ENCORE

Thanks to Shayenne for the wonderful beta! (I've messed with this since so all mistakes are my own.)

I would believe her, I realised, if she chose to lie to me.

I sat in the Messhall the next evening, idly stirring my tomato soup, trying to ignore the concerned looks Harry was throwing me. I don’t blame him for being worried; it takes something serious to ruin my appetite.

Everything looked different. The whole ship seemed slightly off balance, colours looked strange.

Voyager was travelling through a peaceful region of space and Chakotay had decided to let some of the more inexperienced pilots take the helm. I’d spent all day with the Doctor in sickbay, so I hadn’t seen the Command Team together yet. I was almost grateful.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to see either of them, but for some reason here I was, eating in public instead of safely in my quarters. I wasn’t facing the door, and every time I heard it swish open I tensed. It was getting late by the time she arrived - somehow I knew who it was without turning. “Evening Captain,” I heard someone say, confirming it.

I didn’t dare glance round. The Messhall was almost empty; if she were going to say something, make up some pretty story it would surely be now.

It didn’t happen. She didn’t say anything at all. She merely stopped at my table, looked at me, touched my arm and left.

I wasn’t sure if it was an apology or thanks. It was neither.

What it actually meant was “wait, and watch”, which I was doing anyway. It didn’t take long before I saw some changes.

They stopped talking to each other. Ship’s business, yes, but the rest of it, the idle conversations on the Bridge - those entirely dried up. They didn’t smile at each other, they almost entirely ignored each other. I hoped desperately that this was a good sign, but I didn’t know.

It didn’t bother people at first, but after a week of this, morale started to plummet. I was grateful we were in an unoccupied part of space. I wondered if they’d start up their pretence again, but they didn’t. Or couldn’t? Possibly I’d upset this delicate balance forever, and had only succeeded in making more people unhappy.

Was it possible that he really couldn’t forgive her, really didn’t love her? I couldn’t believe I had been mistaken. In a way, I still loved her, always would, and the depth of my feelings had been nothing compared to his.

Besides, I knew them. I had a perspective that both of them lacked. I believed in them.

I waited, and watched.

You might ask why I didn’t go and speak to Chakotay about it. It might have solved part of the mystery, and it would certainly have been interesting to hear his point of view. But firstly, I didn’t think for a second that he’d confide in me. And secondly, I feared that if I was in a room alone with him, I might just punch him.

I think, of the two of them, the Captain is capable of far greater cruelty. Of the two, she probably said the worst things. But to say that to her, each morning… it made me feel sick. That wasn’t the man I knew. I was sure he hadn’t meant it, but she’d believed him. So I did my best to stay out of his way.

Time passed, and finally they stopped ignoring each other. They started arguing. Hurried, whispered arguments on the Bridge. Lengthy shouting matches in the Ready Room. The rest of the staff would cower and avoid looking at each other, but I secretly began to hope.

They started spending off-duty time together, properly - so that they could continue these arguments without it interfering with their duties, I assumed. The Bridge seemed to have become neutral territory. It did make it harder for me to gauge what was going on, though.

Weeks passed, they were polite to each other again, but the crew were still slightly on edge. There were various rumours regarding their ‘falling out’, including one that claimed I was having an affair with the Captain. I wondered if our behaviour towards each other had changed - it probably had. Fortunately B’Elanna was very dismissive of the rumour, despite threatening to maim anyone heard repeating it.

Another month passed, and then - at end of an unremarkable shift, on an unremarkable day, something happened. I honestly don’t think anyone else noticed it, but then, no one else was watching for something. Actually, two things happened.

She touched his hand. And he called her ‘Kathryn’.

It meant nothing to the others. But I knew that this time - for the first time in possibly years - their actions were telling the truth. I was fortunate enough to be looking their way when it happened, and the look that passed between them made my heart ache.

She touched him as though marvelling that he was still there beside her. And he said her name as though - as though naming his home, on seeing it distantly after a long journey. Each syllable precious. You’ll know the sound if you’ve heard it, if not, I can’t explain it properly.

That was all, but that was enough. That was the start of it. And from then on, I watched as love unfurled its leaves again, coming out from the frozen ground after a long winter. Things went back to normal, only more so - their laughter was clearer, their conversations flowed more smoothly, and the touches were more lingering. This new atmosphere pervaded the whole ship, and on some days I half expected Tuvok to start smiling.

There were still plenty of chances for the Captain to act, to practice deceptions, of course. There was always some new diplomat to win over, or an enemy to intimidate. She continued these duties flawlessly as ever. But now, at least there was a difference between these times and everyday life. She had somewhere to retreat to from that false-life - like a dressing room where she could wash off her face paint and remember who she is.

But that wasn’t quite the end of it.

I had wondered if the Captain would say anything to me about what had happened, or acknowledge our conversation. I didn’t feel like she owed me anything, as such, but I wanted to speak to her. We often talked as part of a group, of course - and I could have sought her out, but I found myself hoping she would come to me.

Yet, when it finally happened, I was surprised. I’d just come back from shoreleave with B’Elanna, and I’d thought the Captain was still planetside - so when my chime rang she was the last person I was expecting to see.

I was alone in my quarters, B’Elanna was back in Engineering making sure that nothing had gone amiss in her absence. The two of us sat in the living area, eating peanutbutter and jelly sandwiches, which to my surprise she is very fond of. It seemed like a lifetime since we’d had that late night conversation, in the Messhall.

We made small talk for a few minutes - and all the while I wondered if something had gone wrong during her shoreleave. I knew she’d been spending it with Chakotay, despite the fact they’d left on separate days, to separate locations. She didn’t appear upset, but I knew that meant very little. Maybe she was here for something unrelated, on ship’s business.

“Captain,” I said, finally. “Not that I’m not glad to see you, but…”

“You’re wondering why I’m here.” She grinned. “And it’s Kathryn.”

Not a ship-related conversation then.

“I’m here to thank you.”

I felt a weight lift from my chest. “It’s okay now?”

“It’s okay.” That was all I needed to know. She smiled at me, eyes shining, and I knew I was seeing her true face.

“I should have said something before now,” she continued. “I should have talked to you about it, told you it was all right. I know this sounds crazy, but I was half-afraid telling you it was okay would only prove me wrong.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I assured her, offering her the last sandwich. She declined, so I ate it in a single, heroic mouthful. She watched me with raised eyebrows, a smile playing round her lips.

“Or maybe I was just in denial about the fact I’d taken advice from Tom Paris.”

I swallowed. “Most people I advise are in a similar state. I’ve solved the problems of many people on this ship, but none will admit it.”

She shook her head, “That explains a lot. But seriously, Tom, I’m very grateful to you. We both are. I can’t help wondering what things would be like, if you hadn’t spoken to me about it. Probably nothing would have changed, if you hadn’t realised what was happening.”

“It was pure chance that I did.” I paused; this was as good an opportunity as any. I chose my words carefully. “Tell me, what were you thinking of, that day - when I saw you?”

She gave me a strange smile. “It was stupid really. I was thinking of a joke that Chakotay and I had once shared, then I thought of how we’d never truly share anything again. But that didn’t make me feel sad, as I knew it should. I couldn’t feel anything about it - it was just blankness. And I knew that should terrify me, the blankness, but it didn’t. There was just - nothing. Then I saw you watching at me.”

She laughed, “And then I knew the meaning of terror. Because… your expression. It was so awful. You looked horrified. Heartbroken. You looked like your world had fallen apart.”

“It kind of had,” I admitted.

“And I felt completely exposed. You’d read me like a book, so all my hard work was for nothing. And if you had guessed, who’d be next?” Her face became serious. “I didn’t want you all to hate me.”

“They would never hate you.”

“But you did,” she said, softly. “I saw it.”

I couldn’t meet her eye.

“And I hated myself.” Her voice was unsteady. “That’s why I decided I’d tell you the truth, if you asked me. I waited for you in the Messhall each night.”

Surprised, I looked up again. “You knew I would go there? Even I didn’t know I’d end up there that night.”

The corner of her mouth turned up. “I know each member of my crew.”

It was true. She knew each one of us. And almost everything she did was for us. I was wrong to think she was only ever acting; her love for her crew was never feigned.

“Thank you,” I said, and hoped she understood.

“It was I who came to thank you,” she reminded me. “And so, I have a secret to tell you. I know you can be good at keeping quiet, when you choose to.”

A bubble of hope rose in my chest. “You’re engaged?”

She laughed outright at that, but more importantly, didn’t deny it. “Am I really so transparent to you, Tom? I must remember that.”

“It’s true?”

Before she could answer, her combadge sounded - it was Chakotay hailing her, of course. At the sound of his voice, her mouth quirked into a smile - sudden, secretive, involuntary.

I nodded to her, and she answered it. I watched as she spoke to him, and felt an overwhelming sense of rightness.

“It’s alright,” I said. “Go to him.” We walked to the door, and she drew me into a sudden embrace.

“Tom,” she said. “Tom. Thank you.”

And then she was gone, walking away down the corridor, wearing her calm, confident mask.

I know her. I have spent years watching her. She was happy.

And I knew there’d be a wedding in their future, probably on the Holodeck - and if I got my way I’d be the one to write the program. Maybe a wedding on a beach, or in a forest… or perhaps an orchard, with all the trees in flower. The petals would fall like confetti, and the sunlight would stream through the branches, golden, cinematic.

The ceremony would be spectacular, theatrical - for the crew’s sake, that’s what they’d want. It will have to be larger than life, just like the couple themselves. And there will be applause.

We'll applaud and cheer the brilliant, golden masks, the glittering costumes, the shimmering lights. And I won’t mind, because this story is based on a true story, and the actors will be playing themselves.

And later, the trees will dissolve, the golden sunlight will dissolve, leaving a room empty and grey. And another program will start, Lake George unfurling like a bolt of precious cloth, candles flickering into existence.

She'll touch his hand as though for the first time.

He'll speak her name as though for the first time.

But there’ll be no audience, no applause. Only birdsong, water, the breeze, as two people lower the masks, and step into a memory made solid.

the end

Feedback or constructive criticism? Please.

© Violet, July 2009. Please email me to post/distribute elsewhere.