Temaris' adult fiction: Strong, a P/K story

Strong

>>I can see
You're slipping away from me....>>

I'm watching you again. The holodeck is dim and quiet, alpha has long since gone to sleep, and beta isn't off yet. So it's just the three of us. It's weird, the way I can focus everything on you, and yet still not be there, enveloped in some kind of haze that won't let me move or speak. I'm almost moved to tears, to screams, as you lean against the bar, hands swift and silent in the air, describing curves of a story, face alight and oblivious.

I might as well not be here.

If I had known, when I started this, how far it would go, I would have run away. Not that there's any where to run to: a billion light years of space in every direction, and nowhere to run.

If the two of you know I'm here, then you're being polite, ignoring me, pretending not to see me when I clearly want to be alone, hiding on my own on the far side of this ersatz French bar. I've snapped everyone away tonight, wanting peace to watch and be alone, without you. I don't think you do know. You couldn't be that cruel.

Harry's face ducks, that half shake of the head that precedes outright laughter. You see? Eyes crinkled up, shoulders shaking, wide mouth full of merriment. I know your every gesture, follow every move, know all the nuances, and yet it remains a mystery. I never put that light in your eyes. Never saw that look of tender mischief. Yet if I were to listen, it's only the day's business, the way the helm responded, the niggling irritations of their superior officers. No words of love. I won't listen. I can't bear to hear the nothingness of it. Words of seduction, of persuasion, passion, I could turn. Jealous anger, confrontation, I could win. But this... There's nothing there to fight. It is unspoken, untouching, barely comprehended. I see it. I wonder if you do?

I don't even know now if I loved you. There's an odd thing. Loved. Not love, it's not a now thing, not something I'm fighting any more. Instead, here I am, picking up the pieces, wondering, like a million idiots before me, just where I went wrong.

Boy meets girl. Yeah, and that went so well. I'm the only woman in authority on the ship who's available. The captain- well, if she's available, I'm a virgin. Between the ship and Chakotay... Well, whatever. I thought this would be easy, I'd play it the way I always had.

Half Klingon, half witted, clumsy, unsubtle. Snap and bite, because that's the only way not to let you know how badly, how much I feel. It should have been easy. I should have known better.

I didn't know - would anyone believe me? I truly didn't know. I thought you were pals. Real close, the way I'd seen folk sometimes. I saw it, but I didn't understand. I just imagined how, if you could be like that with a friend, what it would be like if I could - when I got you as a lover. Then when Vorik tripped my hormones into overdrive, and you had to help me, well, it was a gift horse, and I took it and ran.

You were always flirting with me, teasing, blue eyes batting at me, just a little too close, just a little too friendly. If my mother had ever given a shit about me, maybe she would have warned me about men like you. You were a friend. Someone I could talk to. That's rare, especially in a man. Just you, and Harry, of all the men I ever met. But Har was like a kid brother, where you were like a university student to a ten year old. Older, wiser, beautiful - and you paid attention to me. I thought you meant it. It's not my fault you're a faithless slut.

>>Love is gone
There's no sense in holding on
And your pity now
Would be more than I could bear....>>

I suppose... I suppose that I was too focussed. That's always been a problem of mine. Find the problem, define the solution and carve a straight line from A to C, trampling every letter of the alphabet dumb enough to get in the way.

So here's a problem for you, B'Elanna. Item, a pair of blue eyes, wandering. Item, a pair of brown eyes, broken. I can't decide if I hate him or feel sorry for him. It's probably both. Sorry, Harry, Tom's not mine, not yours - not anyone's but his own, selfish to the core. Go whistle for that heart of yours. If I were anyone else I'd kill me. But how was I supposed to know? I mean, it's not like Harry said anything. Anything at all. I don't think I even noticed something was wrong till I teased him about being ill, and he looked at me like I was some form of pond scum, that beyond all probability had spoken, and had started out with an obscenity. Why didn't I notice?

Maybe I didn't want to, maybe it's just my famed people skills coming to the fore again.

I don't know. It wasn't my fault. Was it? I mean, you could have said something - sorry, B'Elanna, I didn't mean to screw you, cos I'm currently fucking my best friend. That would have worked. Clear, unambiguous, straightforward. Or Harry. Instead of moping in uninhabited corners, and stealing you back without even trying...

There's the rub.

If I thought I had a chance, then maybe I would fight. But they don't even know. How can I fight that? I'm not even trying tonight. Just watching, trying to figure out what I could have done differently. And all down the line it stays the same, as you slip away from me, turning with soul tight inevitability back to where you - where we, all of us, started. There's nothing there to 'salvage'. I'm not sure there ever was...

Like last night. I'm there, right there. We're supposed to be together, hanging out, having a relaxing evening. And sure, yeah he's there. And I was there, we were even doing the same things - playing pool, dancing, chatting, but we might as well have been in different ships. You listen to me, but you're hearing Harry. Your lips smile at me, while your eyes search for him. There's this little line between your eyes. An angle to your shoulders when you stand next to him that says you want to protect him, look after him.

Do you see how afraid he is? Have you looked in his eyes and seen the pain? I have. I didn't care, or, I did, but it was less important than winning you... I'm sorry. We're in the same place again now, Harry, you and me. Turn and turn about. Only fair, I guess.

All he needs protecting from is you, Paris. Can't you see that in his eyes? The way he watches you on the bridge, the way he waits for you to walk in before he'll relax and eat, even if he doesn't speak to you all evening, yet I can see the two of you, watching each other, not even aware of the meaning.

When your smiles met tonight, and you just waited there, from opposite sides of a room, uninterested in moving, content to feel the connection without so much as touching. Then I knew for sure. I'll never have your heart, Tom Paris. I'm not even sure I have your body, even when it's lying in my bed right next to me. And I already, always, knew where your soul was. I just thought I could live with it.

>>I'm gonna be strong
And stand as tall as I can...
and let you go along....>>

So, I'll tell you tomorrow that I want us to ease off for a while. You'll be surprised, but I know what you'll do. You'll go to Harry, and he'll explain that I'm wary of commitment. He'll even suggest I had some kind of bad previous experience, that you need to be careful not to crowd me. And if you cry, I know that you've a friend who'll be there for you, come hell or high water. I'm even kind of glad that you have such a good friend to look after you when I dump you, and then I remember that if it weren't for that 'good friend', I might keep my flighty lieutenant, and the pain stabs me through, quite unexpectedly.

I'll meet your eyes in a couple of days, and you will whisper without words, thank you. And I will nod, and pretend that the burning is lack of sleep, and too many computer screens.

And I'll go on pulling down the precarious edifice I made out of hopes and dreams, and watch as the two of you take the bricks and mortar I thought to use, and build together.

Page last updated 18/09/2004.