Be Careful What You Wish For Page 2

  Tom's answer was less vehement. "My family is here, Harry. All the family I'll ever need is on this ship."

  "Well mine is on Earth and I have every intention of seeing them again," Harry snapped. "Besides, if you think I'm going to be stuck playing Ensign Eager for the rest of my life, you're crazy."

  "Face it, Harry," Tom couldn't seem to stop himself. "It's the curse of the baby brother. Trust me, I have three older sisters. They'll never see me as anything other than the annoying little kid they used to push around." He didn't mean to imply anything, but Harry made the inference anyway.

  "And you'll never see me as anything other than Buster Kincaid, your trusty sidekick. I'm not a wet-behind-the-ears ensign anymore, Tom, though that's probably the only way you'll ever treat me." Ouch. Where did that come from, Tom wondered. Harry wasn't finished his target practice. "Besides, not everyone is as lucky as you are to have your family stranded with you." Bull's-eye. Harry had learned a lot of things from Tom in their years as best friends. Unfortunately, knowing the most pointed way to lash out at someone you care about had been one of them.

  They were quiet for a long moment as Tom finished the checklist and Harry began to download their course from Seven's Astrometrics data. The ensign was calming down just enough to realize he had said some things he regreted. Tom did have family back home, Harry knew, and his complicated relationship with them was an ongoing source of pain for his friend. He quickly realized he'd been unfair. Having such a bad relationship with your father that you don't mind being stuck on the other side of the galaxy couldn't be considered lucky by anyone's standards.

  And Harry knew there was more to Tom's reluctance than his unmended fences with his dad. They both knew there was a very real chance Tom's commission could be revoked and he'd be kicked out of Starfleet--for the second time--if they ever made it home. And Paris was married to a Maquis. B'Elanna, Chakotay and the others might even face jail time by some of the crew's estimation. Harry didn't believe that, of course. He had too much faith in Starfleet and Federation compassion to think his friends would be treated as anything other than returning heroes. Still, if he were in Tom's shoes...

  "Hey, I'm sorry okay." Harry said, breaking the silence. "I'm just tired, you know."

  "Me, too," Tom answered softly. "Besides, you could be worrying about nothing. Maybe today we'll find the motherload of ore and a fly-through grocery store and our troubles will be behind us." Tom didn't believe that for a moment, but he really hadn't intended to pick a fight. Changing the subject seemed like a good idea.

  "Sure," was all Harry could say. They finished the rest of their preparations in silence.

  ~*~*~*~*~

  Word of their mission had been passed to the rest of the senior staff. Seven had to give the captain credit for considering colonization as an option, though she suspected Commander Chakotay had been behind the idea. Still, she wasn't sure how she felt about the prospect. Part of her had gotten caught up in this crew's enthusiasm for returning to the Alpha Quadrant. She had even spent considerable time reviewing Earth's geographical and cultural database to prepare herself for the possibility that it might become her new home. Still, she knew enough about the Federation's encounters with the Borg to worry that she might be an unpleasant reminder of lost loved-ones to too many of Earth's residents. She had a firm philosophy, however, about not worrying over that which she could not control. No matter what course the captain chose, Seven was sure she would ultimately adapt.

  She was less sure about Icheb. He had a real gift for astrometrics and had just begun his training as a Starfleet cadet. Icheb had his whole life ahead of him, and Seven wasn't sure he would be happy trapped on an isolated planet in a deserted region of space. She knew the crew would look after him. Everyone had grown to respect the young man's intelligence and intellect. And his bravery. He had almost sacrificed himself to save Seven's life, and it was a debt the whole crew seemed to want to repay.

  'Speak of the devil,' she thought as her pupil appeared behind her. Her next thought was that she must be spending too much time with Lieutenant Paris these days if his annoying Earth idioms were coming so easily into her mind. "I have blocked off two hours this evening to review your preparations for the quantum theory examination," she offered, her fingers quickly moving to change the search specifics on her display screen. She wouldn't mention the away mission to Icheb. It would be inappropriate, and she wanted to avoid causing him unnecessary alarm.

  "Ensign Kim says I should 'ace' the test, if his tutoring has been any indication." Icheb was incapable of bragging, she knew. He was only being honest.

  "I have no doubt you will," she assured him.

  He moved to stand in front of her, an idea obviously forming in his mind. "I have been considering my career options in light of my progress," he offered. "Barring any unforeseen opportunities or technological developments, it is possible that this ship might take half a generation to reach the Alpha Quadrant. It seems prudent for the captain to prepare for a transfer of command at such time as she reaches an advanced age. I believe I should begin preparing myself for that eventuality."

  Seven almost grinned at his presumptuousness, even though he had a point. "I see," she said thoughtfully. "Perhaps you should complete your Academy training before you make plans to take command of the ship."

  Properly chastened, Icheb nodded. "Of course," he said, his fair cheeks reddening. "I'll see you at 1800 hours, then."

  In addition to her amusement at Icheb's grand dreams for his future, Seven felt a tinge of sympathy for her student. He had no idea that he might have to change his career plans before he'd even get a chance to graduate. She turned her attention back to the star map in front of her and began scanning once again.

  ~*~*~*~*~

  B'Elanna was taking her first break of the morning, giving her tired feet a rest. She knew she really ought to trade in her uniform boots for something with more support, but that would be a concession to her condition and she would never give up without a fight. To his credit, Tom never mentioned it, volunteering to rub her sore feet each night before she could even ask. She was getting impatient with her body these days, and looked forward to reclaiming it for herself once the baby came. Well, she might loan it out for recreational uses to a certain pilot she had come to love. But no more long-term boarders--not for a while anyway.

  Knowing the impulsive nature of the couple, everyone assumed the pregnancy had been accidental, and that was partially true. While they both knew they wanted children at some point, they assumed the natural incompatibilities in human/Klingon DNA might make conception difficult, and used a genetic 'roll-of-the-dice' as their only method of contraception. It was ironic, then--when they discovered B'Elanna's pregnancy--that it was genetics that almost undid them. Unexpectedly, seeing a holographic projection of their daughter had triggered a series of emotional reactions B'Elanna had been unprepared to face. Memories of her own childhood began to surface, and revived feelings she had thought she had resolved. Feelings of being an outcast--ugly. She felt that her appearance, her temper, and the uncivilized people it symbolized had driven her cherished father away from the family. When she feared a child with a Klingon face and disposition would ultimately find the same rejection and loneliness that had been handed to her, B'Elanna had gone so far as to alter the Doctor's program to convince him to resequence the baby's DNA to factor out the quarter of her heritage that was Klingon.

  Tom had stopped her in the knick of time. But the experience had cost them both dearly. Tom had been appalled at what B'Elanna had considered, and horribly wounded that she might think he would ever abandon her and their daughter. Tom was the only person B'Elanna had ever told of her agonizing childhood, of her hatred of her ancestry--and of her belief that she had driven her father away. Since that first conversation--a lifetime ago when they had been trapped in a Vidiian prison (B'Elanna having been cruelly split into her human and Klingon selves, and long before either had any idea of how their relati
onship would progress)--Tom had begun studying Klingon culture and ritual. He found himself fascinated by the code of honor and passion of this maligned people, and by his new half-Klingon friend who rejected that part of herself.

  Only recently, a few days after convincing her that they would never repeat her parents' fate, Tom told her the truth: that the day so long ago, when he found himself comforting the human B'Elanna and marveling at the Klingon B'Elanna, was the day he first fell in love with her. She was so much more complex than he had seen before, with a plate of emotional armor that hid the vulnerable woman inside. And she was so full of pain. They were the same, he realized that day. He could never reject her Klingon nature. The complexity it brought to her character was what had drawn him to her.

  Ironically, it was another 'Klingon encounter' that had sealed the deal. She and Tom had been good friends for almost two years by this time, and she could tell he was interested in a deeper relationship. She began to notice the ship's most visible ladies' man ignoring not only Megan Delaney and Sue Nicoletti, but just about every female on the ship. He began asking her out, making jokes about her love life, and finding opportunities to be alone with her. B'Elanna, of course, pretended she didn't notice. After all, why was this guy--who had proven he could have most of the women on board--suddenly showing an interest in her? She didn't trust him. She didn't trust in herself. So she made it into a game: he'd look longingly at her when he thought she couldn't see, she'd intentionally ignore him. Ultimately, she found herself taking her own secret glances when his attention was diverted. Never more than that, though.

  Then on what was supposed to be a simple away mission to the Sakari home world to mine some gallicite, she was suddenly out of her mind with a 'blood fever', a life-threatening hormonal imbalance that drove her to either mate or die. It had been induced by Ensign Vorik, a misguided Vulcan in the throes of the pon farr. In B'Elanna's compromised condition, she had admitted her attraction to Tom. Well, more than that, she had practically assaulted him, including biting his face in an act symbolic of laying claim to one's mate. Tom feared that she was too impaired to make such a choice, however, and he refused her advances. Mostly. Fearing for her life, Tom did ultimately agree, and even seemed to enjoy her Klingon-inspired foreplay. Once again interrupted by fate (and a fistfight with a livid Vulcan), they hadn't gotten very far before it was all over, and B'Elanna's fever was purged through the battle with Vorik. Still, for the bulk of a very difficult day, Tom had seen her in full-out Klingon passion. And he admitted afterward that he wouldn't mind seeing it again. That's when she knew, too; this was a man she could love.

  Now, after all they had been through, she had risked their entire future by forgetting that Tom Paris was not John Torres. This man would stay. How stupid she had been, she now realized. Tom had always encouraged her to explore her Klingon heritage. Hell, he was better with a bat'leth that she was. Of course he'd accept a part-Klingon child, just as he had sought out and loved her. It was B'Elanna who had to accept their baby. And perhaps, reflected in his eyes, she could see what Tom had come to love about her, and begin--once and for all--to accept herself.

  Her thoughts snapped back to reality as Joe Carey appeared before her. "Chief, I've finished the warp core diagnostic and I'm concerned about these new microfissures." B'Elanna and Joe had come a long way since their first days in the Delta Quadrant when she had punched him out in front of the entire engineering staff. If not for Captain Janeway's controversial choice of B'Elanna as chief engineer, she would be reporting to Carey now. This issue was long put to rest, however, and Joe had come to respect the fiery half-Klingon as the best person for the job.

  He let her review the PADD before he continued. "Some of us are concerned that we might have a hard time going back to warp without a significant layover for repairs." She was suspicious now, but she tried not to give herself away. Engineering had the reputation for having the most accurate rumor mill on Voyager, a fact that confounded her since she had openly refused to feed into it. Had Joe heard that they were investigating colonization sites? She chose a deliberately vague reply to avoid answering his deeper question.

  "Tom and Harry are on a survey mission right now to see if they can replenish our power reserves. When they find something, we should be able to replicate the parts we need without a major delay." Okay, she really meant 'if' instead of 'when,' but her leadership instincts guided her to act more optimistic than she felt. Buy it, Joe, she silently hoped.

  "You know, Lieutenant, there are rumors that they're actually searching for a place for us to set down--permanently. The captain wouldn't really do that, would she?"

  Don't take the bait, B'Elanna, she told herself. "Carey, you know Captain Janeway intends to get this crew home if she has to carry us there on her back. I can't be worried that you're letting this gossip distract you. I need you and everyone else focused on holding this ship together. Understood?" Her tone was gentle, but firm. He nodded.

  "You know, Chief, I got a letter from my wife in the last datastream. My oldest son is graduating from high school next month." He looked so sad, and she understood his pain. "He was up to here when I last saw him," Carey continued, gesturing just below his chest. "She tells me he's taller than I am now." B'Elanna didn't know what to say, so she just held his gaze as long as she could. He took a moment then walked back to his console to begin his next task.

  She knew if they ended up settling on one of the nearby worlds, the odds said they would be there for the rest of their lives. If it came to that, the duty to tell her staff would fall to her. She had no idea what she would say. Shaking that thought from her mind, she grudgingly got to her feet and went back to work.

  ~*~*~*~*~

  Harry and Tom had finished their tenth survey without sharing more than perfunctory updates on their findings. Harry had been brave enough to break the silence the last time. Tom knew it was his turn. "Did you mean what you said, Harry?" A vague choice of an ice-breaker.

  "What do you mean," Harry replied. He had said a lot of things this morning. Some of them he meant more than others.

  "Do you really feel like I treat you like a kid?" Tom clarified.

  Harry didn't want to antagonize the situation any more, so he hedged a little before answering. "That's not exactly what I said," he answered. It was helpful that he couldn't see Tom's face during this conversation. It was awkward enough without having to look him in the eye.

  Tom apparently didn't agree, since he was putting the Flyer on auto-navigation and turning around in his seat. "I'd like to know what you did mean," Tom pushed gently, realizing that the Delta Flyer was rapidly replacing Voyager's turbolift as his 'heart-to-heart conversation' location of choice. "You told me a few months ago that you were tired of always playing Buster Kincaid to my Captain Proton. I guess I didn't realize how much you meant that."

  Harry still couldn't quite look at Tom. He didn't want to hurt his best friend. But he didn't want to lie to him either. "I guess I'm worried that, if you of all people don't see me as capable of more than just following your lead, nobody on the ship will ever really take me seriously. Harry Kim: Tom's little buddy. Tom's sidekick. On shore leave, in the holodeck, we're always doing what you want to do. I'm getting to the point that I can't even tell where your hobbies end and mine begin." He got the courage to hold Tom's gaze before he continued. "Some days I feel like Harry Kim is just the short shadow of Tom Paris." There it was, out in the open.

  "Do you think I've intentionally done anything to make you feel this way?" Tom really wanted to know. "We tease each other, Harry, it's just what we do. You've always given as good as you've gotten. As I recall, I latched onto you when I first came on board. You were a good friend to me, Harry. Better than I deserved at the time, as I recall. But the irony in all of this is that I'm the one who's always looked up to you." This was uncharacteristic sentiment from Voyager's chief cynic, and it made his friend a little uncomfortable. Tom clearly wasn't through, though.

  "I
was a great pilot when I came here, Harry, and I knew it. But I was lousy officer material. I had a bad attitude and a smart mouth and a talent for getting myself into trouble. I meant it when I told you I thought of you as the conscience I never had. And I really did try to be more like you. I don't think I ever would have been taken seriously by the crew if they hadn't seen you so willing to accept me as your friend." Tom was right and Harry realized he had been a little hard on him. Maybe it was Harry Kim who needed to let go of the image of Ensign Eager.

  Tom must have seen the softening in Harry's expression, and he reverted to typical Paris wit. "And I'd probably be babysitting for B'Elanna and Vorik if we hadn't both become such good friends with you." They both laughed out loud at that absurd idea. "You know," Tom went on. "I've always wanted to give the Buster role a try. And I'm sure my Captain Proton jacket would fit you better these days than it fits me." Without holodeck access it was a hollow gesture, but the sentiment behind it had been real.

  "I'm thinking about a new program," Harry offered, taking the same glint in his eye he had just seen in Tom's. "Captain Sulu and the adventures of the USS Excelsior."

  Ugh, Tom thought. He even wants to play Starfleet. "Just don't cast me as the young Vulcan security officer," Tom quipped. I don't think I could pull off a convincing Tuvok!" They grinned at each other before Tom turned around and took control of the stick once more. Thank god that was over.