Tom got to sickbay on time, knowing that skiving off the end of his last shift would make the Doctor ever more watchful. Sure, the Captain was the point at the top of the good excuses pyramid, but still. The Doctor was the Doctor and Tom had never even seen his good side.
The Captain had left his quarters just after 2300, her cheeks rosy from wine and her sides sore from laughing. He loved to hear her laugh and had spent the evening trying to get her to do just that. Her company eased the pain of his break-up, even if it was in his best interest. The Captain seemed to make everything easier just by being in the room.
"Mr. Paris," the Doctor said, surprised. "You're on time!"
"Actually, I'm almost 45 seconds early," he said. "Are you proud of me?"
"I've never been prouder," the Doctor said. "You just missed the Captain. She left something for you on your work station."
"What is it?" he asked.
"How should I know? I'm a Doctor, not a snoop," the Doctor sniffed. Tom moved to the Bio Lab where he'd spent the last three shifts cataloging specimens from the last planet they'd stopped at. On his station was a metal case, something that would house medical or engineering supplies but this kit was generic – without the colored strip or numerical designation that informed the user of what would be inside. Curious, he opened the case and let his face breakout into a wide grin.
Inside was a curl of red hair tied together with a small length of yellow ribbon.
oooo
"I wish you'd just tell me the truth," Harry said petulantly.
"The truth is I'm tired of you asking," Tom said, pushing his tray away from himself.
"Tom!"
"What do you want from me Harry? I've told you everything!"
"I didn't even know you were having serious problems with B'Elanna and then suddenly I hear you're broken up? From Seven of Nine?"
"Ha, I won that pool, you know," Tom said smugly. "And I can't believe Seven was engaging in irrelevant gossip with you."
"Well, she wasn't… exactly," Harry said. "I maybe mentioned the four of us getting dinner together and she informed me of your break-up."
"Aw, Harry, I'm sorry," Tom said.
"So who is it?" Harry prodded.
"Who is who?"
"The other woman!" Harry exclaimed.
"Do you really think so little of me?" Tom asked, wounded.
"No, I just thought…"
"Janeway to Paris." Tom's chirping badge interrupted their conversation.
"Paris here," he answered.
"Will you meet me in Shuttle Bay Two?" she asked. "I have an idea."
"On my way," he said and tapped his badge. "Sorry Harry, duty calls."
Harry watched him go, staring at the door long after Tom had disappeared through it.
"Something the matter, Ensign?" Neelix said, refilling his coffee cup.
"No," Harry murmured. "It's just… no, nothing. Thanks, Neelix."
oooo
Chakotay sat in his chair on the bridge. He was overseeing the Gamma shift. Janeway wasn't due on the bridge until morning but it wasn't like her not to appear at least once during his shift.
"Tuvok, I have to run to my office for something. You have the bridge," he said.
"Yes sir," Tuvok said and walked away from his station to take the Captain's chair. In Chakotay's office, he sat at his desk and sighed. He had a report to bring back to the bridge with him, but were he to be honest with himself, it could've waited until the end of the shift.
"Computer," he said, feeling the flush of guilt. "Locate Captain Janeway."
"Captain Janeway is in Shuttle Bay two," the computer responded.
"Computer," he said again. The computer chirped, acknowledging his voice recognition. "Locate Lieutenant Paris."
"Lieutenant Paris is in Shuttle Bay two."
So there it was. In the last several months, he'd felt a growing distance between the Captain and himself. Once, he could see himself with no one else… Janeway seemed to be the perfect woman. She was fiery, intelligent, and warm-hearted. They seemed to compliment one another in both their personalities and command styles. It had seemed so easy, so clear. But, as their journey lengthened, that easy friendship had begun to change and grow. He had hoped it would grow into something like love, but instead it had taken an unexpected turn. Instead of leaning on him, she'd begun to rely on more members of the senior staff. Tuvok had always been her closest advisor and had continued to be. She'd given Harry more responsibilities but had kept a close eye on them as he had struggled to keep up. Even Neelix had gotten more of her time.
Then, when she'd brought Seven on board, they'd disagreed so thoroughly that any last vestiges of what she'd felt for him during the time on New Earth had seemed to evaporate. They were still friends, still good friends, but the path ahead had curved.
The Doctor's report on Janeway and Paris had mentioned that they'd been chosen as the two most important crewmembers. That had stung as well. And when they had gotten back on board… well.
"Chakotay to Janeway," he said, unable to stand it.
"Go ahead, Commander," she replied promptly.
"I have the monthly rosters for you to authorize," he said. "Just wondering if you were going to stop by."
"Oh, I can do it in the morning, can't I?" she asked. "Leave it in the ready room."
"I can bring it to you, if it's easier," Chakotay offered.
"It isn't necessary," she said. "I promise to do it first thing tomorrow. Janeway out."
Chakotay sighed and tossed the PADD onto his desk. The loud clattering of metal on metal somehow suited his mood.
oooo
Paris was playing pool in Sandrine's. The French bar program had fallen out of vogue on the ship but he still liked it and now was running it privately. When he ran the program publicly, there were a few alterations – the holo-characters tended to keep their hands to themselves more for one. The bar wasn't filled with as much smoke and every drop of alcohol was synthetic.
When he ran it privately, however, those things weren't as true.
He'd deleted the characters, however. He didn't feel like talking or spurning advances. He actually felt like being alone. He'd spent the day in sickbay and that much time with the Doctor could drive anyone to isolation. It was a rare day that he didn't have at least some bridge duty, but today, it had happened. He also hadn't seen Janeway all day. She hadn't been at breakfast, which wasn't unusual and he'd been late to lunch. He'd looked for her at dinner but she'd been absent then as well.
Maybe it was a good thing. He'd been spending a lot of time with her and perhaps a break would give him some perspective. Friendship was one thing, but when he wanted to spend all of his time with one woman, it tended to mean something else.
He sunk a striped ball in the side pocket and paused to chalk his cue.
He only had fifteen minutes left on the holodeck. He would finish his game and then return to his quarters. Maybe a full night of sleep would be a good thing.
Hours later he was asleep when he felt the ship shudder. His eyes flew open and it was only a second before Janeway's voice filtered through the comm. system.
"Senior officers, report to the bridge!"
He didn't even have time to change. Instead he jumped into his boots and threw on a robe before rushing out of the door. It wouldn't be the first time everyone arrived on the bridge in their pajamas in the middle of the night.
Tom was the last to arrive but his quarters were several decks away. He took his chair, and started scanning the alien ship that was firing on them. Janeway had managed half her uniform – she had her turtleneck and pants on, but her hair was pretty mussed.
"Report," she barked as Voyager shook with another volley.
"Shields at 76 percent," Tuvok stated.
"Why are they firing?" Tom asked.
"We trespassed in their space," Chakotay said.
"Tom, can you get us out of here?" she asked. "At least until we can map out just exactly where their space is?"
"Aye," he said. Something was wrong. "I can't get a stable warp field but I have impulse."
"Do it," she said. As soon as Voyager began to retreat the firing stopped. Janeway sighed and rubbed her face. "All right. Harry, figure out their boarders, please."
"Yes, ma'am," Harry said.
"It's like diplomacy doesn't even exist in this quadrant," Chakotay grumbled.
"No one wants to talk," Janeway agreed. "Tom, when Harry finishes his scans, let's you and I find an alternate route, hmm?"
"Sure," he said.
"Until then, move us a safe distance away," she said.
Tom met the Captain and Seven in the conference room. Seven already had a map of the area up on the display panel and she and Janeway had their heads bent over the space.
"Reporting for duty, Ma'am," he said. She glanced at him briefly.
"Good," she said. "What do you got, Tom?"
"I've come up with a few alternatives but I can't say you're going to like them," he said, walking over to them. Janeway stepped aside to let him stand between Seven and her self. He entered them into the computer and watched the flight paths emerge onto the screen.
"This looks like the safest route," Janeway said, pointing to a green line.
"I agree," he said.
"But not the most efficient," Seven said. "This one is." She pointed to a red one.
"That one takes us awfully close to the boarder," Tom said. "Plus flying through that anomaly could be hard on the shields."
"It will also cut a week off our journey," Seven pointed out. Tom looked to Janeway who was studying the screen intently.
"I'd rather play it safe this time," Janeway said. "I'm going with Tom's route."
"Of course you are," Seven said harshly. "Your desire for him is clouding your judgment."
Janeway and Tom both turned to stare at her. Seven's face was flushed with anger. Tom was surprised by Seven's words but Janeway's expression remained neutral. She was more used to Seven's socially inappropriate outbursts.
"Seven, you are crossing a line," Janeway said, her voice steely. "My feelings for Lieutenant Paris have nothing to do with my decision. Efficiency is important but nothing is more important than the safety of the crew. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Captain," Seven said.
"Dismissed," Janeway said and Seven turned sharply and stalked out of the room.
"That was…" Tom trailed off. He wasn't sure what it was.
"She's adjusting," Janeway allowed.
"Is she?" Tom asked. "Are you?"
"I never said liberating a Borg was going to be a cakewalk," she said, sinking into a seat.
"I'm sure Seven just said that to get under your skin," Tom said. Janeway scoffed.
"Seven is capable of a lot of things but lying is not one of them," Janeway said. Tom sat down next to her.
"What are you saying?" he asked.
"I'm saying I'm doing the best that I can," she said. "You and I have an odd situation and I thought that after we had the implants removed things would go back to normal except normal now is something different so… I'm doing the best that I can."
"Yes, ma'am," he said. "I am too."
"Then there we are," she said and slapped the table as she stood up. He jumped to his feet too. "What do you say you go fly my ship for a while, hmm?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said again and she patted his back as they walked out onto the bridge.
oooo
Tom and Harry were in the holodeck. Tom had made an effort to invite Harry to the holodeck, to spend time with him and him alone. They were golfing in the Pebble Beach program and the sea breeze felt brisk and refreshing. They were on the 5th hole before Tom worked up the nerve to talk to Harry about the Captain.
"I'm going to tell you the truth," Tom said. Harry, who'd been about to putt, pulled back his putter and turned to Tom, his face open with curiosity.
"What?" he said.
"Something happened in the briefing room today," Tom said.
"We didn't have a staff meeting today," Harry said, turning back to his ball. Then he froze. "Wait, you and the Captain were mapping the new course adjustments."
"Yes."
"You're saying something happened between you and the Captain in the briefing room?"
"Seven was there too," Tom said. "She said something… odd."
"Seven says a lot of weird things," Harry said.
"This was…"
"Tom!"
"She accused the Captain of siding with me because she desired me," Tom said.
"And what did she say to that?" Harry asked.
"She told Seven that her decision had to do with the welfare of the crew and dismissed her," Tom said.
"That's it? What did she say to you?" Harry was now rapt, hanging on every gossipy word.
"She said that she was doing her best," Tom said.
"What does that mean?" Harry asked.
"It means we're both doing our best with a strange situation," Tom said. "Harry… this is the Captain. I can't… and yet it's like… my whole life has been connected in some way to this woman and is it really so strange that I would develop…?"
Tom rubbed his head and sat down in the golf cart, feeling suddenly exhausted and a little scared.
"I am in way over my head," Tom said, finally. Harry sat next to him, the game all but forgotten.
"We're going to be on this ship a long time, probably," Harry said. Tom looked at him, slightly surprised. Harry was the type to always hold hope in his heart, always clinging to the notion that they'd find some way home while he was still a young man. It was a big deal that Harry was admitting out loud that this might really take a long time.
"Yeah."
"If you… have feelings for her, you should go for it," he said.
"If it were anyone else, I would," he said. "But this is Kathryn Janeway."
"And if it were anyone else, I'd tell them that they were crazy. But you're Tom Paris." Harry smiled. "The old Tom Paris wouldn't hesitate."
"The old Tom Paris was an idiot," Tom said.
"Well, there is that," Harry said. "But the new Tom Paris isn't."
"We shall see about that," Tom said. "What, are we gonna stand around all day are or are you gonna hit that ball?"
oooo
The part of Tom that wasn't an idiot told him to avoid Janeway for a few days. He needed some time to think, to decide what he wanted to do. He couldn't avoid her completely, however, as they had bridge shifts but she seemed to know that he needed some space and let him be. They were all on high alert anyway for potential threats or aliens on this new flight plan. The bridge shifts were never uneventful and adding sickbay on to his duty roster never made for boring days.
He did most of his thinking in bed, tossing and turning late at night.
What if he did approach Janeway? Harry was right, it was a long journey and he really didn't want to face several decades of awkwardness. The thing was, he'd never felt awkward around the Captain before and even now when they were creating distance on purpose, things didn't feel awkward, just contemplative. She still greeted him warmly when he entered the bridge, still smiled at him in passing if they crossed in the corridors. She was telling him she understood.
After four days of this, though, apparently she was tired of waiting. He was just getting ready for bed when she contacted him.
"Janeway to Paris."
He knew she was off-duty and it was late for a business call. Her voice sounded soft and strained from a day of ordering people about.
"Paris here," he said, holding his comm. badge in his hand.
"I know it's late, but do you think you could stop by my quarters?" she asked.
"Of course," he said. "On my way." He put his boots back on and shrugged into his uniform jacket. He didn't zip it, however, and attached the comm. badge to his gray turtleneck instead, letting the lapel of the jacket cover it slightly. Soon, he stood outside of her quarters, waiting for her to admit him,
"Come in," she said and he stepped through the door. She was in her uniform as well, sitting at her desk looking busy and a little tired.
"Good evening," he said. She looked up at him and smiled softly.
"Hi Tom," she said. "I just… I wanted to let you know that I understand."
"What?" Even knowing her as well as he did, the comment was vague at best.
"I said we were searching for normal the other day and I truly believe we can get back to the way things were before the implants. You've proven that this week," she said. "Maybe it's for the best."
"I didn't mean to prove anything," Tom said quickly. "I was just… thinking."
"Still," she said. "I don't want either of us dwelling on Seven's speculation."
"I don't think of it as speculation, Captain," he said. She raised an eyebrow.
"Are you telling me how I feel?"
"I'm telling you how I feel," he said. "I do desire you."
"Tom, I don't know what to say," she said.
"I desire for you to be my Captain," he said. "I desire for you to be my best friend."
"I see," she said. She wore the mask well but he saw her face fall a bit.
"Do you?" he asked.
"I think so," she confirmed. But he knew she didn't quite. He decided to try a different tactic. He wasn't much of a storyteller – that was Chakotay's department but he knew that Chakotay told her a lot of stories and she seemed to respond.
"Have you ever read the Bible?" he asked, sitting down on her couch. She sighed and got out of her desk chair to come sit next to him.
"No," she said. "Not a lot of science in ancient religious texts."
"Maybe not, but there's a lot of beautiful poetry and imagery. My sister used to read it to me before we went to bed," he said. "One of my favorite stories was about Jesus and his friend Peter."
"All right," she allowed.
"Jesus had died," Tom said. "And then had come back from the dead."
"Borg nano probes?" she asked, smirking.
"Yeah, they show up in the Bible a lot," Tom said. "Anyway, Peter and his other friends are fishing during the night and they can't catch anything. Each time they cast their nets, they come up empty."
"There are better was to fish than with nets," Janeway said.
"Not back then," Tom said. "Anyway, so they're fishing and finally, Peter notices a man on the shore. The man yells at them to cast their nets on the other side of the boat."
"That's it?" she asked.
"Yeah. Peter was skeptical too, but they try it and when they raise the nets, they are filled with fish," Tom said. "Peter looks at the man on the shore and realizes it's Jesus."
"The dead man," Janeway said, dryly.
"He wasn't dead anymore," Tom reminded her. "But the point is, Peter sees his best friend after believing that he was gone forever. Can you imagine losing your best friend, grieving and mourning them, and then getting a second chance?" Janeway, who'd been skeptical, shook her head.
"I can't," she said. "What did he do?"
"I'm glad you asked," Tom said. "It's my favorite part. So, Peter sees Jesus and is so excited to go be with him that he can't wait for the boat to make it back to the shore. Instead, Peter takes off all his clothes and jumps into the water. He swims back to the shore to reach Jesus that much sooner."
"That's devotion," she agreed. "I have to tell you, though, I'm not sure where you're going with this story."
"I'm Peter," he said. "What I mean is I'm Peter and when I see you, it's all I can do not to drop everything and swim to shore."
She was touched and he could see her eyes glisten with moisture. She reached out and took his hand. He laced their fingers together and when she squeezed, he squeezed back. It was the moment when one of them should have let go, should have stood up and made for the door but instead they didn't move. He moved his thumb in circles on the skin of her hand and she watched him do it. Their knees were angled toward one another, bumping on the sofa. He reached out slowly and lifted her leg; draped it over his own so they were a little closer and she allowed it.
"We're doing this all backward," he said.
"How so?"
"Well, first we shared all our intimate thoughts and then we shared a bed," he said. "Usually the kissing comes first."
"But you haven't kissed me," she pointed out. This was true. In his mind, he'd kissed her a thousand times in a thousand different places but that was only his imagination. He would kiss her now; he would show her the depth of his desire and devotion.
He didn't get the chance to do so. Impatient, she kissed him first. She leaned into him and pressed her mouth to his.
oooo
B'Elanna came into Sickbay with a crushed hand. Engineering accidents were commonplace – it was a dangerous profession on a dangerous area of the ship. Tom spent a lot of time regenerating skin on plasma burns and healing lacerations. Sometimes he even healed fractured bones or radiation poisoning. But something like a crushed hand fell under the jurisdiction of the Doctor, and for that Tom was grateful.
When he saw B'Elanna come in cradling her hand, his first instinct was to hide and it was an instinct he followed. He ducked into the Doctor's office and peered through the glass as the Doctor led B'Elanna to a bed to scan her injury.
"Lieutenant Paris!" the Doctor called. Tom winced and thought about sneaking out the backdoor, but instead walked out into the bay and forced a smile. "There you are," the Doctor huffed. "I need your assistance."
"What happened?" he asked, standing dutifully beside the Doctor and refusing to take his eyes off her swollen, mangled hand. He wouldn't look at her face, wouldn't see the loathing there if he didn't have to.
"The Jefferies tube door closed automatically to contain a leak and my hand got in the way." B'Elanna was blunt answering his question and he didn't have to look at her to know that she wouldn't look at him either. Which was a shame, because before there was a thing between them, they were friends and now, that was gone.
The Doctor needed Tom to hand him a variety of instruments. All the medical technology in the world, but in the end, the Doctor set her hand pushing the bones back into place with his fingers. B'Elanna hissed but took the pain like a champion. The Doctor left Tom to knit the bones back together. It was the moment of truth, them alone.
When he looked B'Elanna in the face, she looked back.
"I'm sorry," he said. He meant the pain in her hand, the blood that was drying in the beds of her nails.
"I know," she said.
"Your hand will be a little stiff," Tom said, running the regenerator over her bruised flesh. The display on the instruments beeped every time a bone was healed and he could move on to another damaged area.
"All right," she acknowledged. "I've broken bones before."
"I've healed them before," he admitted. "I guess we both know the drill."
"I guess we do," she said. His instrument beeped for the final time.
"Good as new," he said, stepping back. She looked at him and then flexed her hand experimentally.
"Thank the Doctor for me, would you?" she asked before standing up and walking out the door. He deserved that. He was cleaning up the mess made by her injury – disinfecting the instruments used, sterilizing the bio bed, when he returned to what he'd been doing all day. Thinking about kissing the Captain. Thinking about how her hair slipped between his fingers when he touched her head, how she had used her thumb to wipe her lipstick off the corner of his mouth – how he had found that unbearably sexy.
He thought about how her tongue had slid against his, how she had tasted like caffeine, like chocolate, like something sweet and unidentifiable. He thought about how her shoulders hunched in when he bit her neck, how long and dark her eyelashes seemed resting on her cheeks when her eyes were closed. How her brow furrowed with pleasure and concentration, like kissing him was some important and delicate task.
"Mr. Paris, I think it's clean." The Doctor startled him and he looked down. He'd been sterilizing the regenerator for at least three cycles.
"Right," he said. "Just wanted to make sure."
"Just because you and Lieutenant Torres are no longer involved, it doesn't make her literally infectious," the Doctor said.
"Of course not," Tom said, slightly offended. The Doctor studied him carefully, his eyes gleaming.
"How are you feeling?" the Doctor asked accusingly. "You seem a little flushed."
"I'm fine," Tom said quickly. The last thing he needed was the Doctor scanning him and seeing his increased heart rate, dilated blood vessels, out of control hormones. Love was a medical condition with very real symptoms. Love could kill a person if they weren't careful. The French didn't coin the phrase "la petite mort" for nothing.
Tom was sure that, eventually, Kathryn Janeway would kill him. If kissing her had left him jittery and distracted, making love to her would render him completely useless. But he was getting ahead of himself. Sure, they'd spent an hour necking on her couch but then he'd left because they had to be professional about life on a starship.
Planet side, they would fall into an affair and he would request a transfer to another ship, to a space station or to a planet and no interests would conflict. Out here, there was no transferring anywhere except to another deck.
"I don't think you're fine," the Doctor said, now.
"I am," he said. "I'm just a little… distracted."
"Clearly," the Doctor sniffed. But the Doctor didn't press and so Tom went back to his duties, allowed his mind to wander through the last evening all over again.
oooo
Janeway wasn't hiding in her ready room, she was merely working. If it was away from prying eyes, that was really beyond her control. She pressed her thumb to a PADD, authorizing a shift change and entered the data into the main computer.
Sure, this seemed like busy work, but on a tightly run starship, everything was important.
Her door chimed and she tensed.
"Come in," she said.
Chakotay smiled at her and set a pile of PADDS down on her desk. He scooped up the pile she was finished with and stood at her desk, expectantly.
"Commander?" she asked.
"Feeling especially productive and ambitious today, are we?" he asked.
"Maybe," she said.
"Good for you," he said.
"Work is work and it needs to be done," she said, feeling defensive.
"I agree," he said. She frowned at him.
"Something else?" she asked.
"Not really," he said. "There was an accident in engineering but everything is back to normal."
"Who got hurt?" she asked.
"B'Elanna closed her hand in a tube door," he said.
"Ouch."
"Tom released her to duty fifteen minutes ago," Chakotay said.
"Tom's in sickbay?" she asked.
"You should know," Chakotay said. She narrowed her eyes, willing herself not to flush.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.
"You just authorized the shift change," Chakotay said, waving the PADD at her. She relaxed.
"Right," she said.
"Captain, may I have permission to speak freely?" he asked. She couldn't refuse him – well she could but she had no good reason to and so she nodded, once. "I know, and I believe the crew knows, that you shared a unique and intimate experience with Paris."
"I…" She faltered. "Yes."
"You and Paris were friends before that happened," Chakotay said. That was true also, so she nodded again. "If you want to spend time with him, then spend time with him. You shouldn't feel guilty about it. Even you need friends."
"You're my friend," she said.
"Besides me and Tuvok," he said. "I'm your first officer and Tuvok is Vulcan and 150-years-old. Tom Paris could be good for you. He'll force you to have some fun every now and then."
"All right, all right," she said, waving her hand in the air. "Your opinion has been noted. I'm boring and secretive. Got it."
"That isn't what I meant and you know it," he said, smiling.
"Sure," she said.
"Just… and I mean this with all due respect," Chakotay said. She braced herself. "You tend to do everything full-throttle and so does Paris. Your friendship with me works because there's balance. With Tom… just be careful you two don't go off the deep end, okay?"
She blushed. Maybe they already had. She'd lost control with Tom; let things get a little dangerous. They were already wading into the deep end of the pool.
"Go away now," she said, instead, but not maliciously.
"Aye, aye," he said, and went back onto the bridge. She let her head fall and rested her forehead on the cool metal of her desk. The thing was, Chakotay was right. She did need a person like Tom in her life, but it was people like Tom who'd always gotten her into the worst of trouble. And for a woman went with trouble like white on rice, that was saying something.
"Paris to Janeway."
She lifted her head and smoothed her hair, as if Tom could see her through an audio link.
"Janeway here," she said, trying to sound as commanding as possible. As if she were in the middle of something very important and he was interrupting her.
"The Doctor relieved me of my sickbay duties for the remainder of the shift," he said. "Permission to come to the bridge?"
Usually, when Tom got out of something, he ran straight to the holodeck or the mess hall or even to his quarters. Now he wanted to work more? She understood – work could be distracting but it could also be because she was up here. Were things already changing?
"Permission denied," she said. "I want you to go help Seven in Astrometrics. She's close to finishing and she could use your help with the final chart inputs."
"Yes, Ma'am," he said. He didn't sound hurt, but curious.
"You work well with her," Janeway said. "Not everyone does."
"True," he said.
"I was planning on coming by myself in a while," she offered. "I'll check on your progress."
"Okay," he said, sounding pleased.
"Janeway out." With the silence restored, she returned her head to her desk. She had planned on going down to see Seven later, but it felt untrue now, marred by her excitement to see Tom. She hadn't seen him since he'd left her quarters, her lips burning and her body restless. They had to be able to work together. Chakotay was right – her friendship with her first officer was successful almost wholly due to balance. She had to find someway of achieving it with Tom.