Goodnight." And he was gone, so fast that Chakotay was still trying to catch up to what was going on. If Paris misinterpreted everything he said like he just had than it was no wonder they hadn't been working over their differences. The man was like an enigma, you think you understand and then boom, something makes you realize that everything you thought was wrong. Then you started worrying that what you were beginning to believe about the individual could be as wrong as the last belief! This was why Paris was the most annoying person Chakotay had ever met! The man wouldn't remain in the same image long enough to be understood. And thinking about all this was beginning to confuse Chakotay himself. To top it off they hadn't even spoken about the marking.
Oh to hell with this! Chakotay stormed to the door. "Computer, locate Lieutenant Paris."
"Lieutenant Paris is in holodeck one." It was time he understood Paris. He wanted answers, he wanted the truth and he wanted to know it now!
Tom hadn't answered Chakotay's request to enter the holodeck so he had stalked in uninvited, looking about the brightly lit park in curiosity. For a moment he stopped his search for the aggravating pilot and admired the surroundings. Chakotay was no fool; he knew how long it took to create a program of this perfection, yet like all of Tom's programs it probably hadn't taken much. The most skilled man at the helm that Chakotay had ever known was also skilled beyond belief in programming. It made him wonder what else Tom knew and wasn't letting on about.
It wasn't large, twenty meters away stood a wooden structure with bright plastic mixed into it. A child, a small girl it sounded like, giggled and ran up a ladder built from rubber circles. Odd. Large trees circled the space, a willow whistling softly in the gentle breeze, green maples standing sturdy along side oak. A nice mixture. There were other holo characters around as well. Two men and a women were playing with the child on the wooden structure, chasing her.
Four others were resting in various places, none talking with each other, just lying on the grass staring at the clouds or reading something from a book. It was so peaceful Chakotay wanted to just go and sit with them, enjoy the calm and easy companionship they seem to have rolling around. One man looked up, he was obviously Bolian from his blue skin, and his eyes narrowed into wary slits. He watched as Chakotay strode past him like he was a threat, an intruder. It made him feel almost guilty, but he ignored it. He had spotted Paris leaning against a solid maple, watching the people on the playground, and in a few long strides he was standing over the man.
"Mind if I join you?" Tom simply shifted over, making room to lean along side him. He just kept watching the group on the playground.
"Mind if I ask where we are?"
"A fictional haven Chakotay." Chakotay blinked. What?
"I'm sorry but I don't quite follow."
"You seemed to have no problems following me here." Despite the negative words there was no real emotion in his voice. It was disconcerting. Tom Paris and anger didn't usually depart so quickly in such a short time.
"I wasn't finished speaking with you." Tom chuckled, finally shifting his eyes to the skyline, a sarcastic little grin covering his face, which knew what it held underneath.
"Nobody ever is." Again Chakotay found himself at a loss for words. Damn it, this man was not helping him at all in this conversation, throwing in sarcastic remarks, changing the conversation with such ease that it took Chakotay a moment to realize his original question had been expertly side stepped. He sighed in exasperation, which drew an amused glance from the pilot.
"Tom!" a high-pitched cry broke out and a little girl stopped in front of them, grinning feral teeth. Bone ridges spreading across her forehead were beginning to mould into their permanent shape on her young and pale features. Her eyes full of spark and a challenge directed towards Paris. "Come play with us. We're going to hunt a Magtar!" Her curls, knotted and un-kept, bounced around her face and she impatiently pushed them away.
"Not today."
"Tom, you never play! I demand it!" She growled, her natural Klingon temper beginning to rise and Chakotay had to grin at her attempt at a glare. Already so trained in the art she would no doubt turn into a demanding woman, drawing many males attention.
"I'm not going to play. Go join Taran and the others. Hunt me a magtar, I demand it." Her eyes lit up in anticipation.
"I will catch the largest one there is!" she beat a tiny fist to her chest then turned and ran off to join the awaiting adults and a boy who had joined the group. Looking at Tom the smile died on his lips at the expression covering his face. Anger, a rage so deep it turned his eyes to an almost crystal glare. And then with one blink the emotion was gone, replaced by the solemn calm of before.
"Why won't you play?"
"What?" Tom finally looked startled and gazed his normal azure eyes on him.
"With the girl. Why don't you join her?" Tom held his gaze a moment and then turned to watch the group, the adults following the child and mimicking her actions. They grinned at each other whenever she wasn't watching, sharing the inside joke of indulgence. It was warming to see, but it didn't appear to bring any pleasure to Tom.
"Chakotay, I am still not in the mood for answering questions."
"Who are these people?" Tom sighed, rubbing his temple tiredly.
"I knew them once."
"Do you know them well?"
"I knew them enough."
"So I take it you aren't really close." Tom chuckled in that little sarcastic manner that made Chakotay want to hit him.
"We're too close Chakotay." Another cryptic answer. Tom suddenly rose and the program shut off, Chakotay blinked in surprise to the sudden change. "I'm actually going to head out and get the sleep I commented on earlier."
"Tom, the mark on your back…" Chakotay let the question hang, waiting for a reply. Tom paused at the door and twisted his head slightly to the side, Chakotay couldn't see his face.
"I don't think we're on a first name basis yet, Commander." And he left.
This time Chakotay didn't follow him. He sat on the holodeck grid floor and thought about what he 'd just learned. Nothing. Tom had a holodeck with people at a playground. He also had one of a bar, a garage, a space flight simulation, and a rather elaborate rock climbing resort if Chakotay had heard correctly. What did it mean?
He'd spoken with Janeway and Tuvok, demanding to know if they knew about Tom's tattoo. They'd looked surprised that he'd asked so heatedly. Tuvok said he didn't know anything about it, Janeway said it was some initiation Tom had undertaken, but she didn't know what. Neither had been concerned and he had decided right then that he wasn't going to open the box any further. The glint of curiosity in their eyes when he left them had told him that they were going to look into it one day, when they had the time. Chakotay sighed and rose from the heat sucking grid and left for his own quarters.
()()()()()
Tom had headed back to his quarters at a brisk pace, adding his long legs to the factor he was there quicker than most would be able to accomplish. As the door slid shut he activated privacy and stood still, eyeballing his quarters carefully. Everything was in place, like he'd left it. He let out a sigh of relief and slowly walked into his room. Hidden away from prying eyes he allowed the exhaustion that plagued him come to the front lines.
His shoulders sagged, his steps seemed to take enormous amounts of energy, and his eyes became hooded, almost closed. He stripped his uniform routinely and sat at the end of his bed, staring at his closed closet door, hiding away his secrets. He was so tired he could feel his skin begging him to lie down but he couldn't tear his eyes from the closet. For five minutes he sat there, thinking.
He hadn't expected Chakotay to follow him to the holodeck or enter it. He supposed the Commander wanted to find some peace about the whole situation that was their relationship. Or perhaps the lack there of it. More likely it was the burnt mark on his back that he wanted to know about. If he even believed it was real. Tom had no delusions that the man would unconditionally believe he was ever a guest at CianKa Adasta. If he had he would have no doubt done something by now, like apologize for his damn annoying "I'm above you" act that everyone on this ship liked to aspire to. Besides that whatever the tattooed man had wanted to find out Tom was fairly certain it continued to elude him. The thing that bothered Tom was that at this moment he didn't care. That was dangerous, and it had been happening to often.
The past two weeks, since his return from Seska's grasp, he'd been falling into moments of nonchalance about everything that involved him and then switching to an almost desperate need to protect himself. Not from the Maquis, quite frankly they'd never scared him, their threats of revenge for his 'traitorous' acts seemed hollow and childish. Starfleet...well lets just say that the only way they currently threatened him was by leaving without proper dismissal when he worked with them, and there was really only three people he could do that too. Hat he needed was protection from himself. He was his own worst enemy, and the Cardassian's had created that. He stood abruptly and moved with a forceful step towards the closet, for a moment his sleep-deprived body was fuelled by an emotional adrenalin rush.
The door opened, the light automatically on, he reached in for the object. He never went fully into his closet. The basic knowledge that the door could shut him in scared him more than he ever cared to think about. God he was a baby sometimes. There, he found it. Pulling the object from under a shoe he stood and went back to the bed. This time sliding under the covers, his item resting on his stomach, one hand propping it up he examined it closely. Every inch of it.
A Magtaur stuffed animal. Black with a red tint to the patches of visible fur. A child's animal. It had belonged to the Klingon girl, before the Cardassians had ended her use of it. However this particular toy was dressed in an oddity of things. On one ear hung a Betazoid earring, the sign of their religion. A tiny scarf wrapped around its neck, made from two materials. One a soft leather, the other from a black bandanna that had once been used to tie back long hair of Woman. A thin braid of her orange hair was dangling down the back of the animal. A star like piece of metal, pure silver, was securely attached to one of its arms, it had been a present, imbedded into the skin of its occupant at the turn into adult hood. One of his species greatest honours. A white chain tightly wrapped around its neck, a black stone of volcanic glass with the initials K.R. delicately etched on its surface. The boy hadn't had any possessions to add to this reminder, he hadn't even had clothing when they'd brought him in. A tear rolled down Tom's cheek and he brushed it away angrily.
He couldn't afford to be uncaring about himself anymore. He needed to stay healthy, fight the good fight. He couldn't be careless about things like his holoprogram being seen. He would be the old Tom Paris, before his mission, before he met with the Cardassian Seska and had to leave her death to another day. Yes, he would be the old Tom again, at least when he wasn't behind locked doors. And he fell asleep, the animal clutched tightly under his arm. And when he woke up he gained tight control of his emotions. He was the only one in control here, there could never be a doubt about that. He dressed for another shift.
TBCNote: exams are looming again, so I'm sorry but I can't say the next chapter will be out so quickly. I hope you enjoyed it.