Making Up is Hard to Do
Chapter 5
"Personal Log Lieutenant Thomas Eugene Paris, Stardate 54416.7. B'Elanna. Where are you?" Long pause for over ten minutes. "Computer shutting down recording due to voice inactivity. Encoding per user protocols."
/
Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres sat on her bed in her red nightgown sipping a light beer. The gown was Tom's gift to her on their second anniversary of being a couple. Somehow it made her feel safe.
"Computer, locate Lieutenant Paris."
"Lieutenant Paris is on Holodeck One."
"Computer, locate Ensign Aubrey."
"Ensign Aubrey is on Holodeck One."
Torres let out a loud primordial growl and hurled her PADD against the bedroom door in her quarters. That was followed by a flower vase, a chair, her Starfleet uniform tunic, a water glass, and the now empty beer bottle. She grabbed Toby the Targ next and was about to fling him as well but held up and hugged the stuffed animal to her rapidly beating chest.
It had now been just over four months since Paris and Torres had broken up. Time and reflection should have healed some of the emotional wounds but they had only deepened in both of them. She had already concluded that breaking up was a big mistake. She ached for him. She had erotic dreams about him. Engineering had become a nightmare, a place where her concentration occasionally waned and simple mistakes seemed to multiply. She often blew up for no reason but quickly apologized.
Tom. They had been through so much together and their future had been bright. Marriage, children, and a family were forthcoming. She loved him. But now he had her. That woman. Her blood boiled despite hours of meditation that had allowed her to control her volatile temper more often than not.
To B'Elanna, her reactions to Tom and Aubrey had nothing to do with them, for she instinctively knew there was nothing going on sexually between them. It was about what had happened to cause the breakup in the first place. Moments before her latest outburst she had once again replayed in her mind the events that caused her to end it with Paris and why he was willing to accept it. After deep reflection, she finally understood what had actually happened.
It wasn't about compatibility or sex. They were very compatible, two people who had been damaged by life but had found each other. The sex was wonderful, creative, and enthusiastic every time.
It wasn't just about his refusal to let her in. He had done that for years but had opened up to her over time.
It had to do with a nagging feeling that she wanted more from their relationship. She had felt it for months before the breakup.
To be blunt, she wanted him to pop the question. But she did not know how to get him to do it. And he never asked her, believing their relationship to be just great as it was. Or maybe he was scared she would say no. She wouldn't but he did not know that.
When she tried to indirectly broach the subject he always seemed to have other priorities. Obsessions such as ALICE and Holodeck programs occasionally made her less important. He began to miss dates but always made it up to her.
She felt loved but also unappreciated. Was Tom really serious about her or was she just a woman he had fun with? She wanted to be more than a bed pal. He didn't offer it.
When he did not pick up on her vibes she believed him to be less interested than was actually the case. Her long-buried insecurities about being abandoned arose once again. Those feelings and their heated argument caused her to push him away like the old days, this time to reevaluate their relationship. But this situation had gone much further than she wanted and now they were finished.
When she was showering after work today B'Elanna had surprised herself by admitting out loud that she wanted marriage. She pounded a fist on the shower wall until her hand bled. Lieutenant Kristine Fernandez next door heard the thumping but ignored it. Fernandez was more than used to the engineering chief throwing objects when she and Tom were intimate. It did not occur to her that Tom Paris was not in B'Elanna's quarters.
Torres also knew it had been an error in judgment to tell Tom that she wanted space at a time when he was emotionally spent. She should have waited until he calmed down. She could then have found the right time to discuss marriage. But if she mentioned a proposal first she was taking the lead. Tom would react one way or another but most likely in a negative fashion due to a serious blow to his ego.
So she had pushed him too hard about the memorial. And he ran straight into the arms of Ensign Aubrey. Of course he had only done that once she went for a drink with Science Officer Ensign Sean Murphy. That decision and a message she later sent to Murphy had led to what was now unwanted dating. That was so stupid.
Then it occurred to her what she would have done if Tom wanted to back away for a while. "Ripped his arms off, probably," she said out loud. She smirked. He would have fought her tooth and nail if she tried. Yeah! Growl.
B'Elanna was now certain that they broke up because what they had fought over was due to her increasing desire to become Tom's wife. And Tom was not ready to marry her and probably would never be. She cried herself to sleep, which she had not done since childhood on Kessik IV.
/
Two days later, a dapper and smarmy Sean Murphy was about to pick up Torres once again for dinner. She waited for him unemotionally in her now clean quarters, smoothing her white and rose dress and putting her sandals on her feet. She was going over how she would end this.
The door chime rang. B'Elanna mumbled, "Enter!" In waltzed Sean Murphy, violets in hand as usual and a big grin on his face that she did not return.
"Hey, B'Elanna, don't you look marvelous?" He was wearing a green flowing shirt and black pants. "These are for you." He casually tossed her the flowers, which she immediately dropped onto the deck. "How do you like my outfit? I replicated it just for you." He turned around so she could admire him.
"It looks nice, Ens…Sean." Oh, brother.
Sean glanced around her living area. "Umm, B'Elanna, I was thinking that instead of going to Holodeck 2 tonight we could have dinner here. I have a lot of replicator credits so we can splurge on something spicy. How about it?" He smiled.
Torres's inner Klingon went on high alert. She had known right from the beginning that this guy only wanted to get into her panties for hot Klingon sex. And he had been trying unsuccessfully for months now.
And she was still not about to give it up for him or anybody but Tom Paris.
No longer was she the Maquis who occasionally traded sex for comfort. Torres was about to turn twenty-eight and she had matured far beyond her years. She held important temporary Starfleet rank as a senior officer. Her chief engineer responsibilities made her a valued member of the crew. And there had been the strength and support from Tom. He encouraged her to embrace both halves of her personality that in turn made her the woman she had become. She missed him terribly and rarely saw him since he no longer came to staff meetings. Even on a ship as small as Voyager, he had succeeded in avoiding her most of the time.
B'Elanna had allowed Murphy to date her because she had noticed him five years before. She needed a male friend to talk with other than Harry Kim, Chakotay, or Tuvok. She let him stroke her ego a bit and make her pretend that everything was wonderful. But that was all.
Then he turned creepy. His frequent appearances in engineering were motivated by a chance to try and touch her intimately or kiss her cheek. He stood in the corridor outside her office door to protect her from an allegedly revengeful Tom. He made sure that they ate together as often as possible. They hung out at Sandrine's so he could show her off even though Paris was never there anymore.
Seven-of-Nine in her human sexuality study found Murphy to be very possessive and insecure. She warned B'Elanna who already sensed it.
Now after having dated Torres for months Murphy had grown cocky. And she knew that she wanted nothing to do with him anymore. The question was How to get rid of him since they would still be on the same ship for decades?
B'Elanna finally shook her head and answered Murphy's dinner suggestion. "I don't think that is a good idea, Sean. Look, we have a nice Holodeck program set up that you worked on for several weeks now just for me, correct?" She looked at him with nothing but contempt.
He scratched his head and looked at the carpeted deck. "Yeah, well, to tell you the truth, Bea, I have been really busy and I could not get the subroutines to work correctly. We could use a default program for tonight, I suppose. But I really would like to have dinner here with you. I'm very, ah, hungry." He put on his best charm, looked up, and smiled.
She could see through him like a hull breach. Then she felt her blood rise. What did he call me?
"Don't you ever call me Bea again!" Her statement came out harshly and her eyes narrowed. Only two people had ever called her Bea, her father John Torres and Tom Paris.
"Whatever you say, ah, Lieutenant Torres." He smirked.
This guy has got to go. I can't deal with him tonight. "Look, Sean, I'm really not feeling well and I should probably get some sleep. Let's reschedule dinner when you get the program to work. I also need to use a headache hypospray." She was really getting irritated with him. We need to end this dating business so I can move on. How?
Sean grinned. The old I have a headache routine. That really means she wants it.
Sean regarded B'Elanna's firm ass and muscular shapely legs as he watched her go through her bedroom and into the bathroom. She closed the door and locked it. He followed and stopped at her bed. There he spied Toby the Targ. A stuffed doll? Are you kidding me?
Then he saw what he did not expect. On her nightstand was a dried and crushed Tarktanian red rose next to a holopicture of Tom and B'Elanna taken on some M-class planet's beach. They were holding each other and smiling with the sun setting behind them. And she had kissed it recently; her lipstick outline was obviously on it. That aroused him.
The rose had to go. He picked it up but missed seeing the thorns, one of which pricked his finger. "Yeow!" Dropping it as he sucked his wound, he grabbed the picture and promptly moved toward the room's disposal unit.
B'Elanna had just returned to the bedroom and saw him snatch her picture. "Just what the hell are you doing in here? Give me that!"
Sean saw his opening. "You'll have to fight me for it, sweetie. I was on the Starfleet Academy wrestling team for four years. I have some submission holds that will make you scream." He held the picture in the air over his head.
Her reaction was not what he anticipated. "You pig! PetaQ'! You give me that picture, Ensign, or you will really regret it!" She was furious and getting madder by the moment.
Sean had never seen an angry Klingon, even a half-Klingon, and she was not even warmed up yet. Where Tom would have stood up to her Sean backed away.
"Umm, pulling rank, Lieutenant? Threatening me? Look, you have been coming on to me for months now after you sent that note to meet you in engineering, what, a couple weeks after breaking up with that prima donna helmboy? I just think it's time that we move forward since you dumped him. Don't worry. You'll enjoy it and I know I will."
I've been coming on to him? What the hell is he thinking? B'Elanna was about to explode and not just over what he had said about Tom. If this had been Tom he could diffuse her anger. But as she had admitted earlier, Sean Murphy was no Tom Paris. I wish Tom was here but he knows I can handle this jerk.
"Give me that picture and get out. Don't come back. I do not want to see you again, period."
Murphy thumped his chest and feigned shock. "What? You are so breaking my heart! That's two guys in a row now you have dumped. I'm not leaving."
Her rage boiled over. "I said, GET OUT! And that is an order, Ensign. Get out of my quarters right now and give me that picture or…." Then she growled.
The low guttural snarl caused Murphy's blood to freeze. He stared. So this is what a Klingon does when she is mad? She growls! I can handle her.
He mistakenly decided to egg her on. "Or what B'Elanna? You're going to do something?" He threw the picture against the bulkhead, breaking it. He then walked slowly towards her with a look she had seen before on other men.
/
"Tom, would you like some more wine?"
The response came slowly and softly. "No, thanks, B'Ella, I still have a full glass."
Ensign Aubrey put the wine bottle down and looked at the disheartened man who sat across the table from her. For the sixth time in ten minutes he had called her B'Ella. He had not even noticed. Her green eyes tried to lock onto his blue ones but he was staring downward at his plate of untouched food while playing with his fork.
Tom Paris was a physical and emotional wreck. Over four months without B'Elanna Torres and knowing that petaQ Murphy drooled over her had taken its toll. His being relieved of flight duty compounded the issue. He was a broken man.
Counseling with the EMH had solved nothing. It was like talking to a wall. Heart-to-hearts with Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay also had no effect. Tuvok recommended meditation but what Tom really needed was his mate B'Elanna. Even Harry Kim could not get through to him and they seldom hung out together anymore.
Tom was averaging two hours sleep a night, if that much. His eyes sunk in his head and remained red from periodic crying. He did not go to the mess hall or Sandrine's to avoid seeing B'Elanna. He spent his off duty time in a Holodeck or his quarters when not working in Sickbay. The lack of food and stress caused him to lose so much weight that he could feel his ribs. He was now on his third uniform size and that one he wore draped over him like a shroud.
He looked like an old man instead of his thirty years with a birthday approaching. Yet he was still a professional officer and his broken heart and crushed spirit had not affected that yet. The EMH had relegated him to basic medical duties consisting of routine physicals and sanitizing instruments. He performed his menial tasks without complaint. Surprisingly he had also avoided consuming alcohol, something he would not have done in the pre-Torres era.
As with almost everyone aboard ship, B'Elanna included, Tom knew Murphy to be an opportunistic scalp collector who had jumped at a chance to perhaps shag the exotic half-Klingon. Tom could not imagine that she had done it with him even after what he had seen in engineering although the rumors were flying. He trusted her too much.
He also knew from fighting alongside her on numerous occasions that she was a strong woman who could handle herself. He hoped it would not come to that. If need be, he would do whatever it took to protect her from Murphy. And he meant anything.
Over the months Freddy Aubrey had come to look upon Tom Paris with compassion and friendship. The stunning and perceptive twenty-nine-year-old woman had started going out with him knowing he was on the rebound and feeling sorry for himself.
She also understood she had as much chance of landing Paris as being in the Alpha quadrant tomorrow. He was hopelessly in love with B'Elanna Torres and to Freddy that was how it should be. What Tom wanted was a female friend to confide in, not another lover. If he desired more he might have fallen back on one of his previous girlfriends such as Megan Delaney. He hadn't.
Aubrey was also a damned good molecular biologist. But she had also double majored in psychiatry at Starfleet Academy. She had never been board certified and thus was not the ship's counselor.
Her expertise indicated that sitting before her was a man who scared her to death not in a threatening way but by what he had become. If eyes reflect the soul then Tom Paris was a classic example of being emotionally dead. He was more than hurt. He was gutted.
Freddy reached into her purse and took out a holocamera. She pointed it at Paris. "Tom, open your eyes. Look at me." He did. She took his picture. When he glanced down again, she brought the image up and zoomed in.
Oh my God! She knew Tom was bad. Now she was appalled as her viewer magnified the deep lines on his face and revealed the depth of his bloodshot eyes. The blue color was obviously there but outlined in red. And she had seen that look in other eyes before. It was the look of imminent death. There was no luster, no gleam, nothing but hollowness.
His deepening depression was so evident to her skilled eye. He was far below acceptable levels of mental stability for space travel let alone piloting. It was a wonder that he had not cracked up, a testimony to his strength of character and a self-destructive ability to isolate the hurt somewhere deep inside. But this pain was too much for even Tom Paris to bear. His overwhelming love for B'Elanna and the pull of his having accepted their mating years ago was so intense that it was slowly destroying him.
Freddy had no doubt that Paris was dying of a broken heart. He would physically or mentally collapse very soon and then waste away until death. She knew from experience that it would take only a few months at most. Only extreme mental intervention could save his life; reconciliation was not likely to do it anymore. She did not rule out that in his current state he was fully capable of beaming himself out into space and ending it. But she had to be sure.
As part of her clinical field work following her junior year at the Academy, Freddy had traveled to Bajor. There she learned of Bajoran religious rituals that exorcized demons, not the ones from hell but personal ones. Most cultures have such rituals or meditation and the Bajoran rite was a powerful one.
She had talked to Tom enough by now to know that his Klingon mating with B'Elanna was really eating at him. But past-life demons also tormented his psyche, which prevented him from getting the resolution he required. To get to that point he had to confront his past not only to survive but also to resurrect and move forward in his ruined but deep relationship with the chief of engineering. He had to actually bond with her. Freddy hoped that B'Elanna wanted the same thing.
But Freddy had to know if Tom was as far gone as she suspected. She had to act and fast.
"Tom?" Her voice was soothing.
No answer. Paris was far away; his mind scrutinizing B'Elanna's brown eyes as he touched her face tenderly with his hand and then kissed her forehead ridges.
"Tom, look at me." She tilted his chin upwards. He lifted his eyes once again as he heard a soft voice implore him to comply.
"What?" He suddenly returned to the here and now.
She locked eyes with his.
"Tom, what do you see?"
Tom thought that question to be a bit odd but he answered it nonetheless.
"I see a very beautiful woman with lovely green eyes."
She smiled. "Thanks." She appreciated the compliment but that was not what she was after.
Now the very important question. The one that would tell her if Tom had truly lost it.
"Who do you see, Tom?"
Paris looked and then looked again. He rubbed and focused his now tear-filled eyes, which soon overflowed down his cheeks. "B'Elanna! I see you! I need you! I love you! Oh my God, B'Ella! What have I done? I am so lost without you!" He broke down and put his head on the table.