Disclaimer: All things Star Trek belong to CBS/Paramount. I only own my imagination.
Spoilers: Fair Trade. If you haven't seen it, this won't make much sense.
Author's Note: I have the ambition to keep these coming, but I also have a real life which can mess with me. It's picking up speed but our resident half-Klingon is having issues with trust. With good reason. Flyboy on the other hand is mulling over how to win over a half-Klingon.
B'Elanna walked in to the mess hall immediately spotting Tom, sitting with his back towards her gazing out through the viewport, all alone. Granted, the mess hall was rather empty, but still, someone surely had a kind word for the lieutenant after the events lately? But no, apparently not.
As usual her inside turned chaotic when detecting his presence. She was drawn to him in a way someone not at least part Klingon could understand, yet she feared it and did everything she could to keep it undetected. In turn that meant she had to fight not only the will to walk over and pull him out of that chair and taste his blood, but also the urge to flee before she did something she'd regret. Today she fought both urges successfully, took a deep breath and decided she'd be a friend in what she suspected was a dark moment.
She walked over to the galley to find it empty. Neelix would be scrubbing manifolds for a while so she wasn't too surprised that he was absent. The coffee dispenser was full though, she concluded and reached for a mug to pour her some. With mug in hand she set a course for the table where Tom sat. Before reaching the table she straightened and made sure she looked like her usual self.
"Hey flyboy," B'Elanna said with a lopsided smile and put down her mug on the table.
Tom averted his gaze from the viewport, tilted his head slightly while narrowing his eyes. "Hey B'Elanna," he replied with that voice that always made her uncertain. His gaze was piercing and she felt like he could actually read her mind. Of course he couldn't, she chastised herself. He was just acting enigmatic to throw her off.
"You definitely have the record for incarceration in the neighbourhood," she said lightly and sat down on the other side of the table in front of him.
"Tell me about it. It's not getting better with time, that much I can tell you," he said and his mood visibly took a plunge. Her heart sank too. She hadn't meant to remind him of his more painful past, just to lighten things up. Quickly she decided she could just as well continue on the subject instead of sweeping it under the imaginary rug.
"I haven't talked to Chakotay yet so I don't know what happened," she begun. "This place seem like a pretty rough place to end up behind bars in," she suggested.
Tom sighed, let his eyes wander for a moment before he met her eyes again. "No, it was the usual humiliation. It seems universal where ever you go. Physical abuse is one thing, but the search... " he glanced away for a moment. "It's never easy," he concluded. "It's about power of course. I know that, but it doesn't make it easier to bear when it happens."
Instinctively she reached out and put her hand on his but the moment she touched him she winced inwardly. This was a really bad idea, she knew it, but now that she had reached out she had to follow it through. I'm just being a friend, she repeated to herself, ignoring the warmth and stopped herself from drawing in his scent. Breathe normally, she ordered herself.
"I'm sorry Tom. I really don't know what else to say. It's not like I have been through something like that," she said softly, pleased that her voice was steady and sounded like it should.
He looked down at her hand for a moment and B'Elanna winced inwardly once more. Of course he'd notice. It wasn't like she was showering people with physical contact so something like this stood out.
"I know. Thank you," he said and looked up at her and smiled a joyless smile. "At least it was me who got the rough treatment. I know Chakotay doesn't like seeing me being mistreated, but I wasn't the captain. That would have been a lot worse for him."
She nodded and sighed. "Do you think she'll change her mind? About Chakotay, I mean," she asked.
Tom shook his head. "No, unfortunately I don't think so. I'm sure he knows. He just can't help it. I completely understand him though. It's impossible to not fall head over heels when you find that kind of a woman," he mused.
B'Elanna slowly pulled her hand back hoping he wouldn't notice. That hope was in vain it seemed, because he instantly looked down at her hand and then raised his eyes to meet hers.
"No B'Elanna. I'm not secretly in love with the captain," he gently told her.
Her eyes darted away and she gripped the mug with both her hands. "I didn't think you were," she replied. She looked back at him for a moment before looking down at the content in her mug. She lifted it and drank.
Tom sighed. "I just meant that when you find someone who is your kind of person, strong, independent, intelligent, and you spend so much time in that person's presence as we do here on Voyager, you will fall in love. Even if you really have no hope that this person will reciprocate any feelings," he said quietly looking steadily at B'Elanna.
When she didn't look up or say anything he picked up his mug to drink. He was uncertain how to act and what to say. From his point of view, what he just said should send the message that he was talking about himself, not Chakotay, and that the person he was talking about was herself, B'Elanna, and no one else. Did she understand? He couldn't tell if she did, and he definitely couldn't tell if she had any intentions of returning any affection either. This was as open as he dared to be at this point. Making a fool of himself again was not on his agenda.
Harry's advice to be honest and upfront made sense – if she had been 100% human. She wasn't. She was theoretically half-human, and therein lay the problem. He wanted to know just how much of the Klingon heritage she had inherited, but it wasn't like he could ask her. By what she had said and how she acted he concluded that it was a substantial part of her, but her human side was there - he had seen it ever since the Vidiians had separated her Klingon and human DNA. Question was, should he act all human?
He looked down at the mug he had in his hands.
As far as he knew she didn't have much love for her Klingon side, not officially anyway, but that didn't automatically mean she'd respond well to a fully human approach. Could he do it the Klingon way? Answer: no. Of course he couldn't, he was human and to be honest he didn't know how to do anything in a Klingon way. Perhaps it would be best if he accepted that he could only be himself and act accordingly.
On the other side of the table B'Elanna looked up and watched as he swirled the content in his mug around. He seemed deep in thought and she knew that now was a good time for a hasty departure to escape this situation. She knew his words about that special someone had been meant for her, but she just couldn't make herself trust him or let him closer. Not yet. Possibly never.
She looked down at the mug in her hands and in that moment she for the first time articulated to herself that B'Elanna Torres was afraid of real closeness in general, and letting Tom in to her life in particular. Human males were not to be trusted; she had seen that in her father's behaviour and in Tom's. Her father had definitely not understood what a commitment meant to a Klingon and she feared Tom would lack the same understanding. Now, she wasn't sure she would face the same difficulties as her mother if she entered a relationship which later fell apart, but she was afraid to risk it. How could she ever explain this to Tom? If she tried she was certain he would simply feel encouraged. At the thought of it she felt panic well up inside. Breathe, she reminded herself.
"Are you okay?" Tom asked and looked at her with concern.
B'Elanna snapped her head up. "Yeah, I'm fine. I was just thinking about... work. Actually, I need to get back down to engineering," she blurted and rose from her chair. "See you later," she said and turned and walked briskly out of the mess hall.
He watched her disappear. "Work," he snorted to himself. He wondered if she ever would be comfortable around him and he once again cursed his incredible stupidity to ask her on a date. The coffee was cold and no longer palatable, so he rose from the chair he had occupied, picked up both mugs and went over to the recycler and then left the mess hall.
